Author's Notes: You know how sometimes kids get crushes on their idols when they're little? No? Maybe that was just me with my camp counselor back in the fifth grade…

No, this is not pedophilia. Sealand has a sort of crush/role model thing going on with America, whereas America thinks Sealand's England. He's reacts to situations as if he would if it were England. Just wanted to clear that up. No it's not creepy. You'll understand once you read. lol

Anyway, this may be a little out of character, I don't know. I saw the dub episode with Sealand and his voice was really cute so I wanted to do a story with him. Hope it doesn't suck as bad as I think it might. Sorry for all the oneshots too. I literally have at least thirty of them in my folders and I stumbled across this one this morning when I was looking for my geology paper. Lololol

Sealand was excited as he skipped down the hallway towards the conference room. Oh boy, oh boy! He was really going to witness the structure of the world's smartest nations joining efforts for the better of mankind. Yes, he had attended a couple conferences before, but nobody ever noticed him or acknowledged him. Most times he would sit in the lobby with his super neato Power ranger juice box that Japan had given him and scanned faces of possible nations that would talk to him seriously.

Sadly, aside from that one nation with the long brown hair who was terrified of a huge man that reeked of vodka, Sealand was seeing that his efforts were futile.

He sighed and slowed his pace as he approached large wooden doors. Well this time would be different! He would prove that he was a nation capable of leaving an imprint on the world. He could defend himself and stand on his own without any help.

Just as he reached for the doors, yelling erupted from behind them, the large door flying open and smacking the little boy in the face. He yelped and fell on his bottom, holding his nose and staring with wide eyes up at a group of bickering nations.

Sealand scurried back until his back bumped the wall to give two particular men some room to deal with…whatever they were doing.

Prussia steadied his feet and grinned towards the shorter blonde who looked like he wasn't going to budge. He cackled. "Is that it? I coulda sworn that a baby just slapped me."

Switzerland narrowed his eyes and gripped his gun tighter. "Classy coming from someone whose teeth are shattered from being pistol-whipped."

Prussia rubbed at his teeth, running his tongue over them. "They aren't shattered. You couldn't even hope to leave a dent on the awesome me!"

Switzerland sighed and shook his head. "If you're going to be loud then stay out here. You are too disruptive and you don't even play a valuable role in this meeting."

America laughed from over Switzerland's shoulder, England pulling on his ear to shut him up. "Owowowow – Let go, man. That was funny."

"Was it funny when that was you last month?" England asked dryly, obviously unamused with the way these simpletons conducted themselves.

America pouted and rubbed his ear. Prussia on the other hand scoffed and flicked his eyes over America's face.

"Don't compare me that that inbred hillbilly moron. At least I didn't break the door from its hinges when I fell out."

America gasped and glared, rolling up his sleeve. "Oh no he didn't. Did you just call my mother a whore?"

Prussia smirked. "No. I called her trailer trash."

America looked absolutely appalled. He moved forward. "Oh, it's on!"

England grabbed him by the shoulder roughly and blanched at him. "Are you a bloody buffoon? You don't even have a mother!"

"Well if I did, I'm sure she would want me to defend her. Step aside, madam. Let a man handle this." America easily brushed England away from him and sidestepped the unamused Switzerland before making his way towards Prussia. Before he could throw in some punches or in a totally manly way pull Prussia's hair, Germany stepped in between the two and grabbed them both by their ears as England had. They squealed and pulled away quickly, frowning at the stoic German.

"Fighting is prohibited, Bruder," he said simply.

Prussia brushed off some lint from his shoulder and scowled. "You're no fun, West," he grumbled. "Besides, it's not really a fight if you know you can win."

America snorted. "That's my line."

"Too late. I already said it."

"Well I thought of it first!"

Prussia laughed. "You can't prove that. Everyone knows you don't know how to think anyway!"

