A glimpse into the life of Alfred F. Jones Part one
Some headcanons, basically just something a bit more fun and not historical. Just for fun and not really related to much other than America's daily life.
Historical stuff will come up later.
This isn't pairings. A couple people wanted to see more of Prussia and America together, and this has a bit of that.
I hope it's as fluffy as I wanted it to be...
The first sound of the day was made by a shrill ringing.
America groaned and hit snooze.
Five minutes later, just as she was drifting off once again, the ringing went off again.
America swore and hit the "dismiss alarm" button on the screen of her phone.
She fell asleep again.
*RING!*
America briefly considered smashing the phone, but the last time she'd done that it had broken the table beneath it too and she didn't feel like getting a new table AND a new phone.
America sat up, rubbed her eyes, and as per habit tightened her bindings. Yawning, she stretched like a cat, feeling the familiar tightness she got in her chest whenever she moved too far in one direction.
The first thing America does most mornings is check her email. Sometimes she forgets things and she needs to know if she has to rush off or not. So that's just what she did.
She had a new email from Prussia (among other emails), and she checked it first. It was the link to a preview for a new movie coming out called "The Knights of Badassdom" and the words "We're seeing this together." America watched the trailer, cracked up, replied with a "Hell yeah! ;D" and then moved onto the next one. It was from Japan asking about having a video game night later that month. She sent a quick email back saying "Sure, sounds really awesome. Just us or anyone else?" before moving on. The next was from Canada, wondering if anyone else was going to join them being all single and stuff on Singles Awareness Day (the two usually hung out on the day after Valentine's Day and went out to the store for all the half-price candy). She sent an email saying that she wasn't sure but didn't think so and moved on. Oh. it's from Boss. She read it.
"Alfred,
Take the day and tomorrow off. The House and Senate are just arguing, and you being there will just make them swarm you, even if it is only through Skype. Have fun, and don't get arrested. Go on a date or something."
America laughed and did a celebratory wiggle dance in her chair.
Does he honestly think I have a love life?
Even though her boss wouldn't call her America due to it "sounding strange" (totally his words, not hers), he was still an awesome boss, and this just cemented it.
She checked the time.
The hell? It's six fucking forty-two!
I at least wanted to sleep until seven. Was that too much to ask?
America glanced to either side, trying to look like the Peter Parker meme before she burst into song, doing a sort of act-it-out dance with it.
"~~~Winter geting colder, summer getting warmer, tidal wave comin' cross the Mexican border. Why buy a gallon, it's cheaper by the barrel just don't get busted singin' Christmas Carols. That's ME that's right, Gotta love this American ride~~~!"*
She did some dance leaps down the hallway to the kitchen and put on her kettle. Her old, run-down kettle that didn't even light up when it was boiling anymore, and the handle had to be twisted in a specific way in order to work. America patted the kettle before it got too hot and looked through the little cupboard above the counter that held it.
Earl Gray, top shelf for you you little mofo of a box. How the hell did you even get on the bottom shelf? Probably Tony just being a troll.
Lady Gray, that tea is so weak even England doesn't like to drink it. Back of the top shelf for you so that the next time he comes over I can piss him off.
Irish Breakfast tea... Ireland, stop leaving your shit over here! Take it the hell back with you when you visit!
And a shelf of Asian tea. Oolong, green, Korean Ginseng. Hmm. I haven't had that in a while. I either really really liked it or hated it a lot. Better not risk it.
And coffee! Coffee coffee coffee coffee I loooooove you! Better than all the other crap in here twice over!~
The kettle made a clicking sound and steam billowed out from the top. America glanced at it, but knew that it wasn't boiled yet. She took out a mug, filled it with grounds, and then went to her fridge.
Fooooooodd~. Must have it.
Okay, sausage, bacon, cheese, juice, eugh, I don't wanna make anything.
But I don't want to go out to get food either.
Hmm...
Toast it is.
By the time she had the toast in the toaster, the kettle had gone off.
America poured the hot water into a large black mug with a practiced twist of her hand and then spread peanut butter on her toast.
Sitting down in her usual chair at her kitchen table, she looked around the room.
