Hey everyone!

I don't quite know what to say... Basically I'm just trying to improve my writing skills here, and being a big fan of Hetalia, I thought: "Eh, why not? I'll write a story! And what the heck, I'll even use an OC!"

So, here you go. I hope you enjoy the first chapter of my story!

Chapter One: The Death of My Car. Literally.

"Lauren?" I stared slack jawed at the situation before me. "What the hell happened to my car?"

My silver Volkswagen-my baby-had been slammed straight through the side of a building. The official looking structure had probably looked fancy at one point, with a rose garden, white trimming on the roof and old-fashioned brick walls. Now, the rose garden was in shreds, debris was strewn everywhere, and you could clearly see the lobby through the enormous hole caved in the side of the brick. The car had totaled a media center inside the lobby too, and what remained of a television screen, front desk and projector was now a jumble of wires and metal. By some miraculous force that I had thanked a million times over, Lauren wasn't hurt at all; the medics had confirmed that. My wheeled amigo had made sure she was all right, but in the process had suffered a sad, sad fate: it was completely ruined. The back axel of the car had come clean off and was, for whatever reason, leaning on the side of the gaping hole in the building. Every window was shattered, the frame was caved in on multiple places, and the car alarm wouldn't stop going off.

Lauren stood next to me, nervously shuffling from foot to foot. "It's kind of a long story."

I whimpered slightly.

"Jacky?"

"My car is dead. Dead. This day started off so great, too. Now my baby is destroyed and this building is completely trashed." I buried my head in my hands.

"Well, that's the power of German engineering…" My soon to be ex-best friend chuckled awkwardly. I promptly smacked her upside the head.

"Don't you dare make a joke out of this," I growled angrily "especially since my insurance isn't going to cover any of it since you were driving the car! Lauren, I'm flat broke right now! I've got nothing! Zip, zero, nada! What do you expect me to tell the building manager, huh? 'Surprise, sir, I can't cover the damages and neither will my insurance'?"

"Come on Jacky," Lauren put a delicately manicured hand on my shoulder in an attempt to give me comfort, "You could always get a loan—"

I let out a derisive snort. "I don't trust banks. Besides, ever heard of 'never a borrower nor a lender be'?" I turned to Lauren. "You're paying for this."

"I can't!" She whined shamefacedly, "I'm pretty much broke too!"

"Oh. Really." My voice was cold and clipped. "You expect me to believe that?"

"Yes! I got a whole new summer wardrobe and I am literally waiting for my next paycheck—"

"Clothes, Lauren? Really?" By this point, I was on the verge of blowing a gasket. "Are you seriously going to stick with such a shallow reason as your excuse?" I took a deep breath and glared at the platinum blond in front of me. "I knew you liked clothes, Lauren, but I had no idea that you valued them over other people's possessions. Normally, people treat borrowed items with a certain amount of respect. Apparently I was wrong." Her lip quivered and her big blue eyes began to fill with tears.

"I'm really sorry Jacky! The other driver just kept swerving into my lane, and I had to back away from him, and he just kept drifting into me, and I didn't know what to do so I made a right turn straight into the building! It all just happened so fast!" The words bubbled from her lips faster and faster. Oh god, I didn't realize that was what happened. I thought, instantly feeling awful, Some asshole made her crash into a building, and she could've been killed…And now she's going to cry. Dammit, how horrible can I be? "I'll return all the clothes so that I can make a down payment! I'll pick up extra shifts at the restaurant! I'll—"

"Stop." I rubbed my temples, feeling guilty and drained. "For heaven's freaking sake, just stop, okay? It wasn't your fault if the other driver was driving dangerously." I glanced back at the wreck. "We'll… We'll figure something out, alright? Please forgive-" I was suddenly tackle hugged.

"I'm sho shorry!" Lauren was full out crying now, words slurred with the force of the tears. I awkwardly patted her on the back as I fought for breath. Lauren was much taller than my five feet five inches, about five foot ten. It was pretty easy to be smushed in one of her bear-hugs too; she was deceptively strong for her lack of muscle.

