Prompts: Christmas/Free for all, G8 (group of 8) nations with France flirting with any/all of them

A Case of Mistaken Identity

There was still plenty of time before the world meeting began so France decided to mingle with the rest of the early nations. He walked around the large meeting room, keeping an eye out for someone he could talk to.

The people he usually talked to were too busy; England was shouting at America about something ("The next time I catch you doing that, I am never letting you back into my house!"), Prussia was also out (he was whispering something into Germany's ear, making him turn a brilliant red), and Spain was trying to get Romano to stop throwing things at him.

France sighed dramatically. All the other nations also seemed to be doing something that didn't welcome conversation and France was left pouting in one corner.

He was about to give up—even Russia was preoccupied with talking to Ukraine and Belarus—when the doors opened and Canada stepped into the room. He seemed exceptionally cheerful as he made his way towards his chair.

France smiled—his smile was more of a smirk, really—as he walked towards his former colony. "Good morning, Canada," he said cheerfully, pulling out the chair beside the bespectacled nation's and sitting down.

Canada blinked up at him—strange … the other nation seemed shorter than usual—as if he wasn't quite sure who France was before his expression turned into one of recognition. "Ah! Perverted bastard France! Good morning to you too!"

France was completely shocked. Did Canada just call him a bastard? He blinked a few times at the other blond. Canada's head was tilted to one side as if he were waiting for France to say something. He shook his head slightly. Canada must have been spending too much time with England lately.

He leaned towards Canada, propping his chin on his hand, his elbow on the tabletop. "Tell me, sweet Canada, what have you been up to lately?" he purred, letting his eyes go half-lidded. Delighted at the pink blush that appeared on the younger nation's cheeks, he leaned in even closer. "Come on, you can tell me. Let us catch up; we have not been able to see each other lately."

Really. Canada was adorable when he was embarrassed. France couldn't help himself and ran a hand down Canada's arm before placing it over the other blond's hand. "What's wrong?" he asked, tone teasing.

"S-stop that!" Canada squeaked, pulling back from France's touches. He clutched his polar bear against his chest tightly, though Kumajirou didn't make any sound of protest.

"No need to be so shy," France said, voice low and sultry as he tugged playfully on Canada's curl.

Which promptly broke off.

France stared at the curl in his hold, jumping when a large hand suddenly landed on his shoulder. He glanced over his shoulder nervously, swallowing thickly when he saw Sweden looming behind him.

"Wh't're y' doin' t' S'lan'?"

"Ahaha, it is just a misunderstanding," France said weakly as he stood up. He attempted to extricate himself from the iron grip on his shoulder but Sweden clamped down even tighter, his eyes narrowing.

Sealand—who'd abandoned his eyeglasses—ran into Finland's arms. "Fin-papa, he was being creepy!" he wailed, burying his face in Finland's stomach.

Finland stroked Sealand's head comfortingly before looking up and smiling at Sweden. "Su-san, can you take care of France-san for me?"

Sweden grunted, his hold on France still firm.

Canada sighed and lay back in bed. England had forced him to stay at home after finding out that he had a fever. "You're not going to the world meeting in the shape you're in!" the older nation had said sternly.

Canada supposed that England was right; he probably wouldn't be able to contribute much at all in his state. Sighing, he pulled out his cell phone to send France a text message saying that he wouldn't be able to make it.