Hello! Sorry for the long absence. I have no real excuse other than things got busy. I do hope you enjoy where this story is going, let me know if you spot any critical errors. Love you all!

Disclaimer: These characters are owned by the Hetalia franchise.

The Dog Days of Summer

"Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like."

―Lao Tzu

Arthur had to physically grab the counter to keep himself from attacking Francis. "What do you want, you bloody git," he snapped at the Frenchman, glowering at him through angry green eyes.

Francis just snorted and put Alfred's bowl in the dishwasher before turning to look at Arthur. "Oh, I want nothing, partner," he purred, turning to face Arthur from across the bar.

Arthur froze. "Partner?" he asked, rather redundantly. It couldn't be. Francis had retired. Being directly responsible for the death of a three-year-old can take a toll on a man. Surely he wasn't coming back into the field. Right?

"Oui, mon cher," Francis responded. "It appears we'll be working together on this mission. However, I, unlike you, am not going to force Mattie through despicable training. He can rest cozy in Canada, I'll just talk with the school and have them chance his official records under a different name. He need never know what's going on. At least pour maintenant."

Arthur swore under his breath. That wasn't a bad idea. A dangerous one, sure, but not a bad one. At least he knew he'd be the top agent of the mission if they'd assigned Francis to work with him. Francis was beneath him, certainly, after the last incident. He had to get in contact with his higher-ups and double check this information the Frenchman was feeding him. Never trust the French, as they say.

"And one other thing," said Francis on his way out the room, "Antonio and Gilbert will be working with us." And with that, he was gone in a wave of disgustingly pungent perfume.

Arthur groaned and slid down in his seat, rubbing at his eyes. Gilbert. Of course, Gilbert had to be included. That trio was inseparable in the olden golden days. He'd been a drop in on their antics in the past, but after the disaster of their last mission, they'd been split up. Gilbert was sent to America to do undercover shit for the German military. Antonio had also been sent to America, though he was stuck in a laboratory for 99% of his day. Francis was dismissed and sent to a French University to pursue a career in sociology.

Arthur decided to leave the apartment to clear his head. This was all too much information for him to handle. Grabbing his cell phone from the counter, he exited the apartment and headed for the doors of the building. This was all far too overwhelming.

-.-.-.-

Alfred had curled into a ball in his bed. He heard the faint voices of Francis and Arthur emanating from the kitchen, and a viper of jealousy curled deep in the pit of his stomach. He knew Francis had found Mattie and all, but still. It was obvious he and Arthur had some kind of history, the tension that morning had been thick enough to cut it with a knife.

Sighing, Alfred turned onto his back and stared blankly up at the ceiling. How would he even go about joining the CIA? Or the FBI? His phone buzzed next to him on the mattress and he paused to look down at the screen. Ivan's nickname, Commie, flashed across the screen. Intrigued, Alfred pulled the text open and read the enclosed message. He smiled sadly and deleted the text. He had a soul mate now, despite how annoying and pretentious and uncaring Arthur was, he was Alfred's. And Alfred wasn't going to hurt him. Not with Ivan anyway.

Alfred stood with a mind to go back out and talk to Arthur only to hear the front door open and close with a slam. Panic spiked his heartbeat and he slammed out of his room, scanning the kitchen to find it empty. He took a whiff of air, and the horrendous cologne told him Francis had come and gone. Making and about-face, Alfred busted into Mattie's room.

Mattie and Francis were kissing on the bed, but for once, Alfred didn't notice it. "Where the fuck did Arthur go." He demanded of the Frenchman, glaring daggers at him. "What did you do."

Francis raised his hands and chuckled. "I have no clue, mon ami, how am I supposed to know where your soul mate goes. He's not mine."

Alfred saw red. "You fucking asshole, we both know you said shit just to bother him. Don't be some French jackass just because you hate him. I would help you if you lost Mattie. Now fess the fuck up." He snarled, stepping forward. His hands had worked into fists, his tensed muscles standing out in striped cords.

Francis tilted his head at Alfred, some kind of approval in those weird gray eyes. "Why don't you and I talk in private, hm?" he suggested, getting up and kissing a suspicious and annoyed Matthew before leaving the room with Alfred in tow.

"Now then, I told Arthur that he and I would be working together on his mission," confessed the Frenchman. Francis had elected to leave Gilbert and Antonio out of it. He wasn't sure if Arthur had told Alfred of Antonio, and he knew Gilbert wouldn't have come up. Besides, Elizaveta was scary, and last time he'd carelessly mentioned Gilbert to someone she'd beaten the crap out of him.

"Oh," said Alfred, leaning back against the wall and breathing out a sigh. Francis felt a spit of sympathy for the boy. He knew what Alfred and Matthew had been through so far as their parents were concerned. Mattie too would freak out if Francis left without warning or without telling Matthew where he was going.

"He'll be back, cher," said Francis, his voice surprisingly tender all things considered. "Arthur cares for you, that is claire. He wants you safe, and though he and I have different ways of going about that, you should listen to his suggestions. It's for your best health, after all. He's the top agent in this operation, which means you'll be the top target. It won't hurt for you to have some government backing of your own." With that, Francis threw some of his hair over his shoulder and glided back to Matthew.

