Hello Hetalia fandom and welcome to my one-shot! I posted this up in honor of Canada Day! Happy Birthday Canada :D

The idea for this came from the realization that even though America and Prussia are similar guys, I always have them not getting along in my one-shots. Maybe I'm subconsciously making it an ego thing between them X)

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. If I did, then how cool would that be?! I would have so much Hetalia merchandise! :3 I also own nothing recognizable

Rated T for language, some anime violence, and sexual references and innuendo

"Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?" Abraham Lincoln

"Fat ass!"

"Dumb ass!"

"Copycat!"

"Loser!"

"Arschloch!"

"I don't even know what that means, dude! That's no fair! You can't use German against me!"

"I spoke in Prussian you dumb shit! It's awesomer than German!"

"It's the same thing, dumb ass!"

"You called me that already you over-bloated buffoon! Gott, you're such a Dummkopf that you can't even come up with better insults!"

"Al, Gil, stop! Knock it off!"

Canada was essentially ignored as America and Prussia viciously had at it. Currently the three were standing alone in the hallway of the World Conference building, the other nations nowhere in sight and scattered about the structure. It was just as well otherwise they'd likely be egging on the argument for the sake of having a bit of entertainment.

Said argument started not too long ago. Having just had lunch, lovers Canada and Prussia were roaming about the building, merely enjoying one another's company as the older nation had an arm around the blonde's waist. They were soon spontaneously joined by America who immediately expressed his distaste at seeing his 'innocent little brother being corrupted by that albino freak.' Needless to say, Prussia didn't take to this too well and retaliated with an insult of his own.

It didn't take too long for a fight to break out.

Canada had been vainly trying to break up the altercation, but was disregarded. Frankly, it was getting a bit frustrating and the blonde was seriously considering just leaving them.

Or maybe he'll just shove them out that nearby window. After all, it wasn't too far a drop…

"Bonjour Matthieu~"

Canada jumped a little at the sudden voice and looked to its owner, surprised to see France standing nearby with a smile. He automatically glanced around him to see who the other man was talking to, but only saw his brother and boyfriend. Surely the flirty country wasn't talking to him, was he? Canada was hardly ever noticed by anyone, even by his old caretaker. He was always so invisible to people that the blonde was already used to others talking to individuals near him (even looking through him at times).

Well, then again, he was the only Matthew within the area.

Recovering himself, shyness immediately took over Canada. "O-Oh, uh, bonjour, Mr. France."

The small pout on the Frenchman's face matched well with the displeased look in his eyes. "Please mon Canada, there's no need for such formalities. Just France or Francis will do. Or better yet, you can call me 'papa' since I did raise you for a while. Oh~ now that would be magnifique!" He happily smiled at the thought.

"U-Um, okay then…France." Former caretaker or not, Matthew wasn't really comfortable with referring to the other as his father, considering that this was the first time the two had actually talked in a long while.

Canada seemed oblivious to the flash of disappointment that flitted within the older man's blue topaz orbs. However, France quickly erased it by reapplying his smile. "That's better, I suppose." He then glanced over at the nations that were still at each other's throats. "So what's the matter with them? Did Prussia insult McDonald's again or did America discredit Prussia's awesomeness?"

The young blonde furrowed his brow and shook his head. "I-I wish it were that petty—it'd definitely be easier to fix. But no, they're just fighting because they don't like each other very much."

"Oh? And why not? I would think that being the two loudest and sloppiest of all the nations would have them getting along, how do you say, swimmingly."

"Uh, you would think, but no. Al doesn't seem to like that I'm dating Gil, and Gil just finds him annoying. It seems like whenever Prussia and I try and get…cozy," he instantly blushed when France adopted his usual perverted countenance, "America always happens to pop in out of nowhere and ruin the moment, sprouting out some ridiculous nonsense about protecting my innocence."

The way that Canada nervously looked away when he said that last part gave France the indication that 'protecting his innocence' was a futile effort at this point. He was so proud of his Matthieu~!

(Never mind that the image of his son making love with Prussia—or anyone really—was rather scarring…)

Getting back on track, France couldn't help but chuckle. "I can only imagine how Gilbert feels about that. Does he say something along the lines of Amérique being, excusez-moi, a cockblock?"

A smile tentatively brushed upon the Canadian's lips. "Something like that. Gil usually complains about that whenever it happens."

"So I take it that it happens often?"

"Way too often. You don't know how many times Alfred has spontaneously visited me because he 'happened to be in the neighborhood' or something. It's obvious though he just wants to make sure that I'm not hanging out with Gilbert." Matthew sighed. "And Prussia doesn't exactly make things easy either. He often likes to provoke America by purposely kissing me in front of him or, um…" his face flushed at some mental image, "err, showing me…affection."

France had an idea of what kind of affection Canada meant. Many a times he witnessed Prussia's hands wandering a bit too low or his lips attaching themselves anywhere but the Canadian's or how he intimately held Canada, whispering things that made the blonde blush.

Though a part of him was proud of his friend for expressing the sensual side of amour, another more paternal part of him wanted to separate the two and demand that they keep their hands to themselves. After all, the fatherly instinct to look out for the younger blonde ran deep.

In fact, sometimes France couldn't help but wonder if his Matthieu will ever view him as more than just another nation and hoped that he would someday. After all, 'Papa' did have a nice ring to it.

