Still feeling a bit rattled from his time spent with Francis a few days ago, Arthur shifted on the balls of his feet as he waited at Bella's door with a bouquet.

"Hi, Arthur!" Bella said cheerfully as she threw open the door. She smiled at him casually, which made Arthur feel a little more comfortable. He held out the bouquet, which Bella accepted with a widening of her grin and a 'thank you', and Arthur followed her into the house.

Contrary to Francis's predictions (hopes?), Arthur's failures at cooking did not strain their relationship. Bella merely found it endearing, and didn't seem to have a problem with needing to watch Arthur like a four-year-old in order to make sure he didn't burn the waffles or forget to put in salt or something. They were developing some good inside jokes by the time the food was done, and soon they sat across from one another at Bella's table, chatting idly and eating. Somehow, they got onto the topic of hair. Bella asked Arthur if he had ever grown his longer than it was now.

"I tried to once, when I was quite young. It was to spite Francis because he was parading around with his own long hair and being a prat. I was awfully committed to the idea, in fact; but English society at the time was rather... averse to long hair on men. Naturally, when I finally did manage to grow it out, it looked absolutely hideous." Arthur took another bite out of the waffle as Bella giggled a little. "Then Francis trimmed it for me, but he cut it so that I looked like him. I couldn't stand for that, of course, so I told him to cut it differently. He just trimmed it back to how it had been before; said it suited me- a veiled insult, since he had just been teasing me about how unexceptional it was when I first decided to grow it out. I was furious. I really did go to a lot of trouble for that hair." Arthur smiled unwittingly at the memory.

"You and Francis must have spent a lot of time together," Bella said with a subtle smile. "What with your countries being practically contiguous." Arthur silently applauded her use of the English language in that sentence.

I bet Francis would never say 'contiguous,' should he ever deign to speak English.

"Yes, unfortunately," said Arthur.

"And you still have the same rivalry as when you were young?"

"Well, yes, I suppose. Throughout history there have been incidences when our bosses have decided it's high time we kissed and made up, but the moment they turned their backs we'd just start fighting again." Arthur mentally applauded himself for managing to casually drop the word 'kiss'. (The significance of how the word was used in relation to Francis would not be apparent to Arthur for quite some time).

"How cute," Bella laughed. She paused, and grinned coyly. "You," she observed, "have got a bit of icing on your lip." And with that, she walked around the table and kissed him.

Oh, alright, I suppose I don't have to worry about that anymore then, was Arthur's first thought as he stood up to kiss her properly.

Then, based on the evidence I gathered on Thursday, Francis would have gone for tongue by now, the slimy git. Also, the angle would be different because- wait, what?

Arthur promptly decided to pretend that Francis's kiss hadn't just popped into his head and focused on making out with Bella.


The waffle date was followed by another date the next Saturday. And then, three days later, they went to see a film. Not long after that, they went out to dinner again at an Italian restaurant.

Francis looked on with bemusement and a bit of irritation.

To start, Arthur and Bella were off to a much less casual beginning than Francis had anticipated. They were doing things like having nice dinners out and baking for one another- and they hadn't taken the horizontal yet. Francis couldn't think of many long-term relationships between the other personafications that were spawned by a series of dates; most of them had arisen out of political or wartime circumstances in centuries past or from becoming friends or allies and then sort of falling together, but times were changing, and he supposed there must be a first time for everything.

Francis continued to give Arthur pointers on such things as how often to give Bella flowers and how to unhook a bra with one hand (something Arthur had never mastered, and, by the looks of it, would never master), but it didn't feel quite right. Francis briefly considered the possibility that he might have developed some sort of attraction to Bella, but he felt no spark at the thought of her and there was truly no previous evidence to back up that hypothesis. And there was no way he was attracted to Arthur, right? The Brit had surely had other partners in the past, and the idea had never bothered Francis. Not to mention the glaringly obvious fact their relationship had always been one of rivalry.

Of course, Francis couldn't remember ever having been aware of Arthur being in a relationship during the time said relationship was taking place.

Francis was ruminating along this particular train of thought when the phone rang, the caller ID flashing Arthur's name.

"Bonjour, Arthur."

"Hello, git. Here, I'm letting you know the date went just fine tonight and we made out for a satisfactory amount of time afterwards. Is my obligation fulfilled?"

Oh, right. He'd told Arthur he had to call after the Italian restaurant date and let him know how it went.

"Super, super," Francis said distractedly.

"And we made another one. We're going to have dinner in her hotel room after the next World Meeting," Arthur continued, blissfully ignorant of Francis's internal unrest.