"Can't. Breathe." I chocked out, "Let. Go. Please." She finally released me, still sniffling. I panted a little bit, attempting to regain my breath. "Look, I forgive you. It wasn't your fault. Frankly I should be the one apologizing after saying things like that." Patting her arm, I stared sincerely up into her eyes. "I'm sorry I was angry at you, especially since I didn't know the whole story. And I'm honestly really, really glad you're okay. Will you forgive me?"

Lauren beamed at me. "Of course, but no more judging me and my clothes buying habits."

I gave a grudging smile in return. "I'm making no promises." Running a hand through my short black bob I took a moment to look around. "Now, help me find the person in charge. We need to have an incredibly depressing conversation about how much money I owe."

"Try talking to one of the cops," Lauren suggested as she scanned the scene around us, "that guy there looks promising." She pointed to a tall, muscular officer with deep set eyes. He was obviously busy, currently taking notes from someone who probably witnessed the accident. I raised my eyebrows at Lauren, but she just innocently tilted her head.

"He looks a little busy. Why don't you go talk to him and I'll—" Lauren was already halfway across the pavement. Ladies and gentlemen, the flirt is back! Rolling my eyes, I looked for someone who might actually be able to help me. An older, experienced looking cop eating a sandwich caught my attention, and I made my way over to where he stood. "Excuse me, officer?"

He smiled pleasantly at me. "How can I help you today ma'am?"

"Well, it's actually about the accident. You see my friend, Lauren Johnston, she was the one driving the car— well, it was my car, actually— and I just wanted to talk with the building manager about—"

"Your friend better hope she has insurance." The portly man cut me off and took another bite of sandwich, "If not, that poor girl is going to jail."

I froze. "Excuse me?" The officer looked at me sympathetically.

"That's the way the law works, ma'am. If her insurance doesn't cover the damages, we're going to have to take her in. And if it does cover the damages, the price of her insurance is going to skyrocket until she can pay everything off. Considering everything that's been broken, that girl's probably going to be in debt for a long time."

I nodded, my face a blank mask. Inside, though, I was reeling. Because it was my car, I had thought I was going to be the one to cover the damages. But if what the cop said was true, that means Lauren—or rather Lauren's insurance—would be paying for the accident.

Last time I checked, Lauren didn't have insurance.

Which meant Lauren would be going to jail.

Shit.

My thoughts sped up to a mile a minute. Lauren wasn't exactly the most emotionally stable person I've ever met; that's one of the reasons I felt so rotten when I made her cry. She could barely handle the rude customers at the restaurant she works at. She would sometimes call me up after her shift, crying hysterically about how somebody snubbed her after she said 'Come Again!', or how when she accidentally spilled water on a customer he went on to curse her to hell and gone. Breakups with boyfriends were even worse; it took about three weeks on average before she would finally stop crying at the mention of the guy's name. I would always have to calm her down after any trauma, being the responsible, protective one in our friendship. Jail would absolutely break her. And the more I thought about it, the less it seemed likely that Lauren was going to be able to get out of this. The cops would find out soon enough that she didn't have any coverage. Lauren would go to jail, and I wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Unless…

Unless I can cut a deal before the cops find out.

Now, before we continue this little tale, I just would like to point something out the readers. I have never been good at making decisions in high pressure situations. Normally, I'm a pretty reserved kinda girl, level-headed and calm. However, if my friends get in harm's way or my apartment catches fire, despite my best efforts I usually take the riskiest move without thinking things through. Not only that, but once I get started on something, it's nearly impossible for me to stop until I've seen it through. Usually that's a good thing; in fact it helped me get a job at the Antiques store I currently work at, thank you very much, but in combination with the fact that my ideas tend to fail miserably when I'm under stress… Let's just say that everything following this point will be a prime example of what I just described.

You have been warned.

I set my jaw and straightened my jacket. "Do you know where I might be able to find the building manager? I need to talk to them." The officer looked perplexed at my new determined look. He shrugged it off though, and pointed to the building.

