Chapter Nine

"ON YOUR FEET, SOLDIER!"

Steve jumped out of bed, his arm bending into a messy salute in response to what sounded like a general, or at least a major. He looked around, realizing he was in his room (twenty-first century, Avengers Tower-sometimes when he woke up he still forgot.) and not a base camp. It was empty, filled only with the dim morning light that slipped through his curtains. Steve took a deep breath, sitting back down on his bed. It must've been another dream. He leaned forward, resting his face in his hands-

"What-?" Steve pulled them back sharply. His palms were covered in white foam, and lots of it. Shaving cream. From his face. Covering his face. Steve tried to be angry, but he was too tired. He let out a shallow sigh. He got up, walking to his ensuite bathroom to clean up the mess-

-only to walk face first into a wide stripe of plastic wrap. A flash went off, followed by a sharp kesesese of laughter. The lights turned on. Steve ripped the plastic wrap off his face immediately, letting out a few choice exclamations. He was in full battle stance in less than a second.

His "attacker" was Prussia. His skin looked paper-white in the bright light, making his crimson eyes look luminescent themselves. The former nation was bent over with laughter.

"Oh!" Prussia gasped, wiping a tear. "You should have seen your face when you were defeated by my AWESOME SELF!" he fiddled with his phone. "Well, you will, once I put this video on my blog! Kesesese!"

"Yeah, very funny." Steve replied flatly. He walked over to the sinks. He grabbed a washcloth off the rack and wiped off the rest of the shaving cream. He looked up, meeting Prussia's gloating eyes in the mirror. "Don't you have a conference to prepare for?"

An unidentifiable expression flickered across the nation's face for a brief moment before the gleeful smirk returned. He stood up straight. "Ja, but that is no limitation for the likes of me! I am the conqueror of free time! Prepare to be decimated!" he gave another hissing laugh, leaning back against the wall. "Anyway, breakfast is ready upstairs. I'm going to go wake Antonio and the Italies up."

"I sure hope you don't wake them up like you woke me." Steve muttered, but when he looked back up, Prussia was gone. Steve walked back into the bedroom and pulled on fresh clothes, having showered the night before.

Steve wasn't quite sure what he thought of Prussia. He could definitely get annoying; over the past week, Prussia had pranked him about twenty times. However, the pranks seemed to have a tone that was... well he wouldn't say "friendly", but they definitely weren't malicious. It was probably Prussia's way of getting to know someone; Steve had known a guy in the army that was like that. Or maybe it was just a way of killing time; Prussia didn't seem to need to do as much work for the conference as the other nations. No matter how they were intended, the pranks were still pretty annoying. It didn't help that Prussia was staying on his floor, either.

At first it had seemed like a good idea; as much as there was, space was still limited in Avengers Tower. With about one hundred and fifty nations set to attend the conference, there had to be an average of about fifteen per floor. The residential floors were all pretty large, so it wasn't too much trouble; each room was still the size of a typical hotel suite. Steve's floor had less rooms available, but there were still more than Steve knew what to do with them. Prussia, Germany, Northern Italy, Southern Italy, Spain, France, Austria, and Hungary were all staying on his level. Prussia, Germany, North Italy, and France had been staying there for a week, since they had already been in New York. Southern Italy and Spain arrived late the last night; he guessed that those he hadn't met yet would arrive soon. All of the empty-turned-guest rooms on Steve's floor were separated from his suite by the floor's kitchen, but Prussia's was the closest to his. Maybe that's why he made Steve his target. Who knows.

He went through his morning routine without really thinking about it, preparing himself for what was sure to be a busy day. Steve debated between having breakfast in his own kitchen or on the common floor. Suddenly, he heard a loud "SHUT UP, YOU POTATO BASTARD!" echo down the hall followed by a loud thud and a cackling laugh. He decided to go upstairs.

He got to the elevator, surprised to see Prussia leaning against the wall. His white hair was mussed, with spikes sticking out every which way. He didn't seem to mind.

"Finally up, I see," Prussia teased with a smirk. "I guess you are not Captain Lazy-ass after all."

"Speak for yourself." Steve replied in the same light tone, although it was through gritted teeth. It wasn't worth arguing about, though. He let it drop.

