All I have to say is that it's 4am and this is un-spell-checked. You ever wonder if the decision you're making is a good one?

HAHA I'm goin' to bed L8r losers.

Enjoy! ;)

World meetings were a pain in the proverbial ass. As, England was sure, most countries would agree (and he only said most and not all, because he was sure there was at least one twisted soul out there that saw them as a bonding opportunity or some other bollocks). World meetings were an especially huge pain in the ass when you were the one hosting, something England was rather miserably lamenting.

At least he'd gotten his bit over with, he supposed miserably, casting his eyes over to Ireland who seemed to be lazily playing with a couple of pixies who were flitting around his head. He inwardly growled, they were most certainly his pixies, the fact that they'd choose to entertain Ireland and not him was just-

There was a loud crash outside the room, as if a large animal was barging its way down the hall and knocking everything over in the process. And if the equally loud clomping footfalls were anything to go by, he'd be correct in that assumption.

The room went absolutely silent for the ten seconds it took the clomping footfalls to reach the door.

And then the doors burst open, and everyone remained absolutely silent in awe of what they saw.

A unicorn.

A huge unicorn with the stature of what England's trained eye identified as a Clydesdale, although its colouring seemed to be reversed, and it's hair a vibrant shade of auburn rather than brown, and a horn that easily measured a metre long. Quite simply speaking, it was breathtaking.

All at once, England, Ireland, and Norway were out of their seats, and hurrying over to the creature, who pawed at the ground anxiously. They were soon followed by Romania and Belarus, who stood a little way away, carefully analyzing the expressions of everyone in the room to make sure none of them panicked and spooked the creature.

"Easy boy," Norway cooed, pressing a hand lightly to its neck, "Easy."

"We got you," Ireland continued, reaching out a hand so it could sniff at his hand, which it promptly sneezed on.

England snorted out a laugh at Ireland's noise of disgust, "You have no finesse with these creatures, Ireland," and reached to do the same, a light smile on his face. The unicorn, eyes a deep, and strangely familiar shade of green, looked up at him and nickered, pressing forward into his hand. "There, see," and didn't even bother to hide the smug look on his face as Ireland pouted.

England ran a hand up the unicorn's nose, it letting out a content snort, "What a beautiful boy you are," he said, his voice practically dripping with adoration.

A little known fact about England; his absolutely favourite magical creature was a unicorn (Of course, never tell that to Flying Mint Bunny).

So he certainly wasn't going to pass up this opportunity, especially since it was blissfully distracting him from the meeting.

Norway nodded, a hand travelling up to scratch behind its ear, which made it nicker happily again, "You're lovely," he agreed.

"Uh, guys?"

The three of them turned around. America was looking at them in what can only be described as dumbfounded astonishment, "Please tell me we can all see what I think I'm seeing and that I'm not as crazy as the looney-bin over there."

There was a general chorus of, "No, we can see it too, and we're just as freaked out as you are."

England grit his teeth, "Who are you calling the looney-bin?" he said tensely, but the unicorn chose that moment to take a step forward and rest its chin on England's shoulder, a small and slightly pleased whinny coming from it. England turned back to it, his hand smoothing up its snout, "Hey, hey," he smiled, "What do you want?"

At that, the unicorn stood to its full height, pushing past him to happily wander over to the old chalk-board that sat on one of the walls.

The five magic-savvy nations frowned at the unicorn's actions, unsure exactly what to make of them, the other nations leaning away from the creature as it passed them.

"Hey England?" Norways said a little absentmindedly, not taking his eyes off of the unicorn as it sniffed a little at the board, "I feel inclined to tell you that those unicorn horns I used to sell you were narwhal tusks."

England turned to him with a look of amusement, "I worked that out hundreds of years ago, Norway."

Norway shrugged, "I felt the need to clear my conscience."

The unicorn whinnied in irritation as it seemed to not find what it was looking for, stomping a little on the floor and huffing out a snort. The five magical nations hurried over to it, each running a soothing hand over some part of it. It huffed as England approached its nose again, and leaned its head forward to once again rest against England's shoulder.

"He likes you," Romania noted with amusement.

"Well I can only assume he's one of mine so-" At that the unicorn butted the side of their heads together. Hard. "Ow, what was that for!" he demanded of the creature, who only settled its head again and made a sound which sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

"I don't think he likes being called yours," Ireland said with more than a little amusement.

Another sound which sounded like agreement.

It rather suddenly perked up, turning toward the chalkboard and running it's horn down it with the most awful scraping noise that had most of the nations groaning and clutching at their ears.

When the noise stopped the unicorn nickered and nudged at England to get him to look up.

Written messily on the board in all caps was...

I'M SCOTLAND

England's eyes widened, as did most of the room, "Scotland?"

The unicorn bobbed it's head, neighing happily.

Ireland stared at it, his mouth wide open, "Scot- what? How?"

The unicorn, now identified as Scotland, seemed to think for a moment before turning back to the board, to which the general consensus of the room was a firm "NO!"

England stared for another moment, at the Scotland-unicorn who looked a little affronted at the loud yell, before leaning forward and pressing his lips lightly to the place just below where the horn protruded from Scotland's head.

There was a bright light one moment, which caused yet another universal groan from everyone in the room, and then Scotland was standing in front of England, slightly bent over, with England's lips still pressed gently to his forehead. When England pulled back it was with an amusedly raised eyebrow, to which Scotland replied with a sheepish grin.

"Care to explain?"

"Well..."

Long story short, Scotland made the mistake of thinking that petting a baby unicorn would be a good idea. The baby unicorn's mother on the other hand, most certainly did not think that petting the baby unicorn was a good idea.

"You're kidding?" Ireland laughed, making Scotland ruefully shake his head.

"I'm afraid not."

"You're actually the world's biggest twat," England sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "What would you have done had you not been able to find me?"

Scotland shrugged, "Probably wander the highlands for a while and excite some hikers." England levelled him a dry look which prompted the sheepish smile back into Scotland's face. He coughed, "Or hidden until you'd come back so you could fix it...?" He sent a glance at Ireland, who gave him a thumbs up.

England raised a miffed eyebrow at them both, "I'm quite certain you would have."

Scotland's face split into a mischievous grin, "Has anyone told you you're sexy when you're pissed off?"

The meeting let out after a giggly Scotland fled the room followed by a more pissed off England and an all too amused Ireland, Romania, Norway, and Belarus. The rest of the countries then silently, but unanimously, decided that the incident should just be forgotten, and the meeting continued tomorrow when no countries who had been turned into things that don't exist would barge into the room.