Tossing Coins for the Boatman's Fares

by Dreamcatcher38

Since Romano left Spain and returned to Italy, he's spent a lot of time trying to clean up his country and has gotten himself into a pretty serious mess with the Italian Mafia and a certain brunette Mafia Boss. He wants to tell Spain, but can't risk Antonio being put on the Mafia's radar, or is he already? Spamano, mafia!Romano, mention of GerIta. T rating for violence not smut.

Hey Spamano fans! Have yourself a little adventure with mafia!Romano. I apologize for its length, but I promise lots of action!

This fanfiction is part of a larger "Choose Your Own Adventure" style story called "HetaVenture" on another site. But this section can stand alone on its own, so please ignore my OCs. I promise some are canon, but SPOILERS!

I also apologize for over abusing Italian. Like a lot. And most of it is probably wrong because I had to use Google Translate. But a lot of this is Romano's thoughts, and I had to get creative with the swearing.

Title: Tossing Coins for the Boatman's Fares

Summary: Since Romano left Spain and returned to Italy, he's spent a lot of time trying to clean up his country and has gotten himself into a pretty serious mess with the Italian Mafia and a certain brunette Mafia Boss. He wants to tell Spain, but can't risk Antonio being put on the Mafia's radar, or is he already? Spamano, mafia!Romano.

I hope you enjoy! And hang in there until the end. I promise we will get to Spamano! Romano's just got some unresolved issues to work through first. Translations at the end.

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Romano fixed his tie, and lowered the brim of his fedora over his eyes before making to leave, his hand on the doorknob, when a gentle hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Lovi~" Spain cooed, making Romano blush. "Where are you going?"

"Where I go every night, bastardo!" Romano swore, turning to glower at Spain from under the brim of his hat. "Now let me leave. I'm already late, cazzo!"

"Can I come, Lovi? Where is it you go all the time I come to Italia to check on mi tomate? And so finely dressed as well…" Spain asked, his eyes questioning, and taking in his expensive suit. Spain's eyes on him made Romano want to run as far away from Spain as he could, self-conscious.

"No. You cannot fucking come," Romano told him, perhaps a bit coldly, for Spain looked so broken. It tore at the Italian's heart, not like he would ever show it, and he fought to keep his usual scowl. Why did the tomato bastardo do this to me anyways? He thought. How? "And it's none of your damn business where I go at night! Now lay off me and go… go play with Feli or something."

"Awww… Why not, mi tomate Romano?" Spain whined, his grip making creases in Romano's suit. He scoffed at the Spaniard, shooing his hand away. "And Feli is visiting Ludwig tonight, don't you remember?"

It's not safe, that's why you can't fucking come bastardo, Romano thought. I can't have you tagging along and risk getting hit by the fucking mafia. And that potato bastard… Romano was trying to avoid thinking about him. He should have had the mafia put a hit on him. The German was certainly a potential risk to Italia. But his fratello loved the damn German bastardo too much. And he just couldn't do that to his fratello, no matter how much he hated the over happy jerk. Not while he selfishly protected Spain. Though after tonight, he wasn't sure Espania would be so safe.

"You're not coming, tomato bastardo," Romano muttered darkly, sneaking out the front door and continuing down the dark side of the street.

Romano let the late night rush of Roma calm him, familiar and comforting, and tried to clear his mind of Espania long enough to focus on the task at hand. It was a task he knew to be impossible, but he had to try. As if by reflex, Romano reached for his pistol, flipping it once round his finger and tucking it back into the waistband of his slacks, in assurance that he had it more than for show.

It was time to work. And the Mafia waited in the night.

Reaching the downtown street in question, Romano crossed it without looking, and tucked quietly into an alleyway on the other side of the street. He could just make out the build of a strong man tucked into the shadows by a lowered fire escape ladder, the Italian nation's expensive shoes clacking loudly against puddles and cobble stone as he approached. The man stepped out of the shadows, one of the door thugs meant to keep the unwanted from wandering where they shouldn't, but he wasn't looking at Romano, he was looking at something behind him.

"Hey Vargas," he said as the Italian boy walked up to the ladder. "Someone's tailin' you."

Romano turned, and watched the end of the alley for any sign he was being followed, but found none. Turning back to the thug, he growled. "There's no one, bastardo. You're seeing things. Stop day dreaming on your fucking watch."

