A/N: Hey guys! Happy Valentine's Day/Singles Awareness Day/Thursday! Just to warn you in advance, this fic is an AU, so human names are used, and it contains swearing, Spamano, and abuse of the word awesome (and a door). Massive thanks to Citrus Ninja and KaelynnSkye for their completely awesome ideas; you guys rule. Enjoy, and please review!

Disclaimer: Here is a list of things I own: my notebook, my pen, and my computer. Here is a list of things I do not own: Hetalia, Eastenders, Tesco and various lyrics. Thank you.

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"We should make a pact."

The three of them were sat in their favourite pub, back in the shady corner with the ancient jukebox. It wasn't the best of establishments, but they had the football, the regulars were good for a laugh, and best of all, no-one cared how pissed you got. In the eyes of the self-proclaimed 'Bad Touch Trio', it was nothing short of perfect.

Gilbert took a gulp of his beer and carried on.

"It's the fourteenth tomorrow, and despite our valiant efforts, we're all still single."

"So what do you suggest we do, mon cher?" Francis raised an eyebrow and poured himself another glass of wine.

"We make a pact. Tomorrow, we're gonna abandon all our awesomeness and be as romantic as Mr fucking Darcy."

Francis was about to point out that Mr Darcy wasn't actually that romantic, but then wondered how Gilbert knew about him in the first place, and decided that he didn't really want to know.

"We're gonna go out there and woo like we've never wooed before! We will be the best," he stood on his chair and raised his glass in the air, "most awesomest romanticist wooer guys in the whole world, ever!"

Gilbert grinned wildly, and Francis decided not to comment on his lack of proper grammar (was 'awesomest' even a word?). Then the albino swiftly sat down and leaned in, looking serious.

"So," he said, voice low, "tomorrow night, we will all have dates, or else. You got me?"

Francis nodded. "I've got you."

"Toni?"

The Spaniard, who until then had been happily slurping on his tomato juice, looked up.

"Huh?"

"Are you in?"

"In what?"

Gilbert face-palmed, while Francis sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Tomorrow we're going to be romantic and get ourselves dates."

"Why tomorrow?"

"'Cause it's Valentine's Day, you douche!"

"Ooooh… So what are we doing?"

"Wooing. We're going to woo."

"Woo?"

"Fuck!"

Gilbert got up, went over to the bar, and came back with a pen and a napkin. He threw the napkin on the table, and started drawing on it.

"Right." Gilbert spoke as if he were talking to a small child, not one of his best friends. "All you have to do is follow these very simple instructions, yeah? Can you manage that?" He didn't wait for an answer. "You," he drew a smiling stick man, "are going to go out," he drew an arrow," tomorrow," a sun, "and get yourself a date." He drew a big heart at the end of the arrow. "You got that?"

Antonio cocked his head to the side and took another slurp of his drink. Eventually the straw left his mouth with a pop, and he grinned.

"Si, si! You want me to flirt with them!"

"Woo, Toni. We woo."

"Fine, I will go and woo someone. Who says 'woo', anyway?"

"Romantic people. We have to be romantic. You know what that means, right?"

"Of course! Chocolates and roses and cards and picnics-"

"Ja, okay, okay, you get it. Awesome. Now who wants another drink?"

-#]=+=[#-

Gilbert ran a hand through his hair and looked up at the house. This was gonna be awe- wait. Not awesome. Romantic. Really, really, romantic. Yeah. The German nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other, waiting for Liz to emerge. He had it all planned out- she would come out of her house, and he would leap from the bushes with roses and chocolates and sweep her off her feet. What could possibly go wrong?

The door banged against its frame, and Gilbert stood to attention. Any moment now…

A pretty girl with long, light brown hair came out of the porch and started to walk towards her car, carefully balancing a box of cooking equipment on her hip as she fumbled with the keys.

'Okay,' thought Gilbert, peering through the leaves, 'here goes nothing.' He took a deep breath and leapt from his hiding place.

"LIZZIE!"

The girl in question shrieked and dropped her belongings, pots and pans clattering onto the driveway. She turned towards the source of the mysterious yelling, and a bunch of flowers was shoved in her face.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Lizzie!"

'Lizzie' removed the flora from her nostrils and glared.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt, I should have known. What the hell are you doing here?"

"It's Valentine's Day, so I went all romantic and brought you flowers and chocolate and my awesome presence," he shoved the chocolates into her hands, "so will you go on an awesomely romantic date with me?"

Liz just stared at him.

'Shit,' thought Gilbert. 'Too much awesome.'

Just as the silence began to become overwhelmingly awkward, Liz gave a momentous sneeze. She looked down at the bundle of flowers at her feet and her face went eerily calm.

"Roses… You. Gave. Me. Roses."

Gilbert shrugged and grinned sheepishly.

"Well, yeah… It's Valentine's Day, so-"

"I'm- atchoo! - allergic to roses."

