I wrote another oneshot and my friend made me put it up. So I had the urge to write about little Bad Touch Trio and then this was born.
This is AU, Arthur's six and Francis, Antonio, and Gilbert are seven.

Here's to you Manders !

Translations:

Hola mi amigo- (Spanish) Hello friend

Madre- (Spanish) Mother

Salut mon Coeur! Comment ça-va- (French) Hi my love. How are you

Oh mein gott- (German) OMG (pretty much)

Ouais- (French) yeah

Embrasse-moi petit lapin- (French) kiss me bunny

Hope you enjoy these crazy childeren.


In the backyard of the Kirkland residence sits a wonderfully tall oak tree. On sunny afternoons and mild weekends little Arthur Kirkland loved nothing more then to climb it's branches and play within the leaves. The enormous plant provided an escape for the boy where he could be anything he wanted to be. His preferred perch on one of the higher branches was tall enough where he could spy on his four older brothers, who always left him out of their games, and be far enough away so that they couldn't tease him for playing with Flying Mint Bunny and Steve the Unicorn.

Currently he was no longer the small six-year-old Arthur, but instead the brave Captain Kirkland, master of the seven seas. Together he and his valiant crew of buccaneers navigated oceans, searched for treasure, swash buckled, and what ever else it was that pirates did. In his eyes the tree was a majestic ship and the yard a vast aquatic wonder. To anyone else he might look like a small boy wearing a stolen bathrobe and his fathers bowler hat with a feather taped to it, but as far as he was concerned he was a ruggedly good looking man in dashing pirate garb.

Lost in his fantasy Arthur turned to his imaginary crew and shot them a cheeky grin.

"Avast me hearties! The sea can be a fickle mistress, but if ya' lads know how ta' handle her-"

"Hola mi amigo!"

"Bloody what!"

Out of nowhere a small Spanish boy appeared sitting in front of Arthur. Antonio smiled at the Brit, but Arthur recognized the malice that seemed to twist his expression ever so slightly. They had never really been on the best of terms and the outcome of last weeks pond-boat battle hadn't helped.

"Did your Madre let you dress yourself today, because you look kinda funny?"

Sneering at the Spaniard, Arthur answered.

"You know I'm a pirate so don't even start."

"Are you sure you're mot some hobo pimp thing?"

"Yes! Wait a minute, why are you even in my tree!"

"To enact my sweet revenge upon your soul."

As Antonio said this in a sickly sweet tone a dark aura, not to different from the one commonly found around the Russian boy down the street, came to rest over his features.

"W…what?"

Within an instant Antonio returned back to his normal bubbly disposition.

"I'm up here so I can help Francis up."

Reaching over the side of the branch the Spanish boy extended both arms to the boy below them, whom Arthur had failed to notice. The sophisticated looking blonde took each hand in one of his own and swung up onto the branch, some how managing to use Antonio's arms like a trapeze. When he landed on the branch Francis' beaming face was about two inches from Arthur's

"Salut mon Coeur! Comment ça-va?"

"EEEGAHHH!"

With a none too manly shriek Arthur fell onto his butt and began to scurry away from Francis. After a few seconds Arthur regained his level head and glared at the pair in front of him.

"Where is the third demon child?"

Arthur may only be six, but he was smart enough to know very important rules to life, like don't go into a Swiss person's backyard or steal dolls from Polish boys. Another essential fact he had learned was that bad friends always travel in threes.

Ever since the Bonnefoy family had moved into town two months ago Francis, Antonio, and Gilbert had been inseparable. Together they had caused more mayhem and awkward moments than naked senior citizens at a wedding. Even his brother Duncan admitted they were weird, and Duncan refuses to wear pants! Ok so he did wear the kilts their grandfather in Edinburgh sent him, but still he's weird in Arthur's opinion, which made the other boys that much crazier in comparison.

"The awesome me is right here!"

Arthur looked up as the leaves above him shook. Within seconds Gilbert appeared swinging upside down from a higher branch.

