Ivan couldn't make pancakes.

In fact, Ivan couldn't cook much at all.

Sure, he had the basics down, and he had a knack for certain Russian meals, but as far as anyone else was concerned, he wasn't that great of a cook..

Still, he was better than England.

"How about we order some food?" Nora offered helpful as Russia searched the freezer and fridge. However, her suggestion was unheard as the large male cried triumphantly, pulling out several bags of frozen perogies.

"Not as good as homemade, da, but will do." He said to himself, moving to find a large pot and fill it with water. He peered into the fridge and muttered to himself before turning to Nora, "You must go. Bu more sour cream. Not enough for all. Must be equal."

Nora giggled nervously, "that sounded like communism." A glare, "okay, I'm going." She frowned a little then left, leaving Ivan alone to cook. As he cooked, he couldn't help but imagine his childhood, when big sister Ukraine would make these from scratch.

"You have to make them with love, Vanya." She told him, folding each pirohzki gently, as if she were tucking a child into bed. "Now you try." But no matter how he tried, his pirohzki just didn't turn out as well as hers did. He turned to look over at little sister Belarus, smiling a little at Natalya as she, too, seemed to have issues. Yekaterina could only giggle, guiding Ivan's hands as she helped him fold. "More like this, Vanya. Gentle. Tuck them in to sleep."

He grinned triumphantly as his next one, though sloppy, managed to resemble the pirohzki "I did it!" He exclaimed happily, only to shudder as a blast of frigid air blew in from the cracks and crevices in their small little home. General Winter was here to stay, it seemed. "Sister, when will it be warm again?" He asked, cuddling in close to Yekaterina. The nation of Ukraine sighed, patting his hair, before getting an idea. She quickly rushed to her room, coming back out with a sunflower and a pale white scarf.

"Here." She said, wrapping the scarf gently around his neck, placing the sunflower in his hands. "I made you this scarf, but I didn't know when to give it to you. Wear this scarf and you'll be protected from the cold. Carry the sunflower in your heart and you'll always be happy."

Russia's hand went to touch his scarf gently before sliding his hand underneath, feeling for the scars around his neck with a shudder, breath catching. He shook his head roughly as he fought off his near panic, tucking in the scarf around the scars. To distract himself he began to sing a Russian folksong, throwing multiple packages of bacon into a large frying pan. He quickly diced up onion, garlic and mushrooms, adding them to the sizzling pan. As he continued to sing, the young child now at his feet began to giggle.

"That's tetris!" Nina exclaimed happily, arms up in the hopes she'd be lifted. Ivan didn't even know that a five year old would know what tetris was.

Ivan chuckled and put this spatula down, lifting the young inuit girl up into his arms as the seal bounced at his feet.

"Well, little one, tetris is Russian, da? Song is Korobushka, old folksong, but used in tetris." He explained back happily, shifting Nina to his side while he stirred the bacon, garlic, mushroom and onion medley. He placed the small inuit girl onto the counter in order to open the bags of perogies, plopping them into the giant pot.

Just then, General Winter breezed into the room, causing Nina to squirm and Russia to shift into a protective, yet fearful, stance.

"No!" Nunavut said firmly, glaring fiercely at the embodiment of winter. Russia turned to stare at the toddler, baffled. What was she doing, saying no to winter? "Go away," she continued, glaring harder, "it's summertime. No winter. Shoo, you're naughty. Bad. Bye bye."

With a scowl and a glance to Russia, General Winter left the kitchen. Shortly after, however, Nunavut began to cry.

Ivan was at a loss, simply allowing Westley to come into the kitchen and cradle the trembling girl. He had never seen somebody stand up to winter, not even his sisters, nor the Nordics. Yet, this little thing could? "He bothers us all," West said to Ivan, rocking the scared territory, "but he bothers Nina the most. Even though she knows how to say no, he still scares her. And hurts her. We try to protect her, since she's the youngest but... ultimately, we all have to deal with him, on our own, without help from another." He sighed.

