Hey guys! It's another Germany/Fem!Canada fic for ya! It's a little less fluffy and sugary, not by much but still. Also there are more historical facts included within this one. YAY HISTORY NERDS UNITE! Hope y'all like it and Please review! And a special thanks to Xou for correcting my French!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, if I did Canada would be badass, we'd see Scotland constantly, Egypt would be more vocal, and America would get gagged by the other nations during meetings.

He couldn't stand to see her like that. Her face half hidden behind her long strawberry blond hair, the way she would duck her head down and slip past people invisibly, how she could ghost past everyone whether she was actually moving silently or not. Her lavender eyes seemed to have lost the fire that once burned brightly with pride. Being mistaken for decades as your twin brother would do that to you, he supposed. Why the other nations forgot about her he just couldn't understand. She was possibly the one nation who healed rather than hurt, every country had been touch by her and her warmth. Her reputation of old touched his memory; back when he listened to a mad man and she had been on the frontlines to shut him down...

They were in Italy, had been ordered to fight for every last house and tree. Yet, these orders notwithstanding, they were losing. He swore as another building collapsed Ortona, he was losing time to get his men out of here, forget the orders of that man. He was Germany and would at least get those under his direct command out from here.

He waited as the men left the town; he needed to see the nation that drove his men out of here in eight days. Eight days the fighting had lasted, with no reinforcements it was obvious that they would retreat. He needed to see the one nation who made him do that. He thought he could remember her from the Great War; she wore the uniform of Britain then, and stood by the side of France on that 11th day... He remembered his men talking about her people, how the men wearing the maple leaf were the ones they didn't want to see on the battlefield. They would kill you faster than the British or the Americans and just keep fighting; even when they were losing they would keep fighting to protect comrades who could escape the slaughter, the 'Black Plague" and 'Ladies from Hades*' indeed.

He saw her come around a corner, her gun raised, wearing the blue uniform that had her marked as part of the RCAF rather than being on land detail like him. Hell, she'd probably trained her brother to be the ace he was. She walked slowly towards him, the gun lowered slightly as she moved seeing him unarmed, or at least unready.

"Germany, it's time to retreat, the battle is over." Her voice was clear and crisp, the clipped tones reminiscent of Britain but without the full thickness of his accent.

"Ja, I know. I just had to see the Country who drove my men from here." He locked eyes with the younger nation, her soft lavender eyes showing the held back pain and sorrow. "I will remember you."

With that he turned and followed his troops in the retreat, he could feel the flow of war turning.

He had kept that promise, though he doubted she thought so. It astonished him that she could be so accepting of the other nations forgetting her. She was the one who was turned to constantly by their bosses when aid was needed, either in form of disaster relief or in her peace keeping missions. Her people were in every country helping out in every form. They all owed so much to her and yet they forgot her. Yet something kept him from speaking to her, kept him from dispelling her belief that he forgot about her too.

That something had to be her purity, her innocence. He'd taint her; it was like getting to know Italy all over again, only something about her seemed so much more fragile. He was coarse, rough; he didn't know how to handle social situations and she was so precious. He knew he loved her; he had probably started falling back when she wore the uniform of England and he knew he was fallen when he saw her in her blues...

"Alright let's break here for today. Remember we meet here again tomorrow at 7am. And, God help us, America you'll be the opening speaker." England's voice had broken through his thoughts; he blinked, bringing in the noise from the other nations who chattered with each other as they gathered up things from the meeting and headed for the door. Germany stayed sitting his eyes still on the quiet girl across from him, who likewise stayed in her seat; though in her case it was probably so she didn't have to think about how invisible she can be. For a moment she glanced quickly about the room, before standing herself and making her way to the board which was set up with the next day's agenda. America would probably fill it with his plans before the meeting the next day, but Germany couldn't fathom why Canada would be looking at it now.

"Before that hoser fills it up with his crazy plans for another giant robot," Canada murmured before grabbing the dry erase marker and started to write. Germany watched a little stunned as from the Canadian's fingertips writing flowed onto the board. Soon enough with his curiosity egging him on, he got up and walked silently over to stand behind Canada and began to read.

It was a proposal on humanitarian efforts for the famine crisis in Somalia; specifically a calling out on the Somalian leaders who were blocking aid efforts and what steps could be taken to help those in need. The proposal itself was well thought out and split between what political pressure the North American leaders were planning on putting on Somalia as well as suggestions for further aid.

