The Highlands of Scotland were covered in patches of purple thistle.
Two men walked along, hand-in-hand: one was tall and blonde; the other was taller and red-headed. The red-head was carrying a picnic basket in his other hand. Finally, they stopped and sat on a large, flat rock.
"It's a beautiful day today."
"Aye."
France began unpacking the picnic basket, but he paused when he caught the Scottish man brooding. "What is wrong, Écosse?"
"Franny, do- do you love me?"
"Mais oui! Of course I do. Why would you ask me such a zhing?"
Scotland sighed. "I was thinkin'…"
"Never a good zhing," France interjected.
Scotland ignored the interjection, "What is yer current relationship wit' Norway?"
"I do not have one. He is a friend."
"But-"
"Non." France laid a finger against Scotland's lips. "Zhere is nozzhing. I love you, and only you."
"If you're sure…"
"You are not jealous, are you?"
"No!" Scotland exclaimed, while blushing.
"Mon cheri, I am not believing you. So you are jealous of Norway."
"I guess," Scotland grumbled.
"Zhere is no reason. Zhat was long ago." France laid a soft, chaste kiss on Scotland's cheek.
"Fine! Fine, I believe ye."
"So you will not be bringing zhis up again?"
"Probably not, why?"
France grinned impishly. "Zhen you will not speak of your own…liaisons wiz Monsieur Norway?"
"No!"
"I zhought not." France leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. "But you are so cute when you are jealous."
"Cute?"
"Oui. Très mignon."
"Francis!"
"Alistor!" France mocked him.
Scotland sighed as France climbed into his lap. "Fine, but Franny, how exactly did Normandy…?"
"Je ne sais pas. His magic, perhaps? I do not concern myself wiz such zhings."
That got the wheels in Scotland's head turning. For now, though, he merely shook his head. "Thanks fer putting up wit' my paranoia, Franny."
France laughed softly. "But who else would?"
"Tha's not very nice," Scotland replied sternly.
"Tu sais que tu m'aime, Alistor."
A/N: What if these random interludes in the Highlands of Scotland were *actually* the real story, and everything else was filler? It's like story-ception!