"...And down to business, do either of you know why you're here? France? Russia?"
Francis sighed. "I would not say that I do." And how could he know, when Angleterre had run into his house and dragged him to the Isles along with Russie? Honestly, he hadn't even offered an explanation for his highly erratic behavior. Normally, le petit frère would have nothing to do with him... Very strange.
Ivan simply shrugged and continued alternately killing and smiling at the horde of butterflies that had inexplicably flocked around him. Indoors.
"Not even a clue? An inkling? You haven't the vaguest idea?"Arthur ventured.
"Niet," said Ivan cheerfully.
"Non. But perhaps it is too much to hope for that my dear little brother was merely in need of some, how do you say, company..?" Francis smirked. Oh, well, so what if he didn't know why he was here. He might as well toy with le cherie Angleterre.
Arthur took a deep breath, simultaneously blushing and resisting the impulse to reach across the table and bitchslap that bloody frog bastard. He didn't know why, but every time they were near each other, he just wanted to inflict bodily harm on the fucking bleu-cheese git. But he restrained himself (this time), if only for the sake of professionalism and forgoing awkward mental analogies.
"I want to form an alliance," Arthur announced. Ivan stopped what he was doing (plucking off the wings of one unfortunate lepidopteran), and Francis cocked his head and looked at Arthur.
"With us? With Russie and I?"
Nodding at Francis, Ivan just said, "Frantsiya, comrade, why not? We're all good guys. There's no reason not to form an alliance together, da?"
Arthur began to explain. "Germany's looking shifty lately, isn't he? I think he and Austria are up to something regarding Serbia. So I figured, since you two are on either side of him, and Russia's not been looking too well since that little fight he had with Japan—" Ivan glared daggers at Arthur, stopping any further words regarding the Russo-Japanese war in the Brit's throat. It was a rather touchy spot for Ivan. "Well, sorry, it's true. You don't look well. But, anyway, if we enter this alliance, we can help each other out if those two try anything... shall we say, unsavoury."
"Actually, I have noticed something about Germaniya," Ivan said.
"Oh? What's that?"
"Fucking bastard's been sending his goddamn troops to my western borders," he muttered. An air of menace seemed to descend upon him. The various butterflies and moths disappeared. Francis and Arthur shot looks at each other.
"I'll kill that goddamn fashisty dickhead if he tries anything, I fucking swear to God, da." He smacked his ill-gotten faucet pipe on his hand for emphasis.
"U—um, um. Erm. Yes. Well. That settles it, non?" Francis stammered.
"I—indeed. That does seem to settle it," replied Arthur.
Ivan smiled and nodded, and the lepidopterae returned. He began gleefully pulling the legs off a pitiful gypsy moth.
"Long live our entente," said Francis. He didn't sound hopeful, but then, nobody really did around Ivan, for some reason.
