Author isn't sure this is quite what original-anon wanted, but we can hope
England hated meetings with all the heat and venom an old pirate could muster – which was rather a lot. When the meeting in question was the regular European Union gathering, he was even less happy: at least at the world meetings and the G8 and its overgrown cousin the G whatever the hell it was these days (he thought 20, but it seemed to expand every year or so) he could be reasonably sure of interacting with his former colonies rather than having to fight his old instincts and try not to start a war with the rest of Europe.
These days, there was entirely too high a chance he wouldn't win.
He scowled at France when the frog tried to cop a feel, glared so fiercely at Spain that Italy Romano paled, and was hardly any less irritable towards any of the other nations attending. It didn't help that neither Germany nor Italy Veneziano were here – and Germany was never late. Veneziano, well... the Italies split their meeting duties often enough, and while England had no doubt Veneziano would cheerfully skip the meetings to stay with his 'dear friend', Germany would never tolerate slacking.
That was a man who ate, slept, and breathed doing things by the book.
Which made his absence even more peculiar.
France – of course – had taken advantage of the German's absence and was greeting (read: feeling up) all of the Eurozone members. Since the Frog referred to that abomination as a group marriage, he probably thought it was justified.
The door slammed open exactly as the clock on the wall ticked over to 9 am.
Like everyone else in the room, England turned to stare.
Prussia – in a suit and tie for once – paused to let everyone admire his so-called awesomeness before strolling to Germany's seat.
England wasn't the only nation to draw in a sharp breath.
Prussia's red eyes gleamed, and a hint of his obnoxious smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth. “Good morning. My brother is unable to attend today: our Chancellor required his personal involvement.” He set his attache case on the chair and extracted a laptop. “If it makes you feel better, for the purposes of this meeting, I am Germany.”
France shook his head while Prussia was opening the laptop. “Non. Why would you take on another's name even for a day?”
For once, England couldn't fault the blasted frog. All of them were exquisitely sensitive to who they were, and their names were the most important part of that. Hell, Prussia himself refused to answer to anything other than his old name, even more than sixty years after Prussia had ceased to exist anywhere except in history books – and not often in those either, with the name of Germany being used instead.
Prussia raised one white eyebrow. “I'm here representing Germany.”
England wondered what else Prussia was doing: this wasn't his normal manner. Usually Prussia was loud, obnoxious, and had even less ability to read the atmosphere than America – which was saying something. This rather sober, serious Prussia was something odd and it made England's skin crawl.
“I believe everyone is here?” Prussia wasn't really asking. “Belgium, you are secretary for the meeting this round, correct.”
Belgium nodded, biting her lip as though she expected an insult or mockery.
She didn't get it from Prussia: Austria demanded, “What gives you the right to run this?” The unspoken addition that Prussia wasn't even a nation hung in the air.
England tensed, ready for the inevitable brawl.
Prussia only smiled, his eyes narrowing a little. “As I said, I represent Germany. If you have any problems with that I invite you to take it up with me personally after the meeting.” His tone said clearly that he wouldn't hold back if anyone was foolish enough to object.
Since when has that git had that kind of charisma? England wondered. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the Teutonic twat practically glowing with controlled power, his eyes gleaming with an inner fire that England hadn't seen in, oh... years. More than a century, even.
After a short silence, Prussia said, “Let us open the meeting then. I think we can take the formal acknowledgments and so forth as read, since we're already late and we have a full agenda.”
“I had no idea he knew so many long words,” France murmured.
“Belt up, frog.” England kept his reply soft. There was something familiar about this Prussia, but he wasn't sure what it was. The memories teased odd corners of his mind.
“Greece,” Prussia said in a sharp, brisk tone. “Your report on your new boss's intentions and likely direction, if you would.”
Greece started a little, and rose to his feet, eyelids drooping and a cat in his arms. “He doesn't like the terms your banks are dictating. They're too harsh. You're asking too much.”
England winced at the explosion of shouting from the Eurozone nations. He'd never been so thankful he'd refused to join back when the shared currency had been created. It might be more difficult maintaining his own currency, but at least he wasn't bound to the other gits the way the Eurozone wankers were.
“ENOUGH!” Prussia's battlefield roar cut through the babble. France and Spain sank back into their seats, both wearing identical expressions of shock, expressions England saw echoed around the rest of the conference room. “Tell me, Greece, is it reasonable to expect you to support Germany's finances?”
What the...Before England could finish the thought, Greece's vehement “No!” echoed in the hush.
“Then why do you demand that Germany support you?” Prussia asked in a silky voice. “Why do you demand that Germany, and France, and Belgium, and the rest of us continue to support your government's irresponsible spending habits?”
Greece blinked. Petted the cat in his arms. “You're just trying to take over through the banks.”
Several of the nations with troubled economies nodded. Germany's position as the powerhouse and linchpin of the EU was one that generated a lot of resentment from the others, even those who'd been German allies in the last war.
When Germany was faced with that accusation he usually went even more stone-faced than usual and shouted a lot. Prussia laughed, mocking laughter that England never wanted turned in his direction. Then he smiled, which was arguably worse. England remembered now when he'd last seen Prussia like this: at Waterloo, badly wounded but still holding his battered army together by sheer force of will and refusing to accept anything less than victory or annihilation.
“Greece, really,” Prussia said in a gentle tone. “If my brother wanted to take over, the army would have marched. He doesn't do subtle. And if I wanted to take over, you'd already be Prussian territory.” He said something then, in Greek, which made Greece blanch and sit down hard enough to make his chair roll back.
Given the way Cyprus looked about to faint, Prussia had said something bad.
Not that England was going to ask. There were times when discretion was a better choice.
