England and Canada walked side-by side together, away from the Lenscrafters' Store. Canada had chosen bronze colored wire frames, they went well with his blonde locks, and brought out the vivid color in his navy eyes. After purchasing the eyewear, and thanking the Brit profusely, the two nations hopped in Arthur's car and started back towards his home in his capital, London.

"I really can't thank you enough England! I'm just so glad to get Quebec back!" the young happy nation smiled brightly at the driving Englishmen.

"Oh it's no problem at all, Matthew. You know I'd do it all again in a heartbeat." Arthur beamed back at Canada, who was admiring his new glasses with a grin that seemed foreign on the timid country's usually calm and sweet face. This struck a nerve with Britain who was once again catching one of his fellow allies acting unlike themselves. He couldn't figure out if he just didn't known them well enough, or if they had changed since he last spent quality time with him. France was acting generous, America valued his company, and he often caught Canada with sly, sometimes sinister smiles. Arthur just couldn't comprehend it.

"Canada, are you feeling alright?"

"Yes, why?"

"And what about France and America"

"Yes, why?"

"How are all of you getting along together?"

England easily caught Canada's obvious hesitation.

"We are perfectly fine" The Canadian said this through clenched teeth. He had never known the northern nation to have a hot temper, especially not when talking about feelings. It was much more likely that the young country burst out sobbing again then for him to get visibly agitated. The pair rode in silence the rest of the way home. In his head, England was contemplating whether he should touch down on the subject again, but he figured it would probably end in the same fashion, only worse.

Canada and England entered the house once more. England decided to go down to his study/lair/pirate headquarters/meeting place for the Brits-against-Frogs club/bakery/ball-pit, don't ask about the ball-pit, it was only used to keep Sealand at bay when he visited.

Britain headed straight for the lair section of his basement. He grabbed a tarp for nearby and hurriedly laid it over his magic summoning circle to insure no visits from Russia, if his time in the magical sanctuary resulted in a spell that didn't go as planned.

The Englishmen picked up an ancient spell book, eyes resting on the crimson dragon on the cover for a moment. This spell book had been given to him by his brother, Wales on Halloween a couple centuries ago, it had quickly become his favorite over the years, it had a charm, potion, or spell for basically any problem, and for the most part pretty good results.

Flicking through the tattered papers to find the right page only took a matter of minutes.

'Chapter IV

Humans Being Humans

Art thou friends snobbish, greedy, arrogant, or rude?

This potion will ensure the creation of the perfect the perfect mate upon consumption…'

England smiled, eyes glossing over the recipe. He walked over to the ingredient shelf, grabbing the few necessary jars that were needed to make the potion. Billywig Sting, Haliwinkles, and Leech juice, perfect, he had all of them. Mixing the correct amounts of each substance into a small glass bowl, England then filled an eye dropper with the mixture, which smelled faintly of the scones that Arthur had made just a few nights before, mmm, delicious.

While walking up the stairs to enter the main floor, the Englishmen slipped the eye dropper into his coat pocket. Exiting the basement into the hallway, the Brit heard the American yell from the kitchen.

"England, can you come to the kitchen. I have something for you." Hmm, well, America's certainly growing up to be a pretty nice chap. Giving me gifts and all, what a generous bloke. As Arthur turned the corner into the kitchen he saw all three of his houseguests somewhere in the room. Alfred had his back to him, he looked as the he was holding a large pot or pan. France and Canada were sitting at the table, glaring at each other menacingly with both their arms crossed. Upon the Brit's entering, France plastered a dazzling smile on his face and walked over to him.

"Bonjour, my favorite Englishmen! I must say, it was very kind of you to take Canada to the eyeglass store, but between that outing and the ballet, I'm feeling quite, um, how you say, ignored." While talking, France began to rub England's back, as he continued his hands slowly worked their ways around England waist and on to his chest.

"Ugghh," England grabbed France's hand and shoved them away from him.

"Hah, epic fail, dude!" America laughed at the Frenchmen's failed attempt at seducing the former pirate. England took a closer look at what America was holding, it was a long pan filled with chocolate chip cookies.

"I decided to say sorry to by way of making food, since your scones are so, well, British. So I made cookies!" America grinned at Britain.

"Biscuits"

"What?"

"You mean biscuits, that's what their called"

Alfred sucked in air to prevent himself on ranting to Arthur on exactly why cookies were obviously called cookies.

"Oh well, whatever you say. The point is I made 20, and ten already have your name on them bro!" Perfect… As America started placing the cookies on plates and pouring glasses of milk, England sat down and reached into his pocket to get the eye dropper. Alfred placed the plates and cups on the table in front of the other three nations, but instead of milk he sat a coffee cup next to his cookies.

"What the bloody hell is that?"

"Oh, It's a Dunkin Donuts Oreo Latte, dude. Don't cha know I run on it?"

England, Canada, and France all rolled eyes in unison before digging into their desserts. Arthur took on of the biscuits from his plate and brought it down, nonchalantly, underneath the table top, so none of the other countries seated could see what he was about to do.

He held the eye-dropper above the cookie and let a few drops of the potion seep into the cookie. He then lifted the cookie up from under the table and turned to Canada.

"Hey Matthew." Canada looked up from chowing down on the one cookies that America had given him.

"Yes?"

"I noticed you only had one cookie, would you like one of mine, I have no idea how I could ever eat all of these myself."

"Oh, sure, I guess." Canada reached out to England's hand and grabbed the cookie. He took the whole cookie in his mouth and swallowed it in one gulp. England was amazed at how fast the young nation could eat.

"Achh, Achh, Keh, Keh!" Canada started coughing and cluching his chest.

"My cooking's not that bad," America sneered.

"I'm okay." Canada stopped coughing and looked up at everyone around the table. His lips stretched out across his table in a smile that, although seemingly genuine, could make Belarus flee in fear.

"Would anyone like a back massage?"

Hello everyone, thanks for reading! I'm sorry this chapter took longer to update then the other ones so far. Also, I'm going to introduce a new character, but I don't know who yet, It may be Scotland or Cuba, but I would love anybody's ideas for a character other than them to be in the story.