Warning: potential historical and political inaccuracy.
A/N: I'm not sure how this monster grew to be 30 pages, but here's the last part. I hope everyone has enjoyed reading it. I'd like to ask you all to review. Not because I need reviews for motivation (obviously) but because I'm curious to see what parts you liked/didn't like for future fics! Think of it as a marketing survey with you guys as the customers. Also, America is so Jason Stackhouse!
I was having a terrible weekend. My neighbor Serbia was creating all kinds of headaches for me and Ukraine was being too pushy. I had tried to say I wasn't really interested in merging in any way, shape, or form but she was pushing that stupid canal. Well, it was all politics anyway.
I had hoped this meeting would go well and reflect nicely on my country as well as calm my neighbors so I could sleep better. It was supposed to lessen my stress, not increase it!
Friday was actually going quite well. America had his little speech, something incomprehensible about nothing to do with the topic, before they adjourned to lunch. I accepted the invitation to dine with some of the western European nations, mostly in the hope of avoiding all the Slavic nations in addition to Hungary's pressing personal questions about my none-of-her-or-her-video recorder's-business relationship.
Just as I was about to step out the door a fine shower of gold glitter flittered over me. It worked into my dark hair, clogged up my nose, and I sneezed and wheezed futilely, sprinkling swirls of glitter in my wake.
"You fell into the trap for jerk-England! Now we're going to have to make another one!"
I didn't recognize that two nations that tore past me, the one little one shaking quite violently, but I was more concerned with the fact that I could not show up to lunch looking like I had been thrown in the dryer with one of America's Hannah Montana shirts.
Shaking my head regretfully, I turned around to go back to my hotel room to change. Although this was my country, I did not feel it was fair to make all of the other nations stay in a hotel, no matter how plush, while I lounged in the comfort of my own home. Also, it was much easier for me to be on site in case of problems.
It was unfortunate that when I stepped out the door the sun decided to come out. The glitter in my eyes momentarily blinded me. I stumbled back a little, surprised, before ducking my head and heading back to the safety of the building. Such a rare occurrence for fall and perhaps a good omen I thought to myself.
And lunch went quite well also. Although the restaurant was exceedingly busy and packed, a charming waiter came to take our orders. Several hard looks and raised eyebrows later, no one wanted to know why America was touching their food. When England asked in a snappy voice, America just said he was helping out because the restaurant was understaffed and that was where Italy was as well. Germany let out a small sigh and muttered something about having too much pasta and hoping for something else for once. I did not understand but neither seemed too distressed, so I dismissed it as personal relations.
I looked at my plate and decided this was a good choice of restaurants. It had been recommended to me by a loyal, trustworthy soul, but tastes do differ. In any case, the food looked wonderful and smell wonderful, so I took a large bite. Surprised, I took another and gave a noise of approval. How did the cook know I loved garlic in my food? I had not asked for fear of offending my guests with the smell.
Simultaneously, England, who was on my left on the other side of France, a dubious seating arrangement to begin with in my opinion, let out a yell. I, and everyone at the table, jumped up in alarm as he began to swear violently. Grabbing the tea in front of him, he gulped it down frantically. And then began to turn even redder, if it were at all possible. I feared he would turn purple next.
Germany stepped up to give first aid just as England managed to choke out, 'America, you will pay for this, you bloody wanker!' Then added calmly to Germany, 'Sweet tea. No cause for alarm… just homicide.' France simply laughed and said airily, 'The boy always did get his poor taste from you.'
As the food fight began, I sunk down in my chair, utterly mortified. I had heard the rumors of course, but I had always assumed that they were over exaggerated and in poor taste. I would need to change suits yet again.
After another quick shower and suit change, I attended the afternoon meetings. These went without incident, I suspect due to the lack of energy from the usual instigators, and were adjourned before I knew it.
As I was leaving the room, America flagged me down. He said that some lunch still resided in my teeth, so I peered in the proffered mirror. There was, indeed, a piece of greenery and I promptly removed it.
