England was puzzled. Something was happening, something that shouldn't be. He cocked his head to the side, surveying the situation, his thick eyebrows furrowed. Then he moved his head to the other side. All in all, it was still puzzling.

A cryptic message was scrawled across the paper. He frowned, trying to read it. If anything, it looked like French, but that frog wouldn't succumb to writing a letter to him. He checked the address, still puzzled. No, it was from France. France had just sent him a letter.

When he had managed to translate the jargon on the page, he swore loudly. France was bragging! He had a new country under his control, and France was enjoying it immensely.

'Allo, England. How are you? I'm doing well. Especially well, too, because I have a new country under my control. A most innocent and delicious one, at that ! It's a very beautiful place, much prettier than any of your ugly places. Well, I must go and gaze upon my new love, because it fills me with much joy to know you have the crappy end of the stick.

Au Revoir, stupide.

Francais

He was bragging! The nerve of that sodding frog! Well, he'd show how much better his colonies were then France's! England felt disgruntled; his colonies were lovely colonies. Prone to, er, rebellion and such, but lovely and annoying- challenging- he reminded himself, colonies.

He stalked off to find his best suit and his coat.

"Oi! Open up!" England pounded on France's door. He waited for several minutes before pounding again. It was cold outside, dawning on winter. "Open up, you fop!"

The door cracked up, France's eye peering through. England gritted his teeth.

"Quoi? England? You got moi's letter?" England saw France smile.

"I bloody well did, and I bloody well do not agree!" England bared his teeth in a feral growl. "Now let me in - it's a sodding ice storm out here."

France threw his head back, laughing. But he opened the door to let in England.

England blew on his hands, trying to rub some warmth into them. He sat down on one of the elaborate couches that adorned France's livingroom, and looked around. The place was a little too clean, and a little too... Renaissance.

"Been visiting your 'amazing' colony lately?" England asked, more harshly then he intended. He wasn't jealous; he just knew his colonies were better.

"Oui. I was just about to go and visit again. Do you want to come with me?" France smiled. "Of course, if you want to, er, stay here in the cold-"

"It's warm?" England demanded. Ah, warmth. He wanted to feel it.

"Oh, oui. Very warm. Is that a yes, then?" France asked. England frowned.

"If I must," he muttered.

It was warm where this 'amazing' colony lived. England breathed in the salty air. Oh, how it stirred his adventurous blood. He smiled, but only after he made sure France wasn't looking.

"Papa Francais!" England heard. He turned and saw France hugging someone.

"Bonjour, Seychelles. Ca va?"

"Ca va bon!" England heard laughing. France moved out of the way of this mysterious colony...

She was young, on the strange awkward cusp of adolescence and adulthood. She had beautiful, wavy brown hair, tempered with big red ribbons. Her skin was tan by days in the sun, her eyes deep pools of chocolate. Her blue dress hid her form, and England was ashamed of himself for even thinking about it.

"Qui est tu?" she asked.

"Er-" England said. "Er, P-parlez-vous ingles?" He stuttered over the awkward french, hearing France snickering behind him. The girl smiled.

"Oui. My name is Seychelles. And you...?"

"Er, England." he tried smiling at her. Her eyes grew big.

"You're Monsieur Pirate!" she sighed. She ran up to him, staring with adoration. He backed up a bit, suddenly flushing from her attention. "Oh, papa France has told me so many stories about you! I love hearing stories! Do you know any stories?" she laughed again. She was innocent, and England felt himself beginning to be swamped by it.

"Er- I suppose, if I must," he muttered, staring everywhere but her attentive eyes. She inched closer. He inched farther away. France was behind them, suppressing laughter.

He told her a few stories from when he was younger. He talked about the crusades, and the Romans; of Camelot, and King Arthur. Even of a few pirating exhibitions he had recently been on. She stared at him the entire time, enchanted by him. After a while, he began to loosen up. He liked this girl; she was spirited and lively, not to mention pretty. But she was purely innocent, and he liked that best about her.

Eventually, he had to leave. Seychelles frowned and begged him to stay the night. He almost accepted, but he was embarrassed to think of spending the night with a girl. The blonde man walked away from her, and when he was back home, he knew one thing.

France was right. He was jealous. And now he wanted her to be part of his lovely colonies. He smiled, thinking of the time they would spend together. He could introduce to her society, and she could learn to be a proper lady, with gowns and gloves, her hair swept up in a style that could show off the sensuous curve of her neck.

A couple months later, he was knocking on France's door again. France opened it quickly this time. He surveyed England wearily.

"Quoi?" he asked. England swallowed hard.

"I would, er, like to have Seychelles." He smiled up at France, and France glared back.

"Hm, let me think. NON." France shut the door.

"Wait, please!" England shoved his foot in the doorway. He shoved his way into the room, and pinned France to the wall. France was surprised, and suddenly England had the upper hand. They scuffled for a bit, but England won when he smashed France in the nose with his elbow. There was a moment of silence, and then France spoke up.

"Maybe we can arrange something."

A/N- Uhh. Just going through and editing it and cleaning it up. (I always forget to edit my stories :( sadface)