"It's not my fault your eyes are not awesome enough to see my awesomeness." Prussia replied with an amused huff.

Steve just shook his head with a strained smile. Is he serious? he thought. It was hard to tell.

The elevator doors opened. The two stepped in.

"Ve~ Wait for me!" the doors waited while North Italy slid inside. His shirt wasn't fully buttoned and his hair was a mess. He looked like he had actually just woken up. He looked up, a bright grin filling his face. "Oh, buongiorno, Prussia! Buongiorno, Mr. Captain America!"

Steve laughed. "Buongiorno, Italia!" he replied in his best Brooklyn Italian. "And just 'Steve' is fine."

"Then call me Feliciano!" The nation responded cheerfully. He turned to Prussia, his mouth in a beaming smile. "Thank you very much for turning my alarm clock back on, Gilbert!" he said, giving the other nation a friendly hug. Although startled at first, Prussia returned it, (albeit awkwardly, since Italy had his left arm pinned to his body). His lips curled into a small smile that, Steve thought, was probably the first genuine one he had seen on the nation's face. Prussia patted Italy's back twice before making eye contact with Steve. He quickly broke off the embrace.

"No problem, Feli." Prussia said. There was a small, awkward pause. Then suddenly, Prussia was back to his energetic self. "What else would you expect of the awesome me?!"

Italy laughed and danced out the elevator doors as they opened. Steve shot Prussia a disbelieving look.

"You set his alarm clock later? Without any shaving cream?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

Prussia shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "I like Feli. I couldn't ask for a better schwager." the nation tilted his nose to the air. "Pancakes!" he marched out of the elevator calling, "Oi, Birdie, is that you or your idiot brother I see working magic in the kitchen? Kesese!"

Steve paused. Schwager. Meaning "brother-in-law." Huh. So Germany and Italy were married. Or, at least, Ludwig and Feliciano were. Steve was still a little vague as to where the country stopped and the person started. Nevertheless, he wasn't surprised. They were much closer than friends or allies could be. Human or not, he was glad that they could find some normalcy in their surely abnormal, long lives.

Steve took the long way to the kitchen, managing to avoid most of the mayhem. He was greeted by some of the most beautiful pancakes he had ever seen in his life. They smelled like heaven, accompanied by the heavy scent of warm maple syrup.

"Pretty nice, eh?" Matthew asked in his typical quiet manner. Steve jumped; he hadn't seen him. The nation gave him a small nod and smile as he flipped another cake. "Go ahead and grab a plate if you'd like; I've got more on the way. Tony bought tons of ingredients once he found out that pancakes are my specialty."

"Well, they look great!" Steve replied. He grabbed a stack of six to start with, drizzling it over with a decent amount of pure, warm maple syrup. He poured a glass of milk and took his food to the kitchen island, finding a spot where he wouldn't get in Matthew's way. Steve wasn't quite prepared to go out and meet hundreds of nations yet. Besides, over the past few weeks he had found that (once he remembered that he was there) he enjoyed Matthew's company, and that Matthew enjoyed his. Steve could sympathize with him. He knew what it felt like to live in someone's shadow, no matter how much that person cared for you. Alfred was a swell guy, and he cared for Matthew deeply, but it was obvious that other nations were so typically wrapped up in America's outgoing nature that they completely overlooked Canada, who was a kind, funny guy in his own right.

Steve took a bite of his pancakes and instantly let out a hum. He closed his eyes. The pancakes practically melted in his mouth, and tasted just… perfect was the first thing that came to mind. They tasted like Sunday mornings, before his mother died. They tasted like Christmas, when he and Bucky would scrounge up enough cash to buy butter and syrup, holding their plates and leaning against each other in front of the fireplace. They tasted like post-battle breakfasts, where the whole team would crowd around this very kitchen and usually end up in a food fight. Steve sipped his milk.

"Wow." he said. "Matt, those have got to be the best pancakes I've tasted in my life."

"Like I said," the nation replied simply, "my specialty."