"What ya' doin' oh Arthur the cranky? Playing sparkly unicorn again?"

"NO!"

"Aww give him some credit Gilly."

Leaning forward on the tree limb he now straddled, Francis playfully flicked Arthur's nose.

"He was pretending to be a cute little pirate again."

"Don't. Touch. Me. Frog."

In spite of the Brit, Francis smiled and continued to poke his face, causing Arthur to redden in anger.

"Aww look Francis he's like your own little Lovi~"

"HA! He's like some girly little girl!"

Eventually after five minutes of coddling and laughing Arthur snapped.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY TREE!"

Sitting back upright Francis uttered a disapproving tisk and wagged his finger.

"Arthur! A small child like you should not be using such foul language. What would your mother say?"

"I'll say what ever I want to say!"

"Not if I say you can't."

Crossing his arms in his traditional pouting gesture, Arthur shot the small Frenchman the dirtiest look he could muster.

"You're only a year older then me froggy! You can't tell me what to do!"

"Oh yes he can! Franny's awesome! In a weird French sort of way."

"And Francis isn't some deranged small child who plays with imaginary creatures and takes out his anger at his own faults on a group of people he sees as the perfect model of popularity."

Simultaneously the three other boys looked at the Spaniard who was casually eating a tomato with a look of hatred on his face. Sensing their gazes Antonio looked up at the three blank faces and smiled like he hadn't just physiologically analyzed Arthur.

"Umm… Francis is pretty, Gilbert is awesome, and Arthur is weird."

Slightly frightened by Antonio the boys averted their gaze and did their best to forget him.

"Dude come on! We just came here to play 'cuz ya' know we're friends n'stuff."

As he said this Gilbert tossed a small acorn at Arthur's head. Surprisingly his aim was unaffected by his upside down swinging.

"No we are not friends! You don't want to play with me! You just want to torment me and then steal my pants like last week!"

Instantly the three friends dissolved into a fit of laughter at the shared memory.

"Oh mein gott! Franny that was definitely one of your best."

"Ouais, but it wouldn't have worked without Toni's tomato dance distraction."

Together the boys continues to laugh, Gilbert's fit becoming so violent he had to sit up on the branch so that he didn't fall off. By the time there were finished Arthur's anger level was well above the healthy level for a young boy.

"You idiots obviously have some plan, or else you wouldn't be in my tree. Now tell me before I beat you with a stick!"

"Oh shush would ya' eyebrows. If you really want to know we're here 'cuz I dared Francis."

"A dare?"

Maniacally cackling Gilbert jumped down from his branch and sat behind Arthur.

"Yupp and now Francis' got to do it."

Once again, Francis began to lean towards Arthur, crawling after him as the Brit instinctively moved away. Even though Arthur attempted to escape the approaching boy he soon found that Gilbert blocked his path. Within seconds Francis face was an inch away from Arthur's. Still casually eating, Antonio darkly chuckled at what he knew was to come.

"Embrasse-moi petit lapin."

"How many times do I have to tell you I don't speak frog!"

Without warning Francis closed the gap between their faces and kissed Arthur on the cheek. Making their leave before Arthur could wrap his mind around what had just happened, the three scrambled down the tree and ran across the yard, giggling once more. Not far behind them was the furious Arthur.

"Get back here you bloody gits! You'll pay for that...horrible event! Stop running away and face me like a man!"

Just as Francis ran though the front gate behind the other two, making sure to blow Arthur a taunting kiss, an idea came to the Brit. Changing directions, he ran up the front steps and into his house.

"Hey mum! Do you know where Liam's shillelagh is?"


If you couldn't guess Duncan was the name I gave to Scottland and Liam to Ireland. A shillelagh (pronounced shalaylee) is an knobly stick the Irish use for walking, but as I learned from my Irish great-great grandmother they are also used to beat people whilst crazily shouting in Gaelic. Not that grams ever beat me, but I made sure never to misbehave around her...she was scary.

Anyways thanks for reading :D and I love reveiws :D