Luckily, as Canada had hoped, France managed to sort himself out before they arrived at the meeting room, and slid off his shoulder just before they entered the building. However, it was clear that he still wasn't well, per say. His hands were clenched so tightly they were shaking, and he was still mumbling to himself, albeit quietly.

Canada noticed France was slowing down slightly, so he took hold of the nation's shoulder and tugged him forward slightly, which got France to speed up without a fight. To be honest, since he had to slow down to take France's weight better, they were already late anyway. England had gone on ahead because of his need to be on time for everything, but Canada supposed that the others would be suspicious if he was late too. He was never late, unlike himself and France.

Finally, after what felt like forever, they reached the meeting room. Just before Canada opened the door, France straightened up and prepared himself for when they walked in. How he was always able to act as if nothing was wrong so easily still confused Canada to this day, but he would only get a cryptic answer about love or determination or whatever France decided was the word of the day.

"Hey, you're back, Canadia! You are so dead, bro," yelled America, now with a plaster on his forehead, once Canada opened the meeting room door. Most of the nations ignored him, as usual, but some were staring bemusedly at him and France as they took their places.

"Why are you two late?" demanded Germany. Strangely, he was glaring at England, as if he was in charge of making sure they were punctual or something.

...Not that that was a bad assumption, although Canada knew that England hated it.

"S-Sorry Germany," replied Canada, "Um, France got distracted."

Cuba, who was sitting next to him, snorted and clapped a hand over his shoulder, "Putting all the blame on Francey-pants, huh? Good for you!" he whispered. Canada laughed meekly in response, really wishing that Cuba wouldn't put all his weight onto Canada like that.

Germany turned to France, who smirked back. "Ugh, forget it," he muttered, "Carry on, Romano."

"I know; you don't need to tell me what to do, potato bastard!"

Canada groaned. Why does he bother coming to these again?

France wasn't doing much better. He was having a hard time pretending that he was listening, while gauging England's mood with him, while thinking about how to get out of doing the meeting in London. Considering that Germany wanted him to speak in English while here, it would be better to call him later or talk about it during the EU Paris meeting, but still...

Whatever the case, I seemed that England was in a better mood than earlier, which was something. He really needed someone to help him out with this, and England was his best bet. Canada was often ignored, and Spain and Prussia would constantly tease him by speaking in English to him, which kind of ruined the point.

Besides, England had more to lose if France was caught out.

"Hey, bastard! France!" shouted Romano, throwing an eraser at the nation, "You mind paying attention?!"

France, caught off guard, forgot where he was for an instant and stared at Romano blankly. What happened? Did he do something wrong? Well, of course he did, there was an eraser stuck in his hair, but...

Romano's glare melted into confusion at France's unresponsiveness. In fact, several nations were waiting for a response. England quickly pinched France's leg under the table, getting his attention. He then ducked his head down as if he was ashamed.

"O-Oh! Sorry, Cheri," said France, getting a clearer head. Yes, he definitely needed to think later; getting distracted now could be potentially risky.

Romano still looked slightly puzzled and cocked his head in a way that Spain could be heard cooing at. France winked at him, which seemed to snap him out of it. "F-Fucking weirdo," he muttered, and went back to his presentation.

England also looked annoyed at him and whispered, "Écoutes-lui! Tu peux penser plus tard." (Listen to him! You can think later.) Ah. So that was the problem; he looked too distracted. Right, enough thinking, as England said. Just focus on the meeting.

These world conferences always felt twice as long when he had to take two sets of notes, England felt. Sure, he could just translate after the meeting was over, but that would mean going to France's room and that never happened unless he was drunk.

At least it was over. And at least he didn't fall asleep like he sometimes did. Norway had been after Romano, and his voice had an almost hypnotizing quality that always made England want to put his head on the desk and forget that he was a nation for just a few moments. In fact, he was rather proud of himself that he had been able to write adequate notes on Norway's environmental plan and translate a second copy in French.

France definitely owed him for this.

"Meeting adjourned," called out Germany and slowly, the nations split into their usual groups and left. Of course, France stuck with England.

"Hey, British dude! Thanks for the Mackey D's again!" yelled America, who had somehow managed to drag Canada away from Cuba and was heading to the two Europeans with him. Even though America was often with them, none of them were sure whether he knew of France's lack of English. He had never mentioned it, and was perfectly fine switching to French or Spanish if told to (though France usually went with Spanish, since America very rarely bothered with a French accent).

