Disclaimer: We don't own Hetalia or any of the characters associated with it.
Warning: A little bit of yaoi fluff, so if you don't like, don't read!
The sun was bright as he walked down the path to his house, being careful not to drop the tomatoes he had just picked. Somehow, Spain had found the time to stop and pick them after a long day of work. He smiles thinking of Romano's' reaction when he sees how many there are. Then reality hits him. He's probably made a mess again and I'll have to clean it up. Rounding the last corner Spain realizes he's already home. The walk had seemed rather short. He reached for the door handle and saw the door was slightly ajar. I must have forgotten to close it this morning. I was in a rush.
Walking into his small cottage, he noticed something a bit off. The room that usually had books and random pieces of parchment scattered about when he got home was clean and orderly. That's strange. Usually the place is in ruins when I get home. Did something happen? Spain pushed this thought aside and placed the tomatoes on a nearby table.
"Romano," Spain called," Are you home?" No one answered. That's funny. He's usually home by now. Either way, he was sure nothing had happened. Romano often went looking for trouble but he was more of a pest than a threat to anyone. Picking up the basket of tomatoes he saw that he had placed them on top of a note. Romano must have left this note for me, Spain thought with a smile on his face. As he read the note the smile vanished and the tomatoes dropped to the floor.
'If you're reading this, then I'm probably not home right now. Damn it Spain, help me! They're taking me away! I don't want to-' The note cut off there. It was ripped, like it had been forced away from him, and scrawled out as if he were in a hurry. Spain stuffed the parchment into his pocket and dashed out of the house, "Romano! I'm coming!" he yelled as he ran down the dirt road.
That idiot, Spain thought, I hope he's okay. Suddenly, Spain stopped. He sat down under a tree and held his head in frustration. "I don't even know where he is," Spain thought aloud, "He could have put that on the note. Who would want Romano? Don't they know how high maintenance he is?" He quickly stood up. "France," Spain said, hitting the tree. A few acorns fell of as he began reasoning it out. "He begged me for Romano when he was just a niñito. Maybe he's trying to get Romano now too." Spain began running down the road again. That's the only explanation I can think of right now. It has to work, Spain thought, hold on Romano, I'm on my way.
Spain ran towards France's front door and slammed it open. "Where is he!? Where is Romano!? I know you're hiding him here so don't pull anything on me!"
France looked up at him from his book and smirked. "Ohonhonhon~ so you've lost your little Romano, have you? I don't know where he is, but it must be important for you to come here barging in uninvited like that." Furious, Spain marched towards France.
"Don't you act all innocent now, France! I know you've wanted Romano ever since the fifteenth century and you're not getting him!"
"Sorry to disappoint, but even if I did have him don't you think I would be doing something else then reading," France said, "Now if you would please let go of my shirt!" France tried to get Spain off but Spain wasn't going to let him get away.
"I'll let go when I get Romano and only then," Spain said.
"If you insist," France said," Pierre!" Spain felt something cut him on the back of his right hand. As he flinched from the pain and let go he could have sworn he saw white feathers. "Tell you what old friend," France was already by the door, "Let's you and I have a race to find your petit frère. Although I warn you, if I win I'm keeping him. Au revoir." France walked out the door and Spain chased after him, but when Spain got out there France had vanished.
