Author's Notes: Posting Christmas on Halloween is a little early, but this was actually written for the USUK holiday exchange awhile back. Thus, it is completely unrepentant FLUFF. I don't own Hetalia, but I do think US & UK have a Very Special Relationship.

Chapter 1 - Miss You Most

o/~ The fire is burning
The room's all aglow
Outside the December wind blows
Away in the distance
The carolers sing in the snow
Everybody's laughing
The world is celebrating
And everyone's so happy
Except for me tonight~/o

It was raining.

Not an entirely unsurprising thing for London, even with winter's approach, England thought to himself as he filled the kettle with warm water and set it on the stove. Even though he was used to the weather, for some reason it felt a little harsher today than usual. Maybe it was because he hadn't slept well last night. Maybe he had too much on his mind. Lately. For awhile now.

The wind rattled the windows once as he shuffled into the next room, seating himself in his favorite chair with the overly-worn pea green cushions, right next to the warm and steady fire. He sighed as he picked his day planner up off of the coffee table.

December1. I should retrieve the holiday boxes from the attic today. I might need to replace a few bulbs before the lights go up. England's decorations were old, traditional and treasured, simple but elegant. Unlike someone else he knew. "I'd wager that fool's house is already over-loaded with blinking lights, neon signs and inflatable reindeer, despite the economic distress…" the nation muttered to himself as he crossed items off of his "To Do" list. Cards,gifts… so many traditions, so little time… England's mind drifted, as it always seemed to when he thought about the state of world affairs, both public and private.

It was a moment of inner struggle before he could admit to himself that he'd been worried about America, even amidst all of the chaos and strife going on around the world. There didn't seem to be any massive Christmas party in the works this year and the weight on his shoulders seemed… heavier than usual lately, though he tried never to show it… optimistic and idealistic… "But what would the world do without its hero to look up to," he snickered sarcastically before whipping his head back and forth to glance into the kitchen and the front entryway, making extra certain that no one was around to overhear him.

His comments would end up… misconstrued. Yes, misconstrued.

Still, he wondered if maybe he could do something small to cheer up his old colony, a small gift, a token… make an effort at camaraderie and… friendship…England felt his cheeks grow hot as the word slipped through his mind, but he was jarred from the moment by the ringing of the telephone back in the kitchen.

Scrambling out of the chair, he hurried to answer it, further jarred when he was greeted immediately by jangly, raucous music. "Happy December, Arthur! Let's go shopping!"

"Francis? What is that racket?" England demanded in irritation, holding the phone at arm's length to save his ear drum.

"It's Christmas music, you Grinch!"

"I am not a Grinch," England yelled into the phone. "I don't know what would give you that impression. Turn that nonsense down or I'm hanging up the phone. And I don't want to go shopping, especially not with you, you annoying git!"

"Talks like a Grinch, ~is a grinch~" France sang into the phone even as he turned the music down, knowing that his old friend wasn't kidding about hanging up. "Don't we have this fight every year? Of course you want to go shopping! You have to buy a present for me, at least… though there's really no one?" A pause. "Not one other single soul that you need to get a gift for?"

Damn Francis. England pulled the phone back to his ear, leaning against the counter with a frown. Why did it sometimes seem like the crazy country was sneaking a peek inside his head? There was no way that France could know what he'd been thinking! But I could get his advice without him knowing who the advice was for… "Fine, fine," he pretended to give up easily. "I know you won't stop harassing me until I agree. We'll go this Saturday."

"Trés bien!" France chimed back with obvious pleasure in his voice. "Champs-Elysées, as usual-"

But the rest of France's words were drowned out by the sudden whistling of England's tea kettle and the Brit found himself infinitely grateful for the excuse to get off the phone. "Arc, 1 PM, same as always." He didn't give France a chance to answer before hanging up, reaching to move the kettle and flick off the heat with his other hand. As he lifted his gaze to open the cabinet where his tea was stored, England stopped abruptly, one hand frozen in mid-air as he gazed out the small window above his sink.

Where earlier there had been drab sheets of gray sliding down, now there were snowflakes – fat and fluffy, spinning dizzily in the dusky twilight.

"Engwand! Look! Snow!" He closed his eyes against the memory, taking a moment to steady himself. Part of him still expected to hear that voice echoing in his halls, but the round, blue eyes and laughing smile were only a watercolor fragment in his mind.

