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"Are we ever going to get there?" Arthur questioned, tripping over yet another branch. Francis was leading him through the woods for about ten minutes to some unknown location for their date. He was getting tired of trudging on the dirty forest ground.

"And we're here. This is my favorite spot," Francis said, motioning to a small area in front of him. They stopped in front of a small confined area in the woods opposite of the park in front of a lake. They could still enjoy the calming view of families playing tag or people walking their dogs without having the danger of somebody stepping on their picnic. Francis put the blanket he had been carrying on the dirt and sat down. He looked up at his date. "Aren't you going to sit down?"

"Here?" Arthur asked, looking around at his surroundings, quite taken aback. "I thought we were going to the park."

"Well we were, but after yesterday's little event I figured you'd be more comfortable in your natural habitat."

"What?! I already told you I don't live in the woods," the Englishman groaned. "I just didn't want you knowing where I live."

"Yeah, okay," the Frenchman scoffed, paying his attention the body of water in front of him. "No one is that paranoid to walk miles of forest home rather than have someone drive them, no matter what the reason." Arthur looked at his date incredulously before taking a deep breath.

"Look, I'm trying to be nice here," the Briton began calmly, crouching down on the sheet and putting the basket he was holding on the floor. "But you're making that really hard for me. Everything you're saying is incredibly irritating."

"You're trying to be nice?" Francis raised an eyebrow as he turned to look at the Brit. "Not that I don't want that, but why? When I first met you, you called my a rapist. At the restaurant, you pushed me off my chair, threw my food on the ground, and then forced me to drove you home. I hesitated when I picked this spot for our date because I actually thought you might just throw me into the lake."

"Really?" The Englishman thought about it for a second. "Well, I probably wouldn't just throw you in the lake. You probably would've done something to deserve it." The blond turned to look at his date unbelievingly.

"Are you serious? You couldn't just say you wouldn't throw me in the lake?"

"Well, that would be lying and I'm pretty sure that wouldn't be nice."

"Neither is throwing me in a lake!"

"Hey! I'm taking this 'being nice thing' one step at a time."

"Right, of course you are. And you know, you still haven't answered my question," the Frenchman reminded the dirty blond. "Why are you trying to be nice?"

"I just wanted to try something new, okay?" Arthur explained. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Something new?" the blond repeated, slightly puzzled. "What? You've never been nice to any of your dates before?"

"No. I've never been nice to annoying and asinine Frenchman before!"

"Well, let me be the first to tell you," Francis began as he mock-clapped. "You just did an excellent job of being kind right there."

"Shut up! It's still a work in progress!"

"You're telling me," the blond muttered under his breath, looking at the lake again.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," the Frenchman sighed.

You have to be nicer to him, he thought. Ivan will kill you if this guy doesn't like you.

He turned back to look at his date who was shooting daggers at him.

Well, maybe a little death wouldn't be too bad. I think I could live with that... he convinced himself.

"Hello?! Do you hear me?!" Arthur cried, interrupting the older man's thoughts. "I asked you a question! What did you say?"

"I said, why don't we have lunch now?!" Francis smiled innocently.

"What? No! You didn't say that!"

"Then what did I say, mon cher?"

"Hell if I know! All I know is that you didn't say that!"

"Fine then. Why don't we just agree to disagree, okay?" the Frenchman reasoned, trying to calm his date down."In any case, I really do want to have lunch now." The Briton glared at the man for a second before reluctantly reaching for the picnic basket.

"Fine." He pulled out two plates, two different colored containers, a couple of water bottles, and a few utensils. He opened both of the tupperwares and put fish and chips on both plates. He passed one over to Francis with a fork and knive. "Here you go."

"Thanks." The Frenchman picked the utensils of his plate and set the food on his lap. "So," he

began, taking the first bite of his meal. "What do yo- whoa." He looked back down at his dish.

"What?" Arthur asked, a little nervous although he was expecting this. "What is it?"

"This... food."

"Well, what about it?"

"It's delicious."

"Well you don't have to bloody eat it if you can't appreciate fine cui- wait, what?" the Englishman questioned, realizing his prediction of what the man was going to say was wrong. "It's what?"

"Delicious," the blond repeated, looking up. "It's absolutely wonderful."

"Really?"

"Really. And to tell you the truth, when I agreed to let you bring lunch yesterday I was kind of nervous."

"Why?"

"Well, from what I've heard, the best chefs in the world aren't exactly British."

"Ha! I guess I proved you wrong then!" the Brit smirked.

