Hello~! So, this is I fic that I've writen for my OC who represents a country that doesn't actually exist...

But I hope you like this, anyway! I've been working really hard on it!

Oh, and I own Hetalia about as much as I own the world, which, in case you were wondering, is not at all.

Enjoy~

Chapter 1

A fight with sleep is never an easy battle to win. Sleep is always the victor, eventually. Alex had been in the battle for a few hours, now, and was just about to lose. Her head fell back to the pillow that cushioned her back from the hard head board as she nodded off. The laptop, which had been resting on her lap, slid softly onto the bed. In just seconds, any consciousness she had once had, completely evaded her, now.

At about three o'clock in the morning, the computer screen started to glow. It was a strange, unearthly, green-white glow; not something the laptop could create on its own. Suddenly, the screen rippled, like the surface of once still water. Four figures came tumbling out. The first was a fairly tall man with short blond hair, a little cow lick always out of place, and blue eyes. He wore faded jeans, which were frayed at the ends, and a brown number 50 bomber jacket over a blue shirt, with "Hero" written on the front. The next was slightly shorter with longer, wavier, slightly lighter blond hair and blue eyes that looked almost purple. He wore jeans, which were darker and in better shape than the first's, and a red hoodie with a maple leaf printed on the front. The third to tumble out of the laptop was just in between the heights of the first two, and had shoulder length blond hair and bright blue eyes. He wore black pants, a white button up shirt, which was tucked into his pants, and, over that, a stylishly unzipped light, black sweat shirt. It was the latest of fashion in Europe. The last to emerge from the computer was easily the shortest. He had short, blond hair, and bright green eyes under large, bushy eyebrows. He wore a black suit, tie and all, and a light blue shirt under it.

The four of them lay in a pile on the floor for a moment. Soon, they all began to squirm, and fell of each other. When they looked around, they were most certainly not where they ought to be.

"Arthur," came a French accented voice. "Where have you brought us?"

"Well, I'm sure I don't bloody well know, Francis," a British accent came from the one with the green eyes.

"Dude," said the one with the 'Hero' shirt as he stood and spotted Alex sleeping on the bed. "Artie, you landed us in a chick's room!"

"Hell," Arthur whispered to himself as he saw his friend was right. "Well, its not my bloody fault! You broke my concentration, Alfred, you git!"

"H-how are we going to get to the meeting, now," asked a quiet voice coming from the one in the hoodie.

""Who cares, Mattie," Alfred asked with a shrug.

All four of them stood, watching the sleeping girl while they thought about what to do. They were silent as she slept. A lock of her long, slightly wavy, milk chocolate brown hair fell away from her fair skinned face. They noticed that she had fallen asleep in her every day clothes, which included a pair of flair bottom jeans and a blue b-neck baby-T. As he saw the reading glasses that lay on the table, Francis wondered what color her eyes were.

She started to roll over in her sleep, but it caused her to fall from her sitting position. This caused her to wake with a start. She sat straight upright, legs crossed, Indian-style. Slowly, she looked over at the four beside her bed.

"What in the name of all that is pure are you doing in my room," she shouted. So fast it was difficult to process, she had reached behind her and grabbed the pillow, swing it so it caught Alfred hard in the ear. She held up the pillow again, ready to swing if any of them so much as twitched.

There they were; her eyes. They were wide, beautiful, scared and threatening. Bright light somehow shown out of the deep, dark brown. It would be easier to get lost in her capturing, innocent gaze than in any winding, forking, dark tunnel. And every singe one of them were lost too much so to answer her.

"I asked you a question," she yelled, again. Another swing of the pillow caught Francis in the face, which snapped all of them out of their trance.

Still not quite thinking straight, Alfred was the first to speak. "Iggy, here," he said pointing a thumb at Arthur. "Was trying to get us the world meeting, and magicked us to the wrong place."

The other three just stood there and gaped at him. They couldn't believe he had just said that.

"World meeting, huh," she questioned, not believing him, either, but for a completely different reason than the others. "If it's a meeting for the world, why wasn't I invited?"

"Because it's only a meeting for us countries," he answered smugly before his friends could stop him. The answer earned him a hard smack on the head from Arthur. He then realized what he had just said, and look horrified.

One of Alex's brows rose. "You're trying to tell me that the four of you," she said, making a little circle around them in the air with her index finger. "That you're… Countries?"

Matthew shook his head franticly, and Arthur said, "No, no! Of course not! T-that's not even possible." He gave a forced little laugh.

She stared at them, wide eyed. Their denying it simply confirmed one fact; these four guys, who had magically appeared in her room, actually thought they were countries.

She scooted off the bed and stood up, her weapon pillow still held up threateningly. They could see now that she was quite tall; well over five and a half feet. She was almost as tall as Francis. Her hair fell about half way down her back, and a few flay away strands hung in front of her face.

