Ivan treaded down the flagstone path, up the magnificent marble stairs, and knocked lightly on the door. There was a thud, then a voice rang out from within.

"Ah, just one moment, s'il vous plait!" The door was yanked open to reveal France, dressed plainly (for once), with an apron on. "Ah, Ivan! And to what do I owe this pleasure to?" He nervously wrung his hands, backing away ever so slightly from the man. Though Canada and Russia had been dating for several years now, the vast majority of people (even Matthew's family members) were still anxious talking to him.

"Well," Ivan began, blushing a little as he always did when talking about Matthew "Matvey's birthday is coming up, and I was wondering if you had any suggestions of what he would like for his dinner." A small, menacing glint appeared in the larger man's eye. "It must be perfect, da? And I wanted to make him something really special, more memorable than pancakes, I'm making him that for breakfast you see, but I thought that it would be really neat to make him something French. He's always going on about how wonderful your cooking is, and that he wished that you had taught more of it to him, though you never had the chance. At first I was going to make him something Russian, he's rather fond of Shashlyk, but then I thought that he might appreciate a mixture of two cultures, so I was planning on making Shashlyk for the meat, but then I realized that I don't know any French food other than the kind that he makes, and none of the recipes that I found made sense." Here he pouted for a split second before continuing. Francis grinned, who knew that Russia could be so cute? The man was shifting from foot to foot with excitement and agitation. Normally, France knew, only Canada would be able to see this, not menacing, side of Russia but desperate times call for desperate measures. And to him, anything involving Matthew was important. Ah, his little Canada was so lucky to have him…

"So I decided to come to you for advice, but then on the way to France I realized that, even if I learned how to make French food, I can't help with being, ah… um… prejudiced? Da, that's the word. Prejudiced against snails and things like that. So then I thought to ask you for some help on figuring out what to make him, so" he gestured weakly at France's house "here I am." He finally finished his tirade, blushing when he realized how he had just rambled on, something he would usually never do. France, with great difficulty due to Ivan's height, slung his arm around Russia's shoulders.

"Ah, well than you have come to the right man! Come come, I'll teach you everything that there is to know about the world's greatest cuisine!" He led the other nation into the kitchen, more than happy to help his son's boyfriend prepare the most wonderful dinner for his favorite son.

Russia left France's house with a wave and a shudder. At first it had been fine, he even was able to ignore France's flippant and perverted jokes, it was all for the sake of his love after all. But once the cooking advice was completed, France insisted on giving him a glass of wine (it was quite a funny picture, Russia sitting nervously on the edge of his chair, a dainty glass filled with red wine dwarfed by his hand. For when the time came, and Russia had the feeling it was coming really soon, he would have to call this man father. It would be within his best interests to remain on his good side) and forced the Russian to remain for another thirty minutes, demanding that he remain and listen to his additional advice. To Russia's horror, his advice consisted of sex positions and tips. No matter how much he tried to ignore and escape from the man, his attempts failed and he had to listed to France ramble on about how successful this was, and how it had made (Russia deliberately blocked the name from registering. The woman (or man) deserved some privacy at least) quiver with pleasure. When he was finally allowed to leave, France slipped something into his pocket, saying to use it wisely, and to remember his advice with a suggestive wink. Though he was afraid to look at his… present, curiosity took over and he tentatively pulled it out of his coat before throwing it into the nearest trash bin with a shudder.

'Never…again am I going to that man for advice.' Russia vowed silently, climbing into his car and pulling away with a screech. 'Now on to stop two.' Russia had managed to sneak away from Canada by saying that he was going to go visit his sisters (Ukraine was in on the deception and had agreed willingly to say that he had indeed visited), and since Ukraine was closer to England than Canada was, Matthew had entrusted Ivan with a package to deliver to Arthur. Though he didn't know what was inside the box, Russia could assume that it had something to do with Alfred's birthday. Pulling up to the Brit's house, he climbed reluctantly out of his car and up the steps, ringing the doorbell. Arthur had to be Russia's second most hated relative of Canada (America was obviously first) because of his tendency to forget about and ignore Matthew.

"Coming!" The door was opened to reveal an obviously flustered Arthur. His face was flushed, and his cloths were wrinkled, even buttoned incorrectly in his haste to put his shirt back on. The sight was enough to make Ivan raise his eyebrows in bewilderment before thrusting the package into England's hands.

"It's from Canada." The confusion clearly displayed on Arthur's face increased with the name.

"Who the bloody hell is Canada?"

"Your son." Ivan rudely turned around, stalking back across the yard. His patience, already stretched thin by France, had disappeared in a heartbeat. Ivan was tired and annoyed with Arthur forgetting his son. Who could? He was just so perfect, cute, even seductive at times, and had such a marvelous personality too. Not to mention that his pancakes and cooking in general were God in disguise.

