To The Sun ((Alfred))

[Arthur Kirkland]

((2080))

England was tired, and he had been for a long time. He felt weak and old, and he wondered if this was what China had felt like those times that he’d complained back in the World Wars. He had been brought up to love the sea, to revel in it and to use it, but also to fear it. It had been a protector and a provider, but also a killer. In a way, he’d always known that the sea would be the death of him, and sometimes he thought that he didn’t mind so much. And while he was weakening, England still had some land left. He still had time to make new bonds, and… renew old ones.

He’d been spending more time with all of his old colonies these days. He hadn’t had time to properly apologise with Wales before he was swallowed up by the sea, and he had quickly moved, not willing to let that happen again. Of all of them, America had been both the easiest and the hardest. He had already been closer with him than he had been since…. That time, which they were still carefully avoiding the subject of. It still hurt to be close, though; part of him couldn’t help but fear that he’d do it again, that if he got close America would just break his heart again.

Time passed, though, and they had fallen into a comfortable pattern. Maybe America had grown up a little, or maybe England had. Either way, they hadn’t fought for a long time. England was waiting for him to arrive now, tapping his foot impatiently. The corridors in the makeshift terminal was busy. England’s runways had all succumbed to the waves, and he was currently using an old military one for the few flights that went back and forth from his little – and shrinking – island. He was thinner than he’d ever been before, but still wiry and lean, and much to his distaste, a cane rested against the wall beside him. The constant ebb of the waves at the south of his lands had weakened his ankles, and he’d been forced to use it for almost ten years now.

The sound of the plane arrive him made him start up. He grabbed his stick and limped quickly over towards the window, so he could check. Sure enough, it was an American plane, full of aid supplies. A lot of England’s population had died in the plague, and since then even more had left for lands less tormented by the waves, but a few still doggedly held on, for which England was grateful. But with a lot of his good farmlands eaten up by the sea, England needed help to feed all of his population. More importantly than the aid, though, he could sense the other Nation that flew with it, and without realising it he smiled as he limped towards the door, and out onto the tarmac. This particular airport was high on a hill, and got windy and cold at times. It certainly wasn’t ideal, but at least it was unlikely to get washed away any time soon.

Glancing over a sea of uniforms, England looked for blonde hair and blue eyes, his coat whipping around his ankles in the wind. He hadn’t seen America for months, and he was looking forward to seeing him again.

[Alfred Jones]

Almost all of the major nations of the world had been affected by the flooding, losing bits of land and of course sometimes a good chunk of their population, if it wasn't already being ravaged by diseases. America had actually taken on a good number of Englands citizens, since quite a few of them had family in the United States of America. However, his mind wasn't especially on them, which he felt some guilt about, but he still had human emotions.

No, his mind was on England now. Despite the fact that they had a sort of pattern, Alfred kept fighting more and more to see England more often. When this had first started, amusedly, his own boss had attempted to hide the news of Englands loss of land from him. He, and every other politician who knew of his existance, hadn't wanted him to react insanely. It was a bit of a scary moment for a lot of them when he had found out, but now he just made a point to visit him more than usual.

When the plane finally landed, instead of moving to help with the supplies, America had worked his way through the crowd, searching for the older nation. Of course perking up when he saw the older man, America smiled brightly and wormed his way out of the crowd, hurrying on over to him...To be honest, the cane just completed his old man appearance, and while America had teased England about it for the first few weeks, after that the normally mischevious man hadn't commented on it once. That England was still able to get up and move around after what his small body was taking was impressive to America enough.

"Arthur!" He called out his human name happily, trotting over, and of course began with the customary hug. While America had always been a very open and touchy nation, the hugging when meeting England again had started around near the time the plague had started up. Bugging England by touching him had been common before that, but hugging was rare, and now it was as if the two things had immediately switched around.

Rubbing his cheek softly on the others ear while a very gentle squeeze was given, America finally released him before giving his usual cheerful smile. "Didja miss me, Arthur? Oh, I brought you some stuff too, um. Some of the tea you really like that you can't get the flavors of over here any more, some toffees,..Stuff like that." Ahh America. The entire would could be in peril and people would still demand that sweets and comfort foods still be produced.

These were in a rather large bag he had in the plane though, protected from heat and other such issues...Not to mention he was kind of sneaking them in for England, but the soldiers had long grown used to the strange blondes doting on the weak looking man and no one ever said anything about it. At that moment, a strong gust of wind blew across the airfield though, and America shivered as he zipped his jacket up, teeth chattering lightly.