"Explain," she ordered with a threatening jab at Francis. What she had meant to say was 'get out', but somewhere between her logical brain and her mouth, the words had changed. Curse her curiosity; it was going to be the death of her.

The four exchanged glances, nervously. This girl was almost… scary. Not that she could ever hurt them, especially not with a pillow. But her deep eyes and I'll-kick-you-butt attitude were threatening, even to these "countries".

"W-well," said Matthew, speaking for the first time. Oddly enough, the other three couldn't seem to speak. "T-the best way to e-explain, is that w-we're the human personifications of o-our countries."

Still perfectly silent, Alfred, Arthur, and Francis looked at Matthew. They stared at him in shock; partly from him speaking, but mostly from what he had finally decided to say. It wasn't like Matthew to spill secrets like that.

"W-what," he asked a little offended, his voice jut as soft as ever. "I-it wasn't like you wouldn't have told her. E-especially you, Francis. You w-would give a pretty girl whatever she wanted."

After the last sentence, Matthew turned pink. In fact, every face in the room had turned pink. Alex from being called pretty, and the others because they knew they agreed. None there, however, had turned brighter than Francis. For whatever reason, he didn't want Alex to know how he usually acted. He… he felt different around her.

Alex gave a little cough to break the tension. "Personified countries, huh," she asked with a humored little smile. "Then let me see if I can guess."

She walked over to Matthew, first, since he had answered her question. His blush returned as she came closer. "You smell like maple syrup," she said with a little giggle. "But your hoodie gives you away. You're Canada, right?"

He nodded in shock. It was surprising that someone could see him, but she had guessed who he was. They had never met, and she had just found out about the secret, and she had known who he was. He smiled happily, sure that this would be the best day of his life.

Alex smiled back, and moved on to Alfred. "You have a grease stain on your shirt," she pointed out. "You're obviously very… confident in yourself. Maybe more than you should be, Mr. Hero. I'm going to have to say 'America'." Alfred smiled brightly at her correct guess, and she moved on to Arthur.

"I caught your accent earlier, which makes this too easy," she smiled, and spoke in her next words in a perfect British accent. "I must say, your accent is far too addictive to speak in, England?" He blushed at her imitation, and she moved to the last in line; Francis.

"Well," she said, sounding a bit unsure. "The most I can gather suggests France? But you don't exactly act how I would expect the country of 'l'amour'" She rolled her eyes a bit here. "Would act."

Francis blushed a bit when the girl used the French world for love. But… why? Why would he blush? He hardly ever blushed, much less at something so small as the use of his language.

"Well done," Arthur applauded, drawing Alex's attention away from Francis, much to his relief. The Brit then checked his watch. "You have quite the talent, but we must be going, now. We're going to be late." With that, he reached into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled something out. It was a want; white with a little yellow star at the top. He twirled it once quickly through his fingers and then set to work drawing an elaborate, glowing circle on the floor, a little ways off from the group. When he had finished, the lines glowed brighter and there was one little ripple in the floor.

"I-I'm sorry," came Matthew's quiet voice. "I don't think I caught your name."

"Alex," she answered as she cautiously followed the others to the edge of the circle. "What is-" she was cut off by her won gasp. Arthur had stepped into the circle; it started to ripple as he sank into the floor.

"Well," he said with a small smile at her gasp. "That is Arthur." He motioned to the Brit as he disappeared. "Alfred," he motioned to the American as he, too, started to disappear. "My name is Matthew, and this is Francis." He stepping into the circle and started to sink, as well. "It was nice meeting you." And then, Francis was the only country left in the room.

"Adieu, mon ami," he said with a little smile as he stepped into the circle. Strange, he would usually call everyone 'cher', even cherAngleterre. He almost never simply called someone a friend.

"Wait, what the-" She stepped into the circle and grabbed Francis's arm. And began to sink into the floor with him.

"We… We're never going to see her again, are we, Arthur," Matthew asked sadly.

"No," he answered, shaking his head. "I'm afraid n-"

But he was cut off by Francis magically appearing thought the floor. Soon after came Alex, which was the real shock. Arthur could have swore that he had designed the portal to transport four… Could this girl have magical powers of her own? There was no other way to explain it. For a moment, all four,(and everyone else in the conference room), just stared at the girl, who still had hold of Francis's arm. Alex looked around in wonder at all the staring strange people around her, trying to figure out how exactly she had gotten here.

"Alex," Matthew exclaimed in his quiet voice, breaking the silence in the room. His face instantly brightened, as did Arthur's and Alfred's. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I was wondering that, myself," she answered with a smile. "Where exactly is 'here'?" Most of the other countries, by now, had gone back to what they had been doing.

"This is the conference room where we hold world meetings," Arthur answered, and then sighed. "And we're already running late, so I don't have time to send you back. You'll have to wait until the meeting is over."

