Second Hand

By Chibi Ra Chan

Rated K+

Pairing; None really, Maybe a little FrUK

He sees the little boy sitting outside the meeting room. The poor thing is always sitting out there, waiting to get into the meeting, to earn his own name, his own seat among them; a true nation. France always notices him, even if others do not, or pretend not to.

He watches week after week as the tiny child sits on a bench, his tiny legs swinging back and forth hoping someone will ask him to join.

They never do.

He reminds him so much of Arthur when he was a child, that unkempt blonde hair, the pushing attitude, and those horrid eyebrows. Sealand was truly a blast from the past.

The Frenchmen felt bad for the boy, he just wanted someone to see him and it was incredibly unlikely that England could, or would, give him the attention he so sought. Arthur was never good with child nations and if his looks were any indication of his attitude, the two were probably too alike to ever really get along.

He felt bad, he truly did. He had a firm belief that everyone in the world should have a least one person who loved them. Life was much too cruel to face alone.

The least he could do was talk to him. Who knew what that alone could help with?

Besides, Francis had always had a soft spot for lonely kids.

"Bonjour petit Pierre!" came a loud and sing-song voice.

Sealand wouldn't have answered to that but the hallway was empty except for the two of them. The world meeting had let out of lunch and all the other nations had left to get something to eat before America had more 'ideas' to discuss.

Still Peter looks around to make sure it is him who the man is talking too. "You mean me?"

"Yes you." He says with a smile. Peter looks at him skeptically. Why in the world was France talking to him? No one talked to him at world meetings, save for maybe Latvia, but he was under orders to stop acknowledging him.

"My name's Peter, not Pierre and stop saying stupid French stuff at me."

But Francis only smiles. "But where I come from 'Peter' is the same as 'Pierre'."

"Yeah well we're not there so call me by my correct name okay!" The child snaps. Peter pretends that he hadn't just sounded an awful lot like England.

Honestly the name mix up didn't upset him all that much; today had just been a bad day.

Stupid England left him at home even though he begged him to take him to the meeting, causing him to get here late.

Then they wouldn't let him into the meeting, so he sat outside the doors sulking. None of this was exactly new either, that was the part that upset him most. He was tired of no one paying attention to him, and he was taking his frustration out on the first person who talked to him.

Luckily, Francis doesn't let his words deter him, if anything they make only him smile more. "Fine, fine, Peter it is then." The tall nation squats down in front of him so that they are eyelevel. "How would you like to go to lunch with me Peter?"

Sealand is unnerved by the blonde's sudden interest in him. He'd be surprised by anyone's interest in him, but France in particular set alarms off in his head.

He had grown up listening to him and Jerk England fighting and arguing. Many times Arthur had made him listen to his numerous complaints about him and thus his head was filled with less than flattering images of the Frenchmen.

Sealand scoots away a bit and furrows his too think eyebrows in suspicion. "You're not trying to take advantage of me and wreck my virgin body are you? Cuz' I've heard stories about you."

Francis can hardly believe his ears.

"Y-you think I want to do what to your what?"

Is this what children think of him these days? True he enjoyed the carnal pleasures that life saw fit to bless him with but he would never mix that with children. He was many things, but an adolescent virgin body wrecker was not one of them.

"Hey I'm just asking. England says I should be weary of you and your hands. And that you're a frog. And that you're easy to get into bed when you're drunk. But that's beside the point and not to mention gross." Peter cringed a little at the thought.

"There are so many things wrong with everything you just said, but I am willing to overlook it because it is probably Angleterre's lack of parental grace that poisoned your mind."

Sealand shrugs and moves to get off the bench; Francis relents and stands, allowing the brash little boy some room. Obviously sweetness wasn't going to cut it with this one. Somehow France hadn't thought it would.

So instead he decides to go with plan b; bribery.

It worked well enough when Mathieu was a child.

When he had found the boy all those years ago, Canada hadn't wanted anything to do with anyone; he would trash his things and bite him all the time. At least until Francis had introduced him to refined maple syrup with sugar. Then the baby nation had been the gentlest creature he had ever known.

A part of him snickered at the fact that when Arthur had taken the boy away from him, France had neglected to tell him the secret to calming Canada down and the Brit still had the scars that stood testament to that.

But he digressed; the matter at hand was how to get Sealand to believe him when he said he had no intention of violating his 'virgin body' as he so tastefully put it.

"Here's the deal mon cher." The Frenchmen ignored the boy's face when he spoke French. "I am going to go across the street to that bakery and I am going to order two servings of delicious chocolate éclairs with some overly sweet frilly drinks to go with them."

Peter's eyes grew large. France could see his mouth practically watering. Chocolate, his one weakness. Such was the case with most people under the age of 13 he found.

"So if you happen to find yourself in the area in say, ten minutes, with a sweet tooth, then so be it. If not then cest la vie." With one final award winning smile Francis walked away, presumably to have delicious sweets and frilly overly sweet drinks.

Peter was torn on what to do.

Best case scenario; Delicious cream filled pastries with chocolate lacing and a brightly colored fruity drink.

Worst case scenario; Tied up with duct in the back of a white windowless van.

Dessert, rape, dessert, rape. This shouldn't be a hard decision.

But damn it, he was hungry! And France was being nice to him. The fact that he was talking to him had already put him ahead of many other nations on the 'People to spare when I become an empire' list.

"I'll give the bastard a chance." He mutters to himself, while walking toward to elevator to get to bakery France had told him about. "But if he tries anything, I'll kick him in the nads. Yeah, that'll show him!"

And that is how everything began; with a rapturous craving for chocolate pastries.

Notes;

I can't believe I am writing a PG story. I thought I had lost the ability. I find Sealand rather interesting to write. He's like a more hyper and bitter Korea.

This is not a Sealand/France story in case you were worried. It's more a of a feel good raising-a-trouble-child-with-a-heart-of-gold story. Please feel free to drop a review and tell me what you think; I'm super unsure about this one.

I don't know how to write a non-shipping story, so all feedback will help!

Forever and Eternally,

-Ra