*I would first like to sincerely apologize for a few problems in grammatical structure in this story. It was written at 3:00 in the morning. I vow that these mistakes will be rectified very soon. But for now, please don't let it distract you from the many goods in this story. I take a sincere pride in this one. Enjoy.

A Debt Paid

Ireland awoke in her Dublin house at around 7:30 in the morning to the sound of her house phone ringing. 'Who in the motherfucking hell is that?' she thought as she groggily arose from her bed. Her house phone was in her parlor downstairs, which wouldn't be too much of a problem if her head weren't also ringing. Living up to her reputation she perhaps had one too many the night before. "Shite," she exclaimed. The ringing stopped by the time she got there. She checked the ID and saw a government number. "Fucking bastards," Ireland said aloud. 'Don't they know to fucking call me on my mobile in the morning,' she thought. 'I ask them to do that every damn time!' Ireland picked up the phone and hesitated as to whether she should press the redial button. "Could go back to sleep right now. It'd be very easy to." She finally pressed it and with the receiver held up by her shoulder she walked into the kitchen to get herself some leftovers. The phone ringed as she checked her fridge. There was some pizza left over from the night before; she grabbed herself a slice.

"Áras an Uachtaráin," a young woman's voice said with a Cork accent, no doubt a college intern, Ireland thought. "Yeah, hi, this is Ireland," she said after she swallowed her slice of pizza. "Yes, this is Ireland. May I ask who is calling," the lady said back. Ireland rolled her eyes, it was to early in the morning for this. "No, I mean this is the Ireland!" "Oh, Ms. Ireland! I apologize," the lady responded. "Yeah, so the President is looking for you. She wants you to come in at your earliest convenience." Ireland paused for a moment and reflected. "Okay, I'm gonna make myself some breakfast right now, and I'll head over immediately after. I'll be there in about two hours. You wouldn't happen to know what she wants me for, would you?" "Sorry, I wasn't told," the intern replied. "Yeah, I didn't think so, the bastards. Alright, I'll be over in a couple hours."

The two gave their farewells and Ireland hung up. She made herself some breakfast, then went to shower and brush her teeth, and went through the whole morning routine. She then got dressed into something presentable and checked the weather. It was mildly rainy per usual, so she didn't bother with a raincoat or anything and then left the house to meet her boss. As she drove, she turned on the radio to hear a pop song play, something by some new singer, Justin Beiber or something. "God, this American bollocks infecting my airwaves," she exclaimed as she turned the dial to the traditional station. The Clancy Brothers rendition of "I'll Tell Me Ma" was playing. "Yeah," she said. "Now, that's real music!" It took about twenty minutes to arrive at Phoenix Park. As she neared the checkpoint, she pulled out her ID card and stamped it on the windshield. She stopped at the checkpoint. Five seconds went by before the guard started to inspect the car. "Look at my badge, you arse! Look at the badge!" She honked the horn and pointed towards her badge. The guard finally realized the deal and went back to lower barrier. "That's right, you gobshite," she said as she proceeded.

Ireland finally reached Áras an Uachtaráin and walked down the all-familiar corridor towards the president's office. She went up to the secretary, who was new, as far Ireland could tell having never seen her before. "Um, hello. I'm Ireland." The secretary's face lit up as if she were in the presence of a celebrity. She was new. "Oh, why good morning, Miss Ireland. Glad to see you've made it all right. "Yep, I'm here to deal with the politricks." The secretary laughed at that. The new secretaries always did. But then she went back to her computer screen. "Um, aren't you suppose to…" she said as she pointed to the phone. "Ah, yes! Right," the secretary said embarrassedly. "New to the job, you see." "I didn't notice," Ireland responded. She chuckled again as she rung up the president. "Alright, you can go in."

