Hi! I'm Amy. I adopted this story from Optimistically-Hopeless, who kindly let me adopt it. For those of you who have waited for me to put it up, I'm sorry. Truth is, I didn't have all the documents down. I had about half of all the chapters down, when the story got deleted. I asked Optimistically-Hopeless for them, who e-mailed me. So now, I can finally get this crap going! I'm going to keep the first six chapters the same, because I don't want to change them. And for newcomers, enjoy~

This meeting today didn't seem to be much different from any other meeting before it. As always, the World Conference had been absolute chaos without much of anything being resolved by the countries. America had spouted out his ridiculous ideas while stuffing hamburgers down his throat. His great ideas of today were how nothing tasted better than deep-fried Twinkies, and how more global warming would be totally awesome so there could be more beaches and opportunities to eat ice cream and not feel guilty about it. England had come back at all of his ideas with how much of a stupid git he was and how he really needed to go on a diet. This was then followed by a barrage of snide remarks about the Brit's cooking, resulting him to cuss everyone out like a true British "gentleman." France joined in with everyone as they insulted him and his gentlemanly ways, which ended up with him getting a sharp punch in the ribs. China began complaining about the immaturity of Western cultures, his hand on his wok because of the fair haired country next to him. Russia just sat there contently, a smile on his face—which was never a good sign. A smiling Russia was a plotting Russia. Japan sat in his seat as he pulled out ear buds to drown out the shouting—he had been doing this for a while now, seeing as they never actually got anything done in these meetings. A happy Italy was laughing at all of the commotion, amused by how everyone hated each other. His smile quickly faded though when he looked at the German beside him.

"Ve?" he said, tilting his head. "Germany, are you okay? You look like you're about to jump up and kill everyone!" The German did always look angry, but rarely did he look murderous. He usually just saved those kinds of looks for Italy and his mass amounts of clumsiness and naivety.

Germany remained silent, his face only growing redder with anger. "Don't tempt me," he growled, glaring at the whole room.

"I'll help!" Russia suddenly chimed in, quickly pulling out his pipe. "If we kill them, can I get America? I've always wondered what he'd look like soaked in his own blood…" A string of "kol kol"s emanated from him, sending the room temperature down a few degrees.

"Nein!" Germany said, giving Russia a glare—not that it scared the Russian one bit. "Killing doesn't solve anything. Believe me, I know."

Russia just laughed his sweet little child-like laugh. "It may not help, but it sure is a lot of fun!" The room went down a few more degrees as Russia's smile grew. "I love it when the blood splatters. Such a pretty color. Oh, and the patterns they make. So beautiful…"

"Ve, Germany!" Italy said, scooting closer to the blonde country, visibly shaking. "Germany, he's really freaking me out! Make him stop!" Germany didn't though, seeing as—after all—it was Russia. He was like a bad head-ache; if you leave him alone long enough, he'll go away… for a while at least.

There was a loud crash as the fight between France and England continued to escalate. "Damn frog!" he cried, running after the retreating Frenchman. Wanting to beat the worthless life out of France for his arrogance and Frenchiness, England grabbed the closest thing to him as he pulled down a hockey stick from the wall. "I'm going to kill you this time!" he yelled, lifting the hockey stick above his head. He had a malicious gleam in his eyes and was about to bury the weapon in his stupid face when—

"STOP!"

Abruptly, the room went silent besides Russia leaking out a few last "kol"s. Everyone looked up to, for the first time that day, see Canada, the one who's house they were at for the meeting. They all paused in embarrassment as they realized they had once again forgotten his existence. How were they always able to do that?

Canada stood there vehemently, pointing a finger threateningly at England, making the island nation nervous. Never before had anyone seen timid little Canada so enraged. Even when he was constantly ignored, he was calm or resigned about it. Never before had anyone seen him angry. No one had any idea as to why he would be so outraged.

"Put," the Canadian growled fiercely. "The hockey stick. Down. Now."