Ignoring his nostalgia for the time being, France remarked, "That sounds like something they would do. It must get tiresome and intolerable fairly quickly."

Matthew nodded in agreement. "I just wish that Al and Gil would get along. If only I can somehow get them to stop fighting. They're driving me and each other crazy."

Francis regarded the two bickering nations before them and then looked to his former charge as an idea began to take shape. "Well, why not make them see that they are more alike than different?"

"What? How?"

"Isn't it obvious? Get them to bond over shared interests~"

Canada's soft expression melted into confusion. "What do you mean?"

France smiled at his previous colony, drinking in his refreshing naivety. "Think, Matthieu: what's something that Amérique and Prusse have in common?" It's pretty obvious—I'm looking right at it~

The younger blonde considered it before uncertainly replying, "They're both…loud?"

France emitted a small, bemused chuckle. "Though that may be true, it's not exactly what I meant. Think a bit deeper, mon cher." Or rather look at yourself~

The Canadian did as he was told and took a moment of contemplation to respond, "They both are unbelievably childish and have huge egos."

Though that wasn't precisely what the Frenchman had in mind, it was definitely something to go on. "That's correct, Matthieu. Now think about how you can use that to your advantage."

France watched as Canada mused over this new information and internally beamed how a eureka-laced smile lit up the soft blonde's features. "I…I think I might have something. Thanks France!"

"It's no trouble at all, mon cher. Papa is always glad to help."

Matthew nodded and then looked back to Prussia and America, his eager mind plotting ways to get them to stop bickering. It didn't take long for something to come to mind, and he perked up.

Maple, I sure hope this works…

{~/~/~}

After a few days and a lot of begging, Canada managed to get America and Prussia to both hang out with him for the day…at the same time (albeit with a lot of complaining).

In fact, they started arguing the moment Matthew tried to drive them to their intended location.

"The Awesome Me calls shotgun!"

"What?! No way! I'm not going to let you sit in the front and give my brother roadhead! You sit in the back while I sit shotgun! I'm the hero so I should sit in the front anyways!"

"You're not a hero, you're a Dummkopf, so you deserve to sit in the back all by yourself…where there's a lot of room for your fat ass. Besides, I wasn't planning to give Matt roadhead…but now that the idea is out there…"

"Eww, no! Bad image! Bad, bad!"

"Ugh, w-why don't you both sit in the back so that neither of you sits shotgun?"

"But Mattie, I'm the hero!"

"But Birdie, I'm awesome!"

"Either both of you sit in the back or I'll just stuff you guys in the trunk."

"…That's just cold, dude."

"You wouldn't dare stuff the Awesome Me in the trunk with your bruder! I could suffocate in there, Birdie! We both know that he would take up all the room!"

So after a lot of complaining and the threat of being beaten with a hockey stick, Prussia and America begrudgingly agreed to sit in the back…where they both proceeded to bother one another.

Canada could not drive fast enough.

However, it was almost worth it to see the looks on the two's faces when they arrived at their destination. A pair of crystal blue and another pair of ruby red orbs simultaneously widened upon the sight of the colorfully lit building before them.

"Laser tag!" they concurrently exclaimed with excitement as the car was parked.

Canada smiled as they all got out. "Yes, I thought it'd be fun if we hung out here for a while."

Soon enough, all three were inside wearing those vests that lit up and were carrying a toy laser.

Looking around the darkened room that was set up to look like a combat arena, America grinned with delight and happily stated, "Dudes, this'll be so much fun! Being the hero and all, I'll be able to shoot down every baddie I see! Mattie! You and I should team up, little bro! You could be my sidekick and have my back and together we'll dominate this game!"

"Nein, Birdie should team up with me since my team is awesome!" Prussia put an arm around his boyfriend's waist and pulled him close. "We'll take down all these losers and then we'll make out in the battlefield!" He waggled his eyebrows as Canada blushed. "Sounds like a great plan, right, Vögelchen?"

"No that's a stupid plan!" America declared as he stepped in-between the couple. "Besides, Canadia doesn't want to be on your team, he wants to be on his super-cool big brother's team! Right, Matt?!"

"U-Uh…"

"Why would Mattie be on your team when he can be on my awesome team?! I'm going to win this thing, after all!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Yuh huh!"

Before this rather immature argument could continue, Canada quickly interjected, "U-Um, actually, I was thinking that we'd all be against each other. Whoever gets shot at the least wins, okay?" Before either of them could protest, Canada used his laser to swiftly shoot both their vests and then scampered off, chuckling as he did.

There, that ought to get them started~

Just as he had hoped, the other two were immediately game and soon they were all trying to fire their lasers at one another (as well as at the various children that were also playing in the laser tag arena). Canada was delighted over how much fun they were having and how America and Prussia actually got along for a while (well, getting along in a way that two guys shooting lasers at each other can).

Unfortunately though, all good things must come to an end.

Matthew wasn't even sure how it happened, but somehow Alfred and Gilbert got too into the game and ended up specifically targeting each other. It was like they were enemies trying to take out one another on the battlefield and the laser tag arena suddenly became a war zone. Even the children that were randomly scurrying about and minding their own business were dragged into this feud to be used as decoys or human shields.

Canada watched with his mouth agape at the scene before him: Prussia had just darted out into the open with a little girl pressed to his front as he tried to find a better spot to hide while America tried to shoot at him.

