A/N: The other countries make an appearance and I attempt to do accents, yay! Japan will pronounce his 'L' like an 'R' and therefore it will be written as such. Oh, the reader or 'I' in the story addresses the Italy brothers by their human names because those are the names she met them first under, in addition, she, when using country names, will call N. Italy, Veneziano and S. Italy, Romano. This is because in my mind, she learned the use of country names from the brothers, and Romano never calls N. Italy just Italy; this is why she will never call N. Italy just Italy either.

3rd Person POV

The tall man frowned deeply at his shot glass, downing the whiskey. He ran a hand through his dark brown hair, sighing. "Pour me 'nother," he ordered the bartender who stood behind the polished wooden counter.

The bartender, an older, graying man frowned as he watched his customer.

"I said, pour me another," he ordered, waving his hand with the glass for emphasis. His words were slightly slurred.

The bartender sighed and poured him another shot, which the dark haired man immediately downed.

The man, Thicket Mann was having an awful week. He had finally tracked down decedents of the men that killed his grandfather. They had gotten away, along with a strange girl. He had never seen or heard anything about her, and he found it irritating. There was something about her that made him mad, smile and want to wrap her up into a choke hold all at once.

"Damn it," he swore, staring at the empty glass. "Give me another," he sighed and waved his hand to prove a point.

"It's on me," a smooth silky voice replied. A woman dropped into the chair next to him. "'Ello Thicket, you're looking grim," the voice purred softly.

"Shuddup Ricki," Thicket slurred. "I have 'ad a bad day. . . make that week. . . yes week."

Ricki was a very pretty young woman with shiny blond hair and piercing purple eyes. "Listen Thick-Head," she spat, using her shoulder to prop up Thicket's lolling head. "I only helped you track those damned boys down 'cause I got a bone to pick with one of their friends. You get your revenge; I get Arthur Kirkland's number, that little weasel of a 'magician'," her eyes narrowed coldly. "Thicket, if you don't keep your end, well," she smirked. "I don't have to keep mine, think about it," she dropped a twenty on the counter and stood, smirking. "Think about it."

My POV

I awoke the next morning to chirping birds and the smell of garlic bread. I sighed, yawning before getting up and getting dressed in a (f/c) sun dress. I brushed my hair and pinned it behind my ears with a matching clip.

"Morning," I smiled as I entered the kitchen to find that the two brothers were awake.

"Ciao (Name)!" Feliciano said from where he stood by the toaster.

Lovino muttered a sleepy and less enthusiastic 'good morning' into his cup of coffee.

I laughed as I walked by him, ruffling his hair playfully. "Good morning to you too Sleeping Beauty."

Lovino muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'Damn right, good morning' to his scrambled eggs.

Feliciano sighed. "Don't mind mio fratello, he's not a morning person. Here," he smiled brightly and passed me a plate of eggs and toast.

"Thank you," I took a bite and after a moment asked, "So why are you two going to a meeting?"

"It's a World Conference!" Feliciano cheered as he washed the dishes, casting a glance at his brother. "You'll get to meet Germany and Japan, and Big Brother Spain! Lovino's very close to him!"

Lovino yawned and passed his brother the dishes. "I'd better go get ready; we wouldn't want to leave the Potato Bastard waiting."

"Fratello, that's rude," Feliciano said with a sigh as if they had had this conversation a million times. "Alright go on," he took the plate from his brother and turned back to the sink.

I took my own plate over to where he was washing the dishes by hand. "Your brother doesn't really get along well with some of your friends, does he?"

"No," Feliciano looked down at the soapy water. "He doesn't . . . sometimes, I'm thankful for that. . ." he trailed off slightly and then broke out into a small smile. "It doesn't bother me, he has his own friends and for that, I'm grateful!"

Forty minutes later, we were piled into Lovino's black sports car, driving down the road. Feliciano kept singing some cheery sort of Italian pop song at the top of his lungs, as Lovino rolled his eyes good-naturedly at his brother, leaving me laughing at both of their antics.

We parked by a large brick building at the edge of town. Lovino held the door open for us, as Feliciano pulled me inside, chattering about how excited he was.

"Wait, a moment!" I laughed as he pulled me up the stairs, his brother following him, chastising him gently in Italian.

Feliciano didn't pay any attention and pushed the door to the conference room open. "We're here!" he announced to the crowed room. "And I brought (Name) too!"

The room fell silent. "Hola! Bonjour! Hallo!" a chorus of 'hello's met my ears, causing a slight blush to rise to my cheeks.

"Bonjour!" a heavy French accent said, standing in front of me was a blond-haired man with piercing blue eyes. He smiled at me and handed me a rose that he seemingly pulled out of nowhere.

"Get away from her, you French Frog," Lovino's voice met my ears as the rose was battered away by a tanned hand.

"Hola chica!" a tall man who was smiling cheerfully stood next to the 'French Frog'. He was smiling brightly as he presented his right hand, the other arm draped playfully over the other man's shoulder.

"Hello," I said kindly, ignoring Lovino who was glaring at the blond man.

