It Is All Pointless When You End Up Where You Started

They were very likely to kill each other. England knew this well. Part of the reason he had left in the first place – let alone the fact France had difficulty keeping his attention in one place and was a horrendous flirt who could not seem to keep it in his–

"Angleterre, you are glaring at me again."

"Give me a reason why I shouldn't."

France was wondering how much of his technique he should change. It always seemed to work for him in the past. Just... not well enough.

"True enough."

England nearly choked on his champagne. "What?"

"You have every reason to glare at me, I suspect," France reiterated. "It is a fact I should learn to deal with, oui? Even if I don't quite agree with it."

England scowled. France and his tricks, he was trying to play a sympathetic character who did not deserve the scorn he really did deserve, but who was strong enough to move past it. Yeah right.

Then again, France did not open the door as fast as England had expected him to. He had stood there for about three whole minutes before France let him in. Which made England fear that maybe France was getting tired of dealing with him and was just going to give up.

Never mind that had been exactly what England had wanted earlier. Faced with that possibility, England wanted to kill the Nation for considering it.

The fact that Prussia and Spain had been restraining him was a fact England was not privy to. France continued to play the card, however, because it seemed to be working.

"This is stupid."

"Oui."

"Should we even be bothering?"

"Do not say things like that."

England sighed and stared down at his plate. "Fine. What should I say?"

France said goodbye to life and tried to think of a response which would either have him killed painlessly, or quickly. "How are we going to work this out?"

"I tried that already," England grumbled. "And you stuck me in a sack."

"Yes, I did. We have established this."

"Do I have to worry about that happening again?" There. He had asked it. It was a question of the ages. The question everyone wants to know the answer to.

France grinned.

"Probably."

England promptly tossed his champagne into France's face and left. France followed after and just like always they ended up bickering in a bedroom while both were trying very hard not to laugh.

"Did you pay Prussia to fix the tires?" England asked finally. France thought about it. Actually, he was thinking about his words, because he already knew the answer. Curse the English language and phrases which are now known as commonplace!

"No. Germany showed up. Prussia has to deal with it himself."

France almost expected to hear something about taking responsibility, but England kissed him instead.

So it's only when it comes to him I have to take responsibility? I can deal with that.

On the other hand, England was thinking Ha! Prussia's in so much trouble! That'll show that idiot that he should stay out of business that has nothing to do with him!

Certainly both thoughts were childish, but neither England or France said their's aloud and so neither of them could point it out.

They were sort of stupid like that. Stupid and utterly Human.

And certainly the next week France was going to break up with England or England was going to be breaking up with France, but that would be them going full circle all over again.

It makes life interesting.

Yes, they end up sort of where they start out. It is another one of my open endings. Just another chapter in the relationship of France and England, I suppose. I took the idea of England throwing his wine in France's face from watching 'Sherlock Holmes' the other day. Excellent movie. Plus, I just like the image of France soaked with wine against his will. It happens, sometimes.

Thanks to all for sitting through this rather pointless story with me. I just wanted to take that episode of Titus and put these characters in it, but then I ran out of episode. So I hope this wrapping up of everything is good for everyone.