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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(Re)union of (Un)convenience
Belgium wasn't even the oldest (she sometimes wondered why she wasn't), but she was up earlier than both her bothersome, high maintenance brothers and was currently embarking on the close-to-impossible task of rousing the two of them to a state of awareness. "Come on, you two. Just get up."
At first, she had thought the idea of Holland and Luxembourg sharing a bed was cute; a touching picture of brotherly bonding. But it was proving to have been a bad idea; if Holland wasn't moving, Luxembourg, no matter how much he was awake, wasn't going to budge to please his sister. Belgium was secretly irked that Luxembourg would play favorites and go with the most juvenile choice, but she still held considerable power over him and wouldn't complain.
"We're up," Netherlands mumbled, swatting at her in a way that suggested he wasn't as sleepy as he appeared.
"Good. I want you two up and in the shower as soon as possible." Belgium thumped the bed again, making Netherlands grumble before turning over and Luxembourg's eyes shoot open to see how far along his brother was before catching Belgium's eyes and quickly closing them again.
After showering herself, Belgium barged into her brothers' room again and threw her hands up at the sight of Holland still dozing and Luxembourg mimicking his rebellion. "You two are impossible! What do I have to do to get you two up?"
"Canceling the damn meeting would be nice," Holland suggested, his voice clear of sleep despite his reclining position. Luxembourg called his approval but Belgium drowned out his voice.
"It's not a meeting, first of all. Don't be immature. Spain took care of you for a long time! The least we can do is have a reunion now and then. I don't know about you, but I didn't mind the Hapsburg rule very much."
"That is because you are a simpleton, sister," Holland retorted, opening his eyes to look at his sister, who was fuming at him. "You didn't mind at all because someone told you what to do and it was the same everyday."
"Yeah, and we weren't even Spain's favorite," Luxembourg chimed in.
"Shut it, Lux," Belgium warned. "Don't pretend you were there. Come on, Holly. You don't have to make this difficult."
Netherlands scoffed at her before turning his back on her. "Well, I'm not getting up."
There were a few moments of silence before the house exploded with sound, with shrieks and orders from Belgium and protests and yells from Holland. Luxembourg leapt from the fray and dashed to the bathroom as Belgium wrestled Holland from the bed, pulling hair and biting faces. He may have swore his loyalty to his brother, but when it came down to it, he didn't want to get on the bad side of his sister.
Luxembourg thought he looked rather cute in the warm light blue sweater Belgium picked out for him (she claimed a thirteen year old wouldn't know what to wear to a proper reunion like this and with her foul mood this morning, he wasn't going to complain), but he put on a sulky face to mirror Holland, who was slouching in the foyer with a red, blue, and white tie haphazardly tied around his neck.
"Oh, stop throwing a tantrum, silly," Belgium said, rolling her eyes as she tightened Holland's tie. Luxembourg thought his sister looked very pretty today with her nice blouse and pencil skirt and fancy green ribbon but knew better than to say anything about it. Holland would surely give him smack for being a suck-up or worse yet – a sister's boy. "You're supposed to be the oldest here."
"Yeah, I'm oldest, but my opinion doesn't count for anything," Netherlands grumped, shooting a look at Luxembourg as if it was his fault.
"Don't blame your brother, stupid. Now chin up. I want to see a smile if you want to keep growing those damned tulips of yours."
"You wouldn't pull them out now!"
"Watch me, buster." Smiling at Luxembourg, Belgium clapped her hands. "Now how should we get to Madrid?"
Luxembourg's face lit up. "The Vespa!"
Holland rolled his eyes, pulling the tie looser around his neck as Belgium's attention was astray. "We can barely fit us all on, with how fat Belgium is, and that snot-nosed brat will probably come in his."
"If we tie Netherlands to the back on roller skates, we can probably manage," Belgium agreed, looking quite serious about the suggestion. "And anyway, it's just through France's house," she said, giving Netherlands a pointed look. He sputtered but before he could make anything of it, she had started running toward the garage, with Luxembourg in tow.
"I wanna drive!"
"Lux, your legs barely reach to where they should. I'll do the honors."
"Where will Holland sit?"