"You know those are some good ideas." He said as she put the cap back on the dry erase. The Northern country squeaked dropping the pen as she spun around to see Germany standing right behind her.

"Mon dieu! Germany! You scared me, what are you still doing here?" Canada's soft voice almost stuttered over the words. She had been certain that all of the other nations had left.

"Ah," he paused, no idea of how to answer, why had he stayed behind today? Why he had actually approached her today wasn't anything he was certain of. Only the barely registered urge that today he would finally say anything to remind her of existing. "I knew the rational plans made by America couldn't have been his, no one talks about giant robots and aliens all the time only to turn around and propose to keep the peace like he did during that Suez debacle."

At this, Canada gave a small smile, and her face and voice glowed. "Actually, that one was his idea," she corrected the more intimidating nation. Germany's face fell into an expression of complete disbelief as she giggled quietly. "Oh come on, he's not that bad, eh? His imagination just runs away with him while he's trying to impress England."

"I'll have to take your word for it," was his only response; shaking his head, "Still why you allow him to take credit for your ideas?" Ice blue eyes met lavender, he watched as the question registered with her, bringing sadness to the soft eyes.

"Well no one remembers me, eh? It's better for the ideas to be out and discussed than for me to take credit. It's rare enough for me to be remembered when checking for absentees, let alone during round table discussions." A crystal tear fell from her eye as Germany watched astonished. The shorter nation reached up to touch the tear tract left on her face before turning red and spinning around trying to hide. "What a time to be visible." He heard her mutter towards the whiteboard.

"Canada," he paused, what could he possibly say? What could it mean really to her if he told her that he always saw her in the meetings, taking notes or feeding that polar bear she almost always had with her. "Canada, please don't hide." He reached out and touched her shoulder slowly turning the female nation back to face him. The soft eyed nation looked away, slow tears falling down her cheeks.

"I can't believe this," she muttered, "I'm ok Germany really, it's just..." she trailed off slightly in shock as the Aryan pulled her into a gentle hug. Burying her face into his chest, she let the tears fall, it seemed so out of character for him to do this, but her interaction with him weren't the greatest after the war, they had gone back to being peaceable but it wasn't the almost close relationship he had had with her when she was under Britain's rule and during the war it was impossible to see the soft side of any of the European nations.

"Bitte Kanada, weine nicht." The German whispered softly stroking her hair as the girl slowly stopped crying. Continuing to rock her back and forth he whispered again, "Es tut mir leid, es tut mir leid, dass ich Ihnen glaube ich, vergessen Sie. Ich sehe dich immer und ich bin immer an dich zu denken. Ich liebe dich zu sehr, um zu sehen Sie alleine weinen mehr." Germany heard the Canadian's gasp, and a blush rose and heated his face. He had forgotten how many languages the woman spoke. The downside, or upside to her multiculturalism policy.

"Ludwig, I, I'm not sure what to say," she said as she pulled away slowly her eyes meeting his and searching for something. Something to tell her that this was not a prank pulled by his brother and his brother's friends; though big brother France would not have put up with her being the victim for such a heartless prank.

"You, you don't have to say anything Canada," the taller nation looked away, his face burnt scarlet at what he had revealed.

"But, Germany, did you mean it?" she persisted, want, needing to know the truth.

"Of course I do!" he bit out still not looking at her.

"Then why? Why haven't you said anything before?" The question was barely a whisper, soft and hesitant as if she was afraid to know the answer she needed.

Now he looked back and into her eyes, the clear, pale, beautiful eyes he had grown to love watching. It was almost enough to break him, "You're so pure, and I'll taint you. I'll hurt you, and I'd rather die than do that." He whispered before turning away himself, cursing the seldom listened to impulse that brought him to this. Sure he had finally gotten to hold Canada in his arms but she would probably never let him do it again, knowing now of his feelings. She wasn't cruel but there was no way that she could return his feelings. It was probably best to leave now before he could hear the response.

"Pays-Bas avait raison, je n'y crois pas!" He could hear her mutter behind him. Hearing his cousin's name; he may not understand French but he knew his families name in the main languages of Europe, was more than enough of a reason to leave. He figured there was something between them, had known the relationship was exceptional close since the end of the war, it goes to follow that Netherlands would have charmed her, being far less socially awkward and just more charming in general. He started walking away. Unable to hear the rejection he knew was coming.

