Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and I'm making no money from this!

A/N: Written for a prompt on the 'Hetalia Kink Meme' (on Livejournal). Credit for the idea goes to the anonymous poster! I'm posting this publically so I feel more obligated to finish _;… Historical inaccuracies!

A Swashbuckling Tale

"OK! Looking good!"

"Generator is fully powered. We're a go, boys."

"Load it up!"

America grinned as he listened to the positive confirmations of his scientists that today's mission was so far going off without a hitch. The tall blond glanced up at the sun, shielding his eyes briefly from the bright glare. 'Definitely looks good!' US turned and took long strides through the hot sand towards the huge launch pad he had built specifically for this top secret mission.

He and his select crew had chosen to fly out to one of the Virgin Islands he owned in the Caribbean for the first tests of something he liked to call OPERATION: H.G. WELLS.

US smiled smugly as he finally came up to the tarmac and beheld his latest technological revolutionary, ground-breaking innovation.

"The Time Machine is just begging to be tested, sir." A dark-skinned technician commented with a matching grin, saluting his country.

"Consider that Time Machine killed, private!" USA replied confidently, stars shining and fist cocked like a true hero as he stood in front of the machine. His scientists and technicians shouted their affirmations and attended their stations on the launch pad.

USA rubbed his hands in glee as he observed the compact, polished titanium and super plastic vehicle. It was like something out of a sci-fi book and movie! 'Actually…' the blond man idly scratched at his chin. Now that he thought about it, he guessed he remembered listening to UK tell him stories of crazy time-travelling machines a while ago.

'Oh so THAT'S where the idea came from. Oh well!' America shrugged and adjusted his glasses, blue eyes full of resolve. He was totally going to improve on what UK had dreamed up behind those thick eyebrows.

"Time to make some history." USA kissed his dogtag for good luck and jumped into the cockpit. The dome closed with a hiss and the switch was cranked, allowing the countdown to commence.

It was a perfectly clear day, his time machine was perfect, his resolve was true – could conditions be any better?? America's chest swelled with immense self pride. Well naw of course they couldn't – HE had done it, after all.

Actually, such a perfect mission called for some celebration!

'5…4…' The computerized voice counted as the American hastily rummaged around in his jacket pocket.

"Ahhh… now that's what I'm lovin'!" USA declared, unwrapping the hamburger he had originally been planning to save for the future (when he got there).

'2…'

America took a huge bite of the sandwich, and nearly choked when a wad of his new favourite chipotle sauce fell into the control board, sending sparks everywhere.

'1…'

The beach scenery was pulled back like a wrapping paper to reveal psychedelic lights.

"YEEEARGHHHH!" USA yelled as the time machine began tumbling around like a fumbled football. America was nearly out of it when the sudden barrage just as abruptly came to a halt. The machine fell over on its side with a crash.

A few minutes later the hatch opened sluggishly and America groaned, crawling out. His hands met… sand?

"What the?" USA looked up and saw sand and turf, but no sign of his huge tarmac or military base. "Okay maybe I landed on my own private beach." USA said out loud, unnerved by how alone he was.

Strange. Just the crashing of waves, rustling palms and…

There! The nation started off towards the other end of the beach. He was sure he had heard laughing. They were celebrating without him!

"Hey~!" USA shouted with happiness, jogging over a hill and spotting the group of people in the distance. "Everyone! I'm OK, and it was a success!!"

The closer he got, the more USA got upset as he realized these people were only actors and why hadn't anyone told him about the forth Pirates of the Caribbean movie?!

Suddenly, something whizzed by his cheek and America rolled, swiftly pulling his heavy duty army knife from his boot, arm rushing up to block the arriving sword strike – wait. Sword strike?

Metal clashed and USA put all his strength against holding off the large and wicked looking sword that had been coming for him.

Teeth gritting, America threw the terrorist off of him. "Just who the hell do you think you are!?"

Frowning blue eyes whirled around and met rebellious green ones framed by… thick… eyebrows?

"…UK?" USA blurted, before something bumped the back of his head hard, and everything went black.

It was hours later when something cold and wet splashed against America's face and he came to consciousness with a sputter.

'Wha…water!'

The blue-eyed man snapped his eyes open, and then blinked at the unexpected blurriness. His face felt strangely naked. 'Guess I lost my glasses.' USA thought, squinting to vainly see who had him captive.

He was on the floor, hands tied behind him with rough rope as his back met an uncomfortably hard wooden pole. The room rocked slightly and everything smelt like sea air. 'What is this, a boat?'

He heard the creak of an old chair and the thudding of boots taking leisurely steps towards him. America tensed and grimaced as he realized he was securely bound.

A fuzzy shape appeared suddenly in front of him and he felt the familiar frames of his glasses being slipped onto his face, fingers brushing his ears.

The world swam into focus and the captured nation looked up to see an equally familiar one.

"UK." USA said, raising an eyebrow and struggling not to laugh.

The shorter man was dressed in full waistcoat and breeches, a flaring crimson velvet jacket on top of a silken white shirt. The best part was that the old fogey was staring at him so seriously from under a large hat with plumes sticking from it.

America couldn't really figure this one out. Was UK having one of his costume parties again, this time role-playing or something?

That train of thought was derailed when the other man bent one knee and knelt to scrutinize the nation in front of him as if he had never seen him before. "What is this 'You-Kay' you keep uttering, fairy?"

"Fairy? Hey if anyone it's you–" America stopped his protest when that damnable sword came forward from the other nation's hilt towards his neck.

"What manner of clothing is this?" Britain asked, thick eyebrows frowning. The sharp sword tip traced America's chest, a knick in the blade catching and pulling the fabric of his black army issue t-shirt.

USA's breath came faster as electric green eyes looked him up and down. The sword went lower to lift the edge of his jacket and UK came closer to his prisoner, studying his face without any recognition.

'What..What the hell!' America was startled to find himself becoming hot at the close proximity. He sweat in uneasiness. Sure he was fond of UK. He even… well… Never mind that. But he had never thought of the one who had practically sired him as… sexy before.

"What are you, knave!" UK seemed to be getting impatient. "Vampire? Werewolf?"

USA nearly snorted. UK and his fantasies again. The sword traced more closely on his bare stomach and the blond man spoke up. "Wait wait wait…" America breathed raggedly and tried to bow back to escape the strangely titillating sensations. "You know I'm not any of those things!"

UK finally adopted a shrewd expression.

"You were after my booty, weren't you?"

End Part 1

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