Ireland opened to door to find President McAleese at her desk. "Good morning, Ms. Ireland," she said as she stood up from her seat. Ireland shook her hand. "Good to see you again, Madame President." Ireland sat down. "I'd ask if you call me on my mobile next time, but seeing as how that never happens, I just won't." The president chuckled. "I'll see to it that the next time we summon you this early, it will be through your mobile." Ireland doubted it. The president then returned to her computer screen for a brief second. Ireland didn't mind being a little patient with her; she was a good president. "Okay, so here's the thing," she said. "As you know the economy is in a spot of trouble and we're on the brink of financial disaster. "Yeah, I know. I still get colds often," Ireland responded. "So, what's the mystery?"

"As you know yourself, we need to get some bailouts quickly, but our friend Germany is holding up the EU finances since he and his people are skeptical that we'll use it wisely."

"Yeah, again, tell me something I don't know." Ireland didn't hold it personally against Germany for making bailouts difficult. She discredited herself when she allowed her politicians to bring the country into deficit. Germany was in his right to be a little skeptical, especially since he balances his budget effectively and has the most at the stake if the bailouts should fail. But Ireland was curious as to where her boss was going with this.

"Well, the financial minister and I have been talking, and so have me and the prime minister," she continued. "And we fell that maybe that…" She paused, deliberately choosing her words. Ireland leaned in a little. "Before I continue actually, can I offer you a drink," McAleese asked as she pointed to the bar globe in the closest corner to the desk, which Ireland genuinely believed was requirement for all world political leaders to have in their offices. "I mean, I know it's only 9:15, but what's the harm? I mean, you love to drink, right?"

"I'm not an alcoholic," Ireland said back. "I'm hung over from last night, so I'm fine. Please get on with what you have to say, Ms. McAlesse, please. I want to go back to sleep." The president showed a cautious look on her face.

"Alright, there's no easy way to ask this of you. We've been thinking that perhaps that you should go and ask your brother for money."

Ireland's eyes widened. "What? Who?" "Your brother," replied the president. "England, or Britain." "That's who I thought you meant," Ireland said loudly. "Why? Why England of all people?"

"Well, because as you know Germany is taking too slow and France doesn't show any real interest in helping out anytime soon…"

"Yeah, but I meant, why him," Ireland cut her off. "Why him especially? Why not America! Yeah, America – we get along pretty well, and he is the champion, after all, or something along those lines!"

"Oh come on now, you know what his government is like," the president responded. "They can barely agree on tax rates let alone decide on bailing out a country they have no stake in! And even if he did accept, we'd probably have to comply with a whole list of precedents aimed at Americanizing us or owe them a favor or something. And I for one don't believe invading Iran or whatever country they want to pick fights with next is worth some bailout dollars worth less than our currency!"

"God, its just…." Ireland grumbled. "I fought a war! We fought a war so that I would be self reliant and independent from him! And after all that as well as the famine and all the other shite he put me through, I have to groveling to him for money! The thought alone brings my piss to a boil! And that will make us look good and strong in the eyes of the British and the rest of the world – going back and asking our former oppressor for a loan!"

"Um, it's actually a bailout, not a loan. You don't have to pay it bac…"
"I KNOW WHAT IT IS!" The president jumped back a little. Clearly, this request struck a deep chord in her country. Perhaps, this was something they shouldn't have asked her to do.

"I know, Erin, I know, but we're desperate here," replied the president. "And besides I thought you two were beginning to get along well again?" Ireland somberly reflected on that. It was true that they were beginning to get along better lately. Their leaders were cooperating more and she and him often championed the same causes together in the EU. "Yeah, but this is a major step. I mean, there's getting along and then there's asking for money!" Ireland was silent again for another moment. "Can I have that drink now? Tullamore Dew, please?" The president went up to the globe and fetched Ireland's drink. She gave her nation the drink. The president was a little stunned. She wasn't expecting this request to be received fairly by Ireland, but didn't exactly this level of bitterness from her. She assumed that since the political leadership and between the two countries was stronger and public opinion on both sides more favorable that the two nations would kind of be friends. But it appears that the countries much like people themselves possess to an extent their own thoughts and emotions independent from politics and public opinion.