"Oh."

Liz blew her nose and looked up at Gilbert with malice in her eyes. She reached down and grasped a shiny, stainless steel handle. Gilbert's eyes followed it as it widened out into a brand new, shiny, non-stick frying pan.

He thought that now might be a very good time to run.

-#]=+=[#-

"This is the night, what a beautiful night…"

Francis sang happily as he parked his car on the driveway of Arthur's country house. He turned off the stereo and checked his reflection in the rear-view mirror. Magnifique. He had done a lot of research in order to be as romantic as possible in the eyes of his English amour, so he hoped the man would appreciate it. Arthur didn't have the same tastes as the Frenchman in a lot of things (especially food, apparently), so Francis had decided to think outside the box. He had searched the internet for hours to find the perfect way to woo Arthur, and to Francis at least, it really did seem perfect. As Arthur's friend Alfred had told him, the best way to learn about the English was through their soap operas.

Francis hummed happily to himself and adjusted his bow tie before picking the flamboyant bouquet of roses he had chosen off the passenger seat and getting out of the car. He locked it and shivered at the cold, February air, then set off towards the front door. He winced as he walked; why did all these rich English people have gravel driveways? It was most annoying.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped onto the stone steps, and took a moment to collect himself before knocking on the door.

There was no answer.

He tried again, and waited as patiently as he possibly could, but still no-one came to the door.

Getting fed up, Francis raised his fists and hammered on the door as hard as he possibly could. He heard the sound of feet running down stairs, and immediately stopped the abuse of the wood, flicking a switch at his neck. A voice started shouting as it came through the hall.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming, keep your hair on…"

The door opened to reveal a slightly dishevelled Englishman who appeared to have only just emerged from his bed. Francis thrust the flowers out towards him.

"Arthur! Happy Valentine's Day, mon cher!"

"Francis? What do you… "

Arthur trailed off as he took in the sight before him.

Francis.

On his doorstep.

Holding an expensive looking bunch of flowers.

Wearing nothing but a spinning bow tie.

Arthur's face turned from pink, to red, to purple, and finally paling to an alarming shade of white.

He screamed.

-#]=+=[#-

Antonio, also known as Toni, skipped down the street, dressed in his favourite red T-shirt and torn jeans. He didn't see the point in getting all dressed up; either they liked you, or they didn't. Clothes had nothing to do with it. In his left hand was a huge wicker picnic basket filled with every single red food he could find: strawberries, tomatoes, raspberries, tomato sandwiches, apples, tomato juice, red Haribo, tomato jelly and other tomato related products. In his right were a bunch of flowers… and a card with a tomato on the front. Antonio was certain that there were no better Valentine's gifts possible. Ever.

He stopped outside a modest semi-detached house. As he walked along the path, a little grey tabby cat meowed and rubbed against his legs. Antonio bent down to stroke it, murmuring to it in Spanish. After a while, he stood up and the cat ran off after a butterfly. He walked to the front door and placed his basket on the ground. Grinning widely, he rang the doorbell.

-#]=+=[#-

"Well that was a truly epic fail."

They had congregated once more in the pub, Gilbert nursing several hefty bruises as well as a large beer.

"And whose idea was it in the first place?"

Gilbert glared at the Frenchman and refused to answer. Instead he carried on like there had been no interruption.

"I get attacked by a mad bitch with a frying pan, you get arrested for indecent exposure, and what've we got to show for it? Fuck all, that's what." He took a sip of his beer, seething. "All those hours of planning and prep and whatever, all down the fucking drain. Yet another lonely Valentine's Day for the Bad Touch Trio. So un-awesome."

Francis looked up from the papers detailing the terms of his bail.

"Well, we still have this afternoon. We could always go and see if our charms can win over the general public, by which I mean to say, cute single girls…"

Gilbert smiled.

"I like the sound of this plan. You in, Toni?"

Toni, who hadn't said anything to the other two about his morning (leading them to believe he'd chickened out), looked at his friend.

"In what?"

Gilbert and Francis exchanged glances.

"We're gonna go woo some chicks, you coming?"

He smiled.

"Sure, why not?"

-#]=+=[#-

"Aw, come on! One drink..? Well damn!"

Gilbert pouted at the girl as she walked off with her friends. He picked the sign up from the ground and wiped the dirt off with his sleeve. Obviously these chicks just didn't get romance; why else would they refuse his awesome charms?

"Oh, my love, my darling, I've hungered for your touch…"

Gilbert scowled as another couple walked past. So much love. It was sickening. He spied a group of young women coming out of a department store and plastered an awesome-and-not-at-all-creepy smile on his face.

"Hey, ladies! Got dates for this evening? No? Awesome, go out with me!"

The girls looked over and giggled, but didn't stop. Gilbert sighed and looked at his sign: 'Have dinner with me and get free chocolate'. Evidently the girls in this city were on diets.

