|France's Secret Folder Number 5
Author: StarrNight PM
Unbeknownst to England, France has been keeping a memoir of all of his drunken antics for the past five hundred years. Following a change in England's relationship status, France decides to revisit the past. USUK, slight FrUK and lots of French perviness!Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Romance - France & England/Britain - Chapters: 8 - Words: 16,758 - Reviews: 35 - Favs: 24 - Follows: 35 - Updated: 07-04-12 - Published: 03-02-12 - id: 7890311
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
This is audience testing for a new fic! If you want to read more, please review and say so, otherwise I'll scrap it and go on to another story!
"Hey Fever" sparked this idea in my mind…it's the revelation of France's secret files of England's drunken antics!
Introduction refers to "Hey Fever," but the rest of the story won't.
France's Secret Folder #5
Chapter One: France's Historical Hobby
France considered himself a man of many talents. He could cook, he could make wine, he could play instruments, he was charming, he had the body of a god…in his humble opinion, the list went on and on. Most of his talents were well-known (and envied, of course) by the other countries, but he made it a point to keep one of his skills to himself; he had a photographic memory. Looking back over the years, he could easily recall any date that he chose and replay the events in his mind. The day he first met the Holy Roman Empire, for instance, was as clear to him as the events of just this morning. What a sullen little boy with big blue eyes! What a sad turn his life took! After all this time, he still didn't know that he…no, that's enough.
France was also good at keeping secrets (when he wanted to, which was rare). The Holy Roman Empire's story was his own to tell. At the present, sitting in his living room and sipping fine merlot wine, he was far more interested in his long-time frenemy, England. His history with the island country traced far, far back…and France remembered every bit of it. What a ridiculous country, England. So pert, so stubborn...so adorable! France chuckled a bit as he swirled the wine in his glass.
He'd never had eyes for France, despite all of the latter's attempts. He never would, either, judging by the call France received some mornings ago from Canada. "Bonjour," France had said, picking up the telephone receiver.
"Ah! France, eh! I am so sorry to bother you…"
"Non! You never bozzer me. Zpeak what iz on your mind."
"I was just…I saw…and I wondered…"
France's scandal senses began to tingle. "What? What did you zee?"
Canada hesitated. "It's just…are America and England…are they…are they together?"
"What? What makes you ask zis question, Matthieu?"
More hesitation. "It's just…well, I went to America's house this morning and…well, England was there…"
France lit a cigarette. "Zat means nozzing. He eez zere often."
"Yes, that's true…but he was making breakfast…"
"More scary zan scandalous…" France blew smoke at the phone.
"…and he was naked."
Silence. "And Amerique? What was he wearing?"
"Oh…I'd really rather not say."
France grinned. "Ah. Eez zat so. I will investigate. Zank you for ze notice."
"Wait…you didn't really answer my-" Canada's voice was cut off as France hung up the phone and jumped out of bed. What news this was! Finally! He spent the rest of the day surreptitiously asking other countries questions about England's recent behavior, none of which yielded any results except for Germany, who admitted he'd had a strange encounter with the Brit, during which England had announced that he must be allergic to America because he had begun to feel different around him.
What an idiot. Mistaking love for allergies, honestly! But still! It had happened! It had finally happened! England had realized his feelings for America! It had only taken two hundred years! France wished the two nothing but well when they announced it earlier today at the World Conference. Now that the excitement had died down, France had time to sit down and reflect on England and how long it had taken him to reach this point in his life.
He strolled into his study room, pulled a fragile golden key from his shirt pocket, unlocked a closed bookcase, and swung it open. Folder upon folder of files were lined up inside, each with its own label written in flawless cursive. France's fingers danced down the rows until he found the one he was looking for: file number five. One of his very favorites! He tucked it under his arm and walked back into the den, where he sat himself down on an expensive rug and emptied the papers in the file onto the floor. Each paper contained a few lines of writing, just enough to jog France's memory. Some of the more recent ones had a photograph attached-those were the best.
This file was one of France's pride and joys. Contained in it were pages and pages of memories of England's antics, most of which involved the consumption of alcohol. Inside were pictures, drawings, transcripts of conversations, all pulled from France's perfect memory. For hundreds of years now, he'd been watching England get drunk and do ridiculous things, then writing it down for perusal later. Most of the time England did not remember what he'd done, but oh, France did! And it was all written here! Mon dieu he was a genius!
This was his hobby-recording history as he saw it. More specifically, recording the history England conveniently left out of his biographies. My, but England would have a litter of kittens if he ever saw these! Maybe they'd make a good wedding present to America. Tres amusant!
Using both hands, he shuffled the papers around on the floor so he could reach his hand in and draw one out at random. It had been far too long since he'd looked at these, and he could use the entertainment. He felt around, took hold of a page, and held it in front of his face.
Oh hon hon hon! This is a good one!
Next up: Secret File #1