A/N: Long time, no see, ya'll! I've been suffering from Writer's Block since last year and my Internet went out last Saturday. I just got a new, faster home ISP, so hopefully I can keep this gravy train rolling. While my Interwebs were down, I wrote this fic based on an old prompt I had saved to my flash drive to sate my boredom. It's my first USUK! Yay! I hope you all enjoy it and don't let the sweetness rot your teeth.

P.S. Their kid sings a little song that I made up on the fly. While I think it's a tad corny, I also think it fits the kid's play.

That's all! Read and enjoy!


"Papa! Papa!"

"Don't scream, Allen," Arthur said, placing a finger to his lips. He took his son's hand as they made for the walk home from school.

"Papa, I'm gonna be in a play!" Allen cried happily, skipping along beside the Englishman.

"Really? What part?"

"I'm a tree!"

Bad memories of his own primary school plays haunted Arthur, but he decided to put on a brave face in front of his child.

Always the tree.

"That's wonderful, Allen. Papa's so proud of you!"

"I can't wait to tell Daddy!" He smiled an adorable smile, missing tooth and all.

"Daddy'll be so happy for you," Arthur said. "However, you can tell Daddy after you finish your homework."

"Honey! I'm home!"

"Daddy's home!" Allen exclaimed, running for the front door. He threw his arms around his father, Alfred effortlessly hoisting the boy up into the air.

"How's my little soldier?" Alfred cooed, settling the boy on his hip.

Allen gave his father a salute. "Reporting for duty, Daddy!"

"Whoa! At ease, soldier! Did you finish your homework?"

"Uh-huh! Daddy, I'm gonna be in a play!"

Alfred smiled a cheesy grin, the very same one his son inherited. "Really? What part did you get?"

"I'm gonna be a tree!"

The American smiled at his son, then at his husband, who merely shrugged and retreated for the kitchen.

"I'm making meatloaf tonight," Arthur said from the kitchen.

Alfred blanched. His husband's cooking was less than stellar. "Oh. Great. I...can't wait, hon."

"Keep Allen busy while I finish up."

"Sure thing."

Dinner went off without a hitch. Alfred and Allen sat glued before the television set, Arthur shaking his head.

"Alright, my little tree. Time for bed," he said.

"Aw, come on, Papa. Five more minutes?" Allen whined.

"Now, Allen."

Sadly, the boy stood, hugging Alfred. "Night, Daddy."

"Listen to your mama, 'kay?" Alfred asked.

Arthur cut him a glare. He hated being called "mama".

"You wanna be a big, strong tree, right, buddy?"

The boy nodded, Alfred smiling.

"Then, you've got to eat lots of yummy, healthy food and get lots of sleep to grow up big and strong like me and Papa and be the best tree ever."

"Okay, Daddy. Night night."

He hugged Arthur, the Englishman kissing him atop the head. "Daddy's right. Good night, Allen."

"Night night, Papa."

Arthur watched Allen head for the stairs. "Oh! And brush your teeth before bed. Don't you go to bed and forget."

Arthur sighed, laying his book on his lap.

"What's up?" Alfred asked, rolling over to wrap his arms around Arthur's waist.

"I'm worried about Allen."

"What for? He seemed fine to me."

"It's not that. He's going to be a tree in his school play! A bloody tree!" Arthur cried.

"What's wrong with that?"

Arthur huffed, laying his hands by his sides. "He's basically background scenery!"

Alfred laughed. "Babe, did you play a tree in elementary school?"

The Brit bristled, shoving his husband off of him. "No, I didn't play a bloody tree in a play!"

Electric blue eyes bore into calm green ones, Arthur admitting his defeat.

"It was in 1st year. I was six. I wasn't talented or cool enough to get the male lead. Or even the supporting lead. I was cast as the tree. But, I was happy to be that tree. At least I got a part, right? Until my brothers found out that I was the tree. That torture lasted the whole year, even after the play. I didn't have any lines; I had to dance when the wind blew."

Alfred shrugged. "That doesn't sound so bad. I mean, everyone remembered the dancing tree, right?"

Arthur shook his head. "It gets worse. The next year, there was another class play. I was...the tree. And the year after that, and the year after that. I was forever the tree. I stopped in 5th year so some other poor, unpopular sod could be the tree," Arthur explained.

"You don't even know what kind of play they're doing yet. Maybe Allen will have some lines. Just wait and get all the details," Alfred said. He pressed a kiss to Arthur's temple. "Besides, no matter what happens, you're my tree."

Arthur sat across from his son the next morning, sipping on a mug of coffee.

"Allen, how did you get the part of the tree?"

Allen smiled his father's famous smile. "I wanted to be the tree, Papa."

"You what?"

Allen reached his hands up to the ceiling. "Trees are big and tall and strong, Papa! They're even taller and stronger than Daddy! Their leaves are green like your eyes, Papa, and green's my favorite color!"

