The young man balanced his generation four iPhone between his shoulder and his ear, juggling two different cans of tomato sauce in each hand, a foot placed securely on the bottom grate of his shopping cart to keep it from rolling down the isle. A puff of air was sent unceremoniously through his blonde bangs in boredom.

"In all due respect, ma'am, does it really matter if it's tomato sauce or tomato paste?" he asked.

The woman on the other end of the line tutted. "Yes Alfred, it does. Paste is thicker than sauce."

"And we need it to be thick?"

"Yes. If it's too thin it will slide right off the meatloaf and in that case, we might as well not put anything on it at all."

Alfred, also known as the United States of America to those who knew him best, sighed and threw the appropriate can into his quickly filling cart. "And you're making meatloaf why again now?"

America could almost hear the First Lady straightening her posture self consciously in regards to his now frequent question. "Because Arthur is visiting."

The boy smirked. "And you think he's dreamy."

"He is coming to stay with us for a few days before the conference and it is the least I can do to make him feel welcome." America chuckled at her defensiveness and unceremoniously tossed a few onions into a bag. "Besides, Alfred, the way into a man's heart is his stomach."

America blushed lightly, knowing where this was going. "R-really now, Mrs. President?" he asked with a annoyingly traitorous nervous chuckle. "You're gonna cheat on the President with the United Kingdom? Isn't that treason or somethin'?"

"Oh sweetheart," she cooed. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, young man."

"Don't call me 'young man', I'm older than you," he grumbled with a pout.

The First Lady chuckled. "I'm just saying that he's a very nice boy."

"And?"

"Aaaaand maybe Florida needs a little bit of a pick-me-up."

"Oh my god, Mrs. President!"

"What? It's no secret that you have a little crush on him. Just make it official!"

America buried his face into his hands, flushing a deep, florescent red. There was no way they were having this conversation. No freaking way. Why was she doing this to him? Why here? Why now?

He had always been fond of his First Lady. She was a beautiful, loving woman; a school teacher before her husband took office, who even now devoted time and resources to schools all around the country. She was lively and whimsical, obviously the more outgoing one in her marriage, with a love of fantasy and adventure that allowed her to be infinitely more accepting of his true identity than her husband.

But she did have a dark side. Namely a love of sticking her nose into his business. Especially when it involved England.

Like most of his female citizens, his First Lady had become quite taken with the small island nation, falling pray to his accent, gentlemanly mannerisms and boyish good looks. None of which America had ever noticed himself by the way. No matter what the First Lady said.

She had taken to trying to set them up recently, much to his and his boss's horror. A perverse new hobby that typically left him blushing and more than a little uncomfortable, and England baffled and confused. Thank God. The last thing America needed was England figuring out what the First Lady was up to.

Not that it was a big deal or anything. It would only be a big deal if he actually did have a crush on England, and since he very much did not, it was all good. Well, okay, not good because it was still really, really embarrassing and if England ever found out what was going on he would probably die and-

"I do not have a crush on England."

Okay fine, he had a crush on England.

Not like, a big one or anything, mind you. He didn't stay awake at night fantasizing about moonlit dinners and making love in the candlelight or mushy stuff like that. He just liked sneaking looks at him during meetings when he looked kinda nice, or brushing against his arm briefly when they passed each other in the hallway. A little crush, that's all.

"Of course you don't. Hurry with up the groceries would you, dear? Talk to you soon! Bye!"

America hung up his phone and sighed heavily. Maybe it wasn't too late to move the conference to New York.

The ride from the airport to the White House was pretty routine, as far as America was concerned.

"What a twat! I don't look like my ID? Honestly? I'm fairly certain I've looked exactly same for oh, roughly a few millennia now, but what do I know?"

America chuckled at the ranting, irate nation in the passenger seat. "Obviously you're too old for your ID. Maybe it's time to talk to someone to get that age of yours bumped up a few years?"

"Oh, ha ha." England rolled his eyes. "I am just as twenty three as I was a hundred years ago." America scoffed.

"Man, I can't wait until I grow a few more years. I can't even drink in myself!" he exclaimed. "I had to get a fake ID for my fake ID."

