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everythingismagicTitle: You Can't Take the Sky From Me [FF.NET Chapter Twelve] [ Writing Journal Previous Chapters ]
Pairing: AmericaxEngland, PolandxLithuania, GermanyxItaly, SpainxRomano, Belarus---->Russia. Future pairings: GreecexJapan, HungaryxAustria, SwedenxFinland
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance/Humor/Drama/Action+Adventure/Alternate Universe
Word Count: 3.195
Summary: Ace Pilot America is on a mission for the World Military when a chance encounter with a group of Sky-Pirates leads him to team up with their captain, England, against a malevolent group that wants to fill the sky with zeppelins. [USxUK- Steampunk AU]
Chapter Summary: He ran toward the base, the pavement under his feet turning into grass as he made shortcuts through fields instead of sidewalk. The lights of the base served as a beacon, but they weren’t close enough. America had to get back to the hangar, had to radio England and make sure that--- oh God, they were already weakened. Dammit, I should have checked on them before now! “England is…” No, he refused to think about it, instead choosing to concentrate on not slipping in the damp grass.
Author's Note:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
winku did more GORGEOUS art for this story. Do check it out HERE, and drop her a well deserved comment!
“Estonia, Latvia, Belarus, Ukraine, and…” Russia’s arms were folded behind his back, and he walked in front of each of the four. He paused once he got to the fifth of them, his lips turning up into a cold smile, “Lithuania.”
The five members of the Kosmider present saluted, hands across their chests in a fist. “Russia, sir.”
“Now Lithuania.” He shot a pointed glance at the brown-haired young man. “You have returned from your mission near Ho-Rang-Eee. What do you have to tell me?”
Lithuania shuddered, feeling the intensity of Russia’s gaze. “We completed the mission successfully, Sir.”
“Details?”
Lithuania hesitated, and Estonia took advantage of it. “Russia, sir,” he spoke up, his voice loud and commanding. “Leave Lithuania alone today. He’s done enough for you already.”
A tangible silence fell in the room, as the other four Kosmider members and their leader looked to Estonia. The sound of the steam engines, far below in the bowels of the zeppelin, was the only thing piercing the quiet.
“E-Estonia,” Lithuania finally spoke, motioning in front of him with his hands. “I’m fine, really.”
Russia grinned at Estonia, as if he were a Cheshire cat who refused to show his teeth. “Estonia, I don’t believe Lithuania is in need of any defense. His proficiency in completing the mission shows well that he’s quite capable of defending himself, if he needs to.” He paused, snapping his head back toward Lithuania. “And surely, he would not be so excellent at it if he didn’t enjoy being my general, right Lithuania?”
The general stood firm, willing his knees not to buckle under Russia’s watchful eye. “Four hundred and twenty-five kilometers south of Ho-Rang-Eee, near the Bīng Chuān Ice Shelf, we encountered the Goguryeo Pirate crew.” He quaked, attempting to keep his expression neutral. “We escaped with little damage, Sir. They were not the formidable opponents the Nuberu and Taliesin proved to be,” Lithuania finished, and it scared him that he was able to deliver the message, a message that they’d successfully obliterated the Goguryeo, without faltering.
“Very good.” He walked down the line again, and each person stiffened as he passed them by. “Ukraine.”
“Sir?”
“How is the zeppelin construction faring in Medved?”
Ukraine smiled weakly, wiping away a tear that had pooled in the corner of one of her eyes. “Well, Sir. Our armada is growing. We’ll be able to double it in size within the next month, and there is plenty of money yet left, even doing that.”
“Very good,” he drawled out slowly. “You’re so reliable, dear Ukraine.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Now continuing on, it’s your turn now, Latvia.” The smallest and youngest member of the core group of the Kosmider darted his head up, his shoulders shaking. “We’ve eliminated two sky-pirate crews, but we have many more to go. We must speed up. Now why are we going after the sky-pirates first?”
Latvia gulped, and Lithuania shot him a sympathetic look. “B-b-because we don’t have enough steam power to face the military yet, S-sir?”
“And?”
“It’s the East Paradi uprising, isn’t it?” Estonia interrupted.
“Wait your turn please, Estonia,” Russia requested, or threatened, based on his tone. “Yes, we’re all familiar with the East Paradi uprising, aren’t we? They had grand ideas. I would very much have liked to help them. Why did it fail, Latvia?”
Latvia’s violet eyes grew wide. “The p-p-irates, Sir.” Russia gestured him to continue. “They didn’t anticipate… th-that the pirates would fight against them, fight with the military. They were s-surprised, and unprepared.”
