Alfred F. Jones was in a situation.

Clad in a dark blue uniform, he stood at the dead centre of a dank, small room of an abandoned country home, his heavy black boots digging into the dust. Only a strip of light entered from the outside, through a window completely shaded by layers of mud. But, to be in a space that was less than ideal, no, disgustingly unlivable was not his situation. It was the cold metal that was pressed against his forehead that worried him.

Life or death. That was his situation.

" C'mon man! Just tell your guys outside to leave, and you go home alive! Got me?"

Hearing a tone of desperation behind him, Alfred observed through a cracked mirror hanging on the far wall, the life threatening scene in which he took part with a calm that only one with utmost confidence and calm could hold. A man, gaunt from head to toe, was holding a gun to his head, his other arm around his neck in a tight choke hold.

" Aw, that's not nice! They're all waitin' for you to come out, so they can bring ya to the party in those pretty white cars with the flashy blue and red lights! Ain't cool of you to tell them to go away!"

Despite the tight hold around his neck and the metal that could end his life at any moment against his brain, the American bit in a snarky remark, knowing the reaction it would create. A finger pressed tighter on a trigger.

" Shut up! As long as I can kill you anytime I want, they won't come in! I'll just use you against them!"

The captor tightened his grip on the captive, accenting his previous words by pushing the butt of the gun harder against the American's forehead.

Ouch.

Closing his eyes momentarily, Alfred sighed. Criminals were really so stupid weren't they? Always repeating the same thing like a broken record.

" No one can catch us!"

So stupid. Didn't they know that the good guys always won? That the hero always saved the day?

" Hurry up and tell the officers outside to leave!"

Guess not.

"Nope! Don't feel like it!" Adding in a bouncy tone, just to annoy his captor, the blue eyed male debated on the actions he should take. What was it that Ludwig told him? Wink for a sniper, yawn for a crash. What was a crash? Hmmm. Sniper would be a lot safer. He yawned.

CRASH!

" Drop your weapon and put your hands on the ground! "

A loud German voice commanded through the small space, the window shattering into pieces following behind a single bullet. Alfred quirked an eyebrow. So that was a crash. Fun.

" D-don't step any closer! Or I'll shoot this guy's brains out!"

The desperate cry went unheard as heavy footsteps, belonging to men clad in black armour began to pile into the room, large guns resting in their hands, all directed towards the single criminal in the room. A large man stood at the forefront of the group, blond hair slicked back as blue eyes burned with determination. " The orders that were given out in dealing with you were 'no negotiations'. Put the gun down or we will shoot."

" Shut up! Don't you care what happens to this guy?" The question rang out, it's meaning accented with a tighter grip on the trigger. A trigger that would be pulled if the grip were to tighten even a millimetre more. But, despite that, the German remained calm, calculating eyes on both the criminal and his fellow officer. " Alfred F. Jones can handle himself."

Disbelieving, the criminal laughed, insane and broken, and for a moment his hand loosened. " This guy? We'll see how he handles himself when he's de-"

The last word was cut off suddenly as a hand went upward, sharp and accurate, pinpointing man's wrist with a sharp jab. It was a miracle that the gun remained in his hand as he stumbled backwards to the ground, releasing the blue eyed male. Alfred walked forward, grinning.

" What was that, dude? I didn't get a chance to hear you? " Brushing himself off, the American's smirk widened when a fellow officer handed him a hand gun. One that he pointed at the criminal on the ground. " You were saying something about me not handling myself?"

The man widened his eyes, starting into the dark barrel of the weapon, the promise of either capture or death eminent. " Y-you...bastard..."

" Aw, that's mean. You shouldn't call me names just 'cause you lost!" The American paused. " Well, now that the game's over, I guess I should go through the motions now, shouldn't I? " Taking a step forward, Alfred aimed his weapon closer to the criminal's head. " Drop your weapon and get on your knees with your hands on your head. Or I will be have to use unnecessary force against you."

Swallowing anxiously, the man grinned insanely in the face of his downfall. It was over for him, even a blind man would be able to see that. But, the uniforms wouldn't get anything out of him.

" He won't forgive you for this..." The criminal glared the officer's face, smiling widely when Alfred frowned, stopping his advancse towards him. " That man won't forgive you for bringing down one of his people!"

" What?" Frowning now, Alfred stared at the grinning man before him, confused. " What the fuck are you trying to say?"

