Author's note: I own my story. Not Hetalia, or any of its characters :)
Oh, but if I did...*fantasizes about OTPs*
...huh? Oh, right. So this'll be a just-for-fun kind of story, as far as I can tell. I work on it in my spare time. Germanyxfem!Italy, as stated in the description. Hope you like it - reviews are always welcome.
"GERMANYYYYYY!" Germany flinched away from the phone.
"Ja, Italy, what?" he said, holding the reciever a safer distance from his ear.
"GERMANY YOU HAVE TO HELP ME I MET A GIRL WHO TOLD ME SHE HAD A NEW KIND OF PASTA FOR ME TO TRY BUT THE GIRL TURNED OUT TO BE FRANCE AND HE WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE AND HE'S REALLY BIG AND SCARY AND KEEPS-A HITTING ME ON THE HEAD NO MATTER HOW MUCH I WAVE MY WHITE FLAG AND-"
"Ja, Ja," Germany sighed, "I'll be there in a minute."
"Thank you Germany and hurry!" Italy said at an only slightly lower volume. Germany hung the phone up and sighed. He wondered if Italy would ever start defending herself. No matter how many times he saw her throw up that white flag (or rather, those white flags - she had something of a collection) it continued to baffle him. She was a descendant of Rome, for God's sake! Beyond that, she had the manpower and technology to defend herself; she simply refused to take a stand. It was infuriating.
Still, Italy and Germany were allies, and friends. And so, like always, Germany found himself donning his jacket, picking up his _typeofgun_ and heading for the door.
He made it to France's house in no time. Sure enough, they were both there, France smacking Italy across the head repeatedly while Italy babbled desperately, trying to make him notice her white flag. France seemed to be enjoying himself, chuckling at Italy's antics, and the sight stirred up an anger in Germany that was a much better motivation than the feelings of resignation he'd arrived with. He walked up to the two of them and cleared his throat. They both turned.
"Germany!" Italy cried in joy, quickly hiding behind him. "Ve, I knew you'd come for me!" France, meanwhile, was edging away, clearly terrified.
"Not so schnell, France," Germany said firmly. France turned halfway to face him, a nervous laugh escaping from his mouth.
"Heh, well 'ello, Germany!" he said. "I was just playing ah little game with my neighbor Italy here, you know she ees so cute when I smack her head and so I was just-"
"Ja, I know. You were just leaving, never to come back. Is zat right?" Germany eyed France meaningfully. France gulped.
"Ah - oui," He said, and ran off. Germany sighed.
"Alright, Italy, let's go," he began to turn around when he was suddenly thrown off-balance.
"Thanks a-bunch, mister Germany!" Italy practically tackled him from the side with a hug.
"Ja, Ja, it's fine," Germany said hurriedly, extracting himself from the happy country and turning a light shade of red. "Come on, let's go home."
"Si!" the now-cheerful Italy exclaimed, following him back to the house they shared. "You know," she added as they started walking, "France's pasta was actually alright, but he cooked it kinda strage..." she continued to babble the whole way home. Germany thought about investing in some earplugs, or maybe a muzzle.