She was about to say that she didn't really mind and that she was excited to see what a meeting of the world was like, but she was cut off by the arrival of two new peo- countries. The first was a tall blonde with blue eyes. You could see that he was quite muscular under his formal clothing. Springing up behind him was a little brunet with brown eyes.

"If you all are ready, we need to start the meeting," the blonde said as he approached. His eyes swept over the little group and landed questioningly on Alex.

"This is Alex, guys," Alfred piped up with a smile. "Alex, this is Ludwig and Feliciano." He pointed to each in turn, indication Ludwig as the blonde and Feliciano as the brunet.

"Alex?" Feliciano chirped. "Isn't that a boy's name?" He bounced up and down a little, a friendly smile on his face. He obviously didn't mean anything by the question.

Ludwig sighed. "Feliciano," he hissed under his breath.

"My full name is Alexandria," she explained, smiling sweetly at her bouncy new acquaintance. "But it's a bit of a mouth full, so I tell everyone to call me Alex." She looked Ludwig up and down and did the same with Feliciano. After considering their names, accents, and obviously friendly relationship, she made up her mind of who they were. "Germany and Italy, right?"

"Ve~! That's amazing," Feliciano said brightly. "How did you do that?"

"Excuse me, Alex," Ludwig said in his German accent. "But are you a country?"

"No," she answered with a shake of her head."I'm just a normal person." Her smile began to fade as she thought about this. "I'm sorry, I'm probably not supposed to be here, am I?"

"I'm afraid not," he answered. "You'll have to wait outside."

"Alright," she said, her smile retuning. She looked back as Ludwig escorted her to the only door in the room to see five worried faces. "Don't worry, guys, I'll be fine! It's not that big of a deal." She gave a little wave as she walked out the door. As soon as it closed behind her, the entire room burst out into conversation; all about some human girl knowing who they were. Alfred, Arthur, Matthew, and Francis had a lot of explaining to do.

Alex sighed now tat she was alone. She had wanted to witness a meeting of the world. She was sure it would have been quite the story when she when she got home. But at least she didn't have to go home, yet; she still wanted to meet the other countries. She doubted that this opportunity was given to many people.

Suddenly, she heard the quick footsteps of someone running. She looked around, and saw a little boy running toward her. He was cute, maybe nine or ten, and blonde. His blue eyes shown with a childish excitement.

"Whoa," he exclaimed. "Jerk England was telling the truth! A pretty girl was kicked out of the meeting!" He turned around and nearly tripped as he walked backwards. "Gilbert! C'mon, hurry up!"

"Ja, ja, I'm coming," came another German voice, a little annoyed. The owner of the voice appeared from around the corn, walking lazily with his hands in the deep pockets of his slightly sagged jeans. His skin was very pale, and his silver hair was stylishly messy, and his blood red eyes said, 'what is this kid going on about, now?'

The boy turned back around and ran the rest of the distance to Alex. She stood there, just looking at the new comers. Were… were these two countries, as well? shecouldn't think of anywhere where they could represent.

"Hello," the little blonde greeted brightly. "My name's Peter, and that's Gilbert." He paused and turned to point at the still walking albino. "You're Alex, right?" he asked, tuning back to her. "And you're not a country, just a normal person?"

"Yes," she answered with a nod, and looking at Gilbert, who had just arrived. "But what about you? You're both countries, right? Why aren't you in the meeting?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes at her ignorance and Peter visibly saddened. What had she said?

"The kid represents the Principality of Sealand, which is not a country," Gilbert explained, and Peter sighed a little. He stood up a little straighter as he introduced himself. "And I represent the awesome Prussia! Which, unawesomely, is no longer a country." His chest fell slightly.

"Well, I'm happy I don't have to wait here alone," she said with a smile. Then she paused, and thought. "How did you know who I was and that I was here, anyway?"

"Arthur text me," Peter answered, pulling his phone out of his pocket as if to prove it was true. "He said that a pretty human girl was kicked out of the meeting. He told me to keep an eye out for her and tokeep her out of trouble. Usually Arthur's just a big jerk, so I had to come see if he was telling the truth."

"Well, I'm sorry you both don't get to be in the meeting," she said as her blush from being called pretty, for the second time that day, faded. "But I'm glad I don't have to sit out here alone."

Suddenly, there was a little cheep. Alex looked around, and saw that there was now a little yellow chick perched on top of Gilbert's head. Her eyes widened, and she wondered why neither Gilbert nor Peter seemed to find the bird's presence strange.

"Gilbert," she said, shock and confusion in her voice. "There's a bird… on top of your head." She felt the need to point it out. Perhaps he hadn't noticed?

"Oh," Gilbert said, glancing up, as if he would see the bird. He reached up to his head, and the chick hopped into his palm. Holding the bird out to Alex, he said, "This is Gilbird. Gilbird, this is Alex."

