Nnng… I know, I know. I have two other stories to work on. What on earth am I doing starting a third? I'm sorry! The idea came while I was talking to Map of the Stars and I couldn't stop myself! But the semester is almost over. I think I can handle juggleing three stories! Right? Right?

There wasn't a suitable Alan character available… I'm going to do my best to preserve a LITTLE of the awesome that is Alan, okey? I'm nervous, though. I feel like Alan MADE The Hangover…

Italy paced the floor nervously.

"No one's picking up their phones, ve! I called the hotel, I called all of them, I called the Las Vegas police- where could they be?"

Japan tried to smile reassuringly. "You know how things are in Alfred's country. I'm sure Ludwig-kun and everyone are fine. Please relax, you're going to wear out your tuxedo…"

Italy turned to Japan with tears in his eyes. "But Ludwig is always so careful and strict about time! What if something awful happened?"

"Calm down!" Japan said sternly. "Everything is going to be fine. You're upsetting yourself for no reason. You need to sit down, have a glass of wine and wait. Everything is going to be okay and you're going to be married to the love of your life by dinnertime."

Italy smiled and sat down on the sofa. "You're right," he said. "You're right. There's nothing to be worried about. Everything is going to be perfect, ve!"

Just then, Italy's cell phone buzzed. He yelped and picked it up before it even rang once.

"Gilbert?" he cried. "Gilbert, where are you? Where's Ludwig? Why isn't anyone answering their phones? Tell me what's happening, ve!"

Prussia voice sounded strained and exhausted. "Hey, Feli… sorry. Um… We fucked up."

Italy bit his lip. "Gilbert, listen to me. I don't care how bad it is. As long as Ludwig is back here in time for the wedding, nothing you guys have done matters, ve."

There was a dry laugh from Prussia's end of the phone. "Feli… we, uh… we lost West."

Italy's eyes flashed darkly and Japan leapt back in alarm. "You what," Italy said dangerously.

"We can't find him anywhere."

"You realize," Italy said venomously, "that Ludwig and I are getting married in twelve hours."

"Yeah…" Prussia said. "That's not going to happen…"

…MAGICAL TIME TRAVEL TO THREE DAYS EARLIER…

"Does this look alright?"

"Turn around. I dunno, West, it makes your ass look all flat."

Germany groaned and appraised the tuxedo himself. "I'm not really asking my brother to judge my ass, Gilbert. In fact, if there was an opposite of that, that would be what I want."

Prussia straightened his own tuxedo and shrugged. "Fine," he said. "But don't get all bitchy when everyone thinks the best man is totally hotter than the groom. I mean, it was going to happen anyway, but with a flat ass like that you can just say goodbye to anyone being polite about it."

Poland snickered behind his hand and Germany shot him a look.

"What?" Poland shrugged. "He's totally right. Take off your pants, I'll alter it, kay?"

"I think it's fine!"

Poland and Prussia rolled their eyes at each other.

"Sorry, Po."

"Why would he ask me to be his tailor if he's not even going to listen to me?"

Germany reddened. "I didn't ask you, it was-"

"VE!"

The three men turned to the door to see Italy grinning.

"Doitsu!" he cried. "You look so handsome!"

Germany blushed and smiled softly as Italy ran to hug his fiancé. "Feliciano, you're very happy, aren't you?"

"Of course I am, ve! We're getting married in three days! It's something to be very happy about!"

Germany smiled and kissed Italy's forehead. "I'm happy too."

"Ve!"

Poland tapped his foot impatiently. "Hello? Why are you still wearing the pants? I need to fix them!"

Germany frowned. "Italy thinks they're fine. And that's all that matters."

Italy giggled.

"Is that so?" Prussia smirked. "Turn around." Prussia lifted Germany's coattails as Germany protested. "Feli, does West's ass look flat in these slacks?"

Italy paused just half a moment too long. "Ve!" he said. "I think Ludwig's butt looks great no matter what!"

Germany reddened. "What? What's wrong with them? Do they really look that bad? How on earth can you fix that?"

Prussia smirked. "You heard Hubby, West. No matter what."

Germany blushed and took the slacks off, leaving him in his boxers. He tossed the pants and Poland.

"Fine," he said. "Fix them."

Poland squealed in glee and ran out of the room to alter the slacks. Italy looked confused.

"Ve? But I said they were fine!"

Prussia slung his arm across Italy's shoulders and winked. "'Fine' is not a good word to hear before a wedding," Prussia educated. "What would you think if West said he liked your shoulders 'no matter what'?"