“Battling pirates is nothing like battling the military. Surely you know that from the incident with the Taliesin. There’s no protocol, and they fight with such will power, such need for survival. It’s difficult to crush their spirits.” Russia’s eyes flashed. “Pirates are unpredictable, and the military is oh so very, very predictable. Once the pirates are gone, there will be no surprises. We will only need the steam power, man power, and the armada Ukraine speaks of.” He glanced to each and every one of them, a smile on his face and a cheerful lilt to his voice. “Once they’re eliminated, our path to victory is clear.” Latvia fidgeted and stared at his feet. “Lithuania.” The brown-haired man started. “Please come to my sitting room to discuss the details of our next mission in an hour, okay?”
Lithuania nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Wait!” Shouted a new voice, that of the previously unaddressed swordsmaster, Belarus.
“What is it, Belarus?”
Her fists clenched and her lips formed into a tight line. “Why did you not address me, Russia, dear?”
“I had nothing more to discuss.” He leveled her a look.
“I knew the answers to everything you asked!” She continued, stepping out of line and stopping mere inches in front of Russia. “I hang on your every sweet word and--- “ The other Kosmider members watched, rapt attention on the woman. “I-I- love you, I love you, I love you,” she spoke it like a mantra, now tugging on the collar of Russia’s uniform.
Russia cringed. “Belarus, you are--- the finest warrior the Kosmider has…”
“Then why am I not your right hand man? What does Lithuania offer that I don’t?” She paused, running her hand down his chest. “I offer so much more. We could be married, and rule the skies together,” she finished, huskily, her fingers now caressing his chin.
Lithuania watched in amazement, gaining a sort of great pleasure out of seeing Russia so taken aback. He was well aware that Belarus was ruthless and quite possibly insane, but this, this was not something he’d anticipated. He hoped that Estonia, Latvia, and Ukraine were enjoying it as much as he was. Lithuania glanced around. Ukraine’s expression was unreadable, Estonia was smirking, and the smallest of grins was gracing Latvia’s face.
Russia jerked away, his composure shaken. After taking a deep breath, he smiled and spoke, his deceptively sweet voice back in full force. “You are immensely valuable, Belarus. Lithuania is an excellent general, but you belong on the battlefield. Your skill is unmatched, and there is no greater use for those skills than to remove enemies… for me.” He laughed lightly. “Ah, or for us, even.”
His words were like honey and Belarus melted into them, a satisfied smile crossing her face. Her cheeks flushed. “Yes, Russia, dear. I will fight then, for us.”
For us? Lithuania shook his head. You will deceive anyone, even Belarus, so wholly devoted to you. This is for no one but you…
“My Vlasteliny Nebes, Russia, dear,” Belarus whispered and then leaned up, giving her commander a quick kiss before skipping off, the sound of her Mary Jane shoes clanking down the hallway.
-------------------------------------------------
America rested his head on his arms, rolling his chin back and forth on top of the bar and heaving a sigh. After his outburst in the hangar, and his frustration with the newspaper, he’d decided the best thing to do after work was to go out and grab a drink. It was the best idea he could think of that didn’t involve flying. He was aching to get in his plane. Damn, maybe I should just radio England and-- “Hey Cuba, get me another one.” He reached up with one hand and shook his empty glass.
“Dammit, America!” Cuba shouted, sliding a foaming glass of beer down the bar with all the force he could muster. America caught it nimbly in his hand, and Cuba cursed the aviator’s reflexes.
“Thanks for that!” America beamed, his million watt smile earning only a furious glare from the bartender. “Cheers!”
Cuba stomped over, stopping in front of America and leaning over the bar. “Pay your damn tab tonight, and don’t even think of sending your cousin in to do it in your place.”
“Aw, but Cuba…”
“It doesn’t matter to me how ace you are back on the base. I don’t give freebies to people just because they can fly a plane.”
“Yeah, yeah whatever,” America grumbled, swallowing another gulp of his beer. He had paused to stretch out his legs, when a tap on his shoulder startled him. He swiveled around, his eyes meeting a now fully clad and lipstick free France.
“Bonjour, America,” France said with a wave, pulling out a stool and sitting next to his captain.
“If you think I’m drunk enough to let you do anything, you’re wrong.” America frowned. “This is only my second beer, so don’t even.”
“Just your second? Then sadly, you are not drunk at all,” France mock sighed. “Although as much as I may wish otherwise, you have never been drunk enough to allow me to, ah, you know.” He winked.