"I swear on my Nonna I saw somethin', kid. You and your big profile, you're gonna get us all locked up," the thug cursed.

"Cazzo!" Romano swore, glaring darkly at the thug from under his hat, his amber eyes glowing like molten gold. "Do not forget what I am, idiota," he whispered darkly before climbing the ladder.

Swinging himself onto the rooftop, the gravel crunching under his shoes, Romano checked his gun once again, patted his back to reassure him of the other hidden there beneath his open buttoned jacket, and fiddled with the switchblade in his pocket. Loosening his tie slightly, he undid the top button on his wine red shirt, and picked a ripe red tomato growing from its plant in the roof top garden.

Here goes nothing Idiota, he thought, pulling open the fire door that lead down to the top level of the building. As he quietly descended the stairs, he replaced his usual scowl with a mysterious and seductive smirk. It felt good to be home.

Rounding familiar corners, Romano walked almost stealthily down the poorly lit hallway, making one of the door thugs jump as the nation walked into the light of a solitary lamp illuminating the narrow entryway. The two burly thugs looked out of place, crowding the limited space. With just a flash of a golden eye at the jumpy thug, Romano motioned to enter, expecting the two to step out of the path of the doorway. But only one did, the other, the jumpy one, blocked his entrance with the wave of his giant hand.

"Lost your way, kid?" he asked menacingly, but the threats of thugs barely phased Romano.

"Aldovo, no, he's cool," the other thug attempted to whisper, but the jumpy new recruit either didn't hear, or was trying to restore his pride.

"Excuse me, bastardo?" Romano asked incredulously, shifting his gaze to look at the other thug. "Are things so bad, this idiota is the best you can do?"

"You got lip on yah kid. It'll take you far, but you got no business being here," the jumpy thug, Aldovo, lectured, but Romano could already hear the musical laughter coming from behind the door. "Now run along home, before your Mamma finds you broken and bleeding in the streets."

But before Romano could slug him with all the extra strength only nations possessed, the door opened and leaning against the doorframe was a slim, curvy woman in a red dress, all hips, bust, and wavy brunette locks, the butt of her pistol sticking out from the low neckline of the dress. Romano met her envy green eyes with a familiar gaze, as she returned his mischievous smirk with one as equally sinful. Her hand on her hip, she chided the thug in a cool voice.

"This one? A child?" she sarcastically questioned, laughing musically. "Aldovo, this one knows more about what it means to be a man than you ever will with two lifetimes. Isn't that right... Lovino?"

Lifting off his hat and bowing to the woman, a habit kept from a bygone era, Romano said, "Buonasera, Signoria." Her eyes wandered up and down his slim frame, and she smirked before she addressed him.

"Vargas," she nodded. "Come, I have a job for you."

Replacing his fedora, the brim low, Romano expertly tossed the tomato from behind him and over his shoulder. He caught it with his other hand as it fell in front of him, glancing up one last time at Aldovo before he entered the room, his usual scowl on his face.

The door creaked shut behind him, and he tensed, his inner coward loathing the feeling of being trapped, even though Romano knew there were two other exits from this room, and he could take on any of the thugs with ease.

He leaned up against a table shoved into the corner of the room and placed one of his guns on the table as a show of peace. Taking a careful bite out of his tomato, he tried to sweep away thoughts of Spain, watching the lady in red round her desk on the other side of the room and glance at some papers there.

"Cercando mozzafiato come sempre, bella Maria," Romano practically breathed playing on the low tones of his smooth voice. "Hai sempre guardato bene lavati in rosso."

The room rang with Maria's soft laughter as she smiled. "Grazie, Lovino, but this is no time for jokes and flattery, not when la famiglia di Marino is so deep in rosso."

Romano stayed silent and took another bite of his tomato. Strike one, he thought.

"Marcello di Gamba," Maria continued, her face serious. "Know him?"

"Si," Romano replied. "One of the Hamburger bastard's kind; damned Americans. He has a bank down by la Piazza del Fiore."

"He's a part of an American Mafioso, and has been sticking his filthy fingers into our business. He's done all he can possibly offer us. I trust you to dispose of him." Maria suggested. Romano was one of the famiglia's top assassins. "However you wish to do it is of no concern to me, just keep it simple, I want as little to clean up as possible."

