A/N: This was bound to come out, sooner or later. Written for my rp partner.

Warnings: Fluff, romance and a bit of humour. The BTT gets into trouble, and of course, the Student Council does its best to intervene.

General knowledge (especially for those who haven't read Ocean Blue or A Few Good Men): Alicia Aragon is the representation of the Crown of Aragon, Spain; now known as the region, Aragon. She and Francis were together in their earlier years in World University but have now gone their separate ways – but not separate enough. She has now, however, caught the eye of our favourite albino. And he never takes no for an answer.

Head-cannon: The Student Council is composed of the following –

President – Arthur Kirkland; Vice-President – Francis Bonnefoy; Secretary – Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo

Treasurer – Vash Zwingli (MIA); Regional Representative (Asia and the Pacific) – Li Xiao Chun (Leon)

Regional Representative (European States) – Alicia Aragón

Also, Alicia's sister, Clara Catalonia, makes her debut appearance in this fanfic.

"You three again, eh?" The Student Council President sighed, and ran a hand through his dirty-blond hair. Arthur looked at the three offenders before him, raising an inquisitive eyebrow, "Charges?" He asked the young woman standing beside his desk.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt," The albino grinned toothily, "Punched the lockers, destroying University Property." He scoffed, but didn't deny it.

"Francis Bonnefoy," Francis flew a kiss at the girl, who rolled her amber eyes, "Flirted with the Chemistry professor."

"Oh come now, I'm sure you both already know that-"

"Shut it frog. And?"

"Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo." The Spaniard scratched the back of his head, "… Tried serenading his lover in class."

"Come on, hermana, it was just one-"

"I still don't understand how the three of you can do this." Arthur rubbed his temples, "I already put you on probation last month, and the very week I put you off, you do something crazy like this again." He emphasized the word miserably

"I know I want to do something crazy with you~" Francis was still looking at the girl, but coughed when Antonio's glare hit him.

"You know that I hate it when you do that to my sister and-"

"Alicia." This time, Arthur called the girl and she looked up at the Englishman. Arthur considered her for a moment, biting his lip and tucking stray strands of her hair behind her ears, "I'm sorry to do this to you, pet," he said, "But I'll put you on watch for this trio for the next two weeks."

Something heavy fell in the pit of the young woman's stomach, but she forced a smile and nodded, "Yes sir." She said, "It's no problem, I can do that…"

There's no way I'd be able to properly do that…

Chapter One

Two weeks' worth of probation and a baby-sitter, that's what he gets for doing something measly like punching the lockers. Well, he had to admit, he pretty much made the steel doors crumble, but that wasn't his fault! It wasn't like he wanted for Roderich and Eliza to pass by him in the hall. And it wasn't like Eliza completely ignored him and he got annoyed because they used to be the best of friends, no of course not. There's always a perfectly logical reason to him punching the nearest non-living thing (well, it would have been a living thing but Francis disappeared to flirt with a teacher right before he felt the urge to punch someone) and getting (thankfully) not detention, but a two-week sentence to probation.

So, Gilbert sighed as he turned to Francis, who was busy smiling with a stupid, love-struck expression upon his face. He was looking over the albino's shoulder, so Gilbert figured he'd see what it was that was so interesting.

Strangely enough, it was the young girl that Arthur had been ordering around. Antonio was petting her head, probably muttering a few words of encouragement. She shyly gave the Spaniard a hug, making the Prussian chuckle, before Antonio walked back to them, "A new girl? Do I tell Lovi?" he teased.

Antonio blinked, then laughed, "Ah, amigo, you're always so funny," he said, grinning, "That's my sister."

Sister? "I didn't know you had a sister." Gilbert said, eyes furrowing. He couldn't get a good look at her because she kept turning her back at them. Probably on purpose, "Does she hate us?"

"No…" Antonio was looking at Francis, whose eyes still haven't left the young woman, "… But Francis is making her uncomfortable."

If the Frenchman heard him, he showed no signs of it. However, in annoyance, Gilbert prodded him in the side, hard. And the walls of the blond's imagination went tumbling down, "Ow! Mon dieu!" he glared at his best friend, but because of it, the young girl turned.

She looked at them through glistening amber eyes, hidden behind a pair of rimmed reading glasses. She chuckled a little, making a hint of pink colour rise in her cheeks. She bit her lower lip as she watched them, and the albino could note how adorable she looked as she did. It was even almost as though she glowed. She was still eyeing them curiously when Antonio pulled the Prussian by the collar, glares directed at him as well as their eyes met.

"My. Sister." The Spaniard repeated.

Gilbert only nodded and brushed him off, "I don't shag people unlike Mr. Francey-pants over there, so don't get so tied up about it." But he stole a glance at the young girl again, and she flushed under his gaze this time, before disappearing under her curly black hair as she looked back down at her paperwork.