Given his big mouth, none of them had told him anyway, just in case.

"Yeah, well, I just didn't want you complaining to me that you were hungry the entire time."

"But you weren't sitting anywhere near him, England."

"...Shut up, Canada."

America laughed, and seemed to forget his own strength as he clapped England round the back, "You know you love me really in that old unicorn loving heart of yours! Come on, I wanna McFlurry." England rubbed his likely bruised back with a scowl, but followed the loud nation nonetheless.

"Wait."

Oh for God's sake, Germany again?! Now what?

He turned to the European power, who seemed to be focusing mostly on France. Well, now he had to stay, didn't he? He waved America and Canada away, mouthing, "We'll catch up."

"All four of you."

Oh? Canada turned back confused, and America pointed at himself with a questioning look. Germany nodded, so he shrugged and leant against the table.

England attempted to stand to the side of Germany so that he could use the usual motions, but Germany stepped back as he did so. England tried again, and Germany glared at him. Shit, did he know something was up? France was acting pretty weird when Romano shouted at him.

Well, no point worrying for now. He gave up and decided to try and move when Germany was done talking to him. Either that, or get Canada to move; Germany probably wouldn't notice him.

"France, do you mind explaining your behaviour during the meeting?"

Oh, so that was what it was. Easy then. "He was-" England started.

"I wasn't talking to you, England," interrupted Germany, "France?"

"Uh, yes?"

"Is everything all- Gott, stop moving, England! You too, America!"

"Hey, I'm over here!"

"Canada! Whatever!" Germany pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly stressing out, "France, why were you acting so strangely during the meeting?" he repeated slowly.

"Uh... Eh bien, je..." (Well, I...)

"IN ENGLISH, FRANCE! Ugh!" Germany gripped his hair forcefully, "You four are impossible!"

"Dude, I didn't do anything!"

"Shut up!"

England and France looked at each other nervously. They were really taking liberties here, but what else could they do? Maybe they could frustrate Germany to the point that he just gave up, but that could easily make life hell in the future.

Either way, this probably wouldn't turn out very well.

Germany finally managed to get his temper back down, though it was clear that if they tried any more funny business, he would probably explode.

"France," he tried one more time, "I'm only asking you one question; why have you been acting so strangely this afternoon? I saw... Canada carrying you back to the building and since then you've been more distracted than usual. Just explain why, in English, and you can go."

England stiffened. At this point, the only option he could think of was to run. However, he didn't feel like having his pride take a beating over France's problem, of all people.

He noticed France look at him desperately, which Germany obviously saw too, if his eyes narrowing like that was anything to go by. Seeing no real way out of this, England shrugged and shook his head.

Panicking, France turned to Canada, who again, couldn't see any way out. He shook his head and mouthed, "Désolé," (Sorry) to him.

"So Italy was right," Germany finally spoke, "Vous ne parlez pas anglais, n'est pas?" (You don't speak English, do you?)

France didn't speak. Instead he sighed frustrated and avoided Germany's accusing eyes.

"Woah, seriously? You don't speak English?" asked America, getting off the table to join the others.

"Don't try and play dumb, America," warned Germany, now focusing on the younger nation.

"What? Hey, honest, I never knew," America put his hands up defensively, "I mean, I thought about it once or twice, but I didn't..."

"He would've needed others to help him hide something like this," Germany narrowed his eyes, "I think it's fair to say that you three were involved in that."

"Germany, I swear," said America, more serious than usual, "I never knew. Right, guys?"

Germany raised an eyebrow and turned to the other Anglophones, but they both nodded. They knew better than to go against America's sense of justice. France still said nothing, mostly because he didn't understand what was going on anymore.

"Right, I'll believe America. However, you two..." England and Canada both nodded, knowing they incriminated themselves already. Germany cleared his throat and continued, "Well, it's clear that France will find it... difficult to present in London."

England breathed out slightly. Well, at least one good thing came out of this...

"So you two will help him with it. As punishment, of course."

What.

England paused and stared deadpan at Germany, "...You're bloody joking."

I'm uploading this a little earlier this time because I'm off to France this evening (who'da thunk it?) and I won't have access to my computer for about a week. *sigh* Hopefully my French will get better, if nothing else.

I've realised, I'm so mean to Germany. He's like a supply teacher trying to deal with the rowdy group sitting at the back, but at least he's finally managed to squeeze the truth out of them. Only took him a few decades :P