This was frustrating. I wrote about ninety-five percent of this chapter, then didn't work on it for a while... and FanFiction automatically deleted it. So I had to start over. Sorry for taking forever, guys. I'm finally back!

Romano was rushing back to his hotel room at six in the morning on the final day of meetings, his pajamas thrown on haphazardly and his hair ruffled, when he ran straight into Japan. The Asian nation was already dressed for the meeting that was starting in an hour, carrying a stack of paperwork and a package of ramen. Romano had a warlike flashback of the time he met Momofuku Ando one time a few decades ago while visiting Japan, got drunk, and tried to ask the elderly inventor of instant ramen to meet him at a midnight rendezvous. Romano prayed Japan didn't remember that embarrassing incident!

"Oh, excuse me," Japan said.

"My bad," Romano replied, kneeling down and picking up Japan's papers. He was slightly flustered by his appearance. He'd ended up spending the night with Spain, and he had several hickies around his collarbone—thank God his collared shirts covered them up, but what would he wear to Prussia's party?—not to mention the fact that he looked like a typical morning-after mess.

Japan paused, looking at Romano. "Aren't... aren't you rooming with Canada-san?"

"Yeah," Romano said gruffly, standing up and handing Japan his papers.

Japan's eyes widened slowly, noticing the marks around Romano's throat. "I see. Well, I'll see you at the meeting in a little while. Bye, Romano-san."

"Not to mention, I've told you a hundred times it's poor etiquette only to show up for a few meetings and then throw a party! I know you haven't got an official nation to run anymore, but you're still a symbol, and you need to... East! Are you even listening to me? Will you stop inhaling the strudels?"

"Uh, sure!" Prussia swallowed another sugary pastry from the platter he'd swiped from the refreshments table (five minutes ago, he and Romania had gotten into an intense arm-wrestling match over them). Prussia glanced over at Germany's laptop screen, where his brother was trying to create a document in Microsoft Word. "Ha! West! Are you fucking obsolete? That isn't how you use Word. Now look what you've done! All the text and images shifted and thirty new pages appeared!"

"Please," Germany mumbled, looking around.

Prussia kept laughing. "Ooh, little brother, you lost the bet! I keep telling you that you suck with technology—"

"Shut up—" Nearby nations were definitely beginning to notice the little squabble between brothers. Germany was turning red.

"—but you insisted you could get this document done by this morning!" Prussia sarcastically checked his watch. "Well, you lost! Start stripping!"

Seychelles gasped and clasped her hands to her mouth, eyes glittering with laughter, and Hungary elbowed Japan and discreetly pulled out her camera. Germany glared at his brother and slammed his laptop shut. "Prussia."

"Ooh! What kind of bet was this?" Italy exclaimed excitedly, grabbing a strudel off Prussia's tray and shoving it in his mouth.

Prussia threw an arm around Italy in cheerful nature. "My poor little brother can't even use a GPS properly! I swear, every time we go to a new restaurant, I feel like he's Columbus trying to sail across the Atlantic... Italy, my dear, Germany and I made a bet that if he could figure out Microsoft Word, I'd admit he wasn't completely useless. But if he couldn't, he'd have to start stripping at the meeting!"

Italy's mouth dropped open in glee. "Germany! Germany! Strip!"

"No."

"I agree with Prussia!" France said, sitting down on the table and crossing his legs. He winked. "Come on, Germany. Liven up this dull week a little!"

Germany's eye twitched and he turned to Prussia, looking absolutely murderous. Prussia gulped nervously. He'd overstepped. "Look, I need to talk to Japan for a minute, okay? I'll be back. Maybe." Prussia ignored Germany's loud sigh and dashed off to speak with his friend, practically shoving Latvia to the ground in his haste. "Japan! Oh, oops! Sorry, Latvia!"

Japan set his things down and looked up with a surprised expression. "Oh! Hello, Prussia. It's good to see you again. I hate to tell you, but I can't make your party. My flight back to Tokyo leaves before then. I'm sorry."

"Dammit," Prussia sighed. "Oh well. Next time, Keeks. 'Kay? Listen, could I ask a favor?"

"A favor? Of course."

"Great! Would you mind asking Canada what he thinks of me?"

"I—yes, okay." An image of Romano flashed through Japan's mind, but he shook it away. "Sure."

"Thanks! I mean, I could totally do it myself, but, you know. Oh, shit. The meeting's starting. I feel my sugar rush kicking in!"

Japan stared. "Your... sugar rush?"

"Yeah!" Prussia laughed loudly, grabbing his stomach. "Ten strudels and four Danishes... Keeks, would you tell West I went to go throw up?"

