Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.
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Spending time with Spain requires an inhuman amount of patience and energy. While Spain might initially say on the way out of the house that the destination is an outdoor market, it would not be out of character for him to stop at a little café and have a cup of coffee while chatting it up with the pretty waitress on the job. In fact, in that case, make that two cups of coffee. Afterwards, he might be attracted by the smell of laundry coming from a laundromat and lounge around exchanging pleasantries with the housewives folding sheets and towels. If there were any street performers along the way, he'd spare no second thought to stop and watch and cheer loudly, persuading passerbys to contribute to the performer's cause. Stores were also a hazard, as anything shiny or interesting in the shop window merited exploration by means of entering the store and investigating for long periods of time. If they were lucky, they'd reach the outdoor market by the time the sun began setting, but that was only in optimal circumstances.
Romano has been dealing with Spain for centuries now, though, so it isn't any surprise anymore.
Today, the endgame is a street fair, though Romano figures the best parts of that isn't until later at night when Spain's people are little more inebriated, so he isn't really upset that they stop at a local park to sit for hours. The housewives that bring their children to frolic around pay them no mind, sitting on a bench under a tree to trade gossip. It's sunny today and cool under good shade, and not the weather to be acting grumpy so Romano allows himself to stay cool and watch the pinpricks of light dancing on the grass from the filtered sun from the leaves overhead. Spain has sprawled himself all over the bench and has been sighing in peace periodically.
"Don't you wish this kind of thing never ended?" he said wistfully. Romano keeps a safe distance from him on the bench. Spain has been infamously known to hang on others and write ballads, so he's got to be careful.
One of the children comes over to Romano, seemingly interested in his impeccable casual style and asks shyly if he'd like to play knights and dragons with them. To think a child would consider him in their little games! It flusters Romano. He's torn between swearing in frustration (he isn't little!) and giving in against his nature. Spain rises to the challenge though, drawing himself up to full height and announcing, "I shall slay every dragon for you, young sir!"
The little group, consisting of several young boys and girls, run around with Spain, brandishing twigs and sticks acting as gleaming swords and rough clubs. Spain looks everything like a young bachelor, and he looks just as carefree and foolish as the children, so the mothers merely admire his looks and call brief warnings not to hurt each other. Romano watches as Spain gathers the girls, all playing princesses, behind him and vows to protect them. They giggle as a boy darts forward and stabs Spain in the stomach with a stick. Spain goes down gracefully.
Romano watches passively from the bench, thinking about how long it's been since he's taken up any kind of sword – and they've all been real swords – and played pretend fight with Spain. They were all fun and games at first, nothing that Romano could ever associate with the battle wounds Spain used to come home with, until he reached a point when losing one of these pretend fights made Spain yell at him and apologize later after a tense dinner, saying that if Romano didn't learn to fight, he'd get hurt. He's learned now, though. He can defend himself now. That was a long time ago.
Spain comes back, leaves in his hair and a smear of dirt on his slacks, but a huge grin on his face. "They had to go home," he said happily, gesturing back where the mothers are ushering their children off. "It's time for snacks. Let's go get snacks too!"
"You're good with kids," Romano sniffs, as Spain sits down next to him to brush himself off. Those sticks couldn't cause those scars on his arms, scars that several ages couldn't remove. Kids can play fight now because things are different, and Spain doesn't have to wear a pained expression when he sees them, like he used to.
"I like children," Spain says innocently, smiling like he always does. He leans in to whisper in Romano's ear. "I like children," he repeats, though it sounds different and sends a shiver up Romano's spine. "That's why I'm with you, whom I have always associated with that little boy who used to swear and sleep all over my house."
Romano drags him over to a covered picnic area in the park and kisses him viciously, and Spain laughs, saying I would never go for those children back there though. "Pedofilo," Romano whispers, hot against Spain's lips, and pushes him away. He hears Spain's laughter behind him, ringing like it's always been, and flees.
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Note: Sorry i'm not sorry