A/N: Hey guys! So…I got bored, so I made this! Ah, the evil products of my mind. Sorry I haven't been updating lately, but Nanowrimo and term papers won't let me. I love you all! I can also guarantee some OCness from the Hetalia guys. Sorry folks.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character, no matter how much I wished I did.

They watched in dismay as America's newest assistant fled the room crying. The poor girl was just worked through, after having to put up with his antics on more than one occasion.

England frowned. "America, that's your fourth assistant in six weeks."

The man in question just shrugged, as if he wasn't at fault for all this.

A woman stood holding a clipboard and staring at a small piece of paper in her hand. She was dressed in business clothes, a navy pencil skirt with a matching jacket, a white blouse, and black high heels. Her light brown hair was half-up in a bun and half-down, hanging just past her shoulder blades, down her back. Her grey eyes glared frustration as she looked about her before glancing down at the scrap of paper. She had already asked for assistance at the main reception area and had been promptly informed that she must be in the wrong building, because the room she had been told to find didn't exist in this one. And yet, this little slip of paper said differently.

World Summit

9:00 AM

Conference Room H7

Her boss had told her he hand a new job for her, another 'impossible' case. Apparently he had been through four of the others in the past six weeks. She had seen them afterwards, and they had been in pretty bad shape. She wasn't really sure what was wrong with this guy, but he must be a handful. She angrily blew her bangs out of her face before with a sigh, she started down another long hallway. Her turquoise eyes were half-pleading and half-glaring as she searched for the room that she had been told to meet her new 'client' in.

She was so distracted that she didn't even see him until she bumped into him. She hit the ground, her light brown hair swirling around her, as her glasses slipped off her nose. She blinked in startlement before she apologized.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going." She mumbled, picking up the thin wire-framed glasses before returning them to where they belonged.

"Gomen. It was my fault as well." The man said, helping her up.

She nodded, grateful for the helping hand. "Arigato."

He seemed slightly surprised before the tiniest of smiles curled at the corners of his mouth.

The woman had reclaimed her clipboard and was preparing to continue on her way. The man paused, noticing something on the ground, and picked it up. His eyes widened slightly as he read the piece of paper, and then he recognized the handwriting.

"Excuse me, but do you know where that is?" She asked softly, noticing him reading the paper.

He nodded. "I was just going there now."

"Ah. Arigato." She smiled slightly in relief.

They quietly chatted in Japanese the entire way there, and the man seemed relatively happy to find someone who spoke his native tongue. When he hesitated slightly before the doors of the room, she just shrugged. What she saw when the door opened, all she saw was chaos.

There was a man sleeping propped up in his chair, though how he managed it with all this racket was beyond her. There was someone talking nonstop about pasta, and another grumbling about how loud everyone was. But the center argument caught her attention. The two men who were fighting looked suspiciously alike, except that one had ridiculous eyebrows and the other had normal eyebrows and glasses. They both had the same blond hair, and similar facial features.

She quietly watched for a minute, as she neared the pair of boys. The rest of the room had fallen relatively quiet, noticing the stranger in their midst, which only made their argument all the more audible. The two were so caught up in it, they didn't even notice her approach. Her turquoise eyes had settled on the one with glasses, as he matched the picture her boss had shown her. Without hesitation, she did what she needed to do to catch his attention.

She whacked him on the skull with her clipboard. There was a reason, after all, the silly thing was made of metal.

"Your directions suck." She commented coolly before walking away.

The man rubbed his head from where he sat on the ground. He could hear the others laughing, or see them smiling.

"Who do you think you are?" He demanded grumpily, still rubbing his head.

She looked at him with a smirk. "Your new assistant, apparently."

His face fell. "But…but…"

"But what?" she said teasingly, turning to face him fully. "But you chased away all the others; but you thought you weren't getting another one. I'm the one they send as a last resort, you know."

The man pouted. "Aw. This isn't fair. I don't want an assistant!"

"Well, maybe you wouldn't need one if you'd just behave, ja?" She retorted.

The room went quiet at that.

Then a brown haired guy practically glomped her. "Ve, who are you, where are you from?" He was clearly Italian, based on his accent.

"Eh? What do you mean?" She blinked slightly.

"Where are you from, silly?" he repeated.

She smiled slightly. "Well...I was born and raised in America, if that's what you mean. As to my nationality…" she shook her head. "…It's….complicated."

"You can tell me! I'll understand!" He said cheerily, having finally released her from the unwanted embrace.

"Well, I'm Irish, Canadian, German, and Swedish with God knows what else mixed in." She laughed quietly.

His eyes were huge. "That's amazing!"

"Oh, and my name is Kiera Kreiger."

"Why am I the only one to have an assistant? Why can't they have one?" The blond man whined.

She glared. "Put a cork in it already, will you? Your constant whining annoys me."

He gulped nervously. Her glare was dangerous. He could feel his hair standing up on end.

"Vell, now vat everything seems to ve under control, maybe ve can get on with vhe meeting?" A man with a heavy German accent said.

She sat quietly to the side, watching as they held their meeting. Her 'client' kept jumping up and saying random things about being the hero, and she had to keep forcibly reminding him to sit down and shut up. After just one day of it, she was irritated beyond belief and done. She was just done. He was insane. That was it. She didn't think she could put up with much more of this before she knocked him into next week.

As soon as the meeting ended, the light brown haired woman set the paper covered with her neat handwriting in front of him.

"Huh? What's this?" He wondered. The others had called him 'America' and she decided that it fit him in a way.

"I quit." She said, completely calm and collected.

"What do you mean?!" Oh boy, he was in trouble now.

She was already almost to the door. "Exactly what I said. I quit."

"Wait!" he cried out desperately, groping at strings. "Won't you be fired from your job if you quit being my assistant?"

She turned back to look at him. "And?" she waved one of her hands. "I can get a better one."

"B-but!" He was too late, she was already gone.

America slammed his head into the table. He was in so much trouble. Then, suddenly, a bright idea came to him.

"I know!" He shouted before tearing off down the hallway in pursuit of Kiera.