Like Mr. Darcy, Only A Lot Less Smooth (And, Let's Face It, Mr. Darcy Wasn't Smooth To Begin With)

I think story titles tell a fair bit about an author as well as story. So fair warning, I like my run on sentences a lot and parentheses are the life blood of my stories.

Written at school in a sudden, tea-driven burst of inspiration. I'll warn you in advance that I use British slang in my stories like I spread butter on my toast. Liberally. Sorry to any British readers even though you're a rarity on anyway. (I'll try my damndest to tone it down)

Pairings: Eventual, mark my words it will happen, UKCan

Warnings: Language, Slash (is this honestly a warning in this fandom?)

Disclaimer: Hetalia, Pride and Prejudice, Starbucks, The Notebook and Ulysse Nardin and anything else you recognize belong to their respective owners. I own nothing but the shit storyline.

Oh, and just in case you get any ideas, no this is not a P&P/Hetalia cross over. And nope, you don't need to have read that book (since Arthur is awkward even without Mr. Darcy for comparison). Though I still recommend it because... Mr. Darcy.

The Ulysse Nardin Preparatory Academy (UN for short) located in Switzerland was where the who's who of the world sent their children for their education. It was the world's most prestigious academy, and if your child wasn't attending then you probably weren't worth knowing. After all, elitism is an attitude that surpasses national borders and language barriers. The elite loved to mingle with the elite, so it only made sense that they would made a school where their children could mingle with other upper-class children. As a result, there was a very rich mix of cultures in the school with at least one student from nearly every country in the world. They were the sons and daughters of the crème de la crème - they would be the future leaders of the world; they would hold the highest government positions and inherit the largest multinational companies.

But for the moment they were all struggling with a rather unfortunate thing called hormones, a dreadful amount of homework and pain-in-the-ass instructors.

At the very top of these elite children was the student council. They were the brightest, the richest and the ones who came from the best families... And this included Alfred Jones, for some reason, even though he didn't fit into any of those categories (well, in Arthur's humble opinion anyway). They were easily identifiable by the gold badges pinned to the navy blazers of their uniforms.

At the very top was the President, Arthur Kirkland who was the youngest son of a very old noble family in England (the line was so old they had probably rubbed shoulders with nearly all the kings and queens at some point). Nowadays, the family was mostly involved in government work or law. He ruled the academy in typical English fashion – with an iron fist.

Next in line was that philandering ponce, Francis Bonnefoy, the vice president. He probably slept with someone to get his position... And probably to be allowed to attend he academy at all. Arthur had heard rumours that the frog had already been kicked out of nearly all the exclusive schools in Europe for depraved acts that would make even the most vulgar sailor's toes curl but he'd rather not repeat such things

Next was the treasurer, Ludwig Beilschmidt, heir to a major German auto manufacturer. Well, technically Gilbert, his older brother was the heir, but it was an accepted truth that there was no way in hell their parents would trust Gilbert with a multinational auto company. Ludwig kept track of the student council's (ridiculously large) budget. He also tended to run meetings since Arthur would occasionally get distracted by the urge to throttle Francis/Alfred/both into the ground. That boy was a godsend.

Next was the External Affairs Officer, Alfred. The position hadn't existed until he had run for it - probably made it up, the idiot. He insisted they had them in America for building relations with other schools, arranging tours for incoming students and a load of other bullshit Arthur didn't care to remember (his theory was that what the External Affairs Officer really did in America was arrange weekly visits to McDonalds). Unfortunately, the student body and the principal bought Alfred's smooth talk and so the position was formally added to the Student Council. Arthur wasn't quite sure what work to assign an External Affairs Officer so Alfred usually got the work no one else wanted to do.

Aside from the five main positions, there were also class and year representatives who showed up to monthly meetings. However, it was clear who ran the school. The five were treated as school idols. They were given wide berth in the hallways, slept in a separate wing of the dormitories, attended private classes and-

Hang on a sec, five?

Arthur did a mental head count in the student council office. The room was larger and more finely furnished than most teacher's lounges in normal high schools. Their office was set up with four mahogany desks lined up in pairs on opposite sides of the walls. The two on the right were for the senior members, Francis and Ludwig. The two on the left were for the junior members, Alfred and… someone. Then, at the head of the room was Arthur's desk, directly in line with the double-doors that led into the office. There were even several plush couches lining the length of the room. They were meant for students that needed an audience with one of the members for one reason or another, but mostly they were used by lounging friends.

