Chapter 2 is heeeeeeeeere! And it sucks. SUUUUCKS. It didn't turn out at all like I wanted it to, and...I just hate it. Read at your own risk.
Oh, and I'm introducing Spy!Canada. That's like the only thing I like about this chapter.
England: Uh, who am I in love with, exactly?
America: Oh, like you don't know.
Chapter 2: Of Roses and Spies and Failure
America sat at his desk in his hotel room, drawing and doodling and crumpling up pieces of paper as he racked his brain for ideas on how to find out exactly who England was in love with.
Not that it bothered him. At all. He was just so damned curious!
America slumped in his seat and kicked at the little wads of paper sitting at his feet. It had ben almost an hour and thirty minutes, and America, the hero, hadn't thought of a single idea.. He really wanted-needed-to know just who England was so infatuated with. America didn't know why. It just...nagged at him.
America began scratching random pencil lines on the sheet of loose leaf paper attached to his red, white, and blue notebook before an idea sparked. Alfred F. Jones, the personified America, began scribbling all over his notebook. He was sure it was pure, epic genius.
Hopefully, this time, his idea sounded much better out loud then it did in his head.
~GuessingGameGuessingGame~
Canada picked at his food with his fork nervously. He had been here with France for a while, and had talked about various other things, but an awkward silence had fallen over the two. Canada hated awkward silences. They always made him feel uncomfortable.
"Ainsi, sur l'Amerique et l'Angleterre," Canada started, looking to strike up a conversation with the blonde sitting across from him. France glanced up.
"Ah? Ah!" France's face broke out into a grin. "J'ai presque oublie! I almost forgot!" France smiled and Canada cocked his head to the side, the little strand of hair at the top of his head bouncing in the exact opposite direction.
"Eh?"
France fixed Canada with a serious gaze. "It seems England is in love with somebody." The Frenchman casually took a sip of wine from his glass.
The Canadian looked up from his food. "Eh? Vraiment? With who?"
At this, the Frenchman merely smirked at the Canadian sitting across. Eventually, Canada understood.
"N-No way!" Canada gasped, shocked. France nodded.
"Yes. It's so obvious. It has to be-" France was cut off by Canada, who was now extremely excited at the revelation.
"This is exciting!" Canada began jumping up and down in his seat and twiddling his thumbs. Then his face grew solemn. "And..I suppose A-"
France held a finger to his lips. "Shush, Canada. Use the code names."
Canada's eyes widened in realization, then nodded. "Uh, so...Object 1, if I presume c-correctly, is too dense to notice that Object 2 is in fact in love with him?" Canada winced at the un-originality of the code names. France nodded. "And-and Object 2 has too much pride to admit that he is." France smiled.
"Excellent. That is exactly right," the Frenchman took another sip of wine and crossed his legs.
Canada was rather proud that he was able to decipher the hidden meaning behind it all. He took a piece of the cuisine in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Swallowing, he said, "What are we going to do about it?"
Francis hesitated a moment. "We're going to be playing marieur. Matchmaker. Doesn't that sound like fun?" Canada rolled his eyes at the Frenchman's excitement. But nonetheless, Canada was excited too.
"Count me in!" Canada grinned. France smiled.
"Je savais que vous seriez," France chuckled. "So here is what we must do."
~GuessingGameGuessingGame~
America stood outside the door to England's hotel room, breath hitched. His plan had been carefully thought out. The so-called hero was positive that it would not fail. At least, he was half-positive. The other half was just his ego getting the best of him.
Do you want to find out who England is in love with or not? America raised his hand to the door and knocked once. Twice. Then he began rapping repeatedly against the door, just to annoy him. That was their secret language. It basically meant, "Hey, Iggy, it's America. I've come to ruin your day."
England came over and opened the door a crack. Upon seeing America's face, he promptly slammed the door shut again. America pouted.
"Come on, Iggy! Don't be like that!" America rapped on the door again.
"Go away," came the muffled voice from inside. "I don't want to have to deal with you right now. Bloody wanker."
America sighed. "Don't make me break the door down."
"O-oi! Don't do that! It's not mine!" England yelled.
"Then let me in," America demanded. He waited for a few seconds, then the door cracked open again. This time, England opened it fully and frowned. The Brit was wearing a white button-up shirt and dress pants. Typical. America was just wearing a Star Wars T-shirt, his bomber jacket, and jeans.
"What do you want?" England asked, avoiding eye contact with America. America just laughed, and, for a brief moment, forgot what he had came here to do. Then he remembered.
