Update~ XD

"You slept there last night?" Alfred asked, eyebrow raised as he watched the British fairy who was currently passed out on Alfred's couch.

"Mmm" Was the only answer Arthur gave, still deep in sleep. Alfred just sighed. It was still too early in the morning for him to be bothered with anything he considered strange.

And a fairy sleeping in his living room was definitely strange...

He decided to ignore the Brit until he woke up, switching the TV on. He ended up sitting on the arm of the couch, knowing that Arthur wouldn't be happy if he had to move him.

He lost himself in the TV for about half an hour before there was a knock at the door. He sighed again, wondering who could be at the door so early in the morning. Even he never got up that early, the only reason he was awake at that moment was because he was worried about what Arthur could do.

"Yes?" he asked, a little irritably.

A man with long blonde hair smiled at him warmly. "Bonjour" he said cheerfully.

"Er...hey?" Alfred looked at him suspiciously, at the bag that the Frenchman was holding. "Look, we don't want whatever you're selling..." Alfred said, going to close the door.

"No, no, you misunderstand" the Frenchman said quickly, using his foot to stop the door from fully closing "I was just wondering, is this the house Arthur is staying in?"

Alfred blinked, letting the door swing open. "You know Arthur...?" he asked in surprise.

The mysterious French person's smile widened. "Oui. We're very close-" he seemed to think about what he had been about to say. "Well...maybe not friends..." he said carefully, "rivals would probably be a better way to put it...But we've known each other for a long time" The smile was back. "My name is Francis Bonnefoy" he said, holding out his hand for Alfred to take.

"Alfred F. Jones..." Alfred replied, taking the hand cautiously. "So, what? Are you a fairy too?"

Francis laughed. "No, nothing like that. But I am on their side" he said, as if pointing out something casual.

"...'On their side'...? What are you?" Alfred stopped as Francis pressed the bad into Alfred's hands.

"Can you please give that to Arthur for me?" Francis asked. "He probably wouldn't accept it if I gave it to him personally, but maybe if you do..."

"Um...Sure?" Alfred said, peeking inside the bag. A few sets of shirts, trousers were inside. "So why-?" he looked up, expecting to still see the Frenchman smiling at him. But Francis was gone. The only sign that he had actually been there was the bag Alfred was holding.

How many of these weirdoes am I gonna have to meet? Alfred asked himself, closing the door behind him as he went back inside the house.

He noticed Arthur stir as he went back into the living room, but he didn't fully wake up.

"Hey, Arthur?" Alfred asked gently. The only reply he got was Arthur muttering something about some kind of mint coloured flying bunny. He huffed. "Yo, Artie!" Alfred raised his voice slightly, this time throwing the bag at Arthur.

"Huh?" Arthur gasped, looking around wildly. "O-one does not simply ride a unicorn into London!"

"Dude, calm down, it's me" Alfred said, slightly worried about what kind of dream Arthur could have possibly had to say something like that.

"O-oh...Alfred" Arthur said, his mind still slightly numb from sleep. He noticed the bag, looking inside it warily. "...What's this?" he asked warily.

"Clothes" Alfred said simply. "Some French guy called Francis told me to give them to you.

Arthur, who had been inspecting one of the shirts, pushed the bag away in disgust at the mention of the Frenchman. "Francis?" he asked in disbelief. "How the bloody hell did that frog find me so soon...? Dammit, and here I was hoping I could actually get rid of him..."

"So you do know him" Alfred realised. "Who is he, exactly?"

"Just someone I wish I didn't know" Arthur said bitterly.

"Okay..." Alfred said slowly. "So, what is he? He said he wasn't a fairy..."

"It doesn't matter" the British fairy through the bag of clothes on to the couch. "You might as well just burn those" Arthur told Alfred, "I'm not wearing them"

Alfred stared at the neglected bag sympathetically for a few seconds. "But you told me you didn't have anything else besides the clothes you're wearing now" Alfred gestured to the robe that Arthur had been wearing for the past two days. "Those clothes actually seemed pretty nice. I'm not buying you any others, so you might as well wear them"

"Seriously?" Arthur scoffed, staring at the bag grudgingly. "...I'll think about it" he said finally. He started to walk out of the room. "I'm hungry. Since I'm the one living with you, I'll cook something, okay?"

"Sure, that's fine" Alfred said, feeling slightly happier at the idea of food.

He soon found out that he should never ever let Arthur cook. Ever. For the sake of everyone he held near and dear, and possibly the entire world.

Matthew woke up to the sound of screaming. He sighed, picking up his glasses from the table on the side of his bed.

"No! Why would you put mustard and Tabasco sauce together?"

"Huh? Isn't that what you're supposed to do?"

"Who the hell gave you that idea?"

"Okay, okay...I'll just add this to make it better then-"

"Adding curry powder's not going to help at all! How-?" There was a sudden (manly) shriek. "Holy-! It's on fire!"

"Hmm...That means flavour, right?"

The Canadian listened to this hurried conversation, mystified. What the hell was going on down there?

There was a faint chuckle. "He always was terrible at cooking..."

Matthew turned in surprise, seeing a man with long blonde hair smiling nostalgically at the other end of the room. "Wha...?"

The man blinked in surprise. "Ah, désolé. I didn't see you there" the Frenchman apologized before vanishing suddenly.

"...Huh?" Matthew decided that he was either in a dream or still very tired, and went back to sleep.

Yeah...not sure what to put here...Please review and tell me what you think? ^_^'