I don't own Hetalia: Axis Powers. A Kind of sequel to A Quiet Day, set three days after it actually. This time it's for America. A late birthday gift.
With The People
Alfred woke up with a start when he heard something crash. Not just a small crash, as if someone was tripping over something and accidentally knocked something over, but the kind of deliberate crash. Alfred groaned as he grabbed his phone. It was nearly noon. He yawned. It was probably that irritating alien again. The last time Alfred went out of town, he came home to find his entire refrigerator in parts and Tony claimed that the ice machine stopped working and he wanted to know why. Do you know how hard it was to explain to the Sears people that someone took apart his fridge and he really needed a new one, without mentioning the cursing alien?
Sliding out of bed, still in his boxers and t-shirt, went downstairs. To find that Tony completely wrecked his living room.
"DUDE! What the hell," Alfred demanded. The alien let out a rude word. "Clean it up!"
"Geez, dude, don't get your effing panties in a bunch cause your boyfriend ditched your ass," said Tony. Alfred's face got red.
"Don't mention that damn British idiot!" Alfred stomped into the kitchen and grumbled under his breath about aliens and stupid, stuck-up and moody Brits. It wasn't his fault that Arthur went all pissy in the last week of June until mid-July. How many times had he told Arthur that he wasn't actually rubbing the whole Revolution in face again? Sure, in the beginning, he totally was going for that feeling, but since World War II, it was more about his birthday. As usual, they got into an argument and Arthur stormed out.
Alfred went to his fridge and took out a cold slice of pizza to eat. While eating his pizza, he checked his email on his phone. He ignored the death threats from various countries, the fan messages asking for details about his and Arthur's relationship, and the states with their complaints about being broke. He answered the President's email. Alfred will be visiting them later. Also ignoring mail from various Congressmen and lawyers, he went to his Facebook and found a funny dog and cat picture. He sent that picture to Matthew. His brother always enjoyed them.
"Bro, I don't hear you moving in there," shouted Alfred to Tony.
Tony's response was classic "!%$#$%."
"You too," replied Alfred. He tried to call Arthur, only to get voicemail. He left a message. "Iggy, ignoring me will not make the problem go away. Pick up your damn phone and call me back!" Rushing upstairs, he dressed in shorts and an Avengers t-shirt. He put on his flip-flops and told Tony that he was leaving for a while and that his living room better be clean when he got back. Alfred had decorations to put up before his guests got here.
Tony told him to do something very rude. Alfred called him a name right back. It escalated until Alfred got so fed up, he left the house. He got into his car, an Audi (a compromise between him and his boss. Alfred still liked his gas-guzzling Hummer better). He drove to the White House. He was greeted by some Secret Service people.
"Hey, Mr. America, Happy 4th of July," said the agent.
"You too," said America, grinning. He handed the agent his identification. Even he, a country, had to go through the security to get into the White House. "It's hot out. I feel sorry for you."
"It's all part of the job," said the other agent. Alfred let them check his car and he drove to the driveway where all the President's cars were located. He rushed out of his car and didn't bother to lock it. He went inside. Alfred knew the layout of the building like one of Japan's awesome video games. He went immediately to the Oval Office. The guards stationed all over the building barely batted an eyelash at the fact that their country was running around the White House like a kid in a candy store, dressed like a beach bum.
"You're late, Alfred," said the President, sighing, at his country. "I'm supposed to be on a plane, headed to Chicago right now, you know. I sent the family on ahead."
"Sorry, boss, I slept late," said Alfred.
"Of course, you did," the Commander-in-Chief replied. "So, I need you to sign all these papers and then you can go on with your day. By the way, why did the UK's Prime Minister call me worried about the welfare and happiness of England?" Alfred averted his eyes. Most Presidents tended to take a father-figure role towards Alfred, because the country was like a teenager. One look at the President's disappointed gaze would make Alfred spill everything and frankly, he was a nearly two hundred and fifty year old country and his relationships with the other countries he really didn't want to discuss.
"Just an argument. He gets like this around this time of year. He'll get over it," said Alfred. It didn't really feel like the truth. He didn't think Arthur was ever going to get over the whole Revolution thing.
"Uh-huh," was the President's response. He totally did not buy it. Alfred signed the papers and left the Oval Office. He composed himself and greeted every one of the guards cheerfully. All hid smiles, everyone had a kind of fond feeling for the personification of their country as if he were a favored nephew.
Eventually, he reached his car and departed the White House. He, then, drove around DC in traffic. There was always traffic but this was Fourth of July traffic. He stopped at a park. Alfred liked to walk around and see all the families celebrating together with picnics. Sometimes, if someone recognized him, he got invited to join. His guests were not getting there until four o'clock so he still had time. He was a big eater, after all.
"Daddy, look it's Mr. America," said a young teenage girl, pulling on her father's arm, pointing at America. The father and daughter were walking around, getting ice cream bars from the vendors.
"Sweetie, don't point, it's rude," said the father. "Happy Birthday, Mr. America."
"Woah, Happy Fourth, you two. Look at all the ice cream. Good choices," said Alfred.
"Daddy, let's invite him to eat some ice cream with us," demanded the thirteen year old. The father nodded. "Do you wanna?"
"Sure," Alfred cheered. He helped carry the ice cream and followed them to their picnic spot. Even though he had lots of bad personality traits, if there was one thing that no one could deny was that he really loved his people. He picked an ice pop and sat with the girl's grandparents as she, her father, her little brothers, and mother ate the ice cream.
