This is dedicated to Miggery, who's an awesome PruCan writer and the reason I took enough time to drag a document all the way to the Doc Manager. Some of my (little) personal headcanons are in here, so be aware. Infodump at the end of the story.
Matthew was sitting at an outside table at a little café when he first saw her. At first, it was just a passing glance, his mind barely noticing her before getting filed away in the "Unimportant" section of his mind. And then, everything slowed. She was suddenly the best thing he could see for miles. His brain frantically rifled through its "Unimportant" folder before finding her and carefully placing her in the "Most Important Thing in My Life Right Now" frame.
Even though all countries were sexually ambiguous, some preferred to align themselves more specifically, like Sweden being gay for his beloved Finland. Matthew personally found himself more attracted to men. But this woman, she changed everything. She was perfect. Hips, breasts, legs, face, ass, it was like she was made to draw everything with eyes specifically to her. And the way she held herself, it was like she knew just what she looked like and she was damn proud of it.
A dangerous smile. That glint in her eyes. That seemingly careless hair flip. Matthew was very aware that he was staring, and drooling, but he couldn't stop himself. Everything about her drew him in. The be-ribboned bird on her shoulder gave a tweet, and she laughed. It was deep, throaty, and oh-so-alluring. Not even bothering to pretend he was reading his newspaper, he discarded it and set his head in his hands. And stared. As his eyes trailed over her body, he realized something about her seemed so… familiar.
She was prideful, that was apparent. Matthew felt that familiar jealously trickle into him whenever he saw an especially confident person. This jealously was a rather common feeling… That trickster's sparkle in her eyes was something that attracted him, to her and this… someone else. That coloration definitely raised a couple flags in the Canadian's love-struck brain. It was, of course, too muddled to even consider them and hurriedly brushed them away. That bird was definitely something he saw on a weekly basis. But where, where, where? Matthew's eyes clouded over and his mind slipped off to This-Woman-World, and the woman drew closer and closer.
Her eyes flickered over to him, and she smiled. Cockily. Smugly. That vixen knew what she was doing, and she enjoyed it. She swayed her hips with a little more purpose, pushing her breasts up just a little. She casually trailed a hand down her left cheek. Was that a scar? Matthew suddenly found scars to be utterly sexy. The mystery woman flicked her long blue coat out behind her and bent down to redo the laces on her thigh-high leather boots. Turned to the side, Matthew got an eyeful of her red, silky panties. He suddenly had a very detailed mental image of himself straddling her, her clad in sinful red lingerie and those boots of hers. She straightened up, re-adjusting her black gloves, skirt, and the brown strap across her chest. Pulling a -a walking stick, was that? - from her right hip, she began twirling it and whistling jauntily. Dexterity and musical ability? Matthew was quickly falling in love.
By now, she was almost at the edge of the café. The poor blonde man started to panic. What would he do? Could he even attempt to talk to her? He tried to force a few experimental words out of his throat. Nothing. He really started to freak out. What was he going to do? He couldn't very well just let the woman of his dreams walk past him. What if he said something and she didn't even hear him? What if she laughed at how pathetic he was? By this point, she was three tables away from his. Two…One…
Before he could even open his mouth to wimpishly stutter out something to say to her, she stopped. Grabbing the back of the chair across from Matthew, she leaned down and whispered in that husky, oh-so-sexy voice of hers.
"Hi Matthew." Said Matthew stared owlishly up at her. A… Germanic accent? That was definitely ringing some really huge mental church bells, he just couldn't hear them.
"I-I don't m-mean to be rude, b-but d-d-do I k-know you?" She pouted childishly.
"Matthew, you don't know me? I'm hurt." The Canadian gaped at her.
"I t-think I would remember m-meeting someone as beautiful as you," he blurted. As she smiled cattily, he blushed like there was no tomorrow. She laughed that deep, lovely laugh of hers and slipped onto Matthew's lap, squeezing his red cheeks. Feeling her against him, the blue-eyed man's brain went into overdrive, frantically trying to remember anything about this woman.
"Could you tell me your name? T-to refresh my memory?" the Canadian asked.
"Julchen. Hm, Julchen and Matthew. I quite like that," she purred. If Matthew had been standing up, his knees surely would have given out by now.
"I'm so sorry, but I really c-can't say I recall you. Could you give me a hint?"
