It was rare for England to find a moment of peace, even for just a second. If he had more time, he would probably have a better temper. Something a few countries wished were fact, but sadly they all had to put up with his outbursts when his buttons were all pushed wrong. England thought that he was in the right to explode on others, thinking they had crossed a line that he made, expecting them to follow.

Of course there would always be America, the one who completely ignored England's line all together. Today was one of his worst days in awhile. Not only had he come to the meeting late, but whenever he wasn't ignoring the presenters, he would interrupt with some loud and crude comment. England had remained calm the majority of the meeting, allowing China or Russia to step in with a few words. However, by the end, America had turned to England to complain about the royal wedding preparations.

"When will they get married?" he complained. "I want all of this stupid hype to be over with! My press is going crazy!"

England, shuffling his papers into order, chose to ignore that high pitched whining that came when America fussed. "Yes well they'd do well to report on truly interesting celebrity events. None of that ridiculous garbage about your pampered movie stars and what not."

"Hey!" America pointed a finger at England. "Your royalty is just as pampered, if not more."

"At least mine have legitimate reasons to be so." England moved to put his things in his suitcase, already planning what to do when he got home. He was anxious to put some tea on, maybe find a few moments to read, and then finish his evening pouring over details for work tomorrow. Alone.

America had other plans. He followed England out of the conference room, continuing his meaningless rant. "Whatever! Do we have to hear about marriage stuff? Marriage is boring!"

England called for the elevator with a tired sigh. "No, perhaps it just isn't for you. It isn't for any country, really. We're not meant to be married or take vacations or have a jolly good time."

America regarded England a moment, his hands in his pockets. It looked like he was tumbling something over in his mind before he smiled broadly. "I take vacations all the time!"

"Yes and look at the conditions of your economy."

The elevator came then as America barked out an insult. England returned it, thinking that would be the last of it and America would take another lift, but he joined the man.

"You know, you could do with a long break," America said haughtily. "I'm sure it would do the entire world a big favor."

England chuckled sarcastically. "Unlike you, I have obligations to deal with. I'm sure the world would enjoy seeing you actually put some bloody initiative into the work you always claim to be doing. Who knows, maybe you'll actually be worthy of that title 'Superpower' for the first time in years."

The bell sounded as the elevator stopped on the ground floor. America stared at England, obviously hurt and upset. England bit his tongue to suppress any apology he felt inkling in the back of his mind. It was America's fault anyways. He had been an annoyance to the Englishman's patience all day. It was only natural that England would turn even America's usually cheery disposition into a foul one.

"What? No retort?" England asked as he headed for the exit out of the hotel lobby. It was raining outside; a typical day in England.

Nevertheless, England prepared his umbrella with a click of his tongue. It was rare to see America be silent after an insult. Then again, England was the only one who could bring the man down. He could either insult his weight or his economy; easily the two most sensitive subjects America hated to talk about.

America continued to follow England, but said nothing. Eventually, he turned the opposite way, supposedly heading for his own ride home, and England was left alone. Again. At least it was quiet. Yes, quiet. And not sad like America's expression was when he left.

He'll get over it, England thought, rushing into the car that was picking him up. He leaned back in his plush seat, sighing in relief. Soon he would be home and with a cup of tea in his hand. No loud Americans to foul up his plans.

"America," England started. "What…are you doing in my house?"

England had barely gotten in his house when he saw America lounging on his couch as if he owned the place. The mud from the rain had been tracked into his house from America's boots that were now kicked off onto his usually pristine carpet. Not to mention the soaking wet jacket hanging off the side of the couch and dripping onto the floor to create a small puddle.

"I thought I could come by for a bit before I went home," America said in the most natural of tones, as if he truly believed everything he said.

England dropped his suitcase and slammed the front door. He continued to stare at the mess on his carpet, hoping that in a moment it would all evaporate, along with America. However, it remained, much to England's displeasure.

"Get out," England said through gritted teeth.

"Nope!" America lunged off of the couch and strode up to England smugly. "Because I have a plan."

"Is it a plan to clean up my bloody floor?" England was so close to erupting into a fit of anger he so normally fell into.

America, sensing the situation for once, put his hands on England's shoulders. Without saying a word, he walked England into the kitchen, parking him in front of the stove. In moments, America had the tea packets and kettle, already filled with water, in England's hands.

"Make some tea and I'll clean up." And with that, the man was out of the room.

England sighed in exasperation, his hands shaking. He had to calm down. Like it or not, America was his guest and England was gentleman. Gentlemen never threw their guests out. They never made them clean either, for that matter, but the man had made a mess of the living room. And he offered after directing him into here. England supposed he would let that mishap slide.

