Notes: Hetalia is not my own creation...I am just borrowing the ideas. Star Wars is not my idea either...that is the brilliance of Lucas. The story that follows is based on kimchi71399's "100 Day Fanfic Challenge" and LolliDictator's "Unit Manuals", in addition to my original ideas. Hope you enjoy it, and please do leave a review: I love the feedback!

Dramatis Personae (In Order of Appearance, for all Chapters)

Alfred F. Jones (America)

Arthur Kirkland (England)

Daria Prewett

Peter Kirkland (Sealand)

Francis Bonnefois (France)

Leigh (friend of Daria)

Esteban (Leigh's Boyfriend)

Susan (friend to Leigh and Daria)

Susannah Marie West (Texas)

Gilbert Beilschmidt (Prussia)

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo (Spain)

Lovino Vargas (South Italy)

Matthew Williams (Canada)

Prologue

"Dude, are you sure this is such a good idea?" Alfred pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and looked at Arthur uncertainly.

"The Frog has had this coming for a loooonnnggg time now," Arthur replied deviously. He opened his spell book and chanted a few words. A blue aura appeared around him, then around a blonde man who was in a drunken oblivion in a chair on the other side of the room. Arthur completed his chant. Prodding the Frenchman who was now fully unconscious, Arthur nodded in satisfaction. "I guess we might as well get the rest of this done with."

Alfred sighed. France could be annoying at times, but he was not sure how he felt about pranking him in this manner. Nonetheless, he reluctantly aided Arthur as the Brit finished his plan.

Chapter 1: Introductions, or What the heck?

I settled into my couch, armed with a bowl of popcorn and a liter bottle of root beer. I was totally ready to start my Star Wars Trilogy marathon. I was between writing assignments, so I figured I owed myself the treat. I munched my popcorn as the opening scrolls played. Just as Darth Vader was walking onto the screen, there was a knock at my door. Really?, I thought. Who the hell could that be?

Grumbling, I answered the door to find a teen in a ludicrous purple uniform with a logo that resembled a mint bunny by his right shoulder standing on my steps.

"A package for a Miss, er," he looked down at his clipboard. "...Miss Daria Prewett?"

"Yeah, that's me," I replied. "What is it?"

"Um, I just need you to sign here, please," the delivery boy gestured at his clipboard.

"Is this a scam?" I inquired. As he shook his head no, I skimmed the form he had given me. Seeing nothing threatening, I signed it before returning it.

The boy ran to a van that somehow resembled his uniform, threw the clipboard in the front seat, then wheeled a large crate over to me on a trolley. "Miss, where can I put this?"

Gaping at the trolley, I stepped aside and gestured to an area just inside my door. The boy wheeled the tall crate in, handed me a leaflet, and went on his way.

Suddenly remembering my movie, I threw the leaflet on the table beside my door and turned to hurry back to the den...bumping the crate in my haste. I somehow bumped it in a manner just enough to cause it to overturn. Helplessly, I watched it fall and prayed that its contents were not fragile.

The crate fell to the floor with a dull thud. A voice from inside the crate cried, "Ughh, zut alors! Pour quoi je suis en un boite?" A fist punched through the fairly thin wood of the crate. The fist was soon followed by a body. The tall man stood up, dusting himself off. Long blonde locks and sparkling blue eyes accented his face that appeared to be no older than thirty. He wore a blue jacket, red breeches, and boots that appeared to be from another time. He was quite handsome, even if his attire was archaic. He scanned the room. Noticing me, he smiled, winked and offered me a rose from his pocket. "Bonjour, mademoiselle!"

I gaped at him for a moment, then regained my composure as I accepted the rose. "Who seriously sent you?" I was not sure, but I had a hunch that my friend Leigh had finally proven true on her promise to send me someone extra special. She had been threatening that she would for nearly two years, just because I never seemed to get dates. I looked at the costumed guy again and shook my head. "Okay, um, let's just go into the living room and I'm sure we can figure something out. And keep your clothes on," I told the man sternly as we made our way to the living room.

"Honhonhonhonhon!" the guy laughed as he sat down.

I shook my head and pulled out my phone. What the heck? I texted Leigh. Did you actually hire a stripper as some sort of joke?

A few moments later my phone buzzed with her reply. Lolol, but no. Why?

B/c there is some random French dude who looks like he is from 1776 or something that was delivered to my house in a bloody crate! I sent back to her.

No, but that is amusing. Have fun! XD, Leigh responded.

I put my phone back in my pocket and facepalmed. "So seriously, what are you doing here?" I addressed the Frenchman. "Who sent you?"

"Mon chère, je ne sais pas, je regrette" He smirked at me flirtatiously. "Mais, je m'appelle Francois Bonnefois. Et comment vous appelez-vous, mon belle fille?"

"You can call me Daria," I replied. "So you seriously have no clue how you got here? That makes two of us then," I said aloud to no one in particular. My stomach growled suddenly, rudely announcing that it was time for dinner. "Mr. Bonnefois, we can figure things out later. I'm going to fix some macaroni and cheese. Do you want some?"

Francis scowled at me. "That is not a proper dinner. Let me cook dinner and show you how real food is made!"

I frowned. Allowing my guest to cook dinner did not seem right, but he was persistent about it. For lack of a better answer, I shrugged. An hour later, I realized that I had made a good choice. Using the meager ingredients in my kitchen, Francis had somehow created the best quiche I had ever eaten. He had even managed to make an amazing cake for dessert. At the conclusion of dinner, I noted the late hour and decided to let Francis stay the night. He seemed nice enough, even if he was a bit too flirtatious.

I showed Francis the bathroom and his room for the night, giving him a pair of shorts my brother had left behind one time to sleep in. I left my guest to get comfortable in his room. After ensuring that there were towels out in the bathroom, I locked myself in my room for the night. There was a lot I needed to record in my journal, for once. Plus, I knew that I could never be too careful with a random person in my house.

Thank you for reading! Leave me feedback please, or else Francis will stalk you! I want to be sure I have characterizations and the French right!