America frowned and pulled his fist back. England caught it with ease and slapped the back of America's head. The blue eyed blonde looked down at England with pursed lips and a childish grumble. "Ouch, England…That really hurt."

"Desist and abstain at once. There's no time for dillydallying. Especially not with anything that comes from your mouth." With that he spun on his heels and made his way back to the table. America clicked his tongue over his teeth.

"Hey, you don't agree with him do you? England?"

Sealand watched as the almost-fight died down quickly, no nation even looking down at him and his bloody nose. He merely stared up with fascinated eyes at the blonde American in the doorway, squawking away, the other nations waving off his words without a second thought. Sealand shifted to his knees and took a confident breath.

What if he could get someone as powerful as America to acknowledge him?

"Excuse me," he said, tugging on America's pant leg. The Yank jumped in surprise, eyes darting down below to the small boy with blood pooling from his face. "I don't think you're a stupid hillbilly."

America blinked down at him from behind his glasses, eyebrows raising into his hairline in confusion. Who the heck was this little twerp, and why was he bleeding like a faucet? With a twitch from his shoulder, America rubbed the tension out of his neck. How did someone talk to kids anyway? It had been so long since he had raised his states…

"Thanks, kid."

Sealand paused before beaming up at America. Oh gosh! Someone talked to him! He wanted to get up and dance but withheld the urge at the strange look America was giving him. Digging around in his pockets, America pulled out some napkins he carried around in case he had a burger nearby and threw them at Sealand's face. "Dude, I think you need these. You look like a horror movie," America laughed, eyes twinkling playfully as he resumed his regular cheerful persona.

"Be careful. If you ever need any help, just call me. The hero always saves the day!...Well, I might come a little late. But it's always fashionable to do that."

Sealand nodded, captivated. Wow. So this man was a superhero too?

"America, you bloody tosser! Get your arse in here before we lock you out again," England ordered back from in the room. America saluted down at Sealand before running back inside with a grin, closing the doors behind him.

"Don't get your panties in a knot."

With that, Sealand's first real conference experience was born. And with it, a bizarre fascination with America.

After observing the other nations in the back of the room with his lunchbox the next few conferences, Sealand could honestly say he had been won over by the muscular and audacious American who demanded everyone's attention. He was everything that Sealand knew he needed to be; he was the world power, vivacious, loud, strong, jubilant, and always seemed to have a pair of eyes on him.

Sealand swallowed his fruit rollup and felt his eyes sparkle. Unbeknownst to him, he had found a template for what he wanted his own country to be like someday.

As the months piled on, Sealand knew he should finally puff out his chest and go talk to America. He at least should thank him for giving him something to wipe his bloody nose the last time.

So one day after the summit let out, Sealand adjusted his hat and pattered after America who was making his way down the streets greeting random strangers like it was the most common thing in the world. Sealand felt his cheeks heat up and chest swell. He felt his hands sweat as he was suddenly nervous. He slapped his cheeks and shook his head; no, he could do this.

With a skip to his step, Sealand darted forward and clasped his hand onto America's, hoping to stop him to get his attention.

It worked.

America glanced down to see the shorter sandy blonde staring up at him with a slightly alarming look of determination and a heaving chest.

"Y-you're America, yes?" he asked.

America simply observed him blankly. Sealand took that as his go-ahead to continue. He gulped and calmed the butterflies in his tummy.

"Um, well, you see…I've been meaning to – I mean, it's like this. You-you…I mean, thank you for helping me a while ago. You didn't need to and I appreciated it and, um. I really…I mean, I-I want to be like you when I grow up. That is, you're so…someone that I like and want to be like…you know?" Sealand bit his lip, cheeks aflame with nervousness as he twined his fingers together and swayed back and forth, kicking at nothing in particular on the cement with his sailor boot.

He took a large breath before looking up to see America staring at him with that same blank look he had when he'd stopped. Sealand tilted his head in confusion. "W-was that something weird to say?" he asked in panic. Golly Moses, had he said something he wasn't supposed to? This was the world's superpower after all.