Re: Prussia filling in for Germany at meetings - Awesome Union 1 of ?
England hated meetings with all the heat and venom an old pirate could muster – which was rather a lot. When the meeting in question was the regular European Union gathering, he was even less happy: at least at the world meetings and the G8 and its overgrown cousin the G whatever the hell it was these days (he thought 20, but it seemed to expand every year or so) he could be reasonably sure of interacting with his former colonies rather than having to fight his old instincts and try not to start a war with the rest of Europe.
These days, there was entirely too high a chance he wouldn't win.
He scowled at France when the frog tried to cop a feel, glared so fiercely at Spain that Italy Romano paled, and was hardly any less irritable towards any of the other nations attending. It didn't help that neither Germany nor Italy Veneziano were here – and Germany was never late. Veneziano, well... the Italies split their meeting duties often enough, and while England had no doubt Veneziano would cheerfully skip the meetings to stay with his 'dear friend', Germany would never tolerate slacking.
That was a man who ate, slept, and breathed doing things by the book.
Which made his absence even more peculiar.
France – of course – had taken advantage of the German's absence and was greeting (read: feeling up) all of the Eurozone members. Since the Frog referred to that abomination as a group marriage, he probably thought it was justified.
The door slammed open exactly as the clock on the wall ticked over to 9 am.
Like everyone else in the room, England turned to stare.
Prussia – in a suit and tie for once – paused to let everyone admire his so-called awesomeness before strolling to Germany's seat.
England wasn't the only nation to draw in a sharp breath.
Prussia's red eyes gleamed, and a hint of his obnoxious smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth. “Good morning. My brother is unable to attend today: our Chancellor required his personal involvement.” He set his attache case on the chair and extracted a laptop. “If it makes you feel better, for the purposes of this meeting, I am Germany.”
France shook his head while Prussia was opening the laptop. “Non. Why would you take on another's name even for a day?”
For once, England couldn't fault the blasted frog. All of them were exquisitely sensitive to who they were, and their names were the most important part of that. Hell, Prussia himself refused to answer to anything other than his old name, even more than sixty years after Prussia had ceased to exist anywhere except in history books – and not often in those either, with the name of Germany being used instead.
Prussia raised one white eyebrow. “I'm here representing Germany.”
England wondered what else Prussia was doing: this wasn't his normal manner. Usually Prussia was loud, obnoxious, and had even less ability to read the atmosphere than America – which was saying something. This rather sober, serious Prussia was something odd and it made England's skin crawl.
“I believe everyone is here?” Prussia wasn't really asking. “Belgium, you are secretary for the meeting this round, correct.”
Belgium nodded, biting her lip as though she expected an insult or mockery.
She didn't get it from Prussia: Austria demanded, “What gives you the right to run this?” The unspoken addition that Prussia wasn't even a nation hung in the air.
England tensed, ready for the inevitable brawl.
Prussia only smiled, his eyes narrowing a little. “As I said, I represent Germany. If you have any problems with that I invite you to take it up with me personally after the meeting.” His tone said clearly that he wouldn't hold back if anyone was foolish enough to object.
Since when has that git had that kind of charisma? England wondered. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the Teutonic twat practically glowing with controlled power, his eyes gleaming with an inner fire that England hadn't seen in, oh... years. More than a century, even.
After a short silence, Prussia said, “Let us open the meeting then. I think we can take the formal acknowledgments and so forth as read, since we're already late and we have a full agenda.”
“I had no idea he knew so many long words,” France murmured.
“Belt up, frog.” England kept his reply soft. There was something familiar about this Prussia, but he wasn't sure what it was. The memories teased odd corners of his mind.
“Greece,” Prussia said in a sharp, brisk tone. “Your report on your new boss's intentions and likely direction, if you would.”
Greece started a little, and rose to his feet, eyelids drooping and a cat in his arms. “He doesn't like the terms your banks are dictating. They're too harsh. You're asking too much.”
England winced at the explosion of shouting from the Eurozone nations. He'd never been so thankful he'd refused to join back when the shared currency had been created. It might be more difficult maintaining his own currency, but at least he wasn't bound to the other gits the way the Eurozone wankers were.
“ENOUGH!” Prussia's battlefield roar cut through the babble. France and Spain sank back into their seats, both wearing identical expressions of shock, expressions England saw echoed around the rest of the conference room. “Tell me, Greece, is it reasonable to expect you to support Germany's finances?”
What the...Before England could finish the thought, Greece's vehement “No!” echoed in the hush.
“Then why do you demand that Germany support you?” Prussia asked in a silky voice. “Why do you demand that Germany, and France, and Belgium, and the rest of us continue to support your government's irresponsible spending habits?”
Greece blinked. Petted the cat in his arms. “You're just trying to take over through the banks.”
Several of the nations with troubled economies nodded. Germany's position as the powerhouse and linchpin of the EU was one that generated a lot of resentment from the others, even those who'd been German allies in the last war.
When Germany was faced with that accusation he usually went even more stone-faced than usual and shouted a lot. Prussia laughed, mocking laughter that England never wanted turned in his direction. Then he smiled, which was arguably worse. England remembered now when he'd last seen Prussia like this: at Waterloo, badly wounded but still holding his battered army together by sheer force of will and refusing to accept anything less than victory or annihilation.
“Greece, really,” Prussia said in a gentle tone. “If my brother wanted to take over, the army would have marched. He doesn't do subtle. And if I wanted to take over, you'd already be Prussian territory.” He said something then, in Greek, which made Greece blanch and sit down hard enough to make his chair roll back.
Given the way Cyprus looked about to faint, Prussia had said something bad.
Not that England was going to ask. There were times when discretion was a better choice.
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