AN: Because I love UK-fem!US

Arthur woke to the sound of waves crashing against a sandy beach, tropical birds chirping in the trees, and the brightest sunset he'd ever seen.

He yawned and rolled over on his side, pulling the covers up higher so he didn't get co– wait. Why was it so bloody warm?

He sat up, blinking his eyes open, and proceeded to look around the room like a fool once he finally realized he wasn't in his own house. Forget his own house, this wasn't even his own country!

Where in the world am I? And when did I get here?

He ran a hand through his hair and down his face before throwing off the blankets and standing up.

The room was beautiful, walls painted yellow with white trim, simple white oak bed (with two matching nightstands), a light yellow bedspread and a mountain of pillows, paintings of colorful birds and other such tropical things, various decorations adorning the rest of the room. Two white curtains blowing in the wind caught his eye and upon closer inspection, they appeared to be hiding two wooden French doors which lead out to a small balcony with an absolutely gorgeous view of... somewhere. He should probably get back to finding out where he was, exactly, but that could wait for later. He looked around the room some more before his eyes landed on a folded paper on one of the nightstands.

Arthur, it said.

Yay, you're finally awake! You were so tired at the airport last night, you fell asleep in the car and I had to carry you to your bed! It was so cute :) But, yeah, make yourself at home! Oh! I know! I'll teach you how to surf later! You'll love it! :D

-Ally

Ah.

Right. Now it all came back to him.

Ally had called him about a week ago, telling him that he just had to go somewhere completely and totally awesome with her, as she had put it. So Arthur had agreed. Why did he agree, you might ask? He didn't really know, himself. This always happened. Every time she asked something of him, no matter what it was, he'd end up doing it. He never knew why (though France always seemed to know, often providing detailed explanations for him which he would always fervently deny because they weren't true. Really.).

So he'd met her in the airport in Washington D.C. and they'd caught a flight from there to god-knows-where (she'd never actually told him where they were going, only told him to pack for warm weather and whatever you do, don't forget your bathing suit!)

And that's where he found himself now, in Hawaii, standing in what he assumed was one of the many rooms in America's house.

-x-x-x-

Once he'd gotten dressed – a white collared shirt, green sweater vest (his favorite one), dark brown dress pants and brown dress shoes – he left the room, walking out into a long hallway lined with doors that opened up into a living room, the kitchen on the far side of the room, separated by a half-wall. He passed by a small coffee table behind the couch with a number of things on it, including a picture of America in a two-piece American flag swimsuit with one arm around a large white surfboard with a large red flower on the front end of it, the other arm bent, hand on her hip. She was smiling as brightly as ever.

Just as he moved to examine the other pictures lying on the table, he heard a strange sound. It sounded almost like someone playing a guitar, yet not quite.

He followed the sound (too curious for his own good, sometimes) out the house, across the wooden deck and out onto the sand and beach grass, walking around the corner of the house only to find the source of the sound: America laying in a hammock hung from the trunks of two palm trees, rocking back and forth slowly. She was wearing that same two-piece swimsuit that she wore in the picture, except now, instead of a surfboard, she held a small guitar, looking to her left out over the ocean.

When he'd first heard the sounds from inside, it didn't sound like she was playing any song in particular, but now it seemed she'd settled on one, softy strumming the thick strings and quietly (but now so quietly that he couldn't hear from where he was standing at the corner of the house) reciting the lyrics in a language foreign to his ears:

Ha'aheo ka ua i na pali

Ke nihi a'e la i ka nahele,

E hahai ana paha i ka liko,

Pua 'ahihi lehua o uka.

He was amazed at what a surprisingly sweet singing voice America had. It was so different than her excited chatter, foreign words now rolling off her tongue so gently it was as though she was afraid of someone hearing her. He took a few steps toward the hammock, trying to hear over the waves nearby.

Aloha 'oe, aloha 'oe

E ke onaona noho i ka lipo,

A fond embrace a ho'i a'e au,

Until we meet again.

Now that sounded familiar. He still couldn't place it though. He took a few more careful steps towards her.

'O ka hali'a aloha i hiki mai,

Ke hone a'e nei kuyu manawa,

'O 'oe no ka'u ipo alo – Arthur!

She gave a start when she saw him, throwing herself off balance and, in turn, sent the hammock flying. She fell to the ground on her arm, ukulele landing safely in the sand a few feet away after being launched in the air. In the process, Arthur was knocked in the chin rather roughly by the wooden end of the hammock, sending him to the ground, as well.

Whoops, looks like he wasn't as stealthy as he'd thought he was...

Ally began to laugh as she rolled over onto her back, looking over at Arthur, who was now holding his chin in agony.

"Ugh, what's so bloody funny?"

She didn't answer, only shook her head and continued to laugh, now clutching her stomach as her face began to turn the slightest bit pink, blue eyes clenched shut.

He could feel a small smile creep onto his own face, though he had no idea why. He seemed to forget the pain in his chin as he watched her laugh, now beginning to do the same.

After a minute or two, the laughing died down, leaving her staring through the hammock above her at the darkening sky and him staring at her.

"So what were you singing about?"

She looked over at him, "Oh, um. Well, it's this song about... like..." She looked up again, then over to where her ukulele was still sitting in the sand. "Hows about I just play the English version for you?"

He laughed fondly at her, "I'd love that."

She got up, knocking the hammock out of her face as she crawled out from under it, and retrieved her ukulele. When she sat on the hammock again, she looked over to Arthur, motioning for him to join her. He did (nervously).

They laid back, shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the stars, Arthur's hands folded on his stomach and Ally's around the ukulele on her own stomach.

Proudly swept the rain by the cliffs

As on it glided through the trees,

Still following ever the "liko,"

The Ahihi Lehua of the valley.

She turned her head to Arthur, "I like to sing the chorus in the original language, just by the way" She continued, head turning back to the sky.

Aloha 'oe, aloha 'oe

E ke onaona noho i ka lipo,

A fond embrace a ho'i a'e au,

Until we meet again.

Thus sweet memories come back to me,

Bringing fresh remembrance of the past,

Dearest, one, yes, thou art mine own,

From thee, true love shall never depart.

I have seen and watched thy loveliness,

Thou sweet Rose of Maunawili,

And 'tis there the birds oft love to dwell

And sip the honey from thy lips.

They turned their heads to each other simultaneously, Arthur's cheeks turning slightly red, but he smiled fondly at her anyway.

"So? What do you think?"

"Beautiful."