"That's in Beijing, isn't it?" Francis asked, processing the meaning of what Arthur had just said. A hotel room. This probably meant they were finally going to have sex.

"Er, yes."

"Good, that's, ah, good. I'm afraid I am not available any time between now and then, so if you have a question you will simply have to call or text," Francis added as an afterthought.

"Finally, some peace and quiet, then," said Arthur. "I'll see you at the meeting then, I suppose. Bye." And he hung up. Francis stared at the phone for a second, in something like a daze, before doing the same.

Quite suddenly, he was reminded of a conversation he had once had with Gilbert and Antonio. Well, he'd actually had it more than once, but this particular incidence seemed to stand out, perhaps because it took place the night before a world meeting.

Antonio and Gilbert had been in Antonio's room eating chips and disheveling the furniture. They were in the middle of a high-stakes arm wrestling match atop the table when Francis waltzed in.

"Bonjour, mes amis. Ca va?"

"I don't know about small-biceps over here, but I am AWESOME!" Gilbert roared as he finally won the match. Antonio looked sheepish, but gave Francis a cheerful wave.

"Hola, Francis."

"So, what sort of rabble-rousing should we do at this meeting?" Francis inquired, settling down into an armchair next to the bed.

"I don't know," Antonio said thoughtfully. "I was thinking it would be better to save it for next time, since Ludwig is hosting next. Tino gives up much too soon when it comes to maintaining order."

"As much as I hate to put off our plans, I have to agree with Antonio," Gilbert seconded. "Just try to be as obnoxious as possible at the meeting for me."

"But that means you have to stay here and do nothing all day," Francis objected. Gilbert shrugged.

"I already knew that was going to happen. I'll just watch TV or play video games or something. Or sleep in. Then I'll hang with you guys afterwards." Despite his offhanded way of saying this, Gilbert looked a little sad; an uncommon expression for the patently obnoxious man.

"What's getting you down, mi amigo?" Antonio said, a concerned expression on his face. "Trust me, you're not missing out on anything by not attending these meetings-"

"That's not it. The meetings are stupid." Gilbert sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"Spit it out then, cher," said Francis.

"It's Lizzie." Gilbert went a little pink. He reached out and began to fiddle with a hotel flyer lying on the table, opening and closing it.

"Oh dear," Antonio sighed.

"She just doesn't seem to want to be around me anymore," Gilbert said softly as his shoulders slumped a little. He dropped the flyer back on the table. "I don't get it. We used to be so close. Then she started hanging around with Roderich," he spat, his voice growing loud again.

"Are they back together again?" Francis asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Oh, are they ever," Gilbert said glumly to the flyer. "Whenever we do hang out, all she talks about is how they've 'rediscovered one another' or some typical Roderich-related drivel." Antonio patted him on the back. "I don't even know how she can stand to be around him. All he's ever done is make her feel like she's not good enough the way she is. She thinks she has to change for him. Before she met that prick, she wouldn't have worn a corset for all the treasure in the world." He sighed again. "But we were so close, you know? I was so close." Gilbert got a faraway look in his eyes as he trawled his memories.

Francis and Antonio were silent, letting Gilbert run his course of gloom. There was nothing to be said that hadn't already been said at one point or another. For all his uninhibited and free-spirited behavior, Gilbert seemed to be permanently stuck on Elizabeta.

Francis had mulled this notion over as he lay in bed that night, listening to the faint sound of traffic on the roads of Helsinki. To be so in love with someone, for so long; and then to lose them to someone else because you were too chicken to suck it up and realize that well damn it, I need this person. Because you stalled, and settled for a platonic, friendly relationship that in the end was not enough for neither you nor them.

Well, that certainly was never going to happen to him because he was Francis Bonnefoy and he was in touch with all of his feelings and was perfectly capable and indeed quite happy to broadcast every one of them. He'd have to remember to warn petit Kiku about the dangers of procrastination in romance, though. (You'd think all that doujinshi would have taught Kiku a thing or two, but the man was hopeless.)

As Francis leaned back in his chair, two years later, he looked back on those thoughts and wondered if perhaps he had been wrong.


AN: So sorry I took a while to update, and that it's a little on the short side! I've been having a bit of an idea block- I know I need to get from point A to point B, but then there was a point C and now I'm not entirely sure where point B is, anyway, so I'm kind of nerfing around a bit here... So, uh, yeah, have some confused Francis and awkward PruHun.

School is starting in less than a week now, so pretty soon I'm going to be pretty busy with soccer, writing essays, not to mention studying for the PSAT, SAT, AP... Gross. As a result updates could be quite spread out, but I will try to work on this during school breaks and in my free time!

Thank you for reading! :)