Past-Part Fills Part 7
!!! Discussion about moving the kink meme to Dreamwidth!!!
Past-Part Fills Part Seven
Fills from past parts can go here!
Fills from the current part (part 22) MUST go in that part's post until it is full.
Link to the original request (and if an ongoing fill, any previous chapters/sections).
Don't forget to link your new fill at the fill ( Read more... )
Bet Tony thought I couldn’t make breakfast one-handed. Hah!
After pouring the milk, the kettle went off, its shrill whistle reverberating throughout the kitchen. Opening the cupboard, England was slightly miffed to find that the two teacups he usually kept at America’s house were gone, replaced by three new souvenir coffee mugs. One said ‘Boston Tea Party 1775’, and had a cartoon teacup filled to the brim with a ship floating in it, carrying a familiar flag. The middle mug said ‘Saratoga, NY’, and the third said, ‘Yorktown, VA’. England knew that America couldn’t have put them there; while he was less than serious most of the time, the Revolution was a topic that both he and England had silently agreed to move on from and not use as a weapon against the other.
England just sighed before taking the Boston Tea Party mug. Now he knew for sure that Tony was trying to provoke him.
England would just have to be the mature one here, and ignore the subtle jabs.
After awkwardly getting his tea (he’d forgotten about the attached cereal box and nearly knocked the whole kettle off the stove by accident), England kept an ear out for America waking up as he flipped the coffeemaker on and settled down to eat, deciding that Tony’s two little pranks could have been much worse.
Unless that had just been the precursor to the main event.
Frowning, England cautiously sniffed his tea, and then sipped it.
Next thing he knew, he was coughing violently and resisting the urge to sneeze as he ingested a large amount of pepper. Pepper that wasn’t supposed to even be in there.
All right then… He eyed his cereal suspiciously before pushing the bowl away. After all, if the box was rigged, who was to say that the food itself had been tampered with as well?
Well, he supposed that the first order of business was to scour the kitchen and locate any more traps and deactivate them lest America fall right into them and Tony blame England for setting them.
He wouldn’t put it past Tony to do that.
England promptly stood up… and sat right back down when the chair went up with him.
Gritting his teeth, he mentally amended that the first order of business be that he free himself from the bloody chair and cereal box.
He awkwardly stood up so that he could comfortably walk (as comfortably as he could with a wooden chair stuck to his arse that is), and began making his way over to the counter again. He was going to have to use the kitchen knife to cut the box off his hand (he couldn’t use magic one-handed), and then somehow remove the chair off of his rear (he’ll pay for a replacement) before going after Tony to end this nonsense. With the knife of course.
Squish.
He froze in his tracks, and then looked down to see what fresh hell Tony had left now.
Glue. In large splotches all over the kitchen floor. England just happened to be standing in the middle of one.
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Meow.
England turned to the dining/living room entrance, and raised a bushy eyebrow in surprise.
Tony was very calmly emptying a jar that had the light green powder on several glue-free spots on the kitchen floor. Then he set the empty catnip jar back on a shelf - England caught a glimpse of the label - before picking up the brush from a rubber cement pot. Then he knelt by a trapped Britannia, who was already coated in the catnip, and began meticulously painting a fresh coat of glue all over the poor animal. Once done, he set Britannia free.
The disgruntled cat immediately darted away from Tony only to stop by a fresh pile of catnip. After sniffing the pile cautiously for a few minutes, the cat seemed to sigh happily before flopping down and rolling around in it, scattering catnip and spreading glue onto that patch of floor.
That little…
England moved to chase Tony, but stopped when he remembered that the chair was still stuck to his bottom.
Enough of this nonsense.
England gritted his teeth before jumping backwards and falling, successfully shattering the chair against the floor, startling Britannia and sending the cat ducking under the table for cover. Although his borrowed T-shirt (he hoped this one was washable) got stuck fast to the floor, England wiggled out of it without allowing his skin to touch the floor. Tony was watching him carefully now, the glue brush in one hand and the pot in the other. England was fully prepared to bet everything he owned that Tony had somehow doctored the cement to be odorless, probably at America’s request too. The source of the alien’s power, England realized as he stood up again, was that thrice-damned workshop of his in America’s basement.
