Disclaimer: Hetalia is not mine. Neither is anything else mentioned in this story that might be copyrighted or something.

Arthur Kirkland was a very, very grateful man. He supposed he would forever be in the debt of a certain someone who made Alfred's birthday party possible. And, really, it wouldn't be so bad if this person wasn't an annoying Frenchman.

Yes, Arthur had enlisted the help of Francis Bonnefoy.

Oh, dear Lord, what is the world coming to? Arthur thought, standing alongside his neighbor as they supervised the children running around outside. I really hope he doesn't actually expect me to throw myself down and grovel at his feet. I mean, yes, he did do a good job, but still...

It really helped when your neighbor was quite skilled at throwing parties. He had admitted to Arthur earlier that day, though, as they were setting up, "I've actually never hosted a party for a child. This is a first for me."

Arthur replied with a grunt as they moved a table to the backyard. "Well, if I have to be perfectly honest, things don't look that screwed up, so you must be okay. Of course, I happen to be helping."

"Oui," Francis had chuckled. "Ah, is that calme young boy coming along? Matthieu, I believe his name to be."

"Eh? Oh, yes, he is. His mother called and said she'd be dropping him off an hour before the party actually starts, and he'll be spending the night. Why?"

"Oh, it's nothing." When Arthur narrowed his green eyes, Francis just smirked. "Monsieur, why not allow me to trim those massive eyebrows of yours?"

Arthur dropped the table on Francis' leg, earning a yelp. "Bugger off."

Frankly, the amount of children yelling and shouting was giving the poor Briton quite the headache. I should have never planned this silly party, he thought, rubbing his temples. Ugh, what a horrible idea. But, Alfred had wanted a party. He wanted a party with all of his friends and a large cake and presents galore. Anyway, it wasn't everyday that your only son turned ten. It left the gentleman wondering where all of the years had gone. He found himself getting nostalgic as he recalled a time when Alfred would only ever say, "Daddy, Daddy!" in that adorable baby voice of his.

Now I'm turning into a sentimental old man, Arthur thought in a grumble, allowing a soft smile to grace his features.

"Hey, Dad!" Alfred skipped over to him, the ten friends he had invited following close behind. "Dad, is it time to eat some cake?"

Of course. Thank Alfred for worrying most about his stomach.

Arthur glanced over at Francis who nodded. "Uh, yes, it actually is. Come now, and sit at the tables over there." He pointed to the cheap, plastic tables that were bought just for this event, and the children, excited with the prospect of finally being able to eat a cake, obeyed his order. "Frog, go get the cake," Arthur mumbled.

Francis rolled his eyes. "You wound me so, mon ami."

"Save it."

As the Frenchman walked away, Arthur began setting out plates, napkins, and forks for the children, hearing glimpses of their conversation.

"Alfred, you're so lucky that your birthday is on the Fourth of July," one young boy commented.

Alfred grinned proudly, happy that the attention was on him. "Yep! Dad, Matt, and I are gonna go watch the fireworks tonight!"

They did that every year, and every single time, Alfred was simply amazed at the colorful explosion of lights in the sky.

"Mattie?" the boy blinked over at Alfred's best friend. "You're lucky."

With a blush, Matthew replied, "W-Well, we always, uh-"

"So, Alfred..." Poor Matthew was ignored now as another boy brought something up. "How come your dad has big eyebrows?"

"His eyebrows are fine," Alfred said defensively. Apparently, they weren't aware of Arthur, who was at another table.

"He also has a weird accent."

"I like his accent!" Again, Alfred defended him, and Arthur felt quite pleased to have raised such an amazing son. "Besides, Lovi and Feli and Luddy have weird accents."

Lovino rolled his eyes and put his arms across his chest. "Bastard, quit bringing other people up. I don't want you talking about me."

Deciding now would be a good time to cut in, Arthur made his way to Alfred's table. "Who all wants cake?" he asked.

The answer was unanimous as the children forgot their arguments.

Everyone, minus Matthew, had left around three that afternoon. After such a long day, Arthur had wanted to take a quick nap. Alfred, on the other hand, would have none of that.

"Dad, did you see what Lovi and Feli got me?" he asked, sitting next to Matthew and playing with his toys. "It's the new Mario game for my Wii!"

"Mm, that's nice."

"Oh, and Mattie drew me this awesome picture! Isn't he a good artist?"

His friend turned a deep red color and began fumbling with his fingers. "I-I didn't have the money to buy anything an-and I thought you might...I'm sorry I couldn't get you something cooler-"

Alfred hushed him with a laugh. "Mattie, I like your drawings! I'm gonna hang it up in my room tonight, after we watch the fireworks!"