"'Ello love," another blond haired man approached. He shoved into the longer haired male with a snide comment that I couldn't quite hear. "I'm Arthur," he gave Lovino and Feliciano a questioning look as if he wondered why I was here.

"It's okay England, she knows," Lovino said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh," the self-proclaimed 'Arthur' looked embarrassed. "Well then, I suppose I should introduce myself correctly. I'm England; it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Dude that's so cool!" the outburst came from a young man with sandy blond hair. He wore glasses and a brown leather jacket. "I'm America!"

"Nice to meet you," I smiled at him as the two Italy brothers led me over to an empty chair.

I sat down next to a dark-haired Asian man, with serious brown eyes. "Herro, I am Japan."

"Nice to meet you, I am (Name)."

He smiled. "Italy talks about you a lot."

"Italy?" I frowned slightly. "Oh, you mean Veneziano, don't you?"

Japan nodded politely as a stern, strong blond man walked into the room. I recognized him as Ludwig from a few days ago.

"Germany!" Feliciano cried; he launched himself at the man, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist. "Germany, Germany, come meet (Name)!" he smiled brightly.

The man, Ludwig, now identified as Germany, sighed patiently and allowed Feliciano to drag him over. "Hallo again," he said. "I guess that the cat iz out of the bag now, I am Ludwig, othervise known as Germany."

I smiled and introduced myself again.

The meeting lasted for a long time; in fact I rather lost count of time. It was noisy loud and hectic. England and the 'French Frog', who I later learned was France, kept fighting, their argument nearly mirroring that of the men identified as Norway and Denmark on the other side of the room. About thirty minutes after the start of the meeting, a tall man with sandy blond hair entered. He apologized for being late, blaming it on his sister, who stood behind him, chanting "Marry me, marry me, marry me!" Fifteen minutes after that Turkey and Greece began fighting, taking it to the floor.

When Germany had finally gotten fed up with the fighting and yelling after about an hour or so, he dismissed the meeting.

"Hey, dude, (Name)."

I turned away from the door to see who had been speaking to me.

America stood behind me a large grin on his face. "You know, I heard about your problem. I know that Italy and Romano have been good to you and all, but if you ever need more protection than they can provide; well," he blushed faintly, "you can come and stay with me. . . not that I like you. . . uh, not like that! You're a cool girl and all. What I mean to say is. . . I'm the hero and it's the hero's job to protect anyone he can, especially damsels in distress!" he smiled brightly and fist-pumped the air as he finished.

"Thanks America," I smiled and laughed, shaking my head at his speech. "It's a nice offer, but I'm really very happy where I am."

"Okay (Name), stay safe," America smiled brightly and pushed past me, going down the stairs with a faintly called "Canada, wait for me!"

I met Feliciano and Lovino by the car.

"Where were you?" Lovino asked sharply as I approached them.

"I was-America was talking to me," I admitted.

Something dark flickered in Lovino's gold-green eyes. "I see," he frowned and calmly tossed the keys to his brother. "Feliciano, take (Name) home. I have some . . . business to take care of."

Feliciano seemed to recognize the look in his brother's eyes and nodded frantically. "I will, come on (Name)," he took my arm and gently pulled me away.

"Oh, and Feliciano?" Lovino called back to us as Feliciano began to roll up the windows.

"Si fratello?" Feliciano locked eyes with his brother for a moment.

"Keep her safe for me, will you? For us," Lovino smiled slightly and unclicked his gun's safety, disappearing into the brick building.

"Feliciano?" I surprised myself at my high-pitched tone. "What is he going to do?"

"I don't know," Feliciano said, keeping his eyes on the road. He stopped at the red light and paused, looking over at me. Our eyes met. "I don't know," he sighed.

3rd Person POV

Lovino stalked into the building, tucking his gun back into the holster at his waist. "Stupid 'Hero'," he grumbled darkly. Past memories flashed in his mind, threating to overtake him. He paused in the hall and allowed them to wash over him.

Flashback

"Lovino!" she was standing there in the setting sun a large grin on his face. "Lovino! Alfred took me out today, we had so much fun!"

"Is that right?" Lovino remembered asking her as she bounded forward in a way that was so much like his brother.

"Yes! He was so kind!" she smiled as she settled in his arms, resting her head on her shoulder. "I'm so glad I met you and your brother."

"Really?" Lovino felt his heart lighten.

"Yes, of course," she laughed, her body vibrating against his. "If I hadn't met you, I never would have met Alfred."

"Oh," Lovino sighed, hiding his disappointment.

"I'm glad I met 'im," she murmured against his chest.

End of Flashback

Lovino growled angry as he was jolted back to the present. That stupid 'Hero'. Lovino held great resentment for that, even now, years later. He had always been compared to others. By his grandfather, by Spain, and even she had. She had compared him to America and found everything she wanted in him, leaving Lovino behind. He was afraid that perhaps, history would repeat itself and (Name) would fall for America too. He decided darkly as he climbed the stairs he would not let that happen. He would never let that happen again.