America finally showed some sign of emotion when his face contorted into distress as he slapped Sealand's hand away and gawked at the boy, pointing a finger at his face. Sealand jolted at the quick movement. "E-England! What happened to you? You're so small! I mean, way smaller than usual!"

Sealand patted his chest, trying to calm down his heart that wanted to leap from his ribcage before feeling confused. "England?"

America took three steps away when the boy took a step towards him. He held his arms out as if to keep the boy away. "Woah, woah! Take it easy there little fella. I didn't have anything to do with this. I didn't even go near your place to do something like this! Sure, I had dreams where I squished you small enough to clean out the crawl space in my attic, but I would never be able to actually do it." America's worst nightmare had come true. He wouldn't let England get close to him, not when he'd surely be mad in some way or another. Plus, now he had really tiny sharp nails that would leave serious stinging red marks on his skin. Ouch.

Sealand let a small giggle from his lips at America's reaction. "I'm not England, silly. I'm Sea L–"

"Wait a minute. Are you shrinking or am I growing?" America asked, patting himself down. His eyes bugged out. "I can't grow. It'd be like Cloverfield all over again. But this time I'd win 'cause me against New York just isn't a fair fight."

Sealand watched America start pulling at his hair, pacing against the city streets, not even noticing the strange looks he was receiving. "Okay. It's okay, Alfred old buddy old pal. Yeah, so England's small now, but he was always a little guy. No one will notice." He stopped to gasp. "But everyone's surely going to think I did this. If someone on earth could come up with a shrink ray, of course it would be me first. Aw man! And I really wanted to be the first person to shrink something!" He complained and stomped his foot.

Sealand adjusted his Little Bear backpack on his back and wondered silently how America could be so entertaining. Did he get that way on his own?

America rubbed his chin and laughed to himself. "No no no. I did shrink England. Even if I didn't really do it, I'll say I did it. I would rather be the envy of all my friends than let someone else steal the glory that should've been mine…First I gotta find some friends."

Sealand rocked back on his heels with a smile. So America really thought he was England? He rubbed at his face with slight disdain. It was his eyebrows, wasn't it? Well, he could live with this kind of attention. This was the most America had talked to him before. And he and England seemed to be close in some weird way. He vaguely remembered something about a special relationship. Sealand giggled to himself in excitement. Oh, this would be fun.

"What are you going to do, mister?" he asked, tugging on America's jacket. Hands were on his shoulders in an instant, America at eyelevel with a reassuring smile.

"Don't panic, England. I'll figure this whole thing out. I'll gather the smartest people on the earth to build a growth ray and get you back to normal. Just let your good buddy America take care of this, alright?"

Sealand nodded and patted America's head. "If you say so."

America blinked at him curiously before straightening himself out. "Good, good. It's settled then," he mumbled and cracked his neck. Now that he wasn't feeling so nervous anymore, America straightened out and grinned to himself. Of course. He was America so this would be solved in a jiffy.

The feeling of warm fingers sliding by his own and entwining pulled America from his silent thoughts as Sealand looked up at him with big eyes. "I'm awfully hungry."

America hesitated, eyes drawn to their connected hands. He felt heat creeping up his neck; England had never held his hand in public before. He'd always hated public displays of affection and wouldn't even let him mention it outside of their shady little get-togethers in cheap motel rooms. He nodded and looked away, feeling torn. "Sure. Yeah. That makes sense. Let's get you something to eat then."

"Yay!" Sealand cheered, pulling America down the street.

America felt perplexity blur his vision. Maybe England's frumpy attitude shrunk as well. Yeah, that was probably it.

It was the most fun Sealand had in a long time. He got to eat a huge thing of spaghetti with America and listened to his stories when he used to wrestle buffalo and save beautiful women from giant gorillas unleashed upon cities. Then they went to the park and got some cotton candy while America climbed a tree to get his balloon that unwrapped from his wrist and got caught in a tree.

