Canada sat up in bed. It was the twenty-second, right? Then that means...
"Those idiots around the world are so gullible."
He made a sour face and climbed out of bed. Supposedly, the world was supposed to end yesterday, but it didn't. So clearly the Mayans weren't predicting that, much less they didn't know about leap year. Also, there was no weird blackout like people were saying there was supposed to be.
"Kumajiro, where are you?"
"Over here." He said quietly.
Canada had walked out of his room and into the kitchen. There was Kumajiro, cleaning his fur.
"What are you doing?"
"I was making pancakes."
"Oh."
Canada looked around the kitchen. It was a little messy, but an easy clean up compared to what him and someone else would have done.
Someone else...
"Who are you?"
Canada shook his head and looked at the dirty polar bear.
"I'm Canada, your owner."
He picked up Kumajiro and went to the bathroom to give him a bath.
About an hour later, Canada was sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket and surfing the web on his laptop. Of course America didn't like the thought of him getting something, but to Canada, it seemed as though America was troubled. He knew about the shooting, but, Canada didn't think that was the only reason.
"Let's see, today would be day nine, wouldn't it?"
Canada looked up at the ceiling, thinking. He counted in his head and then smiled.
"Day nine."
He looked back down at his computer and clicked on a website.
"Whoa! That's perfect!"
Canada walked out of the shop. Thankfully it was local and he didn't have to travel too far.
"I really hope America likes this!"
He smiled at his thoughts as he walked home.
He set the box down on the kitchen table with a huff. It was a long trudge back home with this heavy box and the knee deep snow. Canada pulled out a chair and slumped down into it. It was nice to relax for a bit.
"There's someone here."
"Huh?" Canada looked at his polar bear.
"There's someone at the door."
"Oh," Canada looked blankly at the bear and then got up to answer the door.
There stood a freezing Frenchman.
"Oi, may I come in, cherie?"
Canada stepped aside as France came in. He shivered as Canada shut the door behind him.
"Whoo! It's very cold out! How can you handle this cold?"
"You get used to it. I have a fire that you can sit by."
Canada lead France into the living. France sat down and watched as Canada put another log on the fire. He turned to France.
"What can I help you with?"
"Wine. I need some wine."
Canada stared at him. His long golden locks hung around his face. Making it more define and narrow. His bright blue eyes shone with delight.
"I don't have any."
Canada remembered the last time he gave France wine. He had forced Canada to drink with him and it ended with having sex and then a fight about being raped. Canada had a fuzzy memory of it, but some of the details were clear. He walked over and sat down on the opposite side of the couch of France.
"Ok, well, Mon Cherie, I would like to know what your plans are for tonight through tomorrow night."
"Why?"
"I want to spend some time with you... If you know what I mean..." France raised his eyebrows suggestively.
Canada looked away. He knew exactly what he meant, but he loved America. Plus, they always exchanged gifts at night, so he couldn't.
"I have plans."
"Aww, can you cancel them?"
Canada shook his head and looked at the Frenchman again.
"Come on, for me?"
France lead forward and put weight on his hands. He made a begging face. Canada scooted slightly closer to the arm rest. He didn't want to be rude.
"I can't."
France pulled up his knees and crawled closer. Canada gave a panicked look. France's lips drew up into a sly, evil smile. His eyes were glistening with seductive tones. Canada couldn't move. He was caught in France's eyes. He wanted those to be on America's...
When Canada snapped out of his daze, he felt a sharp pain shoot through his back. He was now on the floor and France was over him with a devilish look.
"Fr-France, what are you doing?"
"Onhonhon, just relax, Mon Cherie. It will be pleasurable."
France reached down for Canada's pants. Canada frantically fought with him, trying to keep on his own pants. France eventually won and grabbed onto Canada's wrists; holding them tightly down above his head as his other hand pulled down his pants.
Canada started shouting for help as France slowly traced little circles on Canada's legs. He didn't want this. He loved America and felt this was wrong for him to be doing.
As France just finished taking off his own pants, there was a loud slam of a door.
"Canada, Canada!"
"In he-"
France covered his mouth and gave him a stern look. They laid still; eyes locked with intensity.
"Canada!"
A tall blonde came around the corner into the living room. He spotted gold hair on the floor and raced around the couch.
"Dammit France! Get the hell off of him!"
America leaned down and put his arms under France's to render them useless. France struggled against America. Canada grabbed his blanket and covered his lower half as he scooted away.
"What the hell are you here for?"
"Oi, Mon Cherie, my love." France looked at Canada with longing eyes.
"What?" America looked at France's head and then at Canada.
Canada stared at them with terror.
"Canada, is this true?"
Canada moved his eyes to America's. They looked sadden by betrayal.
"No, he came here and tried to rape me."
America's face contorted to anger and dragged France to the door. France tried to wriggle free of America's grasp, but he was too strong. America opened the door and let France go.
"Get out. Canada doesn't love you. He loves me."
France turned and looked into the American's icy blue eyes. He had never seen that look come from America since World War II. His eyebrows furrowed and he sighed.
"My mistake. I'm sorry. I won't bother him again..."
France folded his pants and walked to his car to leave. America watched him drive away before he shut the door and went back to check on Canada.
"I'm sorry that-"
Canada leaped into his arms. America stood stunned and then wrapped his arms around Canada's hips.
"Thank you. I owe you..." He whispered into the blonde mop on America's head.
"No it's fine. I just saw the car and got worried..."
Canada pulled away and looked into the blue eyes he ever so longed to see always. They still had an icy look in them.
"You got worried about me?"
America nodded and gave a smile.
"Why wouldn't I get worried about my love?"
Canda's heart fluttered with joy. America had just called him his love. He tried to hide the grin.
"Well, I have a gift for you.."
"Oh?"
Canada pulled away from America's strong arms and headed into the kitchen. He had already put his pants on thank god. He reached for the box, but was stopped by arms around his waist.
"Let's leave the present tonight..." America whispered seductively into Canada's ear.
Canada almost let a noise escape his lips before he turned around and looked at America. America's eyes were dancing with softness. Before, Canada could make a move, America was leaning down and already kissing Canada's soft lips.
They both moved to the couch after America had laid Canada on the table next to the gift.
The box with a statue of nine pipes made into a piper stayed on the table until much, much later that night.