"Wanna watch a movie with me, Iggy?" America jumped up and down and held up the movie. England scoffed in disdain as he saw the cover.
"Spider-man? Just how old are you, America?" England rolled his eyes and blew a strand of hair out of his face. America pouted.
"You won't watch it with me?" the hamburger-lover's voice whimpered dejectedly. The Englishman felt his cheeks burn, and, stepping away from the door, said, "Fine! But only because I have nothing better to do." Yes, I do. I have a lot of paperwork to get finished and a new episode of Torchwood is airing tonight.
America's smile, however, whether the Brit would admit it or not, had to be worth it all.
~GuessingGameGuessingGame~
"Gyah! Japan, get off of my foot!"
"Sorry, France-san!"
"I-um, is all of this really necessary, eh?"
"Yes! Absolutely necessary, mon cher! Now hush up so that we can finish!"
"My video camera has finally started working! Yes!"
Thus was the conversation going on right outside the hotel room's window. It was actually pretty surprising that the two English-speaking nations didn't open the window and look at whoever was making all the noise, with all the racket that was going on there. The four were perched atop a tree. The things people do for some good, old-fashioned yaoi.
Those present were currently France, Canada, Hungary, and Japan. They all sat huddled outside in the warm summer air...at a very high point on the tree. Japan fiddled with a tiny, circular device in his hand, while Hungary silently cheered as her video camera began functioning properly. France had a pair of binoculars and was looking through them at the window, and Canada held a CD case a little too tightly in his shaking hands.
Japan turned to France, apparently satisfied that the circular device in his hands was working properly. "France? Please hand me the binoculars." The blonde happily obliged. Japan looked through them.
"We have time," the Japanese man said, handing the binoculars back to France. "Object 1 and Object 2 have just started the movie. We have to wait for the perfect moment." Japan blew a stray strand of jet black hair out of his face, smiling.
France cocked an eyebrow. "What exactly are you going to be doing, might I ask?"
In response, Japan only tapped the small, circular device in his hand. "You will see, France-san. You will see." Hungary muttered something about "moe" as Canada sat wondering how the hell he got himself into this.
~GuessingGameGuessingGame~
America plopped down on the couch next to England. He noticed that England attempted to stay as far away from him as possible. The American sighed. Some things he would never understand about the Brit. America popped the DVD into the player and waited as the trailers came on. England was quiet.
The hamburger-lover decided to beat around the bush for a little while, to pass the time during the trailers.
"Soooo," America started. England looked up from his feet for once and cocked an eyebrow.
"Hm?"
"It's pretty sweet, you know?" The blue-eyed nation sighed, pushing Texas further up his nose and grabbing the remote. England leaned back against the couch.
"What is?" he asked without looking at Amreica.
America clasped his two hands together. "The entire Mary Jane and Spider-man thing! It's so sweet that their love has made it through so many things!" America pressed play when it got to the Menu. England was quiet.
"So?"
"So..." America grinned. "It must be pretty nice to be in love with someone, huh? I don't know what that feels like." If America hadn't been tapping his chin thoughtfully, he would've seen England pressing a pillow to his face to hide his blush.
"O-oh?" England responded dumbly.
America nodded. He turned towards the Englishman, who seemed to have scooted even further away from him. "Hey, Iggy!" America popped his right hand into his left palm, as if he had just gotten some great idea.
England turned away from the television screen to look at America, and immediately regretted it. The American had somehow inched his way over to England, so that their faces were merely inches apart. England blushed furiously. Alfred! Stop this! Stop being so bloody daft and realize how awkward this situation is! The Brit mentally cursed the American's innocence.
"Have you ever been in love, England?" America asked, their faces still inches apart. America had tilted his head to the side so that the little strand of hair that defied gravity on the top of his head tilted in the other direction. His face screamed innocent, and England was screaming random curses in his mind.
"I-er...I-!" England had trouble forming coherent words, and instead, slammed a pillow into America's face. America reeled back on the couch, looking hurt. England almost felt bad. Almost.
"B-bloody wanker! That's none of your business! Now-now sit down and watch the damn movie...Need I remind you, you suggested it," England's face was burning, and America had finally noticed.
"Oh," America cast his eyes downward, pouting slightly. Somehow, he felt bad. Maybe he was too forward? "I'm sorry, Iggy." England's eyes softened at the remark, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Er, okay," he sighed. "Me too. I...overreacted."
America smiled and plopped back down on the couch. England scooted as far away as possible once again. The two sat in silence as they watched the rest of the movie. Although America found himself not watching the movie. He was watching England watch the movie. He found himself memorizing the parts the Brit chuckled at, the parts he frowned and smiled at, and the parts where he seemed sad.