"Bella," Romano began again, lacing his voice with hurt. "That is so unlike you. You always enjoyed a good bloodbath. But consider it done."

Maria sighed. "Not even the famiglias can enjoy such luxuries these days."

Finishing his tomato, Romano stepped boldly towards her, his hand outstretched. "Is everything alright, Maria?"

She looked away, auburn locks falling across her face, her fingers drumming on the desktop in thought. "The money's tight, Lovino," she sighed, stepping forward and taking his hand, smiling half-heartedly. "I don't like it."

"Shhh… Bella," Romano cooed, gently stroking her face with his other hand and meeting her gaze. "You've been through worse. We are the Mafioso. There is little that can stop us. I learned that quickly when I returned home. You play the game, or you die fighting it."

"Mmmm… yes," she breathed, closing her eyes and leaning her head against Romano's. "I wish I could say I was sorry for that, but I'm not. I gained a skilled assassin that day. And a lover."

Something in the back of Romano's mind cringed, and he fought to keep his countenance. Yes, Maria was beautiful, but he did not love her. He only did what he needed to in order to save his neck and to keep the mafia from burning down half of Rome. Besides, it wasn't thoughts of his mafia boss he fought to keep out of his head. It was thoughts of the damn tomato bastard.

I hate this so much, Romano thought, angry with himself for what he was about to do. Just think of Espania. Yes, think of the tomato bastardo, idiota! Aren't you just a fucking genius!?

But thinking about Spain, Romano found himself wickedly smirking, and Maria opened her eyes to look at him, concerned about his lack of response.

Cazzo! Fuck it, just do it already! Romano screamed at himself in his head, as his hand that was once entwined with Maria's wound around her waist. Her eyes widened slightly then narrowed as she returned his mischievous smirk. Closing his hazel eyes, he leaned down and kissed her cherry red lips, wishing the entire time he was kissing Spain instead. She quickly melted under his touch, as he ran his other hand up and down her side, dreaming of the smell of tomatoes instead of the sharp smell of blood, rich perfume, and gunsmoke.

He broke the kiss when he felt her weaken in his arms, turning his face to the side to whisper in her ear, he said, "Bella signora, non si cura di ballare?"

Taking her hand, he led Maria around the small room in a simple dance to the music in his head. She kept her face close to his, and he whispered, "Tell me, bella Maria, what you need the maledetto Americana dead for? If you don't want a bloodbath, why make a mess? What is it you're after," Romano cursed violently in his head and tried to force the words out convincingly as he always did. "Il mio amore."

Romano met her eyes as she smiled. Halting the dance, she threw Romano against the wall and leaned against him, her hand stroking his chest, the other bracing herself across it. "I figured you were after something, Vargas," she breathed, tracing his lips with her finger. Her touch sent shivers down Romano's spine, but not the nice kind. He was afraid, afraid the way he always was when she spoke to him like this. She would do as she pleased with him, like he was her puppet, or the entire Mafioso would be hot on his tail if he resisted. It had been that way ever since he left Espania and fell into the hands of sly Signora Maria and la famiglia di Marino.

"I might tell you," she whispered, her long eyelashes fluttering as she looked down. Maledizione Dio, Romano thought. I was hoping to avoid this. How badly do you need this information? Cazzo, Tomato Bastard would kill me.

Sighing, Romano wound his arms around her thin waist once more, and tried not to tense as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Lascia che ti convinci," he breathed before meeting her lips again. You're kissing the Tomato Bastardo, danazione! Just think of that... Romano thought. He poured all his emotion for his former caretaker into the kiss, turning the tables and pinning Maria to the wall. Breaking the kiss, he heard her sigh into his ear as he trailed kisses down her jaw and neck, and prayed to whatever God would help a forsaken hitman that she would let him free soon before he ceased to believe his imaginations.

Thankfully, something heard his prayers, as she gently pushed him away from her, saying, "Mio dio, Lovino. But enough of that, there's work to attend to. You've earned your secrets."

Tugging on his tie, Maria pulled Romano over to the desk, where she unlocked a secret drawer and pulled out carefully written notes in loopy, handwritten Italian. As she fanned them out on the desk, Romano quickly skimmed them upside down.

"These are the top ten banks in Roma," Romano pointed out, pointing to their names on the pages.

