Chapter Text
Germany was droning on about tariffs. Most days England could corral his attention and take clean notes that he would never look at again, but today the fluorescent lights were dull, the coffee was acidic, and America was sitting to his right.
America sat reclining with his suit jacket hung over the back of his chair. Even with his arms down his starched, white dress shirt stretched tightly over his chest. Not that England really noticed, but America certainly had his trousers tailored as well. England tapped his fingers on the glossy table, one at a time. The leather seat to his right squeaked as America sighed and loudly slurped on his drink. England turned to meet his gaze with an unamused expression.
America smiled. “Relax. It’s diet.”
“Is it.”
“Yup. Ya want a sip?”
“I don’t like aspartame.” England placed his left elbow on the table and leaned on his fist.
“Why not? It’s like free sugar,” America said as he placed his elbow down to mirror England. He took another sip without breaking eye contact.
“It’s as edible as Hollywood films are watchable.”
“Exactly!” America exclaimed. From the front of the room, Germany cleared his throat.
“Please no talking during presentations. This is your warning,” Germany said as he clicked too hard to the next slide. He continued on gesturing rigidly to a chart while everyone else in attendance turned to look at them. England noticed Russia’s unreadable smile, France looking on in faux disapproval, and Hong Kong rolling his eyes.
“Glad we could agree on something dude,” America whispered with a wink. “Hey. What are you doing after this?”
England angled himself away from America. “I’m busy.”
America leaned closer. “Really? Getting drunk alone at a pub doesn’t count.”
England met his eyes again. “Tonight I’m having dinner with my dear friend, France.”
England watched America’s expression falter slightly, before turning into a smile. “I’ll call the restaurant and change the reservation for three.”
“You’re not invited.”
“We can go somewhere else.”
“There is no we. If you wanted to make plans you should have asked in advance.”
“You still have time for a drink at my hotel after this.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Then how ‘bout tomorrow?”
“You’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Then later tonight?”
“Enough!” Germany shouted, slapping his papers down on the podium.
“We’re done,” England put up his hand defensively. “You have my word.”
Germany inspected England over his glasses. “I expected better behavior from the hosting country.”
Italy giggled while France snickered. England felt his cheeks go warm. Germany didn’t wait for a response before continuing on to yet another graph.
England pointedly turned away from America’s pleading eyes. God he wanted out of here. It was insufferable sitting next to him when they couldn’t have a real conversation. England closed his eyes and counted the seconds down.
***
America strode out of the conference doors and onto the London streets. “Wait! Let’s go to a park nearby!” he shouted after England. Breaking into a jog, America dodged a lady pushing a stroller and a group of teenagers with dyed hair.
England continued at a brisk pace. He knew this city like he knew how to breathe; it would be easy to lose him. Around the corner, the entrance leading down to the Tube appeared. England turned back to see America hadn’t rounded the corner yet. He could slip away so easily now. Except England froze when a mass above caught his eye. Perched on the round Underground sign sat a large goose with brown feathers, a black neck, and white cheeks.
“Unbelievable,” he groaned. Well, maybe it hadn’t seen him. Maybe it wasn’t her. England made a bolt for the stairs. At his first movements the bird extended its wings. England sidestepped as she dove at him, barely stopping himself from tripping.
The idle pedestrians moved to give them plenty of room. Arthur spun around to see her stalk towards him. He gripped his briefcase as the air seemed to tighten around them. America’s steps rang out from round the block, maybe a few seconds away. Better to get on with it, then. With two brisk strides forward he swung, nailing the goose in the head. Crack.
“Hah!” England exclaimed as the Canada goose stumbled over and collapsed. He felt no remorse as he rushed to the stairs; she wouldn’t be dead for long.
“Arthur! Hey!” America shouted behind him.
England scurried down the first steps. He felt a strong hand grip his elbow and pull him back. “Wait, please England,” America said.
“Let go of me you idiot!” England shouted while failing to wiggle out of his grasp.
“I’m sorry for being so persistent, but I have something really important to tell you.”
“Not now!” England looked back beyond Alfred. “Fucking 'ell.” He yanked on America’s hand. “Duck!”
“What the heck!” America said when he locked eyes with the goose. America twirled England into his arms, spinning them around so America’s back faced the goose, shielding England. With his face crammed into America’s chest, he could smell his sweat and sharp cologne up close.
