A/N; Ok, I'm a bad, bad otaku. I've been procrastinating all of my President's Day vacation. Well, not really. I had ballroom dance lessons for the first time and my feet are killing me. Hair cut, re-did my hightlight. (Yes, i only have one big, blond highlight on the right-side of my hair. Had it since foruth grade.) and my nails. Don't usually do that kind of stuff. Also, I've been trying to better my characters with accents, catch-phrases, actions, the whole nine-miles package, etc. Sooo... I did a few updates to some or the chapters. Althought! Nothing you really need to go back to re-read. Just inserted accents. Sorry for the chapter. I'm trying, but it's jsut sooo hard to right THAT much in one go. But! I'm trying. So, yah. Also please give me any tips or suggestions to better the story and/or the characters. I'll try to get the chapters out faster. I should shut up now. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I hate this part cause it always remindes me that I don't own Hetalia. Not even stuff besides the first volume of the comics. Want a England and Prussia plushie. And Season 1 and 2 DVD...

Sneaking in wasn't so hard but finding the girl was. The two had already searched the first floor and almost been caught by America who was trying to force-feed England a hamburger. France had parted ways with them and went into the kitchen. They had continued down the long hallway and found stairs at the end of it. Prussia and Spain tried to lay low, but it was hard with the creaky, old steps. When they reached the second floor, the duo sighed in frustration not because there was another long hallway – because that this hallway had even more rooms. Giving a ready nod to each other, they began opening doors. Not the billiards room, not the gaming room. Prussia and Spain keep opening doors until they heard a person sighing from one of the rooms that were situated at the end of hallway. Gilbert gave Antonio a look, Antonio gave Gilbert a look. They slowly crept up to a white door.

"Kesese! The awvsome-me vhill open it." Prussia announced quietly.

He reached for the door knob and pushed it open gingerly. Inside there was the girl with the blond streak putting an aged blouse. She took the pile of clothes that were on the bed and walked off into another room on the left. Prussia went in first and then Spain. The room was shockingly neat and modern. The style was so different from the rest of the house. They followed the girl and saw what she had walked into was the bathroom. Prussia hid next to the door frame of the bathroom and Spain hid behind the the right side of the bed. The girl walked back out and yawned.

"Huff, that's finally finished. I should probably go downstairs but I want to finish that sketch."

She walked over to the coffee table and took the sketch pad she had placed there earlier. What she didn't notice was Prussia walking over quietly. Suddenly he clasped a hand over her mouth and grabbed her hands. A muffled scream came from the young girl and she began to kick. Spain popped out from behind the bed and she stopped. Her eyes widened in shock. She tried to turn her head to get a look at her captor but Gilbert wouldn't allow it and kept her head in place.

They had nothing to tie her up with so they started to search the room. Spain flung open the closet door and began rummaging. He found a lime green scarf folded neatly on a rack and took it. He needed another thing to tie her hands with but the search was an fruitless effort. So he took off his shirt and revealed tanned, muscular, Spanish man. Gilbert felt his hand become warm and looked at the girl. She was just staring at Antonio and her face was red as one of Romano's tomatoes. He chuckled; Kesesesese. She's obviously a virgin.

Prussia took his friend's shirt and tied the child's hands together while Spain covered her mouth with the scarf. She began to yell but the scarf muffled her words very nicely. It was like she wasn't even talking - you could barely hear her. Antonio then took a random jacket out of the girl's closet and put it on. Suprisingly, it fit. Thank goodness it was oversized like most of the othe stuff she seemed to have.

"Vy didn't you just take one of her shirts?" Gilbert questioned, curiously.

Spain protested that 'they were to kidnap her, not destroy her things'. Prussia didn't say anything else, slung the girl over his shoulder like a bag and the two proceed downstairs with their new prisoner.

SMT

England couldn't take it anymore. Alfred was clinging to his right arm and trying to shove a hamburger into his mouth claiming that 'it's good for you because it's made by him the hero'. Arthur shook his arms, freeing himself from the hyperactive strawberry blond. He pushed America and got up from the couch.

"Iggy! Please just tr-" Alfred managed to wedge into the argument before getting cut off. He scuttled over the couch's armrest and hopped off. But before he could get any further, Arthur held up a hand signaling stop.

"No."

"Arthur come on! Please ju-"

"NO. I will not eat that bloody heart attack on a bun."

Alfred gave a hurt look and retaliated in slight anger. "Heart attack on a bun! Hamburgers are not heart attacks on buns!"

England sighed and gave America a sarcastic look. "You're right. They're hypertension on buns."

Alfred crossed his arms and furrowed his brows. Sitting back down on the cream colored love seat, he began to pout. Arthur scowled and walked into the kitchen. One of these days he's going to get a heart attack from all those burgers he engulfs at every minute of the day. Where the hell did he get his horrible taste for food? He walked up to the fridge too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice that he wasn't the only one there.