"Yeah, whatever," Francis said as he continued to eat his dish. "So, as I was saying before, I wanna know. What do you do for a living?" The Englishman took a bite of his food before he answered.

"Oh, I'm a- wait," he said, realising something. "Oh, you think you're so sly, don't you?"

"Excuse me?"

"And I almost fell for it too," the Brit chuckled, shaking his head.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play coy with me. I've already figured it out."

"Figured what out?"

"I figured out that that you were going to calmly ask what I do for a living, and because I think we're on a nice, casual date, I tell you. Then when you get home you cross reference the name Arthur with name of my occupation until you find exactly where I work. That way, you can follow me everyday at my workplace and stalk me for the rest of my life! That's how they get you!"

"That's how they get y- where do you come up with these things?"

"What are you talking about? They're pretty obvious."

"You know what fine, let's just skip that question for now."

"For now? More like forever."

"Fore- it's not worth it," Francis decided, think of another question. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

Any brothers or sisters? Oh come on, that was just too easy to figure out. First, you-"

"Are you serious? Is there any question I can ask you that won't make me seem like a stalker?!"

"Hmmm..." Arthur pondered the question for a few seconds. "You can ask me- wait, no. That won't work." The Englishman racked his brain for an example but couldn't seem to find one.

"Really?" the Frenchman asked, looking at his date incredulously. "There's not one question?"

"Give me secon- wait, I've got one. Color. You can ask me what my favorite color is."

"Okay then, what's your favorite color?"

"Blue."

"Blue.. why's that?"

"Nope," the Brit said simply shaking his head.

"Nope?" the blond repeated, confused. "Nope what?"

"You can't ask me why blue's my favorite color. Makes you seem like a pervert."

"What?! How?"

"How? How does it not is the more proper question. First, you casually ask why blue is my favorite co-"

"You know what? Forget it. I don't want to know." Francis took a bite of one of his chips, thinking about what to say next. "Since I can't seem to ask you any innocent questions, why don't you ask me one?"

"Oh, okay." The Englishman paused for a second. "What do you do for a living?"

"What?! You can't ask me that!"

"Why not?"

"Because I tried to ask you that same question and you wouldn't let me."

"Yes, but I'm not a pervert or a stalker."

"And I'm one of those?"

"How do I know you're not?"

"Well then, how do I know you're not?"

"Because I just told you I'm not."

"I told you I'm not a pervert or a stalker."

"That's different though."

"How?"

"I don't believe you."

"You do- Well then, why should I believe you?"

"Easy. I'm not a liar."

"And I'm a liar?"

"I don't know your life," Arthur shrugged.

"You don't know my li-" Francis paused as he rubbed his temples. "You know what? Forget it. If you want to know, I'm a model."

"Model? Well, that explains your attractive face and perfect body," the Englishman thought aloud. The Frenchman nodded in agreement before realising what the Brit had just admitted.

"You think I have a perfect body?" the Frenchman asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What?" Arthur sat there, wide-eyed. "No, I ju-"

"I mean, I know I have one but it's always nice when other people realize it also," the blond smirked. "And by the way, you're not too bad yourself," he winked.

"Excuse me?!"

"What? I just said you had a nice body. You should feel complimented, mon cher."

"The only thing I feel, is disgusted! You really are a pervert!"

"Pervert? I thought you were trying to be nice to me. I don't think that involves calling me a pervert."

"I AM TRYING TO B-" Arthur began, before realising how loud he was yelling. He cleared his throat. "I am trying to be nice you but you're such a wanker that it's impossible!"

"Nothing's impossible if you try hard enough," the blond smirked.

"Really? Then why don't you go jump off of bloody cliff and see if you can survive that? Come to me after that and tell me nothing's impossible if you try hard enough!" The Frenchman tried to think of a witty comeback but couldn't come up with anything.

"Touché."

"Mmmhhm," Arthur grinned, clearly satisfied with himself. "Told you."

"Whatever," Francis dismissed, taking another bite of his food. "You know, I still haven't told you why this place in my favorite spot yet."

"Oh yeah? Well then, why is this your favorite spot?"

"I love the way the lake shines in the sunlight. In my opinion, the beauty of this lake is something that everyone should experience at least once in their life."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's beautiful. Here, move over let me show you." Francis took the meal out of his date's hand and put both of their dishes to the side. He motioned for the Englishman to sit closer to the edge of the blanket closest to the lake so he could get the best view possible. Arthur sat beside him and they both looked peacefully at the lake.

