A/N: This is a short little SpaMano Mother's Day fic. My first SpaMano fic ever, and I'm so proud of it. I love how emotionally-awkward Romano is, and I love how it's so hard for him to express his feelings. I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you have fun reading it. Enjoy. :)

He didn't understand why he was even in the damned store in the first place. He didn't understand why he was looking at this damned ugly tomato-shaped kitchen timer (well, he kept grumbling to himself that it was "the most hideous fucking thing he's ever fucking seen," but on the inside he was squealing just as much as China squealed over Hello Kitty). He didn't understand why he kept unconsciously reaching towards the timer, only to yank his hand back when his fingertips brushed the bright red surface. The only thing he understood was that it had everything to do with Spain.

He scowled at the tomato timer, his eyes narrowing dangerously. His fingers twitched by his side, aching to wrap themselves around the timer's smooth surface.

"Is there anything I can assist you with, sir?" chirped a cheery voice from behind Romano. He turned to see a friendly sales clerk, her hands clasped in front of her. Her bright smile twinkled in the fluorescent lighting.

Romano remained silent, glancing over his shoulder at the timer on the shelf.

"Would you like to purchase that, sir?" The sales clerk asked when she had seen his eyes land on the timer, moving over to stand beside him. The white teeth showing through her toothy smile could be seen out of the corner of Romano's eye.

He grunted. "I need an excuse." He wanted to buy the stupid (not-so-stupid) thing, but he didn't want Spain to know he'd bought it for the sole reason of having thought about the energetic, tomato-loving Spaniard when he'd seen it. That'd be so... out of character for him, and he feared Spain might expect more random, just-because surprises like that from him.

The sales clerk giggled. "Mother's Day is in a week," she offered helpfully.

Mother's Day... Romano thought, chewing on his bottom lip. Would he be offended if I got him a gift for Mother's Day?

"Would you like to purchase that?" chirped the sales clerk again, her beaming smile growing wider.

Oh, who the fuck cares if he gets offended? He's lucky I thought about his tomato bastard ass at all, Romano thought, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around the timer. The plastic was cool, like a real tomato fresh off the vine. Struggling to hide his smile, Romano followed the girl to the counter on the other side of the store.

"I could wrap the present for you here, if you would like," offered the sales clerk after she had rung up the timer.

Romano thought about it, then shook his head. He wanted to do it himself.

"We have small boxes you could put it in, if you prefer that." The sales clerk pulled several small boxes out from underneath the counter and lined them up beside the cash register.

Romano eyed the boxes, judging each one critically with narrowed eyes. He opened his mouth to decline the assortment of boxes as well, but then he spotted one that was the deep green of tomato vines, and he had to have it.

"This one," he said, grabbing the box and holding it up beside the timer.

The sales clerk giggled. "Good choice. It matches your tomato!" Romano blushed as she filled the box with tissue paper. The tomato kitchen timer sat beautifully in the center.

Romano hid the box inside his jacket as he exited the store and made his way home, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

Romano avoided Spain until Mother's Day. He didn't like it, but that was the only way he'd be able to hide the fact that he got him a present. Even though the box was stored safely in his sock drawer at home, Spain always seemed to be able to read his mind. Romano was sure that Spain would use that mind-reading ability of his to find out that Romano had bought him a present, and that he'd ruin the surprise by finding out what that present was.

So he avoided him.

He avoided him so obviously, too. Italy had come up to him several times during the week to ask if he and Spain were fighting and when they would make up. Usually, when Italy talked to Romano about his relationship with Spain, the Southern Italian grew cross, but for the past week, Romano's heart would ache. He really did miss the bastard, but he didn't want him to find out that he'd been thinking of him while they weren't physically together.

Finally - finally - it was Mother's Day. Romano had to force himself not to bounce on the balls of his feet in anticipation (he told himself that he was only anxious because he was irritated at having to wait so long outside) as he waited for Spain to open the door. He'd heard him call out "I'll be there in a moment. Patience, por favor" about five minutes ago.

