A/N: Okay, I'm not someone who tends to read a lot of reader insert fanfics. However, my sister has had a crush on the Hetalia England character for a while now, and then she told me about the awesome Canada that she RPs with, and it got me thinking about how amusing it could be with these two characters fighting over another character.
And, so, this story was born.
This story can also be found on Deviantart under the same name and will remain a chapter ahead of the FanFiction account one. So, hopefully, you guys will enjoy this attempt at writing a reader insert. :)
And now…I bring you Canadian Scones! :D
Chapter 1: First Impression
You've always lived a normal life. You'd wake up at 6:15 a.m., hit the alarm button to make that darned alarm clock just shut up, then shower. Afterwards, you'd eat a breakfast consisting of Eggo waffles and orange juice before heading out the door at 6:45. Driving your car, you'd take the same, normal route you've always taken since moving into the city and arrive to your workplace twenty-three minutes later. Clocking in, you'd sit at your desk, doing the same, normal secretary job you've done since you've been hired into the company. You'd take your lunch break at noon (always eating a turkey sandwich and drinking a bottle of water), then go straight back to working. Five hours later, you'd pack up and head out to your car. Depending on the grocery level at your house, you'd be able to arrive home twenty to fifty minutes later. Then, it'd be dinner, reading a book, and going online to chat with friends on Facebook for an hour or so before calling it a day. At 10:27 p.m., you'd crawl into bed, turn off the lamp, and fall asleep. Then, you'd repeat the pattern the next day.
And, quite frankly, this "normal" life is reeeeeaaalllly starting to get on your nerves.
You let your head connect with your desk, scattering a few papers into disarray. When the hell did your life get to be so dull? You remember that, a few years ago, you wanted to travel, meet new people, make new friends…get a boyfriend.
So far, you've met zero life goals. How depressing.
"Miss _, are you feeling alright?" Peeking a glance upwards, you see a man with dark hair standing in front of your desk. He's wearing a noticeably expensive brown suit with a tasteful tie and that watch just screams "cost me a fortune". His chocolate eyes are narrowed, but only out of concern. After all, seeing you with your head against the desk is a first for him.
"Oh!" You exclaim, getting back into a respectable seating position. "Good morning, Mr. Johnson! And there's no reason to be worried about me! I'm in perfect health," you add, a bit embarrassed at being caught by your boss at lagging behind.
Mr. Johnson raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything else. "I just wanted to remind you about the British representative that will be coming over today." Seeing your blank face, he lets out a sigh. "I can see that your memory span makes itself known again. Remember those important notes I handed to you after I came back from the United Kingdom? I explained that I needed a few copies typed and printed out for the representative that'd be coming around to check out our company."
Suddenly, you remember everything. "AAAAAAAAAAHHH!" you shriek, jumping out of your chair. You head towards the counter, noticing that there's no fresh coffee in the coffeemaker. Checking the cupboards, you couldn't find any coffee sources. Wanting to keep a supply of coffee in case Mr. Johnson and the British man wants any, you scramble out of the office room, remembering to grab an empty coffee pot. "Be back with coffee!" you manage to throw to Mr. Johnson before rushing out of the room. You don't see Mr. Johnson's amused look before he enters his own office room.
"Gotta run gotta run gotta run," you chant, rushing down the hallways with a newly-filled coffee pot. Oh, goodness. How could you have forgotten such an important event? No need to panic, you tell yourself. There's no need to get overworked about this. It's only one of the most important representatives that could make or break the company…
Well. That little internal chat did nothing to help you out. "Gotta run gotta run gotta run," you continue to chant, rushing even faster down the hallways. You're almost back to the doorway leading to your desk when you trip over your own feet, making the coffee pot sail into the air.
Your hopes of the coffee pot not hitting someone gets dashed once you hear the familiar poosh!-ing noise of a liquid being absorbed by some sort of fabric. Seconds later you hear a sizzling noise followed shortly by extremely loud curses. British curses.
You feel yourself going cold as you look up, desperately praying to God that you didn't just soak the person you thought you soaked with boiling hot coffee. Unfortunately, the accent gives the man away as the important British representative that's supposed to be checking out the company.