Belgium was revving up the engine to the bike as Netherlands moped his way into the garage, leaning against the black car of Belgium's boss and tapping its hood to try to divert attention toward the more saner way of travel. Belgium plucked Luxembourg from the ground and put him in front of her before sliding a helmet over his head. "Don't just sulk there," she smirked, sliding a green helmet over her head. "Plop your ass down behind me."
"How unorthodox," Netherlands muttered, taking the pink helmet Belgium handed over to him and reluctantly sitting behind his sister, taking a deep breath and gingerly putting his arms around her. He had long past the stage of 'girls have cooties' but he liked to at least pretend he did; annoyed Belgium some. He didn't know how she was planning on driving the thing in heels, but he'd learned not to question her sometimes.
"Don't be chauvinist," Belgium yelled, before suddenly rocketing the three of them out of the garage and into the road. Netherlands swore; a collection of words tossed soundlessly into the wind. His sister drove too fast for his liking.
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"What should we get him as a present?"
They had gotten into Madrid early; Belgium had gunned it down the countryside of France, speeding enough to escape France's clutches (for a moment there, Netherlands wondered if the perverted nation could actually catch up with them, but of course, machinery won in the end) and landing the three of them standing around the Spanish city. Belgium was poking around the various stores.
"How about flowers?" Holland suggested as Luxembourg looked around next to him.
"Why flowers?"
"Because flowers die." He snickered as Luxembourg twittered amusedly next to him. Belgium shot them both a look.
"I was thinking chocolates."
"Of course you were."
"Everyone likes a box of chocolates." Belgium held out a hand. "Wallet, please, Holland."
"Whoa, you wanted to get him something; use your own money."
"Wow, where's the man who thought he should drive the Vespa? Now you're too cheap to buy a box of chocolates. No wonder you don't have a girlfriend."
"All the girls I know are old," Holland sniffed. "I wouldn't mind a good teenaged girl, you know. I like them on the young side."
"I know, pedophile," Belgium sighed. "Lux, I'll let you ride on the handlebars if you get it."
Before he could blink, Holland found himself felt up by his own brother (his own brother could you believe it?) and de-walleted as Luxembourg rushed over to Belgium, waving the piece of expensive leather in the air. She took it from him with manicured nails and smirked at Holland. "I guess since it's on you, I should buy the best. To show our thanks."
"I hope you fall off and die, little brother," Netherlands growled, smacking Luxembourg across the head. The boy just laughed and trailed after his sister, making a face at Holland.
--
When they got to Spain's house, Romano was already there, wandering aimlessly through the tomato plants. Antisocial as always, Netherlands thought to himself as Belgium held out her arms for a hug Spain eagerly returned. Those two were just too emotional for their own good.
"Here you go, Boss!" Luxembourg chirped, as if he hadn't whined about the trip at all that morning with his brother as he held out the box of chocolates. Spain accepted them with a smile and more snatches of small talk.
"I'm so glad you came! It's always fun to spend time with you three."
"At least one of us feels that way," Netherlands muttered into his hand before Belgium elbowed him in the gut. As he sank down clutching his stomach, he spotted Luxembourg staring glassy-eyed up at Spain and knew his brother was no more eager to be there than he was.
"Hey, Lux," he whispered. Luxembourg glanced back at him, then up at Belgium who was chatting with Spain again, then hopped on over. "How much you wanna bet that Spain and Romano aren't an item yet?"
Luxembourg clasped a hand over his mouth. "Belgium said we weren't allowed to bring it up this morning, remember?"
"Yeah, that's probably because they aren't." The two of them glanced over at Romano, who was watching Spain and Belgium chat animatedly. He had still not gone over to say hello yet. "Please. I swear, they're never going to be honest with each other. It was annoying to watch during Hapsburg, but now even more so."
"I think they are," Luxembourg insisted.
"What makes you think that?" Holland had switched so he was sitting cross-legged in front of Luxembourg. When his brother shrugged, he held out a hand. "One week of Belgium's desserts says they're not."
Luxembourg's eyes narrowed. This was not an ordinary bet; Belgium was a mean dessert chef. Her house was in such close proximity of France's that she occasionally went and cooked with him (she usually came back prematurely and fuming, but she'd gotten her recipes and that's all that mattered). But he extended his hand too, taking his brother's. "You're on. But you're losing, if you want to know."
"Don't expect Belgium to help you out here."
"She won't have to." And before Netherlands could ask why, Luxembourg had skipped away and pulled at Spain's arm.
