Full Summery: America decides that he wants to be a human and live among them without the influence of the government for a while, just to see what it's really like for his people and actually stay in his own land for more than a week and maybe go to someplace other than D.C. for the majority of it. Queue the panic of the special division tasked with protecting Alfred. What are they going to do? And why did Alfred suddenly want to do this? Surely it had nothing to do with the three men wanting to kill him, does it? And what happened to Molossia, England, Sealand and the other countries? Why are the powerful nation personifications suddenly working together? What's going on? Oh, America, what did you do?

Declaimer: I don't owe Hetalia, it belongs to Himarya Hidekazu.

Chapter 1: The Mission Briefing

Jason Pouras, a brown haired and brown eyes 31-year-old Mexican-America four years out of military service and working as a government lawyer, somehow found himself standing in front of the Secret Service Headquarters in D.C. How this came to be, Jason wasn't sure, but he was glade to have accepted the job. Don't get him wrong, he loved being a lawyer, it was fun, but he also missed the thrills and actions that doesn't come with so much headache and stress over paperwork and politics.

Jason walked into the building and handed the charming young lady at the front desk his papers. She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, probably not believing the fact that he was whom she may or may not be waiting for. She didn't ask or said to him what most would've though, instead, she gave him the direction leading to the room he was suppose to be in. Jason guessed that it was part of her job, and that was fine with him. He doesn't like people asking for his age and commenting that he looked like a man in his early to mid 20s and not 30s anyways.

Jason made his way to the room, checking his watch. Good, he wasn't late. He walked through the doors and was met with three males sitting along the small rectangular table, the head facing the white screen in the front of the room.

Jason nodded to the only male who appeared older in the room, and the black haired man gave Jason a small smile as he nodded back, his arms cross as he sat next to a boy who appeared to be his charge.

The boy had black hair and green eyes, unlike his guardian, who had brown eyes. The boy, who couldn't be older than 19, had a smudged look on his face, as though he knew something that was amusing yet wasn't going to tell. There was something mischievous about him that somehow just made Jason's skin clawed and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on ends.

"Hi," said Jason. "I hope I'm not late." He walked farther into the room.

"No, not at all," said the older man, standing up to sake hands with him. "Hi, I'm Miles. Miles Stone. And I'm guessing you're Mr. Jason Pouras?"

"Yes."

"Right. Take a seat buddy." He motioned to the seat next to the boy typing away on the computer. "Boss, and Boss Man should be here any minute now… if he behaved…" Miles sighed tiredly and took his seat.

Jason took a seat next to the blond haired boy who sat on the window side of the room, and whose appearance shocked Jason, for the boy appeared as though he ought to still be in the first few years of high school. Was it possible for such a young person to be working for the Secret Service? Jason wondered, taking a seat next to the child, who turned his glasses covered eyes away from the screen of his laptop and up toward Jason.

Jason nodded at the boy and his frowning face suddenly turned into a bright smiled, surprising Jason with how innocent and childish it looked; it was as if the boy had no knowledge of the real cruelty of the world, which worried Jason a little, considering the fact that he was here, of all places. But Jason supposed that this might just be better than the front line, and considering what the kid had on his computer, Jason really don't doubt his qualification.

"I'm Charlie," the boy introduced himself, his British accent clearly visible and revealing of his origin. "I'm 16, by the way- just in case you were wondering- and unlike you, I do actually look my age sir." One of Jason's eyebrows went up. "Oh, sorry. I couldn't help it. When I accepted the offer and found out about my teammates, I just couldn't help doing some background checks on you. But no worries, I didn't get that deep."

Jason nodded and looked toward the other boy. The boy smirked as though he knew what Jason wanted, and Jason had the feeling that he didn't want to answer it. To his surprise however, the boy reached out his hand from across the table and introduced himself.

