AN: So uh... this chapter, along with a few more, are slightly crossoverish with BBC's show Sherlock... as in Sherlock and John make an appearance. But you don't really need to know the characters to understand what's going on. Also, please review!
Arthur walked through the busy London streets, his head clouded. He knew that he couldn't just follow this Peter man around. The man knew what he looked like and while to the other nations he seemed like a good spy, all in all he wasn't. At least not on his own.
It seemed like his feet knew just where to take him as his mind wondered. Suddenly the nation realized he was standing in front of a dark door with gold numbers on the outside.
"221B Baker Street," Arthur muttered to himself before knocking on the door. "The home of one Sherlock Holmes."
He could hear shouting from inside before the door finally unlocked. The man who answered the door was of average height, if not a few inches shorter than the nation. He was wearing a cream colored jumper and jeans.
"Hello," the man said looking Arthur over. "Can I help you?"
England was surprised to see that the eccentric detective had finally found a flat mate. "Yes. I'm looking for Sherlock Holmes," Arthur told the man.
Sherlock's flat mate pursed his lips before saying, "Right. Right this way." He allowed the nation to enter. England followed the man up the stairs.
"Who is it John?" Arthur could hear Sherlock call as the two entered the living room. Sherlock was wearing his signature suit and was laying on the couch. He had his hand steepled under his chin, obviously deep in thought.
John turned to England. "I'm sorry, I don't think I got your name."
"Arthur Kirkland," England replied. He watched as Sherlock sat up. John was startled by this action as well and gave Sherlock a surprised look.
"Good to see you again England. It's been ages hasn't it?" Sherlock asked as he looked the nation up and down.
"I suppose it has been yes," Arthur replied as he took a seat in one of the wooden dining chairs near the cluttered table. "How's Mycroft?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes and asked, "You would know better than I do. He does run your government for you."
England let out a small laugh. "Not all of it. But enough about that. I have a case for you that I think you'll be quite interested in."
"Please tell me it doesn't involve that obnoxious American again," Sherlock groaned as he stood and strolled around the room. "I think he blew up one of my experiments last time. And don't get me started on what he did with my chemicals."
"Actually I need some information," England said ignoring the question. "Alfred's plane crashed on the outskirts of London. Someone shot him down. He's in the hospital and you know how hard it is for one of us to get that injured. I haven't seen him this hurt since his civil war. I had no idea that a missile even went off. Then this man named Peter Williamson turned up at the hospital. Something isn't right here and I want you to find out what."
Sherlock nodded as John tried to scribble down everything England was saying. "Don't worry Arthur. We'll figure it out," Sherlock told one of his only friends. Even though the two weren't close the youngest Holmes brother knew everything about the nation, having been enthralled with the knowledge of them when he was young. So he knew just how England felt about America.
England let out a small sigh. "Thank you," he said quietly before standing. He let himself out of the flat and back onto the busy London street.