AN: A two-shot featuring fem!France AKA Jeanne. I wrote this to fulfill a request I got some time ago for a fem!England, fem!France fic.

Main pairing is still AmericaxEngland. Warning though, it's crack. :)

Hope you all enjoy.

PS. It's on an alternate storyline from 'The Portrait'.

***

Anne thought it was going to be another ordinary bunch of meetings (by ordinary she meant 'crazy beyond all comprehension') but little did she know that things were going to be different this time around. Thanks to a certain Jeanne, this set of meetings was even crazier.

It all started with a certain challenge. Sitting in her chair that first day of the meeting, not minding anyone else's business, England soon found herself in a very interesting conversation with France.

"Angleterre, I think it is time you finally make your move with Amérique." Anne could recognize the mischievous tone in her voice even if it was only as soft as a whisper.

Confused, her brows immediately furrowed. "Excuse me?"

An irritating chuckle came from the Frenchwoman's lips as she sat down on the vacant chair beside her. "Oh don't deny it, Anne. It's the most obvious thing in the world! It's common knowledge to almost all the countries...except North Italy and the object of your affections, himself. How dense he is..."

England felt herself blushing but she rolled her eyes in an attempt to save her dignity. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Did you say something about Italy and the object of his affections?"

France looked pointedly at her this time. "Angleterre, must I spell it out for you? Your feelings for him have long been due to be confessed! You and Amérique! You cannot let your love remain hidden—" At this point, Anne had stuffed a purse inside Jeanne's mouth.

"Can youshut up?" England whispered angrily. "I do not have feelings for America. I never had and I never will."

France's eyebrows rose up in interest at this statement. "Ah, I see what the problem is here," she said after clearing her mouth of the purse.

"What?" England asked, wondering what she had deduced.

"You," France said with a smirk, "are afraid of rejection."

"I am not afraid of rejection. I'm not afraid of anything! I just don't like America, alright?"

"Well, I must agree with you at that point. You don't 'like' him, you love him."

England opened her mouth to protest but France overrode her.

"But you have nothing to be afraid of, Angleterre, really. I'm sure Alfred is very easy to please...what with your history of romantic tension! Well, since you are so reluctant, I'll prove it to you. I bet you that within this week of meetings I will get Amérique to ask me out."

"I am not making a bet with you, Jeanne. I don't see what the—"

"If I win, you lose your chances with him for as long as his relationship with me will last. If I don't, he's all yours again."

"I don't want America!"

"Of course you do. Now, to be fair--since the poor boy doesn't stand a chance when it comes to my advances--you are free to interfere by getting him to ask you out. Though, I doubt there will be any chance of that," Jeanne scoffed.

England crossed her arms over her chest. "I am not making a bet over America."

"Why? Afraid you'll lose something? If he really means so much to you, why don't you just ask me to back off?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't have any romantic interest in America?"

"Then just accept the bet. It's not like it'll do any harm to you." France smiled provokingly.

"Fine, I accept...but this is just to show you that I don't care about America, or his love life," England agreed, grudgingly.

France's smile grew wider. "Very good. Now this is where my fun starts." She then stood up and left to stay in her proper seat.

After Jeanne was a good distance away, England thought over what had just happened. Then, she spent the next five minutes banging her head on the table. What have I done? she thought to herself, hoping with each bump on the table that she would wake up from her nightmare.

***

Day One- Oh shoot, what have I gotten myself into?

It had only been an hour after the bet, but France seemed to be set on not wasting any time. Glancing across the table (where America and France were seated), England face was burning in livid fury. Somehow, France had managed to convince Lithuania to switch places with her so that she was now seated beside America.

During the whole period of the meeting, Jeanne had been listening intently to Alfred as they told each other amusing stories to pass the time. England could see her laughing with him after each joke he told. She could also see how France suggestively touched America's arm when they were laughing together, each instance of which she counted just so she could vent her anger.

She did it again. England mentally noted, seeing France's hand on America's arm for the 11th time. France was getting on her nerves but it wasn't like she could let the toad have the satisfaction of seeing her make a scene...over America. The best (and only) way England could let herself express her frustration at the moment was to tighten her grip on whatever she was holding. At the moment, it was a blue ballpoint pen. Apparently, the pen was also very fragile since it suddenly broke into clean halves with a very loud snap.

Surprised at the sudden sound, the rest of the world quickly transferred their attentions towards her general direction. With a whispered curse, she quickly hid the broken pen in her briefcase, not really caring about the mess of ink it made.

When everyone was looking away, she glanced across the table again and saw the sly smile playing on France's lips. While she was still watching, Jeanne suddenly turned toward America and whispered something into his ear. After a moment, they both looked at her and laughed.

England looked away, her cheeks burning. Oh how she hated France at the moment.

***

Day Two- Things can't get any worse than this, right?

England did not want to go to the meeting today even if she knew she was going to, anyway. It had only been a day but she was quite sure she could not handle any more of France and America...together. Anne knew Jeanne was only doing this to piss her off but what annoyed her even more was the fact that America seemed so willing to play along. Maybe it was because he actually liked France...

Anne desperately shook that thought away as she entered the meeting room. The first person who greeted her just happened to be the person she wanted to see the least.

"So," France said immediately as England walked to her seat. "Ready to give up yet? You can ask me to stop the bet, you know that."

England felt very tempted to do so, but the look on France's face was just so irritating that instead she said, "Why would I give up? It's not like I'm affected or anything."

France's smile grew. "I thought so. Anyway, enjoy the meeting."

"Yeah, you too," England growled under her breath bitterly. One day, she was going to get Jeanne for this...just she wait.

