Disclaimer: Hetalia and Avengers and its characters do not belong to me - unfortunately - they belong to their respective creators/owners.
Author Note: I've been wanting to do a crossover between two of my favorite fandoms, but didn't have much motivation to write it until now. Enjoy and leave feedback!

Germany looked at his watch again as he entered the elevator on the parking level of the building that would house their yearly World Meeting. He was early (as always and as expected), having left his hotel in New York with ample time, knowing how bad traffic can be in this city – especially with 60+ nations in attendance and trying to make their own way to the location. Because he did have enough time to himself, he had decided to park himself instead of allowing the valet at the front of the building to do it; he was used to being self-sufficient, anyway, and being early meant he didn't have to search long for a good spot in the underground parking lot. He pushed the button for the lobby floor.

"Wait! Hold the elevator, please!"

Surprised at another nation being there early, Germany quickly pushed the 'hold' button. The person who jogged into the elevator, however, was human. The blond human adjusted his coat lapels before turning to Germany with a grateful smile.

"Thanks for that. I'd rather not be late by having to take the stairs." He held out his hand toward Germany. "Steve Rogers."

Most likely an American, by his looks and speech. Germany grasped the other man's hand and gave out his usual human alias. "Ludwig Beilschmidt. Pleasure to meet you."

Steve blinked in interest. "Beilschmidt," he said, testing the name. "Do you hail from Germany?"

"Ja, exactly. I am here for business," he informed, knowing the question would most likely be asked at some point anyway.

Anything Steve might have said was cut off by the elevator reaching the lobby of the building. Germany adjusted his grip on his briefcase as the doors slid open. He nodded good bye to the American and made his way to the elevator which would take him to the rest of the building.

"I think we're going the same way," his passenger's voice from before commented as they both made their way into the same elevator.

Germany merely nodded and slid to the side in the next elevator to accommodate the other man. Steve wound up being next to the buttons and turned to him with the same polite smile as before.

"Which floor?"

Germany barely hesitated. "55th."

The other man's blue eyes widened at the high-security number but pressed it without comment, pushing the 39th floor for himself. They then got comfortable, Steve adopting a position similar to a soldier's parade rest. Sadly, the building itself was old so the newly-installed technology within it did not function well. Because of that, reaching floor 19 was a long process and ample time for silence to become slightly unnerving.

"So," Steve started, at parade rest and eyes remaining nonchalantly fixed in front, "business?"

Germany, who had been in plenty enough situations where interrogations began rough and violent, couldn't help but smile at the attempt. "Classified."

"Oh, that sort of business."

"Ja."

The man tilted his head slightly in thought. "I've been to Germany a couple of times, though not recently. Is Bergen-Belsen open to tourists?"

Germany nodded, eyes turning to look at the reflective elevator doors. "The memorial is open to everyone. I recommend it if you value history...or if you simply wish to pay respects," he said, thinking of the former camp. "There is also Auschwitz."

Steve hummed. "I've visited there before. Besides, I read that Anne Frank went to Belsen."

"That she did. You have an interest in Anne Frank's accounts?"

"I have an interest in Germany-"

Germany held back a twitch at that sentence. At least he wasn't hearing that line from someone like France. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"-and it's nice to visit when everything is peaceful. Wartime can really change a beautiful country."

Germany sucked in air the wrong way and immediately began to cough. His passenger stared at him with wide eyes as he helpfully patted him on the back.

"Are you alright, mister Beilschmidt?"

"F-Fine, fine," he coughed and got his breathing on track. Germany sighed. "Sorry for that. ...And it's Ludwig, please."

"Sure thing."

Germany's ease which he felt as the two were talking about his home had disappeared and he now felt slightly uncomfortable again. He stared forward. Steve seemed to sense something about his emotions because he turned to look forward without comment. The 29th floor came and went with no one getting in. It wasn't until the elevator had ascended past the 34th floor that Germany spoke again.

"You may not wish to answer; after all, it is none of my business. Are you, too, here for work?"

Steve smiled, good mood never gone away. "Pretty much, but this is more of a delivery. A...friend," the man hesitated on the word, "of mine insisted I bring something to him that he forgot this morning."

"A good friend you are."

Steve's smile became strained, and he had a sadness in his eyes as he turned back to the doors. "I try."

Silence again. Germany shifted. He was never taking the elevators in America ever again. The American man's floor couldn't arrive quickly enough (in Germany's opinion). Steve turned to him, mood back to normal, as he began to exit.

"It was nice to meet you, mister Ludwig."

"Just Ludwig. And you, mister Rogers."

"Just Steve. Good luck with your business."

"Danke. You, too."

The doors closed on the man, and Germany was once again alone. He sighed in relief. That was one of the more awkward elevator rides he had ever had. He quickly straightened his overcoat when his floor approached, and he exited with haste. Making it to the assigned Meeting room, he was surprised to see America already there, head down on the wood from his position at the head of the table. Germany let the door close shut behind him and set his briefcase down at his assigned seat.

"Alfred?"

America slowly lifted his gaze to stare blearily at the German. "Yo, dude..."

"I didn't expect to see you here this early," Germany admitted.

America groaned. "Boss-man made me get up early to greet everyone since I'm hostin'."

"And a wunderbar greeting you've given me so far." Though Germany could care less, having experienced worse greetings before.

America merely flapped his hand dismissively and used his other to prop up his head. "I'd rather be downstairs than up here," he complained.

"I think many of us would rather be anywhere than here. ...Why only downstairs?"

"Because, dude, some of the most awesome superheroes – besides me – are coming here."

Germany only half-listened as he opened his briefcase and began to organize his papers for his presentation. "Why?"

"Havin' their own meeting and such." America sighed and closed his eyes, tiredly, and whined. "And I bet my main man Cap'in' Steve is here, too..."

Hands froze and Germany blinked in sudden realization. The words triggered his memory. His mouth fell slightly open. Captain America. Steve Rogers. Captain Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers, the WWII American soldier from the 40s whose name was on the lips of all his superiors during that time. The very man in the elevator. Memories from the elevator blurred in his embarrassment.

Oh, Scheiße.

His head lowered in mortification, a blush on his cheeks.

"What," America laughed, now intrigued, demanding an explanation for this reaction. "Promise not to tease you (much)."

It was Germany's turn to flap his hand at America. "Nein. I'd rather not; it's not important."

He'd never relate to anyone how the soldier that fought against Germany's own soldiers in World War II had said he's interested in him and called him beautiful.

Some things just needed to be kept secret. Very...very secret.

TBC...

Post Script - Thanks to all of you who reviewed and favorited/followed. I love reading what you have to say about the chapter. And, because you want more, this will now be a multi-chapter fic, though I'm not sure how long it will continue.