Disclaimer: Not mine... weeps bitterly

Summary: Alfred Jones is a kind hearted hero, and Arthur kirkland is the epitome of everything he hates. When these two very different people are called to attend a prestigious school together, will the two boys listen to their heads, or their tell tale hearts?

Oh hi ^^ I have to say this is probably one of the first fics I've ever written where the words had come out so easily for me so I'm really excited about writing it :D

O ~ O ~ O

Alfred F. Jones reclined back in his chair, swinging denim clad legs onto his desk and letting his muddy sneakers hit it with a dull thud. "I'm telling you Matty this is gonna be the year." He said, grinning at his friend. Matthew rolled his eye's, setting his elbows on his knees and resting his head in his hands as he quirked a quizzical eyebrow toward his flamboyant friend.

"So you keep saying. Honestly Alfred do you think anything will change the more you keep saying that? We've been in school a month and I hate to break it too you but you've already been shoved in 5 lockers and had your clothes stolen from gym a grand total of 12 times. Not to mention the glasses incident..." He trailed off, staring apathetically at his friend who's wide grin had been pulled into a small frown. "Those guys have been relentless and you know it isn't going to get better."

"I don't know why they're such a pain to me." Alfred muttered, pulling his knees against his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs. Matthew just sighed again, turning his legs back towards the front of the room. Alfred scowled at his friend and buried his head in his knees. Matty always made it seem like he was missing something painfully obvious, but he would never actually explain what exactly it was Alfred was missing. It frustrated him to no end. How was he supposed to know what he was supposed to know if Matthew didn't tell him?

"Look." The more levelheaded of the two said, turning back to Alfred. "It's not like everyone picks on you right? It's only the Jocks and it's only because they're jealous. All the girls adore you and the other guys look up to you."

Alfred let out an incredulous snort and rolled his eyes. "Jealous. Right." He grinned haphazardly. "You really are funny Matty."

"I'm serious Alfred." His friend replied sternly. "Come on you have to understand why. You're the smartest kid in school. On top of that you're good at sports, all the girls adore you, plus you're actually not bad looking." Alfred quirked his eye brows and gave him a sly grin, eyes alight with amusement.

"In a non-gay way of course." Matthew added, catching on to Alfred's look. Alfred laughed, smacking Matthew's shoulder.

"Just making sure kid. You know those rumors and stuff..." He trailed off, still grinning. Matthew frowned and gave him what Alfred would classify as his best 'How could you' look and then joined Alfred in his smiling letting out a short chuckle.

"Yea well don't worry about that. Trust me I'm not going gay any time soon." he said, pushing himself out of his chair and gathering up his books.

"Awwww you're leaving?" Alfred whined, tugging on Matthew's sleeve in a feeble attempt to get his friend to sit back down.

"Yes." He replied, tugging his arm out of Alfred's grip. "Lunch is almost over and my class is all the way in the second building. I'll be late if I don't get going."

"I knew we should have eaten outside like we always do." Alfred grumbled, crossing his arms in a pose akin to a pouting child. "Then you wouldn't be leaving me aloooooooone."

Matthew rolled his eyes, sliding his books into his new red backpack. " Eating in one of the class rooms was better. I had work to do Alfred. Work that you effectively kept me from doing with all your talking I might add. My bio teacher is going to have a fit you know."

"No he won't." Alfred protested. "Come on man your grades are as good as if not better then mine. One little piece of paper not finished ain't gonna cause any harm."

"I'm amazed you're passing English you know." Matthew laughed, hauling his heavy pack over his shoulder. "With that language of yours, the teacher must have a fit every time you open your mouth."

"Damn stuck up British people." Alfred seethed, scuffing his tennis shoes on the shining white tile. "My English teacher hates me. I'm surprised I still have an A in his 'effing class, seeing as all ever hear is shit about the way I talk." He threw his hands above his head, leaning against the old wooden desk for support. "It is pronounced 'is not' not isn't or ain't." He mocked, not putting any sort of effort into his faux British accent. "And it is 'learnt' not 'learned'. Get it right for once you stupid boy or I'll throw you off the tower of London. And furthermore that accent is atrocious. You could at least try not to drawl out your words like someone in one of those horrid American movies. You sound like a mental patient and it's even more horrendously unbecoming then the rest of you. Now do go die so I can have some peace and quiet. Pip pip cheerio."