America didn't even notice he wasn't watching until an explosion occurred on screen, making him snap his eyes off of England and back to the screen, and this time, he kept his eyes there. Whoa, he thought. The heck was that?
~GuessingGameGuessingGame~
Japan peered into the hotel room through the binoculars. It was almost time for the first Spider-man kiss scene. Japan whipped out the tiny circular device in his hand. "Initiating step two, now." He whispered, and everyone readied themselves. Hungary positioned her video camera, France leaned over Japan to see through the window, and Canada shakily crossed the branch to look over Japan's other shoulder.
Japan placed the little circular object in the small space between the top of the open window and the bottom. Then he pressed a blue button on the back of it. All of a sudden, a gust of wind whipped its way into the hotel room, targeting the two nations sitting on the couch. Japan considered it lucky that the curtains were down, but parted just enough so that the eavesdroppers could see the two English-speaking nations, but they couldn't see them, or the device.
Japan gave the 'thumbs-up' sign, and the three gave it back. If it all worked out the way it was supposed to...
~GuessingGameGuessingGame~
England was the first to feel it. A strange feeling of cold had descended upon them, and he shivered lightly. He glanced over at America, who didn't seem to be feeling anything, due to that bomber jacket of his. Git.
England tried to focus on the movie, where Mary Jane was currently being attacked by some muggers. But it was getting rather cold. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms in an attempt to become warmer, but to no avail. The Englishman was beginning to become unbearably cold, but he refused to show it, especially to America. He had his pride to think of, you know.
Then, because karma hates him, England sneezed.
The older nation blushed lightly and took out a handkerchief to wipe his nose. America had turned to him already. Figures.
"Hey, England," America called. England looked over at him.
"What?"
America paused to collect himself. This entire time, he had been thinking about ways to find out who England's crush was, and the sudden distraction was unexpected. "Um, are you cold?"
England shook his head violently. "No!" The last thing he needed was America giving him another heart attack tonight.
"Me thinks you protest too much, Iggy," America insisted. England tried to stare the younger nation down, but was interrupted when he shivered slightly. Curses. The American smirked triumphantly. "Thought so." And with that, he scooted across the couch, discarded his bomber jacket, and draped it over England's shoulders. As if that hadn't made England blush enough, America wrapped his arms around England's waist and placed his head on the Brit's shoulder.
Which was especially awkward because Mary Jane and Spider-man were currently making out on-screen.
"What are you doing, America!" the Brit had intended to hiss, but it came out choked. His face felt like it was on fire.
"I'm keeping you warm. I'm supposed to be the hero, after all," America stated simply, not moving his head or looking away from the television.
England tried to wriggle out of the American's grasp, but to no avail. The Brit sighed and focused on the movie again. "You're despicable." He felt America smiling.
"I'm America," Alfred said, as if that explained everything.
The two sat in silence for the next couple moments of the movie. Then, America felt that nagging feeling to know again, and his mind reeled back to his quest.
"So, England," America said, moving away from England. A part of his brain missed being in the Brit's embrace, but he brushed it away as soon as it came. "About my question earlier."
The Brit felt his face flare up. "I told you it was none of your business."
America frowned. "Come on, Iggy~! Pleeeease!" The Brit began rubbing his temples.
"If you must know, America," England began. Then he paused for a second. "Will it get you to shut up and allow me to watch the movie?" America smiled and nodded.
England nodded back, then, turning back to the screen said, "All I will tell you is that, yes, I am currently in love with someone. Whether or not that someone returns my feelings is beyond me. Now will you leave me alone?" The Englishman felt his face flush.
America stared. "Uh, so..." The American felt a sudden pang in his heart. He had no idea what it was, but it made him feel...weird. "...um. C-can I ask you who it is?"
England blushed. "No!" America reeled back and pouted. England sighed. "No, America. I'm never telling anyone, least of all you. Please, watch the movie." England unconsciously wrapped America's bomber jacket even tighter around his shivering body, and America, once again, sat on the other end of the couch. The blue-eyed nation got out a tiny notepad from his jean pocket and wrote:
Discuss Over Romantic Movie-Ineffective. Over Dinner?
The American quickly threw the notepad back into his jeans and watched the rest of the movie with Iggy in silence.
~GuessingGameGuessingGame~
Japan cursed mentally. Baka tsundere! We'll get you yet! Hungary, who seemed to be reading his thoughts, whispered, "Well, at least we got some good moe." Japan glanced over at her, and nodded, thinking of the bright side. France sat sulkily on the branch above Japan.