"Boss," he said as Belgium and Spain looked down at him. "Are you and Romano more than friends?"
Netherlands considered trying to hold his laughter in, as not to give himself away, but the bluntness of his brother's question made him grip his sides again and roll around with chuckles. Belgium shot him a look before tapping her brother on the shoulder in warning. "Now, Lux, don't ask a question like that…"
By then, Romano's curiosity had gotten the better of him and he had wandered over, shooting a dismissive look at Belgium. Spain stared at Luxembourg for a moment before breaking out in a grin. "Well, Luxembourg, why don't you ask him yourself?"
But at Romano's arrival, Luxembourg had gotten shy again and shook his head, hiding behind Belgium. Spain shook the question from his mind and was starting on his way to the car with Romano in tow. Belgium turned back to Netherlands.
"Will you behave?" she hissed, pushing Luxembourg toward the car. "Try and act your age!"
"I didn't ask him to ask!" Netherlands protested.
"Yes, he did," Luxembourg said.
Belgium shot Holland a dark look but said no more as she slid into the car next to her brother. Holland stared up at the sky, hoping for the gods to be kind and take him out of his misery now, but when no hand of fate came to pick him out, he sighed and went into the car next to his sister.
--
She couldn't believe her luck. Not only was Holland being courteous and making small talk with Spain (she supposed beggars couldn't be choosers and couldn't wipe the look of dislike on her brother's face, but whatever). Luxembourg was not throwing food and sitting nicely next to her. Romano was not swearing every other minute and giving her dirty looks, although she was sure that he had muttered something her direction when he noticed she and Spain were talking earlier. And Spain, of course, was oblivious.
The restaurant was a nice place. No one looked at them twice and the atmosphere was generally happy, just like the nation himself. Belgium was starting to think her luck had turned and she might start buying lotto tickets when she felt a shoe touch hers and slide between her legs.
In surprise, she glanced up; but Holland would rather gouge his eyes out than touch his sister and Luxembourg's feet weren't long enough to reach the ground. Romano was right next to her and to touch her like that was physically impossible. She rested her eyes on Spain before turning back to her food.
"Boss, Romano's just a bit next to me, on my right, your left."
At this, Spain and her brothers looked up at her, the former blankly and the latter bewilderedly. But Spain broke out in a grin. "Is that so? I'm sorry." And Romano, who was frowning in confusion, quickly caught on, his face flushing red from zero to sixty as Belgium felt Spain's foot shift. Luxembourg lifted the tablecloth indiscreetly.
"Oh, that's hardly appropriate," he said loudly, to which Romano sputtered and stormed away from the table and Spain quickly tried to follow and reason with him. Netherlands looked torn between anger and humor; Luxembourg was smiling satisfactedly at him. Belgium turned to them, opening her mouth to scold them for being so childish but bursting out laughing instead.
"That was funny, wasn't it?"
"Hilarious," Holland agreed, a smirk tugging on his lips.
"You shouldn't have asked that, though," she chastised, still grinning, as she pushed Luxembourg playfully.
"You wanted to know too, sis!"
"You think they're going to make out now or something?"
Spain had just considered a victory – he had just calmed Romano down enough outside – and was pulling the blushing Italian closer when there was a chorus of giggles and the two turned to see Belgium shoving a hand over her mouth, Netherlands grinning mockingly at the two of them, and Luxembourg gaping at them like he'd never seen them before. Of course, this made Romano storm off once more and the whole cycle to repeat itself.
"It wasn't so bad, was it?" Belgium asked as she walked arm in arm with Holland back to the table to doggie-bag the rest of the food. Luxembourg had been scrambling to grab a handful of mints.
"I guess not," Holland mused, helping his sister collect the food in Styrofoam boxes. "But I suppose it wasn't worth losing dessert over."
Owari
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Note: What the FrUk. I wanted to write a Tomato Trio (Spain, Romano, Belgium) fic but I also wanted the Bel/Neth/Lux siblings too…it's my first time writing them. Please be gentle with me. I felt weird writing Netherlands so I switched back and forth…no research was done, I may be wrong… The 'flowers die' is a line from a skit my friend was in. I've had so many pairings I've wanted to write about these past few days but no inspiration to let them in…I'm growing tomatoes…what the FrUk. Review, please.