For a moment, neither of them did anything.
Then England simply lunged for the alien.
Tony let out an unearthly screech before dropping the pot and brush, and running out of there altogether. England just knew he would have been able to catch the alien if not for two factors:
One: His socks were still stuck to the floor.
Two: A sticky Britannia chose that exact moment to make his bid for the freedom of the living room, tripping England up in the process.
Whump!
Although his entire front was now lying on the glue-covered floor, England somehow, by a stroke of luck, managed to keep his face off the booby-trapped floor. He held his breath, wondering America had woken up from the racket. Judging from the lack of sound upstairs, the git was probably still asleep.
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He finally (reluctantly) admitted to himself that he was going to need help. He took a deep breath and bellowed, “America!”
Crash! Thump, thump, crash!
My hero. England thought dryly. He sighed, and resigned himself to waiting as he heard America fall out of bed and stumble around the room in a blind panic, no doubt trying to dress himself and figure out what was wrong at the same time. Then there was a rapid pounding sound as America tore down the stairs in a flying panic.
“England, what’s wro -”
England could only brace himself when he heard America trip and collapse into the gooey mess on the floor, landing partially on top of England, forcing a pained wheeze from the island nation.
America finally broke the silence. “I didn’t think it was possible, but it looks like the coffee burned,” he said mournfully.
“How can you even tell?”
“The nose always knows.” America shifted, propping himself up on his elbows, adding more weight to England’s back. “Britannia got into Tony’s supplies again, didn’t he?”
You mean this isn’t unusual? I’m going to kill that - “You mean this has happened before?” England asked irritably.
“Yeah. Except last time, it was this weird radioactive gel that glowed bright green whenever it came into contact with UV rays. Had to redo the entire kitchen in order to get rid of it all. I also had to give Britannia a haircut, he looked like one of those sphynx cats that Egypt loves so much. I couldn’t decide whether to feel bad or not for laughing when I finished his haircut. He’s a short haired cat, remember?”
“Do you have a solution then, to get us out of this lovely mess?”
“Yeah, I always - dude, did you kill the kitchen chair or something?”
“Yes, and it will be the cereal box next,” England growled. “I’ll pay for the chair replacement.”
“Don’t worry about it,” America said, rolling off of England, nearly crushing the latter’s legs. “Yeah, it was definitely Britannia. He got into the catnip again even though I put the jar on the cereal shelf,” he said as he carefully picked himself up.
England nearly rolled his eyes. Tony really thought this one through. “America, is the entrance to Tony’s workshop always unlocked?” he asked as he heard America carefully navigating the kitchen.
“Not usually when we have guests over. Even though there’s no pet door, Britannia still occasionally gets in, so sometimes he leaves it unlocked and open until he’s absolutely sure that the cat isn’t downstairs,” America replied, turning the sink on and heating the water. “He’s got a keycard to get in, and technically I’m supposed to have the spare in case he loses his, but I think I got it confused it with a Marriott hotel keycard the last time I was in Seattle. I haven’t seen the workshop keycard since then.”
“How long ago was that, dare I ask?”
“Eh, a couple months? I was looking for the birthplace of Starbucks,” America replied nonchalantly. He glanced back at the living room and whispered, “Tony doesn’t know that I’ve lost it either.”
Lovely. “Just help me up already,” England snapped.
“Easy there tiger. This is rubber cement, so unless you want to endure painful skin-ripping, chill,” America said.
England fell quiet, choosing (wisely perhaps) to trust America this time instead of questioning him. Besides, he was already forming a plan to disarm and blindside Tony all at once, and usually patience always paid off.
Hurry up America, I have work to do.
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Sooo.... I'm back? Sorry about that, life happened. As it always does.
Did you guys know that sphynx cats originated in Canada, not Egypt?
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So what are you saying, a!a? Cat abuse originated in Canada? XD
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And I am not condoning cat abuse with this chapter, that was never my intention. I do apologize if it came across that way.
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Tony is diabolical. The way that was all planned....that was...scary.
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And that poor kitty! I hope that glue can be washed off.
Looking forward to more!
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