"Big bully." Nina pouted, nuzzling into her older brother's arms. Ivan reached down and pet the frantic seal before shifting his attention back to the food, his hand reaching up to touch his neck once again absently, jerking it away almost immediately, as if he'd been burnt. He moved the bacon and such to a plate layered in paper towel, shifting some of the floating perogies (pirohzki, he called them, but perogies is what they were called here. 'English speakers', he thought to himself with scorn, 'bastardizing Russian') into the still sizzling pan, not even flinching as the water hissed and popped. Less than a minute later, Nora entered the kitchen, shaking the rain from her hair as she placed the sour cream on the counter.

"It's raining." She stated unnecessarily.

"Da. We see." Russia replied boredly. His eyebrows raised involuntarily as the red haired twins of Newfoundland and Labrador and their dog made their way into the kitchen as well. "это партия или что-то?" ((*Is this a party or something?*)) He muttered to himself in confusion and mild annoyance.

"'Ow's she cuttin' dere, b'y? Smells real good, how long d'ya think it'll take, can't be long now, eh b'y? Oh, n' Liam 'n I were wonderin', least now I think he was wonderin', ya can ne'er tell cause he ne'er talks n' I'm always talkin', but now then, we were wonderin', since ya will be stayin' fer th' entire week – ya will be stayin' the week, right? – whatcha plan'n doin' with us? Do ya have any plans at all, cause if not well then, b'y, yer in trouble. No one in this house can be still long'n ya will need ta come up with somethin' quick now b'y, might I suggest hockey? Somethin' that gets us all riled up n' excited, eh now b'y?" Newfie nudged his brother. ((*I am... not translating that. Sorry. It's hard enough to write, let alone understand.*))

Liam stayed silent.

Ivan blinked. "What?"

Nora rolled her eyes and shook her head, "Lard now, Newf ya got more lip on ya den a coal bucket." She said in amusement, slipping easily into the seemingly other language that was Newfie speak, before turning to Russia, "Newfie said that the food smells good and is wondering what you plan on doing with us for the week," She translated easily, entirely too used to her brother and his inability to properly articulate himself, "he suggested hockey, which," she glared, "is an awful idea, and you know it Newf. Though it'd be fun to see who can out drink who – the maritimers, or Russia? Also, Sergei may or may not have a drink for you to try."

Westley chuckled awkwardly as he put Nina down on the ground, having absolutely no idea what was said between the two maritimers. Though he may have been living with Newfie for many years (though, not as many as you'd think, as Newfoundland only joined Canada in 1949.), due to that he was so far north and effectively separated from the maritime provinces, he never really had to pick up on the cadence of their tongue – a sort of blend between Irish, Scottish and drunk.

Meanwhile, Ivan simply yawned as he flipped the perogies, having lost interest in the drinking competition the moment it was suggested. He already knew that he would win, it was without question. He was Russia, after all, and who could beat a Russian at drinking? Well, maybe the Irish or the Scottish, but even then... "And what drink is that?" He said in a disinterested tone.

"The Sourtoe cocktail," a baritone voice said as the pale haired male in question entered the kitchen.

"серьезно, сейчас, почему так много людей? Я получаю роились." ((*Seriously, now, why so many people? I'm getting swarmed*)) Ivan muttered.

"Извините." ((*Sorry*)) Sergei replied, not seeming sorry at all.

"Anyway, what is Sourtoe cocktail, exactly?"

Before Yukon could speak, however, Nina quickly ran towards Sergei and glomped onto his leg, speaking rapidly to Sergei in a blended mix of Inuktitut, Inuinnaq and Inuinvialuktan, a language that she had learned from Westley and taught Sergei in the hopes of being able to communicate better with him. ((*Inuktitut and Inuvialuk are both recognized Inuit languages, and my understanding is that Inuinnaq is a dialect of Inuvialuktun that is closely related to Inuktitut. They are primarily spoken in Nunavut, NorthWest Territory, a very small portion of the Yukon and small portions of NFL&Labrador and Upper Quebec. A little bit of side knowledge, I actually have a friend who was born and lived up in Nunavut, and could speak Inuktitut. He's not as fluent now, but he still knows some of the words.*))