That was the time that Gilbert noticed that he had been the only one looking at her, and it had caused her to become rather shy.

The trio was finally heading out of the Student Council room when Francis nudged Gilbert, a devilish grin etched upon his face, "Look who's heading this way~" he said in a sing-song voice, "And alone, might I add?"

The albino's crimson eyes shifted left and right down the hallway, and found that the lovely Hungarian, Elizabeta Héderváry, was walking towards their direction. And indeed, she didn't have the aristocratic Austrian along with her. However, before either of the two romantics could get the Prussian to speak to the girl, he fumed and stormed right back into the Student Council Room without another word.

It wasn't like he was angry with her, but more of, he still was angry at himself. Had he only gathered the courage sooner, he wouldn't be dwelling that way in misery. But nobody can change the past.

As kids, he and Eliza were the best of friends. He had very poor skills in recognizing who was a boy and who was a girl, but even after he found out that Eliza was a girl (who often wore make clothing), he still wanted to spend time with her, because to him, it didn't matter if she acted like a boy, or could beat him up, or had a heavier sword. Growing up, he began to realize that he was developing feelings for the Hungarian and she seemed to be reciprocating his feelings. However, she began to trade her trousers for skirts; her shirts, for dresses; and, her swords for baskets with bread and flowers. She began to lose the fire in her eyes and they began to dim down to a flickering flame. But he loved her, oh how he loved her. But the day that he finally managed to tell her, what did she say?

"I'm sorry, Gilbert, but… I can't."

She can't. It had never been a question of whether she wanted to or not. The fact was, she didn't have the ability to. And why? Because she agreed to be betrothed to one of Gilbert's brothers, Roderich Edelstein, that's why. And the truth was Gilbert couldn't hate either of them because of it – because he knew it wasn't their fault. Honestly? It wasn't his either. It was just a matter of wrong time and a wrong circumstance.

So, with all these thoughts running in his head, he groaned miserably and sat down at the opposite edge of the meeting table, slightly startling his only other companion. The President emerged from the inner room, and Arthur was slightly surprised at the return of one out of the trio. He raised a massive eyebrow, but decided against saying anything except to the young girl who was still scribbling off into her paperwork at the other end of the table, "Are you about to finish?" he asked.

"Not quite, I'm sorry," the Romantic replied, "After the newspaper club promised the visibility project, I have to make sure that appropriate measures will be taken about what will be visible to the school and what will stay secure as Student Council information only."

"That's my girl," the Englishman said proudly, giving a pat on the girl's head, "Don't forget to go back after free period, or the PE teacher will have my head." And after looking warningly at the Prussian, he left the office as well.

Gilbert now raised an eyebrow at the girl who still attempted to ignore him to the best of his abilities. But he could see the way her nose scrunched up when she made an error as she scratched out words and symbols, and he restrained a grin before, "Your name," he started to ask, "… Is Alicia, isn't it?"

Her pen stopped writing and her head slowly turned to him, "Yes. Yes it is." She gulped a little, but decided to continue, "And you're Gilbert, one of my brother's best friends. You're Prussian."

"Hey, you know me?" he asked, a slight gleam of happiness shining in his eyes, "How?"

"You-" She paused and cut herself off, deciding that she didn't want to start off that way, "You've been to my house before. I live with Antonio."

He looked at her incredulously, "No, you can't have," he said, taking a good look at her, "I would've seen you."

"Maybe you did, and you just didn't notice me." She argued, obviously not liking how insistent he was.

"I would notice you," He said, staring at her now, "Because you're beautiful."

Well. That shut her up.

In all honesty, Gilbert didn't know what made him say it. Above all things, what he said was true – he thought that she was beautiful. And he wasn't the type of person to deny himself the pleasure of things that were true. Golden-coloured eyes that are often hidden behind locks of long and curly, black hair, and with sun-kissed skin that glowed celestially, it was almost as though he was hit by lightning at the sudden reality that she was, in reality, his type. The fact that she had a 'no-shit' attitude to boot was a big bonus, and he grinned as he thought about it. He thought about her. And he thought that, maybe, he wanted to get to know her a bit more. He even considered getting to even more trouble just so that he could be brought into the Student Council room to see her again – but of course, he decided that, with the reputation he already had, he should go with the safer way of talking to her.

So he walked over to his best friend as they headed towards their next class.

"I don't understand why you'd skip History, you're good at it~" The bubbly Spaniard exclaimed, but the Prussian rolled his eyes.

"I'll pass the test without all the things the old man discusses, but hey Toni, I want to ask you something." Gilbert said, and his statement made emerald eyes blink twice at him, "I want to ask your sister out."

All of a sudden, Antonio's eyes narrowed. The atmosphere turned cold, and as though the rest of the students felt it, they vacated the area. It just so happened that Alicia and Francis were heading out of a classroom together when Antonio's fist collided with the albino's face and he was sent five feet off from where he was standing. Then, the Spaniard huffed and left without another word.

