We Say It The Same Way

By AnimeDutchess

A/N: Dude. Hetalia rocks. It…it's just made of win. I'm working on a longer, more serious oneshot for it, but I really wanted something out there that was…shorter. It'll take me a bit to write that one, yah know.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. It's my first Hetalia fic, so…keep an open mind!

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Disclaimer: Nah, I don't own Hetalia. If I did, I would have abducted Alfred already! And no, not in the terrorist sense.

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It had happened in an instant. One moment, America was chatting with him, smiling, eager, and for once, they weren't at each other's throats. Then, suddenly, his bespectacled eyes had locked on something, and went dark. Every time England tried to start the conversation up again, America would grunt, as if he was listening, but his eyes would move, as if following something in the air.

If there was one thing England hated, it was blatancy.

"Bloody hell, America! If you aren't going to even pay attention, why are you pretending?"

"Hu-what?" Immediately, America snapped out of it, and brought his clear blue eyes to meet England's murky green ones. "Oh, I'm sorry, I…" Before he could explain himself, however, his face changed. It was like he suddenly realized something very important.

"Oh, shit…" His voice was weak. England raised a bushy eyebrow in confusion.

"What?"

"…I lost track of IIIIT!!!!" As usual, America was loud and extravagant, and…a bit of a fraidy-cat. That sounds strange; the Great Hero America being afraid of things, but it was true. England knew from experience. He's afraid of things he can't see, and that he can't explain, and…

"THERE'S A BEE IN YOUR KITCHEN, ENGLAAAAND!!"

"Oh, good God…" England sighed as America scrambled out of his kitchen, letting the wooden chair he'd been sitting in fall to the floor with a clatter. "It's just a bee. It's not going to kill you."

"YES IT WILLLLL!" America yelled from somewhere else in the house, probably hiding under a blanket and shaking. Letting out another sigh, England looked around for the bee.

"Come on, come on…" He muttered to himself, a little agitated. "I can't be looking around for a blasted insect all day…hn?"

There it was, a…rather large, fearsome-looking insect, resting on the window sill, looking at England, as if expecting him to open the window. He sighed, leaning over and doing so, watching the bug zip away.

"I didn't expect it to be that big…"

"That's what she said!"

"You can make ridiculous jokes, but you can't have the balls to stay in the room with a bee?"

"DIDN'T YOU SEE HOW FREAKIN' FREAKY IT WAS?!?"

Once again, a sigh emerged from England, and he walked out of the kitchen, not surprised to see America in his living room, completely wrapped in a blanket, on the couch, shuddering. He peeked out when he heard England's footsteps, and – For the love of every Queen of England, could he not give me that 'wounded-dog' look? – his face was pale-ish.

"Oh, God, it was gonna eat us. Thank you, England…" America mumbled, clutching the blanket closer. England rolled his eyes.

"Now that it's gone, I'm sure it would be fine if you came out from under there."

"…" America pouted. "No."

Oh, so we're playing that game, are we? Fine…

England gave him a soft smile, and walked over to the couch, sitting next to the blanket-covered mound of American and petting his head.

"Come on, Bab; come out from under there…" He coaxed. America's expression soured.

"Don't use that stupid nickname on me! I'm not a little kid!"

"But Bab, you're acting like one…" England's smile turned into a smirk, and his eyes were almost sad. He hadn't used that name on America in a long time…but hey, anything to rile him up, right?

"I am not!" America squirmed under his touch. "And stop using your crazy British words on me! No one can understand them!" England's eyes narrowed. Oh, it's on, you idiot.

"Well, maybe if your brain wasn't made of hamburger meat-"

"Don't you start with that! Why don't you pull that shilalie outta your ass-"

"That's Irish, you bloody plonker-"

"See? See? More crazy British words!"

"I just want you to come out from under there!"

"Well, why didn't you just ask?!?"

"Because you were being difficult!"

"Then why are we yelling?!?"

"I don't KNOW!"

Then they stopped. All England could hear was their breathing, and all he could feel was the blood pumping so hard that even his ears felt it, and his fingers were still tangled in tawny locks, why hadn't he taken his hand back yet? And –

The blanket thrown around his shoulders caught him off-guard.

"…A-America?" He blinked, looking up, damning that inch of height-difference, because it made everything so difficult. The younger one just smiled at him, holding him tightly with one arm that had somehow snaked around England's middle when he wasn't looking.

He continued to stare at America, waiting for an explanation, but it never came, because eventually, he sighed one last time, and leaned on the younger one's chest, and fell asleep, because everyone needed an impromptu cuddle-session once in a while, right? And America had stared back, and after watching England sleep, he too drifted off to the land of dreams.

What did this mean for them? What did this make their relationship? To this day, neither of them knows. America considers it is own little triumph towards his ultimate goal of getting England to lighten up, while the older one treasures it as the only memory he has of America that doesn't make him want to get piss drunk in anger or sadness…

Because by God, did it make no sense, and for their own reasons, that moment puts a smile on their faces.

Fin

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A/N: XD It started out as funny crack, and ended as philosophical fluff. Go figure.

I wrote it because I saw a big, freaky looking wasp…thing…try to crawl into my air conditioner, and since I'm at my desk, right under it, and have a terrible fear of buzzing insects, you could imagine a pale-faced brunette girl, awaiting her imminent doom…thank goodness it didn't get in.

America's afraid of ghosts and scary movies and such, but I thought him not liking bugs either would be kinda cute.

'That's what she said' is probably the biggest joke among me and my friends. I would think that lots of Americans our age use the joke, and just imagining Alfred saying it makes me want to laugh…

'Bab' is short for 'babby', a word used in the Midlands of England. 'Babby' means baby, and 'Bab' is a term of endearment, shortened from 'babby'. I figured England would say things like that when America was young, and he'd know lots of different English terms…

A shilalie is an Irish walking stick type-thing. America's a bit…eh…well, he'd probably not consider the difference since Ireland and England are in the same area. I mean, he doesn't even know where Japan is.

'Plonker' means idiot. No explanation needed.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this! I think I'll make this into a series of USxUK drabbles… what do you think? Please review me! - AnimeDutchess