This oneshot is considered "Safe For Work."

***Warnings: Coarse language.***

***Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia nor the characters in this chapter. The plot is mine.***

***PLEASE NOTE: YOU ALL ARE PERFECT THE WAY YOU ARE. THIS FANFIC IS NOT MADE TO MAKE YOU FEEL OTHERWISE, THERE IS A HIDDEN JOKE. YOU WILL UNDERSTAND BY THE END.***

A door slams open, the excessive force evident of the apparent anger. From the meeting room, the countries perked their heads and departed from somewhat calm conversations. A German, blue eyes ablaze and eyebrows precariously angled, stomped inside, dragging a young man behind him. He slammed the door with his free hand, tossing the other in front of him and pointing his finger accusatorially.

"Gott forbid the day I am no longer a nation and you still have this unhealthy habit!"

The Italian cowered, eyes teared up. "I-I'm sorry, Germany!" He scrambled upwards standing at attention despite his scolding. The smaller man sniffled. "I just wanted to make friends with the pretty girl!"

"MAKE FRIENDS!?" A vein seemed to throb. "Any other day I would be alright with this behavior but today we're on a tight schedule! In the name of Himmel and all that's in it, we're using SWITZERLAND'S CONFERENCE HOUSE THIS TIME!" The German crossed his arms, scowling. "He is not afraid to fucking shoot us out of this country if we're an inch out of place!"

Taking a shaky breath, Germany brought his hand to his temple and massaged it slowly. Honestly, this nation would be the end of him one day. "Just get to your seat. That girl would have rejected you anyway."

Italy, the brown haired man, began to whine a bit before receiving a glare and cowering once more. He retreated to an empty seat, placing his hands on his lap. The blonde let out another sigh. "Skirt chasing is a dangerous hobby. You need to stop that."

"I must disagree with that, Allemagne."

Turning his blue eyes to his neighboring country, Germany frowned. "Of course you would, France. You have always been one for irrationality." The Frenchman hid a small chuckle behind a gloved hand, mischievously peering at the German. The first frowned a bit awkwardly at the other nation's staring, stepping into his seat before coughing uncomfortably into his fist.

France opened his mouth to add onto his earlier statement but another interjected. "Of course you disagree, you have no sense of tact." Eyes now turned to the attendant with bushy brows, those being the most notable appearance on this man. He sipped his cup of tea before placing it into a saucer and then on the table top. The Englishman glared challengingly at his old adversary. "It's all 'luvey duvey' in France, isn't it?"

At this retort, the flirtatious nation waved his hand, annoyed by the other's comment. "As if you could do better. I've seen a gnat with more allure."

Twitching emerged from the right brow. "Oh? You want to go, frog?" England's eyes lit up, internal fire kindling. "I can wipe the floor with your arse."

The Frenchman chuckled deeply, amused the threat. "I see a challenge, merde de elephante."

"Did you just call me 'shit of elephant'?"

Germany slammed the table with his hand, not in the mood to stand. Chasing down Italy and dragging him down here had used up most of his energy, as usual. "Enough, you idiots, before my brains blow out."

The two archenemies, seeing the German was too tired to do his typical scolding, started to insult each other more openly to the point of them leaning across the table to choke each other. As the other nations stepped in, the Italian stealthily slid out of his seat and towards the door.

"I'll just sneak out to see her now..." He mumbled to himself, trying to keep himself as inconspicuous as possible.

"Yo!" A voice called out, making the young man's hair curl twitch upwards. Maybe it wasn't for him...? "Italy!"

Sighing in defeat, he turned around to see the closer closer than he appeared. Startled, he began squeaking out an excuse of his escape.

"NO! I WASN'T TRYING TO ESCAPE! PLEASE DON'T HURT ME, I HAVE RELATIVES IN NEW YORK!"

The American smiled in response but hurriedly put a finger to his lips. "No, no, not at all, dude. Shhhhh. Or else your friend Buffy the Ripped Muscleman's gonna come over here and actually try to get the meeting started." He patted the Italian's shoulder in an attempt to calm him and slowly the European obliged.

Italy tilted his head curiously. "Why don't you want to get the meeting started?" He asked, searching his mind for reasoning. From what he remembered... It was just on economics, right?

The blonde ran a hand through his hair, carrying a sheepish grin. "...I kind of owe some people money."

"...Don't you owe us all money?"

An arm wrapped around Italy's shoulders as America grinned enthusiastically. "Hey, so who's this chick that's caught your eye? She hot?"

The European's curl popped up. "The girl? Oh, si, she was really cute!"

A nudge to his ribs. "What's with you, holding back on me? Tell me the dets!"

His slender fingertips pressed together in excitement and he began to bounce a bit. "Well, she had her hair in a braid and a cute skirt! She was carrying groceries from the store and I was chatting with her until Germany came around and told me to stop flirting." Here, he crossed his arms and made a pouting face. "But I wasn't flirting! I was just having a conversation with a girl I thought was attractive!"