For a few moments England didn't move, still shocked by the sudden existence of an angry Canada. Then, not wanting to upset him any further, he slowly put the hockey stick back in its place. "Sorry," he murmured, carefully backing away from the wall.

Seeming to calm down a bit now that his precious hockey stick was out of harm's way, Canada sat back in his seat. (The rest of the group had been wondering why an empty chair was there; well, now they knew.) "Alright," he said tiredly. "I say we call it a day. I'm tired of people not noticing my existence."

"Whoo!" America cried, obviously either not noticing or caring about his brother's depression. "I get to go home! Go USA!"

"Good thing, my head is killing me. I need a nice cup of tea."

"Pasta!"

"Now I can come up with more ideas of what to do with Lithuania! The old techniques are getting rather old. Kol kol…"

"Aiyaa, I need to feed my panda, aru!"

Quickly, everyone rushed out of the room, once again forgetting that Canada even existed. He sat and watched as they left, dropping his eyes to the table. Why wouldn't any of them pay him attention? He had done a lot of things! He had invented the zipper! Zippers were really important, weren't they? Everyone used them! And he provided them with Canadian bacon and hockey! Surely the world would be much darker without his bacon!

He roughly crashed his forehead into the table, letting out a little moan of frustration. Oh, who was he kidding? He was a nobody, a complete hoser. His own brother didn't even notice him or even bother to remember his name. For God's sake, America could remember Kazi… Kazix… Kazikisht… Kazakhstan? How the hell could he not remember—?!

"Canada?"

Holy crap, someone remembered his name. He jumped as he looked up, hoping he wasn't hallucinating. Standing beside him was France, his usual charming smile on his face. Canada felt his face become slightly warmer, not used to people actually coming up to talk to him. "Y-yeah?" Canada answered, uncertain. It had been a long time since France talked to him. Okay, it had been a long time since anyone had talked to him; but still!

"I'm sorry for making England angry enough that he tried to damage your hockey stick," France said, swaying his hair slightly. "I didn't think he'd react like that to me trying to take his clothes off. He usually just yells."

A little disturbed—yet not completely surprised—that France had precedents to this, Canada just laughed it off. "Eh, it's okay. Just… just don't let it happen again, okay? Please?"

"Well, I can't promise that!" France said with a laugh, making Canada a little apprehensive. France must have seen this as he quickly added, "But I'll make sure he doesn't damage anything of yours."

Canada gave a little nod of appreciation, not quite sure of he liked the attention. He was so used to not getting any, so having someone actually come up and apologize to him like this was fairly rare. Feeling awkward, Canada stood up as he gathered up his things. "Well," he said, trying to keep himself occupied with something, "you should get going, right? You need to get home."

France looked at him, almost with a hurt expression. "Well, I was thinking, and—"

However, Canada never found out what he was thinking as America burst back into the room. "Yo, Canadia!" he called, making his brother cringe. "We can't get out!"

Once he had gotten over the pain of once again not being correctly recognized, Canada tilted his head curiously. They couldn't get out? Canada put down his things as he stared at the American. "What?" he said, confused. Why wouldn't they be able to get out? He wouldn't be surprised if America was just messing with him—the stupid jerk really liked to do that.

"Dude, the door won't open and the windows are all white! We can't see a single thing outside!"

Oh maple hockey. Canada ran past the American and out the door, through the hall and to the foyer that lead to the front door. All of the other countries were gathered here, looking like they were also trying to figure out how to get out. Russia had pulled out his pipe and looked like he was going to bust out one of the windows if he didn't get an answer soon. Canada went to the door and tried to push it open so he could get all of these people out of his house. However, it didn't budge even a centimeter. Canada was by no means weak, being nearly as strong as America. So if he wasn't able to make the door open, no one else would be able to either.

