A/N: Um, thank you for taking the time to read this, and sorry for its horrid-ness. I always get so embarassed when I post things I've written... Well I hope you get any enjoyment you can from this, and sorry for the angst.

Disclaimer: APH? Mine? Ra, I wish.

The founding fathers had said it themselves, and who was America to disobey them? After all, they were the ones who helped him become his own country.

"Don't get to close to any European power" the hazy memory of Jefferson came up, unbidden.

"Any power, for that matter," the equally hazy Franklin added. Which America always found odd, wasn't it Franklin who was always with France? Even more so than when he was with America.

But he was an impressionable youth, and the founding fathers left a mark on America that he would not soon forget. And if they said stay away, he would do so, unquestioningly.

Even when his heart hurt a little bit every time he had to remind himself that Lithuania and France and Italy and China and England—oh god, England—didn't really mean anything to him.

Couldn't mean anything to him.

So he would put on the glasses that he didn't need, with the prescription that made everyone just fuzzy enough so they weren't really there, and would go out into the world. He would go wherever he was needed—be it a UN meeting or a conflict his government was getting involved in—and be the hero.

Because heroes didn't need anybody.

Heroes were able to do everything themselves, only passing through the lives of the people they saved; maybe having a love interest here or there, but even then a hero wasn't clouded by emotion.

Washington arose in America's mind, he was a true hero, even being treated like a god by some early Americans. When Jefferson and Franklin had told him that, Washington had stayed silent, a slight frown on his features (the other's had gone hazy with time, but America knew that no matter how long he lived, Washington would always be clear as day). America hadn't understood why Washington hadn't talked if he had something to say, and he still didn't.

It's not as though the advice was bad or anything.

It had helped America through many a struggle, Vietnam, WWI and II, Korea, the Cold War and the Revolution—especially the Revolution.

Because when he didn't care about others, it was easier to ignore the pain in his chest when he bombed Japan, when he allowed France to make impossible demands on Germany in the Treaty of Versailles, when he watched England desperately ask where he went wrong in raising the small America that would make him turn on England so.

So he'd grin like it was nothing, because that's all it was.

At least, that's all it was supposed to be

"Sorry it took so long," America's new boss said as he slid into the booth seat across from him, putting the tray he carried in the middle to the table.

"No prob'" America smiled broadly, not missing a beat, and vaguely wondered if when Franklin had said 'any power' that included his own.

His boss gave him a long, hard look (America smiled cluelessly in return) before grabbing his salad from the tray and pushing America's order of fries, large coke and a burger closer to the country.

"You know," his boss said after a few minuets, stabbing his plastic fork into iceberg lettuce, "you don't have to isolate yourself, you are allowed to be friends with the other countries."

America froze mid-bite, staring blankly at his boss. Bosses weren't supposed to act like this. They were supposed to tell him what they wanted done; maybe asking for America's opinion or advice like Lincoln or Kennedy, but they definitely weren't supposed to bother with the country-person. The country side, certainly, but not the actual person side to whatever it was that America was. The silence stretched on and America's boss started talking again, when it was apparent America wouldn't.

"England's worried about you," his boss quirked a smile, "and I'm not talking about the old guy in parliament."

America lowered his burger, "and how would you know that?" he asked, the nonchalant tone he was going for ruined by the quiver in his voice. Very un-hero like, America, he chided himself; not noticing the un-hero like tears gathering at the corners of his eyes at the though that maybe someone did care that he didn't care, that maybe England cared.

His boss didn't point it out as he looked directly at the nation and smiled; "a little fairy told me." America gave a short accented 'ha!', thinking that that was so like England. America pulled off his glasses that he didn't need as the tears he didn't notice rolled down his face. Wet laughter shook his frame, and America couldn't quite tell why he was laughing at all. He put his head in his arms on the table, occasionally giving a laugh.

"ahem!" came from slightly behind the booth America and his boss sat in. America gave a glance at said boss, not lifting his head from the table, who simply munched on his salad, looking at whoever it was that was behind America. America turned his head more (still not lifting it from table level) to see England looking very out of his element in the fast food restraint. He was pointedly looking away from America, his arms crossed.

But then England glanced at him and found something that made his glance stay, "Are you… crying?" England asked very much puzzled by the idea of America earnestly crying, "Are you okay?"

Seeing England clearly, for the first time in a long time, America could really take him in, and see the actual concern and worry in those green eyes. He gave a smile, the truest one he could remember since becoming independent and laughed.

"I guess I am" he answered still smiling as he sat up and put a finger to his cheek and felt the wetness there.

"Are you alright? What happened?" England fussed, leaning over America worriedly, making the younger nation's smile widen even more. America turned in the booth to face England fully and America's boss found something very interesting in his salad to look at as America leaned up and gave England a chaste kiss.

England's face was beat red as America stood up, holding the other nation's hand.

"Consider next time my treat." America said to his boss, who simply raised his fork and gave a small nod without looking at the two countries; but he couldn't hide the pleased smile on his face.

America smiled sincerely ignoring the sputtered indignations England was giving about their intertwined hands; although he was doing nothing to pull his away, "thank you." America all but whispered to this new boss; who was now right up there with Washington. America turned and walked out with England, lifting their connected hands and kissing England's (much to the country's chagrin) as the door swung closed behind them.

"Change isn't just in the slogan" his boss gave a half smile to no one as he stood, grabbing the glasses from where America left them.

Now; I really need to figure out what kind of dog to get the girls… was the president's last thought as he exited the building.

A/N: I was going to add Washington saying something very profound at the end, but it just didn't work out that way. *shrug* on a side note, I love the idea of Obama and America just chillin' at a McDonalds talking about serious country stuff.

well, reviews are love, so...