France, Spain, and Prussia got on the airplane, heading straight for their seats. Sure, they had private jets, but it was much more fun to get together and annoy the shit out of humans to blow off steam before a world conference. And speaking of humans…

"Hey, Francis," Prussia tilted his head at the section of four seats in which they would be sitting. "Looks like there's gonna be another person to torment." He grinned, and while France responded in kind, Spain merely shook his head. He really didn't want to trouble the nice people on the plane, but he couldn't leave his friends alone, now could he?

They moved to their row, and closed in on their prey. Prussia took one aisle, Spain the other, and an unfortunate girl was trapped between France and Prussia. All they could see was the end of a long, brown ponytail poking out from beneath the hood of her sweatshirt, as she was currently engrossed in a book.

"Hey, kid, what's your name?" Prussia poked her, but she didn't respond. "Hello, the awesome me is gracing you with my presence, you can at least have the decency to answer my awesome question!"

The girl mumbled something that Prussia didn't quite catch.

"What? You were too quiet for the awesome me to hear," he smirked. He'd known that this chick wouldn't ignore him forever; she was melting under the force of his awesome aura!

"I said fuck off," she replied in a low, monotone voice. Prussia was dumbfounded. Spain was trying not to laugh, and France was eyeing her with more interest than before.

"So, mademoiselle, what is your destination?" France asked, hoping that a less direct approach than Prussia's would work.

"Je suppose que nous allons au même endroit, que nous sommes sur le même avion." She spoke flawless French, and France was also at a loss for words. Which was something that rarely happened, and Spain could not help but sneak a look at the one that had silenced both of his friends, a task previously thought impossible.

"What did she say?" Prussia leaned over her and nudged France, unable to see the annoyance in her eyes at him invading her personal space.

"She said that she would suppose she was going to the same place as us, because we are on the same airplane," France rolled his eyes. Really, how did Prussia not manage to pick up a little French after spending so much time with him?

"Kesese," Prussia smirked, and patted the girl on the shoulder. "You won that round, girly. Now, seeing as we're going to be stuck next to each other for the next few hours, do you wanna tell the awesome me and my slightly less awesome friends some stuff about you?"

"How about you go shove your face in the toilet and flush it," the brunette replied. "It can't make it look any worse." The small chuckles Spain was emitting were not helping the situation, Prussia decided.

"You haven't even seen my face yet, so how can you say it's unawesome?" Prussia leaned in close, and flipped her hood off. She turned her head and met his glare full on.

Prussia hadn't been expecting her to look so… hot? Even though he was currently with Canada, that didn't mean he couldn't give others the praise they deserved. And she deserved it, all right. She had naturally tanned golden-brown skin, long brownish-black hair that was lightened in some places where it was streaked by the sun, and her light brown eyes- amber, almost, that were flecked with gold were framed by long eyelashes. Her full pink lips were set under a strong nose, and pursed in irritation, and her heavy brows- though not nearly as bad as England's- were drawn over her huge eyes.

To sum it all up, she was pretty. Pretty pissed off, that is.

"Will you please leave me alone," she snapped, though keeping her voice low so they wouldn't attract attention. "I would like to read, and not have my flight ruined by obnoxious albinos such as yourself."

"Oh, so kitty has claws," Prussia was happy. This would be a very fun airplane ride.

"Gilbert, Francis," Spain turned away from the aisle, where he had been watching the little kids in the row next to them, "you heard her. She wants to be left alone." He beamed, and the girl gave a small smile in return, her eyes thanking him.

"Fine, just after one more question." Prussia poked her again so she would look at him, and she glared at the albino with the fires of hell burning in her eyes. "What's your name, girly?"

"Why should I tell you?" She looked back down at her book, and flipped the page. "Now, kindly leave me alone."

"What letter does it start with? I bet I can guess it. M?" Prussia was obviously not giving up anytime soon.

"No." She turned the next page.

"C?" They were getting weird looks.

"That's closer." She ripped the page a little by gripping it too hard.

"A?" Prussia heaved an impatient breath when she didn't answer right away.

"Bingo, idiot." Cue eye roll.

"… Amelia? Amber? Alicia?" There was no way the awesome Prussia could fail to guess her name.