I started moving off when I heard him yelling. I had decided that I would simply keep walking. I took three more steps before America went past me. I turned around and saw another America, in different clothing, holding out a mirror.
'Who are you?' I asked. He blinked and pointed meekly at himself, 'Me?' I nodded, 'Who else is here in this hallway with us?' He peered at me and hugged a large, white animal, 'I'm Canada. No one ever notices me, or if they do, they think I'm America.'
I could not see how. Clothing aside, Canada seemed to be the opposite of the over-excitable America.
'I see. Romania. A pleasure to meet you.' He accepted the handshake and blushed before stammering out a 'I know. Thank you for having us. Your country is very nice.'
I smiled at the compliment and filed away the name 'Kanida' for later.
After that I ran into Russia. I wish I could say he was as pleasant, but alas, he wasn't. Not that I was ignorant to his… advances. I had enough personal dealings that I did not even need to rely on hear-say to know I was in trouble when he cornered me in the hall back to my room.
Luckily, I had prepared for such an incident because I had no desire to reunite with Russia a second time. It was inevitable that he would seek me out. So when he did trap me, I used a simple illusion to move to the side. It was not difficult, but if you were not expecting it, it would appear that I had either lightning reflexes or the ability to teleport.
I did not expect it to work twice, so after being tossed like a rag doll into the chair, I stayed put. Even as I was defiant, my heart sunk in fear. I was quite attached to my body in one piece and not having my knee caps blown out with blunt force. Just as he was leaning over to berate (and perhaps behead me) he stopped. A child-like grin spread over his features and he put a finger to his lips.
He grabbed the front of my suit and chucked me a few feet in the opposite direction before making shooing motions.
I stared some more.
Then I noticed the blond hair sticking out from behind the chair I had been in. What America was doing behind the chair was beyond my comprehension. I had a brief moment of guilt when I realized that Russia had found something else to play with, but I assumed that America, being a super power, was more than able to handle the large nations. They had been fighting for years in any case.
I quickly walked away but a glance or two back to see America's hand on Russia's face and Russia's hand over America's. Ah, so it was like that. No wonder Russia dismissed me so quickly. I blushed and hurried off to my own engagement.
Of course, I was late and apologized. Ukraine seemed concerned that I had run into Russia, after all he didn't know about our personal relations, but I told her that he had decided America was much more interesting. She flushed at that but I decided it was rude to pry.
I quickly swiped a card to open the door to the roof and head her hand as we slipped up the stairs. I did not believe anyone to be awake but it would be hard to explain if we were found in a hallway, and of course, our rooms were completely out of the question.
It was nice to be alone even if it was a bit chilly outside. I knew it would be winter soon enough. The activity was keeping us warm enough anyway.
I did not notice America until he shouted. Surprised, I stumbled back and listened to his accusations. I frowned, getting angry. Just what was he insinuating here? Ukraine was so shy and mortified she could barely answer. I clenched my fists intending to settle this, super power or no, when he blushed and looked at us sideways.
'Way to improve relations man!'
I frowned harder, wondering what he meant, before it dawned on me that… that… how vulgar!
I turned around to assure Ukraine that those were not my intentions. She gave a soft smile, still hugging herself, and said she knew they weren't. We kissed a few more times, tenderly, but the mood was broken. I escorted her back to her room before returning to my own.
In confusion I stared at the scene before me. My room looked like it had been ransacked, which made no sense at all because I had nothing worth breaking in for. Sighing, I went to return my undergarments to the drawer and pick up a few suits from the closet floor. My dry cleaning bill was going to be outrageous.
I started the next morning optimistically. Until I saw America approaching me. I was beginning to understand how he had gained his reputation now. If I were any more paranoid I would believe him to be stalking me.
When he set the half-cooked bloody mess in front of me my stomach turned. I politely attempted not to gag.
Did he really wish for me to eat this… breakfast?