Sergei chuckled under his breath, his surly, stoic expression softening to one that was almost human in appearance as he picked up Nina, holding her close to him as she nuzzled into his chest. "Anyway." He stated, returning to the topic at hand in a tone that closely matched Russia's own, "The Sourtoe cocktail is a drink, traditionally champagne but any drink will do, where a dehydrated human toe is placed inside. The motto is, 'you can drink it fast, you can drink it slow, but the lips gotta touch the toe'. It started in Dawson, when a Robin Hood in the 1920's -"

"A Robin Hood is the term Americans gave to Canadians who illegally bootlegged alcohol into the states" New Brunswick explained helpfully, earning a deadly glare from Yukon.

"Da, well, when the Robin Hood in the 1920s named Louie Liken stepped in some overflow and his foot got wet. Due to the cold temperatures, his big toe froze, and so to prevent gangrene he and his brother cut off the big toe, getting drunk off rum as an anaesthetic. They kept the toe pickled in a jar of rum. Years later, a man named Captain Dick discovered the pickled toe while cleaning out the cabin the brother bootleggers shared and, after discussing the rules with his friends, started serving it as a drink in 1973 at the Eldorado Hotel in Dawson City. It's a bit of a legend thing." He explained.

Russia's face was one of both disgust and fascination. On the one hand, he couldn't believe that human beings would be so disgusting as to kiss a human toe in a drink. On the other hand, however, he could. It seemed like something a Russian would do.

Sergei chuckled, noticing his reluctance. "Would you want to try it?"

Ivan hesitated once again. On one hand, it was utterly disgusting (coming from a man who once peeled the skin from the bone of his victims, or enucleated them, and so on and so forth, that was real rich) but on the other, was he willing to pass up the challenge? The cocky look in Newfoundland's eyes swayed him and he gave a firm nod, sighing heavily with defeat as he did so. "Da, I will play your little game. Drinking contest." He rolled his eyes in a clear show that this was beneath him, "vodka is requirement."

Newfie grinned, "so is screech."

Sergei raised an eyebrow. Nora swore. Liam, in a rare show of acknowledgement, chuckled under his breath. Nina giggled, not understanding the conversation. Newfie smirked. Ivan looked at him suspiciously.

"What is 'screech'?"

"Mr Russia, your perogies." Nora reminded. Russia swore and quickly flipped the perogies, grimacing slightly at the darker-than-desired bottoms. Oh well, they were still edible at least. He moved them to a plate and put more in the pan, relishing the hiss-sizzle-pop of his childhood memories.

"Screech?" Sergei chuckled, "let's just say it's a famous alcohol drink in Newfoundland." He kissed Nina's forehead, earning him another giggle.

"Strong as hell, is what it is." Nora grumbled in a rare show of annoyance, "lost a bet in a drinking contest to him cause of it. Hell, no one can stand up to the screech. No one except maybe Liam."

Ivan raised an eyebrow but decided to say nothing.

Actually, no.

He changed his mind.

"Aren't you too young to drink?" He frowned, "Matvey said you were teens, da?"

Newfie chuckled, "well, now, b'y... 'teen' is a very..."

"Subjective term." Sergei supplied. Nora and Newfie nodded.

"What we mean is, we're teens in the terms that we're still children compared to dad, but we're all way above drinking age. Except, you know, Nina. And maybe Edward, even though he's old enough, nobody really would believe him, considering how short he is.

Russia chuckled, flipping the perogies again. From the living room, angered voices began to rise, causing Ivan groaned in annoyance and turnto Sergei. "You. Watch pirozhki. I go see little Matveys."

He grunted and put the spatula in Sergei's outstretched palm, glancing around him before pushing his way through the small crowd of people in the kitchen. Upon entering the living room, he saw two women fighting, once again, only this time it was not Ontario and Quebec but Alberta and British Columbia.

"Oh for God's sake! Will you two children grow the fuck up?!" Sarah snapped, trying to force the bickering cowgirl and Asian apart. She seemed almost relieved, as she ran a hand through unmanageable curly blonde hair, to see Ivan. He growled as he grabbed the squabbling provinces, tossing them to a side each while a threatening violet aura enveloped him and a series of kols left his lips.