Steve smiled and dug into his breakfast, enjoying what was surely the calm before the storm. He was just finishing up when suddenly-

"Whoa, Mattie, thanks for making breakfast, but you might want to slow things up." Alfred burst into the room, carrying in stacks of dirty plates. His hair was mussed and there were bags under his eyes; he looked just a hair away from completely overwhelmed. It was a sharp contrast to his usual happy-go-lucky self. Alfred set the dishes on the counter and started loading them into the gigantic dish washer a few feet away from the oven, obviously distracted. "Stark's brought out mimosas, so things could get a little crazy, and I got rid of the rest of the champagne, but I was thinking maybe if we ended breakfast things might actually have a chance of staying on schedule? So-"

"I'll pack the rest of them up. Gil will probably want some for later, anyway." Matthew finished for him. He place the last pancake onto a plate and took the pan off the burner. He turned to his twin, fixing him in his periwinkle stare. "You know, Al, you're going to do just fine at this conference. Things are already going well."

"Thanks, Mattie." Alfred sighed, shooting his brother a grateful look. "You're the best. I'm just a little worried, y'know? Everyone's boss has been breathing down my neck about this ever since the attack last week- like it's my fault that aliens always pick my city." he huffed out a dry laugh. "Things have to be perfect, and not just 'Woo, everyone look at this shiny thing for the entire conference while I get my government under control!' perfect. We're going to be talking about intergalactic law. It's like something out of Star Trek!" he paused, going deadly serious. "Oh my god, Mattie, we should make a real-life Starfleet."

Steve took this as his opportunity to make his presence known. He took his empty plate and walked up, clearing his throat. "I can take over the dishes, if you'd like."

Alfred jumped about a foot in the air. He covered up his misstep with a laugh, his obvious stress quickly changing into what Steve now recognized as a care-free facade. His eyes turned brighter, his smile went wider, and even his hair seemed to fall into place. It was quite the act. "Man, sorry Cap, didn't see you there. Things are getting kinda crazy, huh? Oh, hey, remind me to introduce you to some nations when you go back out. Pretty much everyone has shown up so far. Well, except a few, like Hungary, Austria, Australia-"

"I'll just go out and introduce myself right now." Steve replied cheerfully, consciously ignoring the last few minutes, since Alfred was obviously trying to keep that more vulnerable part of himself private. Alfred was a bit like Tony, in that way. For now, Steve would just do what he could to help. He pulled a mug out of one of the cupboards and poured himself some coffee. "You two seem to have things handled in here, and I can wrangle Tony out of doing anything too crazy. Don't worry about hosting for a bit; we'll have it covered."

Alfred gave him a genuinely grateful smile, his eyes growing a little more tired and a little more real. "Thanks, Steve."

Steve gave him a friendly pat on the back. "Don't worry about it, Al."

Steve walked out into the living area and was quickly hit with a wall of noise. What was probably around ninety nations were spread around the space. Tony had the whole room reconfigured for optimal seating, with a breakfast bar in the middle, apparently for anyone who wanted anything (and he meant anything) other than pancakes. There were tables set up against the windows, giving it a coffee-house feel. He must have order a few more couches, too, and a ping-pong table. It made the normally open space into a cozy gathering area. All around nations (or, Steve assumed they were nations; he only recognized a few) were laughing and arguing, generally enjoying this moment of rest before the conference began. There was a rowdier group by the coffee and/or alcohol bar that Tony was currently manning and encouraging, but for the most part things were calm.

Steve braced himself, taking a deep breath. As fascinating as meeting other nations would be, he knew that all of them would ask the same question as anyone else that met him did: How are you liking the twenty-first century? He never quite knew the answer-

"Good morning, Captain!"

Steve turned around sharply at his name. He relaxed when it was a familiar face. "Good morning, Sealand. How are you?"

"Excellent!" the young nation crowed. "I love world conferences, especially this one! Normally, I have to stay home, or England kicks me out, but he said I could stay since mum and dad both came! Oh!" he put his hand on his head and turned around. "Follow me! I almost forgot to have you meet them! They've really been wanting to meet you."

Sealand led him around the outer part of the room until they reach a table along the wall. Two blonde men were sitting at it; one was petite and friendly-looking, the other sturdy and severe. Sealand stopped in front of them.