"Bloody wanker!" he continues to shout, trying to get the (boiling hot) moisture out of his blue suit. His hair has been matted down by the coffee hitting him square on, and you're just thankful that these hallways are floored by stone from the way he's dripping. The man continues to look mad. "Watch where you're going, you-" He opens his eyes, and you can see that they're a handsome green color. Upon spotting you, he stops cold with whatever curse he was going to fling your way.
This, you decide, would be the perfect opportunity to speak to him.
"Oh, dear God, I am so sorry!" you gasp, getting up from the floor. Then, to your adding embarrassment, you babble. "I spaced out that someone such as yourself was coming down today to check up on this established company and I started to panic and I got some coffee for you and Mr. Johnson and I'M SUCH A KLUTZ!" You grab his arm and drag him through the doorway. Grabbing some paper towels off of the counter, you rip a generous amount off of the roll and start drying him off. "I'm sorry for making your suit such a mess."
The man grabs a few paper towels, too, and wipes down his coffee-drenched sleeve. "It is quite alright," he stammers, glancing up at you every few seconds. "It was an accident. You did not mean to drop a coffee pot onto me."
You rip off more towels, trying to scrub the heck out of the torso area of the suit. For some reason, this causes the man to blush. "The fault is still mine. The least I can do is pay for the dry cleaning." Frowning at the towel that you've slightly ripped to shreds with your wiping, you toss it into the trash can and grab more towels to replace the shredded ones.
The foreigner gently grasps the towels from you and continues to do his best in getting out as much coffee from his suit as possible. "There's no need for that. As a gentleman, I should not have shouted such obscenities at you, Miss…?"
It takes you a bit to notice that he's stopped speaking. It takes you even longer to figure out that he's waiting for an introduction from you. "M-my name is _," you say, a bit nervous that he's remembering your name in order to give it to a hit man later on in the day. From the way he's been looking at you, he's probably remembering your features, too.
He gives a small smile. "What a lovely name," he compliments. He holds out the hand not gripping the now-brown paper towels, a smile still on his face. "I'm Arthur Kirkland. You can call me Arthur. I am pleased to meet your acquaintance." He has an amused twinkle in his eye. "…Although I am sure this was not how you expected to meet me."
You give a nervous laugh before deciding to bring up the current issue. "Um…I'm pretty sure that you don't want to appear before Mr. Johnson soaking wet." Seeing him still standing there, a bit more dry than he was a few minutes earlier, you still feel a pang of guilt.
"No worries, dear. I always pack an extra suit in case of emergencies."
You shake your head. "I made the mistake. I should fix it." You grab the dirty paper towels from Arthur and dump them into the trash. "Uh, I'm assuming that you'll want to know where the bathrooms are located?" Noticing Arthur's raised eyebrows (His eyebrows are huge! you think) and his amused expression, you think back to your question and how stupidly obvious it was that he wanted to change in the restrooms. You shake your head. "Yeah, yeah, dumb question. Um, bathrooms are located down the hallway, take a left turn. While you talk to Mr. Johnson, I'll take your suit to the cleaners." You narrow your eyes. "You will not argue."
Arthur holds his hands out in surrender. He grabs his suitcase and turns to leave the room. He abruptly stops and turns to stare at you. He looks a bit uncertain as he looks into your eyes. "You know, I'll be scoping the company out for a few weeks. Would it be a bother if I asked you to-"
You interrupt him before he can continue. "Oh! You want someone to give you our company's reports? Sure!" you reply with a smile, hoping that the reports would be a peace offering for possibly ruining Arthur's suit (and slightly burning him alive).
You notice Arthur's smile twitch. "Uh, okay." He turns around to go to change, and as he leaves you hear him mumbling under his breath. Once he fully exits, you flop down into your chair and hit your head against your desk, groaning. Oh, what a mess you've gotten yourself into!
Mr. Johnson's door opens. "Miss _, is everything alright out here?" Mr. Johnson asks. "I heard some commotion going on."
Spinning around, you wave your hands in a denying fashion while shaking your head. "N-no need to worry, Mr. Johnson! I've taken care of everything!"
Mr. Johnson raises and eyebrow at your statement. "Once the representative comes in, just show him right into my office, alright?" He closes the door before you can give him a response.
You place your head back onto the desktop. All you can think of is the great screw-up you made with the British representative that could decide the future you have in this company (read:employed).
"What a great first impression I made," you grumble, getting back up to grab the paper towels. After all, you can't exactly call a janitor down to mop up that puddle in the hallway without admitting what happened with Arthur.