Okay, why the hell did he not think of bringing a stun-gun to the meeting with him?

The next day came without any other incident, but America knew that his stupid coworkers were going to question him about his behavior yesterday, and that was something he was not looking forward to. He contemplated remaining silent and even ignoring them, but that would only cause them to become more suspicious. He had already given too much of himself away yesterday when protecting (Y/N).

But for fuck's sake that was his wife!

Guess he'll have to go for his foolish "hero and immature" approach again. God that was so exhausting, but at least it kept the others off his back.

Oh, and speaking of whom...

"America." Of course it had to be England who approached him first. "We need to talk."

"About what dude?" America asked, feigning confusion.

"Don't give me that you bloody wanker," England snapped. God was being angry all he knew how to do? "We need to talk about your behavior from yesterday."

America frowned. "And I'm afraid that there's nothing to talk about." He then proceeded to walk off.

But the hand on his wrist stopped him. "You're not going anywhere, not until you answer my question America!"

Now, after so many centuries of trying to stay calm around the older nation, America found himself glaring at said man over his shoulder, showing the man who had seen war, the deaths of his friends, and betrayal. Understandably, England immediately flinched away, stunned.

"And what part of "my business is none of your concern", do you not get, Mr. Kirkland?" America asked coldly. "I don't know if you're just downright stupid or you're getting older, but frankly I'm really getting tired of having to repeat myself to you and the other nations.  Is it wrong for someone to want to protect their own citizens, especially if they happen to be their assistant?"

"W-Well, no, but--"

"Then we have nothing else to talk about. Now, hurry up, I don't have all day." America walked off, not caring if England followed him or not, and as long as he kept his mouth shut, then he didn't care on what he did.

~~~

"YOUR HERO HAS ARRIVED!" America announced once he entered the meeting room, expecting groans of disappointment and even eye rolls, but what he received was complete silence. Feigning confusion, he looked up to find that everyone was staring at him with fear, confusion, and...was that even concern he saw?

He scoffed at that. Like hell.

"What's up guys?" America asked, soon forcing himself to jump in fear. "Oh no, you haven't seen a ghost have you?!"

"America." Looking to the side, America inwardly groaned at the sight of his so-called "brother". "We need to talk."

"About what?"

He didn't flinch when Canada slammed his fist on the table, leaving behind a crack. "You know exactly what I'm talking about America, don't you fucking dare give me that!" the latter hissed, pure malice in his voice. America wouldn't be surprised if Canada actually was made of nothing but poison.

"Give you this?" America repeated, and now a cruel expression came to his eyes. "Whatever do you mean my foolish brother?"

Unprepared for America's sudden change in demeanor, Canada stepped back, stunned. But the former's childlike expression came back, as if by light switch.

"Seriously dude, what's up?" he asked.

Canada, still stunned, said nothing.

Taking that as a no, America turned to the rest of the nations, smiling big. "Come on, let's get this meeting started now!" he chirped forcibly. "We don't have all day you know!"

Surprisingly, that was exactly what the other nations decided to do, and soon his behavior was forgotten as America had predicted, and they then began to argue with one another over the smallest of things like the fools they were.

And while no one was paying attention, America sadistically grinned at them. Fools, that's what they all were. Fools that were so easy to take advantage of. Hell, even (Y/N) was able to read underneath the underneath!

America chuckled to himself. What could his lovely little darling be doing at home now? Was she watching the cake she makes every Wednesday bake in the oven? Was she getting ready for the shower? Or was she patiently waiting for him to return home, dressed in her usual ballgown, the one that she always wore every Wednesday night?

Well, he'll have to wait and see, won't he?