Anyway, Arthur could count five desks no problem but he could only see 4 blond heads (it was a bit of an unfortunate coincidence that they were all blond and it had sparked all sorts of corny nicknames like the Golden Five). More than once, Arthur had tried to force Francis into dying his hair brown in order to get rid of that blasted nickname.

More importantly, where and who the hell was their fifth member?

In the desk to his immediate right was Ludwig, studiously making financial statements (complete with a balance sheet, income statement and even following IFRS rules though they only really needed a journal recording transactions and the occasional budget report) despite Feliciano's valiant efforts to distract him with pasta. The Italian visited during lunch break and any study hall periods he had. Frankly, Arthur didn't know whether to call Feliciano one of Ludwig`s friends or a stalker, but as long as it didn't affect student council work he really didn't care.

Arthur spared an approving nod in Ludwig's direction before letting his eyes drift to the person occupying the desk next to the German. Immediately he scowled. Of course Francis would have his usual crowd of screeching harpies surrounding his desk as he lounged and did absolutely no work at all. Arthur quickly looked to the pair of desks on the opposite side of the room as he felt his blood pressure spike.

Alfred was sitting in his mess of a desk, eating a burger while his eyes were trained on his laptop screen. There was a steadily growing pile of discarded burger wrappers strewn across the surface and the near-by floor. Alfred's desk was an eyesore in an otherwise tidy office. Arthur severely doubted that he was doing his work judging from the glazed look in his eyes (in fact, he couldn't remember if he'd ever assigned work to Alfred at all). But that still left one desk and one member unaccounted for.

The last desk was empty. A laptop was resting on the surface, and he could see piles of papers neatly stacked together on one end. There were also personal touches on the table like a plush polar bear, so someone was definitely using the desk. The only problem was who?

"Hey, Mattie, check this out!" Alfred called out through a mouthful of burger his eyes not straying from his computer screen.

Arthur stared in steadily rising horror as Alfred seemingly conversed with thin air. He was gesturing wildly at whatever website he stumbled upon and looking to his left where `Mattie' was presumably standing. There was a brief pause before he broke out in warm laughter as if the air suddenly whispered a hilarious comment to him.

Good lord - on top of a hero-complex, uncontrollable eating habits and being louder than a freight train, Alfred also had imaginary friends? What the hell did they even keep him around for?

Arthur marched up to Alfred's desk, ready to recommend the git a good psychiatrist when he noticed another boy leaning next to Alfred for a better view of the laptop. The boy had blond hair and glasses and looked vaguely familiar (though that could have been due to the fact that he looked strikingly like Alfred). He halted mid-step, half wondering if he was going insane as well for seeing the mysterious 'Mattie' or if maybe this boy was a fairy of some sort and maybe Alfred wasn't so crazy after all since seeing fairies was definitely not insane-

"Problem, Arthur?" Alfred asked, finally noticing the student council president standing awkwardly in the middle of the office.

Everyone's attention was immediately fixed on him, including Alfred's maybe-not-so imaginary friend who finally tore his eyes from the laptop screen to stare at Arthur. It was when violet eyes met green that he finally remembered and just barely refrained from slapping himself on the forehead.

Of course - Matthew Williams.

Really, how could he forget? The boy had been plaguing his thoughts for a good month now.

Matthew Williams, a Canadian from a family of some sort of technology parts manufacturer, was the secretary of the student council. He wrote neat and diligent notes on meetings for the rest of the members, sent out the student council bulletins every month, and very nearly planned and executed all student council assemblies and events singlehandedly. The boy did excellent work and that was probably the extent of Arthur's knowledge of him.

By all rights, Matthew should have been the most important and well-known student council member. However, the boy had a rather unfortunate habit of fading off into the background. The fact that he was always standing next to Alfred Jones, resident vacuum for attention and hamburgers, during official functions certainly didn't help matters.

"I am really, really terribly sorry for forgetting about you," Again, Arthur added mentally.

"It's no problem. I'm used to it," Matthew replied brightly.

Arthur flinched at the unintentional jab hidden in the statement. If it were any other person he would have immediately taken it as an insult, but knowing Matthew and his seemingly endless patience, he probably meant it.

"Oh, and if it's not too much to ask-" Arthur began hurriedly, not wanting to miss his chance in case Matthew disappeared again.