"Oh no," Canada said, pushing the door once again to no avail. Seeing as it wasn't going to move any time soon, Canada backed away from the door, his stomach tying in knots. This wasn't good. Not good at all. "Well," he said, scratching his head nervously, "it looks like we're snowed in."

The room went surprisingly quiet as Canada announced this, all of the countries' faces going from annoyed to distraught. "Snowed it?" America repeated, his shoulders slumping. "But I wanna go home! My home is so much more awesome!"

England glared at America, looking disgusted. "Don't tell me I'm going to be stuck in the same house as this idiot."

"Who are you calling an idiot?"

"Thank you for proving my point."

"HEY!" The two of them then proceeded to go at each other for each other's throats.

"We're stuck!" Italy screamed, actually opening his auburn eyes—which never a good sign. "AAH, we're stuck! Ve, Germany, Germany! I don't want to stay here forever! It's so cold and scary and different and it doesn't have pasta and I don't want to stay here forever! Germany! Germany!"

Italy received a quick smack to the head, sending his eyes shut again. "Shut up, dummkopf!" Italy began to cry, which made Germany pat him on the head. "Calm down," he said, trying to sound reassuring in his harsh German tone. "We'll get out eventually. Now calm yourself."

A few sniffles escaped the small country, but he put a smile on his face as he nodded. "O-okay. I trust you."

The tough country blushed very slightly as he ruffled the Italian's hair. "Sehr gut."

In his own little corner, Japan fiddled with his newest piece of technology, trying to figure out a way that he could escape. "I'm not sure I can handre this," he mumbled to himself, scrolling down his screen. "Everyone's so roud."

"My panda needs food, aru!" China cried, waving his arms frantically, he long sleeves flapping loudly in the air. "Aiyaa, this is why I hate Western cultures, aru! This is so stupid, aru!"

The only one who didn't seem upset about this was Russia. "Since we are all here," he said matter-of-factly, the smile on his face growing, "now would be a good time for you all to become one with Mother Russia, da?"

Everyone stopped their arguments to take a minute to glare at the Russian and his all-too content smile. "Hell no!" they all yelled simultaneously, quickly reengaging in their previous fights.

"Everyone, calm down!" Canada said, but his frail voice couldn't be heard over all the yelling. He tried to get their attention again, but his voice was once again drowned out. He gave a sigh of defeat and was about to give up when…

"'Ey! Canada is trying to speak!" Canada jumped, shocked that someone was standing up for him. He recognized the accent, but still turned in disbelief to see France behind him, an annoyed look on his face. Hearing that people had finally silenced themselves, Canada turned back around to face them, feeling himself get extremely nervous. He didn't like being the center of the attention

"Uh," Canada said nervously, clutching his hands together to try to restrain himself from fidgeting. "Well, we're snowed in. But… uhm… well, people will come and plow us out! Well, a-as soon as they can plow themselves out… Eh, and I do live on the outskirts of town, so… so they'll take a little bit longer getting to us… but… eh… we'll…" By now, Canada's voice had decreased to a whisper, now for himself realizing that they would probably be stuck in his house for a few days.

He nearly fainted from the thought. A few days? How was he ever going to survive? Most of these people didn't know who he was or simply didn't care. Now he was going to be forced to stay with all of them?

"How long are we gonna be here?" America complained, not even trying to hide the disappointment in his voice. "Your place is totally lame."

Canada did his best to manage a glare at his brother, though it only turned into a nervous frown. "Um… well… I don't know… A few days maybe?"

A barrage of shouts and complaints hit Canada all at once, almost knocking him over from their force. Why was everyone blaming him? Did they think he wanted to be stuck in a house full of people who didn't like him? His shoulders slumped as he gripped his hands together tightly. He hated this.

"Guys, listen!" Canada called, but was once again drowned out by everyone's voices. God, he hated these people! They couldn't listen to anyone but themselves! They were so stupid, so inconsiderate, so rude! He felt his shoulders quivering with anger and wanted to start yelling. But if he yelled, he'd be the center of attention again. And he really didn't want that.