Gilbird peeped and hopped from Gilbert's hand to Alex's shoulder. He then bounced across her shoulder, closer to her neck, and began to nuzzle her cheek. She giggled and put her hand up so that he could hop into her palm. Gilbird nestled into her hand as she stroked his soft, fuzzy head with one finger.

"He's so sweet," she cooed, and Gilbird cheeped happily.

"Yeah, he's pretty awesome, for a bird," Gilbert said with a smile, which very soon turned cocky. "Not as awesome as me, of course." Then he laughed. It was a strange laugh; more like 'kesese' than 'hahaha'.

"Oh, yes," she said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes. "Be it human, beast, or god; all pale in comparison to the awesome essence of Prussia! All hale Lord Gilbert!" At the end of her little speech, she gave a mocking bow, careful not to drop Gilbird.

Gilbert's cocky smile faded into a disapproving sneer at her sarcastic tone. He wasn't used to being made fun of. By now, most everyone would simply ignore when he called himself awesome, or, at least, they would roll their eyes. Then who was this chick to mock his obvious awesomeness?

"C'mon, Gilbird," Gilbert ordered, holding out his hand to the bird. "You don't need to be hanging out with such bad influences."

Gilbird chirped angrily at his owner's hand. He turned and flapped sloppily back to Alex's shoulder. There, he peeped happily and snuggled up to Alex's neck.

"S-stop, that tickles," she giggled. Then, she looked into Gilbert's eyes with a triumphant smile. "It looks like you're not as 'awesome' as you like to pretend you think you are. Even your bird likes me better."

"Traitor," he growled at the bird, only to receive another angry cheep. "He must really like you; though, I'm not sure why." He glared at the little yellow bird, though, now, he wasn't so much as angry as confused. Gilbird usually preferred to be with other country personifications than with humans. Then, he suddenly seemed to remember something. "Wait, what do you mean, 'pretend'"

She huffed slightly and shook her head. "If you honestly can't figure it out, maybe you're just as ignorant and conceited as you act," she replied harshly. "Either that or you're just stupid; either are possible. Tell you what, if you can't figure it out, maybe I'll tell you; eventually."

Gilbert sneered, non to happy about being called ignorant. He looked as if he were about to say something quite nasty when he was cut off by the all but forgotten little blonde.

"Guys," he begged, tugging on Alex's hand. "Please stop fighting! I-I… Just please stop fighting!" He looked and sounded like he was about to cry.

Alex looked down at the boy tugging at her hand/ her brown eyes immediately softened when she saw the tears welling up in his blue. She quickly pulled him into a comforting hug; the kind that had just the feminine touch to make the world seem a little better.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Peter," she said soothingly. "We didn't mean to upset you. It was nothing, honestly."

Peter held her back, and pretended to take a moment to calm down. During this time, he looked up at Gilbert and smiled. He had a look that clearly said, 'bet you wish you hadn't fought, now'. Yes, peter thought to himself. It was good to be a twelve year old that looked eight.

Gilbert gawked at Peter. Why that little…he thought. "O-oi-" he exclaimed at Peter, but he was cut off. Alex looked over at him, and he reeled back; until he noticed her eyes no longer held their previous ire.

"I'm sorry," she apologized stiffly, yet sincerely. "I've only just met you; I shouldn't have said the things I did. Truce?" She let go of Peter with one arm, leaving the other around him, and held her now free hand out to Gilbert.

He didn't except her hand, immediately. He didn't want to forgive her. She had hurt his pride ad brought to the surface feelings he usually suppressed. But Mein Gott she was making it difficult to stay angry. Her eyes, which he would have sworn were cold and black just moments ago, now looked like pools of melted chocolate. And how could anyone refuse an apology with chocolate?

"Ja, ja," he mumbled, grudgingly taking her hand and giving a curt shake. He found that it was worth forgiving her when she smiled. It was a true smile, quite unlike the mocking smirks she had given him earlier.

"Well, I want to go exploring," she declared, removing her other arm from around Peter. "You guys want to come?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned and began to walk off.

"You little pervert," Gilbert said quietly so that Alex couldn't hear.

"I know how to stop a fight," he said with a happy grin and a shrug. "And you're just jealous because she hugged me and insulted you. Just be happy I got her to apologize; we both know you never would."

Just a Gilbert was going to reply, Alex turned around and yelled, "Are you guys coming or not?" She was half way down the hall, and waiting impatiently.

With a loud, childish laugh, Peter ran to catch up with her. Gilbert grudgingly broke into a jog so that he wouldn't be left behind.

I hope you like chapter 1~! I'll be posting chapter 2 as soon as I get it typed up!

I really hope you like this... Especially Alex! I really love writing her.

Thanks for reading~! ^^