A/N: Sorry, no one guessed closer! You'll see the mystery item in Russia's suitcase in a few chapters. I kinda kept this chapter waiting to let everyone review, but I think that's done now. And as for Eros & Psyche... I WAS KIDDING ABOUT THE PWP THING, I SWEAR! I WAS KIDDING! It's not that at all, but it will include quite a few sex scenes. It's just that I ran the idea by a friend, and she commented, "this is just your excuse to write porn, isn't it, France?" So that's why... Seriously, check it out. The second chapter to that should be up in a few days and it it LONG! XD enjoy this chapter with lots of hyper America!

Review Replies:

Brattyteenagewerewolf: no, I think Russia would object to being called that. Object painfully with his pipe. And, yeah, America steals blankets. Should I have him snore? ;)

Angleterre97: Nope, you're off. Way off now. Though I do love your guesses… And that's a scary combo, Prussia and France… so do you want a one-shot? If so, I'll write when I find the time, but it won't be a priority

AniMe-n3rd-O-O: Aw, thanks, so glad you liked it! I also love RusAme, and I've been neglecting the pairing in this story a bit… It's just so much easier to write FrUK though!

Guest: Don't you wish. But you do get points for making me laugh so hard I scared my cat away…

Rinzlerkitty94 (Guest): We must be! Quick, when's your birthday? JK. Nice to meet someone with my personality type! LOL. And thanks, yeah, I'm also occasionally Russia (typecasting- my nationality is Russian) so it just comes naturally

The American Bastard: Nope, sorry! Thanks for reviewing!

momo (Guest): LOL. Sorry, you're wrong though! And what's unshadowed heart? It sounds cool! And thanks, I'm very proud of who I am It's also part of the reason I'm France in my group… lol.

~China~CPOV~China~

"Bon jour, China…" A sing-song voice abruptly woke me from my dreams. I opened my eyes to find… France. France? FRANCE! ON ME! IN THE BED! IMPROPER!

~France~FPOV~France~

China's a lot stronger than he looks. In one second I went from staring him in the face, kneeling above him in his lap to lying on the floor, rubbing my head where I'd hit a wall.

"A rather rude awakening," commented Russia, who'd had to move quickly to avoid my flying body.

"You'd think he'd be happy to see my gorgeous face first thing in the morning," I muttered. England snorted, and I put on a look of offense. Really! And he was so nice to me last night… well, not at first, but…

"Aw, come on, China! Get up or we'll eat all the breakfast!" America bounced on the bed while China groaned and got up.

"Well, I am hungry, aru…"

~England~EPOV~England~

I figured China would want to get dressed in private, so I yanked France out of the room while America and Russia left as well.

"BREEEAAAKFAAAAST!" America yelled and tore off down the hall, heading for the hotel restaurant.

"Vell, at least he's not still in his undervear," Commented Russia and I looked at him. I had to agree- thank God for small miracles. America had barged into the room I shared with France at six in the morning, clad only in boxers, and way too happy for so early in the morning.

~Russia~RPOV~Russia~

I hadn't gotten much sleep last night. Not only had America stolen the blankets, he'd also spread out all over the bed. I'd ended up just letting him stretch out on me, seeing as that was what he did every time I'd shoved him away. That, and, well, I kind of liked it. Then, he wakes me up at six in the morning, and runs to wake up England and France. He acts like he's five years old. Now he's yelling and running to get breakfast. Which means we have to go as well, before he eats everything.

"Ve'd better go; I actually vant some breakfast." France announced as soon as I thought of it, dragging England behind him. I followed the pair, watching with amusement as England tried to pry France off of him, with no success.

~France~FPOV~France~

I was taking England to breakfast, praying they had croissants.

They did.

….And now I'm in my happy place… What? I can't help it, I love the food from my country so much. It is the best, after all. England grabbed eggs and sausage- boring!- and after putting his plate down as far away from me as possible (I moved it, of course) he went around the entire buffet, looking for something.

"Vat are you searching for?" England jumped as Russia came up behind him.

"Oh, er, I just wanted some tea…" he trailed off, looking around. Aw, he was nervous talking to Russia. So cute!

"Vell, it's a good thing I brought some, then, da?" I looked up in surprise. Russia drank tea too? I thought that was a habit of just my sweet Angleterre…

Apparently he hadn't known either, because he had this adorable puzzled look on his face as he accepted the box of tea Russia handed him from the pocket of his jeans. (What is it with Russia and pockets? How on earth does he fit everything in there?!)

England and Russia had just sat down with their food and tea when America bounced up to us.

"Hey, Russia, man, did you see?! They have PANCAKES!" He yelled and thrust the plate in Russia's face, who leaned back, out of reach of the hot syrup which was threatening to drip into his lap.

"Da, I saw…" he replied, pushing the plate away as America sat down next to him.

"Aw, come on, I thought Ruskies liked pancakes!" America was waaay too hyper. It's why I preferred Canada; a lot quieter. And he makes delicious maple syrup…

"They're called bliny. And they're not pancakes, they're more like France's crepes." I saw a few people glance at us curiously.

"Mon amis," I began, "ve should probably use our human names. People vill vonder if ve are constantly calling each other the names of countries." They sighed, but agreed.

"Does everyone know everyone's names?" England asked. Oh, yes… I'd forgotten not everybody might know names. We went around the table, introducing ourselves.

"Yao Wang, aru." Hmm. Normally I liked Asian names- so exotic!- but not in this case.

"Francis Bonnefoy." I loved my name- it rolled off the tongue like a sweet love poem

"Arthur Kirkland." So English.

"Ivan Braginski." …He has a Polish last name why?...

"Alfred F. Jones, dude!"

"Vat does ze "F" stand for?" I asked.

"FREEDOM!" America yelled, pumping his fist in the air. We all facepalmed, England going so far as to hit his head on the table. If people weren't looking at us strangely before, they certainly were now.

A/N: no translations necessary. I've already bothered you about my other stories... OH YEAH!

Contest news:

Russia's Suitcase: Contest officially closed! Rid3ThatChocob0 is the winner, so please PM me with pairing/rating/plot of the oneshot! Congrats!

*New contest* 50th review gets a oneshot with pairing of choice! (I know, I can't believe this might get to 50 reviews... I'm setting my hopes a bit high... oh well!)

And can I reccommend the songs "Gives You Hell" by The All-American Rejects and "Redlight District" by Porcelain and the Tramps? I've been obsessed with them recently... thankfully not listening to them while writing the chapter, or it'd come out VERY differently!

XOXO, France