'Wait... if people normally forgot about his birthday completely (Russia had to listen to Canada rant about how everyone forgot his birthday every year before putting his anger to better use on the hockey rink or upstairs in bed) then what could be a gift better than having everyone show up for a surprise birthday party?' Russia giggled maniacally 'and if they decide to forget or not come then I'll just have to drag them there, da?'

"." Russia kolled down the street, windows down to let the wind blow through his hair. Yes, this was going to be a perfect birthday present indeed.

Russia pulled into Ukraine's driveway. As one of Canada's best friends, his sister would be the perfect one to plan his surprise with. Originally the nonexistent visit was just an excuse to come to the European area, but it would me much easier to discuss things face to face rather than over the phone.

"Brother!" A large shape bounded out of the house, accompanied by the usual sound of bouncing. Ecstatically Ukraine glomped Russia, glad to see him again. Ivan, however, was less than amused to find himself being suffocated by her farmland. Nonetheless, he was happy to see his sister again as well, and he returned the hug gratefully. "What are you doing here? I thought that you were going to visit France to ask for advice!" Suddenly she released him, taking a step back so she could glare at him in the eyes "Don't tell me you chickened out Vanya." Whenever it came to Matthew Katsuya was like an overprotective mother.

"Don't worry sister, I already visited both of his parents." Truth be told he had another reason to visit them, but that was his little secret. "But England had forgotten who he was again-"

"Did he now…" an evil glint rivaling Russia's popped out from her, startling Ivan, who honestly didn't think that his older sister could hurt a fly. "Well, I'll just have to change that."

"N-no!" Russia hurriedly grabbed her arm before any harm could be done. "It actually gave me a really good idea." She looked at him curiously, wondering where he could be going. "What if we gave him a surprise birthday party, and forced everybody to come?" Realization dawned upon her as she quickly understood his reasoning. "Besides he always is being forgotten, so if everybody shows up then that would mean-"

"That they remembered his birthday! Ivan this is perfect!" He smiled, glad that she agreed with him, as she hopped excitedly while clapping her hands. "The only problem is that people would fail to remember his name, but if we strung banners across saying 'Happy Birthday Matthew' then nobody could forget, or if they did then they could read the signs!" Immediately the siblings began preparations, deciding that it would be at Canada's house (they would have to set it up while Russia distracted Matthew out in town) from eight to twelve pm, and to keep it a secret from everyone but Japan, (the only one they could trust to not have a single slip of the tongue) who they needed to make the miniature decorations. Days passed, the preparations keeping the three busy with work. They had sent the invitations to everyone except Alfred (they asked England to drag him along because there was no way America wouldn't let the cat out of the bag) the week before. Russia had decided to make him breakfast and lunch, using the excuse that they were going to eat out as a way to get the Canadian out of the house. It was the night before Canada's birthday, and the smaller country seemed to sense that something was going to happen. Thankfully he didn't bring it up with the larger man, but let him know that he was suspicious through other, less obvious ways.

The next morning Matthew woke up smiling, to the delicious scent of pancakes and maple syrup wafting in from the kitchen. A grin spread across his face as he leapt out of bed, racing towards the kitchen without even bothering to change. He soundlessly skidded to a halt in the doorway of the cookery. Russia was expertly flipping pancakes, clad in black slacks, a lavender shirt that hugged his torso, and a navy blue apron to protect his cloths from harm. Stealthily, the Canadian crept across the kitchen, hugging the Russian from behind and nuzzling his back.

"What's this?" Matthew inquired, though he knew perfectly well the reason why Ivan was cooking him breakfast.

"Happy birthday, Matvey!" Canada could hear the smile in his voice. Reluctantly he moved away to not impede the Russian's movements.

"You remembered."

"But of course! What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't remember your birthday?" Quickly, so as to not let the food burn, Russia turned around and kissed Canada deeply. "It's finished." Turning around he placed the last pancake on a plate, leaving the pan in the sink and carrying the platter over to the table, setting it down gently in the middle. They sat down, Canada spearing three of the hotcakes and drowning them in maple syrup while Ivan watched, amused and glad that his lover enjoyed his cooking so much, before grabbing his own. For a while they chatted then, when the plate was empty, Russia told Canada of his plans for the day.

"Well, I already made breakfast, and I was planning on making lunch, then we could go out, walk around and perhaps shop some, then eat an early dinner out." Russia looked expectantly at Matthew, hoping that he would have no objection to an evening in town and was rewarded with a grin and a nod.

"Of course, sounds fun! I'll do the dishes" he replied, standing up.

"No." Ivan frowned, rising and leaning over the table to push him back into his seat. "It's your birthday, and I want to spoil you rotten."

