[fan fic] The Things I Do For You
Title: The Things I Do For You
Characters/Parings: Canada and an OC, lots of little countries mentioned. Implied Canada/Ukraine.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: For the ridiculous content.
Summary: Travel brouchures = Nation's Playboy magazine. So, basically, Canada goes on a porn run for his family.
Notes: There were ficlet, dialogue-only responses to comments in the original post, which I won't be reposting here for simplicity's sake.
Daisy Jackson leaned over her computer and ignored the ringing phone for once, trying not to glance up at the young man who'd just entered the room. Or rather, the young man she assumed had just entered the room. She hadn't heard him come in and had only noticed his entry when she glanced up to the poster of Fiji she'd put up in order to convince herself to keep working. He turned to the poster, flushed and vibrant shade of red, and looked at his shoes.
He's kind of cute, Daisy decided. Not cute enough to actively pursue, maybe, but she would definitely give him a second glance. Maybe a third if there was no other eye candy in the area.
"U-Uh..." He looked up at her, his face brilliant red.
He sort of looks like this is his first time in a sex shop, Daisy considered, remembering her own first time gazing something labelled both "HALF-PRICE!" and "EDIBLE!".
"Bonjour," the young man squeaked helplessly.
"Je ne parle pas Français," she said professionally. For all the years she'd lived in Canada and the year of French she'd taken in high school, that was still the only phrase she believed she'd need.
"I, er, speak English, too," he mumbled, his accent flawlessly Anglophone. And West Coast to boot.
"What would you like?" Daisy asked, adopting her best business voice. That was the reason she'd gotten the job in the first place. People rather liked someone who sounded professional on the other line, even if she had no idea what she was actually doing. It was soothing, apparently.
"I, uh, n-need some..." his mumbling got so soft that it was near inaudible.
"What was that?" she asked, pulling her headset away from her ear and silencing the call that was still ringing. She leaned forward a little and he took a few steps back.
"Some travel brochures," he whispered, his face a burning red.
"Oh, well, that's not a problem. Where are you considering?"
"U-Uh, they're not mine, actually, it's for my brother," he replied. The poor boy seemed vastly flustered by this. Perhaps he was just really shy? Daisy couldn't imagine even the quietest shrinking violet blushing over travel brochures. "H-He wants some o-of Fa--of England."
"Any region in particular?" Daisy asked, leaning down and shuffling through the British brochures to find one exclusive to England.
"J-Just one full of good pictures," he said.
"How about this one?" Daisy asked, holding one out with a picture of rolling green hills. The young man blushed and averted his eyes, but took the large magazine anyways.
"Hope Alfred is satisfied with this..." he grumbled, tucking it under his arm, the picture hidden against his red bunnyhug.
"Is that all?" she asked pleasantly, her nerves wearing thin. Cute or not, Daisy didn't like shy boys too much.
"U-Uh, J-J-Jack wanted one of Fiji," he added. Daisy sighed and went into the back room to find a good magazine for Fiji.
In the end Alfred got one of England, Jack received a magazine for Fiji and another one of Singapore, Stanley (he almost said Pakistan, and that baffled Daisy to no end) got one of India, and "Pop" was going to receive a think book full of pictures of French Polynesia.
"Th-Thank you very much," the young man mumbled. He stopped and turned back to Daisy at the door. "I-I'm sorry for troubling you, but I think I forgot one."
Daisy's smile was fake and more than a little frightening, but she help strong. "Of course. Where?"
"U-U-U... Ukraine," he mumbled.
"For yourself?" Daisy asked lightly, turning her chair to the back for the magazines for the last time.
"N-No!" he protested. "I-It's for my brother!" He was a terrible liar, but Daisy didn't comment. She wanted him out as soon as possible. She handed it over and he tucked it under the arm with all the others. His face was still a burning red.
"Thank you very much, have a nice day!" Daisy called. The young man opened the door and left, and someone boisterously called, "Matt! You got the goods!" while the door swung closed. Daisy massaged her temples, slouched in her chair, unmuted the phone, and answered the call.