"One night, one run, the right thugs, we'll wipe them all clean," Maria explained slyly. "Feed the denaro back in through the underground. La famiglia di Marino will be controlling the cards again."

Romano swallowed hard. Cazzo! This will bankrupt the entire Italian economy! I can't let her do this!

"Maria, you can't-" Romano tried, but she cut him off.

"I just need my top sicari to clear away a few key targets. The banks will crumble under the scramble." Maria explained.

Suddenly, Romano heard the door of one of the other two exits creak and quickly drew the gun hidden behind his jacket. He aimed the gun with the steady hand, even as two innocent blue eyes and a shaggy blond head poked through the gap in the doorway.

"Miss Maria?" the child asked, and jumped when he saw Romano's gun. He braced and raised his hands into a fighting position. Like that's going to stop a bullet, Romano thought.

"Signora, chi è questo?" Romano asked. The child looked confused by his Italian.

Maria stepped in front of his gun, and pushed away the barrel, going to take the child's hand. "Of no concern to you. Protege," she explained.

Romano grimaced as he tucked away his gun, carefully eyeing the child as his own memories flashed before his eyes. He hadn't been much younger than the child when he had returned to Italia from Espania.

Knife in hand, a young Romano threw off thug after thug until two finally pushed him to the ground and pinned him to the wall, another training the barrel of a pistol to his head.

"Cazzo! Let me go, bastardos! You cannot kill me. Do not waste your bullets trying," he cursed as he struggled to be free. That's when the thug lowered his gun and shot Romano's leg. He screamed, and writhed in pain, only to be held against the wall. The rain trickled its way into the narrow cobblestone side street, Romano's hair plastered to his face.

That's when Maria, not much older than himself, stepped into the light.

"Uccidetelo?" the thug asked her.

"Wait," Maria breathed, and swung her hips as she approached the young, broken, and bleeding Romano. "I like this one. Besides, we could use his... skills to bring back la famiglia. Give me the gun."

The thug handed her the pistol, and she reloaded it with a swiftness Romano didn't expect out of such a pretty girl. She came up and held the pistol to his throat.

"You have proven yourself, ragazzo, and that has saved your life. If you value it, you'll do it again," Maria growled into his face. Then, seductively, she added, "And maybe more."

Still holding the barrel of the gun to his neck, Maria leaned forward and stole a kiss from Romano. In shock, he kissed her back, unexpecting the show of affection, something he would later deeply regret.

Breaking the kiss, she smirked mischievously, breathing, "Yes, I think you'll do well. Welcome to la famiglia di Marino." Stepping back, she removed the gun from his throat, and handed it back to the thug. "Lo riportano a casa," she instructed. "I'm not through with him yet."

Romano shuddered as he was dragged out into the street.

"Oh, and ragazzo!?" she called to him with her musical voice and the thugs threw him down to the ground to face her. He looked up at her through the rain. "Qual è il tuo nome?" she asked.

"Vargas," a young Romano replied, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "Lovino Vargas."

Maria smirked. "Then, buonasera, Lovino Vargas. I shall see you later."

Romano shook his head to clear the memory, and focus back on the task at hand. Maria's voice broke him of his thoughts.

"You have your assignment, and then some, Vargas. Go get the job done. And keep it clean," Maria instructed.

"Of course, Signoria," Romano replied, tipping his fedora and grabbing his gun off the table, taking one last look at the poor boy trapped by Maria.

Romano left the way he had come in, sneering at the pitiful thugs who sharpened up as he passed. He rounded the corner to take the stairwell to the bottom floor, and paused in the hallway thinking. He was considering going back for the poor boy still in the room. He remembered exactly what Maria had done with him when she returned to casa di Marino, and he didn't fancy the poor child suffering the same fate. But how many young boys had Romano let pass between when Maria had first had her way with him and the shaky, blue-eyed boy now at Maria's mercy? What made this one any different than the dozen others over the years? Romano felt something was off, something was different about this one, but he let it slide as nerves and the terrible shivers that followed him wherever he checked in with the Mafioso.

