I'm so sorry I've taken so long to update this. I didn't like the other attempts at this chapter that I'd made, but then I fell in love with "Downton Abbey" and it gave me the inspiration I needed : )

ThE-faInTinG-faNGirl: Thank you for reviewing, and I'm so glad that you like it! I was rather nervous about introducing all of those relationships, but I'm happy that you enjoy figuring them out :D I do hope to make them a little bit clearer as things go along, because there'll be even more to include XD

HoshiUta: 300th anniversary? You got it! I think I'm going to slip out of order for a bit and do that one soon. I have such love for ScotEng, and I want to do something fluffy and romantic. Keep an eye out for it! And of course you're worthy of praise for "Red and White," it was AMAZING! I loved it!

Title comes from the song of the same name by Clifford Grey and Nat D. Ayer. Anyone who watches "Downton Abbey" will recognize it as the song Mary Crawley and Matthew Crawley sing together.

Arc IX: Years – If You Were The Only Girl In The World

"Sometimes when I feel bad
And things look blue
I wish a pal I had...say one like you..."

The war had been dragging on two long years, and Belgium was exhausted. Her body was battered mess of bruises, scars, and burns, and her face was wet with the tears she'd tried so hard to hold in. She wanted to be strong for her boys, strong for her girls, strong for everyone in her land who had been damaged and displaced by this godforsaken war. She loved them all, and, standing almost knee-deep in the muck of the trenches with them had made her so much more aware of that fact.

"Someone within my heart to build a throne
Someone who'd never part, to call my own..."

The voice pulled her out of her thoughts as it echoed quietly in the trench. Perfect pitch, and it shook with emotion as it hit each note, sang each word. She looked around, trying to figure out who this gifted singer was. It was not one of hers, she knew that for sure. Whoever it was, she longed to answer that voice. But she had not sung for years. The war had taken her voice from her.

"If you were the only girl in the world..."

She moved quietly along the trench, searching for that voice. She might not be able to sing for herself, but she wanted to know the man who could. She wanted to stand before him and listen, captivated and then thank him for the song in this darkened, painful place.

"And I were the only boy..,"

To say she was shocked when she found him would be a gross understatement. For, in the all the years she'd known him, Belgium had never heard England sing. In fact, she'd been quite certain that he couldn't. But there he was, in his mud and blood-spattered uniform, singing for a group of soldiers. Some were sitting, some were standing; some were smoking, some were polishing their guns, some were just standing there...and some were weeping, silently. She quietly joined the group, hoping England would not notice her. If he did, she feared he would stop. And she did not want him to stop.

"Nothing else would matter in the world today
We could go on loving in the same old way..."

She blinked rapidly, her eyes unnaturally hot and her cheeks damper than usual. She was weeping again, the tears sliding over her filthy cheeks. England himself was wrapped in bandages, covered in burns and bruises and clearly just as tired as she was. But he was still singing into the quiet of the trench. It was not one of the manor houses they, as Empires, had been used to. She was not in her fine furs and silks and he was not in his suits and medals. In fact, she wondered if they would even recognize themselves, were they to look upon those old photographs of themselves from that era. She doubted it. For in those pictures would be clean, well-fed, richly-clothed versions of themselves living in a world so very far from the world they inhabited now. A world where they were both haggard and filthy and battered. A world where the romance and rose-tinted dances and dinners and conversations seemed foolish; the stuff of fairy-tales. This was the real world.

"A garden of Eden made just for two..."

It seemed England was thinking the same thing, for his voice faded off and his head bowed, unable to go on. The soldiers looked to him desperately. The song had been an escape for them. It had made them think of home, whether in Brussels or London, Manchester or Antwerp or any of the numerous towns, cities, and villages where they had dwelt before honor and conscription had forced them to the front. They needed that song.

"With nothing to mar our joy," Belgium heard herself sing, her voice cracking and weak. Everyone's eyes were suddenly on her, including England's. His were wide, shocked. She offered him a tiny, shy smile. The next lines were sung together.

"I would say such wonderful things to you
There would be such wonderful things to do
If you were the only girl in the world
And I were the only boy..."

Their voices held the final note, his strong, honeyed tenor and her gradually strengthening soprano letting it taper off slowly into the heavy silence following the performance. They had stared at each other throughout the last verse, and they continued to stare even when the soldiers started applauding. She offered him another smile, and, this time, he returned it gratefully. It had been a long time since she had seen him smile and before she even realized what she was doing, she'd thrown herself at him, embracing him, whispering her thanks over and over. He hugged her back, burying his face in her shoulder.

Suddenly, the sound of whistles and the men were up, scurrying to the ladders. She got to her own and turned to see England getting readying to climb his, a line of men forming behind him as the officers in the trench shouted out orders.

As Belgium prepared to go over the top, she found herself thanking England all over again, albeit silently. Two years of war, of pain, of exhaustion, and he had managed to give her a few moments of peace just by singing a song. She smiled to herself. When this war was over, they would sing that song together in the peace that followed, dressed up and well-fed as she played the piano and he stood gallantly beside her, his strong, calloused hand on her shoulder.

I would say such wonderful things to you
There would be such wonderful things to do
If you were the only girl in the world
And I were the only boy.

Notes:

- I'm sorry the chapter is short, but I wanted to write it as a brief moment in time during an ugly conflict, not as a long, drawn-out tale. Though there will be some like that, most likely.

- The war Belgium and England are in is, of course, World War I.

- The song is period-appropriate: it was written in 1916. I used the Wikipedia article on the song to get the lyrics and the names of the writers.

- I definitely intend to write much more about World War I, and those chapters will hopefully be longer.

- That's really all I have to say, except to remind people that it is meant to harken back to the scene in "Downton Abbey" where Mary and Matthew sing the song together. So I gladly give credit to Julian Fellowes, creator of the series, and to all involved in bringing that magnificent show to life.