"Wow, you're right," the Brit admitted, smiling at the view. "It really is beautiful."

"Yeah," the Frenchman said, casually leaning over and putting his arm around Arthur's shoulder. "I love it."

"Hey!" the dirty blond cried, taken aback as he pushed Francis's arm off his shoulder. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Enjoying the moment."

"Yeah, enjoy. Well, enjoy the moment to your own bloody damn self! Don't touch me."

"Okay fine, if that's what you wish, but I really think you'll regret it."

"I regret nothing," the Brit claimed, scooting away from his date. They sat in silence for a few minutes, just staring at the lake, when the Englishman heard a rustling noise come from a nearby bush.

"Aahhh!" Arthur yelled, jumping away from the noise and landing in Francis's lap.

"Ah mon cher, I told you you'd regret," the Frenchman smirked.

"Shut up! Didn't you hear that? I think it was a bear or something. I knew we shouldn't have come here! Look, there it is again!" the Englishman cried, pointing in the direction of the noise. The bush was moving slightly as if something were trying to get out. A second later, a little white rabbit emerged from the shrub and hopped away.

"Oh yes, that was the most frightening bear I have ever seen in my life," Francis said sarcastically. "We barely made it out of our lives."

"Shut up," Arthur grumbled, getting off his date.

"No, no, no you were right. And the worst thing is, that was the worst kind of bear too. First, it's the kind that looks like a bunny rabbit, so you won't be scared and trust it. Then, when you least suspect it, it transforms back into a bear and attacks you. That's how they you, non?"

"I said shut up!"

"You're so jumpy. It's kind of cute too, like that rabbit we just saw. You know what? I think I'll call you lapin from now on." Francis paused for a second. "Mon lapin."

Antonio had barely walked a block from the coffee shop when his phone rang. He checked the screen of his cell and saw that the call was from an unknown number.

That's so weird, he thought. Unless...

Thinking about who it could be, he wasted no more time and answered the call.

"Hello?" he said. "Is this Lovi?"

"Lovino. My name's Lovino," the man on the other end of call asserted. "Don't fucking change my name!"

"Lovi, it is you! I didn't expect to call me so soon."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, it's just th-"

"Did you take me for the kind of bastard that leaves people hanging? Leaving you waiting anxiously for the phone to ring, like some sort of douche would do? Is that take me for?!"

"No! No, I'm sorry." The Spaniard hesitated for a moment, trying to find the find the right words to say. "It's just, when I left the coffee shop, I don't know, I had a feeling you didn't like me."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but since you called me, now I know I was just being paranoid. You do like me."

"Whoa, hold your horses there. Who the fuck said I liked you?"

"What? But you called me, so I just assumed tha-"

"Well, that's where you went wrong. Don't assume anything!"

"Okay then, I'm sorry. If you don't like me, then why'd you call me?"

"What? Is it illegal to call people now?! Well, excuse me, I didn't get the memo."

"No, Lovi, don't take it the wrong way. I will always be happy to hear to your voice. But it's just... what's the reason if you don't like me?"

"I wanted to go out later. Like, you know, on a date."

"A date? Oh Lovi, you do like me!"

"Stop jumping to fucking conclusions! I asked you to go on a date with me, not get married. At this moment in time, I do not like you. I feel like I have the potential to like you, so I am asking you out."

"That's still pretty awesome! So what do you want to do on this date?"

"I don't fucking know. You're the one who gave your number to me. I figured you had an idea of something to do on a date already."

"I do. I have plenty of them, really, but I wanted to see if you had any particular interests."

"Whatever you pick I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Okay. When are you free?"

"Today, after I'm done with work will be fine."

"Really? So soon? I'm so happy."

"Yeah, I bet you are."

"Ooh, why don't we meet up at the coffee shop? I'll pick you up there."

"Okay."

"I'm so glad we're doing this."

"Yeah, you should be glad I'm going on a date with you! I could be doing better things, but I decided to give you a chance. Bye now, I've got to go. Work stuff."

"Okay, I understand, see you later." Antonio waited for a response but didn't seem to get one. "Hello? Lovi?" He looked at his phone and saw that the Italian had already hung up on him. The brunette saw his happy reflection in cell's screen and seemed to smile even brighter.

Yay! Lovi asked me out! I can't wait till tonight.


What? Francis likes Arthur's cooking? Lovino asked Antonio on a date? All will be explained in the next chapter, my pretties! Please Review! Ta ta for now!