“Shut up. What’re you here for?”
France shrugged, his expression turning serious. “I sympathize with your plight, America.” He rested his chin on his hands, rubbing the stubble that covered it. “They found the remains of another sky-pirate ship.”
“W-what?” America’s eyes grew large and he gripped his glass, panicked. “WHO?”
France cocked an eyebrow, confusion setting upon his features. “No idea. I just overheard it a few minutes ago. I--- “
But he couldn’t finish, because America had bolted out of his stool, so fast he knocked it onto the ground, where it clattered noisily. He shoved aside several customers, darting out of the door and barely hearing “HEY, GET BACK HERE AND PAY YOUR TAB!” from Cuba over the sound of his own wild heartbeat.
He ran toward the base, the pavement under his feet turning into grass as he made shortcuts through fields instead of sidewalk. The lights of the base served as a beacon, but they weren’t close enough. America had to get back to the hangar, had to radio England and make sure that--- oh God, they were already weakened. Dammit, I should have checked on them before now! “England is…” No, he refused to think about it, instead choosing to concentrate on not slipping in the damp grass. He cut across the lawn to the gate, quickly flashing the guard his military ID before being let inside.
America didn’t slow down, even as his breath caught and he grew winded. His hangar wasn’t far now, and when he made it there, he dashed inside and jumped into his cockpit as if his life depended on it.
The precious piece of paper, the one with England’s frequency on it, was in his pocket. He hadn’t thought about the fact that he stuck the note in his pants pocket every morning. It was just something he’d done. America felt as if it were safer to keep it close--- in case he needed to, well in case of a situation like right now. He vaguely recalled England telling him to memorize the frequency, and throw the paper out. “Oops?”
He flipped on his radio and, with a silent prayer, turned the frequency to the one England had instructed him to use.
“England? England are you there?” Silence. America gritted his teeth. “England, PLEASE answer me if you’re there. It’s me, America!”
A crackle on the other end of the radio, and then a rather bleary sounding “’Ello?”
“England!”
“Yes, yes it’s me, America. For Christ’s sake, don’t shout. It’s the middle of the bloody night.”
America exhaled, and nearly shouted with joy at the weight being removed from his chest. “You must be far away then. It’s only eleven p.m. here.”
“Oh, right, of course.”
The aviator cleared his throat. “E-England, are you all okay?”
“Quite. Prussia, Spain, and Romano are recovering well, and the ship repairs have been going perfectly.”
“That’s great news!”
“Why did you call me?” America could have sworn England’s voice was hesitant.
“I- uh…” He paused. “I heard that a pirate ship was taken down by the Kosmider. Had to make sure it wasn’t you.”
“Oh. Well. Thank you, America. We’re quite all right.”
America’s face brightened and he grinned. “It’s, it’s no problem! That’s what heroes do.” He paused. “I mean you are all wussy pirates and I didn’t know if you’d be able to handle--- “
“Shut up, you idiot.”
“Oh and I’m coming to see you.” This was out of America’s mouth before he had consciously registered what he was about to say, and he cursed under his breath. “I mean--- fuck.”
“You want to come?” And America must have been imagining that tinge of hope in England’s voice.
He rubbed his forehead, attempting to think of a reason for his outburst. “I uh er…” He began, “I talked to Romano’s brother. We know each other, actually. Did a mission together! Anyway, I told Italy that I’d check on his brother in person, so I’ve gotta come down there.” It was a terrible lie. He hadn’t told Italy that at all, but damn, it was the first idea that came to mind.
“I assure you that Romano’s fine.” England paused. “But I suppose, if you need to see for yourself, I can give you our coordinates.”
“All right! I’ll write them down right now.”
“No.”
“What?”
“When will you be leaving?”
America blinked and scratched his head. “Tomorrow morning, I guess? That’s maybe what, eight a.m. my time?”
“Noon here then. Radio me when you’re off the base. I don’t want to risk anyone overhearing our location. In fact, use the crank radio.”
“Geez, England, so secretive.”
“You know exactly why I am.” A moment of silence. “You should go. If you’re talking from the base, it’s best we keep this conversation short.”
America sighed. England was right. “’Kay, see you later.”
“See you then.” He heard England exhale. “Oh and America?”
“Yeah?”
“Good night.”
America flushed. “Good night to you too, England.” He clicked the radio off.
