Disclaimer: Not mine.

Past Noon and Already Tired Parts 1 and 2 Summary: In which Alfred understands Antonio somewhat, Lovino contemplates, Toris is taken by surprise by American quickness, Eduard is forgotten, and Gilbert does something equally smart, and just as dumb and North Italy makes a big mistake. The meeting continues, and a talk with a certain neighbor, an English Inquisition, and observations by both Elizabeta and Kiku. Yao wonders over the past. Mathew tries to contact his brother, and Tony tunes in. Usage of both human and country names

Warnings: Absolute confusion, humor, cursing, sexual innuendos (maybe not definite), and slightly darker themes—you have been warned.

XXxxxxXX

Past Noon and Already Tired

Part One

XXxxxxXX

Antonio Fernandez Carrideo was the type of person Alfred could well and truly understand. He was the type of person who could and would whole heartedly put his heart into something no matter how much trouble it caused him. Like fawning over his favorite companion Romano (who refused to be addressed by the name but give in because the stupid tomato bastard obviously couldn't remember his real name...) which more often than not led to bruises and flying paper projectiles.

Lovino, however couldn't say the same.

He didn't understand Antonio.

At all.

In fact, Lovino couldn't count the number of days he spent trying to unravel the mystery that was the Kingdom of Spain [1]

The moron made no sense, and to top it all off, the tomato bastard had the utter gall to interrupt such an important meeting nearly had the Italian spitting nails (not that he wasn't already cursing worse than a sailor). The tomato bastard had quickly and efficiently done the one thing not need in this situation. He brought the potato bastard's brother (and himself) into the restaurant. (Though Lovino refuses to even think about how witless his...companion[2] was compared to the family of potato bastards. Or the stupidity Antonio himself inspires.) Lovino stubbornly keeps his eyes on the south bastard-

Who at present, is watching the chaos with a strange glint in his eyes, that just makes Lovino want to find the nearest phone and curse out those maledetti cretini, because there's fucking way, no one could have missed that look or that damn expression.

Then it vanishes hidden beneath the pile of crap Lovino knows neither of the North American brothers [3] will admit to and that Camadian[4] person (what ever the hell his name is) won't know about because apparently no one thinks Alfredo would have problems like ordinary nations. That somehow he's different and too happy-go-lucky that the pain just washes off of him. But he's not.

He's a nation too, he's not anything more, and the fact he's not able to be something everyone expects him to be, burns him.

Horribly and dark.

Lovino curses loudly (that he knows of), this time pushing off his unwanted clinger, and jumps to his feet, slamming his hands on the table. (The noise of which is largely toned out by Antonio's praises, most of which are tomato related, and in no way shape or form to do not make Lovino as red as a damn tomato.)

"Finish the damn conversation, south-bastard." He hisses.

And Alfred opens his mouth to retort when the look in Toris' and Antonio's eyes catch him off guard.

He finds himself foundering slightly in the tense atmosphere that had risen again in the quiet of the restaurant. He didn't really want to answer. Not one bit, but seeing those damn pitying looks from the other nations made him feel small and useless. Something he swore he'd never be. He had enough of those looks to last a lifetime, he didn't need anymore.

He glances to the right, blinking when a chair slides from the table.

Gilbert situated himself with the rest, completely forgotten within the chaos Antonio had created, and seeing him now was a surprise. Ever since the dissolution of his nation, he'd stayed out of serious affairs whether personal or nation-wise preferring instead to take a back seat to the chaos that crept up around the world. He'd sit in on the world conferences, playing and then throw in a word or two of advice, that was somewhat insulting and humbling all at once.

People tend to forget that he was an old nation, not as old as China, but he was old.

Yet, here he was sitting in his place waiting quietly and making Alfred feel incredibly nervous.

The last time he had to explain anything to the Prussian[5] was during the American Revolution, and prank or not, he really had no desire to relive those events.

"Sprechen Korad Reimer![6]" Gilbert barked, making Alfred flinch.

The rest of their companions blinked confused, unable to understand the sudden insert of German in the nearly English dominated conversation.

But Alfred didn't care much for that. He was focused on something more pressing.

Apparently Toris wasn't the only one who could see through him and the fact Gilbert was resorting to that name, made Alfred flounder.

It confused the other nations dining with them, none of whom understood the significance of either the language or the name, and for that Alfred was thankful. European or not, German was not a language many of the other nations knew, let alone cared to learn. Especially since the end of World War II. Not that their people weren't learning but the personifications were a different story.

"Why the fuck are you yelling potato bastard? And in German dammit!" Lovino glared (apparently the fact that he, too was yelling escaped him). "Jones doesn't know-"

"He knows German." Gilbert said, evenly. "As well as Lithuanian and Estonian, Italian, and any of those verdammt languages you can think of."[7] He finished tapering off but not taking his eyes from the American.

"And how would you know that?!" Lovino pressed, past the hair pulling stage, and into near hysterics with the frustrating conversation and the lack of comprehensive, simple answers. It was enough to drive someone up a wall,particularly someone like South Italy who had the patience range of a teaspoon.