"Mum, Dad, this is Captain Rodgers! He's Captain America!"

"Ah, Captain America!" the petite one exclaimed, standing up to meet him. He shook Steve's hand. His accent sounded Scandinavian, but Steve couldn't quite pick out which. "Peter talks a lot about you! He looks up to you quite a lot."

"Well I'm flattered!" Steve replied, and it wasn't a lie. "He's a pretty exceptional kid, himself."

"I'm a nation!" Sealand interjected, but he didn't sound too upset about it.

"We know, kultaseni," the older nation replied patiently, patting Sealand on the shoulder. He looked back up to Steve. "Pardon me, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Finland, but you can call me Tino." Tino put the hand that was on Peter's shoulder and put it on the back of the other man's chair. "This is-"

"B'rwald." the man stood up. His voice was just as severe as he looked. He was very tall, taller than Steve, maybe even taller than Thor. He shook Steve's hand with a firm grip. "Sw'den."

"It's nice to meet you both." Steve said pleasantly. Sweden just stared.

"Oh Berwald, don't be like that!" Finland said, swatting him playfully on the arm. Turning to Steve, he said, "Sorry, he's not trying to be rude, he's just a little shy." at this, Berwald blushed. Tino grinned. "We'd just like to formally thank you for keeping Peter out of trouble. It must have been terrifying, that alien attack. We're glad that a few Avengers could be on the scene. We nations can handle ourselves, but not always in the most... productive manner, and Peter can overestimate himself sometimes. It's good that you were there, in any case."

"Just doing my job." Steve said simply, with a smile. He glanced across the room. Tony was waving at him. "Sorry," Steve apologized. "It was great meeting you, but it looks like Tony might need some help. If you'll excuse me..."

Tino waved him away, and Steve made his way over to the bar.

"'Morning." he said to Tony.

"Hey," he replied, and got straight down to business. "Look, sorry, I know you probably just woke up, but Austria and Hungary are down in the lobby and Alfred is nowhere in sight. Would you mind going down there and welcoming them to our humble abode? Their names are Rodrich and Elizabeta-"

"-Elizabeta is here?" Gilbert cut in, sliding closer with his elbows on the bar. "I thought she and Specs weren't flying in until noon!"

Tony shrugged. "Apparently their plane got in early. Seriously, I have no idea how you guys travel so fast. I own five planes and thirty Iron Man suits and even I'm susceptible to the laws of physics. Unless..." he paused, leaning forward. "You wouldn't happen to know if nations might have some kind of effect on perception, would you?"

"If I did, I wouldn't tell you." Gilbert replied, his smile glinting mischievously. He hopped off the bar stool, speeding off towards one of the elevators before Tony could respond. "Later, haters!"

Somewhere behind him, Steve heard Ludwig sigh. He turned around. The nation was sitting at a table full of paperwork, a sleek laptop place out in front of him. An equally sleek-looking pair of glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, apparently only worn when doing strenuous typework. Germany looked up, looking entirely exasperated with the situation.

"Would you mind going after him?" he asked Steve. "Who knows what craziness he'll get up to with Elizabeta and Roderich around. I would go after him myself, but these reports are very time-sensitive..."

"I will." Steve said amiably, holding up a hand. "I'll get two birds with one stone, this way."

Ludwig gave another sigh, this one of relief. "Danke, Captain. Once again."

"Not a problem." he replied with a nod. To Tony, "Alfred and Matthew are in the kitchen, by the way, if you get too overwhelmed."

"Me, overwhelmed?" Tony barked out a laugh that only sounded a little hysterical. "Nah. Besides, uh, I told Pepper about most of the situation, so she's handling... Some of it. Her exact words were 'I'll bail you out if it's an actual international emergency, but this is your responsibility that you signed up for yourself, Tony.' So I think she'll be able to help out with a lot of it."

"Okay, sure." Steve said, a smirk pulling on half of his mouth. He started towards the elevator. "I'd better head down."

The smooth elevator ride was a sharp contrast to the scene that awaited him on the ground floor.