Matthew doubled over in laughter, clutching his stomach fiercely and holding the other over his mouth in a feeble attempt to stifle his amusement. "You idiot." He choked out in between fits of giggling. "You better not talk like that in front of -gasp- any of the -gasp- British kids." He scolded half heartedly, still trying to control his laughter. Alfred grinned widely, spinning in a circle and placing his hand dramatically over his heart.

"Ah yes. Fear the vengeful Brits. Cause we didn't already kick their ass's in the revolutionary war." He quipped, a proud smirk tugging on his lips. Pushing up his rounded glasses and wiping tears from his eyes, Matthew merely shook his head. "How would you like it if they made fun of your country Alfred?"

"But they do!" He whined. "All day and every day. Hey how come they never make fun of you Matty? You're from Canada I mean, no offense but the U.S.A is way more awesome then Canada! And ok fine I'm the only kid from the states, but you're the only Canadian!"

"Well aren't you sweet." Matthew muttered. "I was so hoping that my best friend would insult my homeland today." As if suddenly realizing just what he had said, Alfred opened his mouth to protest, but Matthew held up a hand, silencing him.

"It's fine. Actually everyone pretty much forgets where Canada even if most of the time, and no one ever really says much about it. I suppose that's why they just don't have anything to tease me about. Now before you say another word the bell is going to ring in approximately two minutes which gives me seven minutes to get to building two. Because I need to beg on my hands and knees for an extension on this paper, I need to be there at least two minutes early so with that logic in mind, it would make sense that I leave right..." He paused, still holding up his hand and swinging his gaze briefly over to the clock mounted on the wall. "Now." He said suddenly. And with those words, Matthew Williams turned on his heel and marched towards the classroom door. He swung it open fiercely, and before his friend could get a word in edge wise, bolted into the hall and disappeared into the mass of students.

Alfred stared at the door Matthew had exited out of and chuckled. He really had seemed quiet and meek when he'd first met him. Turned out he wasn't really either of those two. Sighing, Alfred slouched back into his chair and absentmindedly drew shapes in the air with his finger. Matthew was probably right. This year wasn't going to be any different then the years before. The nerds would look up to him, the girls would adore him, the skaters would ignore him, and the jocks would beat up on him. Brilliant. It wasn't his fault that they'd played so much rugby that their brains stopped functioning. At one point, he'd even tried to help them with their schoolwork. That hadn't gone particularly well. Alfred shuddered at the memory and forced it to the back of his mind. It wasn't his fault he was smart. And good looking. And good at (some) sports. It wasn't like he minded girls falling over him all the time of course, but perhaps it would have been better if they didn't After all, the whole conflict began with the fact that the moment he had stepped foot on the junior high campus, the girls immediately turned their attention from the other boys and showered him with attention.

He rubbed his head furiously, whacking his forehead against the cool wooden desk and letting out an exasperated sigh. Well whatever. It wasn't like school was hard or anything, especially not this one. He would just soar through classes as usual and when he graduated, he could move back to the states. That was always his plan. Finish school and get the heck out of England. It wasn't like he was happy his parents had forced him to move to this hellhole, and he'd sworn from the moment they set foot on the ground that he was moving back home as soon as possible

"Four more years." He muttered into his arms. Well he's survived the first four, he could survive the last four. The familiar chiming of the minute bell echoed through the classroom and Alfred sat up as students began to pour into the room. Odd. He thought. I must have not heard the first one. The students settled down in their seats and began to chat amongst themselves, waiting for the final bell to ring and for their teacher to arrive. Alfred lifted his gaze to the ticking second hand on the clock. Ten seconds until the final bell. Not even a millisecond second later, the door swung open dramatically and a tall blond boy stepped quickly into the room and slid into the seat next to Alfred's just as the final bell chimed.

"Hey Soren. Cutting it a little close huh? You could have been late." Alfred joked, punching his friend lightly on the shoulder. The taller blonde laughed, azure blue eye's alighting mischivieously. "You would show up last minute too if you were where I was just now." he winked. "Besides it's not like Mr. Panty's in a knot can do anything. Look, he's not even here yet. And unless he's got video cameras around here watching us, I'm pretty sure I'm safe. Don't sweat it Al."