Well. Maybe the Student Council room was a safer choice than what he had expected.

"Dios mio!" After seeing what had occurred, Alicia pushed her binders into the Frenchman's hands and ran towards the Prussian, whose nose was oozing a thick, red liquid. She took a yellow handkerchief from her pocket and gently dabbed against the Prussian's face, "A-Are… Are you all right?" She looked genuinely worried.

Gilbert couldn't help but see a few freckles on her cheeks as she bent close enough for him to touch. He felt a rush of heat against his cheeks, "You're even more beautiful up close."

At first, Alicia pulled away, looking at him, nonplussed. But then a soft chuckle escaped her lips, and she turned to the Frenchman, who pursed his lips as he watched the scene, "Could you tell the teacher that I'm escorting Gilbert Beilschmidt to the Hospital Wing, please?"

Francis muttered under his breath but allowed Alicia to bring the Prussian all by herself. Gilbert didn't complain. And as she held an ice-pack against his face, she eyed the Prussian, "… Why are you saying all this to me?" she asked him.

Gilbert took hold of her wrist and gently set her hand down upon his lap as they sat beside each other on one of the beds, "Don't you think it's true?" he asked her back.

She considered him for a moment, her amber eyes looking into his crimson ones, "There are a lot more prettier girls out there," she said, after a while, "Smarter, sweeter-"

"But that's them. I want to get to know you." Gilbert really wanted a filter for his words now. He was starting to sound really cliché, really romantic, which really wasn't how he usually was. But maybe, it was good.

Alicia chuckled softly, "We can be friends," she said, taking the ice-pack from the hand he was holding so she could feel the warmth of his palms, "But you wouldn't want me, even Francis didn't fight for me."

"Oh?" That piece of information was new to him, "You were one of Francey-pants' one-night stands?" He couldn't believe it.

She fumed at the idea, "I'll have you know I had an actual relationship with that idiot… Once." She added. Gilbert wasn't sure if it was melancholy that made her say it, but there was a hint of disappointment that told him it didn't end the way she had wanted it to end, and that Francis did something to make her feel that way.

"You deserve better than that."

And right at his words, tears streamed down her face. At first, Gilbert panicked: one, because he had never had a girl cry in front of him because of anything he had said before; two, if ever there was ever a girl who had, it was actually a boy (who was Francis), and he gave him a flower which made the stupid blond happy again, and; three, if somebody (who was tan and Spanish) walked into the Hospital Wing and saw that she was crying, he would get more than a punch in the face.

However, Alicia threw her hands around him in a tight embrace, which got him slightly flustered, and even more panicked. He had barely touched a girl before. The girl he thought he touched, wasn't actually a girl (again, Francis). But the boy he had touched, wasn't actually a boy (who was Eliza), so it had maybe occurred only once or twice before.

But this was a poor girl, who sounded broken and beaten up by fate, and needed consolation and reconfirmation. So, rather nervously, Gilbert wrapped his arms around her as well, gently rubbing her back, "H-Hey," he said, chuckling softly, "What's all this about?"

"N-Nothing." She pulled away and sniffled, cheeks flushed pink and tears still in her eyes, "I just… I guess I needed to hear that."

The albino smiled again, reaching out to wipe her tears tenderly, "You're beautiful. And I'll say it over and over again until you believe me."

She laughed a little, a melodious sound, which pleased Gilbert more than he would admit. Then, she offered him a hand, which he raised an eyebrow at, "Let's start from something basic," she said with a smile, "I'm Alicia Fernandez-Carriedo. Most people know me as Alicia Aragon, or Kingdom of Aragon. But I'd love it if you'd call me Alicia."

Gilbert grinned as he took her hand and shook it lightly, "I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt, Prussia, or Preußen," he said to her, "But for you, Gilbert will be fine. Or Gil, if you want it shorter."

"Gil." She repeated, smiling warmly at him now.

He was thankful he stopped himself from talking at that moment. Because it was really good to hear her voice, saying his name. It sounded sweet, almost better than how anyone else would say it.

"Gil…" she said again, and this time he almost thought he imagined it, "Gil?"

He snapped out of his thoughts, "Hm?"

"… My brother broke your nose. Would you like me to snap it back?" She asked worriedly.

After that, he had an epiphany: it would be more painful not to have Alicia in his reach than for her to be putting back his nose into its proper place upon his face. And that was quite painful.

Gilbert Beilschmidt. Prussia.

