Ghost Stories

America shivered as they exited the theatre into night time London. It was still surprisingly busy for that time of night, black taxi-cabs still circling around Trafalgar Square looking out for fares they could pick up from outside of the many nightclubs. It was still warm even though it was after eleven o'clock, slight breezes cooling the air and blowing his hair out of place.

The smaller blonde huffed from next to him, leading the way out into the street towards the entrance to the Charing Cross tube station, wanting to get back home for the night after having to put up with the bumbling American for an entire evening.

They had spent the first part of their evening at one of the many restaurants around Leicester Square, America making excited comments about the play to England without actually telling him what they were going to see ("It has to be a surprise!")

He had continued to babble to England even after they had entered the theatre and taken their seats. He had nearly jumped for joy when they had turned the corner onto the street and spotted the entrance displaying the title "Ghost Stories" and the ominous text "You have been warned" in eerie blood-like writing. England hadn't taken this well, immediately predicting the obvious outcome of America dragging him to see a horror play. Indeed, the taller nation had only fallen silent after practically falling out of his seat on the balcony when a voice emitted from the loud speaker, booming out "mobile phones and cameras are strictly prohibited" in a deep, demanding voice.

And so the play had begun. Half of the audience (including America) had screamed at the opening as a blood-churning, wheezing scream sounded out around the speakers as the lights went out and a spot light centred on the character walking up the stage-left stairs, making his way to his position on the opposite side, glass of water in one hand, tape recorder in the other, starting the play on a lighter note as he dropped his pen on the floor.

Come the end of the play, after the audience had given the four cast members a hefty round of applause, the crowd had sifted out of the building and onto the streets of London, where England was now dragging America behind him.

"Honestly, why did you drag me to that play if you were going to jump at every single sound that you heard?" The Brit scoffed, dodging his way through the night time crowds in the tube station. "I'm sick of having to babysit you."

"But it was scary Iggy! I mean, did you see those bodies move?" America complained as they made their way down the escalator. "And I saw you jump a few times so don't get all moody with me."

England flushed, jerking his head around to glare quickly at the taller man, pulling him onto the correct platform. "Come on. I'm not having you getting lost down here again. Last time you ended up at King's Cross instead of Liverpool Street."

"Don't avoid the subject." America smirked, raising his eyebrows as the other chose not to look at him, instead checking the times on the overhead display. "You were scared, and you know it."

"Yes, there were some quite jumpy parts, I will admit." England scowled, "But I would not go as far as saying it was scary."

They moved closer to the edge of the platform as the train approached, quickly boarding and sitting on the first seats available. "Two stops then we have to change trains." England noted, glancing around the carriage.

"It gets pretty crowded down here even late at night, huh?" America commented, moving his legs further in as people squeezed onto the train before the doors closed.

"Yes, well we some good clubs here in London." England looked pleased with himself, shooting the other a quick smile, "Much better than those dumps that you have."

"Hey! Don't go insulting me when you're the one who won't admit to their fears." America pushed his glasses up his nose and stood with England as the train came to a halt at the station they needed.

"Central Line next." England called over his shoulder, quickly grabbing the younger nations wrist as he zigzagged his way through the crowd.

It wasn't long before they had boarded yet another train ("Five stops this time."), heading for Liverpool Street. This train was had even more people squeezed onto it, many of whom were obviously drunk from their night out. America commented on this ("Look, you're not the only Brit who can't handle their drink!"), only to receive a hard pinch in the side from England who muttered some profanities alongside.

Liverpool Street was almost as crowded as it was during the day. People with suitcases heading for London's different airports were weaving around trying to work out whether they were supposed to be getting a mainline train or the tube. Late night workers were making their commute home. And then there were the people like America and England who were making their way towards trains after an eventful night out.

England once again had a hold of America's wrist as he checked which platform their train was leaving from and at what time. "Platform twelve, ten minutes." He said briefly, "Come on."

They took their seats on the almost empty train after having to run most of the way up the platform to find a carriage that was actually open as one of the station conductors walked in the opposite direction, locking the compartments that would be left at the station. "We should be back at around quarter past midnight, I reckon." England sighed, slumping back in the chair, America to his right.

"You can let go now, you know." America suddenly spoke up, making England jump. "Not that I mind, of course." The taller nation lifted his slightly larger hand, indicated that England was still holding onto it even after boarding the train.

"Ah! Sorry." England snatched his hand away, the surprise evident on his features.

"You could've carried on holding it if you'd wanted." America grinned, leaning his head over onto England's, nuzzling into his messy blonde hair and closing his eyes. "I mean, you were squeezing my hand pretty hard during the play."

"Shut up, git." England muttered back, leaning into the other blonde's touch as an arm slid around his back.

"So you'll admit that it was scary?"

"Will you drop it if I say yes?"

"Yup."

"Fine then." England sighed, his frown lessening.

America chuckled, squeezing the other briefly before pulling him closer into a half-hug. "See? Now wasn't that easy?" He kissed the top of England's head quickly before leaning back onto it.

"Whatever." England yawned, resting his head on the younger nation's shoulder, turning his attention to the dark world that was flashing past the speeding train. "You were still worse." America could feel England smiling and his eyes close.

"Hey, don't go to sleep!" A problem quickly arose in his mind. "I don't know where we need to get off."

"I'm not going to sleep, idiot." England hissed back. "Jesus, I wish you'd learn how to read the atmosphere one of these days. It's getting ridiculous."

America laughed under his breath, noting that England's words had no bite to them. He titled the older nation's head up so that he could see those emerald green eyes, smiling when they met his own sky blue ones. He ran his thumb over one of the other's rather large eyebrows, noticing them twitch down briefly.

"Get off you pillock." England tried to jerk away, only to be held firmly in place by America's stronger hold, "Not in public."

"There's practically no one else around." America teased, poking the smaller nation's nose and leaning in to touch their lips together.

It was a sweet kiss. Light, but no less loving than one of their deeper moments. America's hand stroked England's cheek, feeling the heat from the blush that had crept over his face.

"Promise you won't go to sleep before me tonight?" He said finally, ending the kiss.

"I'm not promising anything, git." England chuckled, lowering his head back to rest on the other's shoulder, waiting for the train to reach their station.

[Notes: I had to right this after going to see the play Ghost Stories in the theatre yesterday with a couple of friends. It was the scariest thing I have ever seen! Seriouslu, I spent half the play with my hands over my ears not watching the stage - I was that scared. (And then I couldn't sleep last night... .
I got the image of America dragging England to go and see it and then getting scared (heh... ^^;;)
But yeah, the stuff that happens in this is pretty much what me and my friends did, ate at Leicester Square, got the tube to Liverpool Street, etc. (everything but the fluff on the train... lol)
I didn't put in any spoilers for the play, I don't want to think about its content anymore. .]