Her house wasn't the large Virginian plantation she had grown up in. That had been burnt down a long time ago. This new house (Okay, it was a hundred years old, so pretty new by only nation standards) in Wisconsin wasn't nearly as pretty, but it held a certain homeyness in it. The floor tiles' flowered pattern was faded and there were permanent marks in the counters that no amount of bleach would ever get out. The brown paint on the windowsills was peeling and faded, but the walls were a new, unfaded shade of sky blue. America finished her toast and tipped back her chair against the wall as she drank her coffee, still running her eyes over the familiar patterns of the house, from the old toaster to the bread basket filled with fruit while the bread sat haphazardly on the counter next to the toaster.
I should go get the newspaper.
Nah. Too lazy.
She finished her coffee in silence, and brought her plate and cup to the unusually empty sink (she'd done dishes last night for once after she'd run out of clean plates and cups), filling the sink with water. The window above the sink faced the backyard, and a small smile came to her lips as she looked over the little playground and trampoline she'd set up for the kids on the block. There was already a little boy out there in the snow that had only started falling the day before. There was enough snow that school was off, which was great for the kids in the neighborhood. It was snowing again in fact, and America sighed at the dip in the trampoline.
I have to scrape it off now or else the springs'll get weaker. Oh great.
America waved to the little kid, who didn't see her, and went to get dressed. Her room was a little different than the rest of the house. The house had a total of four bedrooms, and hers was the largest and where she basically spent her life.
Scratch that, I have no life.
The others were used for whenever people came over, which wasn't as often as she wished it was. It was hard to go to someone's house when they lived in a different country. Unless it was Canada and she was far enough north to just pop over. Which she was. She considered going over, but decided against it.
Lol, Pitch Perfect. Sometimes I think I might visit my brother, but then I think 'Ah, better not'. Anyway, he's coming tomorrow so whatever.
America went to her closet and yanked on her favorite orange hoodie and a pair of jeans, running a brush through her hair lazily and stuffing her toothbrush in her mouth.
Minty. Still doesn't go well with breakfast.
Then she pulled on her boots and coat, washed out her mouth (leaving the toothbrush at the sink), and stepped outside, successfully scaring the crap out of the little boy being a loner on the see-saw.
"I thought no one lived there!" he chirped, looking at her curiously.
"I live here silly," America laughed obnoxiously. "I just travel a lot for work."
"But you're younger than my brother, and he doesn't have a job."
"How old do you think I am?" America grinned at the kid. The kid was adorable. He had blond hair plastered to his cheeks and a bright blue hat on. His purple heart-covered scarf (clearly a hand-me-down) was halfway unwound, dragging in the snow behind him. His gloves were on the wrong hands, and he had Spiderman snow boots.
"Umm," the little boy thought. "Like fifteen?"
"I'm twenty-two," America's smile widened at the look of shock on his face. Although she was technically nineteen, she had to age in order to stay in the town. She moved around a lot. She'd only lived in her current house for about six years, having claimed she was seventeen when she first bought the house. She started scraping the snow off the trampling while they talked.
"And you live alone? My mom doesn't think that people should live alone! She says you get sad."
"Oh well." America shrugged, then changed the subject. "Hey, what's your name?"
James Brown, age eight. Nickname Jimmy. Third grade. Mom from New York. Dad from Texas. Parents divorced, Dad lives in Texas again.
"I'm Jimmy. I'm eight, and I'm in the third grade. I love dinosaurs and guns and superheroes." Jimmy smiled widely, showing that his two front teeth were still missing. "Oh, and cookies," He added as an afterthought. "Cookies are good. So are cupcakes."
America grinned even wider. Jimmy was such a cute kid.
"So why're you in my backyard?"
"I thought it was a playground," Jimmy explained. "Everyone calls it one. I don't know why though."
America nodded. "I know why. I set it up so that people could come in and out however they wanted too. See, there's no gate or anything."
"That's really nice of you," Jimmy said. He was nailed with a snowball from behind just as America finished the job she had left the house to do.
"Ahoy there!" A few kids were approaching.
"That wasn't very nice Annie!" Jimmy crossed his arms and pouted at the girl who had thrown the snow.
