Hello Everyone, Name is Tinkeroftime via Joanne.

AAAAAAAAnd welcome to my little slice of internet. This is my first ever fanfiction and writing this story was fun. I hope you enjoy it and keep coming back for more. Like chocolate. Hmmm.

It's about hetalia and as always I did not invent, own, nor any of these hetalia characters (although I wish I could.) Thankfully Himaruya did. Yes!

In addition, the first two chapters are a bit slow but needed. So don't worry too much. The plot quickens quickly afterward in each chapter. And feedback is always quite useful and grateful. Enjoy it and read on. (Btw: the italicized words are when the character is thinking. The rest either narration or dialogue.)

Chapter 1: When you're tired, you're tired.

I'm so tired today. I'll go to Mickey D's after this meeting to reboot. For now, I think I'll take a nap. I'll sit in Canada's chair so no one will notice me then!

America lays his head down on the cool desk. He stretches as he waits for the other nations to come to the UN meeting. After a few minutes, England comes in swiftly and upright. He settles down near the front of the room without noticing America. He is breaking out his book out of his brown leather bag when he hears a soft murmuring noise.

Snoring?

England turns around to see a certain airhead lying on the desks. America's here?

"Oi America! Oi America. Why are you sitting in Canada's chair? And why are you here so early? You never arrive on time for anything."

America doesn't make the effort to look up, and mumbles, "Tired. So tired."

"You better wake up when the meeting starts," waving his finger then turns back around to get his book.

"England," America said sleepily. England looked up and asked, "What?"

"You can kiss my ass."

America sluggishly gave the thumbs up, before England shot up and went into Ranting and Raving mode. He went past all the desks and stood himself next to America so that America could "hear" him the best.

America kept his head on the desk and smiled to himself.

With this racket I'll be able to fall asleep now. If I tune out all the curses and the words, then it's sort of like a lullaby. A really really angry one, but nonetheless, England's lullaby.

"ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME YOU SODDING PIECE OF GIT," England yelled huffing, tired from exploding so much so early in the day. England glared down at America hoping that his rant was at least being heard. Because if they weren't America had a few things coming.

America chuckled softly and said almost as a whisper, "Ah-ha. That's my pops...pops…song."

England abruptly reddened and became stiff.

America never calls me his father, or pops, but he did… just now. What the heck has gone into him? He sounds drunk. He probably is and coming to the meeting like that! The nerve! This is not what a gentleman does at all!

England waited impatiently for some other comment but it never came. The only good thing was that America didn't look up and see his steaming face. He was sure he was as red as a tomato; which last time, when he had the opportunity to see himself in the mirror, he didn't look so refined when he was mad. Slowly, England made his way back to the front of the room, shifting through the mazes of desks. He sat himself down and did mental training to compose himself into the gentleman he really is.

Might as well leave him to rest. But oh he will be getting a big ranting from me when he gets up. I guess that can be saved till later. At least he showed up. Don't want to get back tracked in this international state after all.

England glanced back.

I never saw him drunk so early in the day before. He always seems to hold his liquor quite well, from what I've heard. I can't really ever remember. Just his annoying laughter whenever I was dru… but yeah. How odd.

England also took note of the drool escaping America's left corner of the mouth.

… What did that stupid git do last night? On the second thought, why am I thinking about this? Stupid wanker.

England had to shake his head away from the silly and perverted thoughts of America and…girls at night.

"Dear, I'm too old to be imagining Alfred get some. Sheesh." England had calm down smoothing out his ruffled his sandy hair. He flips through his Emily Dickenson's book.

England licks his finger tips as he wonders where the hell his bookmark went.

"Where? Here I was," England mutters as he dives himself into a world of poetry.

Time passes and the rest of the nations begin to arrive. Prior today, they had all agreed to come to America's conference building due to the chaotic weather happening everywhere else. Some of the nations came in with their clothes all askew due to the harsh winds.

A soaking France mentioned to Denmark while wringing his coat, "The wind is horrible where I'm coming from. I can only imagine its better where you are at?"

"No, it's just as bad. The clouds were threatening to rain but I left before they could. America's place is just about the only place without storm warnings. Thank god! I hope this meeting lasts a while. I'm not looking forward to going back home. It'd be better for me to just camp out here for a while."

"I agree. And with everything else that is going on, I just look forward to a couple of hot girls at the end of the day. Hope they will be serving early toda…"

The rest of the nations came pouring in, settling their selves, and smoothing out their appearances. Some female nations were fishing for their hair brushes while others wiped their wet faces with their towels. Everyone had just about settled down when Canada slid through the mid-open doorway. He hurriedly made his way to his seat. He is the last to come and didn't want to attract any extra attention to himself for he was never late before. It had been America's fault because America promised two days ago that he misses Canada's cooking and wouldn't mind having breakfast together sometime this Wednesday. Only that America wasn't even home. Tired from lugging all the ingredients to America's home, Canada let himself in with the spare key. However, he was having such a good time eating and listening to music he forgot the meeting. Canada is still counting the number of steps till his seat when he sees that his chair is not empty like it always is. America is in his chair.

