Ontario felt empowered.

That in itself sounded odd, as he was amazing and already had almost all the power he could have wanted. But, still, this was much bigger than just provinces and states bickering about small trade issues. He was headed to the world stage, he was about to go toe-to-toe with…

"You're only going because he's sick and you sort of look like him, you know."

Ontario glared down at Quebec as the other province continued to make him presentable. He batted the hands away from his tie, so that he could take care of it himself, but the other province wouldn't be dissuaded.

Hands finally back at his sides, he huffed. "Jealous."

"I got a free trip to Paris for this," Quebec said, voice dull as he selected a tie clip. "I'll be in an art museum while you're getting your self-absorbed ass handed back to you."

"Uh huh. And, while you're spending the day looking at the work of dead humans, I'll be spending mine with France." He grinned as his brother paused. "Bet I get to sit right next to him, too."

Quebec stood frozen, his mouth pulled fiercely taunt and his glare fixated on the metal. Whether his continued frustration stemmed from the adjoining chuckle, or just the idea of all the opportunities he was to miss out on, was hard to tell.

"As honored as you should be for that," Quebec said. His tone was cold as he finally continued to work. "This is important for all of us, so you need to stay focused."

"Since when are you into the 'all of us'," Ontario asked. His attempts to so much as select his own cuff-links were dismissed with a slap to the wrist. "Are you giving up on the whole inde..."

"Nothing like that," He said quickly. "This is just important, and damned if I'll let you walk in there looking like a bum." Quebec continued before the resulting huff could be expanded on. "Dad seems to think that Uncle Al won't be on your side, so you can't afford to get sidetracked." He glanced up. "If he figures out who you are, he's going to try and get rid of you."

"Why would he do that?" Ontario asked. "He loves me."

"I heard he tried the same thing with California. It didn't work out." Quebec sniffed the cologne he'd brought, and his nose wrinkled. "Why does Dad have to buy such God-awful scents…?"

"Did California show up with 6 piercings and green hair?" Ontario rubbed his wrists together after the cologne was sprayed, inciting a look but nothing else from his brother.

"I'm sure, but you know that doesn't mean he'll react any differently." Quebec looked over his work, and brushed a stray bang back into place. "It'll probably just make him more eager to see you gone."

"I've been handling him for a long time," Ontario said. "Even if the people around him are different, I'll be able to do it again." He glanced over. "You aren't worried, are you?"

"I've seen what happens when you rush into things," Quebec said. "So, yes."

Ontario scoffed. He stared into the mirror, softened his expression and rounded his shoulders slightly to complete the deception. When he turned back, his smile was gentler than it'd been for decades. "No matter what you all think of me," he said, in a perfected whisper. "I didn't get my position for nothing."

"You didn't get it for good reasons, either." Quebec put his materials away. "But this is about lying, so you should do quite well."

There was a look passed between them, but any response was silenced by a firm knock on the door. Quebec ducked into the bathroom, and only when he was safely hidden behind the shower curtain did Ontario open the door.

"Ah, good morning America," Ontario said, his voice forcing itself into an uncharacteristic meekness.

"Oh, great, you're up," America greeted, voice all too loud for that hour. "I was worried you were still sleeping."

"No, I'm ready to go," he said. He smiled as gently as he could, pushed down the indigence that someone had challenged his diligence, as he grabbed his briefcase.

America, meanwhile, took the opportunity to look into the room, specifically to the jersey that hung within the partially opened closet. "The Maple Leafs? Seriously?"

Ontario nearly bit his lip until it bled. "I think they have an excellent chance at the Stanley Cup next year, thank you."

America giggled. "So you're betting on getting a trophy you haven't had for 17 years with a team who hasn't won anything for 6 years?"

His eye twitched furiously. He took his time packing the papers to calm himself down. "The roster is very impressive this year…"

"Like the one they had in the sixties?" America asked. A grin spread across his face as he felt the growing tension. "I'd put my money on the Canadians if I had to pick someone from your house, since they got the farthest without failing, but whatever you think your best bet is." He looked down. "If you're not busy being delusional, we should get going."

In his mind, Ontario watched Quebec dying of silent laughter in the bathroom. He'd be sure to make his brother pay later, as well as his uncle if he could swing it. He pushed that for after his pay was earned, though, and turned around with his practiced expression. "Yes, let's go…"

Quebec peeked out after the door had closed, and the sound of his uncle and brother faded down the hall. Convinced that even if things went awry, and Ontario was thrown out on his ass, it had gone for the best and he could enjoy his day to the fullest.