Hello everyone. So, this is my first try at a Hetalia fanfic so please let me know how it goes. I don't own Hetalia or any of the other references in my story. Please read, review, and enjoy.
Finding…who again?
"Alright! So are we all here?" America asked exuberantly as the world powers meeting began under way.
"I don't know…it feels like someone's missing…" Japan muttered, glancing around at the different countries seated around the table.
"Not again…" Britain huffed, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. "This happens every time! Why don't we all just sign in before coming here?"
"Are you the hero, Britain?" America asked him, studying the blonde Englishman from behind his glasses.
"What in the bloody hell are you blathering about? What does that have to do with anything?"
"And that's exactly why I'm the hero and you aren't! so we're doing it my way! Everyone, number off!" America told them.
"That doesn't make any bloody sense!" Britain told him, but knew that no amount of arguing could sway the stubborn America's opinion.
"Germany you start!"
"Fine…Eins…" Germany grumbled.
"Due!" Italy said happily, his curl bouncing a bit as he moved.
"Hey! I was two!" Britain snapped at him.
"Wha! Germany, Germany! Britain's scary!" Italy cowered next to Germany who gave Britain a blank, blue-eyed stare.
"Wait, which number am I again?" Spain asked, severely confused.
"Remember it yourself, you dolt!" Britain snapped, turning away from the quivering Italy.
"Well I remember my number. Trois. See, even the number three sounds beautiful in French." France said haughtily as he flipped his golden locks, holding a bright, red rose in his fingers. Sparkles seemed to be dancing around him. The other countries just stared at him blankly.
"What a wanker." Britain muttered, ignoring the flirty France.
"Shut up, you vulgar pirate! You wouldn't know the first thing about elegance and grace with that trashy haircut of yours! You look like a mugger, you mangy dog of the Queen!" France threw the rose and it hit Britain squarely in the face.
"How dare you insult the Queen, you bloody wanker!" Britain seethed, shoving his face inches from France. "Do you want to start something?"
"If you mean if I want to start a war with you, then possibly. Either way you'll lose ungracefully. I'll send you whimpering home with your mangy tail between your legs." France informed him, pressing his forehead against Britain's. Tension filled the room like electricity; a common sign that Britain and France were at it again.
"Hey...America...shouldn't you stop them?" Japan asked, nervously glancing back at Britain and France who were now fighting with fists and flying words.
"Ha, ha! No, they always do that!" America told him, slapping him on the back unreassuringly. Japan who obviously not one to deal with stress very well.
"But they look like they're going to kill each other!" He protested, jumping as he heard France cry out in pain.
"Let go of my hair, you uncultured swine!" France cried. "You're tainting my beautiful hair with your filth! Unclean! Unclean!"
"I think your hair will look even better if I dye it black!" Britain shouted, smiling as France gave a horrified cry.
"America!" Japan pleaded.
"Ok,ok. I'm working on it. Does anyone know how to break them up?" America asked the other countries.
"Can I torture them until I make them cry?" Russia asked, sitting with his placid smile at the end of the table.
"No…I don't think that'll work and France is such a crybaby anyway."
"Five bucks on France!" Prussia shouted, appearing out of nowhere.
"No, Prussia. That's wrong! If you're gonna bet, bet on Britain." America corrected him. "Where did you even come from?"
"I was just passing through. And now I'll be leaving." Prussia gave him an evil grin and suddenly jumped through the window, his pet bird following after him.
"Can I place a bet on Russia?" Russia asked again, still wearing a smile on his face. Next to him, Latvia looked depressed and scared. The other two Baltic States weren't present, leaving him to face Russia all alone.
"But Russia, you're not fighting." America pointed out.
Russia stared at him for a moment, his smile making it to tell what he was thinking. "But I can beat both of them without even trying."
"Ok then." America told him.
"America!" Japan's voice grew desperate. "Spain and China are making a gambling circle and are placing bets!"
"Fine! Everyone stop!" America shouted and the room suddenly fell silent. "We have an issue at hand. Someone's missing and we need to figure out who it is. Alright, who's missing?"
"France is missing a brain and his moxy!" Britain sniggered.
"Well Britain's going to be missing all his hair and going to be looking even more pathetic than usual." France shot back, fixing his disheveled hair in a mirror.
"Shut up!" Germany barked, slamming his hands on the table as he stood up. "We can't start the meeting until everyone's here so shut your mouths before I shut them for you! Alright, who's not?" No one wanted to argue with the angry Germany for fear of being shot.
