The World Conference was halfway though, and everyone was taking a well-deserved break from the constant bickering and debating. That is, except for the personification of England.
Arthur Kirkland was putting some papers in order, bushy eyebrows squished together in consternation. He hated the fact that nobody—cepting for Germany—ever took the time to clean up or organize anything.
He sighed heavily, pouting as he shoved a large stack of the papers into a file. Due to his concentration and the amount of activity in the room, he didn't notice the eyes of two men focused on him.
One of the men was the personification of the United States of America—Alfred F. Jones—and he seemed to be adjusting his bomber jacket, whilst rehearsing with some flashcards for...something. The other man was the personification of France—appropriately named Francis Bonnefoy. He seemed to have procured a bottle of wine and bouquet of roses from—seemingly—nowhere.
Finally, Arthur straightened, self-satisfied smirk dancing across his features. The two men who had been waiting for this opportunity strode over to the shorter man.
"Yo! Britain!" Alfred shouted, as Francis cooed, "Mon chere!"
Arthur started at their voices, and indeed they both seemed confused as well. The two blond-haired, blue-eyed men had an intense staring contest, causing the emerald-eyed Englishmen to shift uncomfortably.
"Alfred? Francis?" he questioned. And as suddenly as the staring contest began, it broke off as the two participants nodded—apparently reaching a silent agreement.
"What is happening, you gits-"
"Are you an angel?" Alfred questioned first, causing Francis to glare and Arthur to drop his jaw in confusion. "Because I haven't blinked since I first saw your face."
Arthur's jaw dropped further.
Francis quickly stepped forward. "Is that a Sonic Screwdriver in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" Arthur blushed, though his mouth was nearly falling off his face, then.
"I couldn't forget you, even if you were a Silence." Alfred countered.
"Oh yes?" Francis moved in closer to Arthur. "Well, I'm like a Weeping Angel. When you look at me, I get as hard as stone."
The two moved in closer, pushing Arthur against the table even more.
"Iggy, yo' stolen both my hearts!"
"Why don't you come back to my place so we can have some Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey?"
"OH YEAH?! Are you a Tardis? Cause when I look into your eyes I feel like I'm flying around the universe!" Alfred shouted.
"SEXTERMINATE!" Francis yelled back.
"ENOUGH!" Arthur shouted, finally recovering. The three of them were panting, the argument having drained them.
"Now. Why don't you both stop having the most sexy and bloody amazing argument so we can all go and fuck."
Francis and Alfred high-fived at their success. Each grabbing one of Arthur's arms, they dragged him from the meeting room, an echo of "GERONIMO!" the only sign that they had been there.
A/N ... ^J^ ... I hope you liked this!
Thank you for reading, and please review!