America rubbed his chin a bit in thought. "Well, I don't think she'd be my type at first glance. But damn, you want to pick up girls everywhere."

The Italian beamed. "I think all girls are cute. Ponytails, braids, bobs, short hair, long hair. But from personal preference, I'd enjoy gentle and motherly girls. They like complimenting my cooking and make me feel all nice inside."

The other chuckled. "It'd seem she'd have a field day with you since you'd be everywhere. As for me, I'd like someone who liked the stuff I do! We'd go outdoors and play sports and video games!"

Italy smiled a bit humorously, seeing how the American would be much harder to keep up with than himself.

"You never did seem like the romantic type, America." The two turned to a third who had stood from a distance watching the conversation. He towered over both of them, an ever present smile on his face. Italy shied behind America, a bit intimidated by the new arrival's presence. "Then again, romance does not seem to be your forte."

"Nope!" He replied, cooly. "I care about someone who would have fun with me! Then again, we could have fun with that kind of stuff once and a while." America let out a laugh. "What, do you want a girl as cold as you are?"

Surprisingly, the Russian seemed to blush a bit, smiling shyly at the comment. "No, not really. I'd much prefer someone with honest eyes. Maybe someone who'd follow the rules." He put a finger on his chin, looking up to the ceiling in thought. "I think I'd be satisfied with a good kid who wasn't ordinary. That may be seem very general but it's harder than you think."

Having been drawn out by the talk of women, Italy emerged unafraid. "Wow, Russia, I didn't think you'd be into people like that!"

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "What kind of partner did you think I would like?"

"Um..." The smaller man bit his lip in concentration. "I thought you'd like shy girls who liked quiet activities!"

"Hm..." Russia lowered his gaze to the floor, considering the suggestion carefully. "I wouldn't say the idea would be unappealing."

"Hon, hon, are we talking about women?" A voice interjected with an interested tone. France appeared to the group, unharmed and undeterred from his small brawl.

"Big Brother France!" Italy called in surprise. "I thought you were arguing with England?"

The Frenchman flipped his locks gaudily, frowning a bit. "I just got scolded by Germany but now he's scolding that British bastard." A satisfied smirk now set in and he waved his hand in a showy fashion, pushing the subject aside. "Now, what kind of girl we would like? That is the topic, oui?"

America grinned. "Totes dude. You'd go for one of your Parisian women, right?" He started to strut a bit to exemplify his view of their sophisticated nature, throwing an imaginary boa over his shoulder with an inexistent wine glass in the other hand. Italy hid a grin.

The other country chuckled as well before flicking the American on the forehead to cease his mocking. "Women are all lovely, mon cher. However, I especially find those with a

flowery scent attractive."

The tallest among them tilted his head in confusion. "You mean you sniff your women?"

"Of course not!" France exclaimed, throwing his head back dramatically. "The French just have a sensitive sense of smell!" He set a hand at his chin, thinking carefully. "Personality wise, I'd enjoy someone who is cool with a fiery passion underneath. Of course, singing would also be a plus since it's a hobby of mine."

"Oi, what are you all talking about?" The Brit entered the scene, a vein bulging in his forehead and an obvious sense of annoyance. He had been scolded longer by Germany due to his short temper. Since England 'knew better', the Frenchman got off easy while he had to endure a lecture.

"Women," his adversary answered curtly, that satisfied smirk returning. "As if you'd have a taste."

The comment successfully agitated him. "Excuse you, frog, but I do have a taste! A good sense of literature would be appealing to me, strong personality." He stopped to cross his arms and calmly finish his reply. "They'd also like spending time discussing various topics of interest over a cup of tea. Earl Grey, of course."

"Basically they wouldn't grow bored of you."

Green eyes darkened and he raised his hands to reach for the Frenchman's collar. "HOW ABOUT I CHOKE YOU SOME MORE?" He hissed, the crazed look returning to both their eyes.

"I thought I told you two to stop fighting!" The German yelled, stopping the moment

of violence. England let out a Che, releasing his grip and stepping away from his would be victim. Germany and Japan came towards the group, Germany still glaring at England. Japan frowned concerned.

"Please," he pleased, "It's not good for your health to yell so much."

"Hey, Japan!" The Japanese man turned to America, questioning his call. "Let's hear your input!" The American encouraged, confusing the other even more.

"What...?"

Italy began to bounce excitedly. Who would have known this conversation would have become so interesting? "Si! What kind of girl would Japan like?"

Put on the spot, he felt pressured for an answer. Japan stood to attention, as if answering a squadron leader. "Um... Someone traditional and lovable...?"

A murmur of agreement came through the crowd, along with a couple head nods. "That would be someone Japan would like," Italy announced for them.

