This chapter was inspired by the song 'That's Not My Name' by The Ting Tings. It was requested by a couple of people, for obvious reasons, but I seem to have misplaced their names. If you requested this song, in a review or 'ask' or personal message, please raise your hand and I'll change the shout out. My bad. I'm rather surprised it took me so long to get around to this one.

Edit: TacoBunneh has stepped forward! All hail TacoBunneh! (I know that there were other requests for this song, so please send up a flag!)

That's Not My Name

"Hey, you."

"Yeah, you, in the corner."

"Hey, hey, America! Come here!"

Canada flinched and set his briefcase down a little harder than strictly necessary. He flopped into his seat and ground his teeth in irritation, gnawing on his bottom lip in the process. It was ridiculous, of course. Utterly ridiculous. Sure, he looked like his brother, or maybe America looked like him, but that was no excuse after one hundred and fifty years. Or more. Hell, some of the nations had known them since 1000AD. Ridiculous.

He snapped open the briefcase and threw a pile of file folders onto the conference table. He pulled out a pen and tried not to break it in half. Ugh.

"Hey, America, what do you think…?"

Canada tightened his grip on this pen and felt it crack between his fingers. Fuck.

"My name…" He pushed the words through his clenched teeth. "My name is Canada."

The nation blinked and studied him closer, swooping into his personal space.

"Huh. So it is. Never mind, then."

They walked away without a backwards glance and he bit his tongue to keep from screaming. He was not asking for the moon and the stars, really. He just wanted a bit of respect, common courtesy and acknowledgment. Was that so much to ask? Evidently, it was.

He had even tried wearing name tags in the past, or his flag. It never seemed to help.

"America, I looked over that proposition you sent me and…"

"America, I wanted to talk to you about…"

"America, America, America…"

He slammed his pen down into the table, imbedding the tip and then some into the varnished wood. The metal and plastic shattered in his grip, digging into his palm and drawing blood. It dripped onto the table as he sucked in short, controlled breaths.

His eyes stung with tears of frustration.

"Uh… Canada, you're kind of, uh, bleeding. Like, all over the place."

"My name," he snarled, "is not…! Wait, what?!"

"You're bleeding. Everywhere."

"No, before that!"

"Erhm…"

"Say my name!"

"… Canada?" Prussia sat down beside him and pried his fingers from the splintered pen. His hands were surprisingly gentle for someone so seemingly coarse and crass. He cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. "Are you alright? Oh, man, look at this. You fucking wrecked it. Hardcore."

He shifted his palm and plucked at the pieces of plastic with blunt, calloused fingertips.

"… You know my name," Canada whispered in awe, flinching as he pulled out a particularly sharp piece. Ouch. Prussia glanced up as he grasped another fragment and tugged.

"Uh, yeah. Duh."

"How…? Since when…?"

"Since you were a motherfucking colony, asshole. What do you mean 'since when'? I used to babysit you. Dicknuts."

"No, I mean… Really?" He stopped, started, and stopped again. He shook his head. His blonde curls bounced with the motion. "No, wait, it's just that no one else can remember my name. And they, uh, they keep confusing me with my brother. All the time."

"Well, everyone else is an idiot. Obviously."

He removed the last piece with a slap and a cackle and held it up for Canada to see, jagged and splintered. His palm stitched itself back together.

"But not you…"

"Not me."

Prussia cradled his hand in his own and raised it to his lips. He kissed his palm and wiggled his eyebrows. Canada blushed.

Then he dragged his tongue through the blood and he blushed harder.

"I, erhm, ah… That's sort of, ah, gross…" He mumbled, looking anywhere but at Prussia. He felt the other nation smile, a slow stretch of lips and scrape of teeth against his palm. There was something dangerous about him, true, but there was also something… Alluring…

He was attractive, in a gaunt, feral way, and almost charming. And the bastard knew it too.

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Well, we have meetings until…"

"After the conference," he interrupted him with a soft nip.

"I was just going to… I'm not… It's not…"

"You should go out with me. Tonight. Just you and me."

"Like, on a…"

"Yeah, a date. I'm asking you out on a date. Go out with me."

Canada blinked, dumbfounded.

"But I've never even…"

"Look, you're lonely; I'm lon… Available. I'm available. So let's go out. I'll show you a good time; I'll show you a great time. I'll make you laugh. So, no more tears, okay?" He reached forward with his free hand and brushed at his tears of frustration. Canada hiccupped. "C'mon, say 'yes'."

"… Yes?"

Prussia whooped, kissing his cheek and leaving a smear. He looked relieved.

"He said 'yes'! Canada said 'yes'! Ha!" Prussia shouted, laughing. The other nations stared as Prussia scooped Canada up and started spinning him in circles. His enthusiasm was endearing, and infectious, and it made him giggle. "Take that! Canada said 'yes', he said 'yes'! Fuck yeah!"

"Who…?"

But, somehow, it did not seem to matter as much.

Author's Notes:

Ahaha, they're both idiots. And their conversations are so awkward. 'Nough said. I think that Prussia had been waiting for a chance to talk to Canada, to ask him out, for quite some time.

I was supposed to have more to post but I spent the day at the hospital with my sister. She's alright, more or less, but uncomfortable and in pain. We're waiting on test results. Anyway, I'll be able to work on those other projects later this week.