The older nation chuckled a little at that, offering a consoling pat on the knee to the American. America bit his lip as a small tingle traveled down his spine. "Give it time, lad. Lord knows you grow fast enough."

Once through the appropriate security checkpoints, America and England gathered England's luggage and were, not surprisingly, welcomed by the presidential couple at the door.

"Arthur!" the First Lady cried, running out the door and gathering the nation into her arms. "Oh, it's so good to see you, sweetheart!"

"It's a pleasure to see you as well, Mrs. President," England squeaked, breathing gratefully when he was finally released. He straightened his jacket and turned to the other man with a small smile. "Mr. President."

The President smiled back sympathetically and shook his hand. "Arthur. Glad you made it in safely. How was the flight?"

"Oh, despite a small mishap at customs, it was fine." As the group headed into the White House, the First Lady slid up to her nation's side as England left to take his things to the guest room he was staying in.

"Arthur is looking well, isn't he, Alfred?"

America juggled the other suitcase in his grip and pointedly adverted his eyes anywhere but the country in question. "He looks okay."

"Oh, I think he looks more than okay. Just look at that cute little tushie!" she chirped.

"Oh my God," America groaned miserably.

The President dropped back and threw an arm around his wife's shoulder with a sigh. "Come on honey, leave him alone. Alfred, take that suitcase up to Arthur's room, would you? He should be up there."

America nodded gratefully. "Will do, Boss. Be right back."

The First Lady beamed, calling "Take your time!" after him as he climbed the stairs.

"So Arthur, how's the family?" the President asked, cutting into his meatloaf.

Arthur swallowed his own bite and dabbed his lips politely with a napkin. "Oh, they're quite well. The kids are busy being newlyweds of course, but it's to be expected. And you? How are the children?"

"Good, good, enjoying summer and being little terrors around the house, as usual." The group laughed. "We sent them off to camp for a few weeks though, so hopefully they'll calm down a bit."

Arthur grinned. "I wish they had summer camps when I was raising colonies, that definitely would have come in handy."

"Aw, come one. I was a perfect little angel!" America laughed, his mouth full of food. England cringed with a smirk.

"You keep telling yourself that."

The group continued eating in comfortable silence, America thanking God above that he had not yet been humiliated. All they had to do was finish with dinner, get through dessert and-

"So Arthur," the First Lady asked far too cooly for comfort. America instantly bristled. His hero senses were telling him this was not going to end well. "How are things for you? Are you...seeing anyone at the moment?"

America slammed his hands onto the table and stood up suddenly. "I AM GOING TO GET SOME MORE MILK!" he practically screamed, drawing everyone's surprised attention. "WOULD ANYONE ELSE LIKE SOME MORE MILK?"

"I'm good."

"No thank you."

"That's quite alright."

The young nation frowned. "Okay. Yeah, be right back." He shuffled into the kitchen, remembering at the last minute to grab his (still full... dammit) cup. Once inside, he stood immediately behind the door, pressing his ear against it in hopes of hearing whatever embarrassment was brewing on the other side.

"I'm sorry ma'am," England was saying. "What was your question?"

"Oh, no worries, sweetheart! Just wondering how your love life is looking these days, if you don't mind me asking."

"Honey, that's not appropriate." Yes, go Boss! America cheered silently.

"Oh no, it's quite alright." Dammit England, stop being so freaking polite. "I'm afraid it's rather nonexistent these days. It's difficult to have a relationship when you're a nation, I'm sure you can imagine."

"Mmm, I bet. Alfred has been painfully single himself for...well...as long as we've known him. You know what? Wouldn't it just be the cutest thing if you two-"

"I AM BACK WITH MILK," America exclaimed, bursting back into the room. Everyone jumped slightly, watching as he marched back to his chair and plopped back down. "Where were we? Oh right, how about that Neil Patrick Harris, huh? What an actor!"

As the President and First Lady exchanged confused glances and shrugs and America returned to shoveling food into his mouth, no one noticed England's eyes narrowing at the younger nation suspiciously.

He was almost in the clear.