"Typical Englishman," he heard Francis sneer from somewhere inside the crowd of girls. "He only just remembered Matthew's existence and already he's asking for favours."

"Yeah, probably didn't get the memo that imperialism is dead and he can't boss the world around anymore," Alfred added, always quick to agree to any jibes against Arthur. And honestly, when did the Student Council become an "I hate the Empire" club anyway?

Well, it was probably shortly after a German, American and Frenchman managed to make it onto council (though Ludwig was admittedly civil as long as Arthur was too). Even Arthur couldn't deny that the British had made many enemies during their years as an empire. He opened his mouth to make a pleasant retort about how the British whooped their country's respective asses (complete with the specific battles to prove it) when he was interrupted by a soft voice.

"Of course I wouldn't mind staying after school to help you with student council work, Arthur," Matthew replied to his unspoken question with a small smile.

Which Arthur answered in full with a bright smile of his own. Yes, an Englishman would have a long history of rivalry with the French, he'll share monarchs with the Germans, he'll try to (and fail) to contain the American spirit but he would always be able to find an ally in a Canadian. Unless we were talking about the Suez Canal because that was doomed to failure the second they allied with the French.

"My poor, dear, sweet cousin," Francis simpered, hanging off of Matthew. "Having to remain in that monster's company even past student council hours. You have the patience of a saint."

Matthew only laughed awkwardly and tried to dislodge Francis from his shoulders. "I don't mind, really-"

"This has been going on for months! He is bullying you, Matthew! He only ever asks you to stay behind and help him!"

"Really, Francis, it's only because Al has football practice, Ludwig's running a physics club and you're-" Here Matthew struggled for a polite word to describe Francis' escapades, "-busy," He finished lamely when no such word presented itself.

"Matthew, you must speak up if he is abusing his power," Francis insisted sternly. "I will... Er, your brother will beat him up for you if you would just say the word."

"Maybe if you did more work during hours we wouldn't have to stay behind all the bleeding time and do it for you," Arthur cut in snidely. He smirked when he saw Francis bristle at the comment and completely taking the bait.

"I will not stand here and be criticized by someone who hasn't learned to embrace the wonderful invention that is tweezers," Francis replied airily, smirking when he heard an outraged splutter. "Now, the fine girls of this academy simply won't entertain themselves so goodbye and adieu."

And like that, he was gone in a whirlwind of haughtiness and French couture. As soon as the oak double doors shut behind him, Arthur and Matthew exchanged an awkward smile before returning to their desks and starting on their work.

Honestly, the work pile was nothing Arthur couldn't handle on his own. In fact, he normally wouldn't even ask for help but, you see, he had a plan.

At first, his goal had simply been to get to know the other better. Contrary to popular belief, he was (somewhat) aware that he kept on forgetting one of his members. That just wouldn't do because then the others would start complaining that he was assigning them more work because he kept forgetting to give any to Matthew.

And so, whenever he remembered, or if he accidentally bumped into Matthew on the way out of the office, he would ask the younger student to stay behind and help with some work. He figured if he spent some time alone with Matthew, without Alfred and Francis distracting him, he'd be able to remember him more easily.

He was met with very limited success, as demonstrated by this afternoon's fiasco. But at least now he remembered he had five members to delegate work to which at least stopped Francis from complaining.

However, whenever Arthur did remember Matthew and sought him out, he found his company to be very pleasant. As soon as the environment quieted down enough for his soft voice to be heard (read: contained a little less Alfred and Francis) he was, surprisingly, quite talkative.

While working through the papers in front of them, the two would keep a steady stream of conversation. It was usually just about anything that happened to come to mind, whether it was complaining about classes or sports.

(The day before had been a lively discussion on the fairness of quickscoping in Call of Duty).

Arthur, frankly, didn't understand how he could keep forgetting this pleasant boy. Under any other circumstances he would have thought they would be best friends. They shared many of the same tastes and could agree to disagree quite readily on the few opinions they didn't share. Maybe he instinctively sought conflict as with Alfred and Francis or maybe it was just a regrettable inherent trait of Matthew's. He honestly couldn't figure it out, so instead he focused on trying to remember Matthew.

"...And so I decided to give the coffee in Starbucks a shot since they - sadly, regrettably, cruelly - don't have any Timmies here and, oh my god, I may as well have walked down a shady alley and gotten robbed because at least thieves are upfront about what they're doing, but at Starbucks they'll give you a smile and act like they're doing you a favour by selling you over glorified, flavoured coffee," Matthew punctuated the end of his tirade by blowing a lone curl off his face. "I miss Timmies."