It popped on a branch before America could get it. Seeing as he was about to cry, Sealand gave him his cotton candy. America shut up quite easily after that…for a while.

It wasn't such a good idea to give him sugar, for he got too excited for even Sealand to keep up with. So instead, he carried the boy on his shoulders and ran through a huge mass of pigeons gathered on the cement.

He ended up running back into the park for cover. Who knew pigeons held grudges?

When the sun in the sky had started to go down, Sealand could honestly say that being England was far better than being Sealand. Even though he was young, he could tell the difference in the way America looked at him.

When he'd seen him with the bloody nose in the hallway, America had looked at him like a polite stranger. He saw a kid who needed protection and a little help here and there. He didn't feel motivated to stick around and get to know him. They had no history with each other. America probably didn't even know his name.

…But when he was England. When he was England America had a certain warmth clouding the back of his eyes. It was like he was looking at him, not through him. His voice was filled with genuine laughter and he would listen intently, even if he wanted to seem like he didn't care. His touches weren't stiff but were kind and strong and just plain America.

As he ate his ice cream cone and waited on a bench for America to find a trash can, Sealand felt himself become a bit jealous. He was jealous of England. He glanced down at his feet and frowned, unhappy with this situation. Surely America would notice sooner or later that he wasn't England. He wasn't that stupid. But when he did, his bright eyes and nice smiles would go away. He might even hate him.

Sealand shuddered at that.

He quickly got to his feet and began to search for that familiar blonde cowlick. He walked around a batch of people and around a corner by some bathrooms before freezing. His tongue stopped licking his ice cream as he gazed across the street at England who was buying a beverage from a vendor. He felt his heart pick up tempo in nervousness. Oh fudge! What if America came this way and saw the real England? His cover would be blown!

He ducked back into a bush when England glanced up and caught his eyes. Sealand hunkered down against his knees, hoping that England hadn't recognized him.

Just in case, he slowly peeked his head out of the foliage to see England's furrowed and befuddled brow.

Sealand cursed and hunkered down. "Oh drat…" Crawling back out of the bush, he darted back around the corner, intent on finding his bench.

"Sorry, England. I got lost for a minute. These streets are so confusing. And those pigeons. I think they're out for blood if you know what I–"

Instead he ran straight into America's shirt, smearing ice cream everywhere. America roiled at the coolness against his stomach before taking note of the slightly panicked face and red cheeks Sealand wore.

"I'm sorry! I didn't watch where I was going!" he apologized.

America smiled awkwardly. "No problem. It's just a shirt."

"But doesn't chocolate stain?"

America's eyes opened in realization and he gaped, pulling at his shirt to see the brown smear better. "What? You're kidding! This is my favorite shirt!" He licked his thumb and rubbed at the chocolate only to find his efforts just made it worse. America huffed. "Hold on. I think I saw a Laundromat somewhere over there." He started to make his way around Sealand who went stiff when he realized England was just around the corner America was about to turn around.

He quickly darted to America and gripped his shirt. "No there wasn't! You're imagining things."

America swatted at his hands. "Cut it out, man. You're going to stretch it. Woah – hey, England! What's gotten into you?" America shrieked when the shirt was torn off his back. He covered his chest with his hands, face beet red, as he stared incredulously down at Sealand.

"Just throw it in the fountain. It'll be fine," Sealand said, running in the opposite direction. America balked.

"Dude! Give me back my shirt England!"

Sealand forgot that America was very fit, for he caught up to him in a split second, turning him around with a raised eyebrow. "You need to chill out. I'm not throwing my shirt in a public fountain. I may have done it once on a dare, but that was then, this is now. Give it here."

Sealand shook his head. Oh gosh. He needed to do something England would do; something to get America out of this general area. What would England say?