"No, no, and no. Will you leave me alone now?" She tapped her fingernails impatiently against the page she was currently reading.

"Ma chere, Gilbert will not leave you alone until he knows what he wants, so I suggest you tell him your name so he shuts up sooner rather than later." France's face was perfectly straight, and behind him, Spain nodded in confirmation.

"Fine. My name is Amiel. Happy? Now leave. Me. Alone." She pulled her hood back up, slouched into her seat, and buried her nose in the book once more.

"What if the awesome me doesn't want to?" Prussia was sure that she wouldn't have a comeback, but then again, he had a habit of underestimating people.

"Then I will call a flight attendant over and inform her that I am being sexually harassed. I'm pretty sure that's not going to make the other people at your meeting very happy, if you're held in airport custody." Prussia had been shocked into silence more in the few minutes he knew Amiel than he could remember his entire life.

"Wait…" Spain cocked his head quizzically. "How did you know we were going to a meeting?"

"It was pretty obvious." Next page. "You were talking about it in the gate when we were waiting to board, and Francis was flipping through papers dealing with some world issues." Next page.

Cue the stunned silence.

"… You're really smart, ma chere," France beamed and put a hand on her shoulder. Amiel immediately stiffened and glared up at him, disliking the personal contact. When the not-so-subtle-death-look didn't work, she raised her left hand to brush him off, but he grabbed her wrist. "Qu'est ce que c'est?" He rotated her hand, eyes focused on the fourth finger.

Where, surprisingly, a ring was located. "It's a ring, dumbass," she tried to pull her hand away but to no avail. France pulled the ring off her finger, and Amiel immediately freaked out, trying to get it back. "Give me my ring, you jackass," she sounded slightly panicked.

"Ahh, what is it that is written inside?" France peered more closely at the wedding ring- for it must be a wedding ring, non? It was on the correct finger. "…" He looked at Amiel, for the first time thinking that the girl may be more than she seemed. "It seems that you have some explaining to do, Amiel. If that is even your name…"

"Give me my ring back." Her voice was icy, and Prussia and Spain were now extremely confused.

"Wait, what was on the ring? Tell the awesome me what's happening!" Prussia poked France, and France looked up.

"I couldn't read all of it, it was in Hebrew, but there was one word written that I could understand. Rome. And in his own language." France turned so he was facing the mystery sitting next to him, and Spain leaned over as well.

"It was ancient Hebrew, that's why you couldn't read it, you idiot. If you could I'd be extremely impressed. Although France has it's fair share of Jews, I'm guessing that the nation as a whole does not speak the language?" She looked up at France, a cat-like expression on her face. She knew, but wasn't telling them outright.

"Wait… chica… You know?" Spain's eyebrows rose, and his smile turned into a confused one. "But how can you know?"

"The ring said נכס של רומא," she closed her eyes. "In English, it means: Property of Rome. He carved it in there in my language, and in his. Self-glorifying bastard." But her voice held a fond tone in it as well, as if she wasn't insulting him, but simply listing one of his more obvious traits. "If you aren't complete idiots, you should be able to put all the clues together. I'm betting on France to get it first."

Which, unsurprisingly, he did.

"Are you… No you can't be…" He made a noise of annoyance, and nudged the girl. "You're-"

Authoress' Random Ramble

I have attempted the impossible. A multi-chapter fic that's centered around an OC. Kill me now, before I let this project take over my life ^^ Well, I was sort of annoyed that there is no Israel in Hetalia, so I made this. I'll be pretty historically accurate (Israel and Rome do have a HUGE history together), but if I mess up, don't hesitate to tell me. Just don't try to bitch me out about Jewish customs, because I'm Jewish myself. :P (but I'll admit, I had to use Google translator for the 'Property of Rome' part, because my Hebrew knowledge is mostly prayers) And if you haven't figured out who Amiel is yet, here's a hint. LOOK AT THE TITLE

SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER *is shot * but I had to end it somewhere! Alright, before I forget, here are translations. (I try to explain them in the story, but there are some I didn't get to.)

Ma chere- my dear

Qu'est ce que c'est- what is this?

Less than three. Less than three.