"Hold me in your arms, tonight…"

Bloody Francis. The singing was beginning to give him a headache. The Frenchman was standing on a bench in the middle of the square, wearing a full three-piece suit and serenading the shoppers.

"I can be your hero…"

Francis finished to rapturous applause, and gave a bow, blowing a kiss to a group of middle-aged women with Tesco bags. His idea of wooing was certainly popular, but it didn't seem to be proving successful.

Antonio, on the other hand, appeared to be swimming in girls. He was handing out roses with a smile and a few Spanish compliments. The chicks couldn't get enough of it, but still he looked to be without a date. Gilbert couldn't understand it.

The German looked up as a few spots of rain fell on his head. It was beginning to get dark.

Francis finished another love song and his little audience scattered as the heavens opened. He ran over to Gilbert, who was covering his head with his sign. Antonio gathered up his remaining flowers and joined them.

"Pub?"

"Pub."

"Pub, definitely pub!"

-#]=+=[#-

After twenty minutes of silence, bar the clinking of glasses and chatter of other pub-goers, Gilbert slammed his empty glass on the table.

"Fuck it; I'm not spending my Valentine's Day getting pissed in a pub like some old bastard. Francis, we're going to dinner. You're paying."

Francis put down his wine glass and smiled.

"If I do, will I get those chocolates, mon cher?"

"Yeah, whatever. Just let's get out of here."

"With pleasure." The Frenchman looked at Antonio. "Toni, do you mind..?"

"Huh? Oh, no, you go and have fun."

"Will you be alright by yourself?"

"I'll be fine, don't worry!" He grinned.

"That's settled then. Au revoir, Toni." Francis got up and headed for the exit, Gilbert hot on his heels. "I know a very good French restaurant near the river, I'm sure I could get us a table…"

Gilbert waved to Antonio and replied.

"Awesome, just as long as you don't try and snog me again."

"Mon cher, why would I ever do a thing like that?"

"Yeah, well, I know you…"

Antonio smiled as his friends left the pub. He finished his drink and pulled on his jacket, pausing only to wish the barman a good evening before heading out into the night.

-#]=+=[#-

"-But then when it started raining we got all wet and went to the pub, and-"

"Yeah, okay, you've told me this already. Shut up and eat your fucking food."

Antonio grinned and took a bite of the pizza. Margherita with extra tomatoes, his favourite.

"So how was your afternoon?"

"A hell of a lot better than yours. Feli went off with that potato bastard, so I had the place to myself. Watched some TV."

Antonio swallowed the last of his pizza and pulled a square box out of his pocket, passing it over the table.

"Happy Valentine's day, mi tomate."

His companion blushed a deep shade of red.

"Don't call me that, and why are you giving me stuff, you already did that fucking picnic- if that's a ring, my answer is no, bastard!"

Antonio chuckled and shook his head.

"Just open it, Lovi."

Still looking slightly wary, Lovino opened the box.

"You… what the hell is this?"

Antonio got up and moved to stand next to the Italian. He reached down and plucked the silver chain from the box.

"It's a heart."

"It's a tomato."

"It's a tomato heart." He wrapped the chain around Lovino's neck and fastened it. The red and green crystal nestled against his shirt, glittering softly. "It means I love you."

Lovino's face coloured.

"Shut up, tomato bastard. You don't love me-"

Antonio pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I do."

Lovino jerked away, scowling. "Get off me!"

"Ah, you're so cute when you blush, Lovi!"

"Shut up, bastard! And stop calling me Lovi."

Antonio smiled widely. "No."

Lovino groaned. "You're so annoying!"

Antonio wrapped his arms around the Italian from behind. Lovino struggled in his hold, though not enough to get rid of him; he didn't want the Spaniard to let go. Not because he liked it. He was just feeling generous. After a moment, Lovino relaxed slightly, and Antonio brought one hand up to play with his hair.

"Thank you for being my Valentine, Lovi," he whispered, receiving a non-committal grunt from the other brunette. He leant in closely, so his lips were right next to Lovino's ear. "Te amo."

Lovino blushed. "W-whatever, bastard…"

There was silence, bar the dripping of the tap in the kitchen and ticking of the clock on the mantle. Then-

"DON'T TOUCH MY CURL, YOU BASTARD!"

~The End~

A/N: If you were wondering, the songs used (in order) were 'Bella Notte' from Disney's 'Lady and the Tramp', 'Unchained Melody' by various artists, including The Righteous Brothers, and 'Hero' By Enrique Iglesias. The scene with Francis and the bow tie was shamelessly based on the scene in 'Eastenders' where Frank turns up on Pat's doorstep wearing nothing but a spinning bow tie. You can probably find it on the internet somewhere, if you're interested.

Thanks for reading, and again, reviews would be greatly welcomed! Happy Valentine's Day!