~The following is some drabble I decided to write a while ago. Time to get typing I suppose. Mature themes and all that- no smex this time though… just implied sex, relationships and other stuff.~

-Turkey's POV-

She moved about like a wraith, so very fluid. The golden-brown hair that she kept up was so soft, and the ringlets that framed her face were always curled perfectly, like one of the cats her son loved so much. She was moving about the yard like she was dancing, olive green eyes focused on the sheets she was folding absentmindedly. There was a large cat following her now, its stripes indicating that it must be a tiger of some kind.

But that would be implying that Otto was watching the cat- and his eyes were only for her- the way she moved, as if she was in a dream, the way she kept tucking the escaping ringlets behind her ears only to have them fall back in place by the sides of her beautifully sculpted face… He sighed to himself, a smile gracing his dark face. Then he glanced around, making sure no one had just seen the sign of weakness. Good. Nobody had followed him on the… scouting… mission. That's what he insisted these outings were.

In reality, these scouting missions were an excuse for him to spy on Greece… Although, now that she had a son… Otto grimaced at the thought of the son… her son was Greece now… which made the beautiful nymph in front of him… Ancient Greece. Otto smirked. She was so fiery when riled. And calling her Ancient Greece, that was sure to get him a slap, a dark glance, and invited into the house reluctantly.

This train of thought processed, he got up, and headed down the hill towards the large, pantheon-like house the Ancient country called her own. It was with a childish glee he straightened his mask and knocked on the door, composing himself just in time as she opened the door.

"Huzzo Grecia. How are you?" His usual smirk would not leave his lips.

"Just fine Otto. And why is your sorry Turkish ass in the neighborhood?" Greece raised one of her eyebrows, her olive green eyes clearly joking, but her tone was severe. She was holding a basket full of clean cloth, with she held against her hip.

"Juzt came along to call in. And alert you of your new name." He grinned now.

She rolled her eyes. "Otto, don't you dare call me-"

"Congratulationz Ancient Greece." HE put emphasis on the Ancient part of it, ducking her hand but not remembering her legs. IT took the great Ottoman Empire a moment to recover from being kicked in the stomach, and he staggered off to the side for a moment. She watched him, sighing audibly.

"Come in Otto. Heavens knows you'll find the backyard and break in anyhow." He tone was playful, matching her eyes now. It lit up her face like nothing else. Turkey brought himself inside, already recovering from being kicked in the stomach, and deposited himself on the couch she designated for visitors. HE stretched himself out, only slightly hoping Grecia wouldn't accidently turn him on- this would be the reason for the quickest position change in history.

She was walking out of her kitchen now, holding a large bottle of wine(to him, it looked like a vase), and two small goblets. She placed one in front of him on the small table between the couches and one in front of her as she sat, pouring out a measured amount of wine before stretching out on her couch- how she did that so beautifully while still being completely covered was beyond him- and watching him carefully. Her cats were quick to appear from the recesses of the house and join her, lying on her, behind her, beside her, and under the couch. The tiger curled up next to the couch, right in front of her so she could pet it lazily.

"So here you are again Otto…" She smiled, shaking her head and chuckling. The playful tone had a coy edge to it. Grecia was sharper than you'd think. "What are we going to do with you hmm? One would think you didn't just come for the wine and stories my friend." Her laugh was like the chiming of bells, and she curled a ringlet of hair around her finger. Turkey abruptly changed position. His laugh was unconvincing.

"What are you talking about, I love you(this had a weird accent that made it sound like he was saying your) stories- and ze wine is alwayz exzellent. " He took his goblet from the table, toasting her wordlessly and drinking up. She smiled, drinking from her own goblet with a slightly coy smile on her face. AS she put the goblet down, she lowered her eyes to a mewing cat, giving it the attention it wanted. Turkey let his own eyes roam.

He wasn't sure if he liked her better with the obscene belly or slim like this… that scoundrel Rome probably had a preference. He scowled to himself, eyes still tracing her curves. How did she do it? She was so fit… and beautiful… and calm, gentle… the lovely ladies of his harem were beautiful too, he conceded, but not like Grecia. Not in the same way. The same… pale… delightful… graceful way… HE ran his tongue over his lips then blinked, silently admonishing himself. He glanced at her face, almost checking to see if she had seen, but she had not- he was quite sure, but you never knew with those sparkling eyes- as she was focused on the cat's tummy she was rubbing. She laughed again and Turkey shifted uncomfortably. It was that laugh that bothered him the most, really…

Their companionable silence was interrupted by a quiet wailing. Turkey blinked slightly, confused for a moment before standing with Grecia. She raised an eyebrow and him and swept off down the hall. Her house was like a labyrinth, and the Turk could never seen to get back to where he was going… but as silence settled over the house again, Turkey stood, unsettled by the cats' glares. HE made to follow her quickly, finding his way by following the musical, lilting voice that carried through the house…

Grecia was singing to her little son, cradling him in her arms lovingly as he suckled. That was when Turkey stiffened as he silently leaned against the doorway. If her son was suckling… he hadn't even noticed her back was bare… the smooth curve of her shoulders and toned shoulder blades…. He should move before she turned… before he glimpsed more of her than he –

Too late.

She turned, face still turned downwards as she sang, the gentle sound of baby Greece sucking away the only other noise. Otto knew he should turn away, really, but there was the part of him that was malicious, that delighted in abusing his harem, the part that ached for this woman that made him stay and watch. In seconds he had a clear view of her chest as he scampered around the corner like a small child. He pressed his back against the wall, feeling as if he had had a close call of some kind… heart racing… mind thunderstruck… HE admonished himself once again- he had seen plenty of women before, females much… larger than Grecia was… but there was still something about glimpsing the Greek that set him on fire. HE retraced his steps dreamily through the labyrinth, ignoring the cat's all too knowing looks as he lay back down on the couch, taking a small sip from his goblet, the image of her there with her son plastered to the walls of his mind.

When she returned, she acted no different and began telling stories at his request, both of them talking long into the night…

but there was really only one thing on Turkey's mind as he rode home that night…