Chapter 1: France Has a Plan…Run for Your Vital Regions!

This is a story that originally belonged to Coffee-Flavored Fate as the first chapter of his collection known as Antipasti. The purpose behind this collection was a place to write out his plot bunnies of future stories that he planned to write once he had time. Well… I fell head over heels in love with this concept. I have literally dreamt about this story and so I messaged His High Holiness and begged to have a chance to write my own version of the story. I simply couldn't wait to read the story he had planned so I decided to write my own, with his permission. In his graciousness he granted unto this unworthy soul permission. So yea, the LORD doth decreed! Now, we have kind of agreed that we are using the same basic first chapter of set-up but from there on the paths will diverge so when he writes his version of this story, go read it too. It will be something you enjoy.

Now… about Love Magic Madness… it has not been abandoned. I feel like if I start something else maybe as a change of pace I will feel like writing more chapters for it as well. So do not despair fans of mine from LMM, and no pick-axes, I cannot write under pressure of violence! That does not work with me at all.

Disclaimer: I don't own the original plot bunny, but I do have permission to use the idea and I do not own Hetalia. If I did, maybe I would have money. Alas, I am but a poor college student that is being drowned by homework from teachers that believe if I have a life, the Day of Doom shall come.

ON~WITH~THE~STORY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

France was officially sick of their bullshit.

France was a Nation who stood on a few basic principles: Roses made appropriate underwear, wine was always the best thing to drink, English food was placed upon this earth as a curse from Satan, Love your neighbor (as often and in as many new positions as possible), and fashionable clothing was always a must. Of those principles, a discerning listener may note that "Fighter" was not one of his holy principles; let that dear listener not think it was because the Nation could not fight (France could and would kick an ass seven ways from Sunday if necessary and look fabulous while doing so), but more that he felt love and love-making was the truest way to solve all problems.

However…

His dearest Spain and England were not of such enlightened thoughts.

France let a sigh loose from his lips and fell (gracefully and with poise) into his chair. Even surrounded by the beauty that was his home he could not stop such dark, depressing thoughts from dampening his mood and giving his beautiful face wrinkles. He was truly out of sorts! His cooking lacked its usual verve and his interior decorating and re-decorating had lost its normal siren call. Mon Dieu, even going to look for new fashions and spending outrageous amounts of money on shoes was a bland affair!

Things could NOT continue!

He ran a hand through his (immaculate, clean, and gorgeous) hair before taking a sip of his wine to steady his nerves. Ah… 1550 was a very good year for this vineyard. Now if only he could get two of the most important men in his life to just stop fighting, because he really couldn't take much more of the stress. His poor heart was being torn in two.

On the one hand, there was Arthur Kirkland aka England: his on-again, off-again mortal enemy, his little rabbit, his little Canada's and America's (cause he considered that bright-eyed little colony his too damn it!) other papa, his sometimes lover, and his true soul mate (not that the stubborn little Eyebrow-Delinquent would ever admit that the two of them were destined… ah his little rabbit could be so vexing when he wasn't being adorable).

On the other hand there was Antonio Carriedo aka Spain: one of his dearest friends, his sometimes mortal enemy (life could be so cruel to force dear friends into conflict!), his lazy tomato obsessed Spaniard, and his sometimes insane "friend with benefits" (Mon Dieu! He could still remember that time when Antonio, Gilbert, and he had gone partying near the Rhine and had woken up the next day in a Finnish farmhouse surrounded by animals, specifically lots and lots of ducks. To this day the Kingdom of France could tell any listening ear the exact dimensions of a mallard's phallus and which way it corkscrews… from deep personal knowledge.).

Somehow he was being forced to choose between the two of them because they were both too proud and too stupid to back-down from a fight. They would fight and nearly kill each other and all Francis could do was stand on the sidelines and fret and pray to a merciful God that his soul mate didn't kill one of his best friends or that his best friend didn't kill his soul mate. It was enough to drive him to ripping his hair from his head!

And everyone knows what a devastating blow that would be to the world.

He brought his fist down in anger and leapt to his feet. His frustration was obvious to the various servants round his home and they scurried out of his way so as not to be trampled by their furious Nation. Francis took no notice of the distress of his servants and stormed into his rose garden. Maybe being surrounded by one of his two favorite flowers—the other the fleur de lis of course—would calm his nerves and help him think of a way to get those two pigheaded beasts he held dear to his heart to stop fighting.

A noise caught his attention and he looked behind one of his rose bushes to see a small gathering of his citizens (or children as he liked to call them in his mind). For a short beat he was deeply confused as to why his dear citizens were trespassing in his garden before his excellent memory recalled that one of the smaller nobles had begged him to allow her to throw a mock wedding for her son and a friend's daughter. His angry face softened as he watched the utterly adorable and sweet little mock wedding take place.

Everything was perfect. The cake looked delicious—and apparently tasted the same if the little happy sighs of pleasure were anything to go by. The guests were all dressed up and talking quietly and civilly with each other. The sun was shining giving a perfect atmosphere. Then a piano started to play and the main event began.