"What did I say?" Ivan said with feigned cheeriness, "it is time to meet mr pipe, da?"

Hiromi's eyes widened but she chose to refrain from speaking. Alberta wasn't that smart, however, and she let out a screech as Russia pulled out his pipe.

"Oh! A sandiwch?" Ivan blinked, pulling a sandwich out of the end of the pipe, "thought I ate sandwich."

"What the actual fuck?!" Alberta snapped, fists clenched in anger, "what the HELL is wrong with you, you psychotic bastard?! You can't just threaten someone with a fucking pipe! Fuck!"

The aura intensified. Alberta paled, eyes wide with sudden fear. "Wai-wait! II didn't... I didn't mean..."

"Ehm... m-m-m-mister Russia, sir?" Toby said nervously, tugging gently at his coat. Angry violet eyes fell on the meek young man, brightening only a little in his shyness.

"Oh, little Matvey. Now is not a good time. Become one with mother Russia later, da?" He said cheerfully, his grip on his pipe tightening.

"W-w-w-w-what?" Manitoba squeaked, scooting backwards, "n-n-no I-I mean... papa's on th-the phone for-for you." He said, holding out the phone as if it could defend him from Russia's pipe and advances.

Ivan frowned but took the phone, shifting his pipe to his less dominant hand. "Hullo, Matvey. Now is bad timing. Beating cowgirl and mini Japan with mister pipe. Call back later, da?"

"What?!" Matthew said loudly (or at least, loud for him) over the phone. "Non, Vanya! Nyet! Don't beat my children, please! S'il te plait, Russie!"

There was a sigh on the other line, "Don't hurt my children, Russia. Punish them if you must, but no lasting damage. Broken bones, scars, bruises... Aside from the fights, which I assume are Maddie and Tara, and Alberta and Hiromi, how are things?"

Ivan paused, "making pirohzki for food. Mini-me watching. Tiny one fight off general winter. Strong one, little child. Neutral one helping me, fast gibberish one challenge me to drink contest. Idiot. Little Matvey wants to become with mother Russia."

"No I don't!"

"old on, so, Sergei is watching the perogies, Nina fended off General Winter, Nora's been helping you, and Newfie wants to drink with you? You realize you actually have a challenge with him, eh?"

"What is 'screech' Matvey?"

The last few maritimers, Edward and Scott, giggled while Hiromi and the prairie provinces gave him a sympathetic look Tara and Maddie, at this time, were busy playing video games and not paying attention to anything.

Matthew whistled, "Oh dear. Uhm... well, it's rum, essentially. Jamaican rum. The Newfs weren't really all that concerned about the alcohol content, so they made no attempts to temper the taste of it. During world war two, when a large number of American soldiers were stationed in Canada, it received its name. The story goes that the commanding officer was taking advantage of Newfoundland hospitality for the first time and, seeing his host toss back the rum without any issue, he tried the same. The blood curdling screech he made as he tried to regain his breath drew many sympathetic and curious people from miles around as they tried to both assist the man and figure out what was going on. Among the first to arrive was a garrulous old American sergeant who pounded on the door and demanded "What the cripes was that ungodly screech?" The Newf who had answered the door replied simply, "The screech?" 'Tis the rum, me son." And the legend was born. For the most part the rum, which was 40% alcohol, was dulled back and flavoured, but even now it's still strong as hell. Newfie, though, uses the original style. "

Ivan paused as he listened to the story, taking it all in, "so, screech is 40% alcoholic rum?" He paused, then snickered, "weak America."

"Russia! The perogies are ready!"

"Da!" He called back, returning to the phone, "I must go now, Matvey. I will not beat little Matveys. Yet." He said, a warning in hi voice. He hung up quickly and gave the phone back to Toby before waling back to the kitchen. He nodded in thanks to Sergei before serving up fourteen even helpings of perogies with bacon, onion, garlic, mushroom and sour cream. He took it to the dining room, surprised to find a dining table worthy of the tsar, a long table large enough to seat all fourteen of them, and have room for two more. With the help of Sergei, Westley, Nora and Newfie, they managed to set the table in record time.

