I don't own the Hetalia Franchise

((Hey guys so quick note. I write these chapters at around 2:00AM so the punctuation isn't all there and I'm not going to bother to really watch for it. So if you notice something, please just make a mental note to never write it yourself and move on. Love you all.))

Francoise hadn't per say been rude to France during her stay, but she hadn't been endearing either. She would sit at the kitchen table, sipping from a small coffee cup, reading the news or one of France's books. He would come in every so often to check in on her or try to start conversation or offer to make her a meal which she would quietly accept. Unlike the other's their relationship had no yelling or any grand happenings. It was stagnant and France didn't like it. He felt uncomfortable bringing guests into his home and would try to do his work in the kitchen with her in hopes some form of conversation would start.

However, one day he had left to pick up something. Francoise made sure the entire building was vacant. She went into the kitchen and shut her eyes.

"Hey Francoise?" Just as she had done in the prison cells, Alice had shut down her physical body and dedicated all of her energy to transmitting her consciousness to Francoise. It was one final magic trick she could do without the use of her wand.

"Ah mon ami! How I've missed you. Is Monsieur England with you?"

"No for once finally. You?"

"I'm alone yes. Are you sure you can keep this up? It was quite a strain doing it just in the holding cells."

"Yeah I'm fine as long as nobody moves my body."

Alice and Francoise were having a conversation, but to the naked eye it looked like Alice was in a trance or in a coma while Francoise was just talking to herself. In her mind, Francoise could hear Alice clear as day.

"I've missed you" Francoise said wistfully. "But in all honesty I'm growing weary of this."

"I get it, but I'm not really sure what to do. You're the only one I know how to do this with so I can't contact the others. Arthur refuses to take me to other homes so I suppose the next time we see each other will be the next time they find someone."

"What damnation."

Francoise heard a door unlock and open. "Alice I have to go! He's back!"

"So soon? Bollucks okay." And with that the connection was lost.

France came into the kitchen room where Francoise had gone back to reading her book. He walked up to her in a flittering excitement, put down a box he was holding onto the table and clasped her hands. "Francoise! My beloved sister! Big brother is taking you out for a drink."

"Excusez-moi ?"

"I was so caught up in the moment that I totally forgot that we don't have to stay here in this house! Come on I want to treat you!" France pulled her out of the chair with a smile, his bolstering confidence so sudden, almost unnerving.

"Mr. France, are you alright?" Francoise asked.

"Please Mademoiselle call me big brother Francis!" He gave a dramatic sway. "What a wonderful name! Does that mean we're Francis and Francoise Bonnefoy, the most beautiful siblings in all of history?"

"Wait! How did you find this out?"

"Eh?"

"Your name! How do you know your name?!" She shouted. For the first time since they'd been together she had lost her composure.

France gave a devilish smile. "It's a secret, but I'll tell you if you go have a drink with me. I'll take you to a nice place with the finest wine!" Francoise huffed, but there was this odd sensation of relief.

"Very well, but…"

"Wait! Hold that thought! Here I got something for you." He handed her the box with jittery excitement. "Go on open it open it!" Hesitantly she opened the box and, amidst the rose colored tissue was a coffee crème colored dress with a black lace over the top half of it, laced flowers and falling petals acting as the sleeves. The bottom part had cascading black flowers with black lacing at the bottom of the dress.

It was beautiful and, from what Francoise could see, it would fit her well. "Francis it's beautiful, but why?"

He nonchalantly shrugged. "I have a new sister! Am I not to treat and spoil her?"

She looked down at the dress and then back at her goofy looking brother. She took a seat at the table and looked at it some more. It was beautiful, and she was angry because she loved it. "I…" she looked away from his face. "Thank you I suppose." Her voice was low.

A dress wouldn't win her heart back after years of prejudice on his end. Who did he think he was? "Non, I can't." France's excited face suddenly dropped. He wistfully smiled and looked down at his feet. "Oh, I see. Well then, it would be ludicrous for me to try and make amends with clothes. I just…I wish I knew what our life was Francoise, so I could know where my guilt lies."

He walked out of the room with slumped shoulders, defeated. Francoise looked to him and then to the dress. She thought to herself that there would be no real harm trying on such a dress. She snuck to the restroom and tried it on, neatly folding her purple cloak around the rest of her clothes. She slowly put on the dress, making sure her fingers didn't catch in any of the lace. She pressed it down lightly and looked in the mirror. It had been so long since she had been given such a gift. Alice had always given her great gifts for the events, but they had always been practical gifts like stationary or fancy pens. She did a turn and looked at it from all angles. She lingered there looking at it, but then realized that being in here for too long would arouse suspicion, so she took off the dress and put her clothes back on.

She walked out, but to her surprise Francis was waiting at the door. "What do you think? Love it no? I picked it out myself of course." Francoise turned red with embarrassment.

"Please Francoise; I want to get to know you again. I want to be your family. Just let me offer a drink."

She paused and gave a sigh. "Fine, you may."

He gave a victory spin. "Wonderful! What time is it? Three? Ok, we'll leave in three hours! Do you need anything? Would you like to eat anything?"

"Francis please, you're smothering me!"

"Oh Je suis désolé! I'm just so excited!"

So for three hours he excitedly cleaned the house and stressed over what outfit to where while Francoise tried to figure out how in God's name he could've figured out his old name.

The clock struck six. Francoise looked in the mirror of the restroom, no makeup on her face. Her purple cloak was folded up and placed neatly on top of a cabinet. She looked at the dress that fit her body so perfectly. She felt her throat tightening up at the sight, but it would be a hit on her own dignity to call off plans the moment before. She left the restroom and saw Francis holding a jacket for her by the door, his long blond hair tied back in a pink ribbon. He was wearing a casual suit but he smelled of expensive cologne. She took the coat but didn't look him in the face. He started to babble on about how he foresaw the evening going, but she was lost in her own thoughts. They went out the door. She held her breath as she crossed the threshold, the trackers rubbing against her bare neck and wrists. She was going to find out what exactly Francis had learned. She was ready to once more delve into the unknown.

(The next few chapters may be kind of slow since there are so many characters and individual plots and historical realizations. Hopefully it'll still be interesting though. Also, the switch from calling him France to Francis was intentional.)