Leaning back in his cockpit, America sighed and ran his hand down his face. Had he actually just… told England he was coming to visit him? God, he didn’t think about what he was blurting out at all, did he? He frowned. He’d have to make something up, tell Japan and France to relay if asked that he was following a lead on the Kosmider or… something. Feeling cramped in the stationary plane, America stepped out of his cockpit.
Only to met with the firm, hard gaze of his cousin. Canada’s arms were crossed, and his lips had formed into a thin line.
“Canada!” America laughed nervously.
“It’s a good thing I fixed that radio, eh?” There was an edge to Canada’s voice, something unusual from his soft-spoken cousin.
“Oh yeah. You did awesome. I really appreciate it!”
“Don’t go.” Canada’s hands were now fisted at his side, and he was staring at his feet.
“What?”
“I was working late in my shop and saw you run in and… I heard your radio conversation.”
“Oh.” America paused. “Oh fuck.”
Canada snapped his head up. “Look, I don’t know what it is that’s so special about this man, but you can’t risk your job and your safety for him. It’s not safe out there! Please, just listen to me this once?”
America stepped forward, took Canada’s shoulders, and frowned. “I--- “ he paused. You what? “I want to go Canada. You’re not stopping me.”
The mechanic closed his eyes and sighed in exasperation. “I never can, can I?”
America let go of his cousin’s shoulders. “There’s no reason to. I can handle myself.”
“But…”
“Maybe I’ll come back with information on the Kosmider!” America countered.
“Maybe…” Canada replied meekly, his voice having lost that earlier hint of assertiveness. “Please, just think hard about it. A pirate ship! C’mon America. Whoever this England is, he isn’t worth---”
Canada was interrupted by very loud, very robust laughter, and the sound of someone padding out of the shadows toward them. America cursed as France made himself visible, his white bomber jacket slung over his shoulder and a smirk on his face.
“What’s so funny?” America snapped.
“You cannot be serious,” France said, still laughing. “I knew something had to be going on but… a pirate and... non, it is not the pirate part that is funny.” America was glaring daggers at him now. “ENGLAND? Captain Kirkland?”
The aviator’s jaw was set into a firm line. “You got a problem with that?”
“It is hilarious enough that you, America, the superstar hero, are off moonlighting as a passenger aboard a pirate ship…”
“It’s not like that!”
“I gather that this is not the first time you’ve visited Captain Kirkland?” France winked. America’s cheeks reddened. “Ah! It is worse than I thought. Your rosy cheeks are unmistakable.”
“It’s just… hot in here,” America argued lamely. Canada merely watched the exchange between the two.
“Oui. Especially when you are in love.”
At this, America’s face exploded, fierce red, and he spluttered. “SHUT UP!”
“I was merely joking.” France smirked. “I did not think that was the case, but you have proven me otherwise. I am aghast. I assumed no man or woman could ever fall for England.”
“I’m not!” He blinked. “What do you mean? How do you know him anyway?” America recalled England bringing up France the first night they’d met.
“It’s not a matter of knowing him,” France elucidated. “I have only met him a few times, all but one of those just in passing. I landed on his ship once, and he threw me off, rather violently I might add. But he has a reputation amongst those in the less, ah regimented parts of the world…” At this, Canada perked up. “Of being rather… unlikable. And of course, horrendously unattractive.” He sighed. “Eyebrows such as his, I had never seen and hope to never see again.”
America snorted. “Yeah ‘cuz you’re so much better.”
“Well I thought that was a given.” He placed one hand on America’s shoulder. “Even someone such as I would never assume to understand the strange ways in which love works.”
“Stop it France! That’s fucking ridiculous. We’re barely even friends.”
“Your cheeks tell me otherwise.” He poked America’s flushed face. “A lot makes sense now, certainly your sudden intense interest in defeating the Kosmider. And of course, your actions at the bar earlier.” He rested his elbow on America’s shoulder. “Canada, you’d best give it up and let him go.”
“But France!” Canada argued.
“It may be a good thing. You know why you frustrate me, America?” His tone switched to serious. “Because you are good at what you do, but you are also excruciatingly naïve and… you’ll be led around, have been led around, by those above you. America…” He paused, meeting his captain’s wide, confused and slightly angry, blue eyes. “You can become magnifique, if your mind becomes entirely your own. And if it takes England, the least suave pirate in the sky to do it then well…” He grinned cheekily. “I wish you a long and happy life together.”
America slapped France away and crossed his arms. “I’m going to bed! And when I leave tomorrow, tell my superiors if they ask, that I’ve gone to tackle a Kosmider lead.” He ran out of the hangar, eager to escape France’s embarrassing comments and perhaps even stranger, his somewhat roundabout praise.