Ah… the children were so precious! The little groom looked so regal and adorable as he squirmed a bit in his suit and blushed when he saw the little bride. And the bride! Ah! What sweetness! What innocence! How cute! Francis's heart nearly broke when it swelled too big for his chest as he watched the little party in their small world of happiness.

If only his friends could get along like that…

Wait…

Oh, ho…

HONHONHONHONHONHONHONHON! Maybe they could. After all, they both had children and those two little tykes would look so perfect in their outfits, that Antonio and Arthur would never see it coming. When they both would finally come to their normal bickering and senses it would be too late! Nothing joined people together more than love, and Francis was the Nation of Love for a reason.

YES!

When he was done with everything, those two would have to stop being assholes to each other and finally, FINALLY, get along.

God he was… so… brilliant. He even scared himself sometimes.

~~~~~~~~IMALINE~~~~~~~~~~~IMALINE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~IMALINE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was done.

After months of careful preparations, his plan was ready to be set in motion. He had the decorations, the little (adorable ) outfits for the lucky soon-to-be-married couple (America was going to look spectacular in the wedding dress!) looked trés magnifique, the cake and refreshments had been made, and the special marriage document for binding Nations/colonies/territories together was ready.

France frowned in thought at his checklist, something vital was missing… something that would make or break the event… what was it? The (incredibly handsome) Frenchman stroked his chin in thought, and then it hit him like Hungary with a frying pan: ALCOHOL!

Francis chuckled at his silliness. Those two needed to be good and sauced for this to go off without a hitch and he had been working his beautiful fingers to the bone these past three months—there was no way on heaven, hell, or earth that this wedding was not going off perfectly.

As he walked into his pantry he began pulling out the final ingredients to mix into his refreshments to serve his guests. Just as he finished the final preparations, a servant came in to tell him that Spain had arrived. France nodded and shoed the servant away, he didn't want any of his children around today while he set up lasting world peace with the Power of Love.

As he picked up the tray filled with spiked refreshments, a dark look came across his gorgeous face and he cackled… it always felt so good when a plan came together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~IMALINE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~IMALINE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

France collapsed onto his couch. Joy spread through his veins to try and counteract the tiredness he was feeling. It had been a success. Both Arthur and Antonio had been tucked in for the night to sleep off their alcohol-induced idiocy (and let the Lord be his witness, he will never try to get those two drunk around each other again… or at the very least not in his home!) and the little newly-weds were sleeping soundly as cherubs in their bedrooms, they were a little too young for the normal, ah, first night of wedded bliss.

France managed to drag his tired body up and over to his special chest. It would be a safe place to keep his precious little Romano's and America's marriage decree. It had been some nasty work trying to disguise the thing enough that it looked like a normal human marriage document while still keeping it with the binding power of a marriage between two States. Francis grunted in a sardonic fashion as he delicately placed the document in its new home, he really need not have bothered with disguising it—Antonio and Arthur had both been so drunk by the time of the actual wedding that they wouldn't have realized it was real if the damn thing had been shoved in their faces accompanied by every wood instrument in the universe playing at full strength!

He closed and locked the chest before placing it back it its hiding spot. He stretched and headed for bed… but not before looking with a great deal of distress and anguish at what was once his immaculate and beautiful yard. The servants would have their work cut out for them in the coming weeks.

With that final thought, France headed to get some well-deserved sleep.

~~~~~~~IMALINE~~~~~IMALINE~~~~~~IMALINE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~IMANLINE~~~~~~~~~~

After the house was quiet and all the candle lights and fire lights and little lights here and there had been put out, Tony came out of his hiding spot. The little grey alien had collected the necessary picture documentation records of this event and would use his time-traveling device to return to his proper time. He had been paid quite handsomely by a certain Albino ex-Nation to gather the pictures from the past and make them into a PowerPoint slideshow—Tony shook his head in sadness, here he was, one of the greatest scientists his galaxy had ever seen and his talents were being used in putting together slideshows! If only America wasn't so sweet and cute, he would have blown this chunk of rock and dust so many THERJUSTSITCS ago it wouldn't even have been funny!—because apparently the aforementioned albino could only use computers for pornography searches, video games, and typing in his blog.

Of course, Tony hadn't only gotten the pictures for his employer. He was going to keep a few for his collection of Americana that America didn't know about… and never ever would.

So the last waking… individual left in his time-travelling device to get help spread chaos in the future.

And all was quite in a little chateau in Southern France.

~~~~~~~~~~ENDOFFIRSTCHAPTER~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~XD~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thus it begins! I hope everyone enjoys this story. What twists and turns will come? How about a peak?

For next chapter: Prussia goes snooping in old chests and finds certain documents, flashbacks happen with frightening regularity, and two Nations find out that they were not as single as they thought… and England tries to strangle France, but we all knew that was going to happen.

Tune in next chapter for more excitement! Love you all!

Much Love,

91REDROSES