A/N: Hello, everyone! This is my first Hetalia fanfic and my first attempt at a romance fic. The pairing, you ask? USUK! Although there will be a liiiittle bit of Franada later on. I hope it's not too much of a fail. ;)

Rated T for swearing. Cover your ears, kiddies!

5:12 P.M.

Nations began exiting the room as the world conference, being held in New York City, which had run late due to the amount of arguing, goofing-off, and interruptions from Prussia (who didn't seem at all bothered by the fact that he was no longer a country and didn't really have a reason to be there), came to a close. A few nations lingered behind, chatting or trying to make side deals, much to Germany's chagrin. No one, however, noticed the island nation in the corner, furiously making calls, his unusually large eyebrows furrowed in frustration. No one until…

"HEY, IGGY! Dude, what's going on?" Alfred "America" F. Jones approached Britain, a toothy grin plastered on his face, but the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland was is no mood for his former colony's cheerfulness.

"Not now, you git! Can't you see that I'm busy!" England sighed, finally feeling defeated, and placed his cell phone back in his pocket. America ignored the irritation in his voice and persisted.

"Doing what?"

"Well, if you really must know," Britain began, his voice edged with sarcasm, "My flight home was canceled because there was some potential 'terrorism threat' reported, and officials, if you can call them that, are worried. So, because you can't put suicide bombers and homicidal nutters in their place, I'm stranded here with no place to stay!"

"Hey, I'm just concerned for my citizen's safety! I don't want a repeat of 9/11!" America retorted.

"Well I can understand that, but are the full-body scans really necessary?"

America smiled sheepishly, "Okay, I admit it, those are a little excessive, but it wasn't my idea! So, anyway, you don't have a place to stay?" America could see the dilemma. It was far too late to get a reservation for one of the city's nice, or even semi-decent, hotels, and the dignified Brit most likely wouldn't particularly enjoy staying in a cheap motel where some 50 year-old guy was probably getting busy with a prostitute in the next room over. "Want to stay at my place?"

Britain felt a little heat rise to his cheeks at hearing this offer. "Uh, y-yes. That would be nice. Thank you, America." He didn't exactly have many options.

America laughed, "OKAY! Let's go! Mattie's waiting with the car."

"Who?"

"My brother…you know, Canada?"

"Ah, yes, I remember now."

Neither the European nor the North American country noticed the smiling Frenchman watching them as they walked through the door.

Well done, Francis, he thought gleefully to himself, Now I just need to get to L'Amerique's house!

5:36 P.M.

After a little while of wandering around the parking garage searching for the car that America and Canada shared, only for America to get a text from Canada saying that he was waiting down by the street ("How the bloody hell did you not notice him!"), America and Britain finally got in the black Subaru Forester (which America didn't like very much, mostly because Canada had picked it out).

Canada turned his head, a little surprised to see Britain get in the car.

"Hi, England," he said quietly. Then again, Canada usually said everything quietly.

"Hello, Canada," Britain replied, buckling his seat belt.

"Iggy's staying at our house tonight 'cause his flight got canceled," America said, "Tony's going to be so pumped!"

Britain sighed. He had forgotten about America's alien friend.

6:01 P.M.

After an exhausting drive through the congested New York traffic, the three countries arrived at the house of the two North American nations. Upon walking through the front door and into the living room, they were greeted by the sight of Tony the alien sitting on the couch, playing a strange survival-horror video game that America had borrowed from Japan.

"C'mon, Iggy, I'll show you where your room is, you can put you jacket and crap there!" America began climbing the staircase opposite the front door. England nervously followed, making sure to walk widely around the couch where Tony sat. As he passed the couch he heard "Fucking limey!" from the gray alien.

"Um, I guess I'll get dinner started," Canada announced as they disappeared at the top of the stairs.

"Okay!" America called back down.

Canada sighed. Why didn't anyone ever notice him? Even his own brother would hardly acknowledge him when he talked. He walked off in the direction of the kitchen. He tried to think of what he could make for dinner. Burgers, although they were America's favorite food, would take too long to make and would probably disgust Britain anyway. America had recently taken a liking in Japanese food, but they probably didn't the ingredients for that, although he thought he remembered seeing some rice somewhere in one of the cabinets.