"Everyone, shut up!" France called again, sending another blush to Canada's face. Wow, France was being really nice today. However, his nerves returned as everyone returned their attention to him, all of their faces irritated. He took a deep breath as he tried to figure out how to get everyone settled.

"Okay," Canada said, clasping his hands together tighter. "There are nine of us. I have my bed and three spare beds. Um… I think that two people can fit to a bed, so…"

Japan suddenly began to listen. "I have to sreep with someone?!" he cried, looking horrified. "B-but, my personar space!"

Canada scratched his head awkwardly. "W-well, that's how it's going to have to work. Either that or five people are going to go without a bed." People began to argue, but Canada shushed them tiredly. "It's the best option, sorry. So… so everyone pick a sleeping partner." More arguments, but Canada just huffed. They just had to accept things as they were. It wasn't like he could do anything about it.

"I pick Germany!" Italy cried, hugging Germany around the middle. Obviously uncomfortable with the contact, Germany tried to push him away, but gave up as Italy only hugged him tighter. "Fine," was Germany's response, a small blush crossing his face. It wasn't like they didn't sleep together anyways—Italy always snuck into his bed in the middle of the night. Germany was just used to it by now.

Russia eyed China ominously, making the Asian country extremely nervous. Desperately looking around, his eyes landed on Japan. Their relationship had not been a great one, but he'd take Japan over Russia any day. "Aiyaa!" he screamed, running over to his younger brother. "Japan, aru! Please bed with me, aru!"

Japan looked at him bewildered, blood rushing up to his face. "N-no!" he said, shaking his head violently, his black hair flying from side to side. "That is compretery out of the question!"

China whimpered, grabbing on to Japan's sleeve. "Please, aru!" he begged, shaking in fear. "Please don't make me sleep with Russia, aru! I'm begging you, aru!"

Still not a huge fan of the idea, Japan gave a little sigh. It was probably going to cause some problems of its own, but he didn't blame his ancient brother for wanting to keep a safe distance from mysterious Russia. "Okay," he murmured, staring at the wall. "We can sreep together."

"Thank you, aru!" China said, proceeding to hug the smaller nation. This ended though as Japan shoved him off with a huge blush and quickly retreated from the room. He thought that at least China would know how much he hated it when others touched him. Apparently not.

England looked around, trying to decide who to share a bed with. So far, he really was not in favor of his options. The moment he laid eyes on Russia, he quickly moved on—no way was he going to sleep with the psycho commie. He'd probably break his head open with his pipe when no one was looking… or when everyone was looking. He never knew what to expect from him. Next was France, to whom he sent an evil glare. Like hell he was going to sleep with him. Doing so would just be asking to be raped! Then he put his sights on America. He seemed to be looking around too, his face looking worried. England couldn't stand to be around America half the time, but, out of the options he had, America was by far the better one. So, with a huff, he punched America's arm, making the other jump. "What the hell, man?" he asked, looking annoyed.

"Sleep with me," England said matter-of-factly. However, as the words slipped out, he realized that they could be taken as something else. Something quite disgusting. He blushed slightly as he cleared his throat. "Er, I mean… share a bed with me, you bloody git."

America looked a little concerned with England's first phrasing, but he just shrugged it off. "Huh. Um, sure." He then smirked deviously. "I know I'm so incredibly sexy, so please don't try anything, 'kay Erotic Ambassador?"

England guffawed at this, blood rushing to his face. A few choked sounds escaped his throat until he was finally able to form actual words. "You damn git! I would never even think of trying anything! God, you're an idiot!"

"Name's America, not God," America quipped with a wink. "I get how you're confused though; we are pretty similar."

This only earned him another smack on his arm. "Idiot!"

Canada looked around the room, watching as everyone chose their bed mates. Even though everyone was fighting, he at least knew that they were figuring everything out. Hopefully after a while when everything was settled, it might be relatively calm. It was nice hope… but probably a hope that wasn't going to happen. He was about to try to call their attention again so he could show them the rooms when someone tapped his shoulder.