"Nicholas," he said. "Just call me Nick." His grip suddenly tightened and became stronger as he pulled Jason a bit over the table, examining the watch around his risk. "Nice watch. A-"

"Let go, Owens," said Miles. "You're already wanted by the French, German, and Italian government for what you did to them. Don't go digging up more holes boy. He seems to have high hopes for you and wants to give you a second chance at this. So don't let him down, okay?"

Nick scoffed. "Yeah, whatever," he said. "Just make this more interesting than jail time, okay?"

The door suddenly opened again and in came a tall and well built Negro man in a black suite, followed closely by another man in black, except this man had dirty blond hair and brown eyes, and unlike the black agent, this paper carrying man had a joyful smile on his face. Seeing that seemed to make Miles happy, as he smiled in amusement at his co-worker.

"Well, don't you look happy about this, Jerry," Miles commented.

"Well duh," said Jerry. "I get to pass this task off to someone else and not have to worry so much for… what? A year?" He turned to the stoic black man. "I can finally have some peace of mind and actually enjoy my job without worries and maybe take a stress free vacation that actually lasts more than 30 minutes for once!"

"You agreed and sighed up for the job yourself, Jerry," the black man retorted.

"I know. And I don't regret it… on some days. I'm really starting to question my sanity right now."

"Aren't we all?" said Miles.

Jerry muttered some stuff under his breath, his eyes glanced upward in calculation before the Negro man hit him and brought him back to them. "Anyways," he said, turning to Miles, "aren't you also glade to actually get to sit down for once and just watch this, Miles?"

Miles shrugged. "Don't know. I kinda had fun. Kept on my toes and all that shit."

"Me too, man. Me too." Jerry shook his head as he thought of the memories. "When I was younger and had more sparks."

"True."

The black man suddenly cleared his throat and brought his two subordinates out of their thoughts. Miles straightened up and Jerry went ahead to passing out the files in his hands to the three new recruits of the POTION division.

"Morning everyone," said the black man. "My mane is Alex Freedman, the person in charge of this division, and the men sitting here with you today are my two assistances, Jerry Corbel and Miles Stone."

"Excuse me sir," Charlie raised his hand. "May I ask a question?"

"Go right ahead, Mr. Wilson, the child genius who was actually curious enough to dared to try and hack into our system and made our dear Jerry here suddenly want to take on a pupil."

Charlie blushed, but kept his composure as he said, "Pardon my… curiosity, but what does POTION stand for? What does this division do, and why is it a different division all on it's own? I thought that the Secret Service only had one division and was suppose to protect the president-"

"We do protect the president," said Miles. "It's just that he's not our number one priority. THAT is." Alex and Jerry nodded somewhat grimly in agreement, his eyes caste downward.

"And what exactly is THAT?" said Nick, pushing on due to his curious and bold personality whereas Charlie backed off due to his reserved one.

"You'll know once you pass the test," said Alex. "For now, just know that we are not your typical Secret Service, but we are, essentially, a combination of the Secret Service, the CIA, ad the FBI. Practically the elite of the elite."

"And the most paranoid out of the bunch because of the nature of THAT," Miles whispered off to the side.

Alex glared at him. "Now than," he continued, turning back to the new recruits, "for your recruitment mission. Please open the files to the first page and read over the information."

The three new trainee did as they were asked and found a picture of a blond haired, blue eyes man smiling back at them in a carefree manner.

"What is this?" Charlie questioned, confused.

"This is our… well, more like your mission now." He glanced off to the side. "Temporarily..."

Nick raised an eyebrow in confusion and curiosity as he studied Alex's reaction. "What?" he asked.

"That man, Alfred F. Jones, he is the man you are to get close to and protect."

"Protect?" Jason questioned.

"Pardon?" Charlie said at the same time as Jason, confused.

"Yes. Protect," Alex restated. "Sources have informed us that some… anonymous Mexican, Spanish, and Portuguese men are targeting Mr. Jones. Your job is to protect Mr. Jones from these three men, befriend him, and make sure that he doesn't fine out about who you are and what you are there to do, otherwise you will fail our test and then we will all be in big trouble."

