Cheering up Scotland.

France peeked his head around the door, wrinkling his nose at the dinginess of the small Scottish pub. He browsed the pub for the familiar mess of scarlet hair that belonged to his best friend. He sighed when he recognised no one in the busy pub. He closed the door again and sighed, looking out on the street. This was the 8th bar that he had checked today and he still hadn't found Scotland.

"L' Ecosse… Where are you hiding today?..." He tapped his foot impatiently.

He lifted his head to see two Scottish ladies stopping to look at the strange blonde man. He winked and blew a kiss at them. They giggled before rolling their eyes and walking away. He sighed. You never knew how Scottish women would act when you flirted with them. Some would return the gesture, some would ignore it and some would just punch him in the face. In a way, they resembled the country they came from well.

He became walking down the street, wondering where he would find the elusive Scotsman. He paused by a window and stared into another pub. "This place was littered with ze bars, it's almost as bad as L' Irlande…"

He glanced at a paper calendar in the corner of the window, flinching at the date. "Ze 16th?" He looked around worried. If that was today's date then Scotland was going to be difficult today. "At least I know where L'Ecosse is hiding now…" He pondered whether or not it was worth trying to talk to Scotland today.

Finally after a few minutes of thinking, he decided he might as well visit and try to talk to the stubborn country. "If he doesn't knock me out first, of course. Ohohohoho." He laughed as he remembered the reason why Scotland had beaten him into unconciousness last time. Let's just say it included England, alcohol and a skimpy maid's outfit that France had ordered specially on line.

England had fewer bars and pubs than Scotland so it would be easy to find the red-headed man. France, however, already knew which pub Scotland would be in. It was always the closest one to England's house.

He pushed open and looked around the near empty bar.

It was very different from a Scottish one. In Scotland, the bars would have a loud TV, featuring golf, football or rugby, competing with the sound of the noisy Scotsmen who drank merrily after work. It was always happy and loud in a bar but it only took one word to turn it into a huge brawl that would eventually be broken up by some passing police.

An English bar, on the other hand, would usually be empty though unless a major sports match or event was on. And when there was, it would start off quiet before the alcohol took effect and then it would resemble a tamer Scotland's or in some cases Ireland's pubs. No fighting, of course.

The Frenchman grinned when he saw the back of a ginger man in the corner. The few English men who had come out for a drink were clearly avoiding the near murderous atmosphere that hung around the glaring Scotsman who sipped on a cup of black coffee.

"L'Ecosse! Iz this where you have been hiding?" He yelled cheerily across the bar. Scotland turned his head, glaring with his piercing green eyes. His eyes narrowed even more when he saw the blonde man waving enthusiastically at him and his frown deepened. Already determined not to pay any heed to the unhappy nation's glare, France made his way through the bar and plopped himself down on a chair facing him.

He ignored the sour look on his face. "Euuh! Glaring won't scare me off." He smiled as Scotland continued shooting daggers at him.

"Aye but a punch might!" He snapped. The Frenchman merely laughed. He smiled sadly at the country.

"I take it that you have already zeen L'Angeterre?..." He nodded his head curtly.

"Aye."

"Is he alright?"

"Hosed." France leaned back in his chair uncomfortably. He looked at the coffee curiously.

"Irish?"

"Nar. Just a plain black." France raised one small blonde eyebrow.

"Just noir? No whisky?" Scotland didn't answered but strummed two fingers on the table impatiently.

"No cigarette either? L'Ecosse, I hope you are not ill." He said this in a teasing way, hoping to get a small smile from him. Scotland just turned his head to the side, facing away from France. France sighed internally.

Scotland was usually an 'interesting' person to be around but every year on this day, he would just totally shut down. He knew why Scotland did this but France was always determined to try and cheer him up or at least get him to talk. This year seemed a little easier than previous years though. At least Scotland was answering some of his questions.

"Why don't we have a nice drink? I hear zat have nice rhum here." Scotland just placed his half empty coffee cup on the table and sighed.

"Na…." France shifted in here chair, looking at a stain on the wood of the table.

He looked up again in surprise when the Scotsman continued. "Drinking is fer celebrating. Gitting hammered when yer are doon is wasteful." France looked at Scotland, examining his expression as it stared at the wall. He really was different from England who would drink to forget his sadness (or to try and trick America into becoming drunk and spilling secrets.).

"Oui. I guess zat makes zense."

Scotland finished his coffee in a couple of more gulps. He touched his pocket as if he was going to take something out but stopped. He looked up at the Frenchman and studied his face for a few moments. France was obviously uncomfortable trying to deal with the irritable country.

"Oi!" The blue eyed country looked at him, shocked that he was starting a conversation instead of sulking and glaring at everyone. "Yer got any smokes?"

"A cigarette?"

"Aye. A cigarette." He sounded impatient. The Frenchman noticed the empty ash tray.

"You have none yourself?" This was surprising as it was well known that the nation had a near endless supply on his person at all times. Scotland sighed angrily.

"Nae or I wouldnae be asking!" The French man scratched his scraggly chin, thoughtfully.

"Mayze…." Scotland gritted his teeth, trying to restrain himself. "How ze bout you have a drink with me and mayze I will give vous un cigarette." France held his breath and crossed his fingers under the table. If Scotland said no then the red head would just get up and leave angrily but if he said yes… well at least once he has had a bit of alcohol, he will probably want more and if he was lucky, Scotland would be more open and like his regular self by the evening.

Scotland glared at him, trying to assess the reason for the blonde's request. His fingers itched to hold something between them and he was beginning to feel the withdrawal effects from the lack of nicotine. He had limited himself to one packet of cigarettes today and was now feeling worse because of it. His last cigarette was at England's house a couple of hours ago. He relented after a while.