He took the stairs down two at a time, eager to break out into the notte Roma. Some air would do him good. Besides, he had things he needed to settle and supplies to prepare before he went after the American banker. Pushing through the revolving doors, he stepped out into the cobblestone streets lined with mismatched, colourful, leaning buildings. He began down the street to the right, taking the long way back home, hoping it might protect Espania. Romano smiled to himself since no one was watching as he pushed his way through the lingering people in the main street. Cazzo! There you are again Tomato Bastardo, Romano thought to himself. Haha, if only you knew the mess I got myself into. Not even you can save me from this...

The Italian sighed and took a turn, following a road along the river, the moon reflecting broken shards of light off its quietly rippling surface. He wished he could tell Spain where he went every night, wished he could explain the bloodstained sleeves of his dress shirts, wished he could ask his former caretaker how he could escape Maria. But of course he couldn't risk it. Though he hated to admit it, he loved Spain, Antonio, far too deeply for one of his... trade. Besides, if Maria knew about Antonio, about any of the other countries, Romano would be in a mess far beyond anything he could control by taking out the right people. Pulling a shining silver coin from his pocket, he leaned against the railing beside the river and flipped the coin into the watery depths for luck.

Chuckling quietly to himself, Romano was reminded of rhyme Maria had taught him during his apprenticeship into the mafioso, a silly thing remaining from the past, from the days of Grandpa Rome. In the night, assassins creep, for beneath the moon does Death bring sleep. And for every heart the hitman snares, he tosses coins for the boatman's fares... Romano thought in his mind. He looked out over the view of Roma from where he stood.

That was, until he was pulled out of his thoughts by someone screaming his name, a voice he knew far too well. Romano spun to the sound of the voice, his golden eyes wildly searching the night, his heart racing.

"ROMANO!" screamed Spain desperately, as the Southern Italian spotted him being dragged away by two of Maria's thugs.

Cazzo! Romano swore in his head. You had to follow me Tomato Bastardo...

Running after them down the dark street, Romano shouted after them, "Hey, bastardos di Marino?! Where the hell do you think you're taking him?"

Romano had caught up close enough to see them draw their guns. He drew his own cautiously, but did not aim it. Though one of the thugs had muffled Spain's face with one of his giant hands, Romano could still see the emerald eyes of his love widen in fear and surprise. The one thug cocked his gun at Spain's head, and the other aimed at Romano.

"Forget it, Vargas. He's casa bound, Senoria's orders," the thug explained. Romano's face turned serious as he stepped into the light. With a steady arm, he trained his gun on the thug.

Romano's voice was cold as he spoke. "Give the bastardo to me. I'll take him to Maria." Spain tried to mumble something incoherent to Romano from under the thug's thick hand, but that only earned him a smack over the head with the butt of the thug's pistol.

Suddenly the boy with the blue eyes stepped between them from the shadows. "I'm afraid that's not possible, Lovino," the boy spoke. "Miss Maria clearly stated he was of the utmost priority, and that anyone standing in the way could be... disposed of."

Raising his gun away from Antonio's head, the thug pointed it instead at Romano. Spain struggled to be free, but was held tight. Romano held his cool, slowly cocking his gun. He'd take them all out of he had to.

"Seems Miss Maria has a new favourite, Vargas," the boy explained snidely. "You've become... how did she put it... a little old hat."

Romano grimaced and shot his pistol straight at the child, only for the unexpected to happen. In a flash of blue light, the bullet was deflected, and skidded across the cobblestones and into the river. Before he could even react, the child shouted something in a language he hadn't heard since his days with Grandpa Rome, and he was flung back into the wall with a force Romano had been sure only nations possessed. His vision swam with black as he fell and struck the street below him. Before he blacked out, the last thing Romano remembered was the child's voice in his head whispering, "Buonanotte, Romano," and two gold coins spinning on the ground in front of his face.

When Romano awoke, he was surrounded by a small crowd. One of the crowd was next to him, examining his head, while another shouted for ambulanza. Shaking off the examiner, Romano sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Shoo! Cazzo! I'm fine. Get the fuck out of here."

The crowd was persistent, drawing closer as the dawn rose over Roma behind them. Pulling his gun out from behind his jacket and rolling his eyes, Romano shot a harmless bullet into the air. The crowd jumped and cleared quickly, the woman from before shouting and crossing herself, "Ah! Mafioso! Dio mi salvi, per favore! Polizia! Polizia!" as she fled.

