Handling a Crisis

Chapter Forty-Six: Dating, Start!

Edit: fixed the WWIII mistake 

The news of Trump's impeachment has put me in a good mood, so I've decided to grant y'all some mercy 😌

Enjoy

Nervous? No, no, no, America wasn't nervous; not at all!

Well, okay. Maybe a little.

"Look, it's just an inside joke," America muttered to himself. "He's just doing the inside joke, that's all. It's not a real date. C'mon, pull yourself together, man."

"Oh, it is totally a date," Confederacy piped up from his bed. Earlier, he had made the decision to be a good brother and tease the shit out of America before he left for his "hangout" with Russia. This has been happening the entire day.

America poked his head out of his closet. "No, come on, Fed. You know Russia. He wouldn't consider this a date! He's just..." America waved his hand around, trying to come up with a good term to use. "Unintentionally romantic, that's all. We both know this."

"Yeah, but he always does it to you. He never does this to anyone else."

"Uncle Fed's got a point, y'know," California agreed. "I mean, I can't really vouch for the statement since I've never been outside with Russia, but I know it's right."

America looked at him. "Why are you in here?"

California smirked, quirking an eyebrow. "I live here."

America rolled his eyes and went back into the closet literally-speaking. "Smartass."

"Hey, I got it from somewhere, y'know."

Laughing, America shook his head. "Shut up."

Not long after, America stepped out of the closet. He wore a light brown, beigey-coloured sweater and light blue overalls (I heard some people call them dungarees; is that true?), carrying a light blue jacket that matched with his overalls. It was a little simple, yeah, but Russia said that he didn't have to dress too nicely.

"Okay, I'm going to head out," America said. "Russia's gonna be at NATO's in like, ten minutes." He pointed at California. "Listen to your uncle and your older siblings."

California smirked again. "When have I not?"

America gave him a joking, but semi-serious look. "Don't make me break out the list." He opened the door to his bedroom, waving over his shoulder. "I'll be back soon! Don't break anything!"

Snickering, California complained sarcastically, "Man, my plans have been foiled! How could you? I'm going to have to get my baseball bat back from Florida and tell him the bad news! You're no fun, Dad."

Chuckling, America went downstairs, accompanied by Confederacy. "Tell 'im I want you back by curfew. He better treat you right, otherwise I might have to have a little chat," Confederacy warned.

America rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up, Butternut."

Confederacy let out a loud "ha!" He nudged America. "I'd like to say I'm jokin', but we both know I'm serious."

"Yeah, I know. And trust me, date or not, he'll treat me well. Again, this is something you should know."

"Oh, come on, just let me do my brother threatening thing!"

Shaking his head amusedly, America put on a pair of white vans and waved to his family, who bid him goodbye. He left the house, sat inside the pod and rode it back to NATO's basement. After America got out of the pod, the door closed automatically behind him, and America went up to the main house, grabbed his keyring, activated his disguise, and put on a mask. He left the house, locking the door behind him.