"Darn it, I missed the dummy albino!" The blonde then grabbed onto a boy that had wandered too close. "Go get 'im for me, kid! Be my back-up!" And to Canada's horror, America actually and quite literally tossed the kid out into the fray (a.k.a. the other end of the room).

Prussia luckily provided a soft landing for the boy.

"Ack! Scheiße, was zum Teufel?!"

"Mommy!"

The loud, rambunctious nations were promptly kicked out of the laser tag arena, much to Canada's embarrassment.

{~/~/~}

Hours later, after a lot of scolding and hockey stick brandishing, Canada felt (more like hoped) that the message got through and decided that it was time to try another tactic. He knew that both America and Prussia loved video games, having spent a lot of time playing with both of them, and figured that maybe the two will bond over that. Announcing that he was going to make them all something to eat, he gave them access to his game system and left them to play.

It took less than an hour for hell to break loose.

"Heeeeeey! Your dude just shot my dude, dude! Not cool! Take that!"

"What the-?! Hey! Why the hell did you kill my guy, Arschloch?! It's not my fault that your stupid ass character got in the way of my awesome character! Your player deserved to die anyways since you epically suck!"

"I do not! I majorly own at this game! You're just so jealous of my kick ass gaming skills that you killed off my character! That's so lame of you!"

"I'm not lame, you're lame!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"AM NOT!"

"You hosers better knock it off or else I'll…I'll kick you both out!"

"But Mattie~!"

"But Birdie~!"

"No buts! Now shut up and come and eat…please!"

"Kesesesesese~ even when you're all cute and pissy you can't help but be polite, can you, Matt~?"

"Politeness is for suckers! That's not how we do it back at my place! The American way is to do what you want and to raise holy hell if someone doesn't let you—Supreme Court style, bitches! We have a right to do that because we have a little thing called freedom and democracy!" America's grin reverted to a pouty scowl when Prussia muttered something that sounded like 'you mean stupidity and whining like little bitches.'

Canada lightly sighed in exasperation. "Just…come and eat. Both of you…a-and let's all get along." He gave them a hopeful gaze to which they both shrugged and gave each other a final dirty look before following him into the kitchen. Matthew couldn't help the smile that planted itself on his face as he waited for Alfred and Gilbert to catch sight of their meals.

Sure enough, he got the reactions he wanted as America and Prussia spotted their food and watched as their jaws went slack in awe. Placed upon the table was a plate of freshly grilled hamburgers, another plate of sizzling, mouth-watering wurst, a basket of fries big enough to share, numerous cans of soda, and copious bottles of beer.

Canada grinned and mentally patted himself on the back as the two other nations let out noises of delight and immediately sat down and grabbed their respective plates.

"Dude, you made hamburgers! Sweet!"

"And you made wurst! Gott Matt, you're so awesome…I mean, not as awesome as me, but still! This comes pretty close!"

The Canadian chuckled as he sat down. His own plate had a hamburger and some wurst, deciding to have the best of both worlds for himself. He hoped that a nice, home-cooked meal would ease the tension a bit. Judging by the elated looks on Gilbert and Alfred's faces, he figured things were off to a good start.

"W-Well, I'm glad it looks okay. I just hope it tastes okay-"

"I'm sure it tastes great, Birdie!" Prussia flashed him a genuine, confident grin.

America was already stuffing a hamburger into his mouth, finishing it in one bite. He attempted to say something, but it was drowned out and muffled by his chewing.

Prussia looked disgusted. "Scheiße, how the hell can you shovel that greasy crap into your mouth like that?! And don't talk with your mouth full! It's so gross and unawesomely unsanitary." He paused and grimaced. "Ah great, now I'm starting to sound like West. The Awesome Me should never sink that low. So fucking lame."

After swallowing the remainder of his burger, America laughed loudly. "Everyone's lame in comparison to this super-cool hero!" He looked down at the wurst and made a face. "Dude, those are the lamest looking hot dogs I've ever seen! Where's the buns and the condiments?! You can't have a good American hot dog without mustard and ketchup and relish and a ton of bacon!"

Prussia narrowed his eyes. "These aren't hot dogs, dipshit, it's wurst. They're so much awesomer than your stupid hot dogs. They're so awesome they don't need shit like condiments. If anything, all that crap will smother the awesomeness of wurst…and bacon will make my awesome, sexy body all gross and fat!"

"Wow, an 'awesome' for almost all the sentences," Canada couldn't help but quietly quip. "That must be a new record for you, Gil." Prussia flashed him a proud grin in response.

America didn't notice, his focus only on the 'hot dogs' he deemed incomplete. Patriotic pride swelled within him as he dramatically stood up, catching the other two's attention. "No! As a true American superstar and idol of the world, I can't just sit back and let this…this…outrage take place, even to someone as lame as you!" At that last part, America gestured over to Prussia who frowned.

Alfred then proceeded to scuttle about the kitchen, looking around and whipping out numerous objects. Matthew and Gilbert shared a confused glance until finally the American dropped the items, which turned out to be an assortment of condiments, and snatched up the Prussian's plate of wurst. Before either of them knew it, America started applying all the dressings and seasonings onto the sausages.

Prussia let out a choked, strangled cry as he watched his beloved wurst being mutilated by ketchup and mustard and mayonnaise and relish and bacon and onions and… holy Fritz, were those pickles?! Canada was in shock and internally winced as he observed his lover practically crumbling at the scene before them.

