A/N: Hi, friends! So, I have a little something, something to share with you at the end of this week's chapter. Hold on until then. Because I promise you it's 100% worth it. So, let's jump into things here, shall we?

"Terra!" France practically tackled me at the door. I didn't think I was gone that long, "I'm so happy you're home!"

"Hi, Papa," I struggled for breath. My, France was an affectionate one.

"Love of God, Frog," Britain saved my spine from disfigurement, "The poor girl just got home. You make it seem like she's been through war."

"She hasn't been home all day," France eased up on his embrace, "And I missed her so much, Angleterre. Can you blame me? Look at this face!"

"That's all well and good," Britain stood his ground while my face was pressed between France's soft hands, "But we've had the personal space talk."

"Fine," France let me go, pouting in defeat, "You always spoil my fun."

"Hello, Terra," Britain blew France off, not feeding into his tantrum, "Did you play nice with Sealand today?"

"I did," I nodded, following suit, "He's so sweet. I could just eat him up."

"You seem tired, darling," Britain looked me over, "Are you feeling ok? There's no way Sealand wore you out that much."

"He did," I took a seat on the stairs, "I adore Sealand and I had a lot of fun today, but he's so full of energy. I'm getting too old for this."

"Hold on," France popped out of his angsty cloud, "Terra, how old are you"

"Papa!" I gasped, "I'm appalled. I thought you would know better than to ask a lady her age."

"I'm so sorry, cheri," France sat with me, draping an arm around me.

"I should slap you," I went on. The apologetic sparkle in France's eye was absolutely priceless. I kissed his cheek, "But I won't. Because I love you."

"I love you, too, mon petite," he pulled me into his lap, "We should get you a bath, no?"

"Yes, please." I had sand in places I didn't want it and a bath sounded like a hell of an idea. Especially in Britain's bathtub.

France brought me into the bathroom and helped me into the bathtub. This was nice. The warm water wrapped around me like a hug and having France's company is always nice. I tried getting him to bring me some wine, but he said I was too young. It's been a few centuries since anyone told me I was too young for anything. And that was usually from the man I loved and the father of my children. If anyone had the right to, it's him. When I got all clean, France wrapped me in a warm, soft towel and brought me into the bedroom. I dangled my feet over the edge of the bed while he got me a set of pajamas.

"Terra," France called out from the closet, "Do you have a color preference?"

"No," I allowed, "Surprise me."

"I like that about you, cheri," he came back with a handful of light blue silk, "You're not picky. You say yes to life."

"It's not necessarily that," I started getting dressed, "I just trust your judgment. You have an eye."

"Thank you, Terra," France melted, "That's very sweet of you. Now, you need to get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a big day."

"What's tomorrow?" I wondered, blissfully unaware I had plans.

"You'll see," he tucked me in and kissed my forehead, "Good night, Terra. Fais de beaux rêves."

"Good night, Papa…" What the hell was that all about?

France was scheming. I could tell. But I was also too exhausted to care. So, I shut my eyes for maybe thirty seconds and I was out like a light. Between the fresh air and Sealand, the little ball of energy, I was tapped out. For now, we'll just let France be France and Terra be Terra and let Terra go to bed like Papa told her to.

"Terra," a soft voice whispered in my ear, "Terra…Terra, réveille-toi, cheri…Busy day today."

I nestled deeper into my mountain of blankets, doing my best to go back to sleep, "Papa…Je ne veux pas me réveiller…"

"That's too bad." I never expected France to be much of a morning person, "You need to wake up. I want us to go play. And we need to be going before your father finds out we're gone."

"Why?" I groaned, "Why does it matter if Britain knows?"

"Because," he sat me up…whether I wanted to or not, "If he knows, he'll try to stop me and we can't have that."

"Alright," I didn't think much of it, "But coffee first."

"Of course," France assured, "You're my little princess, Terra, and I want to treat you like one. It's a shame that it's taken us so long to do this. If it hadn't been so late, we would've done this when we first met. Not to mention, it's been a while since I've had a project. Allons. We have work to do."

"I don't want to," I groaned, laying my head on his shoulder, "Can't we go tomorrow?"

"No," he ran his hand down my back, "Your father and I have somewhere to be tomorrow. We have to go now before he wakes up."

"Fine," I sighed out, still half dead, "Espresso."

"As much as you want."

"And a bagel."

"One the size of your head, if you so desire."

He better come through with that. Because I need something to tell the boys upstairs to get their asses in gear. Especially if I'm going to be spending the day with France. I know I said Sealand was a bundle of energy, but at least I could manage to keep him somewhat under control. France, on the other hand? France is likely a loose cannon. Like a nuclear explosion in a human being. As quickly as I could, I got dressed and followed France out the door before Britain could wake up. I noticed a note on the counter on our way out. I'm sure if it wasn't there, Britain would be blowing up someone's phone. And I have a feeling that France is going to want to work uninterrupted.