“This isn't a duck. Ow!” The goose pecked at America's calves. “What did you do to it, England?!” America shouted in his ears.
“Nothing! Let me go! Ahh–!” England yelled as America swung him up so he was holding him bridal style. “I’m perfectly capable– Ah!” With a honk the goose latched onto the end of his trousers. “Off!” he said with a kick.
“Oh shit,” America said. He helped England by whirling them around until the goose slammed against the stair railing. England heard a thump and the distinct sound of ripping fabric. The goose began to tumble down the steps. With England and his briefcase secured in his arms, America ran back up to the street. Luckily, England spotted a black cab nearby and raised his arm to hail it.
“There,” he told America, pointing to the taxi.
A flurry of wings erupted from the entrance as the taxi rolled to a stop with its window down. America squatted so England was eye level with the driver.
“Could you take us to Brown’s Hotel?” England said hurriedly.
“All right," the older driver said with only an eyebrow raised in concern.
America let England slip out of his arms as they shot into the back of the taxi. America shut the door and the taxi moved back into traffic. Arthur looked back, expecting the goose to be trailing them, but instead she had returned to her original perch atop the Underground sign.
America collapsed back against his seat as England inspected the torn edges of his trousers. “What the hell did you do to that goose?” America questioned.
“Don’t blame me! That thing has been following me around for bloody centuries!” As soon as it was out of his mouth England knew he had disclosed too much.
“You- what?” America froze with furrowed eyebrows. “What did you do to piss it off that much?”
“I just said–”
“And for centuries? How come I’ve never seen it before?”
England faced America. “Honestly it’s baffling considering how often you follow me around like a puppy.” Alfred opened his mouth and closed it. England felt a twinge of guilt as he read the genuine hurt on his face. “She doesn’t appear often. It’s just she wouldn’t have ambushed us if you hadn’t stopped me.” America was quiet for a moment.
“It’s a her?”
“That’s not–“
“How do you know?”
England waved his hand. “General observations.”
“From centuries of being attacked?”
“She doesn’t always attack.”
“Oh.” America leaned back against his seat. “I get it.” England took a deep breath and tried to relax his muscles. Out the window he watched the narrow buildings and crowds go by as the car moved along. America tapped his fingers together and appeared to be thinking hard. “Do you have a name for her?"
“No,” he said quickly.
“You do!”
“It’s not funny. I don’t.” England crossed his arms. America lightly punched his shoulder.
“Haha! You probably named her something like Mrs. Crumpet.”
“You’re continuing to misunderstand the situation.”
“So I’m getting warm. And I totally understand. The situation where I saved your ass from a demonic bird. I bet she’s not going to bother you again when I’m around.”
“Yet she did and you cost me the leg of my trousers.”
“I can buy you a new pair. Clothes are temporary anyways, psychological scars are not,” he said, pointing to his brain.
England sighed. America had never bought him an item of clothing before, while England had bought him many. He remembered it had taken a lot of prodding to get America to wear nice clothes.
“What is it that you wanted to tell me?” England asked.
“I–” America swallowed. “I wanted to tell you…that…Tony is celebrating his birthday soon and he wanted to invite you!”
England looked at him. “Really.”
“Yup!”
“You couldn’t have told me this at the meeting?”
“I wanted to but it’s sort of a private event, and it’s going to be super awesome, and if I asked you at the meeting everyone would have wanted an invite.”
“To Tony’s birthday party.”
“The one and only, Tony the Alien.”
“Alright. Well I can’t go.”
“You don’t even know when it is.”
The taxi rolled to a stop outside of the unassuming entrance to the hotel. “This is goodbye,” Arthur said.
“Come up for a drink.”
“I still have my plans which now include buying new trousers before dinner.”
“I told you I can buy those with you. I won’t see you for a while after this.”
“You had all week to spend time with me.” England reached over him and opened the door. America didn’t move. He gently took each of England’s hands in his own.
“I’m sorry.” His expression contained genuine remorse. England imagined himself calling Francis to cancel and going up to America’s room. He and America both knew it wouldn’t be just one drink. He squeezed America’s warm hands.
“Goodbye, America.”
America reluctantly stepped out and watched as the cab drove away. He rustled in his pockets for his phone and flipped it open.
“Hey Tony. Have you ever heard of an immortal goose?”