Spain finally threw open the door after a few more minutes of impatient waiting, a beaming smile on his face. "Roma!" He exclaimed joyously, pulling Romano into a bone-crushing hug.

"G-get off me, you bastard," Romano grumbled, struggling half-heartedly against Spain's arms.

"Not until I get a real hug from you, Roma~" Spain sang.

Reluctantly (but not really), Romano wrapped his arms loosely around Spain's waist. He buried his face in the Spaniard's chest, inhaling deeply. As always, Spain smelled of freshly-picked tomatoes and summer. Slowly, Romano tightened his grip, taking care not to crush the box hidden inside his pocket between their bodies.

It was Spain who pulled away first, much to Romano's surprise. He was usually the one to shove the Spaniard away, snapping at him for squeezing him too tight or for not letting him go when he wanted (not really) to get away. Romano felt the ever-present anger bubbling in his veins, but he repressed it as best he could, shouldering his way past Spain and into the house.

"Romano, you've been avoiding me," he heard Spain mumble behind him. Romano halted at the heartbreaking tone in Spain's voice. Honestly, he hadn't even thought about how his avoiding Spain would affect the other nation. He had been too worried about giving away the surprise, had been too focused on not looking into the Spaniard's eyes whenever he had attempted to talk to Romano.

Romano's fingers brushed against the corners of the box inside his jacket pocket. Should I give it to him now…? Romano thought, his heart aching at the way Spain's voice cracked as he continued talking.

"You just stopped talking to me, and I didn't know what I did wrong. I mean, yeah, you've always been temperamental, but you wouldn't even look at me. I was afraid that… afraid that…" Spain stammered. His voice cracked again, and Romano couldn't take it. He flung himself around and threw his body against Spain's, wrapping his arms tightly around the Spaniard's waist.

"Shut up and stop crying, you bastard, I had my reasons," Romano mumbled against Spain's chest. He breathed deeply again, willing the man to stop sniffling and hug him back.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Spain lifted his arms and wrapped them tightly around Romano's shoulders. "What reasons could you have possibly had? Did I upset you or something and not realize I did it? Roma, I'm so confused." Voice thick with tears, Spain's arms tightened around Romano's shoulders, bony wrists digging painfully into his shoulder blades.

Romano loosened his grip on Spain's waist and reached into his jacket pocket. Now is as good a time as ever, he thought as he dug the box out of his pocket and handed it up to Spain.

A sniffle. "Wha-?"

"I saw it in a store," was Romano's only response.

Spain held the box in front of him, studying it. "But why?" His tears were gone now, replaced by a twinkling light in his green eyes and a goofy grin on his face.

"It's Mother's Day."

Spain blinked and chuckled. "But I'm not a girl, Roma~ and I'm not your mother, either."

Romano's cheeks burned red in embarrassment, and he struggled to control his temper as he snapped, "Just shut up and open it, bastard. I needed an excuse."

Spain laughed as he opened the box, peering into it with a glint in his eyes. "Oh, Roma!" He squealed, lifting the timer out of the box and rubbing it against his cheek. "It's a little tomato!" Spain pulled Romano into a hug and peppered his face with kisses, grinning madly and cooing lovingly at him in Spanish.

Romano didn't bother fighting against the hug. Instead, he welcomed Spain's affections and returned them, in Italian. "I'll use it all the time, Roma," Spain promised, rubbing his cheek against Romano's.

"You better, bastard," Romano grumbled, squeezing his arms tighter around Spain's waist. "You always forget when things are in the oven. I'm tired of you burning my cuisine."

Spain scoffed playfully and kissed the top of Romano's head. "Of course, mi tomate," Spain cooed. "Never again."

Romano fought off a smile as he buried his face in Spain's chest.

A/N: Sorry the ending is so rushed, but I really didn't know how to end it. But anyway~ that was my Mother's Day fic, and I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you thought of it, okay? Happy Mother's Day :)