As usual, America was oblivious to the atmosphere. Within seconds, he finished applying condiments and held up the plate with a huge grin. "See? There you go, dude! Now these are some real hot dogs! This is how we do 'em at my place! Pretty awesome, huh?" Prussia twitched at a particular word the blonde used. "You're welcome! You might be a creepy albino guy who lives in a basement and preys upon innocent Canadians, but even you deserve something this good!"

Gilbert twitched again, his eyes staring at his defaced meal in horror. After a moment though, he snapped out of it, and his expression furrowed into a scowl. "This isn't good, this is wrong! So. Very. Wrong! You've ruined my wurst, Dummkopf!"

"Ruined? Dude, I made it better!"

"You did not! You can't just pull that shit! How would you like it if I ruined your precious hamburgers?!" And with that, Prussia grabbed a burger and flung it onto the ground like how an athlete would do to a football. Kumajirou immediately scurried out of nowhere and gobbled up the discarded beef.

Yet to America, Prussia might as well have flipped off the Pope. "What the hell, man?! You wasted a perfectly good burger! All I was trying to do was make your food awesome!" Prussia twitched again. "You know what, two can play at this game!" He then flipped over the albino's plate of wurst, causing the sausages to spill all over the table and floor.

A glint entered Gilbert's orbs and a similar one shown within Alfred's. Before Canada knew it, an explosive food fight had erupted. Wurst, burgers, fries, leftover condiments, beer, soda, and other random foods were flung about the kitchen, striking anyone within range.

Matthew squeaked as he was pelted by some ketchup and immediately dove to the floor for cover. Alfred squirted some mustard at Gilbert, who retaliated by chucking a burger at him. Both seemed intent on hitting the other, not seeming to notice the horrified Canadian watching his food being wasted and his kitchen being ruined. Kumajirou didn't seem to mind the food fight and excitedly scurried around, licking up anything edible off the floor.

Canada gaped at the culinary warfare occurring before him before snapping himself out of his stunned reverie, scowling with disapproval and exasperation. He irritably sighed and flinched away from a piece of wurst that splattered near him. "Well, it looks like this was an absolute waste of time. I'm making these hosers clean this kitchen once they get this out of their systems." The blonde reluctantly resigned himself to the fact that there was nothing he could do to stop this fight, seeing that he will most likely be ignored and inadvertently pelted with something.

He grimaced disdainfully at the ketchup stain decorating his green hoodie. "I think I'll also make them do my laundry while they're at it."

As the Canadian was huffing in annoyance, he distinctly heard the sound of his home phone ringing. Somewhat grateful for the distraction, Matthew sighed once more and muttered, "I'll get it." Then he crawled out of his kitchen on his elbows and knees, army-style.

Once he was safe and out of range from any projectile foods, Canada stood up, brushed himself off, and went over to his chattering phone. He then picked it up, held it to his ear, and answered, "H-Hello, r-residence of Matthew Williams."

"Bonjour mon Canada~! It is moi~"

Matthew relaxed a bit at the familiar voice. "Oh bonjour, France. How are you?"

"I am quite excellent today, thank you for asking. And what about you?"

Canada sighed a bit. "I-I could be better, I suppose." Then something occurred to him that made him blink. "W-Wait, why are you calling here? I-I mean…don't think I'm being rude or anything, b-but I'm better reachable on my cell phone. You have my number, right?"

A bemused chuckle sounded from the other end of the line. "Oui, I do, and I actually did try it earlier. You didn't respond so I tried here instead."

Slightly furrowing his brow, Canada felt around his pockets for his cell phone until he remembered that he left it in his room. Though France wasn't in the vicinity, the soft-spoken nation blushed with embarrassment. "O-Oh I-I'm sorry. I-It's in the other r-room."

Another chuckle was heard. "Relax Matthieu, there's no need to be sorry. I just figured that you and Prussia might've been busy, ohonhon~" He could practically hear the Frenchman's suggestive smirk and he blushed further.

"N-N-No! N-Nothing l-like that…"

"Oh mon cher, there's no need to be so shy. You can tell me. After all, I'm the one who properly explained the birds and the bees to you~" He then muttered something under his breath about England being a horrible teacher.

"S-SO!" Matthew began rather hurriedly, hoping to switch topics, "W-What's the occasion for, um, calling me?"

"Hm? Oh right! It actually has to do a bit with Prussia. I just wanted to ask if he and America are getting better acquainted. Any luck?"

Canada sighed. "Unfortunately, no. I've been trying to get them to bond all day, but all my ideas have blown up in my face. In fact, they're having a food fight in my kitchen right now." France made a noise that sounded like an odd mixture of shocked, appalled, and sympathetic. "Maybe I shouldn't even bother anymore; it's like they're set on not liking each other. It's hopeless."

"Do not lose hope, mon cher. I'm sure you'll think of something~"

"I hope so. At this rate I'm going to completely lose patience with both of them."

"I'm actually a bit surprised that you've lasted this long."

"What can I say? I'm Canadian—we're known for our patience. Jeez, I'm basically a walking stereotype."

"Aren't we all, Matthieu~?" France quipped, sounding amused.

Canada softly chuckled. "I guess so when it comes to us nations." He flinched when he heard something loudly crash in his kitchen.

"What on earth was that?" Apparently France could hear it from his end.

"I don't really know. My guess is that it was one of my plates. I have no idea who threw it though."