"My best guess is that they're somewhere inside. There's a whole bunch of maids, and I'm sure they'll be able to help you find whoever runs the building. Check around the back, there's an entrance over there."

"Thanks for your help!" I sprinted over to the direction he pointed. I passed Lauren, who gave me a wink and a thumbs-up before leaning into the handsome officer she was flirting with. I grinned back at her as I registered a blush on his face. Good thing she's keeping him distracted, it'll give me more time, I thought happily before returning my focus to the task at hand. After I arrived at the back door, I knocked rapidly, practically jumping up and down from anxiety.

Please oh please answer the door! I seriously hope that I can make this work…

"Hello? How may I help you today?" A woman about my height had answered the door with a small smile. I was shocked momentarily. When the cop had said maid, my mind had immediately interpreted it as 'cleaning staff'. This lady was a full on maid: she had the low-cut black dress with the baby doll sleeves, the frilly white apron, and the knee-high white socks of a classic French maid outfit. Her light brown hair even had that weird, square, frilly, almost-hat that maids wore. I took a deep breath in an attempt to hide my surprise, holding my hands behind my back and smiling in a way that I hoped looked confident.

"Hello, my name is Jacky Grey, and I was wondering if I might be able to talk to the person in charge. It's about the accident and it's very important."

"I'm afraid not." The maid's voice suddenly became tight with restraint. From what, I wasn't sure, but she looked really angry about something. "The man in charge is currently involved in a very important meeting with international partners. You'll have to come back later."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. This has to be dealt with today." The maid stiffened at my response.

"Well, you're going to have to come back some other time. He. Is. Busy." She emphasized each word with a sharp intake of breath.

"Like I said, it's really important, would you mind if I just came inside and—"

SLAM!

I flinched at the sound of the door being shut in my face. My frustration was slowly building, and I was getting more impatient by the second. I was about to walk away in an attempt to find another entrance before I stopped myself. This is for Lauren. Remember, you're doing this so she doesn't have to go to jail. I'm sure that this lady is just having a bad day. Stay calm, and try again. I rolled my shoulders and knocked on the door for the second time. There was a pause before the same maid opened the door. A frown marred her pretty features.

"Go away!"

"I can't. Like I said, it's really quite important for me to talk with the person in charge." The maid began to tremble angrily as she looked at me.

"You can't! He-He's busy!" She glared at me, still shaking.

"I'm sorry, but I'm kind of confused. Have I done something to offend you?"

"GOD, YOU SOUND JUST LIKE HIM! SOOOO FREAKING POLITE ALL THE DAMNED TIME!" I shot backwards at the sudden outburst. My hands were in the universally recognized 'I surrender/ Oh-god-lady-please-don't-kill-me' gesture. "WHY WON'T HE NOTICE ME?! I mean, I get that I'm part of the help, but does that mean that I can't even have a normal conversation with him?!" She looked at me helplessly, and I gathered that she was expecting me to answer her question.

"Uh…no?"

Apparently that was the answer she was looking for. "That's right! I mean, aren't I a human being?" She put a hand to her heart dramatically. "Don't I deserve to love and be loved?"

"Yep. Yep you do. I'm just going to go over here and—" She grabbed onto my shoulder and I panicked. Code red! She's clingy!

"It's just, I'm such a sucker for the accent, you know? And then his eyes-!" She swooned at her imaginary love, who was apparently standing to my left. "His eyes are like, like a forest. Such a deep green! And he's always such a gentleman to everyone! We've barely talked, but I just know! I know he's the one!" She sank to her knees, letting go of my shoulder and gazing passionately at the (still empty) space to my left. "Of course whenever they have meetings over here I'm the one who gets to prepare his tea, and I always make it with love! I'm sure he knows! HE HAS TO KNOW!" Her eyes became somewhat rabid. I just kept nodding and took a few small steps backwards, using my peripheral vision to try to find an escape.

I'm talking with a crazy person! Somebody please help me! Suddenly the lady in front of me broke down into tears. Oh no. Oh no, No, NO!