As if on cue, their uptight teacher strode bruisqly into the room and instantaneously the students quieted. The two boys exchanged wolfish grins and Soren passed Alfred a small spiral notebook that he'd pulled out of his backpack. It was cruel. It was mean and awful and Matthew scolded them for it because he swore they were going to get expelled someday. But they kept at it anyway. Messing with their English teacher was just to fun an opportunity to pass up. Every day since school had begun, the two boys meticulously planned out a new strategy to torture their malevolent teacher in that red spiral bound notebook. And every day with out fail, their plan was set in motion and the boys along with the rest of the class would struggled to hold back their laughter as they watched him attempt to free himself from whatever sort of situation the two put him in. It wasn't really befitting work of a hero like Alfred, but it was fun nonetheless and as long as they weren't actually hurting him, he didn't see the harm. Today, it was paper airplanes. Heaps of them.

Mr. McKardish (aka Mr. Panty's in a knot) had begun his monotone lesson and Alfred and soren were just pulling the first of many paper airplanes out of their bags, when a loud beeping resonated through the room. The students looked at each other in surprise and the room broke out into a chorus of murmurings. That was the chime that signaled announcements, but they'd already had the announcements for the day. Which meant someone was being called up to the office for causing trouble.

"I wonder who the poor sap is." Alfred murmured to Soren, and the lighter haired blonde shrugged.

"Please pardon the interruption." A women's voice echoed through the full classrooms and empty halls of the school. "Will Alfred Jones, Soren Mathiesen and Matthew Williams please report to the office immediately? Again Alfred Jones, Soren Mathiesen and Matthew Williams, please report to the office immediately? Thank you, that is all."

Alfred and Soren exchanged numb looks, unable to manage any thing but letting their mouths hang wide open. The room immediately broke out into harsh whispers, and eye's flicked continuously in their direction as the students tried to think up just what two of the top freshmen in the school had done this time to get them in so much trouble.

"Well well it seems as if you're reign of terror here is finally over," Mr. McKardish sneered, stepping down the isle to stand directly in front of the awestruck boys. "Just because you two are smart you get so much slack when you do something wrong. But now, now justice is finally being served and high time it was. In fact I think..."

Soren and Alfred tossed each other annoyed looks. They were in no particular mood to hear their English teacher's sermon (not that they ever wanted to) and the two, each in his own mind, decided enough was enough. And so without a second thought they stood, and in what appeared to be one fluid movement, the two boys snatched up their back packs, sprinted through the desks and out the back door of the class room, leaving a room of giggling students and one red faced teacher behind them.

O ~ O ~ O

"Do you boy's know why you're here?" Alfred, Matthew and Soren sat mutely in the principles office, throwing puzzled glances at each other, as if perhaps one of them knew the reason for their summoning.

"You know that already don't you?" Soren drawled, staring the principle square in the eyes. "So why are you asking us? Just get on with it." The women frowned slightly, but quickly pulled her mouth back into a warm smile, so quickly that Alfred had to wonder weather he'd imagined the change in her facial expression.

"Very well then. I'll cut right to the chase." She replied, folding her hands across her desk. "I received word today from someone very important that you boys are going to be given a very special opportunity." They cast each other wayward glances before refocusing their attention on the Ms Rosencrantz.

"You think you could be a little more specific?" Alfred asked incredulously. "You make it sound like we're being hauled off to some mental institution."

"I'm getting to it Alfred just relax." She sighed, abandoning her business like demeanor for an instant to tap her fingers on her wooden desk in annoyance. "Now as I was saying, somehow the three of you managed to catch the eye of the headmaster of BNA, or Britain's National Academy. For some reason, he seems to be under the impression that you all will do well at the school..." She trailed off, closing her eyes and letting out a deep tired sigh. "And as I'm in no position to argue with him, it is with the greatest reluctance," she smiled, " as well as pride, that I hand you these." Drawing her arm from what they could only assume was a drawer in her desk, she extended her hand to them holding three prestigious looking letters.