"Food!" Nora yelled out into the living room. She quickly moved to the side as what could be described as a stampede rushed towards her. Ivan quickly too his seat at the head of the table and watched as everyone stormed in, noting who stuck with who.

The northern territories, being as they were all there anyways, were the first three to sit down. There was a a brief staredown as Nina and Sergei both wanted next to Russia – Sergei for territorial proximity (actually, he just wanted to talk about Alaska to the Russian giant quietly) and Nina because she felt comfortable with the older male. In the end, Yukon Territory conceeded to defeat and allowed the Nina the seat with a sigh. The happy little child gave a grin and a wave towards Ivan while Sergei offered a brief nod, taking the seat next to the youngest territory. After a moment's hesitation, he undid his scarf and jacket hanging them both behind him on the chair. In a gesture of self-consciousness, he plucked at invisible hair on his white button down shirt. He folded up the long sleeves to his elbows, revealing tanned and scarred arms, evidence as his many years as a miner in the frozen north. Sergei nudged Nina and she nodded, pulling down her fur hood and undoing the buttons of her jacket, putting it on the back of her chair. She wore a navy blue dress, a white ribbon tied around her waist, beneath the winter clothes. Westley took the final seat beside Sergei, giving him a slight glare as he, too, pulled off his winter wear.

"What." Sergei said with a bored expression, fiddling with the buttons on his collar.

"You stole my seat. I'm supposed to sit beside Nunavut."

"There is no assigned seating. Your position on a map means nothing."

"She's my baby sister, Serge! She came from my territory!"

Nina whined. "No fight or mister pipe!"

Next came the maritimers. Before anyone could object, Nora took the seat on the right of Russia, smiling at him uneasily. Scott looked over at his twin sister and stuck his tongue out, pushing the micro-province between him and her. Edward looked at Scott in confusion but decided to leave it alone, sitting between Nora and Scott anyways. Newfie sat beside Scott and started to chatter his ear off as Liam took the seat next to Newfoundland. Alberta, cowboy hat and all, was the next to take her seat beside West, giving him a quick nod and a tip of the hat. Sarah scooped the hat off her head and placed it on the back of her chair.

"It's impolite to wear a hat at the dinner table, Bird."

"Bite me, Sasquatch." Alberta grumbled. Hiromi, taking her seat on the opposite side of Saskatchewan, giggled. Quietly, she placed her rock underneath her chair, patting the top of it once gently before taking a look around the room, smiling as she watched her family. Although they bickered a lot, and they really did, they were a really close family and meant everything to her. It made her sad, sometimes, that they had their specific groupings – the Territories, the Maritimes, The "Center of the Universe" and the Prairies, with BC and Manitoba on the outer-skirts of these Prairies, barely a part of the group but managing to count anyways. It hurt, sometimes, that they weren't all as close together emotionally. She'd seen the way America's children acted around each other, and though they had their separate groupings themselves, they were a lot closer than their Canadian cousins (though, in her mind, Alaska didn't really count as their cousin, neither did Hawaii – simply because of how far removed they were from America). Of course, it made sense and was almost to be expected. Though there was a small number of children in their family, in comparison, they were also a lot bigger and farther apart. They all had their own privacy. Even the groupings weren't as close as they may have liked to be.

"H-Hey now..." Manitoba stammered, looking at his sister nervously as he hugged his bear. He received a warning glare from the large Russian at the head of the table and squeaked, putting his bear down quickly. "S-Sorry Winnie... I-I'll feed you l-later, eh?"

"Hm? Anata wa watashi ni hanashite ita? Nanite itta no?"("Were you speaking to me? What did you say?") Hiromi asked, dark brown eyes calmly gazing into the honey-amber eyes of the male beside her. Said honey-eyed boy blinked in confusion, not understanding a single word that was said.