Smiling slightly, he put the kettle on and continued through his usual tea preparation. Something mundane was one of the few delights England still reveled in. It wasn't mandated by his people nor did it require all of his effort to focus on the task at hand. He could just be.

"All clean," America said cheerfully, poking his head into the kitchen. "So no need to be worried about that anymore."

"I'd thank you if it weren't for the fact you made the mess in the first place," England said. He put in a trickle of milk as he finished pouring the tea. "Now, why have you come?"

"I told you, I have a plan." America came for England again.

Of which, of course, England instinctively backed up. He hated encroachment, no matter who it was. Still, America came forward and grabbed England's free hand. The island nation put his defense and stumbled away, but the other nation was much stronger. He yanked him forward into his arms, catching him with ease.

"Careful," America said far too close to England's ear. "If you didn't struggle you wouldn't have spilled your tea."

"What?" England snapped away, his face red, and saw that he had indeed spilled the tea. "Oh brilliant!"

America held his hand up. "It's ok. Really. I'll clean it up. Just get another one, okay?"

England muttered to his fairies as he moved back to the kettle. America chalked it up that the man was just talking to himself and said nothing. In a few moments, the tea had been wiped up off of the linoleum. But now there was still the matter of what America's plan was. Judging by the man's brash actions just moments earlier, he was hesitant to strike up any conversation.

It seemed America didn't care for speaking, for once. He took England hand again, although much less hastily. This time, England followed. America was heading for England's den, pausing to grab a book that England had left on the side table.

The room was mainly filled with wood, be it from the flooring to the book cases towering over the nations' heads. A lush rug of emerald green lay across the hardwood floor, matching the green pillows that sat in the bay window. It was an old favorite spot of England's that he rarely had time to spend quality time in.

"America," England stared, but the other man stopped him with a hand on his lips.

England's eyes widened, his body stiffening at how close America had gotten suddenly. He stared into his endless blue eyes, not noticing that it had stopped raining outside. Without words, he allowed America to move him so he was now sitting on the soft pillows on the window seat. He then put the book in England's hands, taking the tea from him and placing it on the small, round side table nearby.

"This is my plan," America said lightly. He smiled gently, matching the tone of his voice. "To make you sit and be silent and relax for a bit. I think you need it. Like…really need it."

At first, England was taken aback by America's thoughtfulness. Now that his nerves had quelled, he had considered that perhaps he had gone too far with the lad. He looked away, embarrassed by his earlier tongue, and moved to open up his book. However, America picked England up in his arms in a fluid motion.

"What is this?" England squawked. He took back everything he had just thought.

America sat then, putting England in his lap, with his hands resting on his hip. "Making sure you don't get up and answer the first phone call or e-mail you get. I want to make sure you stay right here."

"On your lap? This is preposterous! Let me go!" England squirmed; a futile attempt, really.

"Ah, England." America tapped the man on his nose. "You're sounding more like an old man by the minute. You're really getting stressed out. Come on, relax. What's the harm in staying here for just a few minutes?"

England huffed irritably, submitting to his defeat. He pushed the book into his face. His refusal to answer contradicted his hollow anger. He wasn't truly mad at America, not anymore. True, the man had caused much of his stress of the day, but there were other matters. Perhaps some down time was good for him, even if that meant having it spent in America's lap. With his warm hands on him and his steady heartbeat behind him.

America was quite comfortable England realized with some horror. He was actually relaxing. Even as America leaned his head forward to rest his chin on England's shoulder, he continued to relax. His body settled back against America's broad chest, enjoying the feel of his muscles against his scrawny back. America's light breathing warmed England's ears and cheeks.

The sun outside was the perfect light for them both to read whatever random book America had grabbed. And while they sat there, taking comfort in the joy of each other's presence, if only for a moment, the two found that countries can relax for a moment. They can brush off whatever duties they have to their people and just be.

It wouldn't last long. Someone would call, get anxious, and force them from their reserve. Either that or England's tea would go cold and he'd have to get up to get a new one; the moment broken.

No matter how long they sat there, they spent some time with each other. Never noticing that the book England had grabbed was upside down the entire time.

Hoshiko2's cents: Just thought I'd write a little oneshot based on my favorite USUK picture: http:/ / img. photobucket. com/ albums/ v735/ hoshiko2 / For%20LJ/ reading. jpg

I'm sick for the day and got bored. Since I'm home alone, I thought I'd write this to cheer me up. Sadly, this means I can't update And All That Jazz today like I had planned. It'll have to come later, so to anyone that reads that, I'm sorry. I hope you enjoyed this.

By the way, I checked the weather… AND IT IS RAINING IN ENGLAND! Until Wednesday. Heh.