Characters/Pairings: FrancexJeanne and FrancexCanada for now~
Rating: G for now~
Warning: None for this chapter~
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia
France can honestly say that he can list his close friends on one hand. First and closest to him, there was England. Even if the two of them fought almost constantly deep down they were friends. Albeit not ones that would ever admit it but it was there. If you looked close enough. Second, there was the Northern Italy brother. He doted on the boy, be it in strange ways, but he did nonetheless. Third, there was Prussia and Spain. The three of them together had been dubbed the bad touch trio. No more needed to be said.
And last, there was Canada. He had practically raised the boy. Especially since while England had been raising America, the smaller, shyer boy had been left on his own.
Canada, on the other hand, could list the amount of close people he had an equal number of appendages. First there was Cuba, the man who sometimes had a hard time determining if he was Canada or America but truly did care about the curly haired brother. Second, there was his brother. Even if they America took advantage of him at every possible chance and demanded the most outrageous things, he knew he could count on Alfred if he needed him. Third, there was Kumajirou, the bear that he had raised from birth but for some reason still couldn't remember his name.
Lastly, there was France. He and England had raised him as lovingly as he could ask for. The main difference between the two was that France could remember Canada's name, whereas England still managed to get him confused for Alfred.
Despite the fact that the two of them had grown apart over the years, France and Canada held a bond that resembled America and England's only of a less intensity. Take for example, right now.
Canada sat in his normal chair, Kumajirou on his lap and a serene smile on his face. In front of him Alfred and Arthur were arguing over some stupid plan that America had come up with having something to do with an idea on how to save a number of endangered species. Something involving cloning which England thought was completely daft.
France was watching the two arguing, a wide smile on his face at how apparent the sexual tension was between the two. Canada could see the pulsing vein in China's head as he tried to keep his calm but with Russia on one side of him and the bickering blonds on the other he was having quite a hard time.
Despite the fact that France was smiling widely, his sexual advances on the other members of this ragtag alliance had been halfhearted in Canada's eyes though he didn't think any one else would notice. Canada's smile fades ever so slightly and he looks at France through narrowed eyes. Yes, something was definitely off about the older man. Canada decided that he would ask him after the meeting.
"You bloody wanker your idea is ridiculous!" England growled his arms crossed over his chest.
"Who are you calling a wanker? You idiot!" America fired back "my plan is foolproof!" he yelled, his arms waving wildly around for emphasis. England resisted the urge to choke out his once colony, his bushy eyebrow was twitching in way that signaled just how intense his fury is.
"I say. That we call a recess for this meeting" China finally raised his voice, eyes closed in an attempt to fend of a headache that was pushing its way foreword. Russia smacked a hand to the back of his smaller ally and nodded emphatically.
"That is a good idea, da?" He smiled his wide smile that didn't quite meet his eyes and stood up, stretching his arms above his head as he did so. China eyed the large Russian warily but sighed and rose to his feet slowly. America and England turned to glare at China for suggesting they take a break but decided that it was for the better, turning and leaving the room side by side but still bickering lightly.
Canada watched as China and Russia fallowed the two blonds before rising to his feet himself. France stayed seated, leaning back in the chair and stifling a yawn. Now that Matthew was closer to the other nation he saw that there were deep purple bags beneath his eyes and he new instantly that the man hadn't slept the previous night, possibly longer.
"Can I help you, Mon Ami?" France raised his eyebrow lightly and Canada blushed deeply. He hadn't realized he had been staring.
"O-oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare" Matthew averted his gaze, looking down at Kumajirou with a frown. His face was still stained red.
"That's fine Matthew, no need to worry. You mind was obviously else-"
"What's the matter Francis?" Canada blurted out quickly, his blue eyes shining with concern and his mouth set in a thin line. France raised a perfectly trimmed eyebrow and frowned lightly at Canada.
"Well" France started slowly, a deep sigh escaping him as he rose to his feet. "Do you remember those lessons about my history?" France started, placing his hands on his hips and a serious tone to his voice that Canada hadn't heard in a long while.
"Yes, what about it?" Canada asked as his eyes narrowed lightly out of a mixture of curiosity and scrutiny. Just as France opened his mouth to speak Kumajirou decided that he wanted down and wiggled in his arms until Canada let him down, spewing a string of French curse words. However, he looked up, eyes wide when he realized just who he was in the room with and blushed darkly.
"So you were saying?" Matthew tried again, smiling sweetly through the blush.
"Well this coming Wednesday is the-" he was cut off yet again however when the group of nations returned to the room, apparently taking a hungry Kumajirou walking down the hallway as a sign that the meeting should start again. Matthew ignored the other nations and mentally urged France to continue but was sadly disappointed when England took his seat and France's hand roamed a little too high on the Brits thigh and he earned a punch to the head along with a slew of curse words and threats.
Just as Canada returned to his seat he heard France's melodic laughter and he felt his stomach do flips.
~:~:~:~:~:~:~
After the meeting, France struck up a conversation with Matthew's brother so instead of heading back to the source the Canadian decided to go for the next best thing.
"England! Can I ask you a question?"
"America. What the bloody hell do you want now?"
"I'm Ca-na-da. Remember?" Canada's face scrunched up in an annoyed way and he huffed lightly.
"I'm terribly sorry Matthew! What can I do for you?" England asked apologetically, running his hand through his hair lightly. Obviously flustered at the fact that he mistook Canada as America…again.
"Do you know why France would be distressed over this coming Wednesday?" Canada asked, shifting his polar bear in his arms and shifting his weight from leg to leg. England's gaze rose to the ceiling momentarily as he racked his memory. Trying to figure out just why May 30th had some sort of impact on his perverted counterpart.
Oh. It was that day.
England shuddered deeply, his gaze falling to the boy in front of him and he let out a small sigh. "I'd prefer you ask Francis himself about that Matthew" England said, his voice low but somehow level. Without another word, the older nation turned on his heals and headed out main entrance. Canada frowned deeply but let out a defeated sigh.
I'm going to get to the bottom of this before next week if it takes everything I have He thought to himself, a small but determined smile gracing his face.
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