*cracks knuckles* Alright, I'm going to do this without releasing France's (or my) perverted side! Yeah! I can so do this...

France: You know, whenever you say that, you always fail?

Me: *headdesk*

Canada: Um...Ms. Paiges?

Diclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, and *sigh* I probably never will.

READ THIS NOTE: In this chapter, Canada and France's relationship is NOT established yet. Please TAKE NOTE OF THIS.

And here. We. Go. *snaps fingers and meteorite falls to earth* Darn, wrong one again! Oh, and this one might be a little longer 'cause I absolutely ADORE Canada.

Chapter 3: Something Special

Matthew Williams took the elevator down to the Lobby of the hotel and sighed wearily. Yesterday, at the meeting, they had gotten nothing done-What else was new?-and the fact that he was practically invisible didn't help matters and only boosted his irritation. The countries were having another meeting tomorrow (this one to discuss global warming or something), so the Canadian decided that he would go out for some fresh air today while he still could.

Ignoring the odd looks people gave him when the door to the hotel door supposedly opened by itself-Am I really that unnoticeable?-, Canada stepped out into the cool morning. He took a right turn and pushed his glasses further up his nose.

He placed his hands in his Canadian themed jacket and, just as he rounded another corner, collided with someone.

"M-maple!" he yelped and at the same time, whomever he had run into cursed, "Merde!"

Matthew placed his hands against the sidewalk and looked at...

"F-Francis?" Matthew stuttered.

"Matheiu?" Francis looked equally shocked, and Matthew noted the dark circles under his eyes. Was he okay?

The Frenchman stood up and offered a hand to the Canadian. He reluctantly took it and stood, brushing off the dirt on his pants.

"Well, well, well!" Francis laughed, causing Canada to jolt at the sudden noise. "Fancy meeting you here, Canada! Say, have you been stalking me, mon cher?" Anyone but Matthew would have missed the amount of force that it took for Francis to say that one flirtatious sentence.

Matthew fixed Francis with a hard stare. "France, what's wrong?"

Francis's grin immediately faded and his eyes widened slightly. He saw through me? "What?" he asked, his grin returning to his handsome face. Matthew quirked an eyebrow.

"Is something wrong?" Canada asked. France gulped. The Canadian sighed.

"Come with me, Francis," Matthew sighed, brushing past said Frenchman, surprised by his own bravery. And he wasn't stuttering! How about that. "And be prepared to tell me everything that's on your mind." The Canadian called back.

Francis blinked a couple times before a smirk graced his features; Matthieu was asking him to follow him? The Frenchman hurried after the Canadian.

This day might just get better after all.

The two had said nothing on their walk. Some glances and meaningful looks were exchanged, but no words. Finally Canada turned abruptly, into a playground. Francis blinked for a couple of seconds before following the Canadian. Canada led him to the far corner of the playground, where a lone tire swing attached to the tree by a rope stood. The Frenchman raised an eyebrow.

Matthew slipped into the tire and began pushing himself. He only got a few feet off the ground, but that was okay with him. He liked coming here. "Y-you can sit over th-there," the Canadian said, pointing to a nearby bench as he swung. Great, I'm stuttering again.

The Frenchman obliged, watching as the Canadian swung happily, absent-mindedly smiling as he watched Mathieu close his eyes and smile against the wind. Francis's heart gave a little kick as the sun glinted off of the Canadian's hair. Which matched his eyes. And his skin.

"So, wh-what's wrong, eh?" Canada brought his right leg out to stop the swing. Then he placed his hands over the top of the tire and rested his head in his arms, quirking an eyebrow at the Frenchman.

"Excusez moi?"

Matthew sighed for the umpteenth time that day. "What's wrong, eh?"

Francis flashed his signature grin. "What makes you think something is wrong, mon ami?"

Matthew snapped.

"Damn it, Francis!" he yelled. "St-stop treating me like a kid, okay? I-I mean, you're always smiling and-and joking around, but I know that y-you have feelings too! And I-I just know something's wrong-okay? You h-have circles under your eyes, and you're not as vibrant! I-in fact, th-the entire way here, you said nothing! I know something is wrong-and whenever you try to avoid talking to me about it-" It hurts because I want to know everything about you. "I just...please." The Canadian huffed, and Francis gawked at him, shocked.

