Title: Bridges
Writer: mydetheturk
Countries/Parings: Canada/Cuba, US of A (America), OCs (Quebec, Ontario, British Colombia, Yukon), England, Hungary in the extra
Rating: T
Warning: Canada smoking, use of human names when speaking to each other, other times the country name is used, use of bad language (One/two words that I'm sure we all heard in Jr. High/Early years of High School)
Disclaimer: Nope
Summary: Canada's day went like crap. Cuba cheers him up.

Canada stood on the bridge, staring out over the horizon, across the falls and into the waters on the other side. Pulling on his joint, he mused about the day's happenings. Or rather, of how badly the day went.

First, America, being the idiot he was, had forgotten what day it was. Again. And he was being a jerk – so much for the 'hero' persona he was always gunning for. It was like he was always trying to get Canada to join him, when he knew – or should have known, Canada told him enough times – that Canada was his own country and would never join America.

Moron.

Meeting. Oh joy. Everybody thought he was America – Even England, for Maple's sake (the bastard). And he couldn't even talk to Cuba during this – because, hell, what do they do there, anyway, listen to America and England argue, and do nothing about it? – as Cuba was on the other side of the room. Maple.

Later on – oh Maple was that bad – later on when back in Ottawa, Canada came across Ontario and Quebec. Fighting. Again. And poor British Colombia was trying to stop them. Again. Canada nearly had to ban them from going near each other (again), if it wasn't for the fact that he knew it was like England and France's fighting – something they always had and always will do. That, and he knew Yukon wanted pictures of them.

Thinking on that, Canada made a note to stop letting her near Hungary. Who knows what the woman would do to the Province.

And that brings him back to now. The sun had finally set and Canada realized his joint was nearly gone. He sighed and took one last drag, putting out the joint in the nearby container.

He stood on the railing, keeping his balance, walking along, and staring at nothing. The height didn't bother him like it would America – the jerk was a pilot and built some of the tallest buildings in the world and heights bothered him. Hah. Canada smirked at that; irony at it's best.

Sitting on the railing now, Canada looked at the sky, watching the stars slowly show up and go away, since it was now dark and a storm or shower was on the way.

"Matt! Matthew! Where the hell are ya?" Canada jumped a little, grabbing the railing so he wouldn't fall. "There ya are. Quebec called me and said you were missin' – well, after I got him to stop speaking in French – and Ontario said that you were probably near or on one of the bridges around here," Cuba said gruffly, holding out his hand to Canada.

"An-Andrès, I-I was fine, eh. D-don't startle me like that, please. I could have fallen, and that would have been bad, eh?" Canada said, jumping down from his perch. "It is nice of you though, to be worried about me. Eh. Nobody else is, usually." He sniffs and bites his lip.

"Matt, Matt. It's okay. I know what a bad day ya had, so I figured I'd give ya this." Cuba handed Canada a small box, saying, "I know it's early, but open it." Canada opened the little box.

Inside was a pendant – a bridge, with a maple leaf at one end and a cigar at the other.

"It's – it's, jeez, I don't know what to say Andrès," Canada stammered again.

"Then don't." Cuba stole Canada's lips with his own, asking for entrance while tugging on that one flyaway hair. Canada gasped, letting Cuba in. "C'mon. Let's head back to your place and celebrate your birthday a little early this year." The accompanying smirk was enough to turn Canada's insides to jelly.

The Fluffy End. Eh.

So, HAPPY CANADA DAY!!!! Whoop. SO, didja enjoy the Cuba/Canada fluff? I did.

No historical content, whoopee… 'Cept, I just went and found a name I liked for Cuba, since I didn't think he had one yet… yeah, if he does, I'll change it.

Actually, I kinda have a bonus fic for you, but if you don't like OCs in the form of Province-tans, don't continue.

"So, did ya get it?" Hungary asked. She'd been stalking Canada and Cuba for weeks trying to get something like this.

"Oh yes I did, isn't it great? I got the whole thing. I did good, right?" Yukon asked hopefully.

"You did very good, my Padawan. Very good indeed. Come, let's go show Japan and get this archived." Hungary tugged on her young charge's hand.

The End. (cue spooky music) Or is it? (cue evil woman laughter)

Sorry about that. –muttering in the background. "crazy Hungarian woman, making me write things."- Anyway, take that as you will, but hey, just ignore the crazy woman writing this crap.

And I've got a Question: Is there a Canada/Cuba (Cuba/Canada) community? IF not, anyone want to start one with me?