Pairing: AmericaxEngland, PolandxLithuania, GermanyxItaly, SpainxRomano, Belarus---->Russia. Future pairings: GreecexJapan, HungaryxAustria, SwedenxFinland
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance/Humor/Drama/Action+Adventure/Alternate Universe
Word Count: 3.195
Summary: Ace Pilot America is on a mission for the World Military when a chance encounter with a group of Sky-Pirates leads him to team up with their captain, England, against a malevolent group that wants to fill the sky with zeppelins. [USxUK- Steampunk AU]
Chapter Summary: He ran toward the base, the pavement under his feet turning into grass as he made shortcuts through fields instead of sidewalk. The lights of the base served as a beacon, but they weren’t close enough. America had to get back to the hangar, had to radio England and make sure that--- oh God, they were already weakened. Dammit, I should have checked on them before now! “England is…” No, he refused to think about it, instead choosing to concentrate on not slipping in the damp grass.
Author's Note:
winku did more GORGEOUS art for this story. Do check it out HERE, and drop her a well deserved comment! “Estonia, Latvia, Belarus, Ukraine, and…” Russia’s arms were folded behind his back, and he walked in front of each of the four. He paused once he got to the fifth of them, his lips turning up into a cold smile, “Lithuania.”
The five members of the Kosmider present saluted, hands across their chests in a fist. “Russia, sir.”
“Now Lithuania.” He shot a pointed glance at the brown-haired young man. “You have returned from your mission near Ho-Rang-Eee. What do you have to tell me?”
Lithuania shuddered, feeling the intensity of Russia’s gaze. “We completed the mission successfully, Sir.”
“Details?”
Lithuania hesitated, and Estonia took advantage of it. “Russia, sir,” he spoke up, his voice loud and commanding. “Leave Lithuania alone today. He’s done enough for you already.”
A tangible silence fell in the room, as the other four Kosmider members and their leader looked to Estonia. The sound of the steam engines, far below in the bowels of the zeppelin, was the only thing piercing the quiet.
“E-Estonia,” Lithuania finally spoke, motioning in front of him with his hands. “I’m fine, really.”
Russia grinned at Estonia, as if he were a Cheshire cat who refused to show his teeth. “Estonia, I don’t believe Lithuania is in need of any defense. His proficiency in completing the mission shows well that he’s quite capable of defending himself, if he needs to.” He paused, snapping his head back toward Lithuania. “And surely, he would not be so excellent at it if he didn’t enjoy being my general, right Lithuania?”
The general stood firm, willing his knees not to buckle under Russia’s watchful eye. “Four hundred and twenty-five kilometers south of Ho-Rang-Eee, near the Bīng Chuān Ice Shelf, we encountered the Goguryeo Pirate crew.” He quaked, attempting to keep his expression neutral. “We escaped with little damage, Sir. They were not the formidable opponents the Nuberu and Taliesin proved to be,” Lithuania finished, and it scared him that he was able to deliver the message, a message that they’d successfully obliterated the Goguryeo, without faltering.
“Very good.” He walked down the line again, and each person stiffened as he passed them by. “Ukraine.”
“Sir?”
“How is the zeppelin construction faring in Medved?”
Ukraine smiled weakly, wiping away a tear that had pooled in the corner of one of her eyes. “Well, Sir. Our armada is growing. We’ll be able to double it in size within the next month, and there is plenty of money yet left, even doing that.”
“Very good,” he drawled out slowly. “You’re so reliable, dear Ukraine.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Now continuing on, it’s your turn now, Latvia.” The smallest and youngest member of the core group of the Kosmider darted his head up, his shoulders shaking. “We’ve eliminated two sky-pirate crews, but we have many more to go. We must speed up. Now why are we going after the sky-pirates first?”
Latvia gulped, and Lithuania shot him a sympathetic look. “B-b-because we don’t have enough steam power to face the military yet, S-sir?”
“And?”
“It’s the East Paradi uprising, isn’t it?” Estonia interrupted.
“Wait your turn please, Estonia,” Russia requested, or threatened, based on his tone. “Yes, we’re all familiar with the East Paradi uprising, aren’t we? They had grand ideas. I would very much have liked to help them. Why did it fail, Latvia?”
Latvia’s violet eyes grew wide. “The p-p-irates, Sir.” Russia gestured him to continue. “They didn’t anticipate… th-that the pirates would fight against them, fight with the military. They were s-surprised, and unprepared.”
