Gift fic for Fire Bear1! You're the best, dear. Thank you so much for all of your extremely helpful reviews. Here, have some zombies and unresolved sexual tension as a thank-you present!

The blond teenager sauntered along the deserted grocery store aisle, keeping his shotgun at the ready and his ears perked for the sound of shuffling footsteps. In an earlier life the aisle had stored "Cookies and Crackers" according to the signs still hanging from the ceiling. Now there was nothing left but wrappers and a few crumbs. He still glanced up and down the shelves, hoping against hope to find that sweet, sugary goodness he had been desperately craving for weeks. Alas, it wasn't to be. They were all out of twinkies.

Based on the annoyed huffs he could hear from the other side of the store, it sounded like his partner's luck wasn't any better. Still, although the front of the store was cleaned out, the teen wasn't quite ready to give up hope. "Hey, England! I'm going to check the back for twinkies, okay?" he called.

"Fine. See if they have any rum!" the other man replied.

Rum and twinkies would make one hell of a meal the teen thought to himself with a grin as he strode to the back of the desolate store. He found the door and pushed it open without a second thought, only to gasp in surprise when he discovered that he wasn't alone. Two girls stood huddled together in the center of the break room. One was young, with pale blond hair, and she carefully clutched a bandaged arm to her chest. The other was older and brunette, with an anxious frown plastered on her face. The older one whirled around with a startled, suspicious expression.

Recovering from his surprise, the teen strapped his shotgun onto his back and lifted up his hands to show that they were empty. "Uh, hi! Are you okay?"

"No!" the brunette's face fell and she barely choked back a sob. "My sister was bitten!"

"Shit. Are you sure?" the teenager asked, glancing desperately between the two. He felt a heavy weight settle in his stomach. He liked running into other humans, because it was nice to remember that there were other people in the world, but he could never stand to see them suffer.

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here," the blond girl protested, the determination in her voice belied by the fear in her eyes.

The older one ducked her head and turned to rest a comforting hand on her sister's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Lili. You've been so brave." She hugged her sister. After a tender moment, she turned to face the teenager who was still standing awkwardly by the door. "Can you help us?" she asked. "We've already said goodbye, but we didn't have a gun."

"A gun, why would you need...?" his face twisted in horror and he took a step back, violently shaking his head. "No! No, no, no!"

"Please, I don't want to be a monster," Lili said, her voice quivering in a heart-breaking manner.

The teen shook his head again. There was no way he could kill a 12-year-old girl! He heard footsteps draw closer and breathed a sigh of relief. Even if he didn't know what to do, the other man he was traveling with would definitely have an answer. He was smart like that. That was probably why they were both still alive

"America! Are you done looking for the bloody twinkies?" the other man's voice grew louder. "I've checked the liquor aisle and... who are they?" he demanded, immediately raising his handgun and glaring at the two girls distrustfully as soon as he stepped into the room.

'America' knew that 'England' was suspicious of everyone (hence the silly nicknames), but threatening to kill a little girl was a bit much even for him. Making a disapproving noise, the teenager stepped over and pushed down the gun so that it was pointing at the ground. "Geez, England. Stop that. They're sisters. The little one's been bit," he explained, adding the final part in a whisper.

England immediately lifted the gun again, targeting Lili. "Well, there's only one thing to do for her now."

"Hey, you can't just shoot her!" America shouted. Shocked and appalled, he glared and stepped between him and the girl, and grabbed the gun out of England's hands.

"Shooting her is a kindness. Now give me back my gun."

"No, I'm not going to let you murder her in front of her sister."

"America, do you remember Rule One? It was my only rule, and you keep breaking it!"

As much as he wanted to keep arguing, America tensed when he felt the barrel of a gun press against his back.

"Don't move," the brunette warned, "or the boy toy gets it."

"I'm not a boy toy!" the teenager protested. "We're not a couple!"

"Is that honestly your biggest concern right now?" she retorted, pushing the gun into his back.

"You're not in a position to be making demands," England replied with a smirk on his face. America didn't want to turn his head to look, but he could guess where England was pointing his gun. "I could kill your sister. And I would be doing the world a favor."

"Well, I could kill your boy toy," Liz hissed.

"I'm not a boy toy!"

"Shall we see who pulls the trigger faster?" England asked.

The brunette glared, but it was obvious to everyone that they were at an impasse. Still, as long as they were going to be standing around pointing guns at each other, she felt like she might as well get some of her questions answered. "Why did you call him 'England'?"

"Because he's British."

"English," came the crisp correction.

"Whatever, dude."

"Doesn't he have a name?" she asked.

Trying not to move very much, America jerked his head slightly towards England. "It was his idea not to use our real names. You know, as a way to keep things impersonal in case either of us gets bit."

"So, 'England,' how's the name thing working for you?" the brunette teased with a smirk.

He glared. "It's working just fine."

They stared at each other in sullen silence as the brunette tried to work out a way to end the impasse without risking Lili's life. She could see that England was making the same calculations. The fierce protectiveness in his eyes would have been sweet if it wasn't ruining her plans.

"Liz, do you hear that?" Lili whispered, a genuine tremble of fear in her voice. They all went silent and listened. The sounds of dragging, shuffling footsteps were coming closer. It seemed that their loud argument had drawn attention.

