England threw his head on the smooth, wooden table. This world meeting was seriously tiring him out. Italy was constantly attempting to convince Germany that pasta was a gift from God, America, trying to prove Canada didn't exist, and Prussia was pestering Romano about his relationship with Spain. Sometimes he wondered if their meetings could even be called meetings. All they did was create more issues between themselves.

"Alright, mes amis! We're making fools out of ourselves!" England jolted up, and glanced to his right. France... France? You didn't see Francis trying to fix up meetings everyday. "I suggest we actually try and resolve some issues instead of causing more." England nodded,

"I agree with Francis." A few murmurs of agreement arose from the room. America jumped up,

"Well, being the hero I am! I'll lead in a dead serious conference!" England, who happened to be sitting right next to him, gripped his shoulder and yanked him down.

"In your dreams," America whined, and lowered his head.

"But Arthur~ I can be responsible when I want!" England rolled his eyes. He didn't even want to bother with his former colony today. France stood up in a regal fashion,

"May I lead us today?" England looked up at the elder country. He caught a glimpse of worry in his eyes; like something was troubling him. Sighing, he lowered his head in agreement. France's face lit up, "Great! Well... You all see..." Looking around the room, England noticed Canada tense up. What was going on? "Quebec's gone missing. Me and Matthew spent all weekend searching, but couldn't find him."

"Wait! A province of Canada's is gone?" All eyes were then turned to England, who had quickly gotten out of his chair. Canada sighed, and nodded sadly. "W-well, then we have to find him!" America joined in with England,

"Yeah! And since I'm the hero-"

"Shut up!" Canada screeched, cutting his brother off.

"You'll find him! Yeah, Alfred! That's so assuring!" England felt his jaw drop. He'd never seen Canada so upset. Then again, if one of his provinces vanished, and idiot America played the 'I'm the hero' card, he would be pretty frustrated as well.

"S-sorry man!" America used his feet to push his rolling chair behind England. When Canada snapped, he often became very frightened. America stayed there for awhile, just shivering and trembling in dejection. Eventually, he manned up. Sighing, he stammered, "I-I really... I really am sorry, Mattie." Canada glanced to the side, groaning.

"Whatever. I've just been scared for the rest of my provinces. That's all. I didn't mean to take it out on you." Russia fiddled with his vodka bottle. He began to laugh. After about twenty seconds, it evolved into a humorous roar of capricious emotions. England, America, France, China, and Germany glanced at him uncomfortably. Germany was the first to talk, though. Through a trembling voice, he asked,

"What is it, Ivan?" Russia's laughter increase to a explosion of witticism. Italy, who just then apprehended what was happening. Did just what America had done before. He snatched unto Germany in the same manner America clinged to England. Russia wiped away tears that began to form in his eyes. Then, he finally responded to Germany's question,

"Isn't it simple? He became one with Russia." The room was filled with distress. As questions flew throughout the nation's heads. Did Russia take Quebec? Had he "done away with" him? Was he now Russia's new Russian America territory? "Well, left to join Russia, because I didn't take him." Gasps of relief replaced the paranoia. Italy flung his arms in the air, grinning wildly,

"Why don't we just relieve ourselves by eating lots and lots of pasta!" Germany snarled, "Pasta doesn't solve everything, Italy!" America raised him arms in agreement,

"Yeah! That's like saying Arthur's food is good!"

"Hey! You said you liked my food!" America clawed the back of him head, trying to find an excuse. Then he gave up.

"Yeah, well. I lied." England fell out of his chair in detestation, hitting the floor with a thump. He struggled to raise himself up. Once up, he pointed at America and shouted,

"W-well, don't lie to me again you bloody git!" America covered his mouth. Trying to refrain from laughing at England's total 'Old-Man' move. Instead, he used his head to acknowledge him. England sat down, quite pleased. "Now, shall we resume with the current issue at hand?" Italy clasped his hands. He opened his mouth, preparing to say something. But, before he could speak. Germany glared at Italy, causing him to shrink back. Canada, slightly doleful, bit his bottom lip.

"I...I'd like that, Arthur." England turned away. He couldn't bear to look at Canada with this going on. It was exactly the same with America and his states. If one went missing, or even got a small scab. He called him over the phone, bawling for assistance. "Does anybody have an idea where Aron might have gone?" A few ideas spun around the run the room. Italy suggested he went to find foreign recipes for pasta, Germany pondered about he might have wandered off into the wilderness. After all, it was Canada. America, who was trying to bother England, proposed that he quietly declared independence... He was then knocked over the hit by his former brother's burly fist. Canada positioned his chin on the table, sobbing. "Thanks for the ideas. They all seem to be plausible... But hey don't seem to fit in with the situation. America, we haven't had any disagreements lately. We've been close! Germany, for you- Aron knows out wildernesses in and out. It doesn't make sense that he'd get lost. Italy... he doesn't like pasta." Two of the three men accepted their retort respectfully. Except Italy, who had begun to wail in enmity.

