I don't own Axis Powers: Hetalia.

Pairings - America/England, France/Scotland, Canada/Wales, Ireland/Australia, slight Austria/Prussia and Spain/Romano, Germany/Italy and (if you squint) Greece/Japan

The small bar was quite cramped. The bar seats were filled with drunken nations, most singing and laughing at nothing. Occasionally, one would start on their own national anthem and/or song, but they were soon shut up by the others.

Currently, England and Scotland were reminiscing about the 'good old days' when everything was grand. England had just started talking about his pirating days and how Elizabethan England had been the place to be. Scotland was currently ranting about Mary Queen of Scots and how the above-mentioned Elizabeth had cut off her head . So, a typical conversation between the two siblings then.

Ireland was trying to cheer up Northern Ireland. Ignoring the fact that the boy was physically underage, Northern Ireland tended to be a depressed drunk, whereas Ireland was merry. Ireland's attempts were being watched by an amused Japan, whose verbosity had been even more cut by his saké. Germany slept beside him, head resting on the bar counter, snoring away, while Prussia was laughing at him so hard that he inhaled some of his beer by accident. It was amazing that Germany could sleep with the racket going on beside him, but then again, with the amount of beer he had consumed…

The only other non-British country that was drunk was Russia. When Russia had heard about where the rest were going, he came with several bottles of vodka. Wales was even lower on the talking front than Japan. She just sat there, calmly downing a few drinks - nothing compared to the rest of her family (and Germany, Prussia and Russia and to a lesser extent, Japan).

England and Scotland looked dangerously close to another war with each other. The phrase "if looks could kill" came to mind.

"At least my personal name wasn't chosen by the Roman Empire, Caledonia."

Caledonia Kirkland, or Cally, as she preferred to be called, glared at her little brother.

"At least I wasn't taken over by the Roman Empire."

England responded, but nobody was listening, for it was at that moment when the door to the bar swung open - not that that people didn't listen when England and Scotland were talking (it was usually quite entertaining for onlookers, although they had to read the signs very carefully, and disappear when Scotland drew her claymore (sword) that she always had with her for some reason), but it was a special case.

The events that led to the entire British Isles, Germany, Prussia, Japan and Russia getting drunk at a small bar had actually begun that morning. England could probably have pinpointed the exact moment, if he was sober enough to see straight. The time was 9.50am…

England was enjoying a nice, peaceful cup of Earl Grey tea. He was contemplating the differences between this type of tea and a few others. He mentally noted to ask Japan his favourite flavour at the World Summit that afternoon. He was really one of the only countries that understood good tea.

It is sad truth, but a truth nonetheless, that all peaceful moments end… although not usually as abruptly as England's did that day.

"ARTHUR!"

The yelling of his name outside his study door… the Scottish accent was unmistakeable. It was her.

England looked around for a form of escape, or a hiding place. Sadly, there was none of the former, and none of the latter which Scotland did not already know about.

Then, another voice came drifting through the door… an unmistakeable Irish voice.

"Do you think he's here?"

"Aye, Paddy. Arthur's always here in the morning."

"Are you sure?"

"Aye. Like I just said - always here in in the morning. "

"Wouldn't he have opened the door if he was, Cally?"

"Nah. He doesn't trust me in there."

That was very true. The last time England had been foolish enough to let Scotland in his study, she had ripped the place apart trying to find something - what she was looking for was a mystery to England, even to this day.

"This is a waste of time."

"Come now, Seamus. You hardly ever get out anyway."

Oh bloody joy. Northern Ireland was here too.

"Ah…"

And was that Wales trying to get a word in and failing (again)? Why were the British Isles in their entirety (except himself) at his door? It was a question that needed to be answered - even at the expense of his beautiful pristine study…

England crossed the room and opened the wooden door.

*Everyone sat around England's desk. Wales tried to be polite by asking England how he was, but she was interrupted (as usual) by Scotland.

"You'll be wondering why we're here then."

"The thought did cross my mind," England said stiffly.

"I'll give you it straight. You've been going 'round callin' yourself the UK."

Ah. England saw it now. "I have to represent all of us."

"Have tae? We're all the UK - or… GB or… whitever you want to call us… except Ireland."