The criminal giggled, bringing the point of his own gun to his temple. " ENGLAND WON'T FORGIVE YOU!"

Alfred brought a hand out, realizing one the man was about to do. " Hey, wait! Do-"

A shot rang out, followed by a hollow thump on rotting wood. The criminal fell into a pool of crimson that continued to grow, a bullet embed into his head. Alfred swore.

" Fuck! That wasn't supposed to happen!"

Biting his lip, blue orbs on the body in front him, the American ran a hand over his hair, kicking the air violently.

" ...shit..."


Smoke swirled in the already polluted air as a man took a long drag of a cigarette, blond hair swaying in the cold breeze. Seated on the freezing cement steps of desolate brick building, the man glanced to his right, green eyes hazed with the moment's boredom.

The sight of nameless faces and monotone bustle met his senses.

He looked to the left.

More nameless faces.

Sighing, the man took another breath of smoke, swirling it into his lungs and blowing it out into the air. For a single moment the smoke settled in front of his face, blocking the view of the sky as it dissipated. To anyone with the curiosity to even spare him a glance, the man- dressed in a classy black suit, coat draped over the shoulders- would have seemed like a businessman, on break from a shift of work. And, in truth, his job wasn't far from it. Though it wasn't any legal. At least to society it wasn't/

After all, in the end, crime's a business.

Staring out into the grey streets, at all the living beings that walked along it, the blond chuckled. Really. It always amused him to wonder how many people would be willing to put a gun to his head if anyone were to happen to found out who he was. Someone who made a profit in killing people. Extorting people. Cheating people.

England chuckled once more. It would be the majority wouldn't it?


Seated in a chair positioned to the side of the door of a small office, Alfred F. Jones, banged the back of his head against the wall, muttering to himself. It was supposed to be a simple arrest. Bust in, capture the guy and everyone goes home good and happy. The criminal wasn't supposed to be dead. Sighing, Alfred rubbed his forehead, it's ache probably the result of his own head banging.

England won't forgive you!

Running over the statement in his head, the blue eyed American muttered to himself.

England. England, England, England, England. The bastard responsible for everything wrong with his beloved city. If it wasn't for him, the number of crime would probably cut by a fourth, seeing how he was the cause for it. His job would probably be a whole shitload easier too. Not that he'd didn't appreciate being the Hero. Alfred continued to mutter to himself.

Damn, how he wanted the man dead. Behind bars at least. The American tried to push away unheroic thoughts.

"Alfred."

Flinching, the blond turned to whom addressed him. He faced equally blue eyes and equally blond hair. " Hey, Ludwig. How'd it go?"

Stepping out of the office door, the German slicked back his already slicked back hair as he answered. " Yao's angry that we let the criminal shoot himself. We both have to write our own separate reports."

Grumbling, Alfred nodded. " Another report... I still have a couple more to do..."

For a moment, the German's eyes stared at the other sympathetically in understanding. For the past three years of service, Alfred F. Jones was given everything that had even the slightest connection to the man that went by the name of England. Murders, thefts, drug deals. The whole shebang. But, three years later, the list only lengthened as the American continued to make attempts at capturing someone he's never even met, let alone seen.

England.

Age: Mid twenties

Height: Unknown

Weight : Unkown

Nationality: British

Appearance...nothing more than a few inaccurate sketches based on dozens of accounts and a couple of blurred pictures. Just enough to prove the man existed.

Running the only known information on the criminal in his head, Ludwig clutched at a large manila envelope under his arm. Hopefully the assignment that he was about to give the American would be the last one involving England. The chance to finally get one of America`s most dangerous criminals behind bars. Speaking, the German handed the fellow blonde an envelope. " Alfred. You've been given a new assignment."


Laying his head on a pile of finished paperwork, England yawned, pushing the papers off to the side of his desk and leaning back into his office chair. He spenta good two hundred bucks just for the chair, a moderate sum, but with the level of comfort he was receiving, it was more than worth it. Sighing, and resting his head in the chair cushions, the Briton rested his hands in front his eyes, deep in thought. Business was slow. Braginski was currently visiting his family in Russia, so no drug deals with him. And that dirty mouthed Vargas was too busy pretending he wasn't a bleeding arms dealer while his goody two shoes brother with a cop for a boyfriend kept dropping in for daily visits. Really, the Italian was always swearing that if it wasn't for the 'no-good German bastard' he'd be free to do as he pleased. Yet he refused to plant a bullet in the man's brain. All for the sake of his family

England sighed. Family. What an annoyance. Good thing he was dead to them. Saved him a lot more trouble.