Sometimes, his son's logic had a way of making Arthur smile. Sometimes, a six-year-old knew how to make his father feel better.

"You wanted to be the tree because it reminds you of me and Daddy?"

Allen nodded. "Uh-huh!"

"You know, I played a tree when I was your age," Arthur said.

"Really? Was it fun?"

No, it wasn't fun, Arthur wanted to say. He didn't want to disillusion his son.

"It was fun for me. I got to dance on stage."

"I wanna dance like a tree!"

"What will you do in your play?"

"I get to sing a tree song!" Allen said.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "A tree song?"

"Uh-huh! A special tree song!"

"Daddy and I can't wait to hear your special tree song."

Arthur looked up at the clock. "Oh, we'd better get you to school before you're late."

A week passed and now was the night of Allen's play. He stayed after school for a dress rehearsal, nervous and hoping that his parents wouldn't be late to see him sing.

"Baby, it's just a school play. It's not a PTA meeting. You don't have to wear a tie," Alfred complained.

Arthur turned around, looking his husband up and down as he put on his blazer. "If you wear that baseball jacket, I'm not with you."

"Oh, come on. It's not even that bad."

"Al, his teacher's going to be there," Arthur said.

"Are you trying to make some kind of impression?"

"Yes, Alfred. I am. We're his parents, for God's sake."

Alfred shrugged. "Fine. I'll put on something else."

"You don't have to do suit and tie, but at least be presentable in case we meet his teacher."

Alfred disappeared into the couple's shared closet, rooting around for a button up shirt and blazer. "This better?"

"Much. Now, hurry up."

Allen looked out into the audience as it filled up. He couldn't pick Alfred's shining blue eyes or Arthur's robust eyebrows out of the crowd.

"What's the matter, Allen?" Mrs. Robins asked, stooping down beside the child.

"I'm scared. I don't think my daddies are coming," Allen said.

She peered out of the curtain. "Well, which ones are your daddies?"

"Daddy's big and tall with yellow hair and blue eyes and glasses and Papa has green eyes and big, yellow eyebrows!"

Mrs. Robins turned around, smiling at her student. "I think your daddies just walked in."


"You'll see them when the curtain opens."

Alfred and Arthur sat near the front of the stage.

"My word. He's even listed in the bloody program," Arthur whispered.

"Well, yeah. He's in the play."

"I was just listed as Arthur the Tree."

"It's gonna be alright. Allen's going to be the best tree ever!"

The lights dimmed, signalling the start of the show. Arthur swallowed his fear in the darkness.

"It's Allen's part," Alfred whispered.

"I know."

The curtain opened up to a stage littered with cardboard trees and one big tree smack dab in the middle.


The pianist began to play, Allen swaying back and forth in his tree costume.

"That's our tree..." Alfred said, snapping a picture.

Allen scanned the audience quickly for his parents, smiling in relief when he saw his parents waving proudly back at him. Now, he could do this!

I was a little seedling, small and hard and round

One day, I grew up big and tall and sprouted from the ground

Growing up in the forest with all my big tree friends

From where I was, I could see just where the forest ends

My bark is hard and brown, my leaves are shiny green

Even from so far away, I am easily seen

But, I look like all the other ones. Am I a special tree?

Yes! Oh, yes! Yes, I am! There's no other tree like me!

The curtain closed to applause, Arthur dabbing away his tears.

"What'd you think about that?" Alfred asked, rubbing his husband's back.

"That's our tree. Our amazing, special tree."

After the play, Allen immediately ran into Arthur's arms.

"Papa! Daddy! Did you see me sing?" he cried.

"Of course we did!" Alfred exclaimed. "Daddy's so proud of you!"

"You were such a good tree, Allen!" Arthur said.

"Yeah. You made your Papa cry."

Allen hugged his Papa tighter. "I'm sorry, Papa. I didn't mean to make you cry."

"No, baby. These aren't sad tears. These are happy tears. Daddy and I are so proud of you."

"Hey, Art. Think we can stop my McDonald's for dinner?"

"Yeah, Papa! Can we?"

Arthur frowned. "Ugh. You know how much I hate you and Allen eating that over processed slop."

Alfred clasped his hands together. "Come on, hon. Not even a celebratory Happy Meal for the tree?"

Arthur looked into the pleading eyes of his son. "Well, alright. But, only tonight. I don't want you two getting used to that."

Alfred sat his son on his shoulders. "Why do you teach me and Papa your tree song on the way to the McDonalds?"


"I was a little seedling, small and hard and round

One day, I grew up big and tall and sprouted from the ground

Growing up in the forest with all my big tree friends

From where I was, I could see just where the forest ends

My bark is hard and brown, my leaves are shiny green

Even from so far away, I am easily seen

But, I look like all the other ones. Am I a special tree?

Yes! Oh, yes! Yes, I am! Because there's no other tree like me!"