A/N: This is my crack. It is UsUk. I wanted to do something with female England and a jocktastical male America. If they are OOC, I don't care. I wrote this in five minutes and America would totally follow the whole "pick on the girl you like" ideals that little kids seem to have. Enjoy…or don't. Read and review. This is a oneshot unless people want more.

There he was again. The school's stereotypical golden boy, Alfred F. Jones, was strolling along the shelves. And everyone who knew (personally at least) the America, at least knew his position on studying. 'You made need to study but I as the hero don't need to!'

So the fact he was browsing the library, staring with (such cute) intensity at the titles, was concerning to one Alice Kirkland, Library Assistant extrodinar. She wasn't against it but the few classes and times she had talked to the younger teen had proven he was reckless and loud and DID NOT belong in here. But apparently Alfred had found what he was searching for, as within a few seconds he approached (nay, sauntered) the desk acting like he owned the place.

"Hey Four-Eyes," he cheerfully chirped, as he set the book down on the desk. He smiled at her like he had just come up with the most original insult ever. Alice ignored pointing out the obvious fact that he too wore glasses, refusing to sink to his level of judging people on their looks; she went for the attack on his most lacking aspect: intelligence.

Alice pointedly looked at the book then back up at him, licking her lips slightly as their eyes meet. "You can read? Impressive considering all the tackles you do in that primitive form of rugby. Are you sure you do not need help pronouncing some of these big words?" She emphasized the last two words, not noticing how flustered her poor victim had gotten.

"No ma'am," Alfred replied in a heavy southern drawl, unique to his homeland of America, "I sure don't. But it wouldn't kill for you to learn the word hairdresser." He reached over the counter and tugged on one of her long pigtails, making her wince slightly at the jolt of pain going to her scalp. She hurriedly scanned the book and slammed it into his chest, satisfied by the slight "oomph!" of surprise he let out.

"Get out please. As much as I would love to chat-," she was interrupted by him leaning over the desk again and lightly pulling on her hair, this time more gentle than his first attempt.

"No wonder you ain't so popular 'round here," he said, not insulting as much as teasing. Alice didn't see it that way; she turned away and pouted.

"Ain't is not a word and if you do not mind, I need to get back to work. Good day Mr. Jones," she replied hurriedly, licking over her lips as they grew drier at the reminder of her lack of popularity.

She once again did not notice the flushed face at her innocent movement of her tongue, but was drawn out of her small panic attack by a very hurried "Thanksma'!", the lazy drawl he had sending a shiver of dread (definitely not...pleasure) down her spine.

****UsUk UsUk****

The next day, when Alice got to the library, the book was in the turn in box. She laughed quietly before talking out loud. "It seems as if it really was too hard for the lad!" She picked it up and frowned when she noticed that the book crinkled on the back cover.

"What? He got so angry at his lack off...comprehension...that he...," she had turned over the book mid way through her sentence to examine it. Frankly what was there was rather surprising; it wasn't a ripped off back cover, but a note. A note that was tapped to the back multiple times as if to assure the sender (God, why did she make it out to be anonymous? She knew it was Alfred!) that it was attached. As she finished the letter she grew red from anger (definitely anger! Because her stomach was all fluttery and quivering as well).

Alice,

Do you know how I can contact Sherlock Holmes? Because I need to solve the mystery of how to win your heart~

-Alfred