"Lovino's got a point." Antonio added. "Until today no one knew about James, so how did you know anything about him, mi amigo?"

Gilbert shifted in his seat glancing toward Antonio, before focusing back to Alfred. "That's what you thought. James isn't some new development. He's been around for at while, ever since the-"

"The American Civil War." Alfred added in quietly staring intently into his lemonade. "That when James G. Jones was born." And died. He said, though the last part was only to himself. There was no need to destroy his prank already, and some part of him was...afraid to do so.

Toris blinked, finding himself a little more then just confused.

He thought Alfred was simply acting a little differently. He didn't know that there had been an actual personification for the Southern United States, let alone that America, himself had been though a Civil War. Until it occurred him why he didn't know.

During the 1900's he was still trying to get his people out from Rusija and separate himself from Lekija. Back, then he hadn't been paying much attention to the young nation across the Pacific, assuming as many others that the nation wouldn't last long.

Back then, America and what he was doing wasn't important, to either him or his people. It was only until the famine of the 1920's made him realize Alfred's opportunity.

Lovino cuts in again. "And? What does that have do with anything-"

"Think South Italy." Gilbert cut in. "You went to every world meeting, who was looking a little too closely at America?"

And then it hit the others with the force of an anvil.

"The Empires." They whispered, and only now the weight of everything makes a little more sense.

Even in the beginning when his country was burdened with problems, no one was talking to him-at least not in any helping position, as many of the Empires then weren't interested in the fledgling country barely making itself known. During that time, the only reason anyone looked to America was for excess trading opportunities and maybe some extra bragging. Even England with all his might, was more than likely still pissed at Alfred for becoming independent and the ensuring problems from his colonies that represented. [8] Not to mention the national debt...

Any sign of weakness could have been fatal in the political atmosphere of the 1800's and 1900's. Europe wasn't exactly known for its diplomacy, and the fact that Alfred was surrounded by enemies did nothing to help. After all, he fought against his own brothers, what wasn't to say that one of the people who unofficially helped him wouldn't later become his enemy?

"So how did you meet the south-bastard?" Lovino asked heatedly.

Gilbert opened his mouth to reply when a sudden loud sound interrupted him.

Alfred blinked, barely recalling the sound of his own phone, and dug it out.

"Fifteen minutes till the meeting restarts." He said standing from his place. He slipped the last of his lemonade, and placed a number of bills on the table, conscious of the confused stares he was getting from the rest of the nations. [9] He waved the waitress down and after motioning to the table walked out leaving a set of very frustrated nations behind him.

All of whom were more then a little worried.

XXxxxxXX

He felt tired walking back to the meeting room, incredible so. He felt as if years had passed within that tiny restaurant, and his list of regrets was growing longer.

He knew he get interrogated at some point during this prank, but nothing prepared him for that. Lovino was expected, and maybe so was Toris, but Gilbert. He wasn't. Heck, for the duration of this prank, he'd pretty much assumed Gilbert would be with the bad touch trio, or even having a night on the town with everyone (including his OCD brother) busy. After all, that was what usually happened.

But that hadn't been the case, and frankly, he found himself a little out of his depth.

Maybe it would better if he just went to his room and arrived as 'Alfred' tomorrow instead of continuing this-

"Ve~ You okay Signore Jones?" A voice said.

Alfred spun around, second away from having a heart attack.

Near him, a little too close for comfort[10] was Feliciano sporting a worried frown.

Alfred straightened up and fixing some of the wrinkles from his suit, tried feverishly to push his thoughts down. He accomplished it, mostly, because Feliciano stopped giving him that pitying look before Alfred designed to reply.

"Yes, I'm fine." He said, digging into his left pocket for his phone.

It was twelve fifty.

They had ten minutes until the meeting started-

"Pretending isn't good, Signore."

Alfred froze.

Every word caught in his month as he turned every so slowly around to face the Italian. A retort dying on his lips. There was something there different then before, something deeper.

"Whatever you told fratello, made him worried and sad. But be nice,va bene? I hate bullies."

And with that the shorter nation skipped off leaving Alfred feeling that he was lower than dirt. Both for his words, and feeling that this whole prank was worthless, but that feeling only lasted second as a scorching angry went through him.

Without out any evidence or fanfare North Italy had automatically blamed him for Romano's feelings. Regardless of the fact, that he had no idea where the hell either of them had been, or even if they had lunch together.

Alfred sneered, a bitter feeling welding up in him as he marched forward.

All thoughts of giving up the prank vanishing like smoke.

It was time for the real games to begin.

XXxxxxXX

"And thus, North Italy wouldn't know for a long time, just what he had done. Or even what he started."

-Taken from Tony's Journal [11]

XXxxxxXX

maledetti cretini: Italian: damn jerks (I think)

signore: Italian: Mister

Sprechen: German: Talk, or to talk.

verdammt: German: damn

mi amigo: Spanish: my friend

Rusija: Lithuanian: Russia

Lekija: Lithuanian: Poland

[1] For those of you who are like me and only remember the countries by their plain and ordinary names, this here people is the official English title of Spain. The Spanish title is El Reino de Espana ('n' thing did not come out, if someone knows how to do those weird marks on the letters pm me I'm too lazy to figure it out at 3 am).