For the rest of the day, I became something I never thought I would. I was at France's mercy. Not that I'm complaining. Being France's doll wasn't exactly something I predicted to be in the cards for me, but how bad could it be? Really? We spent our day in and out of shops, boutiques, private tailors and seamstresses. Nothing was too good or too expensive for France's little girl. Lucky me. However, France figured it'd be an idea to get me in something I never thought would ever be possible.

"No way in hell," I put my foot down, staring at myself in the mirror, "This isn't happening."

"Come on, Terra," France begged, "It's fine. Besides, I'm sure you look absolutely adorable."

"No," I wasn't going anywhere. Like I said before, France was a sucker for putting me in dresses. However, this time around, I was no longer his little girl. I was a full-blown woman. Or, more accurately, I was a madame from the Moulin Rouge. The bright red skirt was practically nonexistent and the corset was killing me. Knee-high black leather boots weren't helping either.

"Terra," he whined, "Come on. I just want to see."

I mean, don't get me wrong. I looked dead sexy. But I didn't need to be out and about like this, "Too bad. You got me out of bed this morning. Consider this payback."

"You're being dramatic." That's rich coming from him, "I love you, cheri, but there's only room for one drama queen on this adventure and that's me. Now, get out here and show me my good work."

"I'm not doing it!" I protested.

"Fine," France caved, "But at least let me come in there."

"I don't know, Papa," I stared into the mirror, feeling my skin peel off.

"It's alright," he assured, "You'll be fine."

France's gentleness put me at ease, "Screw it. I'll come out."

"That's my girl!" And so, I stepped out of the dressing room, wanting nothing more than a large glass of brandy. The decanter that Britain kept in the drawing room would do the trick. If not more. But the look on France's face…It made this whole dog and pony show entirely worth it, "Oh, Terra. You look so cute!"

"I look like a cheap French whore."

"Oh, no, no, no," France wrapped his arms around me, "You don't come cheap, cheri. You're more like an expensive French escort. You'd fetch at least forty thousand Euros a night. Maybe fifty, depending on what you'd be willing to do."

"Thank you, Papa," I cringed, "I'm glad you're looking to be my pimp."

"No," he promised, "I wouldn't do that to you. I'm just saying you're stunning, Terra. Not that I want you turning tricks."

"I'm getting out of this," I squirmed out of his arms, "And we'll never speak of this again."

"Deal." Now, I see why Britain would try to stop France from doing this, "Hey, Terra?"

"Yes, Papa?" I pulled the string on the corset, finally being able to breathe again.

"Do you still trust me?"

Uh-oh. This feels like one of those red flag things, "Somewhat. Why?"

"Because we're going to get out of here and go home," France swore, "I called your father and he's tied up with your brother right now, so he won't be home until later tonight. It's just you and me."

"Alright," I changed back and walked out again, "You promise we don't have to go in any more stores?"

"I promise," he pulled me into his arms, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize how miserable this would've made you."

"You just wanted some fun," I accepted, "And honestly, up until that last one, I was having fun, too."

"Really? You're not just saying that to pacify me?"

"Not at all," I nuzzled my face in his ribs, "We could do this again."

"Well," France took our bags and my hand, "Since we've been on this journey of you being made a little cuter, can I play with your hair, too?"

"Totally."

"Yay!"

Did I just sign a death warrant? Because I got that cold asshole on death row feeling. It's France. What's the worst he could do? I'm sure I'll be fine. Everything grows back. Besides, even though today was a bit rougher than I had anticipated, I'm sure France wouldn't put me through anything else to stress me out. I still trusted his judgment. Just because we had this incident didn't mean anything else would go wrong. Although…We sat in the bathroom for a solid hour and a half while I watched chunks of blonde hair fall to the floor.

"You really are quite the beauty, Terra," France wrapped his arms around my shoulders, putting the scissors down, "And now, you look more like me than Britain."

"I do," I looked myself over in the mirror, playing with my much shorter hair, "I look so cute."

"You have been for as long as I've known you," he kissed the top of my head, digging around in the vanity drawer for some kind of product, "The little girl I found in the gutter."

"Naked, cold, and covered in mud," I remembered, "I was there. You were the only person to show me any kindness, Papa. And I'll forever be grateful for that."

"You're welcome, cheri," France ran his fingers through my hair, focused on my roots, "You're very precious to me and I'm so glad you're here. I wouldn't trade you for all the tea in China."

"I love you, too," I cuddled into him.

"Francis?" a voice called from the front door, "Are you home?"

"I'm going to go take a walk," I got up, stretching a bit, "I'll let you and Britain have a moment alone."

"Alright, sweetheart," France kissed my cheek, "Go on. Be careful."

"I will." I walked out of the bathroom and threw a light jacket on. Things were starting to cool off and I didn't want to freeze.

It really feels like quite some time ago when France and I first met. A beautiful Frenchman in the low light that was kind enough to give me the time of day in my hour of need. Even Britain has come around to the idea of me. I've made so many new friends since I've gotten here and I'm so happy to be where I am. Some of them need a little fixing, but then again, we're all like that in one way or another, aren't we? I've loved nothing more than being here and the fact that they all treat me like one of their own gives me hope. I'm glad they've all turned out so well…

"Pardon me," a thick accent hung in the air.