Grumbling, England rubbed his temples, trying to encourage sleep to overtake him. He swore when a knock came past the door, followed by a click of a lock and an annoying laugh.

" Having a nice nap there, Arthur?"

Of everyone the Briton knew, only a handful of people called him by his real name. And of all those people only one had a key to his office. England glanced up at the arrival.

" Prussia."

An albino, smartly dressed in a black suit with a contradicting yellow tie, fraught with dozens of pictures of yellow chicks, entered the room, grinning at the criminal leader.

" Kesesesese~ C'mon there, eyebrows, what was it we agreed on with the name calling?"

Arthur grumbled, repeating his acknowledgement differently as the Albino, German from the accent, shut the door behind him. " Gilbert."

Names. Separate from 'England'. Separate from ' Prussia'. Separate from the identities of two criminals and the only sense of innocence in a bloody world.

Grinning, the other strode into the room, seating himself in a chair in front of the Briton's desk and laying his head on the wooden surface. He continued to smile, his expression contradicting the dark contents that he spoke of. " One of our dogs died."

Arthur's interest level rose slightly. " Which one?"

Gilbert responded with a laugh. " Dunno! Got cornered by some big ones so he shot himself. Stayed a loyal bitch 'till the end!"

Interest depressing once more, the Briton frowned. " That's the third one this month...how does the police keep finding them?"

Smile dropping now, the red eyed male's tone turned serious. " I'm not sure. But, there might be a leak..." He scratched his head. " France suggested we do something to protect you. Since you're the boss."

Arthur made a strangled noise at the statement, clearly expressing his objection. " I don't need to be bloody protected!""

Gilbert laughed once more. " I know! But it was really funny how adamant h/e was about it!" The Albino quietened slightly. " And it does have it's good points. How many people tried to kill you this month? Twenty-two?" He paused.

" Sorry, but it looks like you're getting a bodyguard"


Alfred shuffled down a dark hall, tugging at his civilian clothing as he stared straight ahead, trying not to glance at the long haired blond man beside him. He tried to remember as much as he could of the assignment .

This man is Francis Bonnefoy. He's been undercover as one of England's underlings for the past couple years. He goes by the name France. And he was the one who recommended you into the group. Get caught and you're both dead. And don't forget. There, you will go by the name America.

" So...been here long?" Suffocating under the silence, Alfred attempted to strike up a conversation, finally glancing at the other. The man, Francis Bonnefoy, had blue eyes and blond hair, just as himself, staring straight ahead at their destination. Alfred was beginning to feel a small bit of respect for the man, someone who seemed to hold their position in high regard. At least until the man responded.

" Hon, hon, hon~ Frightened, are we?" The Frenchman seemed to leer down at him pervertedly as he examined his his fellow undercover coworker. ". Do not fret, petit lapin! I will ensure you are well protected, hmmm?" He accented the statement with a grope, chuckling when the American jumped away from his reach. It was then that they were met by another man, an Albino.

England's right hand man goes by the name ' Prussia'. Like England, we have nothing on him, except that he is German and an Albino.

Alfred examined the man in front of him, tilting his head. Ludwig had seemed uncomfortable when describing the man. And, from what he could see, the two seemed to resemble each other. He shook his head slightly. It could just be that they were both German.

" Kesesesese~ Already groping the new birdie, France? Kesese~" Strutting over to meet them, Prussia extended a hand to the American, introducing himself. " I'm the awesome Prussia! I'll be the one of the awesome people teaching you the ropes while you're here!"

Nodding, Alfred took the hand, still cautious. " I'm America." He paused. " The Hero." No matter what the situation was, he had to say it.

Grinning, Prussia nodded, leading him to a door. "Guess we shouldn't keep you from your princess then!"

He opened the door slowly.


A bodyguard. Scowling to himself, England glared at the door, awaiting the people who would soon walk through it. Really, the gall that France had to suggest, even recommend to him a body guard. Especially an idiot American. Who was...who probably was...

" England! I have a delivery for you!"

...a brat.

