Author's Notes: Sweet! I finally got Chapter 3 up! I'm really excited for this chapter. I got to use French! Sorry all you who speak French if it is grammatically incorrect. I don't speak French... Oh! Another note! In this chapter I'm using line breaks not only to show the end, but also to show a change in point of view from one character to another. Just so there is no confusion. Happy early Hetalia Day! All the usual stuff now, this story contains yaoi, blah, blah blah. I don't own Hetalia, copyright, ownership, blah.

EDIT: Fixed some of the French that was written incorrectly! Thank you so much for helping me out because, just as I said, I don't speak French...

Alfred F. Jones was taking a leisurely walk home from the convenience store completely ignorant to the happenings at that very hour. He hummed a random song he had heard earlier as he walked home. The street lights had turned on a half hour prior, and the sun was no longer visible along the horizon. Suddenly, a black car zoomed past him. Alfred stopped and squinted at the vehicle.

Was that Francis' car? He thought to himself. What could have him so jumped up, I wonder…

Not willing to dwell on strange thoughts of his perverted friend, Alfred continued on his walk home, humming the random song yet again.

I wonder if Gilbert's on Xbox tonight… he thought, his mind wandering to videogames.

A clouded mess of colors and shapes faded in and out of Arthur's vision.

Am I dreaming? he thought. What is all this mess?

His vision went dark. He felt the sensation of floating through the air. Purple, blue, red, and black mixed together across his limited field of vision, all tinted gray. It felt now as if he were lying upon a cloud of some kind.

For the second time, his vision went dark, but he could now hear a very clear tune.

Someone was humming the tune of the bride's song. Occasionally, "Here comes the bride, all dress in white!" would be sung.

The voice that sang the lines sounded awfully familiar to Arthur. Since all his thought were muddled together in a big messy blob, he could not recall where he had heard this voice or who it belonged to.

A sudden coldness enveloped him from head to toe, disrupting his musings. Small tendrils of warmth moved across his body, creating small, fleeting springs of heat. Arthur wanted to squirm as the foreign tendrils traversed the plain of his body, but his body refused to move. It was just a heavy stone against the cloud he lay upon.

A strange, light blanket was laid across him. It was tighter around his torso than around his legs. Was he being tucked into bed?

His vision acquired a clear yet somewhat blurry quality. At first he believed what he saw to be reality. The ceiling above him was white, and a ceiling fan could be seen out of the corner of his eye. Slowly, Arthur looked down at himself, bending his neck as much as he could without sitting up.

What the hell?

The blanket he thought he had felt earlier was a white gown. He was wearing a wedding dress with no inkling as to how he came to be wearing it.

Why am I wearing a bloody wedding gown?

Crazy assumptions and questions flooded into the forefront of his mind.

This must be a dream. It has to be! But in dreams you don't realize it's a dream. This cannot be reality!

Arthur searched his surroundings for some other tell-tale sign that this was a dream. Creepy clowns from the movie Alfred made him watch should be raining from the ceiling! Something caught his eye midway through his survey of the room.

It was a man sitting at a desk with his back to Arthur. Arthur could just barely make out what seemed to be a computer on the other side of the mysterious man with his bleary vision. He scrutinized the man; his eyes lingering longer on the man's hair than anywhere else. The style looked almost too familiar…

God, no!

It was Francis, Arthur's own personal romantic French stalker. Again Arthur looked down to his clothes and back to Francis. The two ideas connected suddenly in his mind, and his eyes widened significantly.

Oh no. God, no!

He swung his gaze across the room searching for an exit. Then he spotted it. It was to the right of Francis and his computer, opposite of Arthur. Eyes flitting from Francis to the door, Arthur tried to crawl out of the bed as quickly as possible. His body, however, was still extremely lethargic, so he collapsed into a heap on the floor with a thump when he attempted to climb off the bed.

The sound caused Francis to twitch, but his eyes refused to leave the screen until a second later. In that second Arthur attempted to crawl to the door as best he could in the dress he was presently sporting. The quiet squeak of a chair sounded before Francis' voice rang through the air.

"Aha! I see that you are awake now moi chère! Whatever could you be doing?"

A sly, evil grin appeared on the Frenchman's face as he approached Arthur.

Arthur's eyes grew wide. He threw his arms out in front of him in an attempt to protect himself from the incoming French frog. A hoarse yelp escaped his mouth instead of the words, "Get away."

"At a loss for words now, are we?"