"Are you alright?" There was a bit of fatherly concern in Francis's tone.

"Yes, I'm alright. I'm not in the kitchen right now." Matthew blew out some air, lightly shifting his fringe. "I guess you can tell by that just how much of a disaster this day is turning out to be."

"Oh tut, there's no need to be so melancholy, Canada. You forget that America and Prussia are two of the most stubborn, egotistical people in existence; you can't just expect them to get along so soon. They'll need a bit of time."

"But by then they might destroy each other…or drive me crazy."

France emitted a breathy chuckle. "Like I said, don't give up. Between me and Angleterre, you surely must've inherited our cleverness. I'm certain if anyone can get them to get along, it'll be you~ Why, I wouldn't be surprised if they come to Saturday's meeting arm-in-arm as good friends."

Despite his own skepticism, Canada couldn't help but smile, happy that at least one of them had faith in him. "You know what, I think you're right. I'll just have to keep trying. Hopefully, I can think of something."

"I know you will, Matthieu~"

"Thanks France, I-" Something else crashed in the kitchen, sounding louder and even bigger than the previous one. "O-Oh maple…I-I've got to go. Th-Thanks again, I'll talk to you later. B-Bye!" He didn't wait for the Frenchman's answer as he quickly dashed into the kitchen, setting down the phone yet not on its holder, allowing France to hear:

"WHAT DID YOU HOSERS DO TO MY KITCHEN?! HOW DID THE WURST EVEN GET STUCK TO THE WALL…AND HOW DID BACON GET UP ON THE CEILING, EH?!"

{~/~/~}

After whisper-yelling at Prussia and America for a while—complete with making them clean his kitchen spotless and replacing everything that had been broken—Canada spent the next few days setting some alternative plots into action.

Unfortunately, they all (horribly) failed.

For instance, when Matthew took Alfred and Gilbert to see an action-packed movie that they were both interested in, the two ended up pelting popcorn at each other. The result was all three of them being covered with salt and butter and getting kicked out of the theatres.

When Canada took them out for ice cream, America and Prussia ended up having an unnecessarily competitive 'who can eat their ice cream faster?' contest. However, he didn't think that scolding them was necessary this time, feeling that the resulting brain freezes that had them moaning and groaning for several minutes was sufficient punishment.

In a moment of weakness, Matthew even (reluctantly) suggested that they plan a prank on Russia, seeing as how both nations dislike the taller man. However, even that recommendation fell through when the American and Prussian couldn't decide on the perfect way to 'humiliate the freaky commie bastard.'

Soon, Saturday was upon them and Canada was currently irritably roaming through the Conference building's hallways, heading for the meeting that had yet to take place. Unlike the last time, neither Prussia nor America was with him. He had gotten so (passive-aggressively) frustrated that he decided to ditch them both and leave them to their own devices.

He was actually quietly still steaming a bit about it now, frustrated by the circumstances. Why can't those two just get along?! It shouldn't be that hard since the two are so alike! Obnoxious hosers.

"Oi! There you are, America!" Canada was startled out of his exasperation and whipped his head over to that angry, familiar voice, seeing Cuba storm his way. His stomach flipped fearfully as he recognized that expression of sheer fury in the other's brown eyes.

Oh maple. What did Al do now?

Before he could muse over it, Canada suddenly found himself being grabbed and slammed into the nearby wall, rattling some of the picture frames hung up close by. He bit back a cry as pain jolted down his back and onto the back of his head, registering the rough grip on his arms and how his feet were dangling centimeters from the floor. "C-Cuba-"

"I finally found you, jackass! Thought you could get away from me, ey?!"

Despite that incidents such as this were common, they never failed to terrify Canada. He quivered under the other nation's hold. "C-Cuba, p-please! I'm n-not America, I'm Canada!"

The Cuban angrily rolled his eyes. "Don't you be lying to me, burger breath! I know it's you—I recognize that idiot mug of yours anywhere!"

Um, no you don't, you never do… Matthew took in a shuddering breath and squirmed to get free before he got hit. "I-I'm sorry for whatever America did, b-but you've g-got the wrong guy! I'm Cana-" He cut himself off with a pained yelp when Carlos furiously rammed him into the wall.

"Stop lying to me, man! You're just pissing me off! Now you're gonna pay!" And with that, the Cuban reared his fist back, intending to strike the blonde. Canada gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, mentally preparing himself for the blow.

However, there was no need as he suddenly felt Cuba release him, as if the other were being ripped away, and he was soon being embraced by a pair of strong arms. His eyes fluttered open in shock, and he glanced up to see that Prussia was the one holding him. His lover was clutching him protectively, his chili pepper red orbs ablaze with fury as they gazed over at something by the adjacent wall.

Canada followed his line of sight and inaudibly gasped; America was towering over a fallen, dazed Cuba, his hands balled into fists while the other was rubbing his head. Though he couldn't fully see his brother's expression, Canada caught a glimpse of an uncharacteristic, infuriated scowl marring the American's face.

In that moment, Matthew concluded that Alfred had yanked Cuba away from him while Gilbert had caught him.

He watched breathlessly as America glared down at the Cuban. "What the hell do you think you're doing, douchewad?! Back off of Mattie!"

"Ja," Prussia lividly spat, tightening his grip on his boyfriend, "lay off of Birdie or the Awesome Me will kick your ass!"