Germany rolled his eyes, brining up his hand and hitting Italy behind the head. This didn't help the situation at hand whatsoever, and instead caused the other country to wail louder.

Germany bit his lip before lowering his head into his hands, taking in a breath and letting it sharply out. A few Nations were staring at him about the harsh reaction, and Romano had began to scream at him. Ludwig removed his hands from his face and patted Italy on the shoulder. "Uh, Italy, I'm sorry. But, could you please be quiet?" Italy sniffled, before nodding.

The noisy chatter had resumed, but England stood up and got everyone's attention. "Listen, I know we're all distressed, but we still have a meeting to get to, alright? Alfred, go back to your chair, please." America, who had been comforting Canada, nodded and sat down in the chair, back to his spot at the large table. Arthur noticed an odd look about France. He couldn't tell if it was nervous, scared, or… just a usual France look. He was also glancing at America oddly.

Arthur didn't like the look on the other Nation's face one bit. A surge of protectiveness flashed through his head, ready to protect Alfred, like he would have, well, any day. Just because the other had become independent, England still felt oddly maternal towards him. Arthur shrugged off the looks. France could be… weird anyways. He remembered when he'd almost forced England to marry him. Hah. Right…

"Now, lets not get side-tracked here. We still have a meeting underway!" England reminded everyone. America looked up from the distraught Cananda, then nodded, giving his twin one last hug before returning to his seat at the head of the table. Romano stopped yelling at Germany for slapping his brother, and resumed twiddling his fingers. Spain tried wrapping an arm around the Southern part of Italy, which Lovino snarled and slapped away, yelling more profanity before quieting down again. Spain just chuckled, murmuring something to himself. France kept glancing around at everyone.

"Now, how about Global Warming?"

Everybody groaned.

...

The meeting had finally ended with a stupid resolution as always. America skipped out joyfully, elated about going him to eliminate the evil monsters in Resident Evil, which seemed to be one of his favorite games. England came out shortly after, along with Germany and Italy. Arthur was still uncomfortable about Quebec going missing. He had given some deep though to it, and it was difficult to think of anyone who was land and power hungry- America. Did America take Quebec? When Matthew first brought it it, he didn't really seem to care much. Was it because he was already aware of where Aron was? England shook his head. Nonsense, America wasn't that stupid... Okay, he was that idiotic and dense. He was the perfect type of person to capture Quebec. Even if it was just to poke at Canada for a week or two, America was still completely capable of doing so. Convinced by his hypothesis, he grabbed the capering America, and dragged him to the side. He quietly whispered, "Alfred, I need to talk to you for a second..." Alfred grinned,

"Why sure, British dude!" Arthur winced. This was a difficult question to ask somebody. Do you just walk up and say, 'Uh,yeah. Did you take Quebec'? Finally mustering up the courage to ask him, he cautiously murmured,

"I know it was you." Alfred blinked, as if in total confusion. Arthur joined in with the same lack of understanding. Didn't he know what he was talking about? "Alfred, I know it was you." America bit his tongue,

"Hrm..?" Arthur contracted his eyes in anger. How long could he put up the facade?

"Don't mess around with me, Alfred F. Jones. I know it was you who committed this deed!" America glanced to the side, to think, then quickly turned back. Instead of confused he was cross. Arthur's rage built, "Just admit it! You did it, I know you did!"

"What are you saying?" America yelled.

"That you took Quebec!" England hissed. Alfred glared at his older brother, teeth grit in a snarl.

"That's so stupid! Why do you always have to blame me for everything!" Arthur snorted.

"You only bought Alaska to get Russia out of Canada and for land! I bet you think you could use some more!" America stood up, slaming his hand on the table.

"So? Russia is a creep! What is it with you? Ever since I declared my independence, its like you have something against me," England scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Please… I don't have time for this. Just tell me you did it…" Alfred howled and flung himself at England, pinning him against the wall.

"You! Just cut it out." His voice was dangerously low. "You're just being stupid. You just can't let it go, huh? That I wanted my own way?" Arthur took in a sharp breath, clenching his fists.

"L-let me go!"

America narrowed his eyes to slits, before turning away. "Whatever. I didn't do it, okay?" He released his tight grasp on England, and casually walked away. Arthur stood breathless. He'd never seen America so defensive over something before, even when the evidence pilled against him. This was something he would do, England knew that. Arthur threw his left arm behind his head, and began walking home. The meeting was over, and so was this useless argument. He was positive he was correct, so it didn't even matter to drag to culprit into the web. Eventually, without even realizing it, England had made it to the exit of the World Conference Hall. Frowning, he pushed the heavy door open.

This year they had decided to have the convention in London. So it happened to be very convenient for Arthur, because he could just walk home, while the others had to take planes or grueling bus rides.