Characters/Parings: Canada and an OC, lots of little countries mentioned. Implied Canada/Ukraine.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: For the ridiculous content.
Summary: Travel brouchures = Nation's Playboy magazine. So, basically, Canada goes on a porn run for his family.
Notes: There were ficlet, dialogue-only responses to comments in the original post, which I won't be reposting here for simplicity's sake.
Daisy Jackson leaned over her computer and ignored the ringing phone for once, trying not to glance up at the young man who'd just entered the room. Or rather, the young man she assumed had just entered the room. She hadn't heard him come in and had only noticed his entry when she glanced up to the poster of Fiji she'd put up in order to convince herself to keep working. He turned to the poster, flushed and vibrant shade of red, and looked at his shoes.
He's kind of cute, Daisy decided. Not cute enough to actively pursue, maybe, but she would definitely give him a second glance. Maybe a third if there was no other eye candy in the area.
"U-Uh..." He looked up at her, his face brilliant red.
He sort of looks like this is his first time in a sex shop, Daisy considered, remembering her own first time gazing something labelled both "HALF-PRICE!" and "EDIBLE!".
"Bonjour," the young man squeaked helplessly.
"Je ne parle pas Français," she said professionally. For all the years she'd lived in Canada and the year of French she'd taken in high school, that was still the only phrase she believed she'd need.
"I, er, speak English, too," he mumbled, his accent flawlessly Anglophone. And West Coast to boot.
"What would you like?" Daisy asked, adopting her best business voice. That was the reason she'd gotten the job in the first place. People rather liked someone who sounded professional on the other line, even if she had no idea what she was actually doing. It was soothing, apparently.
"I, uh, n-need some..." his mumbling got so soft that it was near inaudible.
"What was that?" she asked, pulling her headset away from her ear and silencing the call that was still ringing. She leaned forward a little and he took a few steps back.
"Some travel brochures," he whispered, his face a burning red.
"Oh, well, that's not a problem. Where are you considering?"
"U-Uh, they're not mine, actually, it's for my brother," he replied. The poor boy seemed vastly flustered by this. Perhaps he was just really shy? Daisy couldn't imagine even the quietest shrinking violet blushing over travel brochures. "H-He wants some o-of Fa--of England."
"Any region in particular?" Daisy asked, leaning down and shuffling through the British brochures to find one exclusive to England.
"J-Just one full of good pictures," he said.
"How about this one?" Daisy asked, holding one out with a picture of rolling green hills. The young man blushed and averted his eyes, but took the large magazine anyways.
"Hope Alfred is satisfied with this..." he grumbled, tucking it under his arm, the picture hidden against his red bunnyhug.
"Is that all?" she asked pleasantly, her nerves wearing thin. Cute or not, Daisy didn't like shy boys too much.
"U-Uh, J-J-Jack wanted one of Fiji," he added. Daisy sighed and went into the back room to find a good magazine for Fiji.
In the end Alfred got one of England, Jack received a magazine for Fiji and another one of Singapore, Stanley (he almost said Pakistan, and that baffled Daisy to no end) got one of India, and "Pop" was going to receive a think book full of pictures of French Polynesia.
"Th-Thank you very much," the young man mumbled. He stopped and turned back to Daisy at the door. "I-I'm sorry for troubling you, but I think I forgot one."
Daisy's smile was fake and more than a little frightening, but she help strong. "Of course. Where?"
"U-U-U... Ukraine," he mumbled.
"For yourself?" Daisy asked lightly, turning her chair to the back for the magazines for the last time.
"N-No!" he protested. "I-It's for my brother!" He was a terrible liar, but Daisy didn't comment. She wanted him out as soon as possible. She handed it over and he tucked it under the arm with all the others. His face was still a burning red.
"Thank you very much, have a nice day!" Daisy called. The young man opened the door and left, and someone boisterously called, "Matt! You got the goods!" while the door swung closed. Daisy massaged her temples, slouched in her chair, unmuted the phone, and answered the call.