"And I'll help! You can't leave the hero out of this! No one hurts my little brother!" Gilbert let out a growl in agreement.

"What the hell-?" Cuba rubbed his head some more before irritably looking up. His eyes clouded in confusion when they noticed America yet widened once they caught sight of both Prussia and Canada. The realization of his mistake clicked and he immediately looked sheepish. "Ah damn, not again…"

"Again?!" America and Prussia exclaimed simultaneously as they looked to Canada in shock, who could only weakly shrug in response. The two then returned their glowers back onto Cuba who actually looked somewhat intimidated, his anger quelled.

"U-Uh…" Carlos awkwardly cleared his throat as he turned to Matthew. "Damn, I'm sorry about that, Canada. I, uh, could've sworn you were America…"

"Tha-That's okay," the soft-spoken blonde breathed out, still caught off guard by the entire occurrence. "I'll…eventually get over it. Please just be more aware next time…"

"You better be," Gilbert threw in. "Matt and America look nothing alike so you better get that straight! You may be all right in my book, but if I catch you hurting Birdie again then I'll have to do something unawesome like rip out your dreadlocks."

"And that goes the same for me, dude." America added, seeming to calm down yet folding his arms over his chest as if to appear that he meant business.

Cuba gulped and nervously got to his feet. "Yeah, I getcha." He apologetically glanced over at Canada. "Again, I'm, uh, real sorry about going after you like that, Matt. I'll make it up to you somehow. Maybe later we can get ice cream."

"O-Okay, sure. That sounds good." Matthew lightly smiled at Carlos, showing him that there were no hard feelings.

Cuba nodded and then glanced between America and Prussia. "I guess I should say sorry to you guys too…"

America merely shrugged. "Just don't do it again or you'll be sorry!"

Prussia nodded and firmly stated, "Ja, now scram!" Cuba inclined his head and walked off, leaving the remaining three alone. Gilbert loosened his grip while Alfred relaxed his posture, both easing up a bit. Canada squirmed a bit in his lover's grip, feeling somewhat uncertain.

Feeling him move, Prussia turned his attention on him, his eyes alight with concern. "You okay, Birdie?" He adjusted his hold so that it was less protective and more intimate, pulling back slightly so that he could examine the younger blonde. "You're not hurt, are you?" His eyes darkened at the thought as they swept over the other's lithe form.

Canada shook his head. "No, I'm not hurt. I'm fine." He gave him a small smile of reassurance.

Prussia looked deeply into the twilight-shaded orbs of his liebe before he gently smiled back, finding the Canadian's expression to be genuine. "Gut. Good drinking buddy or not, if Cuba would've hurt you then I wouldn't have let that slide." The albino emitted a relieved sigh as he tilted the Canadian's chin up. "But you're okay and that's all that matters." He then softly pressed a kiss to his lover's brow, getting him to blush.

America watched the exchange with surprise and interest, his wonder-filled eyes absorbing a gentle Prussia (total Invasion of the Body Snatchers moment!) showing concern over his flustered Canadian brother. He had never seen the albino act as anything but rude, unruly, arrogant, and a downright hooligan, so this was undoubtedly a strange image for him. Regardless, it was nice seeing Prussia express such care for Canada as well as to witness the fondness and adoration shared between the two.

Without realizing it, America found himself smiling too.

As if remembering the other blonde was there, Prussia immediately wiped his off his soft expression and replaced it with his usual cocky grin. "So ja, everything is awesome! Cuba wasn't a big a dick as I thought, so I guess the Awesome Me doesn't have to go all 'bad ass boyfriend' on him."

America cheerfully chuckled and stated, "Yeah, and it looks like I won't have to be an ass-whupping older brother for now." Then he glanced at his brother, worry prevalent in his eyes despite the bright smile on his face. "You sure you're alright, Matt? If you want, I can go track down Cuba and kick his ass…American Hero style, bitches!"

Canada fondly rolled his eyes. "There's no need for that, Al. I'm fine." He then gently pulled away from Prussia and looked between the two nations. "Seriously guys, there's no need to fuss over me. Cuba didn't hurt me."

That managed to get the other two nations to completely ease up, fully relieved. America grinned and said, "Well alright if you say so~ But if he or anyone else screws around with you, you just let me know and I'll take care of it!" He then gave Canada a thumb's up.

Prussia nodded in agreement, gazing at America with hidden appreciation. "Ja, and if he can't, then I will. Between the two of us, no one can ever hurt you, Birdie~"

"Yeah, definitely!" America exclaimed, growing excited. "Prussia and I can totally take on anyone who's a total d-bag to you! We'll be like your bodyguards!"

The ex-nation immediately became enthusiastic, taking an immense liking to the idea. "Hell yeah, that sounds so epic! We'll kick the asses of all the mother fuckers who bother Birdie with our awesome strength and bad ass skills!" America beamed at the thought and then flexed, getting Prussia to do the same.

However, unlike the two of them, Canada wasn't too keen on either of them hovering over him like guard dogs. "U-Uh, guys, that won't be, err, necessary. I can take care of myself. I don't need to be protected."

Both America and Prussia gave him a look and simultaneously exclaimed, "Are you kidding me?! Yeah you do!" Then they began animatedly chatting with one another, exchanging ideas on how to protect Canada and how to kick any "evildoer's" ass.

"So dude, here's what I was thinking. We should get some sweet ass spy gear to keep an eye on Canada from afar. We'll be like James Bond, only better!"