"I'm here!" Italy waved his hand in the air, eating a slice of pizza.
"Canada's not missing this time." America said, pointing to the America doppelganger sitting quietly in the corner with a white bear. The only difference between Canada and America was that Canada wore beige clothing and had huge curl on his head.
"America, you're an idiot. That's Sealand dressed as Canada." Britain told him.
"No I'm not! I mean...uh...Maple syrup. Hockey. Canadian Bacon. Maple Leaf. Eh." The fake Canada said.
"You see, Britain. He's Canada." America turned back to Britain, wearing that goofy grin of his.
"America, you're a bloody dolt." Britain told him flatly and grabbed Sealand by the collar of his shirt. Before he could protest, he pulled the fake curl out of his hair and removed his glasses. "See, America? Sealand snuck into the meeting disguised as Canada again."
"Oh my gosh! You're right! How could I not see it?"
"Cause you're an idiot…"
"Dangit! My brilliant plan is foiled!" Sealand struggled lose and raced for the door. "I will become a country and get all you guys to recognize me!" He shouted and slammed the door, leaving the other countries in silence.
"Who was that?" Italy asked.
"Dunno, he was much too small to be of any importance." Russia said.
"So who's still not here?" America's eyes scanned the room for any face missing. "Any ideas? I have a feeling I know who it is, but I can't remember."
"France is here. So is Greece and Spain." Britain said.
"Oh no! This is horrible!" America exclaimed suddenly.
"What is?" France questioned.
"The missing country's Canada! Canada's been kidnapped!"
"What? Kidnapped? I know what that'd like! It's not fun." Italy commented, his face falling a bit.
"How in the bloody hell did you come up with something as stupid as that?" Britain retorted, rubbing his temples.
"It explains everything! Canada's obviously been abducted!" America went on.
"Your skull's as thick as ever, America. No one's been abducted! " Britain tried to tell him, but it was in vain. Nothing could through to America when he went off on one of his delusions. "Even if he were 'abducted', who would abduct Canada? Aliens?"
"Now, now, Britain, before we start jumping to conclusions we need to take a moment to think." America told him, suddenly dressed in a Sherlock Holmes outfit, smoking a fake pipe. There was a fake mustache perched on his upper lips that he stroke meticulously.
"What the-? When did you get into that? Moreover, why are you dressed like that?" Britain stared at the young country in disbelief. "And if anyone's jumping to conclusions it's you!"
"Alright, before we begin deducing who kidnapped Canada, we need to decide who the main investigator is." Bubbles from the pipe rose into the air.
"I don't believe this!" Britain face palmed his face.
"Hey, America, if you get to dress up, do I get to dress up too?" Italy asked him.
"Sure, but you have to dress up as Watson. Actually, you all have to be Watson. I'm Sherlock Holmes!"
"Why do you get to be Sherlock Holmes?" France asked, rather put out. "It's not that I don't mind, I hate the outfit actually."
"Because all great detective shows come from America! We have at least forty-seven channels dedicated to crime shows. We have Law and Order, CSI, and hundreds more. That's why I should be Sherlock Holmes, the greatest detective ever!"
"You do know that Sherlock Holmes is British, right?" Britain told him. America stopped for a moment.
"That's just one minor detail. The fact is that if Sherlock was American he would have been ten times better. Besides, you have no crime shows of your own."
"We have Law and Order UK."
"Everyone knows that that show is just a rip off of the original. The only difference is that it's British. In short, it's just a lame imitation." America brushed him off and continued. "Now, let's get down to business. Just who would kidnap Canada?"
"Isn't that what we're trying to figure out?" France asked.
"Well Canada does have Maple syrup and is a rather big country." Russia mused. "I wonder how Vodka and syrup would taste."
"I don't think that pasta and syrup would taste good." Italy said.
"So there would be an incentive to kidnap Canada. Maple syrup would be a reason. Let's start with you, Britain!" He turned to Britain, pointing the pipe at him. "Where were you on the day of today?"
"I was here, you dolt! I was here the whole time. Why would I kidnap Canada anyways?"
"Why wouldn't you? Canada has many resources and is a big country. It's passive and quiet so it wouldn't take much to kidnap him." America continued, tapping his finger on the table.
"And so how do we know that you didn't kidnap him?" Britain shot.
"Don't question the interrogator. Alright, Britain's in the clear; the Queen wouldn't want to take a country like Canada. How about you, France? You seem to have an obsession…with Canada's hair! Also it was originally part of the French empire."