The boys slowly accepted them, turning them over in their hands and inspecting them as if she'd just handed them a ticking bomb. Well this can't be right. Alfred thought to himself. Me? Accepted to one of those stuck up rich kids schools? He resisted the urge to burst out laughing and merely frowned, continuing to flip the letter over and inspect it. No it was some dumb practical joke that the teachers were pulling on him. Probably Mr. McKardish, if he had to wager a guess.

"You're shitting us, right?" Soren was the first to speak, still flipping the envelope carelessly in his hands.

"Soren!" Matthew hissed, giving the taller boy a gentle shove. Alfred felt a wide smile flit across his lips and let out a small chuckle. It figured the first thing Matthew would say would be some sort of scolding. Mrs. Rosencrantz raised her eyes in disapproval but choose to ignore Soren's foul language.

"What?" Soren muttered. "You people have to be pulling one over our eye's. I mean this is like the white dog incident all over again isn't it? You all are going to send us off to some random place and trick us into thinking there's a school and then everyone is going to jump out and yell, surprise! Gotcha! Right?"

"I can assure you we most certainly are not. Now before you start spewing other such atrocities I'll kindly have you leave. I'm sending the three of you home today to discuss the matter with your parent's. After all, you do need their permission. The forms are due in three days boys. You're not required to come to school those days, as we understand this may be a difficult decision. However by the third day if you haven't given us the forms, or you decline the offer, you are to be back in classes by Friday, do you understand?"

"That's four days." Soren muttered under his breath.

"Not including today. Tuesday Wednesday Thursday. Three days. Goodness I do sometimes wonder how you three do so well." She replied, forcing a smile to her face. Alfred bit back a sour retort and instead, simply tossed her his own dazzling grin.

"Thank you very much Ms. Rosencrantz. We'll take our leave now then. Come on you two." He said, standing and snatching his friends up by their arms. "We'll be back in three day's with our reply for them.

O ~ O ~ O

"Well that went swimmingly." Matthew sighed as the trio ambled down the worn sidewalk.

"Tell me about it." Alfred groaned. "What kind of shit is this? Seriously could this year be starting out any worse?"

"Say's the boy proclaiming victory over the world not an hour ago." Matthew laughed, cuffing Alfred playfully on the head. "Honestly you know, I don't really think this is such a bad thing." He mused as he pulled his jacket more tightly around him against the cold. "I mean think about it. We could finally get out of here. We could take classes that were actually interesting," Soren and Alfred rolled their eyes. "Ok fine. I could take classes that interest me. But Alfred you wouldn't have to put up with the idiots at that school any more. And think about it this way. Maybe this will get you closer to the states. After all you never know if they offer exchange programs." At mention of his homeland Alfred visibly perked up, turning his body completely towards the indigo-eyed blond.

"You think so?" He chirped, a pleased smile sliding onto his lips. "I hadn't thought of that." Visions of his old town flashed in Alfred's memory and filled his body with nostalgia. What he wouldn't give to go home.

"Then it's settled." Matthew nodded. "We're all going."

"Hey what about my vote?" The Dane whined. "I don't know if I like any of this, leaving an all. I've got a girl you know. Besides I'm not so sure my old man would go for it."

"That's fine." Matthew said casually, smiling pleasantly at his friend. "In fact maybe it's better if just Alfred and I go. Wouldn't want to leave that poor school completely without genius, even if it is a lower form of it."

Alfred smirked, catching on to Matthews plan. That Canadian really could be conniving when he wanted to be. He knew Soren well enough to know that there was no way he would want to stay behind while his two best friends shipped off, especially if he felt he was being degraded in any way.

" Oh alright." Soren grumbled throwing up his arms in defeat. "I'll get my old man on board and dump my girlfriend. I guess it was high time I got a new on anyway..."

"Hey." Matthew snapped. "That's no way to talk about a lady. You know how much I hate players Soren. Let her down gently please. Besides, I find it highly unlikely that you're going to find a girlfriend so soon after transferring. Even you're not that good."

Soren raised his hands in front of him defensively. "Hey I'm a nice guy. Don't worry I'll be sweet about it." He frowned as if something else was bothering him. "Although I wouldn't bet on that last bit. I am that good and you know it."

"Yea but I'm a hero." Alfred interjected. "So I'm automatically more amazing then you."

