AN: Hey people! This is a collaboration fanfic between JHO14 and I, Xnasha Minstrel.

WARNINGS! SPOILERS FOR BASICLLY THE END OF THE NEW CAPTAIN AMERICA MOVIE!THAT'S LIKE, EVERYTHING, PEOPLE!

Oh yeah, and as long as you know who the Allies and the Axis are, your okay for Hetalia.

If you don't know them, why are you searching for a fanfic under these filters?

This is a three-shot: the first is during WWII, the second is right after Ol'Cap wakes up from state of hibernation, and the third is when Steve finally gets the truth.

Enjoy pplz!

Chapter 1 : In Which Drunk Drinking Partners Are No Fun

"TO THE CAPTAIN!"

The team raised their whiskey glasses, clinking them together. Everyone drained the glasses, all of them wincing a bit at the burn.

*SEVERAL MORE DRINKS LATER*

Bucky slung his arm around Steve. "Hey Stevie, mmhh…why's the room spinning? D…de lightsh are shipinning…"Steve grimaced at the stench of alcohol wafting in waves off his best friend. "You're drunk, Bucky. I'll help you get back…"

"Whysh? Ther…there are preety ladies around…ohhh… why's there a danshing tomato?"

Bracing his weight around the wasted man, Steve helped him walk out of the bar, letting the man take a breath of fresh air. Behind them, the other team members were still slumped around the table, stone drunk and unconscious, except the Asian guy, Jim, who was still swaying rather precariously with a glass of whiskey threatening to spill all over the wooden tabletop.

"I…I'm fine…I'm finnnnneeeeee…" With a resounding thud, Jim hit the floor.

Steve sighed. Because of the serum and its metabolism-changing effects, he can no longer drown his worries in alcohol like other men.

He set his very drunk friend down on the worn steps of the bar. Suddenly, he realized he had dropped his friend on top of someone who was already unconscious on steps. The man grunted, thick eyebrows almost obscuring the glazed green eyes.

"Wha' tha bloody hell?"

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA! IGGY YOU'RE ALL DRUNK!BWAHAHAHA!"

"Shu…shut up, stoopid Alfie…you wanker!" The man with the impossibly big eyebrows attempted to swat at the other blond's head. The other just dodged and laughed even harder. "YOU WERE SHO MUCH CUTER WHEN YOU WERE SHMALLER! THEN YOU HAD TO GO AND LEAVE ME!" From there on the man's words disintegrated into gibberish, until he finally passed out.

Steve settled Bucky into a more comfortable position on the stairs, his friend already passed out and snoring. He glanced at the other drunken man. "Excuse me sir, but is he alright?"

The blond with glasses grinned widely and laughed. "Oh, don't worry about it. He always gets like this when he's drunk." He jerked his thumb towards the other man who, judging by his uniform and the strap across it, was a British officer. "The drunk dude over there is my friend, Arthur Kirkland. I'm the hero, Alfred F. Jones! I'm awesomely American." Alfred was like a child in his enthusiasm, making a small smile appear on Steve's lips. "So you're Captain Steve Rogers, huh? Otherwise known as 'Captain America'? Wow, I expected you to be totally louder! I didn't even notice you in the bar!"

Steve winced. He was still slightly unfamiliar with being recognized as a former propaganda icon. "Yeah, that's me. So, what are you doing at this bar? Just getting drunk?"

Alfred laughed. "Yeah, for some reason, Iggy dragged me out to come drinking right after the Allied Nations meeting! I totally don't get that guy, even though I've known him since forever!"

"People like that are in my life too. Like my friend Bucky, I've known him since forever but I can't make heads or tails of him sometimes."

"Ahaha, so it is."

It was silent for a while, the only sounds being drunken snoring coming from two very drunk people.

"Hey, have you ever thought about what you'll do after this war is over?"

He turned his head to look at Alfred. The other man was staring up at the sky, eyes suddenly deep in thought. He turned his head again. "Any ideas?"

To tell the truth, he wasn't expecting a question like this. "Well, if I make it through this war alive, I would at least like to go dancing with a girl."

"Any girl in particular you fancy?"

An image of an extremely attractive British officer appeared in his mind's eye. "You could say that."

"Aha, I thought so. You seem like that sort of person."

"What about you? What are your plans for the rest of your life after this war?"

Alfred just smiled mysteriously. "Oh, I'll just be doing what I always do throughout the years: help my boss, get through tons and tons of paperwork, hanging out with my brother."

"That sounds so peaceful. I joined this war to help my country; I hope I made the right choice."

"I'm sure your country is grateful for what you're doing." Alfred stood up. "I have to get Iggy back to his house before he wakes up, being all doom and gloom from all the recent crap. He'll have a wicked hangover when he wakes up."

Bracing Arthur over his shoulder much like how he was supporting Bucky out earlier, Alfred walked in front of the steps. Just as he was about to leave, he turned his head back to the two men still on the porch.

For just a moment, the other man's cerulean blue eyes flashed and something familiar yet alien came over them. His smile seemed to get...older, almost. "America thanks you, Steve Rogers."

With that, the peculiar blond man with blue eyes and his drunken friend disappeared into the night, leaving a national superhero and his drunken friend behind on the wooden steps of a bar in London, wondering.