Annemarie Milazzo, age ten. Nickname Annie. Fifth grade. Italian parents. Both born in Rome. No other relatives on this side of the Atlantic. Speaks Italian at home.
"Alfred?" Annie asked.
"Hey!" America actually knew Annie from a couple years ago. She hadn't seen the girl last winter though. "Where were you last year?"
"Visiting family in Rome," Annie scooped up another ball of snow.
"Wait, you're a guy! I thought you were a girl!" Jimmy exclaimed.
America pretended she was in pain, though she was secretly a bit flattered. "Ooh, right in the masculinity bro!"
The neighborhood kids (all five of them) cracked up.
Annie took that chance to whip a snowball at America.
America dodged the missle and smirked.
"You'll never touch me!"
The other kids laughed and watched Annie try to hit America. America dodged them all, and then another kid got her in the back while she was distracted.
America stopped and wheeled around to face him.
Michael Tang. Age eleven. Fifth grade. Mom from Hong Kong. Dad from China. Speaks Cantonese at home.
She slowly scooped up a snowball, and soon the whole backyard had descended into a snow war zone. America was crouched behind a table laying on its side, watching the running children.
Samantha Bielwac. Nickname Sammy. Age ten. Fourth grade. Immigrated from Poland at the age of five. Has very good English. Inattentive parents.
Cody Hanes. Age twelve. Sixth grade. Moved here from Quebec earlier this year because his dad wanted to move after his mom died. Misses Canada and his mom a lot. Doesn't put much effort into speaking English. This is the happiest he's been in a while.
America's mind was swirling with all the different people around her and their backgrounds. Most nations hated it, but America was one of the few that loved the feeling of knowing who the people she was around were on a more personal basis.
Soon the fight ended, and the kids were all tired. America was tired as well, but it didn't show as she jumped to her feet and clapped her gloved hands.
"Hot chocolate anyone?"
The five neighborhood children all nodded enthusiastically and America held open her backdoor for them as they bounded in.
They seated themselves around her table, and America sighed upon seeing the familiar-and-yet-not image. Every time she came home (which wasn't all too often) kids from around the neighborhood usually ended up at her house sitting around her table.
And America really liked that.
She pulled out some cocoa powder and a few more ingredients, setting to work.
Michael hoisted himself up onto the counter next to the stove and watched as America took out a pot from the cupboard and a gallon of milk from the fridge.
"You don't just use packets?" he asked in amazement.
America laughed her obnoxious laugh and shook her head. "My hot chocolate's better than Nestle could ever make it."
"Not better than Ghirardelli, that's for sure," Michael said, watching her make the hot chocolate with a critical eye.
"Wanna bet?" America turned back to the pan, which was boiling.
Soon, six people were seated around America's dining table with large mugs, agreeing that her hot chocolate was awesome and complaining that the marshmallows in it had melted.
"So, what should we do now?" Sammy asked.
America shrugged, then came up with a plan to make Cody, who was looking pretty morose, feel better. "What do you want to do?" She asked in Polish.
"You know Polish!" Sammy jumped up and down. "Really?"
"Yeah. And quite a few other languages too."
"What's going on?" Annie asked from her position next to Cody.
"I speak a lot of languages for work," America responded in Italian, looking at Annie's eyes widening with a smug look on her face.
"How many languages do you speak?" Annie asked. "Which ones?"
"Name one, I probably know it," America gulped more hot chocolate.
"French?" Cody asked, speaking for the first time.
"Of course silly. I've been all over the place. Including Quebec."
"That's cool," Cody said simply.
"Can we bake something?" Annie asked suddenly.
"Yeah!" Jimmy chimed in. "Can we can we can we?"
"Sure," America agreed easily. She didn't have a problem with it.
"But this brings in another problem!" Michael exclaimed.
"What?" Cody asked, clearly feeling a bit more comfortable. America felt bad for the kid. He was really alone and always felt left out.
"What do we make?"
"Cookies!" Jimmy yelled.
"I think we should make cupcakes," Sammy said.
"Yeah!" Cody agreed.
"What about pie?" Michael said softly.