"Uhhhh... y-yeah?" He tried helplessly. A smile told him it was close enough, and alright for him to continue, "A-Anyways... you looked so sad... so... you know, it's not so bad. B-Before you know it... Dad will be home and.. and Russia will go home, and everything will be back to normal, s-so just hold on for n-now... kay?" Toby smiled nervously, clutching at his grey tee shirt anxiously. Hiromi smiled at him and reached over, gently running her fingers through his hair.

"Ahh... Sumimasen, niichan, but that is not what I was thinking about." She giggled. It was odd, how people would assume that, because of her wise nature, she was the older but, in fact, Manitoba had joined confederation a full year (and five days) before she had.

Toby blushed, embarrassed. "O-Oh..."

"I was just thinking," Hiromi murmured, looking at the table again, "that... even though we're a family we don't really act like it... we aren't as close as I'd like to be."

Though her voice was quiet, it was not too quiet for Russia to overhear and though he felt the urge to smash the mini-Canada for wishing to be rid of him so soon, he couldn't help but feel almost sympathetic for the province of British Columbia; He, too, understood the feeling, the longing for the closeness of family. He was about to speak, only to be interrupted once more by the bickering provinces of Ontario and Quebec, who seemed to think they were the center of the universe.

"I'm telling you, you stupid frog, it should have been Yo- Toronto! I mean, it's the business capital of Canada! It's so much better than your stupid.. what is it? That royal mountain thing."

"Montréal, you stupide idiot! Mon dieu, 'ow does Papa deal wit' you, Je ne sais pas!"

"Hey! I was going to sit there! Who says you can sit at the head of the table! Why do I have to sit next to Liam?! He never talks!"

Newfie scowled and turned to tell the loud province off, only this time he was the one cut off.

"Shut up! All of you, just sit down and shut up! Why do you all insist on bickering! Jesus Murphy and his cat, you're all a bunch of fucking babies!" Nora snapped, standing up in her seat to make her point (because, really, she was only 5'3 and didn't make much of an impression unless she did so). Tara and Maddie stared at her in shock, unused to seeing such an abrasive side to the normally calm nation. Hiromi's eyes darkened in understanding while Toby cowered in fear and Sergei smirked satisfactorily. Nina began to cry.

"R-Ru-Russiaaaaa! Nora said a bad word!"

"I mean, for god's sake, you guys! What did dad say before he left, hm?! Be on your best behaviour. Monsieur Russie is a guest in our home, and this is how we greet him? Whatever happened to the famed Canadian politeness? Do you really want to be viewed as mini-Americas? Really?"

Maddie bit her lip, properly scolded. "You're right... desolé"

"Y-Yeah.. what the fr – " A glare was shot the blonde's way and she blushed, quickly altering her words, "What Maddie said. Sorry."

"'Ere, Tara, you can 'ave ze seat"

"No, no, it's okay, you take it"

"Non, I insist, you take ze seat."

"Madeleine, it would re –"

"Oh for the love of god, will you just sit the hell down, before New Brunswick has an aneurism?" Sarah said sharply. Tara took the seat at the head of the table, while Madeleine took the one beside Liam. Nora sighed in relief.

"Now, we're going to be good, respectful people, and enjoy this nice family meal with our guest Russia, am I understood?"

Aside from the odd conversation here and there (and Maddie flirting with Liam while he looked at his twin brother helplessly), barely a word was said that meal.

Holy crap, that took forever, I'm sorry. I had no idea how the hell to end this chapter, so here you go! 11 pages long, 4667 (which, for you math nerds, is 4 and 2/3 thousand) words and I'm finally done. Now to try and figure out what to do with Quiet Annexation -sob- So, I'm thinking I might make this story come before QANSC, but it would require me to go back and fix everything. I might just make them their own story lines, but have them both have the children/teens anyways. There's also a sad little one shot I have called "By The Light of the Moon" and I may turn it into a full story (Everytime I listen to the Vocaloid song "Insanity", it makes me want to more) so yeah, keep an eye out for that. Also, the Vocaloids make it surprisingly easy to write. Anyways.

Ciao for now, and remember, Nina loves you and wants you to review!

ClairdelaLuna~