Alfred was stuck in a rut. How was he going to do this? He wanted to. But he also wanted to major in genetics. He wanted to pursue his dream of being a major genetic scientist, making breakthroughs in hereditary diseases.

It was time for a nap. Maybe that would clear his head enough to make a decision.

-.-.-.-

Arthur sat down in a coffee shop and put his phone to his ear. It rang for a moment before someone picked up.

"Hello?"

"Ah, hi, it's Arthur," said the British man. The squeal of excitement from the other side of the phone had him smiling. His nieces were quite adorable if he were being completely honest. "Is your pa around?" he asked little Felicity. She giggled and handed the phone over.

"Oy, long time no call, lad," said his oldest brother. Allistor was the one family member Arthur could be construed as close to.

"Yes, sorry about that," said Arthur, noting the Scottish flavor to Allistor's words. Allistor had moved to Scotland, electing to go to a Scottish university and date Scottish girls. It took him two years to marry one and have three Scottish children. They all had flaming red hair and Allistor's quick temper.

"It's alright laddy. What's been going on in your life?" Allistor, though quick to anger, never held a grudge. Even though Arthur hadn't called him in something like a year now, he didn't hold it against the younger man. People get busy when they become adults. Lord knows it had taken Arthur long enough to mature into one. Allistor would rather barely talk than receive constant calls from police stations and various other local authorities.

"Well, I found my soul mate," Arthur responded right off the bat. A loud curse from Allistor followed by a call for his wife, Margaret. The phone was put on speaker in a matter of seconds and a clammer of voices attacked his ears at once. Arthur couldn't help but smile at the exuberance of his family.

After an hour of speaking with the Scottish Kirklands, Arthur eventually hung up the phone. He then called his government and questioned them about the Terrible Trio (as they'd been so cruelly nicknamed after the notorious fiasco) working with him. The entire story was eventually explained to him. He was the head agent of the operation, with Arthur, Antonio, and Gilbert serving under him. Gilbert would be the tech head of the operation, Antonio the medic and scientist nerd, and Francis would serve the same role as Arthur, agent in the field.

By the time Arthur headed back to the apartment the sun was setting. When he entered, he was greeted with a bath of warm smells and the gentle sound of music. It sounded classical, which means Francis had made the choice. Arthur's eyes traveled around the living room until they landed on Alfred, who was sitting on the couch rapidly typing things into his computer. The warm light of the various candles Francis had lit in the room danced along the sleek strands of Alfred's hair. A warm feeling curled into Arthur's heart.

-.-.-.-

Alfred looked up to find those green eyes gentle and affectionate. A small smile tilted his lips and he patted the spot next to him for Arthur to come have a seat.

Arthur took the seat hesitantly.

"I have something I need to say, and you're not allowed to interrupt until I'm through, okay?" said Alfred. Arthur nodded his head. "Good. Alright. I know you're doing what you're doing and all… And I know that you want to keep me safe. And I'm going to join my government's secret services and whatever. But I think… I think you need to take a moment to appreciate what I'm giving up here alright? I can't be a geneticist anymore. And that sucks. And I just… Learn some sympathy okay?" Alfred came to a stumbling halt to his awkward statement, refusing to look at Arthur.

Arthur tilted Alfred's chin towards, him his eyes skipping down to those lips and back up before the British man decided to hell with it and leaned forward to kiss his soul mate.

Alfred was startled at first before he relaxed into it, one hand drifting up to Arthur's cheek as he settled into the kiss. It was a sweet one, no tongue or teeth or urgency. Just there to enjoy the moment and demonstrate affection. He was disappointed when Arthur pulled away.

"You're right, Alfred, and I'm… I'm sorry," said Arthur, forcing out that statement. He wasn't a big apologizer. "I shouldn't take what you're doing for granted, and I don't intend to. Thank you, for keeping yourself safe. And you know… Becoming an agent… There are different fields of agents so to speak, right?"

Alfred perked up, intrigued. So Arthur continued on. "There's the scientific, the technological, the field. All kinds of variety. You have to test of course, but ultimately you're placed in the field that's the best fit for you." He smiled halfheartedly. "I don't know if that will help, love, but there it is."

Alfred beamed and hugged Arthur. He wasn't completely happy yet, but he was happier. Maybe he still had a chance. But no matter what, he was going to give it his best. For his sake, and for Arthur's.

"Let's have some dinner."

-.-.-.-

Seeing Alfred turn away was heartbreaking for Arthur. The blue eyes he'd come to adore weren't around for him to look at anymore. Sure, he was seeing more and more color every day, but the color that mattered was that of Alfred's eyes. And he was losing access to that color.

He turned as Alfred disappeared inside of the CIA headquarters. Francis was standing just behind him, along with Gilbert and Antonio. They had a flight to catch, a destination to get to, and a mission to accomplish.

Hopefully, it wouldn't take three years.

And that's the end of this chapter! I don't know about the next update, but I do hope it will be sooner than this one.

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