"Not a bad idea, Kumpel. We'll make sure to get epic gear like binoculars and Tasers…oh~ we should get some poison dart guns! Just in case!"

"Awesome idea, man! That's totally bad ass!"

"Well, I am known for being undeniably awesome~"

Matthew could only watch as the two eagerly discussed being his bodyguards, his protests ignored. After a while, he just gave up and sighed. Oh great, it looks like I'm going to have these two following me around. That's going to be annoying. He huffed out a breath in irritation and pouted while his boyfriend and brother continued babbling like a couple of girls talking about what they were going to wear to the prom.

Then his eyes widened as it hit him: Gilbert and Alfred were having a civil conversation and weren't fighting. In fact, to a random bystander, the two looked as if they were good friends with the amiable way they talked to and grinned at one another.

As the realization sunk in, Canada emitted a slightly breathless, bemused laugh of disbelief. Oh wow, they're actually getting along. I wonder how long it will last.

Regardless, even if this moment only lasted a few more minutes, the soft-spoken blonde was grateful that two of the most important guys in his life were seeing eye-to-eye even for a little while.

This was reiterated when America suddenly said, "Dude! We'll make the best bodyguards ever! With your awesomeness and my heroic coolness, nothing can stop us!"

"Damn straight!" Prussia exclaimed excitedly. "Our combined badassery will make us an unstoppable force! No Arschloch will even look at Birdie weird without crumbling under our awesome might!"

"Totally, man!" Alfred grinned at the albino. "You know what Prussia, maybe you're not so bad after all. When you're not perving on my brother, you're actually pretty cool."

Gilbert beamed with elation, seeming pleased with the compliment. "Pretty cool? America, I'm mega awesome! But hey, you're alright too…you know, when you're not being a cockblock."

America apparently found that funny and promptly laughed. "I'm the kick ass, super cool big brother so I gotta be the hero and protect Mattie's virtue and vital regions!" Then the blonde's smile softened ever so slightly. "But as long you're respecting Mattie and making him happy, then we're good." And with that, the American gave him a thumb's up, which the Prussian returned with a playful salute.

"Same to you, brohas."

The invisible nation watched this all with awe as a delighted smile touched upon his face. Huh, maybe…maybe they just might get along after all. Maybe they can finally stop fighting. It won't be easy given how stubborn these two are…but this is a good start. I have a good feeling about this~

Canada's hopeful, blissful musings were interrupted by his Prussian boyfriend saying, "Now, what was that about Cuba hurting you again, Matt?"

"Yeah, what was that all about? Don't tell me that douchenozzle has been picking on you this whole time and you didn't even bother telling us."

Matthew stiffened slightly as Alfred and Gilbert folded their arms over their chests, both giving him similar expectant expressions.

Oh maple leaf…

{~/~/~}

France considered himself to be many things: gorgeous, sexy, sophisticated, charming, alluring, intelligent, fashionable, an excellent cook, a magnificent lover, and an overall extraordinary person to be around. Above all though, he considered himself to be a genius.

Like all the other nations, France witnessed an interesting sight during the meeting: Prussia and America were sitting on each side of Canada and were practically chasing away anyone who got too close to the soft-spoken blonde. They actually managed to intimidate a few people, Switzerland included (France has never seen the neutral country unnerved before), and kept throwing vicious glares at Cuba especially. However, while the other nations were confused by their behavior, France was absolutely ecstatic.

His plan had worked.

Throughout the entire meeting, the Frenchman was widely grinning with glee and nothing, not even Britain being his usual stubborn self could faze him. How could anything ruin his mood when he had single-handedly got Prussia and America to work out their differences?

Well, single-handedly might not be the right word, but it might as well be. After all, he was the one who pointed an irate Cuba in the direction of 'America' whom he was upset with for some reason or another, knowing fully well that he would run into Canada and mistake him for his boisterous brother. Then all it took was for France to inform the real America about the new (but completely nonexistent) cotton candy making machine out in the hallway and Prussia about the (again, completely nonexistent) mini-bar that had just opened up somewhere in the halls for things to really take off. There was nothing else he could do other than wait and hope that luck was on his side.

(Though it ought to be considering that this plan was in the name of amour…in some way or another.)

Luckily for him though, his plan worked after all, if Prussia and America's behavior was anything to go by.

Again, he is such a genius.

France couldn't help the self-satisfied grin that took permanent residence on his face throughout the rest of that meeting, one that England called him out on ("What the bloody hell is with that face, frog?!"). The Frenchman threw a haughty retort at him, the Brit angrily retaliated, insults were exchanged, and it only took a few seconds for an altercation to break out.

However, it did nothing to ruin France's mood. What made the day better though was that Canada was kind enough to check up on him during their break (France was a bit surprised that he managed to slip away from Prussia and America). Currently the two were in the men's restroom, trying to fix the older nation's ruffled appearance (France nearly threw a fit at the sight of his wrinkled clothes and tousled hair). While they were smoothing down Francis's locks, they talked about Alfred and Gilbert possibly getting along from now on, considering how familiar they were acting towards one another. It took a lot for France to hold back much of his self-congratulatory smile as they discussed this.

At some point though, Canada momentarily went silent, seeming to deeply contemplate something. France was quick to notice this, but didn't say anything, waiting for Matthieu to speak on his own accord.

Eventually, he did. "I…I don't know how you managed to do it, but thank you."

