"Arthuuur! Why are you making me do this!" Alfred complained, his head poking out of the room.

Arthur sighed. "Because Francis specifically told me to let you wear that whenever he comes over! You can take it of after the visit." Arthur had absolutely no idea what the bloody frog had given to the child, so he simply thought 'How bad can it be? It's not like he's putting the child in a dress.." Oh how he thought wrong.

Alfred bashfully shuffled so his whole frame would be shown. What the hell. What the bloody hell. The boy was wearing this sort of replica of the dress he first had when he was a child. Only, bigger and longer. Arthur felt his eye twitch and at the same time, he felt himself blush. Damn that frog! Francis was gonna get it this time.. Surely he was. Making a fool out of his colony. That was when he remembered what that other lad was wearing... Matthew was it? Yeah, Matthew. He was wearing something similar with a red bow on his collar. It looked sort of like a uniform if you observed it a bit more... Wait. A uniform? England's eyes widened as the feelings of fear registered. He growled and immediately approached the boy.

"Alfred, go change into your normal clothes." he demanded.

"Huh? But I thought big brother Francis said-"

"Forget what Francis said! Just do as I say.." and with that said, Alfred gratefully retreated back to his room.

'You're still after Alfred, eh Francis?' Arthur scowled possessively. Paranoia sunk in along with the terrifying realization. Francis was not going to give up on the lad. Nope. He would keep trying and trying until he got his way and took the lad. That was not about to happen. Not in this era or in the frog's lifetime.

His thoughts were disrupted by a knock on the door. Arthur shook his head and briskly approached the door. "Yes, who is it-"

He wasn't given the chance to finish his sentence for Quinn came running in, a panicked expression on his face. A panicked expression. On Ireland, Quinn McKinley Kirkland's face. The face that never once showed fear. This could not be good.

"Arthur!-" Quinn breathed out. " H-He's 'ere t-tah... Tah take th'.. Th' lad..."

England's eyes widened. If this did not confirm his suspicions, nothing would. "Where is he now?"

" 'Es on 'is way 'ere with his own lad!" Quinn growled out. "Ye need 'elp protectin' Alfred? A'll gladly-"

"No, Quinn." Arthur scolded. "This is between Francis and me.."

"Ye sure? A'm 'ere tah help in 'ny way-"

"Go keep the lad busy. Distracted. It's... It's about time I.."

Quinn smirked slightly. "Yer declarin' war on th' bastard?"

Arthur nodded solemnly. "Make sure Alfred stays oblivious to all this. All of it. I don't want him worrying or stressing. He's much too young to comprehend the meaning of war."

At that precise moment, Alfred skipped out of his room in his normal clothes. He stopped half way only to go into a full sprint towards Ireland. "Quinn!~" he sang as he ran into the Irish man's arm.

Ireland picked up the boy and put his arms around him in a protective manner. He stole a glance at Arthur who was, to his surprise, fuming with jealousy. Quinn rolled his eyes and handed the boy over to Arthur. "Alfred, go say g'bye tah caterpillar-fer-eyebrows. We're gonna go play fer a while.."

Arthur flushed ten shades darker and his fingers twitched. No matter how much he admired his older brother, the twat was just so bloody annoying!

Alfred blinked. "But what about big brother Francis and my awesome twin brother, Matthew?"

"We'll be meetin' them later. Now go tah Arthur 'n give 'im a see-yah-later kiss!" Quinn chuckled. He set Alfred down so he could walk over to England. The boy grabbed Arthur's sleeve and lightly tugged it down. Arthur smiled and leaned down so Alfred could kiss his cheek. The boy giggled before shyly kissing Arthur on the cheek and running back to Ireland.

Arthur gave a firm nod at Quinn, who nodded back and retreated to the garden with the boy.

"Bonjour!~ I have arrived!" Francis burst through the doors of England's office. A grand entrance, as usual.

England glared at the Frenchman at the door. Obviously, the frog did not dare bring Matthew inside the office for even if the git was vain, he wasn't stupid.

"Francis." Arthur said bitterly. "Please. Have a seat. I need to discuss something with you.."

"What is it my dearest Angleterre?" Francis chirpped.

"Don't bloody act like you don't know what you're doing. I know what you're up to. It isn't going to work."

Francis's smile disappeared with that said and he quickly sat down on the seat across from England.

"Ah, I see. You've figured out my plan, oui?" Francis smirked.

"Yes. And I don't plan on letting you get away with it either, Francis." Arthur hissed.

"Mon cher, I don't expect you to just let me get your cute, little Amérique!"

"And that I wont, Francis. That I wont." Arthur growled out.

Francis backed off. He knew that when England growled like that, he meant business.

"Francis..." Arthur sighed, regaining his composure. "I'm not giving up America. Not ever. At least, not without a fight."

"So it has come to this, oui?"

"Yes, Francis. And if you lose.." England remembered how much America loved Matthew. Loved Canada. "You give up your colony."

Francis paled. He shot England a pleading look before clenching his jaw shut and looking at his feet. The Frenchman had a choice to make. This was all or nothing. A gamble. Francis abruptly stood up and slammed his hand on the desk. England kept his cool and stared up at Francis.

"...Fine. But I assure you, I will win, against mon petit frère" (my little brother) Francis hissed.

"Whatever you say, grand frère." (big brother) Arthur hissed back.

And with that, Francis stomped out of the room.

"E-Eh? P-Papa, where are we going..? I-I'm not done playing with Alfred.."

"Hey! Leggo of Matthew! We're still playing!" Alfred complained as he watched Francis carry Canada out the front door.

"Nous devons aller, Matthew." (We must go, Matthew.) Francis whispered.

"P-Pourquoi?" (Why?) Matthew asked weakly.

"Nous sommes maintenant en guerre, mon cher Matthieu." (We are now at war, my dear Matthew) he gave a sad smile to the boy in his arms.

Matthew's eyes widened. "La guerre?" (War?) he wondered out loud.

Francis went aboard his boat and kissed Matthew's forehead. "Laissez-nous pas en cause cette pensée. Laissez-nous vivre ici et maintenant, mon cher Matthieu." (Let us not question the thought. Let us live here and now, my dear Matthew)

And with that said, Francis returned home to prepare for war.

Desole! For the short Chapter! Thank you all for supporting me and my first fic!~

Okay, some of you are thinking that "What the hell? Is that really how the war started? With a dress?"

The answer is "PFFT- No." I just needed a filler. The next chapters will explain the rest XD!

Thank you all for staying with me until now! Oh, and about the French, NO I am not French, I just used Google Translate, cuz I win 8D.

Hm.. What else.. Oh, yeah. Rating may go up to T. But that depends on you guys. Please review and tell me what I should do. Thanks!

~Ina

P.S.: No, I do NOT own Hetalia. /sobs