A little surprised, Canada turned to see who needed him. And blushed upon seeing France. Blood rushed up to his face for reasons still unknown to him. He stared at France for a moment, a little surprised by how he was looking at him; a look of fondness. A kind of fondness he hadn't given him since he was still just a small child, from before he was forced to become one of England's colonies.

It took a moment for him to realize that he had said absolutely nothing as he stared at France, which sent more of a blush to his cheeks. "U-uh… yeah?" he said clumsily. He was beginning to remember why he didn't like talking to people—he always felt so awkward around them.

"Well, I had a question," France said, sweeping his golden hair over his shoulder. "You see, I don't have a sleeping partner. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, could I sleep with you?"

The thought almost made Canada's brain explode. France? Sleeping in the same bed as him? It wasn't that the idea disgusted him or anything; he wouldn't mind getting to spend some time with France—it had been a long time since they had been able to be together last. But sleeping in the same bed… the thought had never occurred to him. It was so different, so foreign, so…

"Sure," Canada answered without thinking. He nearly started screaming as he realized that he had just agreed, and was about to correct himself. That is, until he saw the happiness on France's face.

"Ah, merci, mon ami!" he said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Do not worry, I won't try to do anything to you." Then with a devious smirk, he added, "Well, of course, unless you want me to. Ohonhon!"

Canada froze up, his face on fire. This was normal for France, being a creepy pervert—this was normal. It wasn't anything he had to be worried about. He shouldn't have been freaking out or anything—this was nothing special. It was France being France. Nothing else!

"Okay," he said blankly, feeling his legs lightly shaking beneath him. France was touching him. Why this simple little contact was making his knees go weak, he had no idea. Maybe it was just because he never got physical contact? Maybe it was because he wasn't used to people paying him attention to him whatsoever.

Maybe it was because he loved France.

With a startled jump and a cry of "MAPLE!" Canada smacked himself in the head, getting a slightly distressed look from France. What was he thinking, liking France? France probably had 25 lovers or something! He flirted with anything that had a heartbeat! Hell, he flirted with anything that had an orifice! Like he would even ever a chance with France!

He hit himself again, trying to get the thoughts out of his head. No, he didn't want a chance with France! He was fine just as he was now: being constantly ignored, no one paying attention to or caring about his existence, people always confusing him for America—I mean, who wouldn't want that life?

With a sigh, he quickly apologized to France for his odd behavior, and then called for everyone's attention. Quickly, he guided everyone to the guest rooms and let them pick a room. Another scuffle ensued as people tried to pick rooms, but after a while, everyone had entered their chosen rooms and the hall was near empty, Canada, France and Russia the only ones remaining. Canada, for a moment, felt sorry for Russia being left out. But as he thought about it, he didn't blame the other countries—Russia was pretty intimidating.

"Um, Russia," Canada said timidly, clutching his hands together. "I do have a couch if you want to sleep there. I'm not sure what I can do about a room, but…"

"No, it's fine!" Russia said happily, a serene smile on his face. "I'll manage!" Canada smiled back at him, happy that Russia wasn't angry at him for not having another room for him. He was about to thank him when Russia added, "Besides, I like hiding in halls and in the shadows! It's fun to scare people and then hit them in the face with my pipe! Oh, the surprise on their faces is always so funny!"

Canada made a silent note to himself to carry a flashlight with him from now on.

A loud bang came from one of the rooms, followed by a cry of, "Bloody git!" More hits and bangs were heard, followed by "Watch it, limey!" The two kept yelling until a loud German voice was heard yelling, "Shut up, or I will shoot both of you dummkofps!" The two kept fighting none the less, and a cry of "Aiyaa!" was heard from China in another room.

Canada head drooped as he give sad little hopeless chuckles. It was going to be a long couple of days…

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