"C-can we go inside?" He requested, eager to get out of the cold and back to Englands home for the few days he'd be spending there. Unfortunately, America was one of the only nations that stayed away from their own countries for longer than three days in these times, wanting to spend as much time as possible with England...To be honest he wasn't even supposed to be here, but a feeling in his gut had told him to go see his friend, and of course he listened to it.

[Arthur Kirkland]

England’s attention was grabbed by his name, and his lips twitched as he held back a smile. It was good to see America again, even if he’d never exactly say it out loud. He was expecting to be pulled in, but he still let out a grunt of complaint. “Git. Is this really necessary?” He complained, but his hands wrapped around America in return, squeezing him in in return. At first it had taken him a while to get used to affection from the other Nation again, but these days he leant into America, taking his weight off his cane and leaning on the taller man instead so he could hug him in properly in return.

When he was released, England returned his weight to his stick, and chuckled. “Hardly. It was nice and peaceful without you.” He teased, though he did smile at the mention of the treats that America had brought. Luxuries were getting harder and harder to get hold of these days. “Thank you. You know you don’t have to, though.” Shivering lightly as the wind picked up, he nodded quickly at the suggestion that they should move inside. He eyed America’s bag for a moment, deliberating if he could carry it, but in the end had to admit defeat and turn to lead America back into the terminal building without trying to take it.

“How was the flight over?” He asked as they walked, glancing at the blonde beside him. “Did you manage to get some sleep? I put some stew in the slow oven at home so we can eat when we get back and then you can go to bed if you need to.” There was less security than there had been – at least on these military flights – and America just had to show his passport to get through, then England started to lead the way out to where he’d parked his car, eager to get home and away from the chaos of the airport.

[Alfred Jones]

"Yes." America stated, giving the other a little cuddle into him before finally he allowed him to pull away. Sticking his tongue out at the teasing though, the younger nation just chuckled as he pulled the bag up on his shoulder better, adjusting it. It was rather heavy, seeing as he did like to spoil the small nation quite a bit, and so he might have gone overboard a bit...Such as he only had two other changes of clothing and then the rest of the bag had stuff for England in it, and it was a rather large bag.

"I wanna! I like bringin' you presents." Smiling, America noted the eyeing but seemed pleased that England didn't try anything this time. The last time that the smaller nation had tried it, he had collapsed over and America had had to carry him into the airport to sit down for an hour, just because he refused to let him drive his car. Unfair was what it was...However, America just cheerfully followed the normally grouchy nation, still happy as ever to see him.

"Mmm...It was okay. Pretty turbulent. I managed to sleep for the first two hours in the air but then I couldn't anymore...Ooh, and you promise it's not burnt or nothin'?" He'd never stop teasing England about his cooking, unfortunately, but he had let up to the point where he actually would eat the others food without complaint most of the time. "Hey Iggy, I was thinkin', maybe this time I could sleep with you in your bed! It was really cold last time, plus it'll be a bit like old times."

Once they were finally out of the building and on the way to Englands place, America took the moment to look out the window. It seemed that every time he came here that something had changed. Even with the smaller population, many things were torn down and then rebuilt, or converted into something else so quickly it was like it was a mere blink to a nation...It was similar over at his place on the coastal regions, but not like this. After this visit though, America was going to see Japan, he was worried about him as well. However, he had a feeling that his poor friend was going to be in even worse shape.

For now though, he forced his mind into enoying the time with England, and he smiled at the older nation brightly. "Can we watch a movie too?" America requested. Since he didn't have much time here, the younger man wanted to spend as much time as he could with England doing...Well, hang out things rather than letting it show how tired he was. Being the United States of America was tiring--He was just trying to help so many people and nations at the same time. Sometimes it sucked being the Hero of the world.

[Arthur Kirkland]

England felt bad that America was spending so much money on him. He knew that it was hard for everyone at the moment. He felt a little guilty knowing that he was in turn going to give most of it out to those more needy than him, but he thought that America might have worked that out for himself. “If you don’t like it, you can go hungry.” He huffed at the mention of his cooking. He’d made beef stew specially, too, since he thought that America liked it! Still… England was weak to America’s complaints, and probably would give in after a bit of complaining and get a takeaway, but then America would have to endure him being sulky for the rest of the afternoon. There were some things that it would probably take more than a lifetime to change.

