It's been a while since I've written, huh? The last story was 'Recovery' (besides 'Craving' that is… ), but I never got to finish that due to laziness and the fact that Japan decided to spring up an idea along the same road. So here I am once again, . Hope I can get some readers for this one too.

My first Hetalia fanfiction! I know I've tried to write many a fic for other series such as Phoenix Wright and Gundam 00. Well, here goes nothing though!

Title comes from the attempted Anglo-Franco Union. At the time, the French called it Frangleterre. Fr=France and angleterre=England.

Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia or any of its characters.

This is YAOI. Don't like. Don't read.

"M-marry…you?"

The words stumbled out of the Englishman's mouth more slurred that he would have liked. He continued to gape at the man from across the table, which despite their elegant posture was looking rather nervous.

"Do not think I have not considered other possibilities, mon chéri."

"No."

"B-but! I am desperate! You have to understand, Angleterre!"

"Hell no, and don't call me that!"

"It is your name after all." The Frenchman pointed out. He leaned back in the sitting chair, looking even more relaxed than ever. His fingers grasped the chair's arms tightly unbeknownst to the stammering nation across the way.

"My NAME is England, wanker!" He continued to be seated, although acting rather irritated about the conversation. Of course he would never let the country of love know that secretly he had won over a part of his heart. So he glared instead as France pulled out a piece of paper.

"Please." The other begged. Any other time and England would be laughing in his face at the shear patheticness that France's face now held. England looked away and scoffed.

"No for the final time. What, is this your idea of an April Fool's Joke? It's not even April Fools Day, you fool. Why don't you go out and get yourself a calender?" He rambled. Trying to get away from France was proving harder than he thought. Every time he would make a move against him, he was always pulled back, whether it was from the beautiful aroma that surrounded the man or the deep emotion that were in his sparkling blue eyes.

"A-ah, yes! This is a calender!" France held it up. England strained to read it from his distance. It could be clearly read as:

Marriage Certificate.

England froze and felt himself forget to breathe for a moment. He was serious this time wasn't he? England never took to heart any of France's moves upon him, because frankly, he was never truly serious.

It hurt England even a little to gaze at the paper and know that again, this really wasn't a serious effort on France's part. It was about money after all. He had seen it persuade many countries into joining unions with one another.

"T-that's not a calender, git! It's a marriage certificate!" He voice was already shakey due to shock, but nothing more. Thankfully, it added to his acting and France and he fell into their same routine of fighting.

"Non! It is a calender!" France grabbed England's hand and proceded to place a pen in it and force the letters for England out onto the paper. England held back a blush as their skin made contact and focused on the task at hand.

With a few swipes of the pen, the ink scratched out England's name. France yelled out something not of any language and fell to his knees. He grabbed the hem of England's suit. He wasn't crying or shaking, so this mearly was another one of his ploys he was so good at.

England swipped his hand away and started to walk away. France once again held onto England. "Please, my people and I...we are desperate!"

"Should have thought about that before you wasted all your money, then." France grabbed both his arms and dragged him away.

"It'll all be alright." He repeated to himself as England tried to struggle against him.

-!-

England woke up to someone shaking him. Blinking a few times the fuzzy image became clearer. Blond hair, glasses...America?

He sat up quickly from what appeared to be a couch. He panted slightly and turned to America.

The other person gave a weak smile and cocked their head to one side. "I'm sorry, I'm not exactly the person you wanted to see, right?" His voice was low and England wasn't even sure if he had even spoke.

"Oh...Canada." England rubbed the back of his neck. It was sore and he imagined he had slept wrong on the overly soft sofa. "Sorry, for a minute I thought you were-"

"America, I know." Canada said, cutting him off. England gave him a long stare before smoothing out the blanket that covered him. As he did, he froze and let out a silent scream. Canada put a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

"C-canada? What happened? Tell me that bloody frog didn't do what I think he did!"

"England, please calm down!" Canada attempted once more. England only grabbed the younger country's arms and shook him slightly.

"What happened, Matthew?"

Canada stood quiet for a moment. Many didn't use their given human names hardly at all. Canada was surprised that someone other than France had remembered it. "Well..."

"I have a ring. Please tell me that he really didn't..."

"Um...he really did?" Canada said back, though saying it more like a question rather than a statement.

England buried his face in his knees. He sat there 'mourning' until both nations heard the front door open. England knew full well now that this was Canada's home, so the only other person besides the occasional Cuba that came along was...

France entered the room with multiple bags in hand. Canada stood up slowly and walked to the side of the wine-loving country. England looked up, hair brushing against his eyelashes, darkly to France.

"You..." He uttered, but sounded like it had come from some sort of demonic creature. France set down the bags and pulled out a tiny mahogany box from one of them.

"Settle down now. I went through the trouble of getting you this, after all." He opened it up so that England could see that it was tea leaves individually wrapped in cloth. "Let's see, there's Earl Grey and Chai, oh and here's some-"

England lunged at him causing the box to fall to the floor. His hands so desperatly wanted to grab and wrap themselves around the Frenchmen's neck. Instead they clutched at the smooth fabric around his collar.

He glanced down, not wanting the other nation to see the other in such shame. England was far too proud for that. So, he gazed at their feet. He took in the fact that at one point he was as tall as France, but now, significantly shorter. His style of shoes were a little out of date as well.

"Angleterre..."

"So, what do you want from me, frog?"

"Eh?"

"What? Do you think now that you've managed to actually make this work that I'd stay around?" England spat. He still stared at the ground, but his grip on France tightened.

"Our people need this, Angleterre..." France said quietly, not at all like his flamboyant self.

"Do they now?" England responded sarcastically. He let go and turned towards what was the entrance and started to walk away. "I'm going."

"You can't walk away from this, mon cheri."

"Watch me, frog."

"What would your people say?"

"They already hate you, it makes no difference."

"And if it did, Angleterre? What if they actually wanted to see this work? If you walk away now they might never forgive you."

England said nothing for a moment. Without turning to face France he spoke. "So what am I supposed to do?" Desperation lingered in his voice.

"At least try, mon lapin peu chers."

England turned to him. His face was a bit sullen but firm. He refused to meet the Frenchman's eyes. His fists clenched then released. "..Fine..."

Canada gaped in utter surprise. He wasn't expecting to see England give in so easily. The Britshman was still set in his ways after all, but it looked as if he could be persuaded to change.

"One condition."

"What would that be?"

"Stop calling me things like that!"

Canada sighed. Or perhaps not...

So, first chapter done! I know, I know. SHORT. Good start though I think. The irony in all this is that I am of English descent. My whole family came over from England, so I have great pride in my homeland. After all I am 3rd generation from their immigration here. I can't say exactly how they got here, but it involves Canadians! XD

In other words: I DON'T SPEAK FRENCH. Granted I am learning Spanish and Italian, but French isn't for me. So if I mess up, feel free to correct. I am using friends, my own pety knowledge and dictionaries to help me.

French:

Angleterre: England

Mon chéri: my darling

mon lapin peu chers: my dear little rabbit

PLEASE REVIEW! Next chapter is named: To your place or mine?