As he dug through the cabinets, moving various things out of the way, he heard a soft electronic chime. Canada jumped, slightly startled, and reached into his pocket for his cell phone. It was a simple, gray flip phone (America constantly laughed at it, amused at the fact that Canada didn't have a smart phone). Canada was surprised to find that he had received a text. No one texted him but Alfred, and he was right upstairs. Canada flipped open the phone. The name on the screen read "Francis Bonnefoy".

France? Why would France text him?

Bonjour, Matthieu ! How are L'Amerique and Angleterre ?

L'Amerique and Angleterre ? America and England ? How could France possibly know about that ? Canada, a little creeped out, quickly texted back.

They're fine. How do you know that England is here ?

Canada set the phone down on the counter top, nervously awaiting Frances reply as he continued to sort through ingredients and glancing at the phone every few seconds. A minute or two later the electrnic chime went off again. He quickly picked up the phone.

I heard them chatting at the conference. Would you mind opening the back door ?

The back door ? Canada exited the kitchen and headed out towards the hall where the back door was. He nervously turned the doorknob and pulled it open. There didn't appear to be anyone or anything outside though. It was mid-November so it was already dark out. He scanned the ground, wondering if he had missed something.

"Matthieu!"

Canada yelped, jumping about a foot into the air.

"Shush! I do not want L'Amerique and Angleterre to know that I am here!" France suddenly jumped out from behind a bush and walked up the steps to the porch where Canada stood.

"Fr-France! What are y-you d-doing here?" Canada whispered in a manner that France couldn't help but notice sounded awfully nervous.

"Well, you see, I have a plan to-"

France stopped mid-sentence. Canada heard voices behind them. It sounded as if America and Britain were descending that stairs.

"-really shouldn't allow Prussia to be at the meetings. He's not even an actual country anymore and anything he says everyone else just dismisses. All he does is interrupt people, make rude comments, and cause arguments."

"Yeah, Germany probably just puts up with it 'cause he's his brother, but you know-"

Canada turned to tell France to hide, only to realize that the Frenchman had already dived into a bush.

"Hey, Canada, what'cha doin' on the porch?"

Canada jumped in surprise. "Oh, uh, nothing. I was, uh, just l-looking for Orion. Heh, see, there it is!" He laughed nervously.

"Okaaaaay," laughed America, "C'mon, Iggy, I want to show you this new video game Japan gave me!"

"America, you bloody git! I don't want to see some idiotic game!" Britain protested, as America dragged him down the hall.

France reappeared next to Canada, chuckling slightly at the sound of America and Britain arguing in the living room.

"Okay, France," Canada said, "Tell me what you're up to."

7:53 P.M.

After dinner, Britain and America resumed their arguing in the living room. America had somehow convinced Britain to play Left 4 Dead 2 with him, and, well, Britain kinda sucked at it.

It wasn't hateful arguing though. It was more like bickering. A lover's quarrel as France would put it. Throughout the arguing, zombie shooting, and listening to the profanities being spewed out by the characters on-screen, Britain couldn't stop himself from smiling. He didn't want to admit it, but he was rather enjoying his time with the idiot sitting next to him on the couch.

A loud yawn escaped Britain's mouth.

"Dude, you're tired, already? You're getting' old, dude."

"Oh, shut it, you wanker!" Britain snapped, "At least I wasn't yawning through the entire conference."

"Hey, that was a pretty boring-ass conference. There were probably only ten minutes out of that entire conference where we actually discussed world issues."

"What about Germany's introduction? He gave overviews of the issues and allowed us a little input before went into detail about them."

"Yeah, but no one ever actually listens to that. I was playing solitaire on my phone!"

A/N: Okay, so that's the end of the first chapter. Sorry if it's too OOC! Next chapter, SHIT WILL GET CRAZY! It's too bad that Britain's tired, because he is NOT getting any sleep tonight! Poor Iggy. He must hate New York City. I don't really like the insane traffic in NYC and how you can't walk down the street without walking into people. Although really weird, funny stuff happens in New York. For example, once, I was walking to a café for breakfast and I heard this random dude shouting "AW SHIT! AW SHIT! PEOPLE MAKIN' LOVE IN THE MORNING!" To this day I have still think about that and laugh. Although that kind of stuff is probably normal to people who live in New York. I live in Connecticut. Nothing ever happens in Connecticut :( Well, until next time. See ya!