Hetalia isn't mine, neither is Chris Hemsworth.

Everyone had gone back to their hotels by the time Anna and Marco had come back, saying their goodbyes. France was finally kicked out of the house as well, the ecstatic Englishman throwing well-aimed shoes at the back of the Frenchman's head as he walked down to his long abandoned car.

Anna was practically glowing when she stepped back in the house, her left hand a bit heavier than before with a shiny diamond. She ran up and gave her father a hug, still in the moment.

"Well, Marco, see! You really are family now! You know, she's had a crush on you ever since the beginning of high—" Anna covered his mouth, and tried to give him a scowl, but the blush on her face shown through.

"Really, now, is that so?" Anna turned to look back at Marco, who had a smug expression on his face.

"Yeah, read about it in her dia—" He felt a hard pinch on his arm.

"Dad, if you value your life!"

"But, hon, I'm supposed to embarrass you, that's what fathers are for! But, congrats, honey. I know you two are going to be very happy together." He kissed her on the cheek, and shook Marco's hand, Arthur following suit.

USUK

Alfred lay in bed that night, Arthur snuggled up close to him. His mind was wandering, but the soft breaths of his lover next to him kept him on the ground. Why had he been lied to? Why did the Witness Protection Agency gone to such lengths to make him "dead". He'd be sure to figure all this out after these meetings were over in a couple days. He'd head down the Washington and figure out everything with what was supposed to be his boss.

Arthur murmured something in his sleep, and Alfred turned over on his side and kissed the Brit on the forehead.

"Alfred…" Alfred smiled, and put his thoughts aside for the night. He had Arthur, his daughter was getting married, he was on excellent terms with his brother. His brother, who was dating that RUSSIAN! But Alfred didn't really mind deep down inside as long as Russia gave his brother the best, and Mattie was happy.

He drifted off, remembering the days before this whole big misunderstanding.

USUK

The meetings passed by quickly, and America was quickly getting back into the feel of things, and once again was one of the boys, although he didn't give any speeches, and simply sat next to his brother or spent time talking with other countries.

He was updated with what was happening in all other countries, and Anna would show up every once and awhile for lunch with him and Arthur, her Uncle Mattie wanting to meet Marco. It all turned out to be a pleasant week, although it started out traumatically. Alfred was losing his grudge towards France, but couldn't help give him a warning kick under the table when he got too friendly near England or Anna, even though it was just his disposition.

Alfred was now packing for his trip to Washington to fix this mess, when Arthur walked in with something wrapped up in a bundle. They were going, just the two of them. Anna was going to fly back to England the next morning, Marco seeing her off. She'd be home in a few weeks to get Arthur.

"Um, Alfred, earlier this week, I sent for something for you." Arthur nervously held out the bundle, and Alfred took it, puzzled.

He unwrapped it, and just simply starred at it.

"After all these years…" Alfred unfolded the bomber jacket, remembering it like it was yesterday.

"I had it hanging in my closet for the longest time, after they told me you were dead. You did leave for that mission without it, and whenever my missing you got overpowering, I'd get it out, and…hold it close, imagining it was you, smelling your stupid cologne, Axe, or whatever it was. I thought you'd want it." Arthur tried to hold back his tears, but as Alfred embraced him tightly, Arthur felt himself breakdown. Alfred led him over to the bed.

"I thought you were gone, and I felt like such an idiot for letting you go, such a horrible person. So I kept everything of real meaning away from sight, but there in mind, in storage. All your pictures disappeared into a drawer, all our memories shoved away, all but that jacket. Because you were the last one to wear it." Alfred let Arthur cry into his shoulder.

"I love you." Arthur smiled through his tears.

"I love you too, you git."

USUK

Anna knocked on her father's door, cautious not to repeat that awkward scene that happened a few days ago.

"Come in."

She opened the door, about to tell her father that dinner was ready, and that Arthur had tried to make dessert, when she saw Alfred standing in front of the mirror, a brown leather jacket on, posing in different directions.

"Damn, I've lost weight."

"Dad, where did you get that old jacket?" It was obviously worn, and old.

Her father turned around, in a T-shirt and slacks, his jacket sitting on top. He looked her age! He put on a bit of a toothy smile that reminded Anna of a movie star. So that's why he just has to wink at Arthur, and he'd blush! You go dad! "Dad, seriously, how old are you?"

"Nineteen, legally, but I was alive for the settling of Roanoke, before my mother was killed." He was looking back at the mirror.

"America has a mother…?"

"North America. She's long dead. I even wonder sometimes if she was just a kindly Native American woman who took care of me way back when. Anyway, what did you want, my daughter?" Anna shook herself back to why she'd originally come upstairs.

"I made dinner, and Arthur made some gray rocks for dessert."

"Ugh, Don't eat those honey, they're scones, and indeed are ROCKS. British cooking, how I love it."

He grabbed her hand and ran down the stairs.

She watched him with pity as her father finished off the plate of Rocks, saving her from eating anything. She'd slipped her serving long ago into her pocket, and Arthur was across the table, enjoying what he thought was a success in cooking.

Arthur seemed to have been surprised by way the 'Bomber Jacket' looked on Alfred, because he'd just gawked. What Anna didn't know, was that Alfred looked just like he had before this whole incident, in the jacket he'd not worn in over fifteen years. It pulled Arthur's heart strings for a moment, wishing they could get those years back.

She went up to her room that night, convinced by the way her boss and her father were relaxing on the couch together, that they were both finally happy, and finally where they belonged. It was a beautiful night in America, and a beautiful morning in England when she landed, Marco's last kiss on her lips.

Author's note: I spoil you guys. And we broke the 200th review! yay!

Now, I've never done the whole "Be this reviewer, and get BLAH!", but if you guys want me to write any little one-shot about something in this story, or a little suggestion of a USUK plot I could easily write, I'd be glad to. My profile page looks so empty.

Anyways, thank you, those who took my poll, which is still open, and will be for the remainder of this story for anyone who'd like to vote on their fav pairing. Out of 17, 14 voted for USUK, so...um...GO US!(UK)!

Fun Fact: Aaron Burr, Vice President (briefly) under Thomas Jefferson, was tried for treason (he killed Alexander Hamilton in a Duel after Hamilton made him lose his campaign for governor of New York.) and ran off to the louisiana Purchase to try to make his own country there. He was acquitted, much to TJ's disappointment. Hamilton lost the duel because he'd told his son it wasn't honorable to kill when not in combat. He shot straight, upwards into the air, when Aaron Burr shot him in the chest.

(Omg, I love the feedback you guys give me, and that yes, I am no alone when it comes to cute gay guys.)

REVIEWS ARE LOVE! PLEASE! (nope, not a review slut at all, nope nope nope(^-^))