Germany crossed his arms, huffing. "Alright, everyone, stop with the idle chitchat. Let's start the meeting already." He was far from annoyed from the chatter and too tired to yell.

"Oh, but everyone was having such fun." The Russian frowned, twisting around his scarf end. Nevertheless, the countries walked toward their seats. America stood nervously, not really wanting to step forward.

The Frenchman noticed, nudging him in shared distress. An idea suddenly struck him and he turned to the German. "All of us have answered except Germany!"

England stopped pulling out his chair, looking up. "Oh, you're quite right."

The tall blonde, coughed into his fist, abashed by the question. "I don't find that necessary-"

"No." The countries went in unison.

"Urm... Well...,

"Come on, Germany!" The Italian coaxed, leaning on his chair with both hands and extremely interested. Germany always scolded him for liking girls so why not find out Germany's interest? "It shouldn't be that hard! What kind of girl would make you happy?"

Understanding this to be a way out, America added onto the cheering. "You got it, dude!"

Looking around the table, the German attempted to push in another excuse. His face grew red seeing there would be no use avoiding the topic. He cleared his throat, squeezing out an answer. "Erm... Appearance would be taken into account, I believe... Probably someone who had a gentle personality, but only once you got to know her-"

The doors slammed open once more, halting his explanation. "Why haven't you started the meeting yet?" Switzerland yelled. He stood at the doorway with a rifle strapped to his back and an angered expression on his face. "Are you just wasting time in my facilities again?"

"We just got a bit sidetracked-" England started, not wanting to face the Swiss's wrath. He was cut off by another slam, this time on the table.

"It should have started an hour ago! All of you! Out! Now!"

"You can't just kick us out!"

"I am if you're wasting my time and my money!" Switzerland pulled out his rifle to show he meant business.

"We weren't getting anywhere anyway." The German interrupted before a barrage of bullets befell them. "Meeting adjourned until the next organized date."

Turning away from the group, America gave a small fist pump and whispered victoriously. "Yes!"

The nation's began to gather their belongings, ready to depart from another unsuccessful meeting.

After collecting the few papers given to him, Italy skipped over to his friend. "Germany, do you want to come over to my place for gelato?"

He sighed, rubbing his temple tiredly. As much as he liked visiting Italy's homeland, he felt too exhausted to face anymore of Italy's shenanigans. "You'd probably end up flirting again."

Disappointed at Germany's unwillingness to join him, he stepped next to him and began speaking in a sing-song voice. "We can try picking up one of those girls-"

Germany slammed his briefcase shut. "I'm going home and that is final!"

"Italy, I'd like to go with you." The Frenchman came up to the pair, papers tucked under his arm and a relieved look, similar to the one America wore.

"Really?" Italy bounced about excitedly. So he wouldn't be alone! "Cool!"

The German sighed, heaving his briefcase off the table and starting for the door. "Just don't get into trouble, you two." These Roman-related countries...

At the other side of the room, Japan jogged over to America's side. "I believe we are staying at the same hotel, correct?"

He paused, thinking a moment. "Oh, yeah! Sure, I'd happily give you and England a lift!" America nudged Japan. "He decided to stay a while here too."

The Brit approached, straightening his tie. "That would be appreciative... But does your car still smell like food grease?"

"What do you mean by that?"

England stopped fixing his tie, looking pitifully at Japan and his future plight."...I think I'll take a taxi." He exited the room, leaving the American and Japanese man to stay where they were.

"Could I possibly carpool with you as well?" Russia called, approaching. He stood patiently with a smile, not exactly expecting him to deny.

"Sure!" America accepted with enthusiasm. "Just try not to block my view when I drive!"

His smiling demeanor darkened, anger slowly spilling in. "...Are you insinuating I am too large?"

"America," the Asian began to warn, urging them out the door. "I don't think this is a road we wish to tread upon." The group left the room, leaving only too occupants.

The host country approached the quieter one, still annoyed at his presence. "I thought I told you to leave." This caused the Canadian to look up from his book.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. I knew the meeting probably wouldn't go anywhere so I brought a book to read." Canada raised his source of entertainment.

The Swiss sighed. At least this one wasn't as annoying. "You're honestly the only one who wasn't talking about girls. Even Germany was."

"It's quite interesting, eh?" He chuckled. "But they do realize they technically described themselves..." He paused, looking confused to Switzerland. "Right?"

He waved a hand angrily, pointing to the door. "Let those dolts figure it out on their own. Now out."

Idea based off of the strip "What kind of girls are to your liking?"

scanlations/hetathehon/heta_

Author's Note:

A present for all of you! I wish all of you a Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year, wherever you may be.

P.S. I won't be able to post the next chapter of "Unwilling Matchmaker" tomorrow so January 13th will be a double update.