Disclaimer: No, I don't own this...
This was created from a look at the LJ kink board...The fun, now if only I could find out how to go anon!
Alfred F. Jones was the anthropomorphic representative of the United States of America, not that the man across from him knew that. As far as Arthur Kirkland, the anthropomorphic representative of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, was concerned he was another low level administrator following the President like a lost puppy. The Presidents over the years had asked why he was not like the others, going to meetings talking with his own kind, and he had replied, "The nations are stuck on the aspect that we all are willing to see them, expand ourselves. I see no reason when my time can be better spent here, after all I've been hiding for so long they think I don't exist."
And really as far as the older nations, except England for some odd reason, seemed to believe that he didn't exist. He was the anomaly in their lives, the nation with out a man or woman that could speak for the people. Matthew Williams, his younger brother or Canada, was more then willing to take his papers into the meetings and tell them what needed to be done and why. He didn't seem to mind that he had a secret brother, kind of like the puppy you sneak in and hide from your parents.
"Hello Mr. Kirkland, it seems that we will be working together to make this treaty." The bright smiling American said happily. "Sod off, I do not need any help." Arthur stated annoyed, why must he have the American working with him? Because Matthew would not tell them who he talked to on the phone all the time, damn that Canadian.
"Come on now Mr. Kirkland, my boss and your boss want us to do something. Can't we work together for the short amount of time that it will take?" The prat was insistent, "I've heard from some of the other administrators that you like tea, if you work with me, I will make you some."
"And what, pray tell, reason would I drink tea that a bloody American made?" Arthur asked, he was seemed to be angry. "My brother says I'm very good at it thank you very much, and he was adopted by a British man when we where little." Alfred pouted, his lower lip sticking out lightly, he loved messing with other nation's heads like this.
What had he been thinking, no cup of tea was worth this...whirlwind of a man talking about a mile per minute. He had sat down and gotten his tea only for the lad to erupt into a wave of papers and military jargon so strange even he couldn't follow. Not to mention the fact he kept glancing at the clock to see how much time was left before it was over. This Jones character was almost as bad as France, almost.
Alfred love messing with them, he really did. Last week he had reduced Germany, the neat freak that he was, into a pile of motionless annoyance, having coated the entire office in layers of glue, paper and ink. France had gotten several bruises from 'hitting' on the President's wife, a really nasty one over his left eye. Northern Italy, the Southern one was quite annoying, had seemingly run out of pasta for the entire day, reducing him to a mass of tears. He hadn't meant to actually make the man cry, so he slid the pasta out from where it had been hidden saying he had some.
It was a game to him, after all it wasn't as if he had ever been caught, not by them at least, Matthew had yelled at him more then once for doing such horrid things to the others. They had some strange law that they could only hurt humans if they where hurt first, defending another nation, or at war.
"Mr. Jones, why do you keep checking the clock?" Arthur asked finally. "Call me Alfred, Mr. Jones makes me feel old. My brother has some important information for me and he should be calling in the next two hours, I can't miss it." He said, it was true, Canada was going to tell him what he needed for the next world meeting. "I see, shall we take a short break of lunch?" Arthur watched him closely. "If you want to Mr. Kirkland. Do you know any good restaurants around?" He asked keeping his eyes on the paper in his hand. "McDonald's?" Arthur suggested. "No, really can't eat that much of it you know, obesity and all."
"There is a little bistro down the road on the left." Arthur said thoughtfully. "Cool, want to come?" Alfred asked hopping out his chair. He shook his head and the American left, closing the door tightly behind him.
Alfred blinked having finally, after twenty minutes of searching, found the bistro. Where was his cell phone? Oh, hell he had left it with the other nation in his office, and he was expecting a call from Matthew in the next ten minutes. Fuck.
Arthur picked up the phone as it started to play the Canadian national anthem. Glancing around he answered it. "Alfred, do you have the papers that I need for the meeting?" Shouted the voice on the other end. "Matthew? You know Alfred Jones?" Arthur asked innocently.
"Drop my phone." Alfred snapped throwing open the door. Arthur looked at him innocently, the phone resting in the middle of the desk. "Really America, I thought you would be more mature then that." Alfred froze, how?
"Matthew is a wonderful source of information, when you know how to get it. So you've been hiding in plain sight all this time." Arthur continued smiling. "I'm still mad about you taking my land with out my permission, England. You're lucky that my people didn't like your rule any better then I did." Alfred replied snatching up his phone. "Really? Why didn't you ever leave your forests?" He asked leaning back in his chair. "Simple, you never interested me enough. Sure your inventions where amazing and all, but nothing that I couldn't build in time. That and Matthew said that France was a pervert and you couldn't cook. Not the greatest choices if you ask me."
"Don't forget, I'm expecting you to be at the next meeting." Arthur said shaking his hand. "Shut it England, I won't Matthew will make sure that I'm there. It's about time I met the other nations anyway." Alfed sulked, now he had to go to those horrible things too. "So, do you know why France's face is been so messed up?"
I should write about him going to the meeting, ne? How am I suppose to do that? ...Any ideas?
I'll go die now...I can't believe I've submitted this.