Chapter 1

Warnings: Swearing, Suggestive Material

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I dont own Hetalia!

Thanks to: pastacat, Dogsrule, and Jellywolf, and all the other countless people who read!

France moaned and turned over in his sleep. He was dreaming about England again, and he hardly realized he was on the ground. He sat up and yawned. Why was he on the floor? He remebered going to sleep in his large bed...France groaned. His head felt like it had been hit with a brick. He recognized the feeling as being hung over. "Oh...damn..." He stumbled and fell. He noticed he was wearing a green uniform much like Englands.

France frowned and looked in the mirror. He saw England's reflection. "Oh cher..." He mumbled running his hand through the short hair. "I look horrible!" He muttered then looked around, and smiled. He started to unbutton his shirt. A cellphone in Englands pocket rang scaring France. "B-bonjour?" He said. "You better not even look at my body!" England screamed into France's ear. "Oh, Mon cher! I would never do zuch a thing!" France lied. How the hell did he know? France screamed in his head.

"Sure...we need to meet up..." England frowned. "Wait...the UN meeting...its in your country isnt it?" France asked. England realized that. "Its today..." "Monsieur Francis!" England nearly dropped the phone when someone knocked on his door. "L'avion est prêt." England furrowed his brow. What did he say? "O-oui!" England replied in his best France impersonation. He heard footsteps walk away and he let out a long shaky breath. "What does 'L'avion est prêt' mean?" England asked France as he got dressed in Frances clothes. "The plane iz ready." France translated. "I see..." England frowned. "Francis...were are your..." England shivered. "Underwear?" France laughed on the other line. "Mon Cher, I find having to wear underwear inconvient, I mean what if I have to take them off quickly for a quick act of s-." "AGH! No enough!" England wanted to barf.

He finished dressing, without underwear on and took note of some French to use to get by until meeting up with France at the meeting. France as promised, did not take advantage of being in Englands body, although the temptation was very strong and made his way to the meeting hall to meet everyone.

America woke up...cold. He tried to snuggle down in the bed more and he realized it wasnt the outside of the bed that was cold...rather himself. His skin was cold...He opened his eyes and looked around. He realized he was in a hotel room. Thats right the meeting in England...he layed back down when a book caught his eye. Библия...America didnt need to know what it said to know what launguage it was. That commie bastards Russian...

America jumped up and then saw his reflection in the mirror. Tall, musciler, sandy blond hair, and violet eyes. America stared shocked. What the hell had happened? He blinked his eyes. He was in a pair of boxers and a beige scarf. The creepy dude even wears it to bed? America frowned. He found Russia's clothes and put them on. He felt weird but felt even more weird almost naked.

America wondered if this had this had something to do with one of Englands spells? Why would he make them change?

Germany sighed and blinked his eyes open. He sat up and groaned. He looked over to see a blond man...wait no that was him. "Was zum Teufel?" He hollered and 'himself' opened his eyes and hollered back at him. "Cosa ... cosa ... COSA?" He screamed in Italian. "Italy?" Germany asked. "G-germany...what are you doing in my body?" Italy sniffed. Germany looked down and sure enough he was the small Italian. "What happened?" Germany asked but Italy was hugging, which was a problem as Italy was the large german, and did not control his streagth. "It-aly..." He gasped for air. "I cant breath!" Italy let go and gasped. "Im so sorry Germany!"

"Ja...we need to find out what happened...perhaps England would know something." Germany got up in the hotel room, and found some clothes. He frowned and looked at his body being controlled by the Italian. He was struggling with the Germans clothes but eventually he managed to get them on and Germany and him left for the meeting.

Russia stared at his body. Had the vodka finally got him so drunk he was hallucinating? Why the hell did he look like America? Russia ran a hand down the American's chest, across the muscles. "Hmmm..." Russia was lost in thought then he heard an alarm go off. It was telling him to get to the meeting. What was he supposed to do? "I'llgo like this da~!" Russia smiled and got dressed.

Thanks for reading! More countrys next time, and a meeting! Please comment, this story rating might go up in later chapters sorry