“If it was too cold you should have said something. I could have put more blankets on the bed.” England said, frowning. He wasn’t sure how to respond to America’s suggestion. He felt that sharing a bed was perhaps going a little beyond friendship – but then again in Iraq and in the World Wars they’d slept side by side plenty of times. Perhaps it was just different because there was a second bed on offer. Still, it was fair enough that it got cold sometimes. With the weather systems changing, England had lost the benefit of the gulf stream, and had been plunged into a weather system that was more reminiscent of Canada, who, after all, he was on the same latitude as. Even though it had been fifty years since he’d enjoyed the temperate temperatures he once enjoyed, England was still struggling to get used to them, especially with the constant drift northwards as the tides followed. So he failed to give America an answer, figuring that he would have forgotten by bedtime anyway.

As they reached the car, England opened the boot for America, and then left him to put his bag in as he limped to the driver’s seat. It was just as well he was still fit enough to drive, England would probably be unbearable if he was stuck at home all day without any form of mobility. In fact, that was probably half of the reason why he still forced himself to walk around, why it had taken so long for him to give in and start using a stick. He wouldn’t allow himself to sit and rot at home. There were too many things for him to have to do. When America joined him in the car, he started up the engine and headed away from the airport and back home. “If you want.” England agreed. America had hooked his TV up to the internet for him so they could download movies, which was probably just as well, because his collection had been lost long ago. “After dinner?” He suggested. He was hoping that America would sleep, actually. He was always worried that he was always off visiting other Nations, and with his own country to look after, even if he wasn’t suffering as much as some, England wondered when he had time to do everything. “I managed to find a copy of that TV series I was telling you about.” It had been a long time since England had had the resources to make his own shows, but they’d been talking about ones from when he had, and America had sounded interested in one, so England had hunted down a copy for him.

[Alfred Jones]

Really America didn't care if he gave some of the stuff out, it wasn't an issue. Really him giving England things were more of a symbolic thing for himself, in a weird way...Still, he grinned at what he said, reaching over and poking on his arm. "Well then I'll just have to taste it when I get there and then we'll see." Nodding, he then settled down in his seat.

Pouting back at England when he seemed to deny him, America just hummed a little and shrugged. Mentally of course he was pointing out that body heat plus all of hte blankets stacked on them would work much better, but he said nothing instead. It wasn't just the cold, America had learned to deal with it...

Tossing the bag into the trunk as it was opened, he closed it as he passed by before getting in the passengers seat. Nodding at the suggestion, America got comfortable in his seat before he perked at what England said. "Ah really? Sweet! We should watch some of it while I'm still here, together." Giving the older nation a happy smile, the youngers attention then returned to the street, pausing when he noticed three girls playing with some chalk on the side walk. Well, it was good to see some people here hadn't lost heart...

"Mmnn...Oh yeah, my boss told me that he wanted me to give you something. It's in my bag...It's in an envelope too, any idea what it is?" America prompted, looking at England once again. With the way the world was now, they were both quite a bit more open with eachother on matters such as this. It just gave them something else to talk about.

[Arthur Kirkland]

“The episodes are an hour long and there’s six of them so we might not get them all finished.” England said, but he was pleased to hear America’s enthusiasm. “We can certainly make a good go at it, though, and if we don’t finish it I’ll give it to you to take home.” He promised. It’d be nice to watch it again too, and eve nicer to watch it with America, though he probably wouldn’t admit to that. There was something nice about curling up on the sofa together.

Frowning at the mention of an envelope, England frowned and looked at America. “He didn’t say anything to me.” He admitted, curious. “Let me see when we get home.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I’ve got some paper work that my Boss asked us to go through too, but it shouldn’t take too long. If we can do it tomorrow morning and I can drop it off before he goes, it’d be good.” It was annoying, he was aware, but if they could at least make a show of working they’d get away with having three days mostly to themselves.

The new house was in the middle of the new capital, a new build, obviously, only ten minutes walk from the new parliament building. It was simple, two up, two down, but clean cut and… empty, especially compared to his last house. England had lost so many of the things he’d hoarded over the years. He’d only been able to save a few special things. He had furniture, but the old photos and paintings that covered the walls, the books and ornaments, all of the knickknacks that had filled his shelves and surfaces, were gone. It looked empty. Parking the car in the drive, England let out a sigh, then reached back for his sticks, making sure not to smack America with them as he brought them forward. “Are you all right with your bag?” He asked, as he slid out of the car.

