**A few OC's: Jack Kirkland (Australia), Some African countries,(Chinwe as Kenya and Ada as Nigeria), Cambodia (Sathaya) and Knock-out-oxide (Original Chemical :P). Also, Mongolia, in my story at least, will be called Li Ming.**

After another semi-successful world conference (Arthur and Francis still quarreled over a petty nothing, an Alfred had his fair share of idiotic comments), the nations went to lunch at one of Yao's improvised Chinatowns. When the initial hock of discovering one in the basement of the meeting hall had faded, the countries sat down to lunch. A petite, Han-Chinese waitress appeared at their table and Veneciano's eyes lit up at the sight of a pretty girl.

"Ve~," he sniggered. "You're cute! Why don't you take your lunch break now and sit with me…."

Vash smacked him upside the head with the barrel of his ever-present gun as he apologized to the girl, whose violent blush deeply contrasted her blue-black hair.

"Ow! That hurt!" Veneciano exclaimed.

"Sorry for his… him -ness," the Swiss lamented. "He just hasn't gotten that much lately since he's so naïve…"

"Not true, Swissie!" objected the Italian.

Alfred laughed as the girl scurried off. "Yo dude, I can probs tell you why you're not gettin' much. The rest of us have bigger…er…peninsulas than you do, that's all!" The more timid countries blushed while those who weren't as prude heavily agreed.

"Yea man, what shoe size are you anyway?" Gilbert asked Veneciano as he thoroughly tussled his reddish-brown hair. "Like a four*, or something?"

"What, a four? Ha, Dude I'm like a ten!" Alfred boasted.

"Forget you man," Gilbert laughed. "My awesome foot measures a thirteen. Suck on that awesomeness!"

"Bruder, that is a lie. You know that you're an eleven. I wear a fifteen." Ludwig rectified to his brother. Gilbert sunk slightly in his chair.

"Whatever. Lovino, what size are you?"

"Fourteen," the dark-haired Italian deadpanned.

"I'm an eleven!" Peter piped from his high-chair at the far end of the table.

"Yea, in children's sizes," Arthur scoffed. At that, the municipality (no on regarded him as a country, since Sealand was more of a helicopter landing for England) started to cry, complaining that he was being bullied and he wanted to be a nation.

"Oh, shut up, you little twit. Don't get you're diaper two kilometers up your arse!" the Briton retorted. This just made Peter cry harder, but when Ivan introduced his lead pipe, the kid zipped his lips and tried his hardest to hold back tears.

Yao Wang claimed his shoe size was a nineteen, but since he was an Asian country, no one believed him. Damn those stupid stereotypes, the Chinese man brooded.

Ivan decided to end this once and for all, so he admitted his shoe size was a twenty-one.

"And it's not just me," he added. "All my men are 'endowed'. Our women can't be compared to Ukraine, but my men are nothing to mess with." The nations who didn't partake in the conversation felt totally one-upped, but the more promiscuous nations (namely Alfred and Gilbert) practically bowed too Ivan.

"Dude, twenty-one? You're like a god, or something!" Alfred praised the lead-wielding Russian as if he were Christ himself. "Haha, GET SOME, man!"

Prussia fist-bumped Ivan as he said "Whoa, that's awesome! And coming from me, reigning overlord of awesome, that's saying something."

Yao, on the other hand, was steaming that he had no respect from the other nations.

"Ai ya! Forget this!" He jumped up from his chair, yelling, "I'm a size nineteen and you guys all know it!"

The table fell silent as the angry Chinaman slumped in his chair, arms folded and tucked into his oversized sleeves.

"Ayeee, chill out, mate. Its no big deal," Jack Kirkland said as he tried to console the angry Yao Wang. "Its all about personal preference, y'know. I mean, I don't have the biggest beef at the barbie**, but—"

"It's not just that, you dumbass!" Yao interjected, again slamming the table. "Ivan is always acting like hes some big macho-man, when he started off just a dirty Oliver Twist. He thinks he's some kinda big deal!"

"Well it doesn't matter anyways because eventually we will al become one under Mother Russia." Ivan said quietly with a smile that could make anyone uneasy.

"Shut up with your damned 'we'll all become one' shit. I'm the one who'll do the imperialism around here!"

"Can I have some pasta?" Veneciano asked. Everyone's heads whipped towards him. The countries wondered:

a) when the new waiter (a man this time, but some of the dining nations still would not be deterred by that) showed up at the table

b) how long he'd been there and how much he heard

c) and how Veneciano could still be thinking about pasta when a battle amongst nations occurred.

But they were hungry, so the rest of the table placed their orders.

A few chairs away from where Yao's little scene happened, Kiku Honda and Heracles Karpusi were discussing the idealism of Greek Mythology.

"So you are telling me that your deities – your gods – are very human-like?" Kiku pondered.

"Yes, we Greeks like our heroes and gods to have weaknesses, just like we do." Explained Heracles

"That is very unusual to me. Typically, I would imagine that an immortal being would not have a drawback, and would therefore be inhuman." The Japanese man was still trying to make sense of Grecian theology.

"Not that they aren't inhuman – gods are nothing like humans except that they have similar pitfalls as we do; lust, greed, lack of wisdom (but only for some of the gods) and things like that."

The two continued to talk about Greek culture when their food arrived.

Kiku was a shy, timid and reserved nation, and therefore for a long time was closed of to other countries. After this period of isolation, Japan resolved to explore the world and its cultures. He started with America, but Alfred was too overbearing, and Arthur, well, Kiku just didn't want to start with them. So he found a country that was quiet and reserved like him, but still interesting and rich in culture. And Greece fit the description perfectly. His shoulder-length brown hair was a perfect perch for Heracles' snow-white cat Tama, who would sometimes get lost in it. He almost always wore a loose, green t-shirt and spent a lot of time at ruins or in green, lush hillsides. He also wore yellow cat ears that were given to him by Kiku. He got him this present because it was very visible that Heracles LOVED cats.

They had such good conversations together, like they were having at this lunch.

By the time desert came, conversation had strayed from Greek mythology to Japanese martial arts.

"And that's how kendo and judo are different." Kiku concluded, finishing his egg roll and lo-mein. Heracles laughed when a noodle slapped Kiku's forehead as he slurped it up.

And the Japanese man giggled a little bit too.

A/N: *When the nations are referring to shoe sizes, they are using the American way of measuring*

**barbie: Australian colloquialism for barbeque.**