Arthur hummed his agreement as he idly flipped the page on one of Ludwig's inhumanely thorough financial reports (though he really only half-agreed since he didn't know who this 'Timmy' was and why Matthew missed him so much). "Their tea is utter shit too," He commented, still not breaking his staring contest with a graph that he was determined to understand. "I tried something they call a London Fog and it really was more fog than tea. It cost a ridiculous amount too."

At this, Matthew finally looked up from his meeting notes and raised an eyebrow at Arthur.

"It's not even about the money," Arthur amended quickly. Lord knew the students at UN Academy could stand to throw away a few dollars at Starbucks. "I would pay any amount for a good cup of tea, but that piss was definitely not worth what I paid for it."

Matthew smiled sympathetically at him before returning back to the notes he was highlighting for Alfred (that lazy bastard). Meanwhile, Arthur found himself staring at Matthew dazedly for a few beats longer before finally returning to the graph that he had no hope of understanding now.

Okay, so maybe the after school meetings had a purpose other than simply getting to know the other boy. Half of his time was spent wondering if it was possible to like someone you couldn't remember.

Well, there was no doubt that he liked Matthew but exactly how much he wasn't sure. In a rare act of desperation he even consulted a film called The Notebook.

But seeing as how he wasn't suffering from Alzheimer's and he wasn't American, he could relate very little to the characters and was left more stumped and annoyed than before.

And so he had fallen back on a tried and true method; consulting books. But no, not just any books by any authors. No - this was Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.

Arthur actually fancied himself to be a lot like Mr. Darcy. A completely fine gentleman underneath the three-piece suit and just slightly awkward about namby pamby things like affection.

Somewhere, Elizabeth Bennet was rolling around, laughing in her grave. Okay, unbelievably awkward when it came to affection. More awkward than a baby giraffe on stilts, maybe.

In his defence, Arthur didn't mean to act like a bastard - it just sort of came out that way because of his little quirks in his attitude. For example, he usually kept a stiff expression when asking for favours so they usually come out sounding more like orders. It wasn't his fault, really. He was English, damn it. Stiff upper lip and all that.

Besides, acting as the student council president meant he had to keep a poker face nearly 90% of the time, and, well keeping a stern face for hours on end made it just a bit harder for him to relax his facial muscles back into a smile like Matthew.

He could only thank his lucky stars that Matthew was a lot more agreeable and patient than Elizabeth. So whenever Arthur was accidentally too curt with him he would smile, take it in stride, and maybe accidentally add too much milk into Arthur's tea during the next meeting. Maybe he did stand a chance after all.

Looking up from the report slightly, he chanced a glance at Matthew. The other boy had taken off the stifling school blazer and rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. His wavy hair fell forward to hide his face as he leant close to the table to highlight some other important bit of information. When he straightened back up in his seat, he seemed to notice Arthur staring at him because he immediately turned his way before opening his mouth to say something.

However, Arthur looked away hastily as soon as their eyes met and, with an imperious cough, returned to his papers and signaled for Matthew to do the same.

Lord help him.

Oh man. Sorry for all the fail.

OH Just a couple of clarifications:

1) No, I don't have anything against Starbucks. I love the stuff but sometimes it feels like highway robbery (and I had a very bad experience with a London Fog)

2) My high school really did have an External Affairs position but people hardly ran for it and it wasn't an American high school so just roll with it.

3) Ulysse Nardin is a Swiss watch manufacturer and I pray you don't recognize the brand. (Cause I didn't but I'm hardly caught up on the watch world). I just needed someone whose initials matched the UN and they were the first google gave me

4) I happen to think Mr. Darcy was slicker than an icy road but that may just be me

5) ANDD lastly. The Call of Duty thing (which is also not mine) was just a random topic I picked. It was either that or classic rock because they both seem like rockers and gamers to me. IDK. Btw quickscoping is a totally cheap way to get kills because I cant do it and blahblahblah.

I'll probably try and write 3 chapters 1 extra… maybe. I… I don't know when I'll be able to update. I've put off enough homework to keep me busy for the rest of the semester probably. Gah. Anyway, this was originally written on my iPod at school so if you see some hilarious mistake ala auto correct please tell me immediately in a review because even though I re-edited this I might miss a damn autocorrect word. Alsoo please leave a review? :)