A/N: This is a reupload of Part 11. It was brought to my attention that a sentence was lost somehow in the transfer from my computer to this site (I have no clue how, actually...very weird) and since it was rather important statement, I decided to reupload it with the missing sentence replaced.

Rivalry

Part 11

France was pretty sure things could not have worked out better if he had planned things this way.

"Amérique! Mathieu!" He answered the door with his usual flourish, beaming brightly at the two younger nations standing on his front porch.

Really, they were making things so much easier for him than he'd expected. He'd been planning on calling America, asking him to meet him at some restaurant or something (not McDonald's; anywhere but McDonald's). Instead, he'd come right to him without him having to do a thing! Although having Canada come as well was a bit of a surprise. He stepped aside, holding the door open while flashing them a bright grin. "What a pleasant surprise! Come in!"

"Ah, sorry for not calling ahead," Canada hurriedly apologized, stepping inside and wiping his feet carefully on the welcome mat. Which America completely ignored. And just barged in, tracking mud onto the floor in a way that would have sent England on a three-hour rant and Germany off to find his cleaning supplies (which knowing him would be sitting about two feet away).

France didn't seem to care at all. He just continued to grin and followed America toward the living room. "Ah, mon cher, what brings you here? It's been so long since either of you came to visit."

"We wanted to talk with you about England."

France beamed even more brightly. Really, things definitely could not have worked out better. "Ah, pourquoi? Is something wrong with mon petit Angleterre?"

America flushed slightly as he walked into the living room and eyed France's couch warily. He wasn't sure exactly how intelligent it would be to actually sit on it. Who knew what could have happened on that couch?

Canada seemed to have a similar thought, as he stepped inside and just stood against the wall, hugging Kumajiro to his chest as he watched France saunter inside and fall into his armchair.

France rested his chin on his hands, grinning up at the two younger nations. He couldn't help but notice how irritated America looked. Really…they hadn't even done anything yet and already the poor boy looked as if he wanted to tear someone's head off. Particularly is that someone happened to be an albino ex-nation whose named started with a 'G'.

France vaguely hoped that Prussia had thought through where to hide out after this, as he was pretty sure that both America and England would be thirsting for his blood when they found out exactly who had been involved.

He'd already booked tickets to Barcelona. Spain's territory was quite lovely this time of year.

"Is something wrong, Amérique?" he questioned as innocently as possible.

"N—no… I was just…I mean, I heard…" He stopped and took a deep breath, then burst out all at once, "Prussia-told-me-that-he-and-Iggy-are-dating!!" And then stopped, his cheeks turning slightly pink in embarrassment.

"Ah?" France quirked an eyebrow at him, as if confused. "You were not aware of the fact?"

Both America and Canada looked as shocked as if France had just told them that he was, in fact, still a virgin. Then America exclaimed, "It's true!?"

"But Gilbert would have told me…" Canada started to argue, before he realized what he'd started to say and hurriedly quieted, crushing Kumajiro tighter against his chest.

…Well that was interesting…

"Ah, oui, Angleterre and Prusse have been together for centuries. Not that Angleterre would ever admit the fact. You know how he is." He waved his hand in a dismissive fashion. "But oui, it is true."

Now America looked even more homicidal, glaring at France in irritation. "But, Iggy— Why the fuck wouldn't he tell me?"

France forced a surprised expression. "But why would he tell you? I mean, it's not as if he would have any real need to do so."

"But—"

"It has always kind of worried me, though," he continued, completely ignoring America's attempts at interjecting. "Petit Angleterre. I sometimes wonder if he and Prusse are really meant for each other. They've gotten into the most awful fights sometimes." He motioned toward his eye as he continued—he'd come up with this part last night and was rather proud of it—"I remember once when Angleterre and Prusse got into a fight. Angleterre had a black eye for almost a straight month after that."

Both America and Canada looked horrified at that, although America's expression hurriedly twisted into rage while Canada just stared at him in shock and disbelief.

"But Gilbert wouldn't…"

"I'm going to fucking kill that bastard!" America leapt up from his seat. "You don't hurt the damsel in distress, bastard!"

Damsel in distress? He'd have to save that note for later. He was now having trouble deciding which of the two nations to focus on. America was acting just as expected; this would be almost too easy. However, he was definitely intrigued by Canada's reactions.

He made a mental note to keep an eye on this surprising little twist.

"Ah, mon ami. Prusse didn't mean to hurt Angleterre. He just can be a bit wild sometimes, non?"

America wasn't listening. He was now pacing back and force in front of the couch, mumbling angrily to himself.

Hm, maybe that had been a little too much?

He supposed he could book another seat on the flight to Barcelona if he had to.

"If this were one of your movies, Amérique, then it would be quite obvious what you should do, non?"

America paused mid-rant and glanced up toward the other nation. "Huh?"

"Well, if Angleterre is the 'damsel-in-distress'…" He was definitely not letting England live that nickname down. "Then the hero should go and rescue him, right?"

And now America had stopped and was just standing there, his expression suddenly pensive.

Much. Much too easy.

"Ye—yes… Yes he would…" And suddenly his furious expression broke and he grinned widely. "Yes! And I'm the hero, so that means I should go save Iggy!"

He was almost a little disappointed. He hadn't even had to come out with his photographs that neither England nor Prussia knew existed. Those two were so much fun when they were drunk together…

"Bu—but, Francis…" Canada stuttered…

Before he could finish, however, America had jumped up and grabbed his brother's hand. "Come on, Mattie! You can be my sidekick on Operation 'Rescue Iggy from the freaky albino creep!'"

"Bu—but Alf—"

He didn't get a chance to finish that, as America immediately tugged him to the door. France just stood there for a while, grinning to himself as he pulled his cell phone out and punched in a quick message.

Bring Idiot #2 to the restaurant. Idiot #1 is on his way.

A/N: So France was being a total bastard in this chapter. I feel bad for Canada.

Speaking of Canada… so in my head!canon, France and Prussia can see Canada pretty much all of the time. America and England can see him too, but it takes them a bit longer (and England has a tendency to think he's America for a few seconds before he realizes that he isn't) and then pretty much everybody else either can't see him or mistakes him for America.

But if Canada is actually being assertive, then everybody can see him. Or if somebody draws their attention to him.