She hummed thoughtfully. "There's a place in you that's named after me. Right here, is it?" She was brushing her fingers over Southern Ontario. That had nothing to do with her. Oooh, she knew he was a country, which narrowed things down a lot.
"One of my more recent kings, King Georg Frederich Ferdinand, more commonly and incorrectly known as Fernidad Frederick, is often said to have been born in Winnipeg, Manitoba. Which is a total lie, but people still believe it." Seriously? That wasn't very helpful anyway.
"You devoted a lot of your time to reporting on me and my little fight in 1870 and 1871." Shitshitshit, what happened back then? A…war was it? Was HE in it? No, it was between two countries in Europe. Now Julchen was starting to get impatient. She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips.
"I will give you ONE more clue, and that's it. The 1st Hussars were named after ME." Matthew thought they were just called-wait. They were called something else... The cogs in Matthew's brain very reluctantly started turning as soon as Julchen stood up. Too slowly, though.
"Honestly Matthew, I give you the blatant-est clues possibly, considering our extremely limited history together, and you can't even figure it out?" Julchen ranted, staring Matthew down. Her face immediately changed, getting less angry and more thoughtful. She turned away, one hand on her chin and the other still firmly attached to her hip.
"I thought you were sharp Matthew. More thoughtful and considerate than me." Suddenly, her form started changing. A wider, flatter chest, shorter hair, more muscular arms and legs, she even shrank an inch. Even her clothes shifted, morphing into a dark blue military uniform. Her voice was the last to go, getting deeper, rougher and more accented in the middle of her next sentence. "What kind of man doesn't recognize his own boyfriend?" Where there had once been a smooth, shapely woman named Julchen, there was now an overconfident, still-very-albino man named Gilbert. Matthew's brain immediately shut down again.
"Gilbert! You're not supposed to do that in public!" Matthew hissed, pulling his boyfriend closer. The Prussian just laughed.
"I was thinking since you've never seen Julchen before, why not see her now? Besides, there's no one here, that was all foryou." As Matthew looked around, he realized that there was actually no one here. Everyone at the café and the shops across the street had left or were just out of sight right now. The angry ex-girlfriend of embarrassment slapped Matthew's cheeks red once again.
"It was awesome to see you drooling over me. So was you having no idea who I was or what to say. You're so cute when you're babbling incoherent nonsense," Gilbert said, chuckling.
"Y-you shouldn't do those things in public!" Gilbert rolled his eyes and pulled up Matthew's chin with a finger.
"But didn't my little birdie think it was sexy?" he whispered.
"Undeniably," Matthew whispered back. Gilbert pulled away and sat down in the other chair and gestured to Matthew's.
"Good. I can't very well have my favorite little Canadian thinking I'm not sexy, now can I?" Matthew sighed, and picked up his newspaper from its spot in a flower pot.
"No, that wouldn't do for you at all, now would it?" Matthew murmured, shaking the dirt out of his precious newspaper. He and Gilbert simply sat and talked for the rest of the morning, taking comfort in the fact that they had someone to be with, and someone to love.
I try my best to avoid disgustingly fluffy endings. I failed. After I wrote this, I found out some people say Southern Ontario is Matthew's penis. That made me laugh, but it's not the case in this story. The name 'Julchen' has been shamelessly stolen from so many people by so many people that its origins are fuzzy to me now, but I think it originated on tumblr. Or even here, I don't really know.
Clue Number 1: New Prussia, Wilmot Township, Waterloo Region, Ontario, Canada. Not all that special, since some other countries have 'New Prussia's.'
Clue Number 3 (2 is self-explanatory): During the Franco-Prussian War in 1870 and '71, the Western world watched in morbid curiosity as France and Prussia+some other Germans fought, waiting to see if it would blow up into a Europe-wide war. Which it didn't. Canadian Illustrated News devoted a lot of article space to the war, and kept up an up-to-date, accurate and fair description of what happened. It was a super-huge deal. See http : / www . collectionscanada . gc . ca / databases / cin / 001065 - 2070 - e . html and/or http : / en . wikipedia . org / wiki / Franco - Prussian _ War for all the informational stuff.
Clue Number 4: I fucked this one up so bad I'm not even going to try to fix it. It's very wrong, but I need SOMETHING to link PruCan together! Unfortunately, it's practically impossible. PRUSSIA AND CANADA HAVE NO HISTORY TOGETHER, BUT I STILL LIKE THE COUPLE.