(One Week Later)

Arthur held the plastic doll away from his body, completely ignoring the man next to him. The doll was wailing at the top of its mechanical lungs and he had no idea why. Why was it crying?! Was it hungry? Did he have to change it? Oh God, anything but that…

"Have you named it?" Alfred asked, leaving his side and flopping on Arthur's bed.

"Francis did. He named it Timothy, because apparently it's a boy," Arthur replied, eyeing the doll warily. The crying increased in volume and he flinched, hurriedly handing it to Alfred. "Deal with it."

"Hey, why do I have to? It's your assignment and responsibility! I don't want to take care of your kid, even if it's plastic!"

Arthur ignored his younger brother and stalked out of his room and stopped in the kitchen. He pulled out some old cupcakes Alfred had bought and nibbled on one angrily. This assignment was going to be the death of him for more than the obvious 'I'm-not-good-with-children-even-if-they're-fake' reason.

He had been slowly getting closer to Francis and it unnerved him. He still had the slightest crush on the Frenchman but… Arthur was having a hard time controlling his temper. Francis said the stupidest things, couldn't focus, and was a major flirt. Not to him, you see, but if they were walking through the park, arguing or talking (which was rare, Arthur was constantly annoyed by Francis) he would immediately flirt with anything that had boobs. When this happened, Arthur took sadistic pleasure in walking up behind him and making the kid prominently displayed. The women ran off like Francis was the plague. It was the most hilarious thing ever.

Arthur sighed and used his finger to catch a little bit of icing that was slipping off the cupcake. He, deep down, knew that being around Francis this much might be bad for his health. Licking the icing off his finger, he threw away the wrapping and walked back up the stairs. The crying hadn't stopped but it had gotten quieter.

Alfred hopped up and shoved the doll into Arthur's arms and walked away, sending him a 'never-again' glare that held no worth what-so-ever.

Arthur studied the doll and let out an annoyed huff. Let's try feeding you, you stupid plastic doll. He went searching for the bottle the teacher had given out along with the doll. He searched for a long period of time, all over the freaking house and still found nothing when a horrid thought entered his brain.

He stormed down the stairs, to the phone, dropped the doll on the kitchen table, and dialed a number his had memorized. Not that he'd ever admit to memorizing it, though.

"Hello?" Francis' accent was masked and Arthur felt a pang of disappointment that he pointedly ignored.

"Do you have the plastic hell doll's bottle?"

"… Hold on a moment." Shuffling was heard on the other end of the line and then, "Yes, I do. You left it when you decided to take my son away from me, Cher."

Arthur scowled. Francis insisted upon calling the doll his son and since it annoyed him so much, Francis also called Arthur his wifey.

"I need it. The kid is wailing at the top of his mechanical lungs and it's annoying me."

"Well, come and get it then!"

"No, I still have homework left to do and you're being unhelpful. I need that bottle to shut that kid up before I throw him at the wall."

There was a pause on the other line, almost as if Francis was trying to calculate just how serious Arthur was being.

"Wifey, Cher, please do not smash the child against a wall. We both want good grades in the class and the kid had grown on me. I'll hurry and bring the bottle. Daddy Francis to the rescue~"

Arthur hissed out an angry sigh and hung up, slamming the phone back in its cradle. Daddy Francis? That was new. First he named the doll, and then called Arthur wifey, and now Francis was 'daddy.'

My life has reached new type of weird, Arthur thought darkly.

He stalked away from the phone and picked the kid up by its leg. It kept crying and Arthur was only one second away from hurling it at the wall. He hurried into the sitting room, dropped it on the couch, and flipped the radio on. It would help drown out the obnoxious crying for a little bit, at least.

After ten minutes of trying to drown out crying while Arthur's rage steadily increased, two firm knocks sounded at the door. He stormed over, threw open the door and saw Francis smiling.

"May I come in?" He asked.

"You will anyway," Arthur muttered, standing to the side. Francis swept inside and cocked his head to the side as Arthur shut the door.

