AN- After reading several excellent examples of such a story (will not say more lest I ruin something), I decided to try my hand at one. Also the location of the G8 meeting was decided by flipping to a random page of the NA section in an atlas and pointing, hopefully isn't too odd. The NA siblings location was also determined by closing my eyes and randomly pointing somewhere on a map of Canada (that and I was listening to the Arrogant Worms)

Hopefully this is not a complete fail and is believable, hope you like~

I Own Nothing (not Hetalia or the Arrogant Worms) except the plot

6 out of 8 G8 nations (though there were 7 in the car) were presently making their way North after convening for an important meeting Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

Now you might be thinking, if they were meeting for a G8 summit in Pittsburgh, then why are they travelling? Shouldn't they be settling in for a nice long nap in a conference room waiting for the opening speeches followed by the dreary talks and kissing up to each other? (Figuratively of course)

Well, they would be, if it weren't for the fact that TWO of them were missing and, being the G8, missing two of their members is the same as one forth of their attendance.

Which was obviously a problem, ergo the travelling - A few quick phone calls by an irate German to the missing's bosses pinpointed the New World siblings location up at Canada's house in Northern Ontario. So, having little say in the matter when faced with an irritated Germany (or not caring enough to resist), the 7 of them piled into a van and began making the drive up.

To make matters worse, it was February the 14th today, Valentine's Day.

The bane of England's existence.

As it was one of the days of the year (the other being Christmas or his birthday) that the BLOODY FROG gets ten times WORSE at understanding the concept of keeping ones hands to oneself. Though he already gets especially worse at understanding this any time when in a small enclosed space, such as a moving vehicle and/or where one of his victims can't really fight back, such as the driver of said moving vehicle. So right now, England wanted nothing more then to go Waterloo on the bugger's ass because he was not only harassing him, but was going to get them all killed (which was a mess of paperwork for them all) by bothering the driver as well.

Rule #1 in driving- You never harass the driver while in transit unless you want to test you luck at surviving a head on collision with a lamppost at 90km/h.

Though it was a stroke of luck that the driver was easily able to ignore his advances and/or fend them off while not taking his eyes off the road- England wondered where he had developed such a skill. He himself had yet to reach even remotely such a high level of the art of repelling the Frenchman's romantic advances (though his military advancements were another story).

Must be because of his time in the Bad Touch Trio, Arthur decided. Prussia was the one driving, as he was the only one with a valid international licence on him at the building, and he was doing a surprisingly good job. No close calls or anything. In the rest of the car, in the back seat there were all former Axis members squished in. North Italy had fallen asleep on Germany's shoulder, who had in turn fallen asleep on the other after the 4th hour of non-stop driving. Japan was on the other side was discreetly attempting to take pictures and (from what Arthur could tell) was sending them to Hungary. Russia was the lucky bastard in the middle of the van with leg room AND who had the empty seat between him, though France sat on the other side within easy groping distance of North Italy, England in shotgun and Prussia. England could only thank his lucky stars that at least Romano had been abducted by an overenthusiastic Spaniard for the day or else the car would be filled with screams directed at France and Germany.

Though instead he took it upon himself to fill that void as Francis groped him for what felt to be the upteenth time that day. "FUCK OFF FROG!"

At last they arrived at the house, a cozy little place in the middle of NOWHERE. (aka Northern Ontario which is 18 billion kilometers long, with 23 people living there all of whom are named Frank, even the Girl.)

Honestly. Mused Francis. How does mon petit fils expect more visitors when they have to come all this way? And it was so cold too and very plain. Just rocks and trees, and trees and rocks, and rock and trees and water. Why not the city?

Ludwig knocked on the door and they all waited uncomfortably outside, with the exception of Russia who was claiming it felt like spring, despite it being -20 outside.

Silence, with the exception of the wind blowing by.

Germany again knocked, this time a bit harder but barely moments after, Feliciano, shivering, just tested the door and found it open, letting them in.

~Inside~

"I think I hear someone knocking"

"I GOT IT" shouted a voice from the second floor

"Mais non, mon vieux! Chu' plus proche" Came a voice from the living room.

"Wonder who it is, no one comes up your way often Mattie. Hahaha!" Said a louder voice.

"Low blow, Al, low blow."

Just before any of the voices could reach the door, it burst open and 7 figures fell in.

Silence, then:

"Ve! Why are there four America's?"

"Aw shit" Whispered one of the four look alikes standing in the foyer while the others looked a combination of disbelief, denial and the look kids get when their hands were caught in the cookie jar. Oh shit indeed.

Translations

Mais non, mon vieux! Chu' plus proche (Qué fr- No old boy (familial/friendly). I'm closer)

Please Review and Let me Know if this is worth continuing