France sifted through the wreckage of his kitchen, sighing miserably at the sight of broken glassware strewn everywhere. Anyone passing by would have assumed that his home had been ransacked by a team of thugs when that was far from the truth. And the day and had seemed to hold so much promise.
His morning started off with his usual routines of waking, dressing and preparing breakfast when it was interrupted by a knock at his door. Behind it he had found a widely smiling Italy happily bouncing back and forth from foot to foot. "Big brother France!"
"Italy?" France had asked, opening the door wider and looking down at the brunette with confusion. "What are you doing here? Aren't we enemies?"
The Italians face had fallen a miniscule amount. "Do you not want to spend time with me?"
"What?! No, of course I do!" France tried to cover and felt relief as Italy brightened again. He cast a scrutinizing gaze over the younger nation and particularly on his hair. "You've colored your hair darker?"
"Oh, this?" Italy laughed. "What do you think?"
France had hummed as he studied it. "It looks more like your brother's now."
Had he been paying better attention than he had been, he would have taken better notice of how Italy grimaced for a fleeting moment before returning to a bright smile. And France frowned as he recalled how he hadn't, instead opening the door wider and inviting the Italian to join him inside. Hindsight would always be best, he recalled, righting one of his chairs and collapsing into it. He had never seen it coming, that as soon as his door was closed he would be roughly forced against it.
The images that filtered through his mind of the events that passed over the course of the day made him flinch and he was sure he was going to have nightmares for a long while that involved bright fuchsia eyes and the most sadistic laugh he had ever heard. And now he found he didn't even have wine to drown out the memories of the day.
He gave a hollow laugh as he put his head into his hands. "Look at me; big brother's in quite a state…" France closed his eyes hoping that perhaps this was all a dream and he would wake up to find his home the same as it always was and the Italy he had known waving a white flag outside his window. "I should have known he would have changed some day, my cute little Italy. Apparently this world, and this war has had some sort of effect on you?"
His eyes briefly opened just to note that nothing had changed and he closed them once again and sighed. "This is all rather hopeless, is it not? I just wish there was something to be done…"
There was a strange popping noise and France looked up to find another occupant in his home. Whoever it was facing away from him and he could see two wings extended from this person's back and a small halo hovering above their head. France gasped at the sight; an angel. There was no other explanation for it other than standing before him was a true to life angel-
"Oh bullocks, where the hell am I now?"
An angel with the mouth of an English pirate.
"England?" France asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.
Britannia Angel whipped around, spotting France sitting not too far away and scowled. "You?! " he growled, "It was you? No, tell me there's someone else here."
"You mean Italy?" France looked away and muttered under his breath, "You just missed him."
"Italy?" The angel straightened and tilted his head. "Why was he here?"
"Boredom? Wanted to visit? Was ordered to by Germany? Take your pick." France leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "I don't think it really matters the reason for what he's done."
"He did all of this?" The angel asked, taking in the extent of the damage all around him.
"This is what he did while I was unconscious…" France stared at the ceiling as it avoided having to look at the other. "While I was awake? Well…" his lips turned into upwards into a weak smile, "How about a change of topic, mon ange. Why are you here in the most revealing of tunics when I normally have to force you into such attire the rest of the time? Unless…" he switched to a large Cheshire cat grin, "you are here for certain reasons of love and lust that only I can provide? Oh, mon ange, que mes baisers soient les mots d'amour que je ne te dis pas."
"That's not why I am here, you twit!" The angel screeched.
France laughed. "Then do you have a better reason? Or has it come into fashion in Britain to wear hemlines that nearly expose one's vital regions?"
"That's not it either!" Britannia Angel yelled, trying to pull the edge of tunic down further. "Whether I like it or not, I'm here to help you."
"Help?" The nation seemed to think about this for a moment. "Well if you want to help, you could start by picking up some of the things that are on the floor." He lazily grinned at the perplexed angel.
"Help pick up…?" Britannia Angel repeated slowly, looking between the strange face France was making and the items on the floor. "Wait, bastard," when he had finally put all the pieces together, "You are just hoping that I'll flash my arse at you while bending over."
"And if you could face that way when you do…" France pointed to the opposing wall.
"You are unbelievable! Is this really all you ever think about?"
"No, not always." France shrugged, "But you cannot blame me for seizing this opportunity while it has presented itself."
"I very well can blame you!" The angel snarled, "You get one wish. I grant that wish, then I leave and we all go back to our normal lives." He paused for a moment and then added, "No, you cannot wish for that!" and enjoyed the deflated look on the other's face.
France twisted a stray lock of hair while he thought of what to wish for. "What would you change about me, mon ange?" he finally said.
"Everything." The angel spat out.
France sighed. "Non, specifics. What don't you like?"
"Your flashy and ridiculous clothes, your stupid notions on love and romance, and your happy and carefree ways of thinking simply running around outside will promote beauty, especially if you do so without clothing." Britannia Angel ticked off on his fingers.
France blinked several times. "Well, I was going to let you wish for me so that I might catch a glimpse of what lay beneath your outfit, but now…"
"Oh, if that's what you want, then who am I to deny you such a wish?" The angel grinned, quickly materializing his wand and pointing it the nation in front of him.
"Ack! Wait! Can't I just wish to not feel the pain from being tortured all day?" France tried, holding up his hands in surrender.
The angel paused, contemplating the request. "Hmm… I can add that in too if you would like."
France thought about it for another minute and nodded grimly. "Do as you wish, Angleterre. I don't think I care anymore."
AN: Oh dear, this is a bit of a cliff hanger, is it not? Until next week! Thank you everyone for your amazing reviews! I tried to answer all of them and I think I have except for the guest ones but if I forgot yours I'm terribly sorry!
mon ange, que mes baisers soient les mots d'amour que je ne te dis pas: My angel, let my kisses be the words of love I do not say