Note: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters, nor the photo used for cover art. All rights to their proper owners please!

How did he end up here you ask? Hell if he knew, one minute he was goofing off with his friends in the bar, the next he was waking up in a prison cell. Now, this might have been slightly easier for the man to piece together if it weren't for the fact that he wasn't the only one in his designated cell.

And he didn't recognize the other man he was with at all.

"Well," Alfred whispered, "this is a nice change of pace." Rubbing at his eyes to brush away any remnants of sleep, he heard a clearly accented voice from the other side of the cell.

"I don't understand how you could consider this a nice change of pace." Alfred turned to face the man who had spoken.

"Sarcasm, dude." He smiled in an attempt to smooth over whatever had ruffled the man's feathers, using the opportunity to give his companion a once over.

The man had bottle-green eyes and hair as blond as Alfred's. He was definitely shorter than Alfred, however he clearly didn't seem too worried about this fact, his fuming nature giving off a permanently peeved nature. He wore a blue jacket and black pants, a white dress shirt with a black tie making him seem far too professional to be locked up in a jail cell at-shit what time was it again?

"This hardly seems the time to be joking, we're locked in a prison cell, the guard's are oblivious to everything that happens, and no matter how many times I ask they won't let me call my transportation to see why the hell I'm still here." The man huffed and leaned back against the wall behind him.

"Wow, that sounds like you have awful luck, dude."

"Stop calling me that!" the man snapped at Alfred.

"What, dude?" Alfred asked, slightly confused as to why the man in front of him was so opposed to such a casual name.

"What else you bloody buffoon?" Fighting the urge to resort to childish name-calling, Alfred walked over and sat on the bench next to him.

"Well if you told me your name I wouldn't have to call you that."

"Will you be quiet if I do?" the man demanded.

"No promises man, just trying to create a conversation that isn't insulting." Alfred watched the man mull over his options, obviously torn between ignoring him and praying for the least annoying conversation that would follow or telling him what Alfred wanted to know and hoping he would shut up. Luckily for Alfred, the man took the slightly more practical route and told Alfred his name.

"Arthur Kirkland. And you are?"

"Alfred Jones, any idea what time it is Captain Kirk?"

"It's just past 3 am, and never call me that again."

"Is Artie okay then?"

"If you have a death wish."

"What about Iggy?"

"Where the bloody hell do you get Iggy from Arthur?" Arthur gave him an incredulous look.

"Nowhere in particular, you just kinda remind me of an igloo. All cold and foreboding, but I bet that you're actually secretly very warm on the inside."

"What the bloody hell are you rambling on about now you uneducated twat?" Alfred laughed at the Arthur's slight blush and leaned back against the cool, brick wall, closing his eyes for just a moment.

"Hey Arthur, why are you in here?" he could almost hear the smaller man resisting the urge to respond sarcastically.

"Because of my stupid ex." Peering with just one eye, Alfred looked at him.

"Something they did or something you did?"

"None of your concern. What about you? They wouldn't just throw you in here for no good reason, would they?" Arthur's snippy reply reminded Alfred that he had only just met the man and that some things would be too personal to discuss within half an hour of meeting someone.

Not that he would know, he was almost obnoxiously open to people, keeping few things solely to himself. He had often been warned by his family that not all people are willing to share their life stories right away and many are discouraged by people that did.

"Honestly, I can't remember. It's all a bit of a blur after me and my friends started hanging out." Arthur snorted.

"That explains it, a group of college boys hanging out at a bar, which I'm assuming is where you went, what else would happen except being held for bail? I'm honestly surprised I can't find other buffoons in the cell, I thought you travelled in packs?" As much as Alfred wanted to stick up for his friends and fight against the stereotype that Arthur was shoving onto him and his group, Alfred didn't get a chance to because right at that moment the door opened and a familiar face walked in with a guard.

"Hey Matt, come to pick me up?" He said turning towards the man, Alfred's brother sighed.

Alfred's brother had the same blond hair and a similar cowlick (albeit a much curlier one), but that was where the similarities ended. Where Alfred tended to stick to a wardrobe of nerdy t-shirts and jeans his brother wore plaid almost every day, often fiddling with a small polar bear keychain he had had on his keychain since he was in high school. Mathew was a much more reserved individual with violet eyes and pale skin, often hunched over slightly, causing others to forget how tall he actually was.

"What did you do this time Alfred?" Laughing, he stood up to cross the cell floor.

"Honestly, I can't remember. I was hanging out with Gilbert and Mathias in the bar and then I woke up here." Mathew sighed again.

"That sounds about right, last I heard you guys were going to try and find fireworks."

"And you let us?" Alfred asked his brother slightly offended by both his lack of judgment and his brother's carelessness.

"I figured you'd be arrested before you could do anything. And look, I was right, now let's go." Alfred turned to give one last wave at Arthur but found that the man had closed his eyes and had begun ignoring the environment around him. Sighing softly, Alfred followed his brother out of the room.