They had not divorced without solid cause. Even when they managed to put those feelings aside and reconcile, they broke up again for very legitimate reasons. Regardless of what they wanted no orgasm, no camaraderie, and no sentimentality made that knowledge any less powerful.

Quebec reminded himself of this as he made sure his collar was high enough to hide the bite marks on his neck. It was a sad thing that he needed to. But, here he went again, going through the reasons nobody, especially him, should be with Ontario.

Ontario, who'd never met an orifice he didn't want to know better. Ontario, who was greedy and manipulative enough to propel him into the position he had.

Ontario, who'd turned a blind eye to what the English had done to their territory, and over-seen what they'd done to his current husband.

This was who his ex was, who he'd always been. Quebec fiercely reminded himself of everything as he fixed his tie.

Ontario had been successful, he'd done good things because of (or despite of), what he was. He could build as quickly as he could destroy, there was no way Quebec could become mixed up with that sort of trouble if he were going to survive.

He had far more important things to worry about, anyway. His economy needed to be put back on track. Whatever his government was to be, it needed to get back into control of his people. It was all so much more weighty than someone who'd pointedly made himself the enemy.

Quebec looked himself over in the mirror. Even as meticulously groomed as he wanted himself to be, he still looked horrible. This period had made him frail, and to show up like this amongst his (former) brethren would make them think he was ready to fold.

Not that anyone had bothered to notice Quebec's condition deficiencies. The meeting opened with Manitoba threatening bodily harm and property damage, which held everyone's interest if only to see if he'd follow through for once, if Ontario dared have the television that loud again. When order was called, they moved onto agriculture.

Somewhere around Saskatchewan's 10th graph about tubers in a seemingly never-ending discussion between the prairies about winter vegetables, the focus of everyone else had waned. British Columbia tapped at her notebook with her pencil, Nova Scotia caught up on sleep against New Brunswick's shoulder, the others watched with varying degrees of disinterest.

When some sort of argument broke out over beets, Ontario decided to keep his energies focused on reading the book he held under the table rather than his job of keeping things civil. Quebec had time to think that he shouldn't have, which was by no means a good thing.

There were so many things he needed to focus on. The world reception towards him needed to be corrected and built back up. His population had plummeted with his income, he needed to figure out a way to attract people in or back (which didn't really matter). If he was to rebel, things needed to be put in order enough to handle that.

Unfortunately, all that his mind seemed interested in exploring was how good Ontario would look bent over the table, moaning like a wanton...

He rubbed his eyes. This was a horrible development at the worst possible time.

Quebec attempted to force his attention back to the meeting, if only for the distraction. The display showed a hot house, but the English they used moved far too fast for him to know if it was still remotely related to them. Knowing those three, it probably wasn't.

The others were engaged in essentially every activity but paying attention, so evidently it was again nothing important. Quebec glanced over, and found that Yukon had managed to slip out. Lucky girl, he'd have to interrogate her about her technique. Because the ability to get out of the meeting and into Ontario was… NO.

He forced his mind to try and remember his English enough to know even a quarter of what they seemed bloodthirsty about. Something about lettuce…. Lettuce and beef, it seemed. Alberta and Manitoba looked to have formed enough common ground to go after Saskatchewan… No, the alliance was over.

Saskatchewan looked to Ontario for help, but the lead province had little interest in doing his job. For lack of anyone else to turn to, he looked at Quebec pleadingly. It wasn't like he cared for brethren he wouldn't be tied to much longer. He just had someone… a job to do until that day.

"Oi," he snapped, loud enough to break over the racket.

The argument stopped, or paused, rather, and the assembly turned its attention to Quebec. It was also enough to finally snap Ontario back into the mindset of work.

"Okay, I think that's enough," he said as he put his book away. "Let's move onto fisheries…"

The meeting carried on with the plains in an uneasy (but quiet) truce and the other provinces at varying degrees of attentiveness. Yukon had slipped back into her seat at some point. The girl must have been some sort of ghost, because that she could do so without detection no sense otherwise.

Quebec's mind held onto the meeting as much as it strayed.

As much as things had been horrible lately, where he was at wasn't all that bad if he thought about it. To not be the head of the country didn't have to be a disaster, after all, if you were able to be the neck and manipulate it to your satisfaction.

Maybe his ability to judge had been clouded. In fact, he was sure it had been. But he was fine.

Somewhere during British Columbia's 3rd graph about sustainability in halibut populations, Quebec slipped a note to Ontario under the table. Against his better judgment, he'd asked if Ontario was free again that night. With equally poor decision making, Ontario nodded once and tucked the note into his pocket.

For some reason, they were both happy with this, even if their faces remained strictly professional for the sake of their brethren who wouldn't understand.