"Where is Timmy, Cher?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at Arthur.

One of Arthur's bushy eyebrows twitched. Timmy? Oh my God, he's taking this baby thing way too far.

"Sitting room. You can turn the radio off if you must." He watched Francis walk away and let out a sigh. How he could harbor a crush on the Frenchman, he couldn't understand. Running a hand through his hair, he made his way into the sitting room to find Francis 'feeding' the doll. Arthur leaned against the door frame, watching Francis.

Unlike himself, Francis would probably make a wonderful father if he treated his own flesh and blood child like he treated the doll. Even now, his blue eyes seemed to glitter just a bit more happily and he cradled the kid in his arms as he fed it. It almost brought a smile to Arthur's lips.

Francis looked up and beamed. He shuffled over to a side table and set the bottle down, glancing back at Arthur.

"Hey, mind if I stay for a little while? You said you have homework and I do too, so I thought we could work on it together. I could take care of Timmy and help you if you need it."

Arthur frowned and crossed his arms.

"Who said I needed your help? I don't take French anymore," he snapped, shuffling further into the room. "I'd probably end up helping you but stay if you must."

He lowered himself onto the couch and watched Francis.

"Mon Cher, be nice! But I do need help in English." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I'll go get my books. Hold Timmy."

Arthur sighed and took the doll as Francis jogged out of the room. He looked down the baby and frowned. He just wasn't good with children. Sure, he could babysit if need be, but he couldn't deal with kids being around 24/7, even if they were plastic.

Francis reentered the sitting room with his book bag, unceremoniously dumped it on the floor by Arthur's feet, and went straight for the radio.

"This thing can play CDs right?" He asked.

"Yes it can. Why do you want to know?"

"I have a CD with a lot of my favorite songs that I burned so I'm going to play it while we study."

Arthur sighed, shifting the baby in his arms as he waited for Francis to be done with the radio. Moments later, he flung himself onto the couch next to Arthur and grinned.

"Let's study, Cher~"

Handing the baby to Francis who laid it gently beside him, Arthur pushed himself up and jogged out the room, up the stairs, and grabbed his book bag. He stopped outside his little brother's room and peered inside.

"Alfred?"

Alfred looked up from his spot on the bed and cocked his head.

"Yeah?"

"I'll be doing homework with Francis downstairs, okay?"

He nodded and went back to his phone, probably texting Ivan or Kiku. Arthur shook his head and jogged back down stairs. He settled in next to France and pulled out his English textbook, which Francis already had opened.

"So, what do you need help with?" Arthur asked.

"Uh, all of it…" Francis replied sheepishly. Arthur let out an amused huff and thumbed through the pages.

"Well, all we have to do for English homework is…" He reached into his bag, pulled out his planner, and checked it "Read page 100 and be ready to discuss it."

"Oh! Sounds easy!"

"Well… The page is all about a famous writer and I've already read it… It had a lot of wrong things which I went through and corrected. I happen to be a big fan of Shakespeare."

Francis scowled at the book in his lap and crossed his arms.

"Well, that's a troll if I ever saw one," he complained.

Arthur rolled his eyes and set the textbook on the floor by his feet. He reached for his calculus book when music reached his ears. He cocked his head to the side, trying to identify it.

Tell me what you want to hear

Something that'll light those ears

Sick of all the insincere

So I'm gonna give all my secrets away

Arthur smiled softly and sat back, raising an eyebrow at Francis.

"You're a fan?" He asked.

"Yeah, this is one of my favorite songs," he replied, smiling at the slight shock and pleased look in Arthur's eyes.

"'Secrets' is a wonderful song."

They settled into a silence as they worked, the lyrics to Secrets by One Republic playing in the background.

Arthur had almost finished his homework when a shrill wail spilt the air and he jerked in surprise. His textbook went flying along with his assignment papers. The book connected with something, making a 'THUD' sound which, for some reason, Arthur didn't like the sound of. He turned to look at Francis, starting to yell at him when he saw the idiot.

