Fools Like Us

A/N: I wanted this one to be longer, but I was writing it in class and I guess I forgot where I was going with it so...yeah.

~Saya

~*~

Francis waited in the empty hallway, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for classes to be released for the day.  He had flirted his way out of his own class and now stood waiting for the irritable Student Council president, Arthur Kirkland.

It had been Jeanne's idea to come, really.  She'd come up with another of her brilliant ideas, and Francis couldn't help but pounce on it.  As he waited for Arthur, his mind wandered back to the afternoon the idea had come to her.

Jeanne leaned back against the pillows; the golden sunlight of late afternoon fell across the bed and restored her skin to its former honeyed shade.  She was laughing, her tousled blonde hair falling over her face.

Francis sat back in the chair next to the bed, smiling at her.  The atmosphere was relaxed and the two teenagers enjoyed each other's presence.

"Wow!" Jeanne gasped finally, trying to control her breathing, "Antonio really needs to watch himself with that kid, doesn't he?"

Francis nodded, his eyes still sparkling with mirth.  "Of course," he chuckled, "my cousin has an adorable face, but his temper is somewhat less pleasing."

Jeanne leaned her head back, her smile fading as she seemed to be mulling over an idea.  Finally, she asked, "You said Gilbert was going to be having some trouble with the pianist too, right?"

Francis nodded, wondering what she was getting at.  She always had wonderful, creative ideas that had a tendency to take Francis' breath away.  There was a moment of silence as she thought and he watched her.

"Why don't you talk to Arthur about the school hosting a Valentine's dance?" Jeanne asked finally, naming the Student Council president, "He'd listen to someone he's known his whole life, right?"

Francis grimaced.  He may have known the English boy for years, but that didn't mean Arthur would listen to him.  After a moment, however, his eyes lit up with sudden inspiration.

"Oui," he replied thoughtfully, a grin beginning to spread across his features, "I think he might be open to that idea."

Now Francis found himself in the empty hallway, brought back to the current moment by the sound of the bell going off over his head.

He straightened up and waited until he spotted the messy blond hair and thick eyebrows of his sometimes-friend.  He darted into the crowd and pulled Arthur away from his Japanese and American friends, dragging him back over to the wall.

"What the--!?  Let go of me, Frog!" Arthur snapped, trying to pry Francis' fingers off his arm.

Francis rolled his eyes, ignoring the other's protests.  "I have an idea for you, mon ami," he told the Brit, speaking over his protests.

Arthur snorted, glaring suspiciously up at the older French boy.  His attempts to free his captive limb continued.

"I don't want to hear anything you have to say," the shorter boy growled, his green eyes flashing.

"This school should have a Valentine's dance," Francis stated, ignoring Arthur's protests.

Arthur rolled his eyes.  He was used to the French boy's constant efforts to encourage romance at school, and part of him felt as if he had a personal mission to stop Francis.  He opened his mouth to tell Francis off when the French boy put a finger to his lips, leaning in conspiratorially.

"This could work to your advantage as well, you know," the long-haired blond murmured, his eyes flicking up to something over his head.

Arthur turned to follow his gaze, his face heating up when his eyes landed on his American friend, Alfred F. Jones.  His gaze returned to Francis to find a pleased and knowing look waiting for him.

Arthur scowled.  "A-absolutely not!" he snapped, determined not to let Francis find an advantage.  If Alfred didn't know how Arthur felt, no one else needed to either.

Francis raised his eyebrows, sending a feeling of dread flooding through Arthur.  Before the Brit could stop him, he looked up and called, "Alfred!  Could you come here for a moment?"

The American, looking surprised, complied.  Arthur, on the other hand, continued to glare daggers at the smirking Francis.

"Hey Francis," Alfred greeted with one of his typical, bright smiles, "Whataya need?"

"It's tragic, really," Francis began dramatically, schooling his face into an exaggeratedly disappointed expression, "You see, I think this school could use something to lift our spirits after a dreary winter--a dance, perhaps.  Alas, it seems our great and powerful Student Council president would prefer to add more rain to our already dark days."

Arthur sputtered, trying to formulate a response, but neither seemed to be listening to him.  Alfred's eyes widened for a moment and the color seemed to drain from his face, but he quickly recovered and turned to face Arthur.  Arthur let out an internal groan at the eagerness on his face.

"Please, Artie?" Alfred begged, using the nickname despite knowing Arthur hated it, "I think it would be a great idea!  I'll help you decorate and everything!"

Arthur could feel his resolve weakening under the intense blue gaze.  He could still see Francis smirking at him from the corner of his eye, but Alfred's presence lessened the blow.  Finally, he let out a long-suffering sigh.

"No aliens, alright?" he grumbled finally, shooting Francis another glare as he and Alfred cheered.  After a few moments of being ignored once his consent had been obtained, Arthur crossed his arms over his chest and stomped away to meet Lukas and Vladimir, the other Student Council heads.

Once Arthur was out of sight, Francis slung an arm over Alfred's shoulders, pulling him in close.

"Good luck with that one, mon ami," he murmured into the American's ear.

Alfred blushed but grinned up at Francis, nodding.

"Thanks," he breathed sheepishly.

"Non, thank you," Francis replied with a grin, "But for once, I'm going to agree with Arthur--no aliens."