The meeting was just as torturous as the last, if not more so. This time, America and France were right beside her and she could see (and hear) every little exchange they made. England tried to forget the conversation they had about Lady GaGa and her songs, it was just too disturbing, knowing France.

When they were all finally dismissed, England stayed behind in the meeting room so that she would no longer have to see America and France talking on their way to Alfred's car. From what she had heard, America was going to drop off France at her hotel before going home himself.

Making sure that everyone had finally left the building, England got ready to leave. Just as she was about to exit the door, she caught sight of a folder on the table in front of the room. It seemed obvious that it belonged to America since it was labelled 'Fast Food Hotlines, Hero Things, and Boring Meeting Stuff'. Seeing that it was related to the meeting, she thought it could be something important. After a long moment of hesitation, she decided to drive over to America's house and give it to him. She just hoped France would be nowhere in sight by then.

England took the thirty minute drive toward America's house. Upon finally arriving, she got out of the car, took a deep breath, and rang the doorbell. Thirty seconds later, she heard the door unlock and open.

"Hey, Anne!" Alfred greeted enthusiastically. "'Sup?"

"Good afternoon, git," England replied. "I thought you might want this back." She held out the folder and he took it.

"Oh, this! Thanks England, France and I were just talking about how we wanted to order out."

"France?" England asked, shocked.

"Yeah, she's staying here 'til around nine. I'm going to take her back to the hotel after."

At that moment, Jeanne herself came into the scene. "Amérique, who is at the door? Oh, it's you Angleterre! How surprising to see you here!"

"France," England greeted stiffly.

"Anne was just dropping off the folder I left behind," America explained. "Now we can order McDonalds!"

"Fantastique! Alfred and I needed something to eat. Discussing our countries' trade relationship is very tiring," Jeanne gushed, putting an emphasis on 'relationship'.

England gritted her teeth. "Glad to be of service, then." She then turned to leave.

"Hey wait, England," America called out. "You don't want to stay?"

She turned around, glaring at France as she replied, "No. Thanks." Each word she emphasized with a pause.

"'Kay, then," America shrugged, as dense as ever. "Thanks again for dropping off the folder."

England nodded once before walking (not stomping, mind you) to her car.

***

Day Three- The schemer's guide: How to get England to spill.

America picked France up from the hotel so they could drive together to the meeting. He wasn't sure how he had gotten entwined in her plans to mentally torture England but now that he was part of it all, he could no longer back out.

France had asked him on the day this had all started whether England's opinion mattered to him. After much denial he had to admit, he did want to know what Anne thought of him after all these years. So Jeanne had proposed that they try to get a reaction out of her by annoying her to no end. According to France, seeing them getting along together would do the trick, though he wasn't exactly sure how.

He drove to the front of the hotel where France was already waiting. Alfred waited for her to get in and fasten herself down before he started driving again. "So, what's the plan for today?"

"Today," France said with a smile. "We will force our company on Angleterre, while still acting like the best of friends, of course. No matter how badly she tries to get rid of us, we have to keep her close. Like yesterday, she just hated having to sit beside us and feel out of place."

America thought this over for a moment. "Are you sure this is the right way to do it? I don't think making England mad is really the best solution. Can't we just ask her what's her opinion of me?"

"I've already tried that, Amérique. Besides, she is a stubborn one. She doesn't like to admit her feelings so openly."

"Wait, why does this matter so much to you again?"

France sighed. "I'm the country of love, remember?"

"I don't get the connection."

Jeanne's palm met her face. "Honestly...you are as dense as she is! She's in love with you, obviously."

"What?!" America hit the brakes so hard that the wheels screeched. Frustrated drivers around them honked their horns so loudly that he had to start driving again.

"Oui, it's true."

"Are...are you sure?"

He could see France nod. "It's all just a matter of waiting for her to confess her love," she said, looking mischievous again.

"So," America deduced out loud, "you were trying to get her jealous with me so that she would confess?"

"Yes. You finally understand, mon cheri."

America didn't reply, thinking everything through in silence. Was France really telling the truth? Did England really like him, like him? If so, what should he do about it? Sure, he liked England and what she thought of him really mattered but...love? It was all so confusing!

"So..." France seemed to be prompting.

"So?"

"Can I still count on your help?" she asked.

Alfred thought for another moment before nodding. "Yeah, sure," he replied, not exactly sure what he wanted to know at the moment.

***

Day Four-Merlin's pants! What does she think she's doing?

Yesterday was horrible, England though, recalling how America and France had insisted on spending the day with her...while still being completely fixed on each other. If that was what that frog had planned for her yesterday, she dreaded what was going to be in store for today.

She entered the building from the basement entrance and used the elevator to get to the meeting room floor. Anne found herself treasuring the solitude of being alone in the elevator, at least she could forget about Jeanne and Alfred for the moment.

As the elevator progressed closer to her designated floor, she started hearing what she thought was music. By the time she reached her destination, the music seemed to be at its loudest. With a sudden feeling of dread forming at the pit of her stomach, she realized it was coming from the meeting room. Almost at the same time, she recognized the lyrics of the song.

Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-Roma-ma-ah! Ga-ga-ooh-la-la! Want your bad romance.

Without another moment's hesitation, England burst into the room.

"Oh my..." she trailed off, her exclamation running dry on her lips.

There, almost right in front of her was France dancing Bad Romance...with America as her main audience. It was a small consolation that Jeanne wasn't dressed as Lady GaGa.

Okay, England thought. Now I'll take this game seriously.

***

AN: Sorry for that last part. The image of France singing that wouldn't leave my head. Anyway, it's not like she's doing it in a 'mature' way. She's kinda just singing and dancing to it.

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