"In your dreams." Soren bit back, sticking out his tongue childishly. Alfred responded similarly, blowing raspberries at him and throwing a soft punch at Soren's shoulder.

"Awww come on I was only kidding." Alfred said sweetly, an innocent look adorning his face. "Besides how can I possibly beat a guy who writes poetry?"

Soren's face paled and he stopped dead in his tracks. Matthew threw Alfred a questioning look but he just stood there grinning at his shell-shocked friend.

"You..." Soren growled, taking a step forward. Alfred reached boldly into his back pocket and withdrew what looked like a small black notebook, waving it around in front of him.

"I mean no wonder you always have girls around you." He teased. "You're a regular Romeo huh?"

"You bastard!" Soren snarled, lunging toward the American. Alfred dodged fluidly out of the way, holding the notebook above his head. "Aww that's so sweet he's embarrassed." Alfred cooed as he backed away from the fuming Dane.

"Alfred..." Matthew warned meekly, inching away from the two of them. There was no way in heck he was getting involved in something like that, not between those two.

"I'm going to kill you!" Soren seethed, taking another swing at Alfred. Stumbling backwards to avoid contact with the much stronger blondes fist, Alfred realized he was faced with two choices. Give the note book back and get the shit beaten out of him, or opt for plan b: run. Really really fast. Spinning on his heels and still clasping the black book in hand, Alfred sprinted from his friend as fast as his legs would carry him, Soren hot on his heels the whole trip home screaming profanities from the top of his lungs and leaving a stunned Matthew standing alone on the cracking side walk shaking his head.

O ~ O ~ O

Emerald green eye's lit with curiosity, shifting to focus on the speaker. "So zat is 'ow it is." Francis explained, rubbing the back of his head and letting out an exasperated sigh. " 'Zey want you to enroll in 'zis school. Well actually zey want both of us to enroll but you know..." He trailed off, locking his gaze with the green-eyed boy. "So what do you think Arthur? Are you up for it?"

Arthur sighed deeply, sliding back in his chair.

"Yes alright. I'll enroll in this school." he replied, pushing himself up right, "It is after all, a great honor to be accepted there. And this..." He trailed of quietly, flicking his gaze to the half alight sky out a small window. "This could be the chance I've been waiting for Francis."

"Very well. I will inform zem of your decision." Francis said, nodding to the British boy in approval. "See you later then Arthur. And... don't hurry back to school. It has been nice and quiet since you got suspended."

"Bloody frog." Arthur growled. "I thought you were supposed to be my friend, eh? Besides if we really are going to be attending this new school it really doesn't matter does it?"

Francis rolled his eyes as he gathered up his coat off the soft red coach. "Well it is going to matter at zis new school so shape up would you?"

"Shouldn't I be the one telling you that?" Arthur jested. "You're Mr. get's around not me."

Francis chuckled, pulling the front door open and letting in a rush of cold air. "We 'ave our own problems Arthur. You deal with yours and then I'll deal mine." Without another word, the French boy stepped out the door and closed it behind him, the dull slam echoing in the room.

Arthur pushed himself out of his sagging blue chair and stood, stretching out his arms in a cat-like manner. "Hungry." He muttered, drifting towards his small kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, he frowned at the lack of food. He would have to go to the store. Shutting the door with a flick of his hand, he turned and shuffled toward his bedroom. Maybe a nap would do. Upon entering his room he plopped down on his small single bed, wrapping the union jack blanket around him. Life had been so dreadfully dull as of late for Arthur Kirkland. Nothing happened. Nothing ever did. He just walked through life in a daze watching the world spin by around him. Perhaps this new school was just what he needed. After all, it was what his family would want. He scowled, turning toward the picture frame on his bedside table and gently clasping his fingers around it. How many years had it been? Three, no four now. He sat up cross-legged in bed, setting the picture tenderly at his feet and running his fingers over the glass. Seven smiling faces stared up at him, one of them, being his own. He rubbed his thumb across the smooth wood of the frame, thinking back to that day of the picture.

