Title: Modeling Job
Characters and Pairings: Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Hungary, Prussia, Austria, America, Puerto Rico, Virgin Islands (non-speaking cameo), Sealand (non-speaking cameo)
Warnings: Some language, perversion, cross-dressing, Prussia
Summary: Liechtenstein and Hungary plot against an unknowing Switzerland, Prussia gets beaten with a frying pan, and Austria struggles to remain the sane one.

Strolling down the hallway, Hungary stopped and opened every door in an attempt to find a certain blond, ill-tempered, gun-toting nation to ask a question of. After no less than half an hour of fruitless searching, she eventually found him hoarding chocolate into his bag in the lobby area of the meeting building. "Hey, Switzerland!" she called, striding over to him. "Can I ask a favor of you?"

"Depends on what it is," he replied, putting the safety on his handgun and tucking it into the back of his pants.

Subduing a maniacal smirk, Hungary said, "I have a crapton of ideas for outfits, but I can't work with them if I have no one to model them for me. Could you be my mannequin?"

He raised an eyebrow. "No chance in hell," he deadpanned, slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking out the door, leaving Hungary behind and planning a way to make him say yes.

. . .

One of the benefits of being a nation was having superior "child care," which even the meeting building had for the micronations and sovereign states to spend time in if they so chose; every once in a while, Italy, Spain, or America would pop in and mess around with the smaller countries, too.

When Hungary walked in, she found America, puppy-dog eyes in full cute mode and pouting at Puerto Rico. "Are you sure you don't wanna become a state?" he whined, widening his eyes and jutting his bottom lip out further.

Puerto Rico sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and glancing over at Virgin Islands as if asking for help. "Sí, I do not want to become a state. Now por favor, leave me alone."

Hungary giggled, bypassing the still-pleading blond nation and practically skipping over to where Liechtenstein and Sealand were playing Mario Kart. She stood behind the two of them and watched as Liechtenstein jumped out in front and proceeded to kick Sealand's non-nation ass into oblivion. "Nice job!" she said when they were finished, ruffling the little girl's hair.

Turning her head, Liechtenstein smiled before standing up and giving a little curtsey. "Hello, Miss Hungary," she said, smiling sweetly. "What can I help you with?"

"I need your help with something that involves your brother…"

. . .

"Big brother!" Liechtenstein called out, running to capture Switzerland in a hug and holding around his waist tightly. "I missed you so much! How was your meeting?"

Switzerland gave a small smile and hugged her back, saying, "Unproductive as usual. How was your day?"

"It was fine, but I wanted to ask you something."

He shrugged, letting go of his little sister and allowing her to step back a smidge. "Go ahead."

"Miss Hungary has a lot of really cute ideas for dresses and I wanted to help her, but I'm too small to be a model for her. Could you be the model instead?"

. . .

Since Prussia's awesome, he deserves at least a small part in this story; that, and he threatened the author with certain death and destruction if he didn't get as little as a cameo with a speaking part. So, she's decided to put him in right here, just for the shits and giggles.

Swaggering awesomely down the hallway, Prussia spotted a pretty little maiden with mousy brown hair and, after quickly fixing his hair to look even sexier than usual, sauntered over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Hey, babe," he purred, pulling Hungary closer to him. "Haven't I seen you somewhere before?"

Facial expression dead set at neutral, Hungary shrugged off the offending arm, reached into hammerspace to pull out her frying pan, and beat Prussia over the head with it. "Haven't I hit you with something before because you used crappy pickup lines?"

. . .

Austria had lived with Hungary long enough to know that there were some things she did that should never be questioned, but that didn't stop him from thinking 'what the fuck' when things out of the ordinary made their way into his imagined sanctuary of quiet and sanity.

Which is precisely why walking in the door and finding Switzerland in a rather revealing dress didn't shock, abhor, or perturb him in any way; he was, however, mentally scarred.

"I'm home," he announced, tossing his coat onto the couch.

Hungary popped out from behind the embarrassed-looking blond in a dress, pins held between her lips as she sewed the dress to make it a better fit, and said, "Wewcome home, Austwia. I'm jus' fixin' the dwess so it fits bettew. Don't mind me."

"Trust me," Austria replied, loosening his tie, "I won't."

"Miss Hungary! Is this the right color ribbon? I think it would look pretty!"