[Alfred Jones]

"That's all? We can get through that easy! No problem at all, man." America nodded with a big smile. It was so funny that England thought that they were going to be doing too much anyway. Shifting on his seat, he rubbed his nose, glancing at the other as he spoke.

"Mm, alright. I've been curious about it the whole ride over!" America huffed, finding his boss rather cruel for doing that to him. The man knew how bad he was with being patient! "Well that shouldn't take long between the two of us, anyway! And when we're done I can just jog it on down." The younger nation stated, smiling brightly at Arthur. Even if the older man did want to get around, it was probably better for him to not do all that much...

America had been to this house a few times, and every time it felt a little stranger. It just didnt feel like it was Englands home, which was always full of various things from the past, and..So many memories. Leaning to the side so England could get his cane, nodding at the question.

"Course I am, Iggy." He smiled, and then got out himself. As soon as the trunk was opened he retrieved the bag then led the way to the door, stopping only to get out of the way and look for the envelope...There really was a lot of random stuff in here for England, from sweets to tea in a large arrangement of gifts for the older nation.

[Arthur Kirkland]

America might have thought that six hours wasn’t that much, but England very rarely sat down in front of the TV for a long period of time. Six hours seemed like a waste of time to him. There were so many other better things that they could be doing! He chuckled fondly to hear that America had been curious about whatever his Boss had sent with him. He wasn’t surprised at all. “You don’t have to jog over, we can both walk over and then go for a walk.” He said. Having America over was one thing, but he didn’t want to spend the whole time being babied. He could still do everything just fine, damnit!

Nodding, he let America take the bag. “I’ve told you before, don’t call me that.” He complained, huffing. He slipped past America to open the door for them, holding it for America, then stripping out of his shoes and hanging his jacket up. “Do you want a drink?” He asked, already limping towards the kitchen so he could check on the stew. He was intending on putting the kettle on anyway. “If you want to take your bag upstairs, go ahead.” He purposely didn’t mention the spare room, remembering what America had asked before about sharing a bed. Well… He’d leave it up to America to decide, then. The spare room had been aired and the sheets changed, but the door to England’s room was open too.

[Alfred Jones]

The younger man just grined at the other, but then hummed at the thought of that. "Hmn...Ok. I'm assuming you have a route in mind then." America warned him, of course teasing again, but he reached up and ruffled Englands hair as he passed. Once inside, he toed off his shoes carefully, and nodded. "Just water's good for now." He called, but he paused to find the envelope. Setting that on the couch, he then headed on upstairs.

It took a moment to decide, but...Well, he gathered courage and just tossed the bag to the side in the older nations room. He'd been wanting to sleep with him again for awhile. Heading down the stairs again, America then joined England in the kitchen, smiling. "Hows the stew?" He asked then lazily leaning on the older nations back gently, just being annoying a bit as a playful gesture.

[Arthur Kirkland]

England frowned a little as he listened to America upstairs, curious as to what he'd do. He glanced up when he heard America go into his room, not sure how he felt about that. Well, he had given him the opportunity, so he could hardly complain. If it was really awful, he'd make America sleep in the spare room tomorrow.

Putting the kettle on, England poured a glass of water for America and set it on the side before preparing a mug for his tea. He made a noise when America leant against him, swatting at him half heartedly. "Get off me, you great brute." He complained, but didn't actually shove him off, instead leaning more on the counter so he could take the weight on his weak legs. "It's not too bad. We can eat now if you're hungry, or if you don't mind waiting half an hour I'll make dumplings to throw in too?" He offered. At least he couldn't really burn stew, though he did occasionally throw some interesting combinations of spices into it. Really, England had never got used to using the damn things, but if he didn't use them things were too bland and if he did... well, they were interesting to say the least.

[Alfred Jones]

England was just lucky they weren't planning on watching any scary movies tonight--THEN it would be a bit terrible for him. Lazily watching his hands over his shoulder, America made a teasing noise while sticking out his tongue at the complaint before he did move back. Snagging the glass, the younger blonde sipped on the water before he considered that...

"Hmn....I think I'd rather eat it now. I am kind of hungry, since I passed on the midflight meal...It looked pretty gross." The stew itself looked...Interesting and he didn't really want to add weird dumplings into the mix as well. Reaching over, he got two bowls out for them, setting them on the counter and then grinned brightly. "Want me to grab it from the oven for you?" It probably was quite a bit of weight for the other to be carrying anyways, and America didn't want him to hurt himself.