"Trouble?" Charlie questioned, looking uneasy.

"Trouble," Alex confirmed seriously. "Mr. Jones holds certain… highly classified national information that we do not want others to get their hands on, you see. And he's not a… very cooperative man, let's say, so…"

"By that, you mean to say that you guys can't tame him because you're all too old?" Nick remarked. "So you need us youngsters to do it for you? Because you can't keep up with him?" Nick seemed to be very interested in this Alfred F. Jones now, it seemed.

The older men, who were at least 10 to 20 years older than Jason, glared at him. Then Alex motioned with his head to Jerry, who slides three other folders onto the table and toward their intended targets.

The three confused newly met teammates opened the folders and read over the information, their eyes widening just a bit.

"You will go under cover, of course," Alex explained. "And, because he is so stubborn, you will all be attending Harvard as freshmen with him."

"Um, sir?" Charlie raised his hand. "Aren't I a little-"

"If you could give our Jerry so mush fuss, than you're intelligent enough to attend college, if not have already graduated by now, Mr. Wilson."

"Really kid, what were you doing in London for all those years, being a shut in or something?" Miles boldly spoke up. "I mean seriously, a kid with talents like you should've already graduated Oxford with flying colors! Really, what have you been doing all these years? Was London that depressing?"

Charlie blushed.

"It's not his fault, Miles," Jerry spoke up for his pupil. "And I think you're hanging around that guy too much."

Miles smirked. "You think I have reasons not to?" he asked.

"Anyways. Charlie's only like this because he had an accident and was in a coma for the last 3 years. In order to get better treatment, he was transferred here, where his mom remarried the man who helped them out and became a US citizen, permanently living here. Charlie just recovered and got out of the hospital not a few days ago. Give him a break, Miles, or do you want his new daddy coming for you?"

"Who's his new daddy?"

"The guy over in Russia right now."

Miles' face paled over. "You're Ryan Butler's step son?!"

"Yes?" Charlie seemed unsure.

"I'm guessing you don't know much about your new daddy, do you?" said Jerry.

"No," Charlie confirmed, shaking his head. "He wasn't always there…"

"So he dropped that chip without knowing and you picked it up, hah?" Jerry seemed amused. "He got a raise from me for that, you know."

Charlie blushed. "I was bored. And he said that he'd bring me a new game. I thought that that was the new game, so…"

"Well, not only do you have to tell your mom that you'll be going to one of the best colleges in the world, but you'll also have to tell your new daddy that you managed to crack a Russian code that he couldn't and was actually the one to help him out in this. Not to mention… that you'll actually be taking this test. You okay, boss?"

Alex looked stressed. "I'm gonna need a pick me up after this, or whenever Butler finds out and comes for me," he said, throwing his head back, then looked at Nick, who seemed to be glaring holes into his file and threw it onto the table, making it slide toward Jason.

He scoffed. "Of course," said Nick, mockingly. "College. What could be worst than prison?"

"It's not that bad, Mr. Owens," said Alex. "I assure you. You'll fine yourself quite enjoying college. Partying and all that." Nick smiled. "However, I want you to keep your grades up, Nicky." Nick frowned. "Otherwise it's off to boring old prison behind locks, keys and guards you'll go. And of course, you'll be wearing that jumpsuit too-"

"All right! I get it!" Nick explored, much to Alex's amusement. "I'll behave, damn it. Anything but that unfashionable thing."

"Good. Term starts next week. Get ready," he laughed somewhat dryly, "because it's gonna be one hell of a year for you boys. Oh, and Jason," Alex and the others stopped at the door, "you're the eldest, you're in charge. Take good care of them!"

"Yes sir!" Jason saluted out of habit.

College? He though. I have to go back? Jason turned toward his two teammates. With them? He inwardly sighed. Please don't let it be anything like my days in the front line.

Next Chapter: Meet The Mission

Alfred finally appears and we get to see some hero saving damsel in distress actions!

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