"Hi, Britain," I smiled, "Did you need me for something?"

Britain moved in closer, "Terra?"

"Yeah?" I stepped back. And he talks about France and personal space.

"You…" he poked at my face. Then, Britain let out a heavy, heavy sigh, "You spent the day with France alone, didn't you?"

"Is it that obvious?" I blushed.

"This is definitely his handiwork," Britain scoffed, "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," I slipped my arm in his.

"That bloody frog has tried doing this with me on several occasions," he confessed, "Apparently, there's something wrong with looking my age."

"And?" I wondered, "What happened?"

"I said no every time," Britain grumbled, "Some line about how I don't say yes to life or some silliness like that came about."

Where have I heard that line before? Oh, France. You're lucky you're so pretty, "Sounds like him."

"But it suits you," he held back a smile.

"Thank you, Britain," I melted inside.

"Can I ask you something, Terra?" Britain began.

"Sure," I insisted, "What's on your mind?"

"Who are you?" he wondered, "Really."

"I've already told you," I pointed out, "I'm just a girl passing through."

Britain gave me a skeptical look, "Really?"

"Really."

"Nothing more?"

"Nothing more."

"Alright," he finally let it go, draping an arm around me, "You really have been such a delight to have around, Terra."

"I love you, too," I laid my head on his shoulder, "Even when you're all prickly with me."

"Hey!"

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"Well…" Britain caved, "I guess I can be a little…insufferable sometimes. Did France, by any chance, tell you what tomorrow is?"

"No," I shook my head, "What's tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," he explained, "France and I have a world meeting. All the countries get together and discuss their respective affairs."

"That's what Sealand was complaining about," I remembered.

"I think it's time you come to one," Britain decided, "If that's alright with you."

"Really?" I perked up.

"I mean," he figured, "You'll likely be the topic of conversation anyway. You might as well be there."

"Ok," I agreed, "I'm in. Can I take Sealand as a plus one?"

"You may not," Britain let out a little giggle, "Come now, darling. It's getting late. You should be getting to bed. I'm sure you had a very big day today."

"Huge," I confirmed, "I don't realize how much of a handful France can be until we're alone. How do you do it?"

"Vices help," he brought me back inside, "But he's really ok when you get used to him and his antics. Don't tell him I told you that."

"Lips are sealed," I promised, kissing his cheek at the stairs, "Good night, Britain."

"Good night, love," Britain reciprocated, "Be sure to send France your love as well."

"I will," I just wanted to crash at this point. But if I didn't say good night to France, he'd kill me. I poked my head in the drawing room and found him with a glass of white wine in his hand, "Bonne nuit, Papa. Je vais vous voir dans la matinée."

"Already?" France got up, leaving his wine glass on the end table, "It feels like you just woke up."

"I'm very tired, Papa," I fell into his arms.

"Alright, cheri," he led me to my bedroom, got my pajamas, and tucked me into bed, "Bonne nuit, ma petite. Je vais vous voir dans la matinée."

Just as I started to drift off, I heard some voices from the doorway. As if I didn't know who they were. It's not like Britain would let just anyone into his…Never mind. I was once that anyone. Isn't there some sort of saying about glass houses and throwing stones that applies here? Well, he wouldn't let anyone in at this late of an…Wait, that was me, too.

"I don't want her to go, Francis…"

"We have to let her go sometime, Arthur. All good parents know when to let their baby leave the nest. And no parent is ever prepared for it. But she is. I know she is."

"You're sure?"

"I'm positive."

"It's settled then. Tomorrow, Terra will become a nation."

Terra's going to become a what?

A/N: Plot twist! Britain didn't just want Terra to come to the world meeting to hang out. They're going to discuss her becoming a country! Yay! Also, I want a France. In case that hasn't been obvious since day one. I had a dirty dream with France in it the other night. But that's here nor there. MORE IMPORTANTLY! Other than Terra's bonding moments with her fathers…

I found something wonderful that I need to share with all of you. I started reading a Hetalia fic called Famous First Words. It's on this site. It's in my favorites right on top. You can't miss it. My god, do I recommend the shit out of it. I started reading it on Valentine's Day and I'm at the last chapter. I can't bring myself to read it because it's ongoing yet and I don't want to have to wait miserable for the next update! That's why I update weekly, so you don't have to deal with much of a hangover. But it's FrUK, Spamano, and PruCan fic. England's a porn star, Canada's a bartender, Romano's a stripper. They work at a seedy night club and the BTT are detectives. It's SO DAMN GOOD. OH MY GOD. I CAN'T GUSH ABOUT IT ENOUGH! It's just…UUUUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. My only gripe about it is the portrayal of Russia, but that's damn near the standard across most Hetalia fic. But love of God, go read Famous First Words. It's rapidly becoming one of my favorites.

Now, for this week's question, it's going to be another plot twist. Do you have any questions for me? Nothing's off limits. Go ahead and ask whatever you want. I'll answer to the best of my ability. The only thing I won't answer is anything that gives spoilers for this story. I'm sorry. But that's the only rule. Anything else is fair game. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to take my dog outside to tinkle. See you next chapter! xx