"Bonjour Angleterre." A soft voice purred.

Arthur turned around, his face bent in anger. What he saw was something worst than America's horrible slop – France. The french-man was seated on top of the granite counter-top, one leg crossed over the other and his right hand holding a small rose."What are you doing here you wanker!"

France gave a frown but then smiled again as usual. "Come now, mon Angleterre. I'm a juste 'ere to see you." Francis hopped off the counter and began walking toward Arthur as the latter began to inch away. "What the bloody hell do you want, frog?" Arthur raised his voice two octaves. France was starting to get close as the wall was.

"Oh~ You 'urt me so. Are you not 'appy to see me, cher?"

"No! I'm not happy to see you, you Gaul!" Arthur hissed with a scowl engraved on his face. At that moment Alfred burst through the kitchen door almost breaking the door off it's hinges.

"What the hell is-!" America started but shut up when he saw France.

Merde. He had been so close. That stupide Amérique. Why couldn't America just stay out of the way. He always had to take England. Because having Canada close to him just wasn't enough.

"Bonjour, Amérique." Francis said with venom in his voice. America walked up to France and glared at him. He wasn't suppose to be here. The next meeting wasn't for another two weeks at the end of the month. "Why's Frenchie here, Iggy?"

"I'm looking for mon Angleterre. And looks like I have found 'im."

"Wasn't talking to you. You're not needed here anyways. Go home." Alfred put his hands on his hips and gave his fellow French a stare that could rival with the tension of the Cold War.

France returned the look but fliched when Alfred started cracking all the joints he had.

"So Frog-butt? What's it gonna be?"

France scowled and stepped back. "Bon. I will take my leave. But not without some souvenirs."

America and England both gave France a confused look. France on the other hand, grabbed England's hand and pulled him forward. Alfred tried to grab Arthur's hand but missed. And before the two of them knew it, France had trapped England in a deep kiss. Arthur started to pound on Francis's chest while America could not believe what he was witnessing. France finally released England and left the poor Brit panting mercilessly, red faced. France then, spoke up again. "That was the first souvenir. The second one should be with mes amis. We will be borrowing 'er for un peu de temps."

And with that France causally walked out of America's kitchen without another word. America glared daggers at the man's back before coming to England's aid. Arthur had stopped panting but his rage had grew three-fold.

Alfred grabbed England by the shoulders and lightly shook him. "Dude! Are you alright?"

England hissed in response. "Does it look like I'm all right you twit! That unshaven, bloody frog! I'll curse him!"

America took a few steps back and put his hands in front of him; "Okay, okay dude. No need to be hatin' on me." Alfred cocked his head to the side and continued, "And what does France mean 'We will be borrowing her for un peu de temps?"

Arthur pondered for a minute. We will be borrowing her for un... peu... de... His thoughts came to a sudden stop when he realized what the french nation had been hinting towards. "THE GIRL!" he screached in horror as he pushed America out of the way and rushed out of the kitchen.

"The girl?" America said confused. "What girl..." His eyes widened and he too fled out the kitchen after the English-man. The two made their way down the hallway and up the old stairs before running down the second hallway. England reached the girl's chosen room and flung the door open. It was totally disheveled. The closet was open and messy as if someone had briskly looked through it for something, the light on the coffee table was still on, the bed sheets were on the floor and so was her sketch pad. Alfred came rushing in and stopped at the site of the room.

"...Wow. What...a mess."

It wasn't before long that he was pushed aside again by Arthur who then stormed out of the room. America followed, calling after the Brit; "Dude! Arthur! Where ya goin'!"

England stopped and turned to face Alfred. With anger and determination, he said; "We're going to get her back. But not without some help first." And with that, Arthur took off down the hallway – Alfred trailing close behind.

MWH

France proudly walked out of America's kitchen, happy about the kiss he stole. He saw Spain and Prussia coming down the hallway with the girl hanging off of the German's shoulder all gagged and tied up. He didn't say anything about Spain's new jacket, not really caring at the moment about his friend's fashion choices.

"Bon work, mes amis." He said with a smile on his bearded face. The girl was kicking weakly on Prussia's back. Francis went around his friend in order to see the girl. She lifted her head to see her captors leader. Slowly, tears ran down her face went she saw who it was. A small force pulled on the French's heart but he forced it away, thinking it was just his age finally taking a hit off him. The three fled out of the house and hailed for a taxi. The taxi driver didn't say anything and only took their directions to the hotel that was reserved for all the nations, but it was evident that he was scared. Antonio got in first, Gilbert got in second – pulling the girl with him and France got in last. The trip was going to be an hour and not two minutes ago had she fallen asleep in Gilbert's lap – Gilbert not so approving of it.

"Oi! Vhake up, girly! Your not allowed to take a nap on the awvsome-me." He whispered, lightly slapping her cheek. She refused to wake up and only snuggled closer into his lap causing the latter to lightly blush.

