A/N; This is my first fanfic, so no harsh words - but i'll greatly appreciate pointers. Sorry for the short and suck-ish prologue but I'm putting up the first chapter really soon. Maybe tomorrow... Translations at the bottom.

Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia I would be insanely happy.


Prologue

"And that concludes todays' conference. Meeting adjourned."

All the nations shot up from their red velvet-lined chairs in a desperate attempt to stretch their sore limbs. Sitting for two hours happened to take alot out of a person, or in this case - nation. Unexpectedly, today's world conference happened to be prolonged much to everyone's surprise, but nothing more than a few complaints from America came up.

And thus, the meeting played out as was expected; political news, economic rates and international relations were all discussed along with some usual bickering from a pair of Italian twins and 'the potato bastards'. Soon enough, everyone went their separate ways.

"Hey. Hey! HEY IGGY!"

England jumped from his seat and spun around to be greeted by a certain frowning American. A few looks about suggested that he hadn't been paying attention. He didn't even realize that everyone was either standing or about to leave. It wasn't like him to be so inattentive.

"Hey, Iggy. You 'k man? You been out of it lately. Come on, lets go - meeting's been done for a while."

England inwardly cursed at his so-called son's use of English. He couldn't believe this was the results of his 'parenting'.

"You bloody git! Use English correctly! It's 'the meeting's been done' not ' meeting's been done'!"

"There's the Iggy I know" the American exclaimed with a bubbly smile spread across his face.

Arthur couldn't help but smile at the boy's comment. He knew Alfred was good for something. This was probably one of those things.

"Alright then, lets go."

The two got up and started to head out.

"Anyway Iggy, why did you go over to that commie's house?"

"Alfred - I've told you already, it was strictly business. Our bosses have been getting along quite well lately. Nothing more." England huffed. Was his previous colony ever going to stop? But he was right. Good political relations was no excuse for Russias' creepy demeanor.

MWH

"Maman! On a des fraises?" Julie said wrist-deep in the fruit that usually sat ideally on their square mahogany dinning table.

"Non. Si tu veux, je peux sortir et acheter."

She stopped rummaging throught the fruit and skipped over to the kitchen where her mother was preparing lunch.

"Maman, may I have some St. Agur or non?" the girl said - greedily eyeing the fridge knowing well that the cheese drawer in it was stocked fully with exotic cheesses from France. Pulling her eyes away from the fridge and temping thoughts, she realized that the aged woman had put on her coat. But before she could ask any questions, her mother continued.

"Oh, attends. Tu peux surveiller la ratatouille pendants je sorts."

"Ok, how long will you be gone?"

"About une heure, je vais faire les courses. Donne-moi un bisou."

After a peck on the cheek, her mother left - leaving her to herself. Not that she didn't like being alone, it was just that she was more of a people person. Something started to tug at her indigo jeggings. She jumped in surprise but pouted when she realized it was only her cat. It started to meowl and bat its paws in the air.

"Ok, ok. Jeez~. God Minou, shouldn't you have exploded already from all the food we give you?"

That cat gave her a look of distress. Probably from hunger, she thought. Julie wandered over to the little cupboard that sat between the fridge and the sink. Popping it open, she groped the contents until she pulled out a pearly white pastic scoop. Under a 'Glad Bag' garbage bag box sat a container about the same color. Carefully taking off the 'Glag Bag' box and then the cap to the container, she plunged the scoop into a pile of cat kibble. She measured the amount of food cautiously afraid that she would one day have to clean up the remains of certain cat that had imploded due to a too-good serving. Finally dumping the cat food into a metallic bowl and throwing everything back into place, the cheerful child skipped over to a leathery couch and jumped onto it - leaving the cat to it's meal.

"That cat is too fat, really!"

With a beige blanket draped across her legs, Julie took out her phone and began to type up some notes for a sketch. Then she pulled her sketch pad out from it's thin black sac and began to draw on a fresh page.

When she was just about done when the door bell rang. It couldn't have been her mother for an hour wasn't up but she was curious enough to go check who it was. She took the sketch pad and the phone with her to the door. Julie checked the ratatouille - just in case, and made her way to the door.

"Hello?"

No one answered her. She opened the door frustrated.

"Hello?"

But the only thing that greeted her was a blinding light.


Translations;

French-

[Maman! On a des fraises] Mom! Do we have strawberries?

[Non. Si tu veux, je peux sortir et acheter.] No. If you want, I can go out and buy some.

[St. Agur] A type of Rocquefort of the Pyrenees. Rocquefort is a cheese and the Pyrenees are french moutains that lie between Spain and France.

[Oh, attends. Tu peux surveiller la ratatouille pendants je sorts.] Oh, wait. Can you look after the ratatouille while I'm out?

[Ratatouille] An old french peasents dish made of various vegtables stewed together.

[About une heure, je vais faire les courses. Donne-moi un bisou.] About one hour, I'm going to do the food shopping. Give me a kiss.