Tears sprang to Italy's eyes. "My tuxedo makes my shoulders look small? Why didn't you say something?"

Germany pulled up his jeans and rushed to comfort his fiancé, glowering at his brother. "Feliciano, your shoulders look perfect in your tuxedo. Gilbert was just using that as an example."

"Sorry, Feli!"

…

Germany, back in a tank top and jeans, walked with Italy out to the garden. Italy chirped happily and picked flowers. Germany watched him, smiling gently.

"I love you, Feliciano."

Italy looked at him and grinned. "Ve! I love you too!"

"I don't know why you think I need a bachelor party," Germany said. "It's not as if I'll be missing anything when we're married."

Italy smiled and rubbed a dandelion on Germany's nose. "You never know. Besides, I'll be having one of my own. And if you have one too, I won't feel bad about it!"

"A cooking party is a little different than Las Vegas, Feliciano."

"To-may-to, to-may-to."

Germany smiled. "The phrase is 'To-may-to, to-mah-to."

"Ve?" Italy said. "Who do you know that says to-mah-to? That's just silly!"

Germany laughed and kissed his fiancé happily. "You're too good to be true."

Italy pulled away and looked Germany in the eye. "Is this about Big Brother Francis? Is that why you don't want to go to Las Vegas?"

Germany shrugged. A breeze ruffled the trees and a shower of apple blossom petals rained on them.

Germany fondly brushed the petals from a giggling Italy's hair. "I don't understand the Vegas concept itself. And it makes me a little uneasy that Francis was so persistent about it."

"You know how Alfred's always talking it up," Italy said. "I think Francis just wants to see it for himself. I'm sorry, my big brother can be a little strange."

Germany held Italy's hand and started walking back to the house. "Don't be ridiculous. We're getting married. That means my family is your family and your family is my family. He'll be my brother too."

Italy giggled. "Does saying that still put you in physical pain?"

"It's getting worse," Germany grimaced.

Italy laughed. But he went quiet very suddenly, eyes watering.

Germany stopped and faced him. "I'm sure he would have loved to be here for you," Germany murmured.

Italy chuckled and a tear slipped out of his eye. "You've never met him. He'd hate all this wedding stuff."

"He's your brother," Germany said, wiping the tear from Italy's face. "I'm sure he loves you no matter what. Has Rome found any leads as to where he could be?"

Italy shook his head. "Lovino got rid of everything that could lead us to him. He's really good at hiding. And it's been so many years… I don't even know if he's still alive."

Germany pulled Italy to his chest. "I'm sure wherever he is, he's fine. If Rome can't find him, the Mafia must be turned entirely upside down. Lovino seems like a very smart man."

Italy laughed through his tears. "You're right. I just wish he could be here! I miss him so much!"

Germany kissed Italy's forehead. "I know you do. But you'll see him again."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Somewhere behind them, a twig snapped. Germany went rigid and stepped in front of his fiancé protectively.

"Who's there?" he demanded of the bushes.

"Doitsu," Italy said. "It's probably just a bunny! It's okay!"

"Come out now or I will be forced to shoot you!"

"Don't shoot the bunny!"

"Funf! Vier! Drei!"

"Doitsu! Bunnies can't count!"

"Zwei!"

"They don't speak German, either!"

"Eins!"

There was a yelp from the bushes and a blond, bearded man fell out. "AH! Don't shoot me!"

Germany groaned and Italy looked at his big brother.

"Ve? Francis? Were you following us?"

"Define 'follow,'" Francis said, standing up and brushing himself off.

"Walking behind us with the intent to watch us," Germany growled.

Francis frowned. "Er… well, what are you doing with a gun out here?"

Germany sighed. "I'm not carrying a gun. I was bluffing."

Francis' eyes widened. "That was a bluff? That was an excellent bluff! You were made for Las Vegas!"

Germany looked at Italy pleadingly, but Italy just smiled.

"Ve!"

…

Germany stood awkwardly in Rome's office. "I… I don't know what to say."

"Start with thank you!" Rome laughed, his dark, tousled hair bouncing against his cheeks. He leaned back in his chair and looked at his future son-in-law. "Kids these days!"

"Thank you," Germany blushed. "But this is a lot of money. I don't know if I should take it."

"I've been to Vegas," Rome winked. "You definitely have more fun with an extra few thousand in your pocket!"

"Thank… thank you. I'll be sure to pay you back."

Rome laughed and stood up. "Consider it a wedding present! Just don't leave Francis in charge of it, okay? Because there's something wrong with him."

Germany laughed. "Thank you very much. I'll be sure to keep it safe."