"Why are you asking me to do this," asked the country after her third sip of whiskey. "You could have just asked his leaders without my consent. You're not required to inform me of every little decision you do."

"Because we felt, and obviously we we're correct, that this wasn't some little decision. We didn't want you to feel that we went behind your back and you made you look foolish." Ireland took another sip of her whiskey, processing that. She, like all countries, sometimes felt that her politicians were a pack of greedy incompetents who just wanted to exploit her for their own interests, but it's good to see that the majority of them still felt strong loyalty and care for her. Obviously, asking this of her wasn't easy for them, and McAleese has always been a strong and loyal, Catholic president, despite being from North's territory. "Ugh, I bet North is gonna laugh at me for this, too," the nation grumbled inaudibly. McAleese leaned in a little trying to catch what Ireland just said.

Ireland finished her whiskey and then stood up. "Alright," she said as she hand her president her glass. "I'll do it." The president cast a smile, but it faded a little when she saw Ireland's defeated look. "I'll do it for my people. They need me." "Thank you, Erin," the president responded as she shook her nation's hand. "This is really big of you." "Yeah, I know," was all the nation could muster up as a reply. "If you'll excuse me, Madame President, but I'm gonna go back to sleep for awhile. "Of course, of course. Get your strength back! I understand."

Ireland left Áras an Uachtaráin and returned home. She immediately fell onto her couch and closed her eyes. She was exhausted. Before she slumbered, she thought of England for a second – she thought about the time she confronted him about the Famine and when she declared independence from him in 1916. "Gobshite," she said before she began to drift off into sleep. "Fucking gobshite."

*Author's Note

So, third Hetalia fanfic in a span of a month! I'm on a role. So, this one is kind of a sequel in a sense that everything historical is a sequel to a previous event, to my story "The Grudge Begins Between Ireland and England" where Ireland requests aide from England for the 1848 Potato Famine, which is mentioned in here a couple of times. This story is set in around 2010 when I explicitly remember Ireland requesting a bailout for England. There were mixed reactions to the move here and in Ireland and I thought it would make an interesting story. I think Justin Beiber was relatively new on the scene then, too, so i don't think that was wrong. Even if he wasn't, it can always be interpreted as Ireland not knowing jackshit about American pop music. She loves those traditional folk jams! I was itching to write another story with Ireland to expand more on her character. I really love how I wrote Ireland here - a drinking, swearing, independent, proud, rebel of a woman who takes no one's shite, unless its for her people. But then again all countries care about their people, I'm sure. If they ever get around to making a canonical Ireland, I really hope she's like mine, and not like some whiney crybaby, which I heard they're planning. I also loved the relationship between Ireland and her then-president Mary McAlesse. Hetalia never really shows the nations with their bosses and I never understood why. But anyway, I wrote this out of insomnia and in between finals studying. Winston Churchill once said that school was greatest stifler of education, and he is absolutely correct. All I want to do is write these Hetalia fanfics, but the schoolwork keeps coming! Oh well, what can you do. This is only chapter one, by the way. I will be writing a second chapter very soon where Ireland confronts England, but I'm not sure if I will before or after I write the follow-up chapter for my other work in-progress "The Price of Hegemony" about Canada trying to help America find his lost, top secret briefcase - an incident that shows just how fall America has deviated from old, carefree, Alfredish self. I also have plans for a story again about Ireland were she travels the world to all the countries where her people have immigrated to and lives in each one for a while. She'll interact with America, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. So many plans, so many distractions, and so little time. Anyway, I need to get some sleep! It's 4:00 am here in D.C. and I need to study when I wake up, so peace! PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW DETAILING WHAT YOU LIKED OR DIDN'T LIKE! I love reviews.

08hurley