On top of Alfred's constant enthusiasm for birthdays, a certain Frenchman refused to leave. "Alfred, may I see that picture, please?"

"Sure!" Alfred passed it over to the man, who looked at it with appraising eyes.

"Matthieu, this is magnifique! Why, you are quite the artist!" He smiled softly down at the young boy, who looked even more embarrassed then before. "One of these days, you must draw me a picture. Is that alright?"

"Of course he will!"

Arthur sighed. "Alfred, let Matthew answer for himself, please."

All eyes turned on Matthew, who, despite being red in the face, actually looked more than happy. "Uh, sure!" he squeaked out, a soft smile coming over him.

In return, Francis beamed. "Merci, Matthieu." Letting the two young boys go back to looking over presents, Francis turned to Arthur. "You don't mind if I tag along, do you?"

"Actually, as you very well know, I do. But, since Alfred would insist, yes, you may." He picked up his tea and took a sip, glaring at the Frenchman from over the rim of his cup. "I really do wish Alfred didn't take such a liking to you."

"As you've told me," Francis said, sitting down next to Alfred. "But, it seems you're stuck with me."

Arthur groaned. "Don't put it that way, please. I can think of thousands of people I'd rather be stuck with than you."

Francis fell into an amused silence, watching as Alfred and Matthew played with the action figures that Kiku gave as a gift. "What's his situation like?"

Arthur glanced over at him. "I beg your pardon?"

Keeping his voice low, Francis looked intensely at Arthur. "Matthieu. What's his situation at home?"

Making sure the boys weren't listening (and they weren't, they were too preoccupied playing with 'Hamburger Hero' and 'Syrup Man'), Arthur muttered, "His father is a drunk and is always gone. His mother works constantly, and doesn't really keep up much with her son. I was worried about him for quite some time, but he isn't abused in anyway. He just doesn't receive the love and adoration that children need." The Englishman sighed, staring down into his tea. "It's quite upsetting, really, but there isn't much we can do. That's why I try having him over as much as I possibly can. He's such a sweet young boy. It's too bad his parents don't see that."

"Oui," Francis softly whispered. "Eh...Arthur?"

"Hmm?"

"Perhaps if...perhaps if I am able, do you think Matthieu might come and live with me?"

"What, you- you want to adopt the boy?" He quickly glanced over; Matthew and Alfred were completely oblivious to the conversation. "That might be slightly difficult. Unless his parents give a legitimate reason for Social Services to take him from his household, you probably won't be able to do much."

Francis shrugged. "It...it was just an idea. I really do believe that boy is special, though, and he deserves a special home. I'd like to be the one to give that to him."

The Briton groaned. "Honestly, you're nearly making me believe you to be something more than a mindless twat. Before I actually find myself agreeing with you on a subject, why don't you cook dinner for us?"

"When will it start? We've been sitting here forever, Dad, why won't it start yet? What time is it? Did you remember to grab the snacks, I'm kinda getting hungry. If you-"

"Alfred," Arthur warned. "I told you not to complain. You're the one who wanted to come out here earlier than we needed to."

Alfred frowned. "Only because I thought that, if we came earlier, it would start earlier."

Arthur couldn't help the chuckle that he gave. "Alfred, sweetheart, they won't just start when you decide to show up. The fireworks won't go off until nine."

His young son merely scoffed. "I knew that. Hey, Dad, you haven't given me a gift yet!" He pointed over to the large bag that Arthur had beside him. "What's in there?"

Laughing, Arthur took out three wrapped gifts. "Fine, fine, you caught me. There's one from Aunt Judy, one from Francis, and one from myself."

"Francis got me a gift?" Alfred grinned. "Thanks!"

"You're most certainly welcome," Francis replied, watching the boy with fond eyes. "I do hope you enjoy it."

Alfred grabbed Aunt Judy's first. "I will, don't worry!" he exclaimed, ripping the wrapping paper off of that one. "Oh, look, another scarf..."

Arthur took the scarf from his son and looked it over. "It's very nice, yet again. She always does make the most lovely presents, doesn't she?"

"It's summer, though," Alfred muttered, though he didn't say anything completely awful about it. Arthur had to admit, that was certainly a step up from last year, when he threatened to throw it in the garbage disposal. Yes, even if he did complain, it was certainly better than a full-out tantrum.

