Rivalry

Part 3

"No."

Prussia crossed his arms over his chest, his expression plainly reading 'you're going to regret it if you don't give me what I want'. "You can't ban us from your bar. We're your most loyal customers."

"Just because you scare most of my other customers away!"

Since they were in England anyway for this meeting, they'd decided to go grace their favourite bartender with their awesome presence. Unfortunately, he seemed to be in a rather foul mood today. He was standing in front of the door to his pub, crossing his arms over his chest and flashing them a furious glare.

France sighed, slipping his hand into the pocket of his coat for his wallet. It came out along with a bottle of lube, which he slipped back in with a wink at Prussia. "How much would it require for you to change your mind?"

The bartender glared at him distastefully, looking even more disgusted. If that was even possible. "More than you have, so you might as well go find some other pub."

"Ah, but mon ami. No other is so strategically placed. And we've grown quite partial to your drinks." And the help that you employ. For some reason, the waiters at this pub seemed much more agreeable to France's advances than those at most of England's places. Something that he greatly enjoyed.

"No. Now leave me alone." And, before they could say anything else, he'd stepped backwards and slammed the door in their faces.

For a few moments, France and Prussia just stared at the now closed door as if expecting it to open up again if they were persistent enough. However, eventually Prussia sighed in irritation and turned toward his friend. "Looks like we'll have to find somewhere else."

France sighed. "Unfortunately." And he'd had his eyes on the cute blond who cleaned tables in the back. He'd have to complain to England later about his citizens. He turned to where Spain was sitting on the stoop, looking rather dejected as he stared down at the ground.

Prussia noticed and immediately set his elbows on his friend's head, leaning over so he could look at Spain's face upside down. "Cheer up. Your little boy toy can't stay mad at you forever."

Spain sighed. "I didn't do anything."

"I didn't know that it was necessary for you to actually do something for Romano to be angry with you. Come on, cheer up. We can go raid Westen's beer that he thinks I don't know he's hiding in his office."

Spain didn't reply for a moment, seemingly not even in the mood to be cheered up, but then he sighed and slowly rose to his feet. "All right."

Prussia didn't know why his brother even bothered attempting to hide his stash of beer. If there was one thing that Prussia was good at—and he was awesome in so many ways that it would be impossible to count them all—it was getting into places that he wasn't supposed to.

Which was how they managed to break into Germany's house (as Prussia had lost his key…again), office, and safe (which was hidden behind a safe…really?) at a speed that would have put any burglar to shame.

"So, what is this awesome idea that you came up with?" Prussia questioned, as they immediately set into the beer. He leaned back appreciatively in his brother's chair, eyeing the beer proudly. This was better than anything that England could come up with by a long shot.

France immediately grinned and leaned forward, his eyes attentive on his friend. "Ah, mon ami, I have come up with the perfect plan."

"To do what?" Prussia looked semi-suspicious at the remark. Spain had opted to ignore them and instead was leaning against the wall with his own bottle of beer while he texted rapidly with his cell phone. Probably to Lovi. Probably to beg him to tell him why he was so angry.

"Simple, mon ami," France replied, grinning brightly in self-satisfaction. This was an excellent plan, if he did say so himself. And so entertaining. L'amour was so fun. Even if he would ultimately be helping his rival… He considered the entertainment gained by messing with England and America's minds to be worth the affront against the natural order. He'd make England's life a living hell later… "We are going to help Amérique and Angleterre get over their two decade-running sexual tension."

Prussia stared at his friend in disbelief and then immediately shook his head and took a long swig of his drink. "I think I'm too sober to understand you. You want to help England and America get together? Why?"

"L'amour!" That should be obvious. Even to Prussia, who France sometimes suspected of not having a romantic bone in his body. "It is a crime against l'amour to let such passionate emotions go to waste."

Prussia continued to stare at him and then leaned over to swipe Spain's bottle, which he'd left beside him on the floor as he stared at the screen of his phone as if waiting desperately for a response. Which he probably was.

"I'm definitely not drunk enough. What do you think we are? Some damn matchmaking service?" He took a long drink and then slammed the bottle down on the floor for no apparent reason. "I mean, we've already gotten this idiot—" he waved vaguely toward Spain, who was so engrossed in writing back a response to the text that he hadn't even noticed that he'd been dragged into the conversation "—together with his crabby boy toy. We've helped out Westen to get together with Feli. Which is totally unfair, as Feli is way too awesome to be hanging around with my bruder. And now you want us to involve ourselves with those two idiots?"

"Oui." France nodded immediately. "For l'amour."

Prussia took another drink and then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he eyed France suspiciously. "Well, then if we're a matchmaking service, why aren't we getting paid for this?"

France hesitated. "Paid?"

"Yeah, you know like those dating sites. You put up a profile and then set yourself up on dates."

Spain lifted his head from his intense text messaging conversation. He seemed to have returned to his normal self, as he was grinning rather brightly. "Hey, I remember that. Didn't you make a profile?"

Prussia's skin almost instantly turned a rather interesting shade of pink. "Ha…not seriously. I was just playing around."

France grinned. This sounded good. "And how many lovely ladies asked you out?"

Prussia's flush deepened and he suddenly looked down, as if he'd just noticed that he was holding a drink. "I forget now… It was a long time ago."

"Three!" Spain answered cheerily. "One of them was a mud-wrestler and the other two had albino fetishes!"

Prussia was instantly across the room and had tackled Spain. "Shut up, idiot! That's just because they were all intimidated by my awesomeness!!"

"And I think that none of them ever responded to your second email, right?"

"They couldn't handle my awesomeness!"

France grinned. As much as he'd love to let this go on—he made a mental note to go searching for Prussia's profile later—they had other things to be doing. "Mes amis, don't forget. I haven't told you the plan yet."

They both paused for a moment and turned toward him, Prussia on Spain's back and tugging his hair while he held Spain's vibrating cell phone out of reach, as Spain attempted to grab at it and extract Prussia's hand from his hair.

"What are you doing, anyway?" Prussia questioned, ignoring France in favour of the more interesting device in his hand. He ignored Spain's protests and flipped the phone open, opening the text message. Immediately his eyes widened.

"What the fuck? You've been sending dirty text messages and didn't tell us!"

And now France was by his side and had grabbed the phone too, flipping through the text messages. A lewd grin started to cross his face as he beamed.

"My…my…Antoine. I think I've been underestimating you."

Prussia was staring in shock at his friend and then glanced back at the phone, his eyes widening slightly. "Who knew that Romano was that kinky?"

"Give it back!"

"Would you like to respond, mon ami?" France questioned, handing the phone back to Prussia.

"I don't know. I think that Tonio has been doing a pretty good job of keeping up the conversation himself." He held the open phone in front of Spain's face, ignoring his attempts to free himself. "How would you respond to this one?"

Spain stared at the phone, attempting to read the moving object. After a few moments, he managed to finally focus his eyes long enough to read it through.

And almost immediately passed out from a combination of shock, intoxication, and blood loss from the massive nosebleed that suddenly spouted from his nostrils.

A/N: …Mud-wrestler. That was so freaking random. I don't even know. I'd love to see Prussia's profile on a dating site. I can just imagine it… And Spain and Romano are being naughty ;D

Blah, I feel like this is so slow right now. Things should start getting more interesting next chapter though.

Thanks to those who are wishing me luck in London. You're all so sweet!! :D And I think I've officially fallen in love with this city. :D

Reviews are loved loved! I'm sorry that I've been bad on replying, but know that I appreciate all of yoU!!!