He was rubbing his head with a pained smile on his face, watching Arthur closely. Arthur frowned and slid his gaze to the doll then back to Francis.

"What happened? Did you… hit yourself… with… a… book…" Arthur trailed off, his gaze focusing on his calculus book that lay beside Francis. "I hit you with it, didn't I?"

"Yeah, Cher, you did. But that was hilarious!" Francis replied, chuckling.

At that moment, Arthur realized something. He was calmly hanging out with Francis Bonnefoy and he was having a pretty good time, unlike all those other times when they were yelling at each other because of the doll… And the sound of Francis' laugh was amazing.

"Well, are you going to get it to stop crying?" Arthur snapped, fighting down the blush.

Francis smirked and started checking over the baby. Arthur set about gathering up his textbook and papers when Francis cursed in French.

"Merde… I don't want to change his diaper… Hey, Artie-"

"Oh hell no," Arthur snapped and paused for a second. "Do not call me Artie."

Francis scowled and started at the child. Neither of them liked the bathroom feature the kid had. It was disgusting and they had gotten into multiple fights over who would change the diaper when together.

"Please!?" Francis begged.

"Hell to the no, frog. You change it."

"But-"

"For the last time, no! Just change the freaking diaper!"

"… Arthur, what if-"

"No, just change the fucking diaper." Arthur stood up, grabbed his bag and stalked out of the room into the kitchen.

"You're so mean to me, Cher!" Francis called.

Arthur sighed and set the bag down and walked over to the fridge. He opened it, pulled out two cupcakes, and walked slowly back into the sitting room where Francis sat, changing the diaper with a pinched, disgusted look on his handsome features.

He waited until Francis had thrown the diaper away, washed his hands, and settled down on the couch with the baby in one arm. He handed a cupcake to Francis and flipped the TV on. They settled on the couch beside each other, silently munching on the cupcakes.

Francis watched the young Brit out of the corner of his eye, and felt himself inwardly grin. His intense green eyes were focused on the TV and he was using his finger to eat the icing. It was adorable. The TV was boring compared to sneakily watching Arthur nibble on the cupcake, so he pretended to be watching the TV.

Arthur shifted, his shirt rising to reveal a little of his stomach and Francis forced himself to not lick his lips. He averted his gaze and looked at the doll. It had sandy blonde hair and dull looking blue eyes, and it thoroughly annoyed the crap out of him.

Sighing, he looked at his watch while popping the last of his cupcake into his mouth. He looked at the time and almost winced. 4:45, shit! He hurriedly stood up, gathering up his things.

"Where do you have to be in such a rush?" Arthur questioned.

"I have to work at five and I only have fifteen minutes to get there! Bye Cher!" Francis turned to give Arthur a smile and saw that his lips were set in a firm line. The look was meant to be stern but was ruined by a dab of icing at the corner of his lips.

"I think it's your turn to deal with the doll, but… If you have to work, I'll take your day. But you owe me one, frog." Arthur stood up, swiping away the dot of icing and licking it away quickly.

Francis grinned and glanced at the radio, which was still playing music.

"I think I'll leave my CD here and pick it up some other time. Good-bye." He swung his bag over his shoulder and left the room. He exited, shut the front door and slid into his car. He was about to pull out of the driveway when someone tapped on his window. Instead of Arthur as he expected, it was his little brother, Alfred.

He rolled down the window and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

"Uh, hey! I found this in my room and it's mine or Arthur's so… And if you're wondering why I'm the one running it out, Arthur refused. Homework or something."

Francis studied the green and blue calculator and frowned.

"No, it's not mine. Mine is at home on my dresser. Are you sure it's not your girlfriend's?" He teased lightly.

"U-uh, n-no, that's impossible. I… Never mind. This is definitely not yours, right?" Alfred blushed.

"Yeah, I'm positive."

Alfred nodded and ran back up to the house, leaving Francis pondering what would cause a reaction like that. He pulled out of the drive way and pressed down on the gas pedal. Too many distractions, he was going to be late. He flinched, dreading the consequences.