Of course he was her brother's best friend, there was no way she could forget about him. He always invited Antonio out to go riding in the country-side with his horse, a gallant white steed. And because her brother wasn't a horse-person, she sometimes (well, most of the time) rode out instead of him, on a black horse that was just as fast. He was always challenging her to a race. She would always hold back a bit to let him win – because she knew it made him happy. But she never knew that all those years of hiding from his eyes would turn into this. Would turn into him casting glances at her during Economics, when there was a shortage of fault, and an increase of supply of butterflies in her stomach.

She tried to shake him out of her thoughts. He wouldn't be the first among her brother's charming friends to make her swoon.

"Stop doing that."

She felt herself pulled by the back of her blouse, and she found herself face-to-face against a wall. When she turned, her auburn-haired sister was glaring at her, and holding the books she had left behind, "Honestly. I thought you stopped doing that when you stopped dating the frog."

"I've had enough with the dating, Clara, you know that." But her face showed hints of pink, just at the idea of dating Gilbert.

The Catalan woman narrowed her eyes, "So there is somebody!" she said, "Don't tell me – it's that albino kid that hangs around hermano a lot, isn't it?"

"Clara, calm down-" Alicia tried to say, but her sister towed her away and down the hallway.

"You know what he's like!" she exclaimed, groaning in frustration, "He's trouble, he's toying with you, plus he doesn't even follow the proper dress code!" It almost made Alicia laugh. She actually let the Prussian get away with the minor offense of always wearing his red jacket instead of the official blue ones. She thought it suited him better and brought out his eyes.

"Hello?" Clara, once again, snapped her out of her fantasies, then sighed, "Tell me – what did the git say to you that made you start to like him?"

"I do not like him," Alicia insisted, but when her sister's green eyes turned to her, she bit her lower lip, "He, uh… He said that I was beautiful."

And Clara was speechless, "Gilbert Beilschmidt," she started, "… He said that?"

"Yep."

"About you?"

"Yeah."

"Like, the same Gilbert who used to be fawning over Eliza all the time?"

Alicia bit her lower-lip again here, but nodded and stopped walking so that her sister could see the serious expression on her face, "Yeah. Gil said that."

She didn't know what else there was to say. So, instead of waiting for any other words from her sister, Alicia merely walked away.

At first, she didn't know why it should matter. But then again, it did matter. To her, greatly, in fact. Especially since part of the reason why she was afraid to admit that Gilbert gave her something to feel was the fact that the last time someone made her feel that way, he didn't know how to, say, 'handle with care'.

Francis Bonnefoy could be as romantic as romance could go. He gave the best roses, the sweetest chocolate and planned the most brilliant dates. However, his level of emotional attachment was so questionable that Alicia refused to do anything inside the bedroom with him. And somehow, this challenged him. Finally, when she got fed up, she asked why he acted that way, and he said that the only other woman he loved with all his heart was the only one he didn't get to bring along into the bed with him. And because of that, Alicia felt like a piece of furniture, the same as all those others that he flirted with, but never special enough.

But of course, to Francis, nothing could be farther from the truth. But his comparison of Jeanne to her broke her heart.

She walked out of the hallways and out in the back where the fresh air greeted her. From the back gate, she could see some of the European Nations having a game of football. The two Italians, Arthur, Ludwig, Francis, and even her brother was there, playing. Gilbert was present as the goalie of one team, and seeing him made her lips tug into a small smile.

No.

She wasn't going to do that again.

But he's different.

That was what she thought the last time too.

Being at war with herself, she walked down the sides of the football field, muttering to herself angrily, and sighing in frustration.

She knew that Gilbert Beilschmidt wasn't Francis. She knew that he could be completely different. And maybe, he was exactly what she needed and exactly what she had been looking for. It doesn't help that the man was also physically attractive. But who was she to be noticed by the great Prussia? She wasn't anyone to Francis, so she certainly wasn't going to believe that she was beautiful just because an idiot with white hair said she was.

But he's a cute idiot.

Stop it!

And he went straight to Antonio to ask for your-

"Look out!"

And when she stopped to see what had happened, she saw the black-and-white ball heading straight towards her. She froze where she stood and was unable to fathom if her thoughts should continue moving or she should try to move her legs to avoid getting hit. But she tried. And they wouldn't budge. Almost as though they didn't want to.

Then, she saw a spur of white, and before the ball came bouncing in, she hit the ground – and it wasn't as hard as she thought.

That was when she realized that it hadn't been the ground that she hit, but a person, and Gilbert groaned as he looked at her worriedly, "Are… Are you okay?"

She looked astounded, "Gil, you were half-way across the field!"

"I ran over here to get you." He said nonchalantly, almost as though about twenty-five meters could be covered in that span of time. "I didn't want you to get hurt."

She didn't know what made him do it – if that was honestly what made him do it. But somehow, to her, being there in his arms felt right, felt wonderful, in fact. But she didn't want to admit it. So she sat up, but smiled warmly at the albino who had saved her from getting knocked out by a foul ball. Then, she leaned over to kiss him softly upon the cheek.