"Never mind that. Go ahead and open the present that the Fro- er, Francis got for you," Arthur replied, waving off Alfred's attitude (and ignoring Francis' questioning gaze at the slip of his nickname). With a lot more excitement this time, Alfred, again, tore the paper off of the present.

A gasp came as Alfred examined his present. "No way, a Lego roller coaster set?"

Being an avid collector of all things Lego, Alfred had been eying this particular item in the store for several months now. Therefore, when Francis had asked what to buy for the boy, Arthur had no trouble pointing him in the right direction. Now I need to prepare for more of those darn pieces everywhere, Arthur thought, though he still didn't lose his smile.

"See, Francis, I told you I'd like it! Hey, when we get home, can Mattie and I play with it? You wanna play, right, Mattie?" Alfred looked over at his friend, who gave a nod. "See?"

"Perhaps," Arthur answered. "You boys might just be too sleepy for that, though. Now, last present, Alfred." Arthur passed his present over to his young son, who opened it with glee.

When the paper was all stuffed in Arthur's arms, Alfred giggled. "Dad, did you make these yourself?"

Arthur peered over the pile of wrapping paper to see Alfred holding up a few toy soldiers. "Er, yes, I did. Do you like them?"

"Yeah! Man, this is so cool! Mattie, we can play war with these guys, right?"

"Right!" Matthew looked excited, almost ready to play with the new toys right now, as he picked one up and looked it over. "It's very nice, Mr. Kirkland."

The Briton had given up on Matthew ever calling him 'Arthur', so he just gave a smile. "Why, thank you very much, Mattie. I know you have quite the eye for art, so that means a lot to me." And, surprisingly enough, it actually did. Strange what the effect of a small child's words could do to a grown man. In Arthur's case, it made his chest swell with pride. I do admit, I am quite a good artist, and, apparently, a maker-of-soldiers. I really should turn this into a living, shouldn't I?

He would have probably started planning out his business right there and then (and he had already decided it should be called Kirkland's Soldiers) when the first firework interrupted his thoughts.

"Yay!" Alfred and Matthew cheered, standing up to get a better. "Dad, Dad, it's starting!"

"Yes, yes, I see it," Arthur said with a laugh. "It's very pretty."

Each time another firework went off, Alfred and Matthew clapped their hands and gave loud yells to show their appreciation. The main colors consisted of red, white, and blue, which pleased Alfred to no end ("Those are my favorite colors!" he had exclaimed), and, somewhere in the background, a loud instrumental piece of the Star-Spangled Banner was being played.

The show lasted for nearly an hour, until it finally died down. Which was just as well, actually, because Arthur could see the tired eyes of Alfred and Matthew as they began collecting their possessions. "I thought you said you guys wouldn't be tired, Alfred," Arthur teased as he packed the presents back into the large bag.

Alfred merely yawned. "We'll be awake once we get home," he promised.

On the drive back, though, Francis turned to check on the two boys. "They're both fast asleep," he commented in amusement.

Arthur snorted. "I knew they wouldn't be able to stay up for as late as they were planning."

"Oui, I believe we both knew." Francis sat up straight in his seat. "So, Arthur, tell me, how long did you spend making those toy soldiers?"

"Eh...a couple weeks, maybe a month. I lost track of time." He caught Francis' smirk as they drove under a streetlight. "What? I thought I did a pretty damn good job on those. So did Matthew, and he's a lovely artist."

Francis laughed. "No need to get so offensive, mon ami, I said not a word. I was simply wondering how on earth you, of all people, managed to pull something as exceptionnel as that off."

Arthur was pleased that the dark night was hiding his red face. "I'll have you know, my artistic skills are quite fabulous."

"Apparently not."

"What was that?"

"Well, you know what they say- la cuisine est un art."

"And what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

Knowing he couldn't be seen, Francis smirked once more. "Cooking is an art."

Arthur's grip on the wheel tightened. "If I weren't driving right now, I'd give that face of yours a good smack."

I meant to have this up sooner. I really did.

I went to Wal-Mart with my elder brother a few weeks back. When he saw that Lego thing, his whole face lit up like a Christmas tree. He's always wanted one of those since then. He's an odd one.

Yes, I made Arthur give Alfred toy soldiers. I'm awful, aren't I? Ripping crap off from the show. Sorry... (also, if you look, I made Arthur say a line that Alfred says- silly me!)

Fourth of July is one of my favorite holidays. You know why? 'Cause it is. Anyway, one week after America's awesome birthday...it's MY birthday. Oh, yeah, baby!

Review, comment, favorite, whatever it is you guys wanna do- I don't care. I just hope you enjoyed it!