"All of them?" America asked. "Then you can bring things home for Valentine's day."
"Yeah!" The neighborhood kids chorused.
...
"Alright guys, we're gonna need to go to the store. I'm out of chocolate chips."
"Whaaaattt?!" Jimmy exclaimed, as though this was a great horror. Which to him, it probably was.
America grinned. "It's only a couple blocks guys. Your parents won't mind, will they?"
"My mom says she trusts you. Oh right! She said that if I saw you, I should say hi for her. So, hi!" Annie said.
"My parents are good with it as well."
Sammy nodded in agreement. "So are mine."
Cody shrugged. "My dad said that since I'm in sixth grade and this is a small town, he trusts me well enough."
"Awesome!" America cheered. "Let me just grab some cash and we can write a quick list before we go."
It took a few minutes of America calling out ingredient names followed by scrambled searching for said ingredients before they had a list.
America sighed. She loved spending the day with her people, especially the children.
She spent the rest of her Valentine's day with them until it was around five.
"Alright, bye guys. See you around! Cody, come by tomorrow if you can. You can meet my brother."
"Thanks Alfred."
"Yeah, thanks!" the kids chorused.
America watched as the group of kids took off down the street clutching tupperware containers full of Valentine's Day goodies.
She grinned and went inside to start cleaning up her kitchen.
...
The doorbell rang just as she was drying off the last dish.
God, I hate dishes.
She trotted to the door and pulled it open, ineffectively trying to dry her hands on the damp dishtowel on the way to the door.
Prussia was there, a large bouquet of red roses in his hands and a shit-eating grin on his face.
"Happy Valentine's Day America!" He shoved the roses at her semi-gracefully and stepped inside out of the snowy weather.
"Hey bro! Happy Valentine's day to you too! What're you doing here?" Prussia followed her into the kitchen as she went to put the flowers in a vase.
"Well, according to Hungary and seconded by Poland, a girl should never be alone on Valentine's Day. So the awesome me is here to take you out to dinner and have an awesome time."
America grinned. "Didja get reservations?"
"What, you think I'm stupid? Of course. Now get dressed. Something girly."
"...Sorry, what?"
"Go girly yourself up. No nations are gonna see you but me, and the ordinary people that see you won't realize who you are."
"I have neighbors that would recognize me Prussia."
"Then it's an awesome thing that it's a long drive to the restaurant then, isn't it?"
America looked at him for a bit longer, debating internally and trying to calculate the risk.
"Come on America, trust me."
"..."
He made a puppy face. "Please?"
"..."
He got down on his knees. "Look, I'm begging you. Please go out for dinner with me?"
"This isn't a date, is it?" America asked suspiciously.
If it is, I'm killing him, Poland, and Hungary. No survivors.
Prussia looked taken aback. "No. You're my awesome little schwester. Not a date. You just should have a good time on Valentine's day for once."*
"Hungary threatened to hit you with a frying pan if you didn't make sure I had fun tonight, didn't she?"
"... Maybe..."
America smiled. "Fine. I don't think I have a dress though."
Prussia brightened. "I have one in the car. Hang on." He ran back out for his luggage. America rolled her eyes and followed, helping him bring in his things.
"It'll need to be ironed a bit, but I think it'll work. Poland got it, so, yeah."
America looked the blue dress over. "Fine."
She took it into her room, looking it over nervously. She hadn't worn a dress in a long time. America plugged in the straightener and ironed the dress carefully before undressing and pulling off the bindings. It was a very pretty dress. The top was in a classic Grecian style, where the blue fabric would sit gracefully on her chest from higher points on both of her shoulders. The middle of the dress went in rather sharply, and than flared out beautifully. There was a simple white sash for around her waist.
Well, here goes nothing.
America pulled the dress on. It fit perfectly.
I don't know whether to thank Poland or punch him.
My hair. Umm. Awkward shortness and guyishness.
America rummaged through her things, trying to remember where she'd stuck her small, hidden collection of old jewelry and hair clips from past first ladies.
Maybe I can sorta-curl the end of my hair around my fingers while I look. Worth a shot.