Sneering, Romano stood, shook off his headache, and made for the closest fire escape ladder. Reaching the rooftops, Romano jumped from house to house, and headed back to casa Marino.

Hiding behind the chimney across the street, Romano quickly picked off the two guards on the roof, the crowds in the street below scrambling at the sound of gunshots in the middle of the morning. But Romano could care less. Maria has that damned Tomato Bastardo! Cazzo! Romano thought as he planned his way across the wide main street. Dannazione! If she lays so much as a finger on him, dio aiuti la sua anima contorta!

Running across a plank of wood that stretched between the rooftops a few houses down, Romano doubled back towards casa di Marino. Across the way, Romano could hear the loading of a sniper rifle, and bolted for the rooftop entrance, scooping up a couple tomatoes from the garden on the way. Pocketing the ripe, red fruits, Romano tucked behind the metal doorway as it was riddled with bullets.

His gun in hand and loaded, Romano listened for the shouts and footfalls echoing down the dark hallway. The meager lighting flickered, and the Italian slipped into the shadows of the corner as the thugs approached. Without blinking an eye, Romano stretched his arm out of the shadows and shot both thugs dead as they rounded the corner. Releasing his breath, he listened carefully for back-up, but none came. He checked his gun for how many shots he had left. Two. Approaching the bodies, Romano rummaged through their coats for any weaponry they had been carrying. The heavy shotgun one of them carried was too cumbersome for the sleek Italian, and he instead swiped the pistol of the other, loading it to its capacity.

He approached the door to Maria's office silently with a cat-like step, but the thugs from earlier stood with their guns loaded at the door as if expecting him. Aldovo, the jumpy one, caught a flash of his shadow and opened fire, Romano just dodging in time into one of the other empty rooms in the hallway, a bullet just grazing his cheek. He could feel the warm blood run down his face. Wiping it away, he grimaced and felt his blood boil with bloodlust.

Kicking down the door and sending it flying across the hallway, Romano waited as the thugs emptied their guns in fright. As he heard them reload, he stepped into the hallway and trained two guns, one on each thug.

"Get the fuck out of my way bastardos!" Romano screamed, approaching them. The other one, not Aldovo, shakily raised his gun back at Romano in defiance. Without a thought, the Italian shot him clean in the head. As he collapsed to ground, Romano thought he heard Aldovo whimper. He didn't raise his gun, but Aldovo stood his ground.

Lowering his gun and shooting him in the foot, Romano screamed, "I said get the fuck out of here! Are you fucking deaf?" Aldovo hesitated for a second, his face contorted in pain, before he dropped his gun fled down the hallway. The Southern Italian nation didn't follow, but instead violently kicked down the door into Maria's office.

The room was empty. "Cazzo!" Romano swore aloud, kicking the desk, and sending it skittering, papers and pens rolling off its surface. There were two other doors in this room. Romano knew one led to Maria's bedroom, the other he didn't know. Knowing Maria's habits however, he made for the bedroom in a furious rush, but something stopped him. He listened carefully, and from the other door he swore he heard muffled Spanish.

"¡Aléjate de mí, puta! ¿Quién coño te crees que eres? ¿Sabe usted quién demonios soy? La Inquisición española significa algo para usted? ¿Y qué demonios hiciste con mi tomate? Si usted tanto como me tocó el Roma, señora, estás muerto, ¿me oyes?" Romano heard Spain shouting. He only understood part of it, but it made him smirk maliciously all the same.

So the damned Spaniard has a mouth on him too, now does he? Romano thought to himself as he approached the other door. I'm coming Espania. Just you watch me.

Kicking open the other door, he shot the guard before he could even react, and ran down the hallway, throwing open the only other door. The room was empty but for a solitary light hanging from the ceiling, and a wooden chair Spain was tied to with white cording. As Romano entered, Maria slapped Spain clean across the face, leaving a red mark on his cheek.

Romano trained his gun on her as she shouted, "Santa Madre di Dio! Shut the fuck up!"

Spain noticed Romano then, his green eyes wide, and his brunette locks as disheveled as they always were, alerting Maria to Romano's presence.

"I'd hate to agree with her, Antonio, but she's fucking right..." Romano replied grimacing.

He saw panic in Maria's eyes for a moment before she shouted, "Luca! Mario!"