"Well, if it's my birthday and I want to do the dishes, you dam well better let me do the dishes, eh?" Matthew teasingly demanded, grinning at the larger man. Grumbling, Ivan consented, instead going to pull out the ingredients to prepare for lunch and then shooing Matthew out into the other room so he could cook in secret, distracting him with a brand new hockey and Assassin's Creed game. Soon enough lunchtime had come and passed, now only dishes in the sink and leftovers in the fridge as the couple departed for town. With Kumajiro clutched safely in Canada's arms, Ivan locked the door behind them (He had given Ukraine a spare) and they walked the two and a half miles to town in a comfortable silence. They, at first, went to their usual places then paid a visit to the new mall. At last, they were left to wander around the parks and, for lack of anything better to do before dinner, Russia and Canada made their way to the oldest hockey stadium in the town.

"Do you remember this place, Ivan?" Canada inquired, glancing around the empty hockey rink.

"Da, our first date was here. Though it was a lot more crowded then." Matthew chuckled in agreement, stepping carefully out onto the ice, boots gripping firmly to the slippery surface, with an encouragement from Russia. "We must go to the middle, da?" Confused, Canada could only nod in baffled acknowledgement, treading across the rink, followed dutifully behind by his lover.

"Now what?" Canada stood in place at the center of the rink, waiting for something to happen.

"Well…" Russia fidgeted anxiously "I don't want to come here anymore the way we are now…" Canada started in shock.

"W-what?"

"I-I mean that I do not want to come here as boyfriends anymore." Russia averted his eyes from the Canadian, instead preferring to look at the ground, reaching into his coat before fluidly sinking to one knee. "What I mean to say is… Canada, my dear Matthew, it would make me eternally happy if you would, instead, prefer to come as my forever husband." Tears of sorrow at the thought of Russia breaking up with him were replaced with drops of joy. Russia opened his hand, inside was a black ring box, resting delicately on top of his callused palm. Somehow, the Russian had flipped it open with one hand, revealing the beautiful ring nestled inside. It was a white gold band with a sparking blue diamond situated in the middle, two white diamonds on either side. Canada's trembling hands rose to cover his mouth in surprise, tears landing on the ice next to Russia.

"R-Russia..." His voice broke. "O-of course, I would be m-more than happy to m-marry you." Canada knelt in front of him, deftly plucking the box out of his hand with jittering hands. He was shaking so badly it actually fell out of his grasp, to be caught safely but Ivan and slipped gently on his ring finger before the two shared a tender kiss.

Slowly the couple made their way back home after a fulfilling dinner, enjoying the warmth of the sun's rays beating down on them. The house looked the same; there was nothing out of the ordinary to alert the Canadian of the surprise that was lurking behind the closed door. Even America, for once, was quiet and hiding under the table. All of the countries waiting with bated breath for the door to open. They tensed as a key turned in the lock and the door swung open.

"Surprise! Happy Birthday Canada!" Canada's jaw hit the floor with shock.

"The hero is here too!" America jumped onto table, nearly upsetting the punch bowl and causing the chips to overflow into the salsa. "Happy birthday Mattie!"

"KESESESESESE! I'm the awesome one, not some wannabe hero! Happy birthday Birdie!" Rather roughly Gilbert shoved Alfred off the table and right into Arthur, knocking them both off their feet, collapsing in a rather unruly pile on the ground. "And here's your totally awesome present, from the awesome me. Open it!" Dutifully Matthew tore open the paper, revealing a ceramic Kumajiro with Gilbird resting gently on his head. It was unexpectedly thoughtful, last year he had given Canada a book explaining the reason behind the awesomeness of Prussia, and why Germany should actually be called Prussia. Needless to say, the book was sitting (still in its wrapping) on his bookshelf. This gift, however, was to be proudly displayed on Canada's desk, the only thing on there that was unrelated to work other than a picture of him and Ivan.

"Thanks Gilbert…" Canada, who was unused to people seeing him, had to overcome his usual stuttering and quiet voice in favor of a more Alfred like approach, Ivan and Katsuya watching contentedly like parents, proud that their 'son' was so happy, as he was now crying tears of joy. It was indeed, the best birthday present anybody, could have given him.

AN: sooo... Yeah. This is my celebratory fic for Canada. Happy Canada day! I hope you liked it. I just kind of messed around a lot with Russia (nyah, forgive me!).I figured that since he had been going out/ practically living with Canada for several years now I didn't need to attempt (and fail) at writing with a Russian accent. Kuma kind of disappeared during the proposal scene, eh? Ah well, he decided to try to go ice fishing. In a hockey rink.

Canada's Ring (take out the spaces): h ttp:/ww suncove /view /51127/_Blue_Dia mond_Ring

It might be girly, but he would just wear it for very special occasions, instead wearing a ring like Ivan's (h ttp:/w ww. nsngold. com/hawaiia n_wedding_rin g_).