"Aye… aye…" France burst into a huge grin.

"Oui! Zat's the L'Ecosse I know!" Scotland rolled his eyes and raised his hand lazily into the air.

"A pint of lager…."

"And un glass of ze wine!" Scotland sounded annoyed at the thought of drinking today. Rather than putting his hand down again, he reached back and rubbed his back again. France noticed that he touched or massaged his back a lot on this day or when he was under a lot of stress. He also knew why. He had only seen the Scot's back a couple of times and it was clear while he was hesitant to show it off or why he touched it when very worried.

Scotland had gulped down the pint quickly and slammed the empty glass on the table. He wiped his mouth with the black of his glove and sighed, half content and half sad. France raised an eyebrow at the speed in which he had devoured his drink. "Another one?"

"Aye. Plus ma cigarettes." France nodded to the barman who began filling another glass. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes which he tossed lazily at the red-head. He caught it easily, pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He took a deep puff on the cigarette like he had a lack of air and this was his first breath in a while. He made a small 'ahhh' sound. France smiled. Scotland wasn't glaring at him anymore but he still frowned heavily.

"So L'Ecosse. Are you feeling better?" A steady annoyed green glare answered that question. "How is L'Angleterre?" He knew he had already asked this earlier but he was hoping for a better answer than just 'Hosed.' Scotland paused and took another breathe of his cigarette. He looked uncomfortable now that he wasn't angrily looking at him.

"Hosed."

"More than just 'Hosed' mon cher. Will he be able to go to ze world meeting next month?"

"Aye. He'll be okay by next week though he will be a tad sore." France leaned forward to look closer at Scotland and his reactions.

"No marks then?" Scotland shifted his weight at the question, clearly not liking where this was going but his voice was still steady.

"Nae…. I donnae like leaving marks." He snuffed out his cigarette and pulled out a second one and lit it. France smiled slightly.

"Still can't do it, non?" Scotland looked sharply at him, his annoyance and anger returning.

"Nae. I still cannae leave any scars!…." France smiled more.

"So you do still love him?" Scotland choked slightly on his cigarette.

"Whut?"

"You adore your younger brother." He sang. The French man smiled in victory.

"He's a wee galoot!" Scotland was almost shouting.

"He's still your petit frère though." Scotland grumbled some exotic language under his breath and the blue-eyed man chuckled.

The second pint was placed on the table and Scotland eyed it up. He always tried not to drink when upset in case he said something revealing but he was dying for a decent drink but coffee was only making his mood sourer. France saw his indecisiveness. He urged the nation to drink silently in his head. France took a sip of his red wine, making a contented sigh, hoping to show Scotland that drinking is good.

( A/N - Don't listen to France kids. Alcohol is poison. Good tasting poison and great fun at parties but still poison. It will kill you. So no Drinking!... Unless you are over 18 and really want to… or 21 in America. Lol – you can have sex, use guns and smoke by the time you are 18 but you can't start drinking until you are 21? What do you guys have against beer? Anyway – No alcohol, it's dangerous. And a poison)

Scotland sighed irritated and grabbed the pint. France smiled and leaned back in his chair as the alcohol disappeared down the red-head's throat.

About 8 empty beer glasses later, and 6 wine glasses on France's behalf, and Scotland had begun talking like normal. France was enjoying this time with his friend, though every now and again the country would go into a mood when France said something that made Scotland think about the date, and was impossible to get out until the subject was changed or another drink was brought out.

"So L'Ecosse. Did she really say zat?"

"Aye! The lassie was bonnie but a big crabit! Throwing a huge radge just cause I wouldnae buy her a swally!" The Frenchman laughed heartily. He was one of the few countries that could understand the Scotsman's heavy accent.

"Oui! Zat is just like you mon cher!" Scotland joined in the laughter. The gentle patter of rain on the window was drowned out by their loud voices.

(A/N - French accents are so hard! I hate them a little now. I think I killed France! (his accent anyway...) But I loved doing the Scottish one! Usually I have to edit the way I say things so the world can understand me but now i can type freely. Unfortunatly I have the feeling I am going to have to translate it into regular english... :L Might as well do it any way! Thpugh most can probably guess.

Scottish to English speaking world translations!

Hosed - Broken, battered, drunk, beat up (you get the idea)

Fer - For

Yer - your

Aye - yes (used surprisingly more than you think)

Irish (when talking about coffee) - a black coffe with whiskey in it. (blame Ireland.)

Gitting hammered when yer are doon is wasteful - Getting drunk when you are sad is pointless

Donnae - don't

Cannae - can't

Wannae - want

Nae, Na, Nar , Nee - No (it's a little amazing how many works we have for no..)

Whut - What (usually how we say it annoyed and angryily)

Ma - my (Ma bonnie flew over the ocean. Ma bonnie flew over the sea. Ma bonnie flew over the ocean so bring back ma bonnie to me. - everytime I say ma this song comes into my head!)

Wee - small, tiny, short etc.

Galoot - clumsy, cluzt, idiot or all three

Aye! The lassie was bonnie but a big crabit! Throwing a huge radge just cause I wouldnae buy her a swally! - Yeah! The girl was pretty but very irritable! She started acting like a mad man because I wouldn't but her a drink. (raise your hand if you couldn't understand what Scotland said here without this guide! I know you are out there!)

We also pronouced our 'a's differently too. Most of our 'a's sound like Day without the D (basically ay) while England's 'a's sound more like Ah. So Scotland - Ay and England - Ah.

I feel so multi-lingal now despite being barely able to speak french. I can't be bother translating any french words but they should be easier than Scotland's. Did I mention my hatred for writing down the French accent before. It's so hard! Please Review!)