"Zombie truce," Liz offered.

England scowled and shook his head, keeping his gun pointed at the young girl. "I'm not falling for your tricks, woman. Those are probably just more of your marauding band of fraudsters."

"It's not a trick! You're in my line of fire!"

"Watch out!" America cried as the first zombie burst into the back room. Ignoring the gun pressed against his back, he leapt forward and pulled England to the ground.

Above their heads, Liz fired her pistol at the zombie, knocking the undead creature back into the crowd of its fellow zombies. Lili grabbed her own scope rifle from its hiding place. She carefully aimed and took down two zombies with one shot. Taking advantage of the break in fire, England and America scrambled away from the doorway. Once they reached the safety of the center of the room, England whirled around and fired at the next zombie, giving America time to aim his shotgun. He began pelting the zombies with scattershot, knocking the whole group back. By unspoken agreement, the four humans formed a firing line facing the doorway. Determination in every face, they kept firing until the last of the zombies was dead and all of the bodies had stopped twitching on the blood-soaked floor.

"Is that all of them?" America asked, his shotgun aimed at the doorway. They waited a few minutes, then relaxed as silence filled the abandoned grocery store. "You're a real good shot," he complimented Lili.

She smiled. "Thanks, my brother taught me. We're trying to find him and his friend."

"I'm hoping to find my brother too," the teenager replied, before glancing down at the bite mark on her arm. "Shit, I'm so sorry."

To his surprise, the girl laughed and wiped away the blood. "Oh, don't worry about that. That's just raspberry jam."

America cocked his head to the side. "But why pretend that you were bit?"

"They ask unsuspecting rubes for their guns and then, once their victims are unarmed, steal everything they own," England interjected, glaring at the two women.

Liz glared back. "I'm just taking from them before they can take from us. And I promise you, they wouldn't stop at taking food and guns."

"Guys, please, no more fighting," America said, stepping between them. "The real enemies are out there, and they want to eat our brains." England and Liz eyed each other warily, but nodded and warily put away their guns.

"I can't imagine why they'd want your brains," England groused, his expression the long-suffering look of a man forced to put up with a clueless, oblivious, overly trusting American teenager. But the words had no real bite and he couldn't hide the slight fondness in his eyes.

The brunette grinned at America. "You know, kid, I think there's someone in here who wants to eat you, but probably not your brains." She resisted the urge to pinch the teenager's cheeks as he just blinked in confusion. Instead she grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer. "Come with me just a second, there's something you should have."

"Absolutely not," England protested. "Rule number one, America!"

America glanced between them. He gave England an apologetic smile and followed Liz to the door. "I think this is important. Sorry, I'll be back."

"Rule number one: don't be an idiot!" England called, giving Liz one final glare.

Pausing in the doorway, she smiled back at England and winked. "Relax. You have my sister as a hostage. We'll be back in a tick."

Carefully stepping over the zombies' bodies, she led the American teenager to the pharmacy section of the store. As she had hoped, there were still lube and a few packages of condoms. It seemed that safe sex wasn't the top priority of survivors after the zombie apocalypse. While America blushed furiously, Liz checked the expiration dates. She picked an unexpired box of condoms and a bottle of lube and stashed them into the knapsack on America's back.

"Uh, I'm sorry, you're really pretty, but you're n-not my type," he stuttered.

She grinned. "Oh, I can see that. Your type is a bit more grouchy and masculine. I just want you two to be prepared, and I thought that your friend would reject my attempt to be helpful. I know his type too and he's going to keep denying everything until he starts kissing you."

America gulped, his cheeks burning bright as he stared at the floor. "Do you really think so?" he asked in a nervous whisper.

"Trust me," she patted him on the shoulder and smiled. "You were searching for twinkies earlier, right?"

He sighed. "Yeah, they're kind of hard to find." Everyone knew that twinkies were a compact, high-calorie food source that lasted nearly forever, so they were always the first foods scavenged at any grocery store.

She leaned closer and whispered into his ear, "Look on the bright side. You can have something delicious and cream-filled whenever you want." With a warm chuckle, she spun on her heels and returned to the back room.

England gave them a suspicious look as they returned, but Liz noticed the spark of relief in his eyes as soon as America entered his view. "We should be going," he said gruffly, lifting up the bags of non-food supplies the two men had scavenged from the nearly empty store.

America nodded and took his share of the bags. He gave the two women a smile and a wave. "Take care!" he called. "And good luck finding your brother."

Liz waited until they were nearly out of the store before she shouted, "England! You'd better get a taste for yourself before the zombies beat you to it!" She grinned, thoroughly enjoying the way they hastily looked away from each other and blushed. Matchmaking had been her favorite hobby before the zombie virus struck, and it was nice to have a chance to try to bring people together, even in a world filled with brain-eating monstrosities. She liked to enjoy the simple pleasures in life.

"Should we follow them and plan an ambush?" Lili asked sweetly as soon as the two men were completely out of earshot.

"Nah, not these two. They were helpful, and I'd hate for the guy to get killed before he finally eats his twink."

A/N

Twink: "The stereotypical twink is 18-22, slender with little or no body hair, often blonde, and is not particularly intelligent."