Luckily Spain upended the table just in the nick of time. I did not even attempt to save my suit from the strange beverage as the dark red splattered all over.
Apparently Spain was still upset about the bull fighting issue, not that I blame him in the slightest, and cornered the seemingly clueless America. I had seen Spain in times before his lackadaisical attitude and did not wish to be in the middle if he decided to temporarily revert to his glory days.
I quickly slipped out of the room with the crowd. Apparently I wasn't the only one who decided that a brawl between the two was too dangerous. I shook my head as the remaining spectators started placing bets.
'100 on Spain' France said gleefully while Hungary sighed saying it wasn't the right kind of fighting. As her neighbor and on good relations with her, I shuddered at her meaning. Austria merely rolled his eyes also knowing her meaning.
I went to go change suits yet again. I was glad I brought spares.
The rest of the day just was awful. I truly do not understand what motivates America to do such outrageous things. The meeting was just about to begin, although several members were tardy, when America and a group of other nations broke through the door with guns.
Italy, who was beside me, let out a yelp and hit the floor with his flag waving madly. I decided he probably had a good idea and ducked too. If this was some kind of joke, I was not amused. And if it were a terrorist attack then I did not wish to be shot or taken hostage.
It took me a few minutes to realize that the guns were spraying icy water on the victims. Better than bullets but I still had no wish to ruin yet another suit. Suits were expensive!
Somehow I ended up wedged with the bad-tempered Southern Italy and his brother, who was still waving the flag madly from the ground. Hungary joined us grimly and gave me a quick wink before using her frying pan to deflect a stream of water. I was no stranger to battle but this… this was insane! How did one fight water guns and balloons? And it was madness one would have to do so in the first place!
America came at us grinning madly and Hungary smirked. She looked ready to take him out. Just as she tensed to do so, Southern Italy exploded into a flurry of curses and… tomatoes…? America was as surprised as I. Hungary took the opportunity to strike and the resounding crack made everyone in the vicinity wince.
Hungary fussed because Prussia's head dented her pan. I grabbed both Italys by the collar and started to backpedal. The Southern one protested until he saw Russia and then I was the one being dragged backwards.
Russia misstepped and went down in a flurry of cats. His wails sent chills down my spine.
America saw me and gave a cheeky salute. I stared at him wondering if he had lost his mind and preparing to throw my shoe at him. His reflexes were probably too good to be nailed by leather but at least I would have tried to give him what he deserved.
Real gunshots peppered the room. Germany and a few others quickly seized the opportunity to subdue the offenders and march them out of the room. I flicked some water off my face as England and Kanida dragged America off.
The subsequent meeting was boring. I would have liked to simply get dried off and take a nap. This weekend was far more stressful and taxing than the political problems it was supposed to be solving!
I did not really pay attention to the discussion around me. After making a few inquiries to make sure my neighbors were alright, and glancing shyly across the room at Ukraine, who was tending her brother's scratches, I sat down. This meeting was such a disaster, and I was too tired to play the gracious host. Not that anyone was paying attention anyway.
When they brought America out he attacked me. By then I was so tired of assaults and ruined suits, I simply stared. Was I supposed to shrink back in fear of the cross? I did not understand. I did shrink back when he decided to use the crosses as throwing stars. Yet somehow I expected a sneak attack. I now had a very good idea why the other nations became exasperated with the overenthusiastic superpower.
Where in the world had he gotten the idea I was a vampire? Actually, I was impressed he even knew where vampires 'originated' considering he couldn't find Europe on a map half the time.
I sighed as America was ordered out of the room. I was wondering if it was even worth it to insist he pay my dry cleaning bill. With another sigh, and returning Switzerland's crosses, I decided I should be glad the damage was so minimal. After all, what would he have done if he had found a real vampire?
A small grin worked onto my face at the thought and I chuckled. I was quite sure that a few well placed suggestions would have him… occupied… with the help of a few other nations. Humming slightly, I planned some revenge.