She looked with her right hand while her left twirled her hair without a clue what it was doing.
Finding the small wooden box, America pulled out a little gold locket on a chain and put it on with a fair amount of swearing when it kept catching her hair.
Prussia knocked on the door.
"Hey America, I found this in my suitcase. I think Poland snuck it in or something. It says for me not to open it and to just give it to you. Can I come in?"
America opened the door and hid behind it, sticking an arm around the side. Grasping the little bag he had given her, she then shut the door.
"Well then. That wasn't very awesome," she heard Prussia say and she rolled her eyes before opening the bag.
Makeup.
Are you fucking serious?
Nope, that would be Lupin.*
I need a new brain.
Prussia was bored. He knew America was a girl and all, but he figured that she'd been living as a man for so long that she wouldn't take a goddamned half-hour to get ready.*
America opened the door and yelled down the stairs.
"Dude, I know Poland too well. Where the hell are the shoes he snuck into your bag?"
"Touchy," Prussia muttered as he chucked the shoes up the stairs.
"You are so lucky they didn't break anything asshole."
"Why the hell are you so mad?"
"I've never spent so long getting ready in my life! And I'm wearing makeup! I haven't worn makeup since that time like, forever ago when Poland and Hungary tied me to a chair and forced me to learn to apply it!"
"Oh."
"Yuh huh. And I don't have any pockets," America grumbled as she thunked down the stairs, somehow managing to make loud stomping noises in a pair of sparkly silver flats.
"Woah?"
"What?"
Prussia poked her. "What the hell did you do to yourself?"
"Do I look that bad?"
"Well, no, but-"
"Then let's go. I'm starving."
Prussia followed her out to her driveway, trying to figure out how to tell her that she looked drop-dead awesome without her thinking that he was lying. America suddenly turned and ran back in, grabbing her bomber jacket and her car keys.
"I thought we were going take my rental?" Prussia asked.
America rolled her eyes and stuck the keys in the ignition of her old black pickup truck. "Get in the truck."
Prussia shrugged and did so.
"Where to?"
Prussia gave her the address, and America started driving. It wasn't that she was a bad driver (She was better than Prussia in any case), but she definitely didn't give a shit about what other drivers might think of her skills. Scratch that, she was a terrible driver, her skills best described as a NYC taxicab with NASCAR speed and the precision of a hyperactive two year old with scissors. With equal danger to the well-being of herself as said two year old. Prussia, however, being used to bad driving, merely laughed and counted all the middle fingers they got with glee.
Arriving at the restaurant, Prussia suddenly realized something. "You can't drink. How unawesome."
"Bitch please," America smirked, holding up an ID.
Prussia took it, seeing that the date on it made her twenty-two.
"Nice," he said, handing it back to her.
America found a spot and turned to him after parking.
"Let's go bro!"
Entering the dimly lit and well-decorated steakhouse, Prussia headed straight to the hostess stand.
"Reservation for Awesome."
America cracked up. The hostess gave a smile of her own and said, "Right this way sir."
"Ooh, you're a sir now, huh?" America laughed to Prussia.
"You still sound like a guy." Prussia responded as they sat down and the hostess left.
America screwed up her face in concentration and moved around her mouth like she was trying to make "Finding-Nemo-esque" whale sounds.
"Better?" she asked in her real voice. It was a bit softer and infinitely more feminine, and it suited her better while dressed as she was.
"Yeah. Matches your hair."
"Fuck off."
Their waiter came and asked what they wanted to drink. Prussia got a beer and America went with a coke.
"Can't go wrong with a coke." America said.
"Unless you wanna get drunk."
"Yep. Unless that."
They looked over the menu for a bit and ordered their food the second the waiter came back with their drinks.
"Thanks Tim," America said.
"How'd you know his name- Oh, name tag. I'm an idiot."
America laughed, a higher, slightly prettier but still delightfully and equally obnoxious version of her usual laugh. "Wow, you finally admitted it."
"That was just an unawesome fluke."
"Oh, a glitch in the matrix?"
"Yes."