Northern Ireland glared at her. "UK," he muttered. "I'm here too…"

"I know, but… we're in there as the UK. There can't be four of us in the one seat."

"Then why you in the seat I wonder." It wasn't really a question.

England closed his eyes and massaged his temples.

"Let us come today." England's eyes snapped open. He stared at Scotland.

"Cally-"

"Just this once. I want to remind people it's no just England in this."

Ah. England knew why Scotland had brought it up now… "I take it that someone said that you were part of England again."

"Aye! Dae you know how much that hurts a country's pride? Especially when it happens five times in the one day. Oh, an' it happens tae Wales tae."

England sipped his tea. The peace of five minutes before had been shattered absolutely. Now the air was tense. England opened his mouth to speak, but - amazingly - Wales got in first.

"It's like Scotland says. Just this once…?"

Wales was talking? It meant that much to her? England looked down at his little sister. She was looking down at the patterns in the wooden desk, stroking her pet sheep, Llewelyn.

"Alright," he said looking away from Wales and forgetting about her instantly. Scotland, Ireland, Northern Ireland and Wales stared at England. "Par-pardon…?"

"If it means that much that you want to go… alright."

They all gaped at him for about five seconds - then Scotland broke into a grin. "Ach, you're a bastard, but you're a nice bastard when it comes down to it."

"I have to agree with Cally there."

"…"

"…"

"…"

It was nice for them to be happy with him for once.

"England's late. England's never late. Where is he?"

"Calm thoughts, Amérique, calm thoughts. He's not late, he's just always early."

"Then why isn't he early now? Something might have happened! He might have fallen out of a window, or fallen off a bridge, or…"

France's eyes glazed over as he listened to the young nation rant about what might have happened to Angleterre. Mon dieu. It was obvious that Amérique had feelings not of the platonic kind for Angleterre. Couldn't they not just kiss and break the sexual tension already?

But it was strange for Angleterre to be the last country to arrive. Usually, he was the first. In fact, he had only ever been late for something once, because he was trying to make a dramatic entrance because…

Because… wait… no, no Angleterre wasn't that cruel. He couldn't have… he couldn't have brought… brought them… oh, wait… he was exactly that cruel.

"Merde!"France seemed to blur and disappear. He attempted to crash through an emergency exit - after all, in his mind it was an emergency, but for some reason the doors would not open, no matter how hard he pushed (in the darkened, hidden room in England's house, a spellbook lay open at a page entitled Long Distance Barrier Spells…)

It was impossible to open the door; there was only one other solution.

France leapt under the long table. America had stopped listing the things that could have happened to England, and looked down at the older country, concerned.

"France? What is-" America never got to finish his question, as it was at that moment that the double doors swung open - not unlike another door would in a few hours time at a small bar.

All countries looked up, except France, who was muttering prayers under his breath under the table. He was the only one who knew what was about to descend on the summit.

All countries looked up, except France, who was muttering prayers under his breath under the table. He was the only one who knew what was about to descend on the summit.

To the other countries, they observed England to the far left of the group - a smirk slightly playing on his features (the more observant countries noted that he had a rose earring), a brown haired, nondescript girl holding a sheep (who had a leek emblazoned on her jacket - which nobody noticed), two red-headed men, one looking happy, one looking depressed (both with shamrock earrings), and finally, a tall, red-headed woman-shaped tartan blur that tore through the room to the unsuspecting target, with a war cry resounding in their ears of:

"Caaaaaaanaaaaadaaaaaaaaaa!"

The woman (obviously Scotland) enveloped Canada in a bone-crushing hug (as she slowed down, it was observed that she had thistle earrings). She immediately enquired in order, how he was, how his people were, if America was still being a bastard and where on earth France was. Canada helpfully pointed to the empty chair. Understanding flitted across Scotland's face. She walked over to the empty chair and crouched down to look under the table.

"France."

"Ec- Scotland…"

France always called countries by their names in the French way, so nobody saw any significance in him calling Scotland 'Ecosse'. However, to break off in the middle of saying it and calling her by her name that she called herself… that turned a few countries' heads, and raised a few of their eyebrows as well.

"France, could you please tell me where America is?"