[Arthur Kirkland]

Pausing, England considered the offer, and then nodded. "If you wouldn't mind." He said, shifting out of the way so America could get to the oven. He took the bowls and carefully limped over to the table, setting them out and then pulling a trivet out for the stew pot. Heading back into the kitchen, he got cutlery for them and to serve with, as well as the salt and pepper, and just about managed to balance it all in his free hand without dropping everything. When everything was set out, he returned one last time for his tea, but then paused. "Do you want bread or something with it?" He asked, as he came back to America.

Putting his tea down, he started to serve them, giving more to America as he knew his appetite was much larger than his. England ate small, but healthily sized, portions. Unfortunately he also had a tendency to forget to eat these days, and since a lot of his old indulgences had become a lot harder to get hold of, it wasn't surprising that he was thinner than he had been at the beginning of the century. At least he'd also put on some muscle tone, even with his weakness.

"Do you mind if I get that envelope so I can have a quick read through?" He asked, suddenly. He was aware it was rude to read at the table, but it was bugging him, and he was curious to find out what America's boss had sent and not told America about. He couldn't think of what it might be.

[Alfred Jones]

Giving a thumbs up, America got a couple of oven mitts out before he got the door open and got the large pot out. Following the smaller man carefully, he waited until the trivet was down before he set it down there, and headed back, returning the mitts. "Mmm...Nah, I think I'll be good."

Giving England a bright smile, he settled back while he waited for the older to finish serving--At least he had worked on his manners as well, that helped a lot in keeping the peace between them. The question made him blink for a moment, but he nodded. "Yeah, it's no problem with me, you know that. I'll go grab it." And with that he headed out, finding the letter where he had left it, and returned to their supper. Setting it next to his spoon on the table, America then took his own seat and took a spoonful of his food, eating it, but his eyes were on teh letter, of course wondering what it was as well.

Once opened, the envelope first contained a few letters regarding strictly business matters, such as asking if the amount of supplies was good enough, if they could help out any more, etc. However, the next part of the letter of a bit more importance. It was something that would possibly make the two even closer.

[Arthur Kirkland]

Almost telling America to sit back down again, England paused, then let America go and fetch the letter. Actually it was probably a good thing to let him go, as his legs were starting to ache a little. He sat down with a relieved sigh, since America wasn't there to hear it, then carefully balanced his stick against the chair. He waited for America to return, then took the letter from him, curiously staring at it.

"Start eating, I'll join you when I've read this." England said, with a brief smile, before he unfolded the letters inside. The first few he skimmed over; they were just normal and he'd read them properly and reply later. The final one made him pause, though, and he bit his lip, before rereading it, not wanting to have misunderstood anything in it. Then he looked at America, taking the chance to take him in. The letter didn't quite propose a marriage, but it did propose strengthening their bond. Forming a coalition and allowing America to build a base in England, and giving England access to some of America's resources. America's Boss referred to all the times that they'd fought together before, to their 'Special Relationship'; words that hadn't been used in a long time. England's stomach curled uneasily, torn. On one hand, the deal was very beneficial to his people, but on the other it would anger a lot of the international community. And on a more personal level he was unsure too.

"I think you need to take a look at this." He said, quietly, handing the letter over so America could see it. It seemed strange that his Boss hadn't discussed it with him before. Perhaps he was worried America wouldn't like the idea? They would be closer than they had been since America had been his colony, after all.

[Alfred Jones]

Smiling, America just nodded at the other saying that and dug in. Well...It was one of the older nations better stews, at least. When England said that though, he paused, swallowing what he was eating before setting the spoon down and accepting the letter. Well it started out pleasant, what was the iss--....Oh..Staring intently for a moment, his body seemed to kind of give out, and it flopped against the back of the chair.

America read it twice over to make sure he wasn't just imagining this, and then he looked up at England. What had happened was most liekly he was trying to get England and his boss on board before proposing it to his own country first. Well...It would be a little nice. It mostly benefited them both, and the only problem with it that he could se would be the international issues...Breathing out, he read it over once more before he offered it back to England.

"...Wow." America finally managed to get out. "...England, what do you think?" He asked then, looking up at the older nation, his own face not betraying if he was happy or displeased with the idea.

[Arthur Kirkland]

Hungry now, England started to eat while he watched America reading over the letter. He saw his expression change, and knew he'd read down to the proposal. He could see him reading it over again too and smiled a little at least, amused to see somewhat of a serious expression on America's face. He'd noticed plenty of times before, but had only recently allowed himself to admit it; it made him look rather handsome.