"I didn't get to see any action, Japan!" France pouted. Canada, who was on the same branch as France, sighed.
"Relax, France. We still have another chance. Supposedly, they'll be eating dinner together, too, so...," the Canadian trailed off. Phase 3 was where he was most involved, and he didn't want to do it at all. Period. If he'd get caught...
Japan snapped his fingers. "Alright, everyone! Initiate step three!" Canada nearly fell out of the branch. France steadied him.
Canada pulled the black mask over his face. He kind of liked the spy outfit he was given, but it wasn't like he actually needed it. All he had to do was get in there, insert a CD in the CD player, get out without being seen, and hope for the best.
...Without being seen. Oh, the irony, eh.
GuessingGame~
The movie credits showed, and America sighed. He was going to have to get it out of Arthur one way or another, even if it killed him!
"Hey, Iggy," America said. "I'm gonna eat dinner here, 'kay?" England rolled his eyes.
"Okay. Just don't expect me to cook," England snorted, getting up off of the couch, bomber jacket still attached to him. The Brit would never admit it, but he liked America's bomber jacket. It was very...warm. And comforting. N-not because it smelled like the hamburger-lover. At all.
"'Course not! You think I'd actually ask you to cook? I'm crazy, not suicidal," America snorted back. England grabbed him by the collar and began threatening him, America laughing the whole way through.
After a bit of debate, America settled on the hamburger he'd kept in his backpack, and England said that he had eaten already. America shrugged, and the two sat arguing about this and that at the table, one devouring a hamburger and the other sophisticatedly sipping tea.
~GuessingGame~
Canada quietly opened the window to the hotel room and slipped in. England and America had evacuated the area near the window and Canada tip-toed his way to the DVD player and searched for the CD player. He found it adjacent to the DVD player. Reaching into the pocket of his black spy pants (provided by Japan-ugh), he pulled out the CD. It was entitled "Sweet Love Tunes". ...Actually, it was just a recording of some sweet songs Austria had composed on the piano, but whatever. They were still sweet.
Outside on the tree, France's breath hitched in his throat. How come he never noticed Canada looked really good in black...? The blonde Frenchman turned to Japan and Hungary, who were staring at him. "Merde," France cursed. "Did I just say that out loud?" Japan grinned and Hungary immediately began writing things down in a little notebook. France face-palmed.
Somehow, he felt like that one comment would get him in trouble later on.
Canada opened the CD player and placed the CD in carefully. Then he pressed the close button, and play. Then, reaching in his black backpack, he grabbed Hungary's video camera. He was about to reach for the light switch when he swore he could hear the Mission: Impossible theme song in the back of his mind. Canada sighed.
Maybe he shouldn't hang around those three too much...
The Canadian reached for the light switch and darkened the lights in the room. As soon as that happened, the music began playing. Karma...huh.
Matthew Williams, Canada, slowly eased himself into the kitchen and hid in the corner, easily unnoticed by America and England, who were currently looking around, wondering why the lights had gone out, and where the music was coming from.
Canada flipped open the video camera and pressed 'record'.
Being invisible might not be so bad after all.
~GuessingGame~
America jumped when the lights dimmed, and even more so when the music played.
"Gyaaah! England, England, England! You're hotel room is haunted! Waaah!" America screamed and dropped his hamburger, jumping over to where the Brit was to hide behind him.
"Get away from me!" England shouted, then sighed. This had been one weird night. Nothing else could be weirder. Period.
"Hey~the music is kind of pretty!" America suddenly closed his eyes and smiled. When England stopped panicking to listen, he realized it really was pretty, too.
"You're right," the Englishman replied, surprised.
America smiled. Maybe he could find out who England's love was now..."Hey, England."
"Hm?" The Brit's eyes were closed, and the shadows of a smile graced his features. America blinked a couple times before continuing.
"You ever danced?" America asked casually. England opened his eyes, irritated.
"Yes, America, I've danced before, obviously. And it's not that odd hip hop thing you consider dancing, I mean real, sophisticated dancing," England scoffed and America feigned a hurt look. Then, the American smiled.
"Ever danced with your crush?" America grinned and nudged the Brit in the shoulder, who immediately flushed.
"I-I told you I wasn't going to tell you who it was, and I never will!" England spat. America sighed.
"Is it France?" America winced at the thought.
"Are you mad? No. He is obviously in love with your brother, anyway," England responded. The Englishman swore he heard a tiny gasp from the corner of the room, but ignored it.
"Then...Japan?" Another inward wince. America actually liked Japan, and he still felt like puking at the thought of England loving him.
