Disclaimer: Hetalia and Warehouse 13 belong to their respectable creators.
Okay guys, so it turns out I'm still alive! …Somehow… College is a pain, man. XD But anyway, right! This month is NaNoWriMo, yes? I've been doing ten-minute writing sprints to a random room generator off of .net, and gotta say, it's pretty helpful-one of the results from the generator (the source of my exercise) is the thing at the top in quotations and italics. But yeah! So I noticed that there is a very serious lack of fanfiction in this crossover, which saddens me greatly when there's really so much potential. Now before you start hating, as an England roleplayer, I'll confess that I like a lot of the popular pairings as much as the next fan. However. This is a cross-headcannon of mine that's also one of my favorite ships. I've wanted to write something to this pairing for a long time, so enjoy the drabble~
"It's a cavernous room, but quite bright. The walls are cheerily splashed in dark rose, broken up by heavy, deep amethyst curtains on the windows."
Sunlight filtered in through the heavy, deep amethyst curtains over the tall windows, providing just enough light for the woman as she fixed her hair in the vanity mirror. She was dressed rather odd for a woman of the period-a white-buttoned shirt and a dark buttoned vest with even darker pants-but still rather elegant regardless. But of course, she could hardly do her job when laden down in those corsets and Victorian gowns, pretty as they were.
A soft moan could be heard from the canopy bed behind her as the man stirred beneath indigo blankets. She smiled, glancing back at the man. "Bonjour, Arthur," she greeted teasingly, echoing the way her French cousins would greet people in the morning.
"Helena…" Arthur mumbled sleepily. "You know I hate French…"
The woman grinned as she walked over. "I know," she replied, fastening the clasp to her locket behind her neck before sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching over to gently ruffle the man's unruly blond hair, only serving to muss it all further. "Hence the joke, dear."
The man sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Heading out so early?" he asked with a yawn.
"Unfortunately, yes," she replied. "It would appear we have a curiosity making people try and order 'the troops' as they are turned into midgets. I suspect it's the hat of Napoleon."
Arthur gave a snort at the suggestion. "Yes, that sounds about right," he said. Giving her an amused yet pitying look, he added, "I'm sorry. Be careful while you're out on the field, will you?"
"As always," Helena replied, walking over to the windows and opening the curtains, causing the bright light of the morning sun to pour in, illuminating the large room in full with its oak floors, oriental rug, bookcases, and dark rose-colored walls that suddenly appeared far more cheery than they did in the room's dimmed state.
"Mmm…" Arthur mumbled, shielding his eyes. "Helena…"
The dark-haired woman leaned forward with a grin. "I'll hold up my end of the bargain and more, of course. You just make sure there's some tea waiting for me by the time I return," she whispered before pulling away slowly with a hint of seduction, pausing to press a kiss on his lips. Before he could respond (how did she always catch him off guard like that?) she gave a grin and headed out, giving a small wave.
"Expect me back no later than noon," she called back confidently as she disappeared through the threshold. "So long as I follow the midgets and mayhem, I'm sure this won't take very long at all."
Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Please leave a review, just don't hate~
