Sorry this is late, but my sister is planning something that I got sucked into. Near the end of the month, she, me, and 7 other people are going to a con dressed as 8 sailor scouts (Our Venus bailed) and Tuxedo mask. We had to work on costumes (they're handmade) all day, so I had to try to finish this for you guys. If you want more details on our fantastic con escapades (Aka, where you might see us), PM me, AKA Sailor Pluto! Without further delay (I still don't own Hetalia BTW), I present the FrancexCanada Omake!

***

Turning the World Upside Down

Omake 1: Brownie Batter

Anyone who saw Canada walking down the hall would say that he looked totally normal. That is, people would say that if anyone had noticed him walking down the corridor if they actually saw him. Canada was practically invisible to almost everyone but America. The two had grown up on the streets together and were extremely close- Canada was like America's younger brother and they tried to look out for each other as much as possible. So Alfred was the only one paying attention to him right now, and he noticed the small things that were wrong with Canada's expression. Matthew looked happy, but under scrutiny, he appeared as if he was going to cry.

Matthew's normal smile was trembling slightly at the corners and his eyes were misty with tears. His glasses were fogged slightly from crying. There were even some tracks of tears down his face, although they were basically invisible by now. Alfred fell into step next to him.

"Wanna enlighten me on what happened?"

"I don't know what you mean," Matthew muttered unconvincingly. America raised an eyebrow. "Really. I'm fine."

"You and I both know that's not true," said America, putting one hand on Matthew's shoulders. Under Alfred's concerned touch, Matthew literally dissolved and began sobbing openly. Alfred let go frantically and pulled his curly-haired friend into the bathroom so nobody gave him weird looks.

"Okay, Mattie. It's okay." With the affectionate nickname, Matthew only bawled harder and Alfred backtracked hastily. "What's wrong?"

"F-Francis!"

"Okay. What about him?" Alfred has his own opinions about Francis (none of them good), but he knew that Matthew had been crushing on him since the first day of freshman year (Matthew was a sophomore, like Alfred). So he decided to withhold them as one of his amazing herolike qualities.

"G-girl!" Matthew whimpered.

"Francis with a girl? How is that unusual?"

Matthew continued to cry, so America had to put together the story word by word. Apparently, Matthew had walked into the library to check out a book (he absolutely loved reading anything he could get his hands on- encyclopedias to magazines). He had been flipping through a very interesting-sounding book called Songs of Our Love when he had looked up and spotted a freshman girl confessing to France. She had told him of her undying love and, to Matt's horror, she flung herself onto France and they began to make out right in front of everyone. Matthew had put his book back on the shelf almost robotically, and then walked into the hallway, trying and failing to keep perfect composure. America found him a few minutes later- then the rest, as is the cliché saying, was history.

"Oh, Matthew. Don't worry about it, really. France was probably going to reject her anyway. He probably just wanted to enjoy the free make-out with a hot freshman."

"B-B-But!" But Alfred!"

"It's TOTALLY fine. Okay? Okay. Now go home, eat some raw brownie batter, and watch chick flicks."

"But it's the middle of third period!"

"No, you can't defy big brother. GO. HOME." With that, America grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him off, shoved him into Alfred's prized vintage Mercedes, and drove him to his apartment, where he proceeded to dump him outside and drive off in a blast of exhaust. Canada stood on the sidewalk for a minute in stupefied silence before sighing and going upstairs into the apartment he rented. He sat in front of his TV and watched a chick flick and ate brownie batter, figuring there was nothing else to do but actually listen to America for once.

His doorbell rang and Canada sighed, pausing his movie and walking to the door and opening it.

"Hello, Matthew!" said a cheerful voice. It was France. FRANCE. Standing on his doorstep with the late afternoon sun streaming through his blonde hair, looking as gorgeous and radiant as ever. France was finally outside his door, wanting to talk to him, and Matthew had chocolate brownie batter all over his face. He squeaked and slammed the door in France's face. He ran to the bathroom, washed his face completely, and opened the door a crack again.

"Hi," he said, blushing to the roots of his hair and smiling feebly. "Come in."

France grinned at him and walked into the house, taking off his shoes when he saw Matthew's black hi-top converses placed neatly by the door.

"So, what brings you by this way, cutting third period?" He said in an unnaturally high voice.

"Well, your friend America came to me and basically explained that you had seen the scene at the library and had secretly liked me for a few years."

"...Well, you know, he exaggerates sometimes," squeaked Canada, secretly cursing America repeatedly.

"Really?" France said with a smirk, leaning close to Matthew. "What did he exaggerate about?"

"Um," stammered Matthew, turning blood red again (It was a pity, especially considering he had almost gone back to his normal skin tone). Whatever he had been going to say flew from his head the second he felt France's warm breath fanning his face.

"Yes?"

"Um... Ilikeyou!" Matthew said, not acting particularly smooth or subtle at all. France grinned hugely.

"I know," he said confidently, leaning in and kissing Matthew. He instantly gasped, and Francis took the opportunity to stick his tongue into the surprised blonde's mouth. The kiss went on for several minutes, but it seemed like eternity to Matthew- and not in a bad way.

Francis finally pulled back, smirking. "Mmm. You taste like brownies." Matthew blushed yet again. "Well, Mattie?" He purred. "Did you enjoy your first kiss?"

"H-how did you know it was my first?"

"America told me." He chuckled when he saw the irritation flicker across Canada's face. "He also told me something else."

"Really? What?" France leaned down and kissed Canada on the lips again.

"Happy belated birthday, mon cher."