"I-I just want him to l-love me back. Ev-Every night, I look out my window and think about him. I have his picture that I keep with me every night. I-I also have one on my wall… I kiss it constantly." I bet you do. I don't doubt that for a second. "I try to con-convince myself that it's not a good idea. He lives in another country for crying out loud! B-But a girl can dream, right?" Snot was dribbling down over her lips and mingling with the tears on her chin. I gagged slightly. I don't handle snot well at all. It's disgusting.

"Hey, stop crying," I averted my eye's from the woman's face, trying to focus on something else less disgusting as I feverishly dug through my jeans pocket for a tissue of some kind, moving to my jacket when I proved unsuccessful. "Everybody has some problems with romance at one time or another, right? You just have to work through it and find the right—THANK GOD I'VE GOT TISSUES!" I shoved the wad of Kleenex at the woman, who took it gladly. I gagged yet again as she blew her nose and wiped her face.

Suddenly an idea sprung into my head and I began to inch to the doorway. "You know what? You stay out here and, uh, cry some more. I hear it's therapeutic. I'll go inside and get you some water. By the time I come back, you'll have had an epiphany and you and your dream man, and you'll find some way to get together-" I was now inside the doorway. "Be right back!"

I quickly headed down the hallway, powerwalking away from the lovesick maid and her snot. I took a left when I reached the far wall and continued along, not really focusing on where I was going, but instead concentrating on how to bring up this issue with a person who had international partners. The only international place I had ever been was Canada, and that was for the first five years of my life. I had permanently moved to the good old, U.S. of A. after that. But to talk to someone with business partners from all over the world… It was going to take some guts.

"But you've got plenty of guts!" I reassured myself aloud. "All you have to do is be professional about it. And for you, that's not even a challenge. Be professional about it. You're great at that." I continued to walk down the hall, practicing scenarios in my mind. Hello, sir or ma'am, I'm Jacky Grey. I mentally shook hands with a person in a suit. I'm sorry to bother you at this time, but I actually have some news concerning the crash that happened earlier today. My friend is the one who plowed through your building a few hours ago. Wait, no, don't say that, it puts Lauren in a bad light. How about: My friend was involved in the accident? Yeah, that sounds—

"Oof!" I stumbled backwards. "Sorry, my bad. I wasn't looking where I was going."

"It's alright, no problem." I looked up to find I was facing another maid, this time a redhead, who smiled politely at me. "May I help you?"

I brightened, in a better mood after escaping the snot and feeling a little more confident after practicing my professionalism. "Yes, actually, you can. I'm looking for the person in charge here; it's about the accident that happened earlier this morning. Do you think I could meet up with them?"

"I'm sorry, but the man in charge is currently—"

"In a meeting with international partners, yes I know." I interrupted her, eager to get to the point. "But do you think that you might at least take me to the room? I can wait outside the doors until they're finished and talk with them then."

"That's not going to be possible." The maid sighed and folded her arms. "I'm sorry, but we're not even supposed to let people inside the building right now. The cops were the only exception. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"I don't think you understand, this is really important information," I persisted, "I really need to talk to them!" The maid frowned at me.

"How did you even get inside?" All of a sudden, she shot out and grabbed me by the shoulders.

"What are you doing? HEY!" I was being bodily dragged back down the opposite hallway from where I came. I flailed my arms and legs around in an attempt to free myself, but no such luck. She was deceptively strong! "You don't understand!"

"Oh, I understand perfectly. And I'm honestly sorry about this, but you're just going to have to come back another time." She kicked open the side door and tossed me out like a ragdoll. I tumbled end over end and finally skidded to a halt near a big tree. I spun around to point an accusatory finger at the already closing door.

"You can't drag me out!"

SLAM!

I winced. It felt like she had crushed my pride in the doorframe.

"Well, you kind of just did... But that wasn't fair!" I realized what I had just said and pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. "Oh for heaven's freaking sake, I sound childish." I waved my hand about in a dismissive manner and continued. "Anyway the point is that you shouldn't just throw people out like that. It's rude, and I'm pretty sure my shoulders are going to bruise. I have very important things to—and I'm talking to a closed door. You know what? Screw it." I flopped onto my back and looked up towards the clouds, hoping to take some comfort in their detachment from my current predicament.