Two thugs stepped out of the shadows and shot at Romano. He could hear Spain screaming, "Lovi!" but Romano dodged the shots and took both thugs clean out with a single bullets.

Romano stepped forward towards the shadows where the other hitmen waited, picking them off as they stepped out of the shadows. It was almost too easy and he laughed darkly. But he heard Spain gasp as a gun cocked behind Romano and the cold metal of the barrel was pressed against the back of Romano's neck.

"No, don't hurt mi Lovi, complacer!" Spain begged, and you could hear the fear in his voice. Romano rolled his eyes. Since when did the damn Spaniard go so soft? Romano thought. He decided to use one of the few words he had actually managed to learn in Spanish.

"¡Cállate!, Antonio," Romano said levelly.

"Please, señora, I will do anything you like! Please just do not harm Lovi," Spain continued.

"Cazzo! I said shut your fucking trap, bastardo!" Romano shouted, raising both his hands into the air in a show of surrender, but still holding his guns. He began to slowly turn, the gun now aimed at the middle of his throat.

Spain quieted down then and Maria laughed her musical laugh. "Seems you have fan, Vargas," she breathed slyly into his face, pressing the barrel of her pistol into his jugular. "Or have you been cheating on me, ragazzo?"

Romano's face went as red as a tomato, but his voice stayed level. Maybe he could use this to his advantage.

"Bella, why would I ever do such a thing," Romano breathed, his voice smooth and low. Out of the corner of his eye, Romano could see Spain's jaw drop. If they got out of this alive, the Italian would have a lot to apologize for.

"You came after the Spaniard with enough force, took out most of the damned famiglia!" She shouted. "I-I can't trust you, Vargas! Who the hell is he anyways? Why is the bastardo so important to you?"

Romano lowered his arms and wrapped them around Maria's waist, his wrist resting lightly there, but his grip on his pistols still tight.

"I could ask you the same question, bella Maria," Romano breathed seductively into her face. "But if you must know, and la familgia has no secrets... let's just say I'd be much deeper in rosso with Antonio missing then I would be coming after you."

Romano stepped forward, pushing Maria back into the wall. Despite the gun at his throat, Romano leaned forward and stole a greedy kiss from her lips. He could feel her melt beneath his touch, and he reached up and knocked the pistol out of her hand, expertly kicking it over to where Spain sat tied to the chair.

When he broke the kiss, he heard her whisper, "Oh, Lovino..."

But Romano backed away, his guns trained on her now, and his face was serious and hurt.

"But here's the real truth, bella signoria," Romano said, his voice cold. "I don't much care for la familgia, because I have one, cazzo. A real one. One where I don't have to pretend to love a dannare mafia boss to keep my brains from getting blown out. One that understands I have a duty as a nation to protect my people and won't put me in the line of fire to do that fucking job."

Spain tried saying a cautious, "Lovi," but Romano didn't hear him in his frenzy.

"That's right, puttana. You're looking at the fucking incarnation of Italia, dannazione," Romano continued. "And right now, he really doesn't much care for the mafioso that's been sticking their filthy fingers all over him. Right now, you just kidnapped the one person in his fucking life that ever cared for his sorry existence, and that's enough to make anyone dangerous. Right now, that southern Italian nation is thinking he has a lot of fucking explaining to do, and really, really just wants to make out with his damned bastardo pomodoro in peace."

Spain was a little louder, and you could hear the tears, and oddly, excitement, in his voice. "Lovino." But Romano still wasn't listening, his concentration entirely on Maria.

"So I'm going to do something I should have done a long time ago, and just put an end to this damned chaos!" Romano shouted, his eyes teary and his voice breaking. Dropping one of his guns, Romano reached into his pocket and pulled out two golden coins.

"In the night, assassins creep, for beneath the moon does Death bring sleep," Romano spoke, solemnly. Maria shook with fear in front of him. The Italian tossed one of the coins in her direction before continuing. "And for every heart the hitman snares, he tosses coins for the boatman's fares."

Romano tossed the other coin at Maria who began to cry, and crossed herself. He cocked his gun and checked his aim.

"Romano!" Spain shouted in vain. "Lovi, no, you don't have to do this!"

"Buenonotte, Maria," Romano said, and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit home cleanly, and the boss of la famiglia di Marino crumbled to the ground.

Crying, Romano threw his gun to the ground and finished the rhyme as he walked over to Spain and undid his binding.

