Disclaimer: All credit for the characters goes to the original creator.

The night wore on with a quietness that was normally welcomed with wide-open arms by the Brit. Tonight though, Arthur really wanted more than just a good book and the telly droning on in the background about some other dodgy bloke that was spotted around a school. His head fell back against the armrest and he stretched his legs out in front of him with a groan.

"A slight man, brown hair, clean shaven and last seen wearing black trousers and a hoodie was spotted…" the woman's voice went on in a tone heavy with concern and warning. It was all just a job to her though, she got paid to say it a certain way… he doubted she actually cared. Kids weren't as dim witted as adults seemed to think they were. They knew all about stranger danger and all that rot. He closed his eyes and rested the book on his chest. His mind wandered, work had been uneventful. Nothing but the usual paperwork, some employee calling in sick, having to rush to make up for the loss of reports not getting done… nothing exciting. Nothing exciting ever happened to Arthur. That thought made a soft voice speak up in the back of his mind, 'that's a lie and you know it.' It was right… he hated it for being so damn right. 'You haven't spoken to him in a while…' now that was an even worse truth. Why did his mind always have to fuck him over by shoving the truth in his face? Exciting things had happened to him… once. They didn't anymore, well it was more like he didn't let them happen to him anymore.

He rolled over a bit and stole a sidelong glance at the clock on the top of the TV. It was 1AM… he might be awake… though if he is he's probably entertaining. That thought hurt… way more than it should have. It sent a searing pain through his chest that made him jolt a bit on the couch.

Arthur shoved his book off his chest, letting it fall to the couch as he got up and stumbled his way into the kitchen. He fumbled for a glass from the cabinet and filled it with ice-cold water which he downed in seconds before refilling it. Fuck he hated these lonely nights.

'You know you want to talk to him,' there it was again, that annoying voice of truth or was it sadism… because really he did want to talk Francis but at the same time he knew nothing good would come of it. Nothing good had ever come of it. He grabbed for his glass again, filling it and downing the ice-cold water before he finally put it in the sink. He could do the washing in the morning. He moved back into the living room, slumped on the couch and closed his eyes.

The last time they had spoken had been months ago at a meeting. Arthur had been sitting at one end of the boardroom table and Francis at the other. They had gotten organized enough that they separated everyone according to who actually liked each other. It avoided some fights or arguments but not nearly enough. They would never have a peaceful meeting. Really sometimes they were all like giant children. Arthur had been taking notes while Alfred spoke, though he wasn't really paying close attention to the American. He was detailing the finer points of something completely unrelated to the silly story Alfred was rambling on about. He glanced up from his notebook, mistake, and met Francis' eyes. His breath caught like it almost always did, he cleared his throat and stood without thinking. A few people looked over at him, most had been wrapped up in something else, chatting quietly amongst themselves instead of paying attention to the main speaker.

"I'll uh…. Lu." He got out clumsily and turned away from the table, heading out. Well that hadn't been graceful, really what was he so worked up over anyway? They had just looked at each other. No it was the fact that their eyes had met… which meant Francis had to have been looking at him to begin with. Well that shouldn't have sent his heart racing like a little schoolgirl's. He shoved the thought down as he got to the bathroom and b-lined it right for an open stall. He closed the door and slid the latch home before he sank down onto the toilet seat. He was trying to sort through his thoughts when he heard the bathroom door open and close, followed by light footsteps.

"Angleterre?" Francis' voice made Arthur look up and outwardly groan. He didn't want to talk to him right now… he didn't want to look at him either.

"What Francis?" Luckily Arthur managed to inject some venom into his voice as he asked that.

"You left rather quickly…" was the reply from the other side of the stall wall. "Are you okay?"

"Oh bugger off Francis, you don't actually care. What is it you want?" Arthur knew hiding behind the metal door was childish, but he really didn't want to open it and face the him right now.

"Well if you're going to be rude then I'll just leave." He heard shuffling outside the door, then a pause and a cough. "But I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee after the meeting."

Arthur stiffened and bit his lower lip at that, what had he been expecting from Francis? Really? It took him a moment before he worked up the nerve to answer. "No, I don't want to get coffee with you. Now will you leave me alone Francis?"

No answer came after that and he heard the door opening and closing, then the silence set in. When he had returned to the meeting a few minutes later Francis wasn't there and the rest of the day passed with only a few arguments and no further sight of Francis.

Arthur cracked his eyes open as the telly flickered to a new program, an old lady who was holding wood human shaped figures and answering sex questions had replaced the news. Now he remembered why he didn't stay up and watch late night telly.

Arthur pushed himself up off the couch again and grabbed the remote to turn the telly off before he headed up stairs to bed. His book long forgotten as he stumbled to the bathroom and brushed his teeth, he normally avoided looking in the mirror but tonight he spared a few glances and grimaced. When he was done he pushed fingers through his short blond hair and headed for his bed. He doubted he would be able to sleep, but maybe if he was at least in bed he would have more of a chance.

As soon as his head hit the pillow though his mind betrayed him and wandered back to Francis. They'd had an off again and on again relationship over their long lives, mostly an off one. He groaned and closed his eyes tightly as he tried to turn his brain off. Why was he thinking about this tonight? His evening had started off quiet and completely France free.