"Peter sit still it'll be over when it's over. No Scott you may not wear that shirt, go back and change. For goodness sakes Patrick can't you put that phone of yours down for two seconds? I don't care if you're texting your girlfriend, I wouldn't care if you were texting the prime minister. Pocket it now. Love, that tie doesn't match at all and it's crooked. You're as bad as your son. The photographer is going to arrive in ten minutes so hurry and change it. And where is Bryn? Arthur could you please go fetch your brother. He's probably hiding in his room."

He chuckled quietly, smiling at the memory. From the picture, no one ever would have guessed that just five minutes before they were all running around in a tizzy as his mother frantically tried to get them ready. Arthur hadn't even believed that the picture would get taken. But there it was. Scott, Patrick and Bryn standing behind the sterile beige couch smiling, the younger two smiling innocently. Arthur snickered. They'd been arguing right up until the moment when the picture was taken. If it hadn't been for Scott, they would have been arguing in the picture too. Fortunately, the older red head was a quick (or rather violent) thinker and he effectively got the two to shut up and smile by clasping his arms around their shoulder s and pulling the three of them together into an awkward horizontal hug. If he looked carefully, Arthur could see the amount of pressure Scott's hands were putting on his brother's shoulders. No wonder they're arms ached for a week after that picture.

His mother and father sat on opposite ends of the couch, both smiling warmly. His mother's light green eyes twinkled right along with his fathers deep blue ones. He hadn't even noticed during the picture, but they'd been clasping each other's hands the whole time. Right over his shoulder. Because there he was, right smack dab in the middle of all of them with his youngest brother fidgeting on his lap and his parent's arms draped lovingly over his shoulders. Peter was smiling brightly on his lap, sky blue eyes alight with happiness as he clutched his older brothers hand. Like the boy didn't have a care in the world (despite the fact that two minutes before he'd been whining about how hungry he was). The whole scene was surreal. Like something out of a picture where the family was perfect, and there's, most certainly wasn't.

The thing that always surprised Arthur most about the picture however, was not how out of character his family appeared, but how out of character he seemed to be. Even now, as he stared at his own smiling expression, it didn't seem real to him. How long had it been since he'd smiled so purely like that? Not a half smile, or a nostalgic smile, or any of those other smiles. But that one. Had he ever even smiled like that before then? After then? He couldn't even remember now. It felt like so long ago, that time when he had been with his family. He felt his heart ache and reluctantly placed the photo back on his bedside table. He really did miss them. "Just you watch." He murmured. "I'm going to do this for all of you. Go to that school I mean. I'm going to make you proud of me again, I promise."

Rubbing his eyes tiredly he decided that he really ought to get to that nap and burrowed himself under his blanket again, thinking back on his expression in that picture. He laughed bitterly and shook his head against his pillow. The first person that can get me to smile like that again is the one I marry. He thought, sarcasm lacing his thoughts. Yawning loudly, Arthur closed his eyes and allowed his mind to drift off into sleep.

O ~ O ~ O

A/N: YAY! First chapter done ^^ if you find any issues with it (like grammar etc. I suck majorly at that…) Please tell me. Oh in case you didn't catch it, Soren is Denmark. I'd heard the name used before and it really stuck with me…. Oh and his last name I got randomly. It's a real last name but I don't think it was on his list for last names. Oh well. Oh and there were two little bits I included from another piece of literature… cookies for you if you pick up on both of them! Oh and on another note, this will be many more pairings then USUK (by that i mean other characters with other characters. no one get's between MY Alfred and arthur!) but I'm not going to tell you what they're going to be. This chapter was pretty short. Shorter then I had thoguht it would turn out, so rest assured the rest will be longer, much longer. OH! One more thing

Scott - Scotland Patrick- Northern Ireland Bryn- Wales and of course Peter is Sealand ^^ ah and I think I may have messed up Soren's name spelling but I'm not sure how *frowns* so if anyone knows how it should be spelled please tell me because I would love to fix it! Unless it's right. Then I'm very proud of myself :D

Final note! No offense is meant towards Canadians or Brits :) You have to understand this is Alfred we're talking about and it's just part of his personality. Although I do have to wonder why someone follow Hetalia if they really were offended so easily... Any who, next installment will be up as soon as I can manage :) Oh yea and i apologize for my fail french accent... *sigh* I'm going to have trouble writing for Francis for a little while.