"No. Just friends. And he's in love with Greece. Stop asking; you will get nothing out of me."
Outside, Japan coughed lightly while Hungary and France stared him down.
"Uh...Spain?"
"No. Bloody hell no."
"Austria? He's...sophisticated."
"No, unless I was suicidal. He's got two people pining for him."
Outside, Hungary quickly texted Prussia: 'Stay away from Austria, you asshole!' And somewhere, Prussia sneezed.
"Prussia?"
"Fuck no. A million times fuck no."
"Wanna dance?"
"No–what?" England was shocked at the sudden change in subject, and turned to look at America, who had an innocent enough expression on his face. England felt his face flush.
"The music. It's nice..." America smiled. "I don't really want to waste it."
"Uh, er..I...um..I can't...I'm not...exactly...that is to say..."
"Please?" America brought out his ultimate weapon: the kicked-puppy look. England screwed his eyes shut, then opened them, and he knew he couldn't refuse. The Brit sighed.
"Fine. One dance," England sighed for the umpteenth time that day, but smiled when America smiled, because it was kind of contagious. America then remembered something, and looked down at the ground.
"I...don't exactly know how to dance like that. I just remembered," America scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. England rolled his eyes, then, reluctantly, said, "Fine. I'll teach you."
"Seriously?"
"D-don't make me change my mind."
~GuessingGame~
Canada held back a fanboyish squeal as England began showing America all of the steps. He checked the video camera to make sure it was getting all of this, then pinched himself to make sure this was all real. Yes, it was.
Canada would never, ever, ever admit that he was a US/UK fan, but he was probably the biggest one out there.
And he would have to ask England about that comment about France later...
Outside, France, Japan, and Hungary struggled to balance themselves on the same branch. Japan swore he heard a crack. Then two. Then three.
Then the entire branch began shifting.
"Damn, I think we're falling!" France cursed. Hungary gulped. Japan grabbed the tiny circular device and placed it in his pocket, then screwed his eyes shut tightly.
"We're going to die," Japan murmured. France and Hungary exchanged worried looks.
"You're helpful," the two muttered in unison.
Then, the branch gave way with a sickening Snap! and the three fell out of the tree. It was actually a pretty long...
"Omigooood, Japan! We're falling!"
"Just...don't land on your head, Elizaveta-chan!"
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
...way...
"What the hell? We're still falling!"
"I don't remember it being this high!"
"I'm too gorgeous to die, though!"
...down.
"Okay, this is just over-exaggerating!"
"I-I blame the author!"
"WHAT AUTHOR!" (A/N: My face right now: ;P)
The three fell back onto the ground with a huge crash, wincing at the slight pain. And just because karma loves them (or hates them), they landed in a large garbage container.
The three poked their heads out of the garbage and sighed, sweat-dropping. Mission failed.
"I think it came from over here!" America's voice. Crap.
The three looked up to see America and England peering out the window frantically. Hungary, France, and Japan immediately ducked back into the trash bin.
"Dude, maybe your hotel room really is haunted," America yelled.
"It..maybe it is..." England responded slowly.
The two closed the window again and Hungary, Japan, and France popped their heads out of the trash.
Japan sighed. "Mission failure. No trees next time."
France nodded. "Hey, where's Canada?"
His question was answered when Canada came out of nowhere and hit France on the head. Hard. France recovered quickly and gawked up at Canada, who was breathing heavily and glaring angrily at the Frenchman.
"Never again, Francis," the Canadian huffed. "Never, ever, ever again."
Hungary, France, and Japan looked up at him, and realized that they couldn't help but agree.
~GuessingGame~
America left England's room later, already formulating another plan in his head. He was humming, sure that it would definitely work. The American unlocked the door to his room and stepped inside. His mission had been a failure tonight. That wasn't going to happen at the next meeting Monday. He tried to ignore the warm, tingling feeling in his stomach whenever he thought of his and England's approximately thirty minute dance lesson.
I wonder how quickly I can get one of those eavesdropping gadget stuff that they use in the spy movies before then.
~GuessingGame~
It sucked. I hate this chapter. So very, very much. It didn't turn out at all like I wanted it to, and it kept getting sidetracked. I WILL DO BETTER NEXT CHAPTER! I AM SO VERY SORRY FOR THE CRAPINESS OF THIS ONE! *goes to emo corner to beat self up*
Please read and review...no..*ow* flames...
Oh, and America doesn't get a clue until...I dunno, but it isn't any time soon. I like making America an idiot. :D
And it will be better next time. I swear.
T.T