"Dummkopf!" Prussia spat, baring his teeth. A Stark Industries security guard that Steve recognized but couldn't remember the name of held the former nation in her meaty arms. Her face was impassive, her eyes blank behind mirrored shades despite the thrashing albino in her grasp. "Let me go!"

"Sorry, sir," she said, not sounding sorry at all. "There's top security around arriving guests. I have specific orders not to let anyone within a hundred feet of anyone arriving for the ambassadors' conference."

"Idiot!" Prussia said again. "I'm one of the 'ambassadors'! The guests that are arriving are my friends, so you had better let me go, or Gott helfe dir I will bring the full wrath of... of... I will bring my full wrath upon you!"

"That's quite the threat, sir." the guard said, deadpan, with only the slightest shimmer of sarcasm in her voice. "Let me just escort you out..."

"It's alright, ma'am." Steve stepped forward. Prussia's eyes went wide with embarrassment before quickly being covered with indignation. "He's with me."

"Yes Captain, sir." the guard replied, quickly releasing Prussia and standing at attention in front of him. Her tone was the same one he got from fans who were excited but trying to be professional, specifically ex-military. She addressed Prussia, this time with infinitesimally more respect. "Sorry, Mr. Ambassador. My mistake."

"Yes, it is your mistake." Prussia responded quietly, venom in his voice. He brushed past her into the reception area.

Steve sighed, keeping it quiet since he'd probably be sighing a lot today, at this rate. Giving the security guard a quick thanks and apology, he followed after him.

"You know, you could say thanks." Steve said as he walked up. Prussia was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His eyes were trained on the entrance to the top-security, underground parking entrance.

"I don't need your help."

Steve shrugged. He took a spot on the wall next to him. "Whatever you say."

"I don't." Prussia replied, his tone icy. "I get that West is over the moon about you, but I'm sure as hell not going to. You're just some human kid with super-juice who got himself frozen in an iceberg and doesn't know how to use a phone anymore." he narrowed his eyes. "Why are you even here?"

"Your brother asked me to make sure you were on time to the conference." Steve responded evenly. He ignored the nation's comments; he expected disrespect at this point, and to be honest, the lack of hero-worship was pretty refreshing.

Prussia huffed, but didn't say anything further. Suddenly, he straightened his posture, seeming to forget about Steve altogether. He walked toward the glass doors, practically transfixed, until he landed at a spot in the middle of the room. A fancy car pulled up in front of the entrance. A smile broke out on Prussia's face, bright and genuine.

A stunning woman in high-fashion businesswear stepped out of the car, her light brown hair falling gently over her shoulders. She was followed by an equally attractive dark-haired man in glasses and a slim-fitting suit. Their muffled voices reached through the glass. The woman laughed at something the man said -a mixture between a guffaw and a giggle- and slapped him not-so-lightly on the arm. Prussia's smile dampened a little, but it resumed when they stepped inside.

The woman gasped, a grin lighting up her face. "Gil!"

"'Liza!"

The woman ran up to the former nation and tackled him, throwing her arms around his neck. Prussia used the momentum to swing her around in a circle, her hair flying out behind her. She whooped and laughed, and Prussia laughed with her. Steve smiled, bittersweet. He recognized this.

"Gil!" Elizabeta, Hungary, exclaimed again once her feet were on the ground. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Ludwig told me that you were coming, but I didn't expect you to be waiting for us!" she slapped his arm playfully. "Who knew you could be such a gentleman?"

"Oh, he's the gentleman? Please." the dark haired man spoke up, his face serious but his tone teasing.

"Well, I'm not the one whining, am I? Also, what I lack in extraneous etiquette I make up in strength and skill, two things you'll never have, Specs." Prussia's crooked smile turned back into a grin. "It's nice to see you've somehow still kept your scrawny frame alive, though, Rodreich."

"I can say the same to you, Gilbert, although obviously I'm much more surprised about it." the man who must be Austria replied. Prussia scowled.

"Be nice." Hungary chastised, rapping Austria on the arm. He winced. "Since you haven't noticed, mister gentleman, I'll remind you that we're in the presence of one of our hosts." she turned her attention to Steve. Her eyes were very green.

Steve stepped forward, offering his hand and his most welcoming smile. "Captain Steve Rodgers, ma'am. Welcome to Stark Tower."