"Leave 'er alone, Gilbert. She will need all 'er energy for what eez to come." France said with a small smile. Antonio looked at her closely and commented as well.

"You know, she has the same color hair as mi Romano~" he squealed, the thought of South Italy just making him golden happy. Prussia scoffed and gave a mocking grin; "Und she fights like Österreich!"

All three laughed, making the driver more uncomfortable. The rest of drive was spent in a thick silence and when they got to the hotel, the child still wouldn't wake up, so Prussia had to carry her bridal-style. They tipped the driver a twenty and walked into the five-star hotel that was nestled between Central Park and Broadway. The entrance was a lovely gold and red, totally worthy of it's reknowned reputation. The doorman let them into the barren lobby, but this didn't worry the trio. The last meeting had been only for European nations since the subject had been North American-European trade relations. In a week every nation would have to come for a U.N. Conference, and knowing that, America had rented the whole hotel for one month. Although, about now everyone was out exploring the ever-changing New York City night-life. They came to a magnificent, carved, gold painted set of doors that belonged to the elevator. France looked up to see the words 'This Car Available' scribed on top of the doors. Antonio pressed the 'up' button causing the doors to open. They got in and waited for the machine to stop at the fourth floor.

France's room was 473 – a Manhattan suite. The walls were honey-toned and deep red velvet covered most of the furniture. In front of the white queen-sized bed was a oak desk with a flat-screen T.V. next to it and across the room near the large bay window was a slightly long, mahogany lounge. Gilbert tried to get her to sit upright on the bed as France pulled off her short, ankle height boots. When that was all done and said, France placed them near the entrance while Prussia laid the child down. Spain ran in and claimed the lounge chair making Gilbert resort to the swivel chair near the desk. Francis sat down on the bed next to the girl and started to undo the gag. She took a deep breath and snuggled deeper into the bed.

Prussia pulled out his phone and began to play a game; "Vell, all there is now is to vait for her to finally vake up."

MWH

Lithuania walked into the room dressed in his usual green apron with a tray of hot cocoa. Estonia was seated on the couch, typing a speech on his newly bought laptop. The U.N. Conference would be in one week and it was up to him along with some of the other countries to type up speech on airport security. Latvia was cleaning the dishes from their previous meal.

"Estonia," Toris stared; "Would you like some-"

That's when the bell rung. But who would be here at this time, especially when there was a world meeting in less than seven days?

"Latvia~ Let me in, da?" A childish voice sung from the front porch. Latvia started to cry in the kitchen and Estonia just shook his head. "Why would Mr. Russia be here?" he questioned, tiredly. Eduard got up from his comfy seat and made his way to the door. He was greeted by a creepy smile on a large Russian man.

"Good Afternoon Mr. Russia. Vhat brings you here?" He started the conversation, but only to be cut off by a gloved hand in front of him.

"I vould to speak to Latvia. May I come in, Estonia?" Russia spoke in a very civil manner, catching the attention of all three Baltic nations. Estonia let him, his arm showing the way to the couch where he once sat. Ivan took a seat near his fellow nation and waited.

"Latvia~ Vhere are you? I vant to ask you something, da?"

From the kitchen came a trembling little boy, Latvia. He was in an apron that had his nation's flag on it and his already short hair was tied back. He came and sat down across from Russia in a armchair that was too big for him.

"Y-y-yes, M-mr. R-russia?" He shook in fear and it was evident in his voice. The boy's hand fiddled with the hem of the apron and he didn't dare make eye contact.

"Latvia~Your so small and cute in that apron." The Russian nation cooed. This stunned Estonia and Lithuania while a huge blush slowly faded onto Latvia.

"T-t-thank y-you Mr. R-russia." the small nation stuttered. Eduard sighed, Russia wasn't going to make this easy for them, was he?

Ivan crossed his legs and clasped his hands together making his finger intertwine. He then spoke in a very flat, and disturbing tone, "Latvia," he began, "You know vhere my sunflowers are, da?"

Raivis began to tremble all over again. Lithuania didn't know what to do, being stuck between Russia and Latvia. Sure, Russia wasn't in control of him or his country anymore, but that didn't mean he wasn't as scary as he was back then. He snapped back from his thoughts when his fellow nation gave an almost inaudible squeak.

Russia kept his neutral façade and told Latvia to repeat his answer. The boy spoke up one more but not by much.

"I-i-i s-said t-t-that B-belar-rus t-took them a-a-a-after t-the meeting..." Raivis stuttered all over again.

Russia gave a small hint of horror on his face before restraining it. If what his absolutely small and scrawny neighbor just said was correct, he would have to go to the one person he feared more than anyone on this whole earth; his sister - Belarus. And that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Translations; Are there translations! Holy crap, where have I been?

[Bonjour] Good day. (Really?)

[Merde] Shit.

[Un peu de temps] A little time.

[Osterreich] Austria.

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