[2]Lovino has a bit of a problem expressing his feelings. Take this anyway you want. Remember I know nothing! Capice?

[3] For the purpose of this story, the North American Brothers will refer to Alfred and James Jones until further notice (or until someone like Francis is thinking, which I doubt). Sorry Canada, you haven't been much of a passing thought yet, but that's going to change soon enough.

[4] Canada's name for some reason, usually ends up a miss-match of Camadia that makes me scratch my head. Maybe people are confusing him with Cameron or something...?

[5] During the American Revolution, the Prussians, although they couldn't officially send help, they sent a Prussian General Friedrich Wilhelm von Steuben to help with the revolution hoping to use America as a counter-balance to the British Empire.

[6] German names according to a website (whose url I have somewhere) are given to children who have one or both parents of German decent. America has a large percent of Germans 17.1%, a little more than 50 million so being giving a German name, and having great relations before and after WWII helps. Before WWII, and the Great Depression there were several companies, as well as food kitchens and etc. serves being offered in Germany, which as you can guess were cut during the 1920's.

[6b] The name Korad Reimer was a name given to Alfred by Gilbert during the American revolution before Alfred officially decided on his own name (using head cannon that former country must give a first name, while nation, itself gives their own last name). Konrad is (according name/conrad) Derived from the Germanic elements kuoni "brave" and rad "counsel", while Reimer was the last name of a famous Prussian writer who published a version of the Prussian alphabet in 1776. The name pays tribute to Alfred's daring fight against an enemy (England) no one really thought he could win against, and his literary achievements when writing the Declaration of Independence.

[7] Based on history, and world events the average nation knows only a few languages. English, because it is the de facto language which is usually only in the presence of humans, the nation tongue which encompasses all the languages there will be, and have been (no one really knows how it works, it just does), as well as native language and conquest languages if the nation has been successfully invaded. An example being Lovino who knows Spanish, Italian, English, Nation Tongue and some Latin, or Toris who knows English (Alfred taught him), Lithuanian, Russian, and Polish. Also, keep in mind as time moves forward some languages are forgotten, so Latin is disappearing from Lovino and Feliciano.

[8] Something that severely irritates me whenever I read it in fanfic. Yes, Alfred fought Arthur but darnnit Arthur did his share of crap too. Honesty, Arthur's not a saint, and both were at fault, but no I see it too often, and frankly the more I see it the more I'm beginning to dislike USUK (or vice versa) pairings. Most of the problems between the two are a back and forth of 'you-did-this-so-I'll-do-that' its ridiculous. During the American Revolution, England slapped a number of laws on the America colonies to make up for all the wars they fought and didn't have the money for, so they were trying to make up the debt. Yes, they protected American colonies, too, but that didn't make them penniless, that's their problem and they tried to solve it by taking the nearly none exist cash from Americans, many of which did not have actual British money considering trading and bartering was more common unless you were rich or a merchant.

[9] Okay, people time to learn tipping. Commonly a really bad mistake foreigners often make. Usually in a normal restaurant you are to tip the waitress 10% to 15% of your bill (aside from the bill itself) or 20% for excellent service. This is something of an unspoken rule, that if not done, will make your restaurant experience embarrassing for you, if you forget (and terrible if you plan to visit the same restaurant again). Not tipping, means your insulting the waitress or waiter, unless of course they are doing bad service then feel free but otherwise tipping is not an option, do it. Using the excuse of being a foreigner is pathetic, and if all else fails ask, and explain that you are a foreigner who is confused on whether to tip. More then likely, you will be answered warmly with a yes or no answer. Waitresses and waiters get less then minimum wage, and tips make up the difference. This was introduced and its part of the reason why America has great customer service, wage is based on customer satisfaction. At bars this is usually a dollar a drink, as most bartenders are paid the same way. For more information check out my other fan fiction 'Secrets From America' or pm me.

[9b] Also eating in a restaurant is usually not more then an hour, maybe a little more, for those of you, particularly foreigners who dine in America, so don't be surprised if you get weird looks after a while, if your just sitting there drinking after an hour, and you've already eaten. Unless of course its a bar, but otherwise, remember in America, time is money. Remember that.

[10]It's a custom in Europe to stand at best three feet from conversational partners and worst two feet, so Americans generally are not very comfortable with people being closer than four feet (1.2 m) than that unless we're friends or family, and this distance can change depending on the situation. Generally the rule is an arms length from your conversational partner unless otherwise told, contrary to popular brief is that although words are likely to be informally, check the distance. More than likely its your best clue to your relationship, especially with your US friends.

[11] Refers loosely to my other fanfiction 'Perspective', but can be taken as it is. Tony's is always watching...

Author's Note: Longest damn break ever, but unfortunately necessary. My life is so fricking hectic. I'm finishing off community college and trying for a bigger university and what not, but I'm trying to get back to all this. Please forgive me! If not, feel free to roast me. I'll live!

Anyhow, Please Read and Review, so I know I haven't royally messed up this fanfic yet…