Francis grinned, his voice too happy for Arthur. The Frenchman's face was now inches from Arthur's own despite his efforts to slap his kidnapper away.

"Well, how about you sleep a little longer."

Francis grinned once more before forcefully pulling Arthur into a kiss.

Arthur tried to keep his lips closed, but failed and felt something slide down his throat

He's drugging me! No. No, no, no, no, no, no!

"Fais de beaux rêves, mon capturé amour"

For the second time in twenty-four hours, Arthur blacked out.

Francis smiled as Arthur, once again, slumped into his waiting arms.

I could get used to this, he thought blissfully.

He lifted Arthur's body back onto his bed and smoothed out the dress.

"We don't want your dress to get all wrinkled, now do we, mon chér?" he murmured, half to himself.

Chuckling, he returned to the computer behind him. The screen displayed the website for the online edition of the Junjou Romantica manga. He had been in the middle of a very intense, emotional scene when Arthur had woken up and ruined the moment for him. Francis sighed and minimized the window for later.

Now to send out those wedding invitations, he thought gleefully.

A mischievous grin stretched across his face as he added more e-mails to the attendees list. Everyone must be present for this grand celebration.

The mouse hovered over one address in particular longer that the others: HeroJones . It belonged to Alfred F. Jones. Should he be invited? The man Arthur had mistaken Francis for? The one who seemed to mean a lot to Arthur and had an obvious infatuation for the Brit?

Francis mulled over the thought for a moment.

No.

Alfred would not be invited. There was no telling how he may react. Francis added Mattmaple to the list instead. Clicking the send button, Francis leaned back to watch the miniature Pierre animation fly around the screen and then pop out of existence. It flew in front of his message:

You are cordially invited to the joining of:

Francis Bonnefoy and Arthur Kirkland

High-hill Church

3:00 p.m.-12:00p.m.

Saturday, November, 20, 2011

R.S.V.P. by 12:00 a.m. November 20, 2011

Francis glanced at the clock hanging next to his computer. It was 10:00 a.m.

Only a few more hours until Arthur and I will be happily married with no way back.

He smiled at the thought and spun his chair around to face Arthur. Suddenly, his pocket vibrated, and he slipped out his phone to answer it.

"Hello?"

"What the hell is going on Francis?" screamed a very angry, German-accented voice. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

Francis had to hold his cell away from his ear to avoid permanently damaging his eardrum. He sighed.

"First, Gilbert, calm down. Second, to answer your previous question, Arthur and I are getting married," the Frenchman replied nonchalantly.

"Well I suspected that is the reason you sent out the mass e-mail. I mean how did it even happen? The Arthur I know would have never agreed to this willingly. Wait. You didn't blackmail him did you?" question the now calm Gilbert.

"I didn't blackmail him, no. Not yet at least. I simply approached him while he was drunk and asked him to sign the papers, which he did. Then I drugged him and here we are!"

Francis smiled despite the fact Gilbert could not hear him. Silence commanded the line for half a minute.

"So!" Gilbert exclaimed, breaking the silence. "What are you going to do about Alfred? Everyone knows that he has a thing for Arthur, except Arthur himself."

Francis could almost see his albino friends smiling mischievously into the phone, ready to create some chaos.

"I'm not going to do anything, and neither are you, mon ami. Alfred will never have to know, until after the ceremony of course."

A sigh was audible from the other side of the line. A sigh of defeat.

"Have it your way Francis. You're no fun anymore. I guess I'll see you at the church."

"Ah! One last thing Gilbert, for the sake of formality, would you be my best man?"

Silence once again ruled over the line to the point where Francis believed Gilbert had hung up on him. Then a soft snickering was audible. It grew to a hysterical laughter so loud that Francis had to hold the phone away from his ear once again. One whole minute had past until it was safe once more to bring the phone back to his ear.

"Mein Gott, Francis! You're so weird! But whatever, the awesome me will be your best man or whatever you want me to be. After all it will be your great day of victory!"

Francis shook his head in bemusement. His friends could be so strange at times; he never knew what was passing through their minds.

"I'll see you at the church," Gilbert sniffed, another bout of laughter sure to take hold as soon as he hung up.

"Au revoir!"

Francis set his cell phone on the desk behind him and stood up smiling.

It is time to call the caterers and prepare the rings. This will be a day to remember!

Author's Notes: And scene! It is complete! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please, please, pretty please review/critique! I want to improve for the next chapter! =3 Time to make more madness! =D