At one point, England had just decided to gaze around, and admire his beautiful city. However, during this grave silence of enjoyment, he felt a slight buzz arising from his hip. A text? Arthur, and most of the more elderly countries didn't like sending text messages. In England's opinion, it was more productive to just talk to someone instead of sending a message. It gives it more meaning. Groaning, he dug into his pocket, and pulled out his phone.

To Arthur:

I wasn't lying, you know. In all honesty, Quebec bothers me. All he eats is Salmon, and creepy French breads. So... if you're reading this, because, I know you don't like text messages. I just want to tell you I'm right, and you're wrong.

Yours truly, Alfred.

P.S You still owe me a crapton of money...

England sighed. He knew America had only tried to convince England of his innocence (Regardless of the harsh tone he texted it in). But he wasn't one-hundred percent sure of him yet. I mean, it was Alfred. England shook his hair out. Stuff like this shouldn't be bothering him right now. He had business to attend to. More important things such as assisting Canada in recovering Quebec, Discussing important national topics with his boss, and keeping his country in order. He didn't have time for Alfred's whiney, dimwitted excuses for getting out of trouble. They wouldn't help him right now.

A cold wind breezed by, breaking his trail of thought. It was November twenty-first, if Arthur had correctly read his calendar that morning. Thanksgiving, one of Arthur's least favorite holidays was soon. Along with Christmas... Winter sure was fast approaching at a break-neck speed. Grabbing his long, fleece coat, he pulled it up to cover his neck slightly more then it used to... November had always been Alfred's least favorite month. He claimed it was when the beautiful warm weather left, and replaced itself with cold hearted weather. Arthur couldn't help but quickly pause to laugh, then resume his walk home. America had always made hilarious alibis to try and avoid trouble. If he just came clean, it would all be fine. He wouldn't be so annoyed anymore.

After a small short minutes of walking. England finally arrived at his house. He rushed up to the door, clunked in the key, turned, opened the door, then walked into his home. Finally, he was home and he could take a rest. Before he could put his plan into action, a young voice startled his daydreaming.

"How was the meeting?" He glanced over to see Sealand, who had been staying with him for some time. Arthur smiled,

"All was well. You didn't miss anything, Peter. So don't bother fretting about it." Sealand nodded, then asked,

"Your going to feed me, right?"

"Didn't one of the housekeeper's feed you?"

"No." Arthur sighed, then lowered his head, signaling he would prepare some food for his younger brother. "Good, and make it fast. I haven't eaten since breakfast." Sealand crossed his arms, then trotted off to the room where he was staying temporarily. Arthur softly chuckled at the younger nations actions. He could be so immature at times, similar to what Alfred used to be like. England's smile grew as he walked into the kitchen to fix a late lunch for Sealand. He blew some excessive air out of his nose. When were Finland and Sweden coming to take him back?

xXxXx

South Dakota squealed as paper sailed over his head several times. The meeting room they used, smaller than the Nations', was filled with noise like a Junior High class after eating candy. Delaware, at the head of the room, was screaming at the top of his lungs trying to get everyone to calm down. The oldest State was the spitting image of England, or as South Dakota dubbed him, 'Uncle Arthur', except his eyes and hair. His hair bore resemblance to America, even the small curl at the side of his head, and Delaware's eyes were a stunning blue. North Dakota sighed and shook his head, blocking Seth from any more paper flung. "This is going no-where." Delaware groaned and slammed his head on the sable a few times, for good measure.

"And, New York, Michigan, get your feet off the table." The two gangly states looked up at Delaware. New York flashed a grin at Delaware, showing off a few studded gold teeth, before leaning back in the rollie chair.

"Mm, nah man, I'm good." South Dakota whined, looking to his side, where Alaska was fretting slightly.

"A-Alaska, you should… relax…" Seth suggested. Demitri gripped his fingernails deep into the table. Frustrated at Seth's comment.

"How can I? Quebec is gone, and Canada is flipping out, I'm flipping out!" Demitri screamed, flinging his arms up. The younger Dakota squeaked, shrinking in his chair. North Dakota looked over his younger brother.

"One of Canada's provinces has done missing?" Alaska nodded solemnly. The room they were in hushed, even New York and Michigan were quiet. All eyes were on Demitri. Shaking in fear, he went on explaining the situation.

"W-well, we don't really know what happened. But… we woke up and Quebec wasn't anywhere." Hushed, scared whispers rippled through the states. Alaska sighed, his lip trembling. "I'm just so worried, Quebec is so strong and tough. He couldn't be lost like this..."

Delaware narrowed his eyes. "He could have just… gone somewhere." He said, voice thickly laced with a British accent.

"Dude! He would have told us! He always does!" A few murmured amongst themselves, while others stayed quiet. Alaska head desked, and Seth patted him on the back.

"Don't worry. I'm sure he's fine!" The Dakota said with a smile. Demitri swiftly gazed across the states in the room. All of them having the same expression has Seth did. A look of hope, and faith. Alaska pulled his face away, not wanting to look at any of his fellow states. And threw his face into his long red, white and blue flannel shirt.

"I hope…" Alaska mumbled into his arm.