He was surprised that America managed to keep his reaction hidden when he finally looked up from the paper, though, and England finished his mouthful, giving himself a chance to think. "I think it's a very generous offer." After all, immediately it would benefit the UK a lot more than America, and it would continue to do so unless war broke out, which England hoped it wouldn't. "We'd have to arrange a meeting to discuss it properly with our bosses, though. It's been a long time since I've been that involved with anyone." A very long time. Not since he'd returned Hong Kong to China.

Breaking his business-like facade, England leant in a little, and cautiously reached out to brush his hand over America's, in a more intimate gesture. "I have to say, though, it'd be nice to be closer to you." He admitted, obviously not speaking about politics any more. He offered a little smile. "Maybe you'd be able to come and visit more often and we could finish watching the series together." He paused, then added, "or I might even be able to come out to see you."

[Alfred Jones]

Lightly nodding, America shifted as the older Nation spoke, considering this. And that was true, after their special relationship had ended, England seemed to kind of revert back to his isolation, the silly thing he was. Once again he nodded, but he blinked lightly when he felt the hand over his, and surprisingly that faintly broke it enough to allow a light flush.

"..Yeah, I'd really like that aspect too. It'd be nice to spend more time with you, since it's getting harder and harder...Maybe you could come with me to visit other countries when we help them out too." He pointed out, giving a small smile before his hand turned, lightly stroking his finger tips on his palm.

"It'd make me really happy to see you so much though...And, I know it'd be helping you out much more than us, but I'm okay with that. I mean, you have had it pretty bad these past decades." America pointed out, continuing the faint stroking, pausing only to softly rub on a callouse that wouldnt fade. "So it makes me happy to be able to do more to help you too.Besides, we're friends, right..?" He stated, giving a smile that could only be defined as heroic.

[Arthur Kirkland]

Smiling softly as he noticed the blush, England shifted to squeeze America's hand softly, reassuring both the younger Nation and himself about the touch. "That'd be nice. It'd be nice to see Canada again too. And, well, anyone except for France." He chuckled fondly. France wasn't so bad most of the time these days, but England saw rather too much of him, since he was still too close for comfort. He blushed a little at that gentle touch from America. it was a little sensitive, actually, even on the rough, calloused surface of his hand. They never had recovered from hundreds of years of hard work: there were scars from archery, from sword fighting, from rope burns there.

"We could probably do most of the building work." England said, quickly, not wanting it to seem like he just wanted America's money. "And of course we'd offer up our resources to you too." What little they had. England smiled at America, but then it suddenly fell and he looked away. "It'd have to pass through parliament, though, so there's no point getting too excited about it. Wouldn't it have to pass through your government too?"

Taking his hand back, England took another spoonful of stew. "We can at least get our Bosses to talk about it between now and then." Hopefully it wouldn't pass out to the general press so they could discuss the specifics without people hounding on the door. England didn't even want to think about what the international reaction would be. Hopefully the other Nations would understand and try and calm it down a little but... people had been changing recently.

Folding up the letters and putting them back in the envelope for now, England decided that that was enough worrying about that for tonight. "How's the stew? I put in more potatoes this time, you said you liked them." He said, looking at America. He was eating it without complaint, so it couldn't be too bad!

[Alfred Jones]

The comment of course just made America chuckle, leaning back in his chair. Well if England liked the idea, he had nothing against it. The other mans blush of course made his head cock to the side slightly, but he didn't really connect that to the touches he was giving him softly. The offer then made him hum, but nodded a bit. "Yeah that'd probably at least have the public seeing it as a bit more..fair, I guess..."

Letting the older nation have his hand back, he stirred the food in his bowl as he nodded, but then smiled. "Well my boss will be glad that you're on board with the idea at least, so all that's really left is your government to approve the idea, I guess." Taking a bite of his stew then, he blinked at the question before giving him a smile and swallowing.

"It's pretty good, actually. It's tasty, and I guess the spices you used this time weren't too bad." America stated, smiling a bit in amusement. "The potatoes are good too, not too mushy." The meat was slightly dry and a bit burnt, but the soups broth helped with that and it wasn't noticeable. "We'll probably just get through one episode tonight of that show, right?"

America knew he was tired, he also knew that England enjoyed sleep, especially in his old age. However...It made him a bit happy, that they were staying up and watching a show together. It was kind of like when they were a bit youngerand when things were, well, basically better.