Staring at his soon to be protector, England was met with sunny blond hair and blue eyes. Physically, he was the Briton's type of man. Toned with muscles, not bulging yet not unnoticeable and eyes that held an attractive sort of confidence. But, he was young. From the list of experience he was given,he had expected someone maybe in his late thirties – or early forties. He frowned at the man who could be no older than he himself, 26, maybe younger. Still frowning, he couldn't stop his mouth from asking.

" Oi, do you still suck your mother's tits?"


As you know, England is a man know for his cruelty and calculations. According to the few witnesses who we were able to get descriptions from, their first impressions of the criminal was that he is cold, conniving...manipulative and sharp tongued. Keep your guard up with him.

Swallowing anxiously as the door opened slowly, Alfred prepared himself mentally to meet England. Since the beginning of his service as officer, the entirety of his assignments, except for a few drunken police calls, minor threats and the such, always had a connection to the Crime Lord. Drug deal, murder, extortion, thefts. Always, after thorough investigations, it was found that England had some sort of hand in such incidents. Never would the American would have expected that the man whom his entire career was built on would be someone so close to his age. But he was.

" England! I have a delivery for you!"

Hearing Prussia call out, Alfred continued to examine England, stepping through the door so that the both of them were in full sight of each other. The first thing he noticed were the eyebrows. Dark and thick, the American tried not to snicker as he attempted to focus on other things, like the man's age. England couldn't possibly be any older than he was, someone in his mid-twenties. Sandy blond hair fell nicely over emerald green eyes that seemed to glow in confidence and experience. But, that was not the only thing that the blue eyed male noticed. Running his eyes over the Briton once more, Alfred noticed the size of the man. For someone who caused so much pain to so many people, the man seemed small, as if an entire weight was keeping him down from the shoulders. Frowning, Alfred shook his head lightly as he attempted to push away his hero instincts to comfort such people. This man was a filthy criminal. He didn't deserve such things. Looking up, Alfred began to open his mouth, pausing only when noticing that the Briton was already speaking. " Oi. Do you still suck your mother's tits?"

Remember to treat England with the utmost respect. He is someone who will kill at the slightest infraction. It may be difficult, but hold your tongue when you are with him.

Alfred froze. Was he just insulted? Thinking, the American came to a conclusion. He was. Instinctively opening his mouth to retort, Alfred was about to speak of something that could possibly get himself killed- an eyebrow insult- when Prussia laughed, possibly saving his life. " Kesesesese~ At least he can suck on tits without paying for them!" The German snorted. " But, knowing you, you'd want to have your tits sucked instead. And maybe something else too!"

The Briton stared blankly at his right hand man's retort as Alfred reached for his jacket pocket to his concealed weapon. From what he knew, the American expected the other to whip out a gun and shoot the German dead. And, even if Prussia was a criminal as well, there was no way he would let someone die in front of him. Alfred never expected it to become a verbal whiplash. Nor did he expect that instead of slamming a bullet in Prussia's brain, England would slam his hands on his desk. Lividly.

" What are you trying to imply, you bloody prat?" Glaring darkly at the Albino, England's face was an interesting mix of red and purple as he tried to keep himself from lunging at his long time friend and right hand man. And, from the way the vein in his neck was bulging, he was having difficulties with it.

" Kesesesese~ Nothing at all~" Still grinning at the other's reaction, Prussia brushed off the Brit's anger, flinging his arm around France's shoulder and leading him out the room." I'll leave the awesome new pet to you!"

The door shut behind them, leaving only the two blonds in the room in awkward silence. England glared vehemently at his now bodyguard, as if he would like nothing more than to have his hands around his neck in a strangle hold. Alfred groaned. Great. Now he was a victim of misplaced anger. Moving along as the length of silence only increased, Alfred attempted to introduce himself.

" Nice t' meet ya, England! My name is American, the Hero!" He flashed a friendly grin, trying to make up for the horrible first impression. " I'm your new bod-"

" I know who you are, boy."

Attempt fail.

Meeting the Briton eye to eye, the American caught a glimpse of mistrust in dark emerald orbs as the other male continued to glare at him, frowning. The blue eyed male's smile twitched.

Alfred F. Jones was in a situation. A dangerous one.


A/N: Yoooo...I know I should be working on not just a fling right now, buuut...writers block is a murder and so was this plot bunny...so here it is... andsince I'm still focused on not just a fling, this fic is more to see reactions. I'll continue it since, no fic of mine will ever go unfinished but update time will be strange. Though I'll try to keep it regular.