Authors note: any reference i make to anything else besides hetalia such as Assassins creed, etc. i do not own! also this is not a countryxcountry fic so stop reading now if you have become dissapointed!

She moaned as if she had hit a wall and grabbed her arm that hit the hardwood floor with velocity. Slowly opening her eyelids, she saw Monica and Brittany sprawled on the floor as well. "Moni- MonicaaAAH!" she tried flailing her hand on her friend's back, but Monica stayed motionless.

Brigid sat up and smacked Monica's face dramatically, keeping beat at each syllable. "MON-IC-A! MON-IC-A!"

Monica's eyes flicked open and she shouted in a state of confusion. "The cake is a lie! Oh, what?" she looked around at the strange basement. "Where are we?"

Brittany was laying in fetal position breathing contently. Monica counted to three on her fingers and both girls shouted, "BRRRIIIITTTAAAAAANNYYYYYY!

She jerked up and looked around, finding her glasses & placed them on her face. "Whoa, weren't we just in the field?"

They sat upon a wooden floor that had strange chalk markings and ghostly white candles, their frozen wax, bleeding off its sides. There was an empty black, iron cauldron and a wooden stand with remarkable glossy carvings, with a familiar looking book sitting on top.

"Ahem." said a voice from behind them. They turned to face a figure in a black cloak. Sandy colored hair curtained his distinct eyebrows and forest green eyes. They gulped at the strange man who stepped forward. "I.. I think I know why you're here. You see, I did this spell and-"

"Spell? Like what we were doing?" asked Monica, " I didn't think that was a spell book, just an Old English piece of literature or something; by the way, Brittany was the one who casted it." she accused pointing to the culprit.

"Thanks Monica." Brittany replied sarcastically. Monica stuck her thumbs up ignoring her reply.

"You say you did the exact same spell I did?" they nodded. He walked back to the twin book and read the next few paragraphs aloud. "If you cast the parallel universe spell correctly, you will successfully transport yourself to another random universe. Should the case happen in which you say this spell at the exact same time someone else does, with an identical book, it will create a doorway. Whichever place has more mystical power will dominate the transfer between the universes."

"That makes sense, I guess." said Brigid.

"To an extent." added Monica.

Brittany asked, "So we're stuck here?"

"It appears so; but I'm sure we can get you three birds back home."

"That'd be helpful mister..."

The strange British man replied, "Call me Brita- I mean Arthur."

"Brita-Arthur?" remarked Brittany.

"No, no. I meant to say Arthur. Arthur Kirkland. So what are your names?" Arthur asked as politely as possible.

"I'm Brigid and this is Monica and Brittany. We're from America, in our world."

Arthur's smile turned into a faint frown. "Well, it's nice to meet you. How about you go upstairs while I look for a way to get you home? There should be some tea on the stove, & there are scones in the refrigerator."

They started upstairs into the kitchen as they heard Arthur skimming the pages out loud. Brigid poured some cups of tea and Monica took the scones out. The three observed the small British kitchen. The walls were painted a creamy yellow and the cabinets and countertops were glazed wood. On the fridge were photos of Arthur and a young boy with blonde hair and a cowlick, and an attractive golden haired man with a red 'X' crossed out on his face.

Brittany noticed there was a lone notebook sitting on a shelf by the sink. It had a mint green cover with gold latches, and becoming curious, she set it down on the table. Brigid noticed, "I don't think you should be reading that guy's personal stuff."

"It's probably just a cook book." The other two looked disapproving. "C'mon; it can't be too personal..." she flipped the small cover open as Brigid and Monica crept over her shoulder. Brittany cleared her throat, " Ahem: This journal belongs to Arthur Kirkland; also known as England/Britain."

"Britain?" asked Monica curiously. The other girl flipped a couple pages. "'May 26; 11:46am: Today, I decided to make some scones with my mum's special recipe except I added a secret ingredient. America and France are coming over so I hope they like them...
2:58p.m.: The bloody wanker said my scones were a load of crap before he even tried one! And the frog said nothing could make them good! I'll show them...' "

Brittany flipped a few pages and Brigid read, " 'September 15,' " she began, " ' America has prank called me seventeen times today, exclaiming "I AM THE GRIM REAPER AND IM COMING FOR YOUR SOUL, AHAHAHAHAHA~" then he hangs up; and when I try to explain it to Japan he simply says I'm just out of it and imagining things. I HAVE THE VOICEMAILS TO PROVE IT! DAMMIT!' " The three suddenly heard footsteps coming up the stairs and frantically tried to seem inconspicuous. Monica and Brigid skidded back to their chairs and Brittany slammed the journal shut, and then tripped as she got up out of the chair with Arthur's book in hand.

"Hm? What are you doing?" the British man asked, observing the situation.
"N-Nothing! Just having some scones!" exclaimed Brigid, who suddenly stuffed a scone in her mouth, "they're really goo- *cough* good." She held the slightly distasteful pastry down.

He looked down at Brittany who was slightly sprawled out, holding the journal out as if passing a baton in a marathon. "What are you doing with my journal?"

"Just putting it back…" Brittany quickly said as she tried to get up.

He snatched it out of her hand. "How much did you read?"

"Two entries." Monica replied. "Why is everyone named after countries?" Arthur sighed as he held the bridge of his nose.

"I was afraid you'd be like him… snooping around my stuff."

"Who?"

"He's not important." Arthur snapped. "But I might as well explain." So Arthur, or Britain/ England (however you want to put it) as they would now call him, explained why certain people were countries and how they have literally fought and argued throughout history. After he explained he stayed quiet as they let it sink in.

"I think I understand that." finally answered Monica.

"Not sure about you but my brain hurts." Brittany rubbed her temples.

"Well you've probably never experienced the history of the Earth in an entire nineteen minute conversation." Brittany couldn't help but agree with Brigid.

A loud pound rapidly began to bang on the door causing everyone to jump.

"Yo Britain, you in there? I brought some pizza and wings for the football game!" the energetic voice knocked louder. Then the person pushed the door open.

He had shaggy blonde hair and a cowlick that gravitated upward. Light turquois blue eyes were masked behind sleek glasses and he wore an American leather bomber jacket with a star on the front. He also displayed slacks and a casual t-shirt. The blue eyes looked from the girl with wavy brunette hair wearing a red t-shirt, to the girl with large square specs, to the girl with auburn hair, and back to Britain who showed a face of sudden embarrassment. The situation appeared to be very peculiar and awkward.