"True, Canada was part of my empire, but that doesn't mean I want it back. If I were to kidnap anyone, it'd be Italy." France's eyes slide over to the oblivious Italy who sat petting a cat.
"That maybe but you seem to have an obsession with collecting countries that catch your eye. Where were you when Canada went missing?"
"I was getting my hair done at the salon." He flipped his hair again, adding emphasis to his statement.
"France is innocent. Now…Russia," America suddenly turned to Russia, "what about you? You're always looking for countries to torment and take over. Where were you when Canada was kidnapped?"
"I was tormenting Latvia all morning." Russia responded cheerfully.
"It's true…" He sobbed and held up a piece of paper with the words "Help Me!" scribbled on it.
"Eh, what's that, Latvia? A note?" Russia leaned over and Latvia jumped.
"I'm sorry! It won't happen again!" the poor Baltic state cried. He would have run away if Russia wasn't holding onto the back of his shirt.
"Hey, Latvia, if I dress you up in a chicken costume and put you out in the cold, how much will you cry?" Latvia couldn't respond through his tears.
"I don't think Russia wants another cold country." Britain muttered, edging away from the mentally insane Russia.
"If Russia did kidnap Canada, it's doubtful that he'd still be alive after so much torment. Canada isn't a very strong country and can't handle pressure. Now who else?" Suddenly his stomach growled and the room fell silent. "Well! I guess I can't solve this case on an empty stomach! China, cook us something!"
"Alright, aru!" China pulled out a wok from inside his shirt sleeve and whistled. "Come on guys, let's make something in China Town!" A whole flood of people rushed in and the sounds of building filled the room.
"Must you always build a China Town wherever you go?" Germany asked, watching as a China Town popped up before his eyes in the meeting room.
"It's not my fault, aru." China told him as he began to cook, the heavy scents of spices floating in the air. "Isn't that right, Panda?" Beside him sat a fat panda munching on bamboo. It just chewed on the leafy stalk. "You're so cute, aru!"
"I could have just cooked something…" Britain said.
"You cook something? You're the most tasteless miscreant I know. It's no wonder where America learned his culinary tastes from." France scoffed.
"Wha! I don't want to eat Britain's cooking! It's nasty!" Italy cried in horror.
"Is there any Vodka?"
"My cooking's not bad!" Britain growled.
"You wouldn't know the first thing about cooking if it asked you out on a date!" France told him. "We French were born knowing how to cook!"
"None of what you said made any sense, you buggar!"
"Food's done, aru." China's food stopped their fighting as dishes heaped with food were laid out on the meeting table.
"This is great, China!" America said through mouthfuls of food. "I would have loved a hamburger or four, but this is good too."
"You're complaining yet you're eating the most." Britain pointed out.
"America, when are you planning on paying back the debt you owe me, aru?" China asked and America almost choked on his food.
"Debt? What debt? I don't know what you're talking about." He said, trying to avoid the subject.
"Yes you do. How could you forget, aru? It's so big that it makes even Russia look small." China insisted, holding the wok in his hand. America eyed it nervously and searched for the right words as he swallowed a bit of food.
"Oh yeah…that debt." He laughed sheepishly, acting as if nothing was wrong. "Don't worry, I'll pay it off soon!"
"Ok, aru!" China smiled and walked off.
"Once I get the money…" America muttered quietly under his breath. The countries ate until they couldn't eat anymore. Once the dishes were cleared, they all let out satisfied sighs.
"That was a good meal." Italy muttered sleepily. "Now I want to go take a nap." He laid his head on the table, wearing a grin on his face.
"A nap sounds good…" Japan agreed with a nod.
"All this eating has made me tired. Why don't we all go rest up and then continue the meeting?" The countries nodded in agreement and got up the leave, Germany and Japan leading the sleepy Italy out of the room.
"I feel like we're forgetting something?" America said out loud as he exited.
"I can't remember either…" France replied.
"Guess it wasn't that important then." Russia smiled and shut the door behind him.
Sitting in the corner, forgotten by the other countries, sat Canada, the real one. He wore a small smile frozen on his timid face as he held his bear in his lap. "I'm right here, everyone." He said in a voice as wispy as the wind. It fluttered in the empty room then vanished.
"Who are you again?" the bear asked, glancing up with little interest.
"I'm Canada…" Canada replied timidly, managing a slight laugh.
I think the morale of the story is that America fails at being a detective and Britain can't make a good crime drama. Also, if you're Canada, no one remembers you no matter how hard you try