“Battling pirates is nothing like battling the military. Surely you know that from the incident with the Taliesin. There’s no protocol, and they fight with such will power, such need for survival. It’s difficult to crush their spirits.” Russia’s eyes flashed. “Pirates are unpredictable, and the military is oh so very, very predictable. Once the pirates are gone, there will be no surprises. We will only need the steam power, man power, and the armada Ukraine speaks of.” He glanced to each and every one of them, a smile on his face and a cheerful lilt to his voice. “Once they’re eliminated, our path to victory is clear.” Latvia fidgeted and stared at his feet. “Lithuania.” The brown-haired man started. “Please come to my sitting room to discuss the details of our next mission in an hour, okay?”
Lithuania nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Wait!” Shouted a new voice, that of the previously unaddressed swordsmaster, Belarus.
“What is it, Belarus?”
Her fists clenched and her lips formed into a tight line. “Why did you not address me, Russia, dear?”
“I had nothing more to discuss.” He leveled her a look.
“I knew the answers to everything you asked!” She continued, stepping out of line and stopping mere inches in front of Russia. “I hang on your every sweet word and--- “ The other Kosmider members watched, rapt attention on the woman. “I-I- love you, I love you, I love you,” she spoke it like a mantra, now tugging on the collar of Russia’s uniform.
Russia cringed. “Belarus, you are--- the finest warrior the Kosmider has…”
“Then why am I not your right hand man? What does Lithuania offer that I don’t?” She paused, running her hand down his chest. “I offer so much more. We could be married, and rule the skies together,” she finished, huskily, her fingers now caressing his chin.
Lithuania watched in amazement, gaining a sort of great pleasure out of seeing Russia so taken aback. He was well aware that Belarus was ruthless and quite possibly insane, but this, this was not something he’d anticipated. He hoped that Estonia, Latvia, and Ukraine were enjoying it as much as he was. Lithuania glanced around. Ukraine’s expression was unreadable, Estonia was smirking, and the smallest of grins was gracing Latvia’s face.
Russia jerked away, his composure shaken. After taking a deep breath, he smiled and spoke, his deceptively sweet voice back in full force. “You are immensely valuable, Belarus. Lithuania is an excellent general, but you belong on the battlefield. Your skill is unmatched, and there is no greater use for those skills than to remove enemies… for me.” He laughed lightly. “Ah, or for us, even.”
His words were like honey and Belarus melted into them, a satisfied smile crossing her face. Her cheeks flushed. “Yes, Russia, dear. I will fight then, for us.”
For us? Lithuania shook his head. You will deceive anyone, even Belarus, so wholly devoted to you. This is for no one but you…
“My Vlasteliny Nebes, Russia, dear,” Belarus whispered and then leaned up, giving her commander a quick kiss before skipping off, the sound of her Mary Jane shoes clanking down the hallway.
-------------------------------------------------
America rested his head on his arms, rolling his chin back and forth on top of the bar and heaving a sigh. After his outburst in the hangar, and his frustration with the newspaper, he’d decided the best thing to do after work was to go out and grab a drink. It was the best idea he could think of that didn’t involve flying. He was aching to get in his plane. Damn, maybe I should just radio England and-- “Hey Cuba, get me another one.” He reached up with one hand and shook his empty glass.
“Dammit, America!” Cuba shouted, sliding a foaming glass of beer down the bar with all the force he could muster. America caught it nimbly in his hand, and Cuba cursed the aviator’s reflexes.
“Thanks for that!” America beamed, his million watt smile earning only a furious glare from the bartender. “Cheers!”
Cuba stomped over, stopping in front of America and leaning over the bar. “Pay your damn tab tonight, and don’t even think of sending your cousin in to do it in your place.”
“Aw, but Cuba…”
“It doesn’t matter to me how ace you are back on the base. I don’t give freebies to people just because they can fly a plane.”
“Yeah, yeah whatever,” America grumbled, swallowing another gulp of his beer. He had paused to stretch out his legs, when a tap on his shoulder startled him. He swiveled around, his eyes meeting a now fully clad and lipstick free France.
“Bonjour, America,” France said with a wave, pulling out a stool and sitting next to his captain.
“If you think I’m drunk enough to let you do anything, you’re wrong.” America frowned. “This is only my second beer, so don’t even.”
“Just your second? Then sadly, you are not drunk at all,” France mock sighed. “Although as much as I may wish otherwise, you have never been drunk enough to allow me to, ah, you know.” He winked.
“Shut up. What’re you here for?”