Out of all the things Canada could've possibly said, that wasn't something that France expected and it made no sense. "Thank you for what?"

Matthew cleared his throat before looking at him square in the eye. "I-I know it was you. I don't know how you did it, but you somehow had it set up for America and Prussia to catch Cuba hassling me. Needless to say, it worked and it managed to bring the two together. So, um, yeah." He then softly yet genuinely smiled at him.

…Mon dieu. He figured it out.

Francis considered denying it, feigning ignorance about it, yet couldn't bring himself to lie to Matthieu of all people. So instead, he smiled back and said, "You're welcome, mon cher." He paused and inquired, "How did you know?"

"Well, I thought it was just too perfect of a situation for Cuba to just happen to go after me and for America and Prussia to just happen to catch him. I tried to talk to them about it, but they were too busy playing 'bodyguard' to answer my questions. So I talked to Cuba and he told me that you had told him where 'America' was. Then it just sort of clicked." Though he nonchalantly shrugged, his lilac orbs were searching the other's sapphire ones for answers.

Despite that France was somewhat stunned, he couldn't help the proud smile that graced his lips. "Very clever, Matthieu, you must've inherited your sharpness from me~"

Canada lightly chuckled. "For all I know I probably did, but I think England might disagree with that." He chuckled again when France overdramatically gasped and clutched at his heart, pouting. "But…there's just one thing I can't figure out; why did you do it? Why did you set that whole thing up?"

The younger nation seemed so confused that France found the expression endearing. "Because I wanted to help you, Matthieu. You seemed so stressed out and miserable these past few days with your brother and Gilbert going for each other's throats that I just had to do something. After a bit of thinking, I realized that the most crucial thing America and Prussia have in common was their respective love for you, how they'd do anything to keep you safe and happy…even if they both have trouble expressing it." He chuckled at how caught off guard Canada appeared. "So I figured that I could use that to my advantage and then this plan was spontaneously born. Now I wasn't entirely sure if this plan was going to work since most of it was based off of luck, but I knew I had to at least try. Besides, if this didn't work, I had other schemes in mind I could've tested out. It looks like that won't be necessary though…at least for now."

Canada was in awe as he looked to France with astonishment and reverence. After a while, a grateful grin blossomed upon his gentle face. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know, but I wanted to."

Then Canada did something unexpected: he embraced his former caretaker in a hug.

Even though France was momentarily stunned, he heartily returned the hug, feeling a familial type of warmth expand in his chest that shown in his smile. After remaining like this for a little while, Matthew pulled back a bit and smiled up at Francis. "Merci, Papa~ Your plan seems to have worked wonders. I just hope this new thing with Gil and Alfred isn't temporary."

Suddenly France's smile vanished, and he appeared somewhat startled. Did he just call me 'Papa'?

He blinked a few times and once the shock wore off, his smile returned even brighter than before. As his eyes glistened with tears, he pulled Canada in for another hug. Matthieu was a bit surprised by the sudden gesture yet accepted and returned it, seeming not to notice that he called Francis 'Papa.' The Frenchman wasn't about to point it out to him though.

He decided that it was probably best that he'd keep that to himself lest Canada might get flustered and too embarrassed to ever call him that again.

I'm just glad that he finally called me that, even if it was only this one time. Perhaps this means that maybe Matthieu considers me a father figure deep down without him realizing it yet. If that is the case, then I'll just have to keep giving him a reason to look up to me and see me as his papa.

Just as France was finalizing his resolve, his and Canada's moment was ruined by loud voices coming from the hallway.

"Scheiße! Is he around here?!"

"I dunno, dude. Mattie…MATTIE?!"

"Birdie! Where are you?! Your awesome, sexy boyfriend is looking for you!"

France and Canada flinched when the restroom door slammed open, revealing America and Prussia. They appeared somewhat frantic as their eyes darted around the room and then locked onto the two other nations. They took in how the two were still embracing (and essentially were pressed against one another), and their eyes went from shocked to outraged.

"Pervert alert!"

"Get your hands off mein Vögelchen, France!"

"A-Al? Gil?"

"Bonjour? What are you two doing here?"

"Don't worry, Mattie! We'll save you from the pervert!"

"E-Eh?"

"Q-Q-Quoi?!"

"Let's take him down, Prussia! Hero style!"

"Right behind you, Kumpel!"

"Mon Dieu! This isn't what it looks like! I'm not corrupting dear Matthieu! S'il vous plait, I-"

France's pleas were cut off with a yelp when America and Prussia simultaneously tackled him down, babbling something about protecting Canada from perverts.

It took a long time for Canada to pry his hysterical boyfriend and brother off of his distraught father figure and even longer for him to convince them that nothing bad had happened to him. By then though, the damage had been done: France's clothes and hair were ruined beyond fixing and Canada's throat hurt from passive-aggressively yelling so much.

By the end of the day, they were both thinking that Prussia and America's newfound association was going to be impossible to get used to.

On the other hand, Gilbert and Alfred concurrently came to the conclusion that they were the best bodyguards ever and that they could get used to this new budding friendship.

(But if anyone were to ask, they would simply refer to it as a partnership.)

The End

"Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into friend." Martin Luther King Jr.

I always imagined that when America argued, it'd be more like whining rather than actual annoyance X)

Anyways, thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Have an amazing day and show your Canadian spirit! Happy Canada Day! :D