Hiya! No cute introductions, very tired lol and going out tomorrow night! Yay! Enjoy today's chapter; Northern Ireland is up to her usual scheming! Enjoy!

Thank-you so, so, so much for your reviews. They make my boring and dull day! Thank you to EmeraldHeart12, InvaderPey and summeranderson. I am your humble servant XD

Forty: Boyfriend

"What is wrong with you today?" England cried, unable to hide his irritation any longer.

Northern Ireland seemed unfazed; however, her mood just as sulky and listless as it had been since England had sat down beside her at the conference meeting at his house nearly five hours ago.

England had first thought he must be imagining things—Northern Ireland was hardly ever in a bad mood. Then he thought he definitely wasn't imagining things, but it was probably something trivial, so he'd attempted to take Emily's mind off of whatever it was by ordering some food and tea for them. But she was unresponsive, ignoring the plate of bacon and eggs sat in front of her, letting endless cups of Earl Grey go cold. More and more uneasy, England had set to the task of bringing up every different topic of conversation he could think of: sports (bad idea; Northern Ireland was still pissed at the fact that her pride and joy, Rory McIlroy, didn't do too well at Augusta last week, she didn't need reminding), politics, religion, the latest hit TV show, pop group, and West-End musical. Nothing elicited more than a grunt of agreement or an unconcealed sigh.

"Nothing," Northern Ireland murmured, her eyes peering sadly at the tile floor.

"Oh, please. You've been moping around like some poor lost soul all afternoon. You're never like this. What's going on?"

"You don't want to know."

England rolled his eyes. "You're my little sister," he mumbled with that feeling of unease that came with any confession of fondness, "of course I want to know."

"It's a boy problem."

"Never mind, you were right. I'm sure you can work it out on your own."

"I want a boyfriend."

England groaned. He should have known that being nosy would inevitably lead to talking about boy problems. And he hated talking about boy problems.

"Oh, please." The sarcasm couldn't be helped. Sure, Northern Ireland had only ever had one boyfriend since they'd been siblings (who England was sure she was still with), but that was due to a lack of effort on Northern Ireland's part, nothing more.

"Is that really what's been bothering you all day? For God's sake, Northern Ireland, if you want a boyfriend, go get one."

"You say it like it's so easy."

"It is easy. You pick a boy you like, let him buy you dinner a few times, and voila, you have a boyfriend. There. Problem solved, next question."

Northern Ireland sighed and folded her arms on the table, resting her head on them and pouting. "But how do I find one I like?"

"You just pick one. If it turns out you don't like him after all, you break up and try again. This is dating, not rocket science. Now cut out the whining and the excuses. If you really want a boyfriend, you can get one."

But Northern Ireland did not perk up or nod or even put up further argument, just huffed and pouted some more.

"Fine, I'll help you," England said with the utmost irritation and spun around on his chair to survey the large conference room.

A handful of nations were loitering by the windows, smoking (his brothers), Italy and Germany were sharing a banana split at the other end of the conference table, much to Germany's embarrassment and just opposite them five seats were taken up by five nations that were all too familiar. England smirked. All single, all good-looking and France and Prussia undoubtedly had crushes on Northern Ireland anyway. "There," he said, pointing. "Five available nations. Pick one."

Northern Ireland creased her forehead and peered at the chattering nations. "The bad touch trio, America and Japan?"

"Sure, why not? They're nice and fun to be with and you already know them, right? What else do you want?"

And to his complete astonishment, Northern Ireland looked as though she might actually be considering it. In fact, after a moment of contemplation, Northern Ireland even looked pleased by the idea. And it was then that England began to wonder if maybe this was a very bad idea after all.

"But then again, they are the bad touch trio, they didn't get that name for nothing and Japan gets really uncomfortable with feelings and closeness—"

"No, no, you're right. How come I never thought about it before?"

Well, at least the sulking and pouting was done with.

"So just flirt with him and he'll ask me out to dinner, you think?"

England rolled his eyes. "That's all."

"Do you think he'll mind if I do it in front of his friends?"

"No."

"Okay, I'm going. Wish me luck."

"Whatever."

He watched as Northern Ireland dragged a hand threw her brown locks—with conviction—and walked out toward the nations. Shaking his head, England leaned back on his elbows, wondering which one his sister would choose. He figured France was the most likely, as he was such an excellent cook, but Spain stood a good chance too as he was so upbeat and happy.

"Hi guys!" she greeted and was met with a round of cheery hellos. "Hey, um… America, I was wondering if I could ask you something."

England blanched and tumbled off his chair with a startled yelp. Northern Ireland and the other nations turned to him in surprise as he fumbled to climb back onto the seat.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine! I'm fine!" Inhaling a breath to steady himself, England glanced at America who was watching him with equal parts concern and mocking. He took a moment to give him his best unhappy glower, before strutting toward them, grabbing Northern Ireland harshly by the arm, and dragging her back to the other side of the conference table, loudly proclaiming, "I just remembered I have something very important to discuss with you!"

"What are you doing?" the young nation hissed once they were out of earshot of the guys. "I was just going to—"

"No! He is off limits!"

Northern Ireland blinked, then straightened her back and quirked an eyebrow. "And why is that?" she drawled as if she had almost been waiting for this moment.

"It doesn't matter, he just is! And besides, I… I…" England resigned himself. "I know loads of other countries way more attractive than that i-idiot. If you want a boyfriend that bad, I'm sure I can acquaint you with a few less well-known nations."

At first Northern Ireland said nothing and England found his anxiety growing with every silent moment, strangely terrified that Northern Ireland might be really set on America. But then his sister shrugged and smiled—albeit teasingly. "It's grand, I like France better anyway," she said, and moved back toward her seat and pulled out a book, leaving England to release a huge breath of relief.

"By the way…" England swung around to see his sibling watching him with a proud grin. "…you totally walked right into that one."

Yeoooo! Caught out England; scundered! Review! Thanks, LucyMoon1992 x