France shrugged, his expression turning serious. “I sympathize with your plight, America.” He rested his chin on his hands, rubbing the stubble that covered it. “They found the remains of another sky-pirate ship.”
“W-what?” America’s eyes grew large and he gripped his glass, panicked. “WHO?”
France cocked an eyebrow, confusion setting upon his features. “No idea. I just overheard it a few minutes ago. I--- “
But he couldn’t finish, because America had bolted out of his stool, so fast he knocked it onto the ground, where it clattered noisily. He shoved aside several customers, darting out of the door and barely hearing “HEY, GET BACK HERE AND PAY YOUR TAB!” from Cuba over the sound of his own wild heartbeat.
He ran toward the base, the pavement under his feet turning into grass as he made shortcuts through fields instead of sidewalk. The lights of the base served as a beacon, but they weren’t close enough. America had to get back to the hangar, had to radio England and make sure that--- oh God, they were already weakened. Dammit, I should have checked on them before now! “England is…” No, he refused to think about it, instead choosing to concentrate on not slipping in the damp grass. He cut across the lawn to the gate, quickly flashing the guard his military ID before being let inside.
America didn’t slow down, even as his breath caught and he grew winded. His hangar wasn’t far now, and when he made it there, he dashed inside and jumped into his cockpit as if his life depended on it.
The precious piece of paper, the one with England’s frequency on it, was in his pocket. He hadn’t thought about the fact that he stuck the note in his pants pocket every morning. It was just something he’d done. America felt as if it were safer to keep it close--- in case he needed to, well in case of a situation like right now. He vaguely recalled England telling him to memorize the frequency, and throw the paper out. “Oops?”
He flipped on his radio and, with a silent prayer, turned the frequency to the one England had instructed him to use.
“England? England are you there?” Silence. America gritted his teeth. “England, PLEASE answer me if you’re there. It’s me, America!”
A crackle on the other end of the radio, and then a rather bleary sounding “’Ello?”
“England!”
“Yes, yes it’s me, America. For Christ’s sake, don’t shout. It’s the middle of the bloody night.”
America exhaled, and nearly shouted with joy at the weight being removed from his chest. “You must be far away then. It’s only eleven p.m. here.”
“Oh, right, of course.”
The aviator cleared his throat. “E-England, are you all okay?”
“Quite. Prussia, Spain, and Romano are recovering well, and the ship repairs have been going perfectly.”
“That’s great news!”
“Why did you call me?” America could have sworn England’s voice was hesitant.
“I- uh…” He paused. “I heard that a pirate ship was taken down by the Kosmider. Had to make sure it wasn’t you.”
“Oh. Well. Thank you, America. We’re quite all right.”
America’s face brightened and he grinned. “It’s, it’s no problem! That’s what heroes do.” He paused. “I mean you are all wussy pirates and I didn’t know if you’d be able to handle--- “
“Shut up, you idiot.”
“Oh and I’m coming to see you.” This was out of America’s mouth before he had consciously registered what he was about to say, and he cursed under his breath. “I mean--- fuck.”
“You want to come?” And America must have been imagining that tinge of hope in England’s voice.
He rubbed his forehead, attempting to think of a reason for his outburst. “I uh er…” He began, “I talked to Romano’s brother. We know each other, actually. Did a mission together! Anyway, I told Italy that I’d check on his brother in person, so I’ve gotta come down there.” It was a terrible lie. He hadn’t told Italy that at all, but damn, it was the first idea that came to mind.
“I assure you that Romano’s fine.” England paused. “But I suppose, if you need to see for yourself, I can give you our coordinates.”
“All right! I’ll write them down right now.”
“No.”
“What?”
“When will you be leaving?”
America blinked and scratched his head. “Tomorrow morning, I guess? That’s maybe what, eight a.m. my time?”
“Noon here then. Radio me when you’re off the base. I don’t want to risk anyone overhearing our location. In fact, use the crank radio.”
“Geez, England, so secretive.”
“You know exactly why I am.” A moment of silence. “You should go. If you’re talking from the base, it’s best we keep this conversation short.”
America sighed. England was right. “’Kay, see you later.”
“See you then.” He heard England exhale. “Oh and America?”
“Yeah?”
“Good night.”
America flushed. “Good night to you too, England.” He clicked the radio off.
Leaning back in his cockpit, America sighed and ran his hand down his face. Had he actually just… told England he was coming to visit him? God, he didn’t think about what he was blurting out at all, did he? He frowned. He’d have to make something up, tell Japan and France to relay if asked that he was following a lead on the Kosmider or… something. Feeling cramped in the stationary plane, America stepped out of his cockpit.