America had never done anything like this. Sure, she'd been to fancy dinners and stuff, but she'd never actually sat down with a friend and just talked over a nice dinner while feeling, well, pretty. Usually when she was with friends on non-meeting occasions, she was in jeans and an old t-shirt, sitting on the ground with either pocky or a lollipop falling out of her mouth as she yelled at the TV while trying to get as far as she could in the level without dying.
Or fries actually. I should really stop eating them while playing video games. It just wastes them. Great, now I really want fries.
They talked for a while, and then their food arrived. America debated on whether she should try to act polite while eating or just eat normally.
Normally. I like steak too much to take my time.
Needless to say, the two finished their food much faster than the average restaurant patron. America snagged one of Prussia's pieces of broccoli.
"You finished already?"
"Uh, yeah." America grinned and popped the broccoli in her mouth.
"So we can get dessert here," Prussia said.
"Or we can go back to my house and eat all the baking I did earlier today while playing some video games."
"I like that plan."
"Yep. More comfy, and I made apple pie."
"...Really?"
"Yeah."
"You aren't lying like last time?"
Haha, he totally fell for that last time.
"No. I have apple pie in my fridge. Homemade by me, and ready to be eaten with a lot of ice cream and carmel sauce."
"You're the best sister ever."
"Don't I know it."
Should that be said in a questioning tone of voice or not? Hmm. Cause we both know that I know I'm awesome, but it seems to be phrased kinda like a question. Oh wow there's a squirrel crossing that busy street out the window. It's so brave, running out like that. I hope it survives...
What was I thinking about again?
Prussia paid the bill. America tried to pay for a bit, but Prussia pointed out that she was supplying dessert and driving and she relented.
They got home much faster than they legally should have and America jumped out of the truck. "These shoes hurt like hell!" she exclaimed. "I can't wait to take them off!"
"America," Prussia said.
"Yeah?"
"Before you do, I just want you to know."
"Know what?"
"You look really, really, awesome and pretty."
America turned a bright shade of red. "Naw. If I were pretty, I wouldn't be able to pass myself off as a guy so well."
Prussia rolled his eyes and dragged her into her house. Or rather, tried too. Her door was locked. America grinned smugly and pulled out a star-spangled key with a bald eagle printed on it and unlocked the door.
Prussia dragged her to her hall mirror.
"Alright look," he said.
"What?"
"Start with your hair. It's all curl nicely. It looks awesome."
America's hair was slightly curled at the end and there was a beautiful little star-shaped glittering clip in it, holding Nantucket down to the side.
I suppose it doesn't look that bad.
"Then you did something to your eyes that make them look all gold and glittery. That looks awesome as well."
"The word you're looking is shimmery."
I did a pretty good job with my makeup didn't I? Especially considering I haven't done it in forever.
"You have a girly body, you just always have to hide it. America, you're a very pretty girl, awesome, and you need to have a bit more self confidence as who you are and not just as who you show yourself to other people, okay?"
"Thanks Prussia."
"Now can I have apple pie?"
America grinned. "Let me go stick on some PJs and then I'll put it in the oven to heat up. You go pick out a game."
And until the wee hours of the morning, the two of them played horribly violent video games, ate a tremendous amount of sweet foods, and joked around.
When Canada came in at noon for his and America's annual "forever alone" party, he found a living room covered in cookie and cupcake crumbs as well as some empty chip bags and a few cans of beer. Prussia was sliding halfway off of one leg of the L-shaped couch, and America was snoring and upside-down-hanging-off-of the other one. An Xbox controller was trapped beneath Prussia and America's controller was on her face.
Canada laughed. Then he stole a cookie and went to get a bowl of warm water so he could try to make one of them pee themselves.
*American Ride by Toby Keith. It's pretty entertaining, even if it is Country.
*German word for sister, just in case you didn't know. I had to look it up.
*A reference to the pairing Sirius/Lupin from Harry Potter. Serious and Sirius pun as well. If you aren't in the fandom, there you go.
*This is, of course, Prussia being an idiot and not realizing that a great majority of girls would take a hell of a lot longer than that. And America having no experience at all and not realizing that if she wanted to, she could make Prussia wait for at least an hour. Ah, the cruel way of girls when dinner is involved.