The chilled wind bit the Englishman's nose, drying his already chapped lips. His green gaze wandered over the busy street, his hands tucked neatly in the pockets of his trenchcoat. He took a deep breath of air, closing his eyes a moment.

He tried to relax. He couldn't. How could anyone relax like this? The Brit gave a frustrated sigh, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably.

"Oh Angleterre~"

Fuck.

Arthur stopped where he was, slowly opening his eyes to see the annoying Frenchman practically bouncing toward him- he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"Hello, frog. What do you want?" England greeted in monotone, gaze drifting across the street and locking on a black car. He gave a 'tsk' of annoyance before returning his gaze to France, who now stood directly in front of him.

"Arthur, you wound me. Can I not just come and visit my old friend?" Francis replied overdramatically, putting a hand over his heart and looking offended. This time Arthur really did roll his eyes.

"Haven't you lot ever heard of calling? You're just as bad as the American.." Arthur shook his head, sighing heavily. Why did everything have to be so… Annoying, for lack of a better word.

Francis gasped.

"Angleterre! That is an unjust accusation! How could you- and I thought we were just beginning to get along." He pout, faking tears in his eyes.

"Bugger off, frog. I'm busy."

"Busy? With what?"

"With walking. Why is it any of your business!?" Arthur huffed, pushing past the Frenchman to continue walking. Francis put his arm over his shoulders and followed, causing Arthur to scowl at him.

"Arthur, brighten up! It is a beautiful day, non? Even for your country."

Arthur jabbed him in the side.

"Ow! Now that was unnecessary." Francis pout again, and again Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Now seriously, frog. What is it that you want?"

"Well.. You didn't come to the meeting yesterday, and you haven't been answering your phone."

Arthur stopped in his tracks.

"That was yesterday!?" He huffed in annoyance, sending a piercing glare at the black car which hadn't moved as of yet.

"Oui, it was. We were worried about you!" Francis followed the Brits gaze, brow furrowing in confusion. Arthur huffed, beginning to walk again.

"Sorry. I'll make sure I go next time."

"Angleterre, why were you glaring at that car?"

"It doesn't matter. When's the next meeting?"

Francis cast the Brit a suspicious look, but decided to drop it- for now.

"Two weeks from now."

Arthur gave a small nod, staring straight ahead with a slight scowl to his features. Francis frowned.

'Angleterre is acting a bit strange.. I wonder if anything happened..'

"Why were you not answering your phone, mon lapin?" Francis asked, smiling lightly again.

"I was.." Arthur trailed slightly, as though trying to figure out a proper response, "Busy."

"You seem to be very 'busy' lately, Angleterre."

Sapphire met emerald in a tense moment, both men attempting to decode the others thoughts.

"Yes, well, sometimes people get busy." Arthur looked away, picking up the pace and leaving the Frenchman to follow, watching with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

A few moments later, they arrived at the Brits house- or mansion, rather. How could one man live in such a big building? Then again, many nations lived in large places such as this, and it wasn't a surprise that Arthur would be one of them.

Francis knew the house very well- after all, he had known the Englishman for many a year, and there were few rooms that he hadn't been allowed in. Besides that, Arthur hardly ever changed anything in the house.

Which is why Francis was a bit taken aback when he saw a mechanical lock on the door. Well, it didn't look like much of a lock. There was no key-hole, or button, or number-pad: just a metal box with a red bar of light at the top.

France looked at England in confusion, but the Brit offered no answers, stopping at the door and waiting a second until a click was heard and the light turned green. The door opened with ease.

The next thing that surprised France was how still the air seemed, and how clean everything was. Not one thing was out of place or unorganized. It was almost as though no one lived there at all. No clutter on the tables, couch pillows piled onto a chair. There was no dishes left from afternoon tea, no discarded newspaper.

France frowned in concern, but Arthur tried to act natural, suddenly feeling a weight on his shoulders as his eyes moved to every corner, suppressing a shudder.

Francis the unsettling feeling that usually accompanied being watched.

"Angleterre-"

"How about you go sit down. I'll make some tea." The Brit interrupted, and he didn't wait for a response before quickly rushing to the kitchen, not even taking off his coat.

Something was definitely wrong.

Francis removed his coat, hanging it before moving into the living room. His sapphire gaze searched the room for any irregularities in the order- he froze.

Was that a.. camera?

Under the mantle of the fireplace, he could just spot a small, hidden camera. He approached it, frowning into it before beginning to search the room.

He found several hidden cameras- in the corners, under the coffee table, on the windowsill.

Another layer added to the mystery when he looked out the window, spotting the same car as before parked across the street.

With another uncomfortable look around the room, Francis sat on the couch.

Why on Earth did Arthur have his house so.. secure? If, indeed, that was the case. France noted that the Brit didn't seem to happy about the people in the car, and the look in his eyes when they entered the house..

Perhaps Arthur was just being watched? Monitored? That would explain the phones..

Francis leaned back, simply getting more confused, but his thoughts were interrupted as Arthur came back into the room and handed him a cup of tea before taking a seat in a chair, back facing the window.

France studied the Brit carefully. He certainly looked relaxed, but Francis had known him for years. He could see his the discomfort and nervousness from how tensely the other nation moved the cup to his lips, not looking at France all the while.

The Frenchman opened his mouth to ask, but quickly closed it again. If they were being watched, who was to say that their conversations weren't being heard? He sipped his own tea. It seemed he would be getting no answers today.

"You should've heard the ridiculous things America was saying yesterday."