A/N- Hey all. ^^ So this is my newest project, and I hope you enjoy it. Silverpool3, who is on dA, will be the co-author of 'True Intentions'. We will take turns, alternating between chapters. Now, there will be several pairings in here (what? Don't you expect this by now? x3), but most will remain unknown until later. There will be FrUK, Spamano, and GerIta, though, because FrUK is a favorite of Silver's. And who doesn't like Spamano and GerIta? /cue Spain/RomanoxBelgium and Germancest fangirl outburst now. And no offense to those people, I myself like occasional Germancest. So, enough with my ramblings and off to the story!
DISCLAIMER- I've Googled it, and I still don't own Hetalia. Or Color Police. But it's okay, I'm American. ;D
Chapter 1
...In which we meet the Hetalia Police Department
Inside the busy city of Seattle, Washington, there lays a police department. No, not that one. I mean the Hetalia Police Department, or HPD for short. This special police force was founded by Legolas Beilschmidt forty-five years ago, and is currently ran by Gilbert Beilschmidt, Legolas' grandson.
Inside the doors of the Hetalia Police Department, there are several 'teams'. Each team is named after a color and ends in 'police', and each have their own personal office. Probably the most notorious of the teams is the 'Black Police', consisting of Gilbert Beilschmidt himself and his little brother, Ludwig Beilschmidt. The two are almost constantly disagreeing, but they always have each others' backs when it counts. The other teams include the Red Police, Pink Police, Orange Police, Yellow Police, Blue Police, and White Police.
Anyway, I said that we would meet the Hetalia Police Department in this chapter, didn't I?
On the morning of July 24, the Blue Police, otherwise known as Alfred F. Jones, could be seen walking into the station with a McMuffin in one hand and a McMocha in the other. He's wearing his usual brown bomber jacket over his uniform. He waves to the Belgian girl, who sits at the front desk, before sneaking into his office. We wouldn't want Officer Kirkland to take away his delicious, totally healthy breakfast again, now would we? Unfortunately, this just isn't Alfred's day. He makes it halfway to his totally heroic office before Arthur Kirkland, or Pink Police, catches him. Seriously, don't ask why he's pink. He'll sic his unicorn named Steve on you if you do.
"Alfred! How many times have I told you to eat your godforsaken food at home? Or in that culinary establishment that sells the heart attacks on a bun that you're eating!" Arthur says, pushing Alfred out of the Western Hall, where half of the offices are located, and into the lobby.
Alfred pouts as he's forced to eat while sitting on one of the many chairs that are situated around the lobby. "But dude! Why can't I just eat in my office like everyone else?"
"Because, you leave crumbs everywhere! Then you make Toris clean up your mess, the bloke must have the patience of a saint to put up with you, Alfred," Toris Laurinaitis is a college student who works at the station. He does meager things like making coffee (or in Arthur's case, tea), delivering mail, and generally just helping out. Most of his time nowadays, however, is spent cleaning Alfred's office.
"Hmph, do not... And sometimes Hero eats them," the American mumbles, taking another bite of his McMuffin, which sends a shower of crumbs to fall onto his lap and to the floor. Arthur just sighs, knowing that he's wasting his time, and walks away.
xXxXx
Now that we've met the Blue and Pink Police, lets move onto the White Police, shall we? The White Police, who also goes by the name of Kiku Honda (Honda Kiku he says), is a 27 year old Japanese man who is practically the image of calmness. He and his mentor, Yao Wang (Wang Yao, whatever), live together in a nice house outside of the city.
Now, while Alfred was eating his 'heart attack on a bun' in the lobby, Kiku was finishing up yesterdays paperwork. He would have finished it yesterday, but Alfred had burst into his office saying that he should go play video games with him. Normally, the Japanese man would have declined, but Alfred had just bought the newest 3D game that's been sold out in every store in town for the last month and... well, he couldn't just say no, now could he?
So Kiku continues his work like a good little police officer as Yao prepares some tea. Yao is the Yellow Police, but he has already finished his work and waits for Kiku so that the two can go home together, since the two came to work together this morning.
A few minutes later, when Kiku is almost done with his paperwork, Yao reenters the room, a tray of tea in his hands. "Hey, Kiku. You should take a break, you've been working for two hours straight. Come have some tea,"
"Hai, but just a few more minutes. I'm almost done," Kiku says, signing another document.
"Aiyah, that's what you said fifteen minutes ago! Really, do I have to drag you away from that desk?"
The Japanese man continues to work. "You wouldn't."
"Try me."
A few seconds later, the sounds of Kiku screaming, a chair being flipped over, and pens clattering to the floor flood the Eastern Hall.
"B-but I'm almost done! Yao-sensei! This is embarrassing, do you really have to carry me?"
xXxXx
The Red Police sighs as his cat hisses at him. Romano was sitting on the Spaniard's desk, ears folded backwards and eyes wide. He apparently didn't like his master cuddling him like some sort of toy while complaining about his life and how he wanted to settle down and blah blah blah. The spotted tabby claws at Antonio Fernandez Carriedo's hand as he reaches to pet the cat.
"Aw, Romano! Come on, I'm sorry. Please come back to master's lap!" the 'master' whines.
