Chapter Three: Paris

Francis Bonnefoy, or France as he was known, had to cancel his plans. His boss said that someone very important was arriving in Paris today and that they would be staying with him. This did not please the Frenchman very much, since he had been looking forward to spending time with his friends before the World Meeting.

France walked towards Paris's airport, humming to himself in French. He wondered who could be so important that they had to stay with him, and not in a hotel. A shriek, much like the one Romano once gave when seeing France, pierced the Frenchman's ears. He snapped out of his daydream and looked around. There was no one. France shook his head and kept on walking. Another scream followed, and this time he found the source. It was girl, who was being cornered by three men in an alley. France sighed. The attitude of some men these days. He walked calmly towards the girl and the men.

"Ce n'est pas une façon de traiter une dame messieurs." France told the men, who turned toward him.

"Sortez d'ici. Ou autre." One of the men said. France laughed.

"Ou bien quoi?" With the force of an elephant, one of the men slammed France into the adjacent wall. The other produced a knife that he used cut in his arm. France winced. Of course, being a nation it would heal quickly, but it still hurt.

"Leave him alone!" The girl said. Her voice was laced with a faint British accent. The third man pushed her against the wall.

"Tais-toi." He said to her. France pulled himself to his feet.

"Je l'ai dit, et je le dirai encore." He said through his teeth "Ce n'est pas une façon de traiter une dame." The two men who had held onto France came after him. The nation ducked, so that they both ran into each other. The pure force of it knocked them both to the ground. France laughed. This was easier than attacking Italy...unless Germany was around. The third man held a knife to the girl's neck.

"Prenez un pas de plus. Je vous défie." The man said. France froze. He most certainly did not want the girl to get hurt, but he couldn't just stand there. The expression on the girl's face changed to anger. With what seemed to be a great force, she slammed her foot onto the man hold her. The man let her go and held his foot. The girl grabbed a suitcase off the ground and France's hand. Understanding what she was about to do, France ran along side her.

The pair ran a good three blocks before coming to a stop at a bench. They both sat down. France glanced over at the girl and got a good look at her appearance. The girl looked about sixteen. Her hair was a dark chocolate brown that was curled elegantly and pulled into a ponytail off to the side and her eyes were a beautiful royal blue. Her clothing of choice was a simple white button up work shirt and a pair of light blue pants that stopped above her knees. A pair of white heels were on her feet and a golden necklace with a gold jewel shaped charm hung around her neck.

"Êtes-vous bien, mademoiselle?" France asked her. She nodded.

"I'm fine, just a little shaken up." The girl answered in English.

"Do you speak French?" France asked in the same language.

"No, I only understand it. I can't speak it." She answered before standing. The girl brushed the dirt off her shirt. "Thank you for saving me, by the way. I had just arrived here when those brutes tried to get this from me." She gestured towards her necklace. "It's a very important object where I'm from and I can't lose it."

"We should get you back to ze airport." France said, standing up as well. "Whomever iz meeting you zere will be worried, non?"

"Yes, I believe so." France and the girl walked side-by-side back to the airport.

"Thank you once again Monsieur-" The girl said.

"Bonnefoy." France answered for her. "I am Francis Bonnefoy."

"Thank you then, Monsieur Bonnefoy. I am Rachel, a representative sent from my country to France." France blinked before taking the girl's hand.

"If you are Rachel, zen I believe we 'ad no reason to walk back 'ere." Rachel blinked while France laughed quietly. "I am ze one zey sent to get you. I'm am sorry for what 'appened, but I beileved zat ze plane would arrive later zen it did."

"It's quite alright, Monsieur Bonnefoy. There's no need to apologize."

"Call me Francis, mon cher." Rachel blushed a nodded. "Follow me and I'll show you where you'll be staying in Paris."

Rarity couldn't believe her luck. The man who had saved her had been the same one who was to meet her at the airport. She was glad that someone had stopped those three. The unicorn girl suspected that they were with the same group that had taken the Elements from the Tree of Harmony in the first place. However, this was only a guess.