He moved to pour the water into his mug to find that the kettle had gone cold.

o/~ I gaze out the window
This cold winters' night
At all of the twinkling lights
Alone in the darkness
Remembering when you were mine
Everybody's smiling
The whole world is rejoicing
And everyone's embracing
Except for you and I ~/o

The United States of America strolled briskly up 5th Avenue, taking the time to return as many waves and smiles as he could while still managing to weave an easy path through the crowds of holiday shoppers. He loved to see the streets of his very favorite city so busy, so full of life and, dare he say, even a bit of cheer. The sky above them was clearing and a few stars twinkled bright enough to be seen between the skyscrapers.

Tonight, he'd participated in one of his favorite holiday traditions – the lighting of the Rockefeller Tree, the keeping of an old promise… He smiled to himself a little at the memory, then snickered a little too… But seriously, what dead animal was Aretha wearing around her head this year? It was possibly even more terrible than the inauguration ensemble!

America was still humming some of music from the ceremony as he nodded to the doorman of his building. He'd be able to head back home to his house in DC in a few days, but there were meetings in the morning here that made staying in his penthouse tonight the best choice. Really, he couldn't complain, he thought to himself as he crossed the room, looking out over Central Park and the rest of the glittery lights of Manhattan as he unwound his scarf and shrugged off his leather bomber jacket. New York was beautiful at this time of year, and he wished very much that he could share the sentiment with someone.

Slipping his new iPhone out of his pocket, he stared at the brightly colored pictures and pondered. Usually, on this night, he liked to call England and brag about how this year's tree was the biggest and best one yet. England always called him rude or arrogant or made some other sarcastic remark, but America never took him seriously. After all, he was just a… a crabby old man. He lifted his thumb, hovering it over the screen indecisively. But he's been more than crabby lately, he's been… what's the word…

The phone started singing the main theme from Pokémon at him loudly and America's face broke into a grin. Fumbling for a moment, he lifted the phone to his ear to answer the call. "Mochi-Mochi!"

On the other end of the line, Japan winced and took a deep breath before responding. "That's a type of ice cream, Alfred-san," he intoned evenly. "I think what you were intending was moshi moshi?"

"Thanks for calling me back, Kiku!" America barreled right past the correction, tossing himself sideways into the leather recliner in front of his red & blue on white iridescent Christmas tree. Only half the size of the one at home. "Do you think you can help me?"

"Your question on my voicemail was somewhat unclear."

America didn't understand what there was to not understand. "Well, I have a lot of presents to buy, and I know I can do a lot of shopping here in New York, but… but there are some people who are just a little… harder to buy for?"

"And this is somehow connected to videogames?"

"If you have the best videogames, maybe you have other things that are the best too?"

There was a long moment of silence before Japan replied in the most diplomatic way he could. "This person, perhaps they would be more touched by a gift that came from your heart?"

"Heart? Do you think I should call Francis? He claims to know everything about matters of the heart!" America jumped out of his chair excitedly, pacing back and forth in front of the tree. "Thanks for the advice, Kiku! I'm going to do that right now!" He distantly registered the cut-off farewell from his friend before he punched the speed dial for France, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor as he was forced to listen to weird, breathy on-hold music before actually getting a live person.

"So sorry, l'Amerique," France purred into America's ear, surprised at how fortune was smiling on his holiday plans. He poured himself another goblet of wine and strolled into his bedroom, stopping to study his complexion in the mirror. "You were third in line, but that makes me no less delighted to hear from you."

"Wouldn't it be a great idea to go shopping together?"

The request came completely without preamble and France bit his lip to hold back a snicker. Stubborn and oblivious, what a pair. "Indeed, Alfred, indeed!" he finally managed to reply rather smoothly, hoping the amused waver in his voice wouldn't register to the younger nation. "Let me ascertain: You wish that I should take you on a grand tour of The Avenue des Champs-Élysées? Then there must be someone special that you are searching to the ends of the earth for, mon ami.!"

America swallowed hard at the suggestive tone in the other nation's voice and cleared his throat, glad no one was there to see the blush he felt rising hot in his cheeks. "Uh, umm… yeah, sorta something like that. Not really. I mean, yeah, that sounds good! I could come in a few days, when my meetings are finished?"

France grinned and winked at his own reflection as he imagined America's flustered reaction before flopping onto his back in the center of his enormous and fluffy king-sized bed. It tickled him in a deep place (the one he only revealed to a certain someone once-in-awhile) to think that he might be able to push these two towards each other. "Saturday, then, meet me at the Arc de Triomphe…" The Brit's generally on time. "Just a heartbeat or three behind 1?"

o/~I miss you
Most at Christmastime
And I can't get you
Get you off my mind
Every other season comes along
And I'm all right
But then I miss you
Most at Christmastime o/~