"Allemagne!" he heard the call and faltered for a second uncertain of if he should listen. "l'Allemagne, d'arête!" he continued to walk hearing footsteps behind him. A small hand was placed on the crook of his arm effectively stopping him from running anymore without being exceptionally rude.

"Germany, please look at me." Her voice was soft but wavered slightly, carrying the sound of tears below the surface. He turned around guilt gnawing at him.

"Ja, was?" he kept his response short trying to not look at her.

"In my eyes Germany." Her voice was still soft but firm again still with the sound of tears but no longer vulnerable. It was the same voice from his memories admonishing him, telling him it was enough, that he was done.

His ice blue eyes finally met the lavender again, the confused feelings mixed in her eyes. He could read the confusion, the worry, and there was slight hope and something else, his heart skipped seeing the unknown emotion hoping, praying, but doubting that it was the one he wanted.

A moment passed with her scrutinizing him, searching his eyes for something, as a blush grew steadier on his cheeks. Unable to keep her gaze his eyes lowered but stopped at her light pink lips, lipstick chewed off, her teeth still biting the bottom. He could hear in his mind the same whisper voice that told him to speak to her urging him to just lean in a kiss her. Show her his feelings. So in a move very uncharacteristic of himself he did just that, leaning in, and capturing her pale lips in a soft and gentle kiss. He heard her squeak of surprise, and felt the miracle of her hands reaching up and around his neck, holding him in place when he would have run away; felt her mouth begin to respond to his kiss, with a tenderness and a passion he hardly expected from her. Though all things considered; it shouldn't have been too unexpected child of France that she was.

Breaking away for air Germany stared into her eyes, the smile and joy shining making it obvious even to him, who was nearly as dense as her brother for reading people, that she was overjoyed by his actions. "Kanada was," he paused hesitantly before continuing his question, only in English, "What about Netherlands? What you just said,"

"Netherlands is my best friend; we've been very close for just over 70 years." She interrupted him swiftly, "he's been trying to convince me for just over half of those years that my feelings for you weren't insane and were in fact returned." She gave him a shy smile, practically dazzling him. "Your cousin seems to know you pretty well eh?"

Chuckling slightly Germany shook his head a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He resolved silently to find a way to thank his cousin for giving him this angel without a fight. Instead of answering her he leaned back in for another kiss, tasting the splash of maple, sweet on his tongue.

Outside the door, a spiky haired blonde walked away closing the door quietly to not disturb the couple inside. Netherlands smiled as he pulled out his cigarette, he could get his papers that he left behind tomorrow.

"Goed gedaan neef. Heel goed gedaan"

* Multiple Canadian regiments in World War I and World War II gained the nickname Ladies from Hades or Ladies from Hell, from the German forces due to their practice of wearing kilts, the ones that did (that I know of) were: The Stormont, Dundas and Glengarry Highlanders, The Nova Scotia Highlanders, The Black Watch (Royal Highland Regiment) of Canada. The Black Plague was a name given to The Queen's York Rangers from their black headdress and their reputation for not breaking contact with the enemy. (Plaguing the enemy)

The Battle of Ortona did only last 8 days! December 20-28, 1943. The Canadian forces relieved the exhausted British soldiers and took on the German 1st Parachute Division which was an elite force ordered by Hitler himself to defend every last house and tree. Several regiments were used in the battle by the Canadians and it is a point of pride for the Canadian military in reference to the second World War, along with the liberation of the Netherlands. It was particularly bloody of a battle as most of the fighting was in close quarters, roughly a quarter of all Canadian casualties in the Italian campaign was during this battle.

Translations! (Sorry if they suck, most are from google since I only have English and mostly lost French within my command)

German:

Bitte Kanada, weine nicht. - Please Canada, don't cry.

Es tut mir leid, es tut mir leid, dass ich Ihnen glaube ich, vergessen Sie. Ich sehe dich immer und ich bin immer an dich zu denken. Ich liebe dich zu sehr, um zu sehen Sie alleine weinen mehr. - I'm sorry, I'm sorry that I let you think I forgot you. I always see you and I'm always thinking about you. I love you too much to watch you cry alone anymore.

Ja, was? - Yes, what?

Kanada was, - Canada what,

French:

Pays-Bas avait raison, je n'y crois pas. - Netherlands was right, I can't believe it.

l'Allemagne - Germany

l'Allemagne, d'arête! - Germany stop!

Dutch:

Goed gedaan neef. Heel goed gedaan - Well done cousin. Well done indeed.

Well there you go! Please review!

May the sun always shine Golden

~Goldpen