Dinner had been finished, dessert had been eaten, dishes had been cleaned and put away, and after seeking refuge (not hiding) in the TV room with a video game or two for a few hours, the rest of the household was finally getting ready for bed. As he peeked around the corner down the hall, America could see that England's bedroom door was open and the light was still on.

"Okay," he whispered to himself. "Just act natural. You did an awesome job of covering up the First Lady's matchmaking attempts. He doesn't suspect a thing, so just walk past his room, get to your room, and close the door before he can say anything. Okay. Good. Casual." He took a deep breath and went for it.

"Oi, America. Could you come here for a moment?"

Crap.

"Uh, sure England. What's up?"

England was tucked halfway into bed, propped up against the headboard, a pair of reading glasses resting on his nose as he worked on what America figured was some of his old man knitting. He waved him over, gesturing to take a seat at the edge of the bed, so America did exactly that. "I need you to help me with something."

America sighed in relief. Helping was good, helping he could do. "Sure, a hero is always ready to help!"

"Yes, yes. Hold your hands out for me, would you?"

"Like this?"

"No, closer together, palms facing each other." America gulped as England reached over and adjusted his hands accordingly. "There. Hold still." He then preceded to swiftly wrap the entire remainder of a ball of yarn around his outstretched fingers.

"Uh, dude, what the heck are you doing?"

England admired his handiwork and pulled a knitting needle out of another package of yarn. "Oh, the blasted ball kept rolling away from me. Don't fret, I only need this color for a few more rows."

America pouted. Watching England knit was exactly as boring as he thought it would be. Even if he did look kinda cute all concentrated like that. "Whatcha making?"

"A scarf."

"In July?"

England scoffed. "By the time I'm done with it, it will be plenty cold enough to wear it." England watched America nod absentmindedly out of the corner of his eye. He smirked. "America."

"Hm?"

"Did you happen to notice that your First Lady seemed a little...different today?

America froze. God, he hoped he wasn't blushing or something stupid like that. "No?"

"Oh. That is strange, isn't it?" England replied calmly, never once taking his eyes off his knitting. "Because she seemed very different to me. Particularly interested in my love life, specifically."

"Yeah?" America squeaked, "I didn't notice that at all!"

"Mmm. My mistake then."

The younger nation breathed a sigh of relief. Oh man, that had been a close one. Imagine how stupid he would have looked if England really had caught on!

"Oh America, one more thing."

"'Sup?" Suddenly, America was roughly pulled forward by the yarn around his hands until he was eye to eye with England, their faces mere centimeters apart from each other. He gulped audibly, England's eyes burning intensely into his own.

"You listen, and you listen good, you twit," he seethed. "If you dare try to interrupt and consequently ruin your First Lady's matchmaking again tomorrow, I promise you, you will be the first nation to walk on Mars and you will not be using a spaceship to get there. Do I make myself clear?"

America nodded vigorously. "Crystal."

"Good." England slackened his hold on the yarn, allowing America to back off again frightfully, his large eyes never straying from the older nation's (way, way too calm!) face. With a quick shuffling of his fingers, he tied off a knot in his yarn and snipped America free from his confines. "There, that's done. Thank you, lad. Off to bed with you, now."

He nodded again, standing straight up and marching stiffly to the door. He turned around for a moment, opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it shut and sprinted from the room instead. England smiled proudly to himself, blushing ever so lightly as he packed away his knitting and prepared for what was sure to be a peaceful nights sleep.

America flopped down onto his bed, his eyes focused contemplatively on his ceiling. After a minute or so, he found himself smiling, first a little, then a little bit more until it was a full fledged grin.

The First Lady was still crazy, he reasoned with himself, but hey...

She obviously had a good taste in men.

This came from a sudden thought I had about AU stories where the parents aren't supportive of the guys being gay, and I started thinking to myself what if they were not only supportive, but REALLY supportive. So I got the bug to write it, but I'm too scared to do AUs so had to figure out how I was going to do this...Cue the First Lady! XD She was absolutely perfect because this was totally something she would do. I love this woman. XD

Hope you enjoyed! And that you don't mind me spamming the world with Presidential Family fics, but I just love them all so much! If you are tired of them, let me know and I'll try to hold off. XD Thanks a bunch and don't forget to review! They always brighten my day!