He frowned as best he could and stepped on America's foot harshly making the blonde yelp and stumble away. "Do as I say, wanker! I'm older and therefore smarter than your stupid…uh…stupid monkey face!"

America stopped hopping on his foot long enough to take in the insult. He growled and snatched Sealand's collar in his fist, pulling him to eyelevel. "You're calling me a monkey now, England?"

Sealand gasped, feet barely touching the ground as he nodded. "A stupid one."

America glared, opening his mouth to say something when a voice broke through the air.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

America straightened when hearing the voice, looking over his shoulder to see England standing in his pristine suit, tapping his shoes impatiently against the sidewalk with a scowl.

America snorted. "What's it look like I'm doing, England? I'm going to slap you silly." He turned back to Sealand before blinking. He spun around and gawked with wide eyes towards the Briton raising a disapproving eyebrow. "England! Wh-what? Wait…what?"

England let his eyes take in the situation before him; America removed of his shirt, grabbing a young boy with flushed cheeks by his collar and about to beat the living shit out of him, no doubt.


"Put that child down this instant," he ordered, moving forward and pulling Sealand safely out of America's grasp. He pried the shirt from Sealand's hands and threw it in America's face. "Be decent. You're in public."

With embarrassment, America flung the shirt over his head. "Wait…England, if that's not you then…" His tiny brain short circuited. "You cloned yourself."

England scoffed. "Don't be preposterous. This is a sovereign nation, you daft imbecile."

"A nation?"

"Yes. This is Sealand, not England," the Briton corrected and patted at the young blonde's shoulders. Sealand curled in on himself and hid behind England in mortification. England ran a hand through his hair. "I can't believe you couldn't figure that out yourself."

"But I thought you shrank."

"I'm not that short! Just because we all can't be giants like you or that goliath Russia, doesn't mean I'm not an average height!" England seethed.

"I'm sorry…" Sealand muttered, peeking out from behind England's leg. America frowned at the boy making him flinch.

"So you lied to me?" America asked. England looked between the two and let his stance slacken, feeling a bit of sympathy for the small boy.

"I didn't mean to. I just wanted to thank you. And then you mistook me for England and I tried to tell you I wasn't, but then you bought me cotton candy and put pennies in the fountain and…and…" Sealand sniffed into his sleeve and buried his face against England's pant leg.

The Englishman remained silent before easily saying to America, "Way to go. You made a young boy cry."

America flinched. Tears; a heroes one weakness. He scratched the back of his head uneasily before shifting his feet. "I guess I can forgive you. No harm done." He slowly smiled down at Sealand and rubbed under his nose. "Plus, I can't blame you. Who wouldn't lie to spend the day with me?" he laughed. England rolled his eyes.

"Oh, please."

"All is forgiven then! Hey, if we can get my shirt all fixed up then I think we could still catch dinner. You guys up for that?"

Sealand smiled and nodded eagerly while England sighed under his breath. "If I must." And here he'd thought he was just going to get a quick drink and hit a bookstore. As America sprinted off into the distance shouting something about 'last one there being a rotten egg,' England slowly followed after his ex-colony. He got no more than ten steps before a tug at his hand halted him.

Green eyes peered down at Sealand who had a rather peculiar expression on his face. He poked his lip out and looked away. "I'm sorry for pretending to be you."

"That's quite alright," England reassured and ruffled the young lad's hair. Sealand shook it off.

"He's really happy when he looks at you. I can tell he's really attached to you," he muttered a little bitterly. England felt his breath still at that, stomach fluttering at hearing such a thing. Sealand frowned and let go of his hand. "I don't really like it. When I get bigger and stronger then he'll look at me like that and not you anymore."

With that, Sealand darted past England with a face as bright as a tomato. England stared after him in surprised shock for a long while before his fingers flexed over his cup. He frowned and stormed after them with a sense of irritation taking life in the pit of his stomach.

No way in hell was he going to lose America to a little kid.

Who did the brat think he was dealing with?