Never had he seen the shy, practically invisible Canadian man so...passionate about something.

He felt his heart rate quicken. What the hell? The Frenchman gasped inwardly. I'm never the one that falls first! Never, ever, ever!

Canada looked up at France and frowned sadly. "Tell me whatever's on your mind. You c-can trust me...I promise." Francis felt his heart skip a beat. Again. The third time that day. Merde, merde, merde. I'm falling for him. I'm falling for him first. This is not good.

France laughed, but a hint of sadness laced it. "Well, I guess I just now realized...you know. I don't really have anybody that actually loves me."

Matthew blinked. "Huh? E-eh? You don't have someone?"

Francis chuckled. "This is Francis Bonnefoy you're talking about, Matthew! Of course I have someone, it's just-"

"No, not like that. I mean something real. Something...special," Matthew asked, his big eyes boring into Francis's. Francis blinked. How can he act so innocent! Does he know what he's doing to me! Curse you, Mathieu, for making me the lovestruck maiden in this situation!

"Er, uh..." Something special, huh? "I don't think I have anyone like that, mon cher. " Francis concluded. "That's what I meant. Nobody loves me for real. It's always a one time thing, you know?" The Canadian nodded. So this was what was getting Francis so down? This was what he was so upset over?

Canada's mouth didn't know whether to be wet or dry.

He didn't know how to respond to that; he had nothing to offer.

The two sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

Then, the Frenchman stood, a weary smile on his face. "Thanks for listening, Mathieu. I, um...it really helps. I think I should go now." He flashed said Canadian one of his breath-taking smiles and began walking away.

Matthew's mind was on overload as he stared at Francis's departing figure. I...? No. I don't just want to listen. I want to help you with your problem too. Matthew pictured Francis as his usual self, smiling, laughing, making perverted comments. I want you to smile like you usually do. Laugh. I don't love you like this. His brain barely registered the fact that he had thought "love". Francis...The Canadian stared at France's gradually disappearing figure.

I wonder if, one day, he's going to push me away...

Matthew pulled himself out of the tire and chased after the Frenchman.

...and never talk to me about anything...

"Francis!" Matthew cried and launched himself at said Frenchman, wrapping his arms around the slightly taller man's waist and burying his face in Francis's coat. Francis's mind died a little as he felt the Canadian's touch, and how tightly he clung to him, as if he never wanted him to leave.

...Please don't go. I want...

The pair stood there for a while, Matthew's head buried in Francis's back. Then Matthew pulled away, and France turned around to look at him.

"Canada?" Francis said.

Matthew looked down and blushed profusely. "Francis..." He hesitated. Then the Canadian lightly pressed his lips against Francis's, and pulled away just as quickly.

Francis's mind died again.

Matthew, obviously ashamed, looked to the side and whispered, "If it's okay with you..." Somehow, the Canadian found the courage to look into Francis's eyes. "I'd-I'd like to be that something special. I, um, love...y-mmph!" He was instantly shut up as Francis's lips came crashing against his own. As it went along, the kiss got more intimate; feel free to launch into your imaginitive worlds, fangirls.

Matthew pulled away first, and he was blushing like mad. Francis was grinning like a madman.

"So you were stalking me!" Francis said, grabbing Canada's hand and leading him back to the tire swing. He was laughing at Matthew's shrieks and protests.

Matthew smiled though. Francis-his Francis-was laughing, and the sound was music to his ears. Francis allowed Matthew to get onto the tire swing.

"Wha-what are you doing?" Matthew asked.

"Oh, just having some fun with you, mon amour," Francis winked. Matthew sighed, then, he leaned in to give Francis a peck on the forehead.

"You're obnoxious; do you know that?"

The Frenchman smiled. "I am not. I am simply creative, Matthieu."

If the tire swing had had a mouth, it would have said "Awww". But it didn't; and no matter what kind of adorable situations she ran into, she never could. But at least she could sit there, hanging from that tree, watching silently and contentedly as her work was done.

Um, should I post another chapter? I have no idea what the pairing should be, though...Those last three were my besties! And yes...I can't describe kisses at all. I've never been kissed! xD

France: Have you, now?

Canada and Me: Francis!

Please read and review and no flames, mon chers!