"Elizabeta. Sorry for any rudeness." she gave him a polite smile. Her shake was firm, and her hands were soft.

"No rudeness at all, when it comes to greeting old friends." Steve assured her, ignoring Prussia's piercing look.

"You're very kind, Captain Rodgers." she replied, subtly flicking Prussia on the elbow. She gestured to Austria. "This is Rodreich."

"Pleasure to meet you." Rodreich said, shaking his hand, polite to the point of stiffness. Steve nodded.

"Thank you Captain Rodgers, I can take it from here." Prussia said hurriedly, looking like the nicety was straining him. Steve smirked, but he left the three of them alone. It looked like Elizabeta was very capable at keeping Prussia under control, and they obviously wanted to do some catching up.

Steve went up to his floor, planning on taking a few moments to regroup. He stepped into the hallway, breathing in the silence. Suddenly, he was shoved against the wall.

Steve struggled, grabbing his assailant so that he could break their arms. He stopped when he saw who it was.

"Romanoff? I thought you and Barton were scheduled to be on mission for a whole nother week."

"Things went south. We had to get an early extraction. Clint's staying at base for awhile." her tone was flat and deadly. "So I come here and go up to the common floor so I can watch Dog Cops on the big tv, only to find it full of nations. Care to tell me what that's all about, Rodgers?"

"You know about nations?" her right eyebrow raised. Steve cleared his throat and continued. "You actually missed a lot. Long story short, Tony and I found out who America and England are, we met the G8, there was an alien attack, and Tony offered to host the world conference here."

"Do any other Avengers know?"

"Only Thor." Steve assured her. "He should be flying back from visiting Dr. Foster soon. Tony figured that the conference would be over by the time you and Barton got back, and Dr. Banner is somewhere in Canada, last I'd heard."

Natasha nodded. She released him, stepping back. She exhaled, her equivalent of a sigh. "So much for my relaxing week off."

"Sorry." Steve replied, feeling awkward. "Your floor is mostly empty, if it's any consolation."

"It is." Natasha stared over his shoulder. "I just would rather not bump into any of my former employers."

"You used to be employed by nations?"

"Sometimes. I have a highly valuable set of skills, and they're especially valuable to people whose lives depend on politics." She took a breath. "Mostly Russia."

Steve thought about the large nation, with his looming frame and expression. He nodded. "Tony didn't put anyone in your suite, but there are some nations staying on your floor. If you want, you can stay in my apartment. I don't mind sleeping on the couch."

At this, Natasha's lips twisted into something like a smile. "I'll see about that. For now, I'll just settle for watching one of the not-gigantic tvs." she glanced back at the elevator. "Shouldn't you be going? The conference starts in a half hour, and I highly doubt Tony can handle that many nations -or any nations, really- by himself."

"Point taken." Steve agreed. He stepped back into the elevator. "See you around."

"See you." Natasha replied. She started walking away but turned back, her tone deadly serious. "Be careful, Captain. Nations aren't human, no matter how much they may act like it."

Steve gave her a curt nod. "I'll keep it in mind."

The elevator doors closed, bringing Natasha with them. Steve let out a breath, then filled his chest with another one. It had only been a few hours, but it felt like a full day. He shut his eyes, trying to find some solace while he still could. His phone rang.

"Yeah?"

"Where are you?" Tony. "The conference is starting soon, but a bunch of the nations have started wrestling all over my penthouse and screaming at each other, and as skilled as I am, conflict resolution is not one of them! Jesus, how did Pepper ever do this? Get up here, I need your muscles and ocean eyes!"

Tony hung up. Steve stood up. He squared his shoulders and got in the elevator. It was going to be a long few days.

Translation:

schwager- brother-in-law

kultaseni- sweetheart

Gott helfe dir- god help you

A new chapter, at long last. I'm afraid I've become somewhat of an unreliable fic writer; between my lack of passion for my old FF fics and my busy university life, it's hard to update. You have been such wonderful readers! Thank you for sticking with me, despite my faults and all this time. I'll try and power through, for your sakes, but I don't want to make any more promises that I can't keep. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I wish you all the very best!