"America? America, you forgot about having breakfast with me today, didn't you?"

Canada feeling irritated with the silent response pokes him on the shoulder.

"America."

Canada poked harder and faster but still amazingly slow to anybody else's eyes, had anyone been paying attention.

"5 more minutes…"

"America. It's me Canada…Your brother by the way. You also forgot out breakfast date today! I even bought the fresh maple syrup and everything. You're also in my chair. Off."

"Oh…Oh yeahhhhhh the breakfast…I forgot…sorry Canada …just too sleepy… I… "America mumbled. Mustering up the little energy he had left before passing out he continued, "Hey, can you just um….can you…" (Snore)

Canada pokes him on the forehead.

"USE…my chair instead today, for today? I want to hide in the back… with the desk. Tired. I'm going to sleep through thru meeting… planning to…gonna to… at least. Shouldn't have stayed up all night…coffee malfunction…kay…good…chair."

America doses off and Canada's madden expression softens.

What the heck did he just say? He really does look tired unlike his boisterous attitude all the time. It can be somewhat tiring. Well, at least breakfast was good. He does have a better view of the front than mine.

Canada gives a defeated sigh and says, "Alright brother. You win for today."

Canada walks down the steps and places his bag beside England's chair. England looks angrily up expecting America. England froze for a good 6 seconds before he could piece who the heck was in front of him. "Ah….Oh right. Canada! It's good to see you again. I take it that America is not getting out of your chair?"

"No. He's completely out. But I think it'll do him some good. To rest, ya know?"

"Yeah that stupid git…"

England mumbles to Canada some more about America and the meeting finally starts. Germany finished organizing the agenda for today and scans over the crowd with a calm composure. He taps some of his sausage residue on his lips with his napkin and takes the podium or the official head's desk. Everyone is focused and ready to do business now since the international economy wasn't getting any better. Germany knowing he has their attention, or most of their attention, as he eyes America's limp body over the desk drooling away. He barks out, as if he's giving orders and soon everyone is taking their turn arguing their approach to solve their problems.

Poland ended their first half of the meeting saying that the sudden landslides will be taken care of for he just took out a joint loan from Switzerland and Austria.

Spain, who is reading a cook book, since he has already said his share, notices America for the first time when America abruptly said in his sleep, "I PROMISE! I'll make it righ…." (Snore) Spain took off his reading glasses and stares at America with intense curiosity.

I've never sat so close to him before. There is no need to wake him up. He is last to say his thoughts, after all, today.

Earlier on in the meeting Germany mentioned that although it had been America's turn to speak they would let him pass. He could say his share last because he was just about the only country in a good state at the moment. Plus, Germany mentioned that America would just make something up about having robots and magic to save the world or something other since America's Government was already doing everything they could do with their power to help everyone.

Spain remembered Romano smiling and saying, "Yes! This is about the only good news I heard all day. It's good to put off his hour long winded stories. I wish the potato bastard could have America go last every day." Spain's concentration brakes away from America when he realizes his eyelids were slowly closing. Spain yawns.

Actually I need a siesta too. I mean, after partying all day and all night, I think I deserve it. The dancing. The singing. I can only take so much!

Spain rests his head on his arm and daydreams of the rest of the week. Loud festive music began to fill his mind.

Partying. Tamales. Eating. Ceviche…sweet bread! Hmmmmmmmm. The streets colored with the fireworks and my people decked out in the custom party clothes. The celebration needs to extend all year around, ha-ha!

Spain smiles to himself but then abruptly stops as he winces in pain.

He frowns at the image where one of his people's costumes was, as he could nicely word it, "creepy and bizarre." This 90 year old lady with wrinkles like the Grand Canyon came down the street whooping loudly and giggling herself silly from her drunkenness with only but a black bra, a thong, and a white faux feather scarf on her. She came stumbling over herself in his direction because she thought he looked "kind of cute." Spain recalled it felt like one of those deer caught in headlights moment. The only words that Spain remembered himself mouthing was, "OI DIOS SANTOS" then turning around and walking away…but it was more of a sprinting away as if "his-life-depended-on-it" runs. He faintly remembers screaming, "NO QUIERO MORIR! NOT YET! AHHHHH!"

Spain swore that the sight would leave scars so he was persistent in washing his eyes with water and soap for a good thirty minutes. And he forgot about "that" too, that is until now.

"OKAY! I'm done too. Over and out," Spain commented to no one in particular.

Spain shuts his eyes harder as he switches arms to lay his head on. Spain then decides to lays his head next to America's and intently tries to dose off. He found it much easier than he thought.

Wow. This table is really refreshing. I can see as to why he's…asleep.