"Canada," Germany barked as soon as everyone was assembled, "where were you yesterday?"

Irritation crossed Canada's face, and Estonia gulped nervously. Across the room, Hong Kong raised his eyebrows at Iceland, and the Nordic nation turned a deep shade of red and looked down. After Canada had left, they'd gone further than kissing...

"I got locked in a meeting room," Canada replied evenly. "My apologies. There wasn't much I could do."

Germany's lower lip twitched, and he opened his mouth to reprimand the North American nation, but Prussia cut in quickly. "Oh, come on, West. Just get on with the meeting, okay?"

"Fine. India, please present your data, and after you, let's see..."

Canada shot Prussia a thankful glance, and the albino winked in reply.

Japan, who was sitting next to Canada, slid him a handwritten note.

You got locked in a room?

-Yeah. Someone told me to meet them there, and I guess they were trying to lock me in there or something.

That's odd. Who could it have been?

-I have no idea!

Anyway, Canada... I've been meaning to ask you: You're not in a relationship with anyone, are you?

-Hmm? No.

Oh, so... no Italians in your life right now?

-Italians? No! Japan, what?

Well, what about Prussia?

-? ? ?

Japan waved Canada off, and they spent the rest of the meeting passing doodles back and forth. They were halfway through their fifty-second game of tic-tac-toe (they were tied exactly at twenty-six and twenty-six) when Germany dismissed the meeting around two in the afternoon.

"Well, I've got to catch a flight soon," Japan said. "It was very good to see you, Canada. Keep in touch. I should love to visit your country sometime."

"You too! I had lots of fun with you." Canada gathered up their sheets of tic-tac-toe and grinned broadly. "Have a safe flight."

"Enjoy the party," Japan replied. He decided to make haste from the conversation when he noticed Prussia out of the corner of his eye, watching, clearly waiting for Japan to leave so he could approach Canada. Japan bowed very slightly at the former nation, said a final farewell to Canada, then hurried out with his notes and bag. Prussia made a move to walk over to Canada, but before he could get to that side of the room, Romano appeared out of the thinning crowd, stomping straight up to Canada. "Hey! You!"

"Eh?" Canada shoved his papers into his folder and stood up from his seat. "What's the matter, Romano?"

"Where were you this morning?"

"I could say the same about you," Canada replied. "I woke up and you were gone. So I got ready around six, helped England and France back up some data, and then came to the meeting. I guess you left after I feel asleep."

"Yeah, I fucking did," Romano snapped, "because you—!" The Italian stopped suddenly, snapping his jaw shut in rage.

Canada sighed, though he wasn't annoyed. He was rather fond of Romano's attitude. It was endearing somehow. "I what?"

"Oh, fuck it. Skip the party tonight," demanded the irritable nation, loosening his tie and rolling his eyes.

"What? Why?"

"We're gonna go explore Berlin."

"'We'?"

"Don't come at me with that, bastard. We can walk the streets and find somewhere acceptable to eat. Okay?"

Prussia, who had been listening to the conversation, frowned. What the hell? Were Canada and Romano a thing? Well, this was more disappointing than the time he got kicked out of the house for a week for letting the dog chew up Germany's absolutely ratty pair of Austrian underwear!

The former nation sighed, and in a fit of anger, grabbed an entire platter of doughnuts from the refreshments table, shoving them into his mouth as he stalked out of the room. He clearly hadn't learned anything from the strudels that morning.

Snippets of conversations flew past him, increasingly odd as he neared the exit. He was in the hallway, heading toward the elevator, when a particularly interesting exchange caught his attention.

"In the words of your people, I would say you are, well, hottie for my body."

Prussia stopped dead, swallowing a mouthful of chocolate and dough and inching closer to listen to the conversation. Russia and America again? So was the whole RusAme Twittergate war had been real?

"Braginsky, I am not interested in you, your freakishly large nose, or your freakishly large dic—"

Prussia coughed. America and Russia snapped their attention to him. Prussia, realizing he was exposed, ducked down to the wall and struck what he hoped was a convincing water fountain pose.

Russia narrowed his eyes and America groaned, slapping his forehead with his palm. "Prussia, we see you. You're not fooling anyone."

"Oh." Prussia stood up and dusted himself off, looking back and forth between Russia's intensifying aura of anger and the elevator at the end of the hall.

"Were you eavesdropping?" Russia asked, a grin growing on his face.

"N-no!" Prussia exclaimed adamantly, trying to judge the distance between himself and the elevator. If he sprinted...

"Funny, Prussia," America said casually, "I think Russia can make it to the elevator in nine seconds, so you should be safe if you can make it in eight..."

Prussia, not needing any more bidding, took off down the hallway as fast as he could.