Hetalia + Maximum Ride = something I do not own ;w;

We were all pretty much silent, save for the loud chewing and spewing noises as we munched on our grub.

All the while, despite our dead silence, Alfred continued to smile like a kid on Christmas. "And you're all Americans too, aren't ya? I can feel it in here!" The male pointed a curt, lightly tanned finger towards his heart, chest puffin' up real big.

That same finger then pointed towards us. "I know all your names, too! You're Angel, Nudge, Gazzy, Iggy, Maximum Ride—" He paused his declaration briefly, grinning. "And the shy lil' sweetheart over here is Fang!"

I had to forcefully stifle a snicker under my palm as Alfred then suddenly wrapped his arms around a not so poker-faced, very disturbed looking Fang, yanking him into a bone-crushing hug. We were all crying bucketloads of tears, trying to hide our boisterous laughter.

'Shy lil sweetheart' — oh god, now that's going to be sticking around for a while. Because let's be honest, Fang is far from any of those things. Really far.

"Bloody hell, where'd he come from?" England exclaimed, jaw dropped low, as he eyed Fang with a shocked expression. Obviously, the country didn't even notice him up until now. The power of blending in.

"Dude, my citizen was there for like, the whole time!" the younger nation shot back, looking incredulious. "Honestly Engand, you really gotta get yourself some glasses or somethin'."

"Wait so, does this mean that you're really America—?" Gazzy asked, eyes wide and looking real stupendified —is that even a word?— at the whole idea. His mouth seemed permenantly fixed in a large, awe-struck grin, showing off several missing baby teeth. (Some of which got loose and fell out the good old fashioned tooth wigglin' way, others having been knocked out by the carnivorous horrors known as Erasers.)

The fellow blonde, turning to him, grinned back and reached over to give the Gasman a vigorous hair ruffling. "Yup, I really am, sport!"

"Whoa," Gazzy sucked in a breath.

Nudge's mouth was running at 100 mph, an amazed glint in her eyes. "America, huh? Wow! That's like, super duper cool. Though, I gotta admit, I kind of expected an Uncle Sam type of guy, y'know? Like, white beard, stars 'n stripes top hat, geezer suit, the whole deal."

"I have to agree with Nudge on that one," Angel mused, stating. "No offense or anything Mr. America, but you do kinda look really young."

What Alfred looked like to me was that he was sucking all their attention up like a sponge. The man grinned wide with charm. "Well, I am quite the dashing man, I gotta say!" he chirped loudly. "I age well, like wine 'n cheese! ...Unlike ol' Caterpiller Brows over here." America snickered and poked a thumb in England's direction, who sputtered a little and glared at him.

"I do not look that old!" he said defensively.

"I dunno man," America said with a cheeky grin. "I spy a couple grey hairs startin' to pop up..."

"Don't forget the wrinkles," I added loudly.

"And flabby boobs!" Iggy hollered from somewhere in the background.

England's face was heated. "I most certainly do not have flabby..." he stopped himself from saying the word, blushing prominently. "You shouldn't even be saying such things, anyhow! I'm a man, you git!"

"Oh yes, 'e most certainly is." A voice purred from behind him, French-accent smooth as butter. We all glanced towards the man sauntering towards us, pale blonde hair elegantly styled and a sly smirk on his lips. "Angleterre~."

The other flushed a bright red, gesturing wildly towards our little group with a slight look of disgust on his face. "There are children here, you dirty old frog!"

His blues blinked several times, before the French dude's attention was transferred towards us. "Oh, ah, excuse moi," he laughed it off, smile warmer and less so perverted, as he did a slight bow. "Bonjour, petits. I am France, but that should be obvious, non?"

"ZOMG," Nudge squealed, immediately ripping herself from her seat. "Your hair is gorgeous!" Her mocha hands (somewhat sticky with barbecue sauce) started assaulting the silky, waved blonde locks, and France shrieked.

"Non, non! Do not touch!" he exclaimed shrilly, slapping her fingers away. "Zhis is professionally done!"

"Why frog, isn't that rather rude of you," snickered England while the other was in a desperate, Nudge-induced frenzy, trying to fix his newly-wrecked 'do. "The girl was merely giving you a compliment."

"My 'air is ruined!"

"Sorry," Nudge squeaked with a sheepish sort of grin. "Couldn't help myself."

France tossed a dark, disapproving look in her direction. "Zhen next time, make sure you do." He half-pouted, fluffing the somewhat stringy locks. "My poor 'air..."

"Monsieur France," Angel began, smiling sweetly. "Ne pas prendre cela personnellement, sil-vous-plait?"

What. The. Hell?!

"Angel, since when did you know French?" I gaped, extremely disturbed by this child. When did she even have the time to learn French, period?!

"Oh," Angel began nonchalantly. Her smile grew devlish. "Now that's a secret." The blonde then turned to France, deceitfully cunning, "Oui?"

Ok everyone, let's get one thing straight. Angel's ass-kissery was starting to get kinda overwhelming. That child obviously had a plot brewing in mind.

But then again, whenever doesn't she?

EXAMS ARE OVER IM SOO HAPPY!

Anyways, hope y'all like! Feedback is much appreciated!

(Btw, I used google translate, so, advanced apologies for any French mistakes¿ :'D)