"Not too safe, I hope! Maybe listen to Antonio about it. I know that man knows how to have a good time!"

Germany offered a half smile. "I'll make sure everyone has fun."

"That's the spirit!" Rome laughed. "And remember, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas! Well, except herpes. That shit'll come back with you."

Germany laughed nervously. Rome pulled him close, a menacing glare flashing through his eyes.

"Seriously, though. If I find out you fooled around behind my grandson's back, I will cut your balls off with a butter knife and feed them to you raw."

Germany smiled. "You have nothing to worry about, Sir Rome."

"That's my boy."

…

"I still don't understand why you're going to California of all places," Austria nagged at Spain. "We have perfectly good wine here."

Spain shrugged. "Ludwig wanted to get something more exotic for Feli," he said. "Napa Valley is supposed to be very good."

Austria folded his arms. "I hear it tastes like toilet water."

Spain laughed and kissed his boyfriend on the cheek. "With America's taste, probably. Still, we're going for Ludwig, not us. Even if it tastes like ass, we'll smile and pretend it's a great idea!"

Austria made a disgusted face. "Don't say such disgusting things. Did you remember to pack everything?"

"Yes, I double checked everything."

"Don't forget to call me when you get to the hotel."

"I won't. But I'm going to just remind you once. It's in a different time zone. By the time we get there, it'll be like two in the morning here."

Austria rolled his eyes. "I can't believe you think that excuse is going to work."

"What? Roderich, it's true! Austria's nine hours ahead of California."

Austria shot Spain a look that asked if he was stupid. "I know. I was joking."

Spain blinked. "That was a joke?"

Austria glared daggers at him.

Spain waved his hands and laughed nervously. "I'm sorry, I don't have a very good sense of humor!"

Austria humphed. "I suppose that's why you're going with Gilbert, of all people."

Spain's face fell. "Think of it this way," he tried to say brightly. "If Gilbert hadn't swept Hungary off her feet and married her, we wouldn't be dating right now! So really, he's a great guy! Right?"

Austria looked Spain up and down and sighed. Spain's heart sank.

"You're right. He's a dick. But I'm going for Ludwig and Feli."

"And Francis, too."

"Why do we hate Francis again?"

"Because he's a perverted, slimy, vulgar, awful man."

Spain wrapped his arms around Austria's waist and Austria struggled against him.

"No one can play piano better than you can," Spain murmured in Austria's ear. "No one does music better, no one does cuisine better, no one does art better. You're better at everything."

Austria sighed and straightened his glasses. "You can be so immature."

Spain laughed and kissed Austria on the cheek. "I'm not so bad."

"Only when you compare yourself to your friends," Austria said, slipping out of Spain's grip.

"They're really not that bad," Spain defended. "They're great guys."

"They're silly little man-children. I don't know why you and Germany hang around them."

"They're not man-children," Spain said. "They're actually very mature. I wish you'd give them a cha-"

At that moment, a car horn blared into Austria's kitchen. "CALLING SENOR ASSHOLE," Prussia's voice yelled loudly against the horn. "SENOR ASSHOLE!"

Austria rolled his eyes. Spain laughed nervously. "Well… gotta go…"

He pecked Austria once more on the cheek and ran outside to find France and Prussia in Germany's sleek gray convertible. Germany stood by the open trunk while Prussia was turned around in the driver's seat.

"Toni, check it out!" he laughed. "I can honk the horn with my ass!"

Francis laughed and made a vulgar gesture from the back seat.

Germany rolled his eyes and Spain tried not to laugh while Austria was watching from the kitchen window.

"Idiots," Germany grumbled.

"Ah, you love them," Spain winked, tossing his bag in the trunk. "Don't forget, in three days they'll both be your brothers!"

Germany reddened. "Please don't remind me."

Spain laughed and hopped next to Francis in the backseat. "So what time does the plane leave?"

"In an hour," Prussia said, moving to the passenger's seat as Germany climbed back in. "Are you guys ready?"

France cheered. Spain laughed. "Let's show Ludwig the best time ever!"

Germany groaned and turned the key. Spain turned back to the house. "LOVE YOU, SNOOKUMS!" he called to Austria.

"Yeah!" Prussia laughed. "BYE, SNOOKUMS!"

Spain smacked his arm. "Stop! You're going to get me in trouble!"

Prussia grinned and pointed to the road. "Onward, West!" he said. "To the greatest weekend of your life!"

I know, I know. Rome should have offered Germany his car. But there's a problem with that, you see. You can't drive across the Atlantic. See? I do thinking!

Let me know if this is something I should continue or not. Kay?