"So every time the killer stands, the Devil counts it on his hands. And when it comes his judgement day, the slayer has not fares to pay," Romano whispered quietly.

Pushing the chair away, Spain pulled Romano into a tight embrace and just held him, gently stroking his back and his hair.

"Oh, Lovino," Spain breathed. "I'm sorry, lo siento mucho. Lo siento mucho... I should have protected you better, I should have known, I-"

Romano cut him off with a hand over his mouth. Romano had stopped crying, his face serious again.

"I got myself into this fucking mess myself, tomato bastard," Romano told him. "I should have known the mafioso would have been rampant with me gone for so long, but I was reckless and stupid and angry about leaving you and slipped up. I fucked up like usual, alright?"

Suddenly a shaggy blond head and a pair of blue eyes poked out from around the corner. The poor boy looked so frightened.

Breaking away from Spain, Romano hesitantly went up to the boy, hands up to show peace.

"Did she hurt you, bambino?" Romano asked softly. The child shook his head. Romano thought for a minute, thinking he should punish the child for attacking him earlier, but figured the fright from Maria was probably enough.

Crouching down to his level, Romano whispered softly, "Go, get away from here. Far away. I trust you not to make the same mistakes as me."

Nodding, the child nodded before fleeing the room.

"Lovi~" Spain cooed, drawing the Italian's attention back to the Spaniard.

Then, Romano did something the Spain wasn't expecting. The Italian pulled down on collar of Spain's shirt until their lips met, and stole a kiss. But Spain was quick to react, and pulled his little tomato in closer, deepening it. Romano blushed brightly, shivers rushing down his spine, but the good kind. The Italian actually smiled under Spain's lips. The damn tomato bastard tastes like fucking tomatoes, Romano thought happily. When the kiss broke Romano looked into the emerald orbs he loved so much and smirked mischievously.

"Welcome to la familgia di Roma," Romano said, handing Spain one of the tomatoes from his pocket.

Taking the tomato, Spain bowed to Romano and replied, "It would be my honour to serve, Señor Vargas."

---

Translations:

bastardo - bastard
cazzo - fuck
Italia - Italy
fratello - Brother
Nonna - grandmother
idiota - idiot
Buonasera - goodevening
Signoria - lady
Cercando mozzafiato come sempre - looking stunning as always
Bella - pretty
hai sempre guardato bene lavati in rosso - you've always looked good bathed in red
grazie - thank you
la famiglia di Marino - Marino Family
rosso - red
si - yes
Piazza del Fiore - Fiore Square
Mafioso - Mafia
non si cura di ballare? - Do you care to dance?
maledetto - cursed
il mio amore - my love
maledizione Dio - god damn it
lascia che ti convinci - let me convince you
dannazione - damn
mio Dio - my god
Roma - rome
denaro - money
sicari - assassins
chi è questo? - who is this
protege - like a apprenticeship
uccidetelo - kill
ragazzo - boy
lo riportano a casa - bring him home
qual è il tuo nome? - what is your name
casa di Marino - Marino House
notte Roma - Rome at night
casa - home
buonanotte - goodnight
dio mi salvi, per favore! - God save me, please!
Polizia - police
dio aiuti la sua anima contorta! - God help her twisted soul
santa madre di Dio - holy mother of God
dannare - damn
puttana - bitch
bastardo pomodoro - tomato bastard
bambino - little one/child/baby

Spanish

mi tomate - My Tomato
Espania - Spain
¡Aléjate de mí, puta! ¿Quién coño te crees que eres? ¿Sabe usted quién demonios soy? La Inquisición española significa algo para usted? ¿Y qué demonios hiciste con mi tomate? Si usted tanto como me tocó el Roma, señora, estás muerto, ¿me oyes? - Get away from me, bitch! Who the hell do you think you are? Do you know who the hell I am? The Spanish Inquisition mean anything to you? What the hell did you do with my Tomato? If you so much as touched Romano, lady, you're dead, do you hear me?
Mi Lovi - My Lovi
complacer - Please
¡Cállate! - shut up
señora - miss
lo siento mucho - I'm very sorry
Señor - mister

Holy shit I used a lot more Italian than I thought I did... damn...

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it regardless. Reviews are love and help finish the HetaVenture faster!