Francis led her to a beautiful flat that overlooked the city. Rarity smiled. Being sent to France for the mission wasn't so bad after all.

"This is very beautiful, Francis." Rarity said, smiling. Francis smiled back.

"Merci, Rachel." He answered. Rarity's highly trained eyes caught sight of the tear in Francis's shirt. Then, she remembered that one of the men had cut him.

"Oh my stars!" She exclaimed. "In the excitement I forgot you were hurt!" Francis looked over at the tear.

"It is nothing, mademoiselle!" Francis reassured her. "Just a scratch!"

"Either way let me see it." Rarity took his arm and looked at the cut. It was barely even there, as if it had healed. Francis tore his arm from her grip.

"See, madame? Just a scratch." Francis laughed, but Rarity raised an eyebrow. He was definitely hiding something. Then again, so was she.

"Then at least let me fix the tear. It's the least I could do."

Despite Francis's protests, Rarity was sewing up the tear. Generosity-1, Frenchman-0. Francis was leaning over her shoulder, watching her work. Rarity pushed her red work glasses up on the bridge of her nose. With Francis watching her, it made the Equestrian uncomfortable. The only one whomever saw Rarity work was her younger sister, Sweetie Belle.

"Finished." She said, cutting the thread and handing it back to Francis. The Frenchman examined it.

"Very impressive, mademoiselle." Francis said, smiling. He pulled the shirt back on. "As if the blade had not even cut into it."

"I am a designer, back home after all." Rarity explained, taking off her glasses. "A very popular one at that."

"I wish I could see you work more often." Francis said. "It's like watching art being made."

"Thank you." Rarity felt a blush form on her face. "Now if you excuse me, I'll be getting settled-" A nearby phone rang.

"Ze guest room is to ze right." Francis told her. "If you excuse me." Francis went to answer the phone, and Rarity went to the guest room.

France stopped the phone from ringing and answered it.

"Bonjour?" He asked.

"Hello, frog." A British accented voice answered on the other end. France perked up.

"Bonjour Angleterre~" He sang into the phone. England groaned on the other end.

"Shut up. I need to talk to you." England said rather harshly.

"Someone woke up on ze wrong side of ze bed." France muttered.

"I heard that."

"Sure you did. Anyway, can't it wait until ze meeting tomorrow? I'm busy at ze moment."

"It's about that meeting, you git." France raised an eyebrow. "America moved it to next week."

"Quoi? Did 'e say why?"

"If that idoit did, I didn't hear. The line went dead before he could."

"Does zis mean I won't see my Angleterre until-"

"Hey, Arthur?" An unfamiliar voice came from England's end. "What do you want to do with the rest of the food?"

"Just leave it on the counter. I'll get to it later." England told the person before returning to the conversation."And don't call me that, frog."

"Who was zat?" France asked, curiously.

"A guest of mine and what does it matter? My personal life is none of your business."

"Don't be like zat Arthur. I know you want to see me-"

"I certainly do not want to see you! Nor do I want to be near you! Both physically and geographically! I just called to tell you about the meeting, nothing else. Good bye!" France heard the dial tone on the other end. He placed the phone down.

"You 'aven't changed at all, 'ave you Arthur?" France said to himself, although Britian's words had, for once, truly hurt him.

"Francis?" Rachel's voice asked. France snapped out of his trance.

"Oui?" He replied in his native language.

"I was wondering if I could use the phone for a moment." Rachel asked. "I promised my sister I would call her when I arrived." France nodded and handed the phone to her. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. I am fine." France answered. "My friend just called me is all."

"Did they say anything-"

"Non, non, non, cherí. 'E just told me zat a meeting zat I 'ave was switched to next week. You see, I am ze French representative for ze United Nations."

"Alright, just making sure that you're alright." Rachel repiled. France grinned a bit and headed off towards the kitchen.

"You're so generous, it's almost rare to find zat in a person, zese days." He called to her. Although he couldn't see it, Rachel began blushing.