"I haven't seen you in a long time, in person," said the old man.
"We've met before?"
"Yeah, I was stationed an air base in Britain during the War," replied the old man. Alfred didn't need an explanation of what war the old man was talking about—World War II. "You've not changed much."
"Nations don't really change much," said Alfred. "Glad you remembered me!"
"How could I forget? You and I suppose that was Britain spent the entire joint air force meeting arguing," said the old man, chuckling. "Should have suspected your relationship, then."
Alfred coughed and at least had the decency to look embarrassed. Thankfully, the two boys and the girl wanted America to play Frisbee with them. Spending an hour playing with the nice family, he had to go home. He walked back to his car. He got in his car and turned it on. Alfred tried to call Arthur again.
'This is Arthur Kirkland, also known as England, Great Britain, or the UK, please leave a message and I'll get back to you, but if you're that git America, I'm not calling you back.' Alfred's left eye twitched.
"Oh, that's really childish Iggy! I cannot believe you changed your voicemail thing to that," he yelled into the phone. "Seriously, just call me back!" He threw his phone on the passenger seat. "Jerk."
Driving home, he was fuming mad at Arthur. This was getting ridiculous.
At home, Tony thankfully cleaned the living room. Alfred went to a closet and dug out his decorations for his party. Tony was in the kitchen, drinking beer and eating chocolate ice cream (He claimed that the best invention that Earthlings had was ice cream and claimed that the alcohol on Earth was subpar).
"Dude, are you going to help," asked Alfred.
"Thank you for nothing you useless alien."
"You're welcome, bro."
By the time he finished setting up the decorations and bringing out all the food (he totally had it catered, his cooking…was about as bad as Arthur's), his guests should be arriving. He could count on his brother arriving first to double check everything that Alfred already did. Mattie was like that, when he was not being a wallflower. If he just were a bit louder, people wouldn't forget about him.
"Alfred, why is Tony drunk," asked the soft voice of his brother, Mattie. Hanging on Mattie's arm was Mari (Seychelles), Alfred scowled. It wasn't as if he didn't like Seychelles. She had an awesome island for vacation and she did care about Mattie, but it didn't sit well that Mattie's attention was held elsewhere. Despite their differences and their many arguments, Alfred really did love his big brother.
"Why? I haven't no idea. Dude's got probs," replied Alfred, obnoxiously. "How you been, Mattie?"
"Alfred, I saw you three days ago," replied his brother. Seychelles glared at Alfred. Alfred did not feel up to arguing with his brother's girlfriend again. He already irritated Mattie enough with that on Monday. Suddenly more people came out to his backyard. Japan, Greece, Germany, Prussia, both Italy brothers, France, Austria, Hungary, Spain, Belgium, Netherlands and Luxembourg arrived. Prussia smirked.
"Someone's getting old," said the no-longer a nation Prussia.
"You're one to talk," replied Alfred. Japan, China, Vietnam, Thailand, Laos and the rest of the Asian countries arrived next. Soon his backyard was filled with nation-tans. Several arguments broke out almost immediately as Mattie helped Alfred start up the grill. Prussia and Russia got into a fist fight that Germany had to break up. Italy cowering behind Germany the whole time. Scotland and Northern Ireland dragged Tony outside and proceeded to get him even drunker and themselves completely drunk. The female nations, as usual, watched the men with exasperated looks, as they helped themselves to the food. Aside from some countries that Alfred didn't really know or that didn't like him, England was the only one that didn't show up. Ireland, the older sister of the UK of GB and NI (England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland) and almost an aunt to him and his brother, sent him pity look. Arthur was not going to come.
That was fine with Alfred. It wasn't as if he were alone on his birthday. He had his friends and family (the states weren't there but that was because they were all celebrating in their own states and because Alfred wanted none of his states near the nations). He really didn't need Arthur here with him.
He wanted him there and that was the difference.
"Glaring at the grill isn't going to make it go faster, Al," said Mattie, softly. (Why was it that Mattie's voice always sounded so soft to Alfred?) Matthew gave him a meaningful look. Sometimes being so close to both Arthur and Alfred was tough on Alfred's older brother, especially when he and Arthur were arguing. "Did you call England?"
"Twice," replied Alfred, evenly.
"And did you yell at him on the voicemail? You know how hard this time of year is for him. You, more than anyone else, knows what the whole American War of Independence did to him all those years ago." Matthew was scarily perceptive sometimes.
"I might have."
"When you talked about the party, were you pushy and rude?"
"I might have been."
"You should call and not yell at him. Be considerate of his feelings. Tell him you want him here."
"I should, but I'm not…going…to…" Matthew was giving him the LOOK, the look that made Alfred feel like a kid. Sometimes Matthew was too good at being a big brother. Even though he wasn't bossy like most big brothers, Matthew had the scariest look (you know what look I'm talking about). "Fine."
He went inside his house and to the living room. He called Arthur's phone for the third time that day (not to mention the 14th time in the past three days, but who's counting).
Arthur picked up, this time. "Can you stop calling me and wasting my voicemail space?"
"Geez, happy to hear your lovely voice, Iggy," started Alfred, sarcastically.
"What do you want, wanker," snapped Arthur.
"Come to the party. I want you to be here."
"I'm not rubbing in it your face about my Independence. It's my birthday first, you know? Can't I want you here?"
"…You're not fair."
"I know. Love you too, Arthur."
"I love you too, Alfred, even if you are an idiot."