Spots of sun soaked sky could barely be seen through the branches of the tree I was next to. I bit my lip in disappointment. I got kicked out of the building twice, Lauren was probably going to jail, and this stupid tree with its stupid thick branches was blocking my view of the sky.

Listen to me, complaining about a tree. It's not the tree's fault it's got sturdy looking branches. I sat up and stared at the trunk of the tree. Weird. It's got little nubs on it too. I wonder what kind of tree this is? I looked up again, taking note of the strange shape of the leaves and how the thick branches would stretch all the way out to scratch the side of the building. This one particular branch rested underneath a second story window. From this angle it looked like it the window belonged to a hallway. And the window was open.

Maybe, just maybe I can…

Oh for heaven's freaking sake, that would be breaking and entering! Jacky, you were raised better than that! You're an adult. A mature, responsible adult with a promising life ahead of you. Don't go making stupid mistakes!

But even so… In my mind's eye I saw Lauren standing behind bars, trembling in fear as a faceless cell mate closed in on her and cracked their knuckles. I sighed. Imagination was both a blessing and a curse.

"…Lauren you are going to owe me so much after this." I stood up and gave the tree a final once over. I touched my toes and did windmill motions with my arms in an attempt to stretch out my muscles. Placing my foot in a conveniently placed nub, I gave my balance a try. I stayed in place. So far, so good.

Lifting myself up onto the nub some more, I grabbed another piece of the bark that jutted out. My other leg lifted to find another foothold, and I progressed up the trunk of the tree. It was really quite easy until I reached the branches. Leaves jutted out every which way, and my jacket got caught so frequently on the twigs that I was positive I had torn it somewhere. Finally getting to the branch that stood underneath the window, I wormed my way onto my stomach. Slowly pulling myself forwards, I inched my way down, using twigs and other offshoots as leverage. Finally, after painstakingly scooting myself along, I reached the base of the window.

I stretched out my right hand and grabbed onto the white, wooden sill. Twisting slightly, I got onto my feet and peeked inside the building. The window did lead out into a hallway, and there wasn't anybody coming towards me from the right. Unfortunately, my position on the branch prevented me from looking left to see if there was anybody coming from that direction. I attempted to listen for footsteps, but the wind wouldn't stop blowing long enough for me to figure anything out. I feel kind of like a spy all of a sudden. This is almost like a mystery novel, I smirked to myself. Then my face froze, Oh man, I'm headed off to make a backhanded deal by sneaking into a building… And I'm Excited About It? WHY? I shook off my criminally inclined thoughts just as a huge gust of wind shook the branches. I let out a little yelp as the branch I was kneeling on launched me upwards.

No! I'm going to fall! I pulled myself closer to the windowsill midair and reached out my other hand just in time to grab it. The rest of my body flopped hard against the side of the building and I winced, hands still latched onto the window ledge with adrenaline induced force.

So, just a recap for the folks at home: I am now dangling off of a second story window.

"It's okay, totally okay, I got this," my voice was shrill as I tried desperately not to panic, "I'm not going to fall, nope, not going to fall. Just gonna pull myself into this window here. It's aaaaaall good." Using what little upper body strength I had, I was able to pull myself up onto the window ledge. I opened the window a little higher so that I could fit through and slid one of my legs over the frame.

Unfortunately, I misjudged the distance from the window to the floor and fell through the window, making an especially graceful landing on my face.

"Ow!" I got up onto my hands and knees, rubbing my forehead angrily. "Oh man! Pain, pain, pain, pain!" I shook my head in order to get rid of the feeling and blinked away the stars in my vision. As my sight cleared, I found myself staring at a very large pair of shiny black combat boots. Slowly letting my eyes trail upwards, I found that they belonged to a very tall, very intimidating looking blonde man in a business suit. I groaned and rubbed my temples in frustration.

God Dammit.