Only to met with the firm, hard gaze of his cousin. Canada’s arms were crossed, and his lips had formed into a thin line.
“Canada!” America laughed nervously.
“It’s a good thing I fixed that radio, eh?” There was an edge to Canada’s voice, something unusual from his soft-spoken cousin.
“Oh yeah. You did awesome. I really appreciate it!”
“Don’t go.” Canada’s hands were now fisted at his side, and he was staring at his feet.
“What?”
“I was working late in my shop and saw you run in and… I heard your radio conversation.”
“Oh.” America paused. “Oh fuck.”
Canada snapped his head up. “Look, I don’t know what it is that’s so special about this man, but you can’t risk your job and your safety for him. It’s not safe out there! Please, just listen to me this once?”
America stepped forward, took Canada’s shoulders, and frowned. “I--- “ he paused. You what? “I want to go Canada. You’re not stopping me.”
The mechanic closed his eyes and sighed in exasperation. “I never can, can I?”
America let go of his cousin’s shoulders. “There’s no reason to. I can handle myself.”
“But…”
“Maybe I’ll come back with information on the Kosmider!” America countered.
“Maybe…” Canada replied meekly, his voice having lost that earlier hint of assertiveness. “Please, just think hard about it. A pirate ship! C’mon America. Whoever this England is, he isn’t worth---”
Canada was interrupted by very loud, very robust laughter, and the sound of someone padding out of the shadows toward them. America cursed as France made himself visible, his white bomber jacket slung over his shoulder and a smirk on his face.
“What’s so funny?” America snapped.
“You cannot be serious,” France said, still laughing. “I knew something had to be going on but… a pirate and... non, it is not the pirate part that is funny.” America was glaring daggers at him now. “ENGLAND? Captain Kirkland?”
The aviator’s jaw was set into a firm line. “You got a problem with that?”
“It is hilarious enough that you, America, the superstar hero, are off moonlighting as a passenger aboard a pirate ship…”
“It’s not like that!”
“I gather that this is not the first time you’ve visited Captain Kirkland?” France winked. America’s cheeks reddened. “Ah! It is worse than I thought. Your rosy cheeks are unmistakable.”
“It’s just… hot in here,” America argued lamely. Canada merely watched the exchange between the two.
“Oui. Especially when you are in love.”
At this, America’s face exploded, fierce red, and he spluttered. “SHUT UP!”
“I was merely joking.” France smirked. “I did not think that was the case, but you have proven me otherwise. I am aghast. I assumed no man or woman could ever fall for England.”
“I’m not!” He blinked. “What do you mean? How do you know him anyway?” America recalled England bringing up France the first night they’d met.
“It’s not a matter of knowing him,” France elucidated. “I have only met him a few times, all but one of those just in passing. I landed on his ship once, and he threw me off, rather violently I might add. But he has a reputation amongst those in the less, ah regimented parts of the world…” At this, Canada perked up. “Of being rather… unlikable. And of course, horrendously unattractive.” He sighed. “Eyebrows such as his, I had never seen and hope to never see again.”
America snorted. “Yeah ‘cuz you’re so much better.”
“Well I thought that was a given.” He placed one hand on America’s shoulder. “Even someone such as I would never assume to understand the strange ways in which love works.”
“Stop it France! That’s fucking ridiculous. We’re barely even friends.”
“Your cheeks tell me otherwise.” He poked America’s flushed face. “A lot makes sense now, certainly your sudden intense interest in defeating the Kosmider. And of course, your actions at the bar earlier.” He rested his elbow on America’s shoulder. “Canada, you’d best give it up and let him go.”
“But France!” Canada argued.
“It may be a good thing. You know why you frustrate me, America?” His tone switched to serious. “Because you are good at what you do, but you are also excruciatingly naïve and… you’ll be led around, have been led around, by those above you. America…” He paused, meeting his captain’s wide, confused and slightly angry, blue eyes. “You can become magnifique, if your mind becomes entirely your own. And if it takes England, the least suave pirate in the sky to do it then well…” He grinned cheekily. “I wish you a long and happy life together.”
America slapped France away and crossed his arms. “I’m going to bed! And when I leave tomorrow, tell my superiors if they ask, that I’ve gone to tackle a Kosmider lead.” He ran out of the hangar, eager to escape France’s embarrassing comments and perhaps even stranger, his somewhat roundabout praise.