"Rreow!"
I take it you know where this is going. Now you might be wondering, why is there a cat in the station? Well, Antonio was told by certain, uptight, English and Swiss officers to keep his 'precious cariño' at home, but the Spaniard finds it incredibly boring without the feline to keep him company. So he does what any best friend of certain albino head officers do, he asks him if he could let Romano stay using his patented, almost as cute as Feliciano's, pout. Needless to say, Romano has come with him to work with him ever since.
Romano, who is now tired of his master's whining, jumps off the wooden desk and saunters out the door, which Antonio has left open just a crack to air out the room after spilling his morning coffee. Well, he didn't spill it, it was more like Romano didn't like the coffee he had bought at the new cafe that just opened, and decided knock it over.
Now bored and lonely, the Red Police sighs again. Then he starts thinking about his life. How he hopes to find a nice girl, or boy, to settle down with. How he wants to move into a nice house with a big garden to plant tomatoes. How he-
"OI! GET THIS CAT AWAY FROM ME!"
Oh, he must mean Romano.
As if on cue, Romano runs into the room, chased by a very angry, trigger happy Swiss. His face is flushed, and he looks downright furious. You see, Vash Zwingli and Romano have never gotten along. Ever since the day the clumsy tabby accidentally knocked over some of his paperwork. Which then proceeded to startle the cat. Who then proceeded to knock over a very expensive, very new rifle the Orange Police had just splurged on.
"Hey, Antonio! Get your demon cat away from my office and me!" Vash exclaims, barely containing his urge to grab the soccer ball lying on the floor next to him and throwing it straight at the tom.
Antonio picks the finicky feline up, and cradles him in his arms. "Ahaha, sorry, Vash. I promise it won't happen again," Which they both know is a lie, because this is the third time this week that this has happened.
"Whatever," Vash mutters, walking out of the room as the Spaniards starts cooing at the cat.
xXxXx
"Bruder! What have I told you about leaving Berlitz and Fritz in the same room for too long? You know they cause trouble when they're together by themselves!" Ludwig exclaims. Who is he yelling at? The head officer of course. Otherwise known as his big brother.
Gilbert waves his hand nonchalantly as he plops down on the couch. Well, the part that isn't covered with papers, torn wurst wrappers, and whatever else the dogs got to. "Geez, West. Calm down, will you? They're just having some fun."
West is a nickname Gilbert has for his brother, since Ludwig was born in west Germany, and not east like him and the rest of their family.
"Calm down? CALM DOWN?" the Black Police storms over to Gilbert, tearing the newspaper he had began to read out of his hands and tossing it on the table. "You always do this! You'll do something stupid that I've told you a thousand times not to do and make a mess that you expect me to clean up! Well not this time. This time, you're cleaning it up!" His face is as red as, dare I say it, the tomatoes Antonio loves so much. His eyes cold, colder than normal. His mouth is pressed into a thin line as he leaves their shared office, slamming the door behind him.
And for once, Gilbert starts feeling guilty. He stands up and looks around the office. Berlitz and Fritz are cowering in the corner, as if realizing for the first time how angry Ludwig is. Ludwig has always called Fritz a bad influence, since Berlitz was usually a very well behaved dog. Sighing, the Black Police Officer walks over to the dogs and gives them a pat on the head. "See what you've gotten me into?" he says, more to himself than the dogs. Because everyone knows that someone as awesome as Gilbert does not talk to dogs.
"Someone as awesome as me shouldn't be feeling guilty, either," Gilbert runs a hand through his silver locks, closing his crimson eyes for just a moment before going back to the couch to pick up the scattered papers.
Half a hour later, the German finds himself in a clean office. One wouldn't call it spotless, as the albino isn't the best at cleaning, but when Ludwig walks in, it's more than he could have ever asked for. Gilbert smiles at his brother, the look on his face almost makes the last half hour worth it. Almost. 'Cause the awesome him should never be reduced to what he just did. Ever.
"I-I. Gilbert, wh-"
"Save it, West. I'm s-sorry," Gott, why was it so hard to say those two simple words? Gilbert shuffles his feet nervously, a small blush on his face.
Ludwig blinks for a moment, not believing what his brother just said. For you see, Gilbert never apologizes. Well, he never means it, anyway. "Gilbert, no. I should be the one apolo-"
Before he knows what's happening, Gilbert has him in a headlock, and gives him a noogie. "Kesese, come on, West! We're too awesome for this sappy stuff! Now come on, I heard that Alfred's gonna sabotage Eyebrow's afternoon tea!" The elder of the two leads them into the hallway, just as the screaming starts.
Ludwig allows a tiny smile as his brother laughs at Alfred, who is being chased by a downright homicidal Englishman.
xXxXx
So there you have it, a typical morning in the Hetalia Police Department. Well, I guess there is no such thing as a 'typical morning' with these guys. Everyday is a new adventure, and tomorrow, our beloved police officers will find themselves embarking on a new journey. One filled with love, betrayal, and all that other cliche stuff. Yeah, I said it. Now, how about we learn more about our criminals?
xXxXx
PRIVATE FILES
Name: Alfred F. Jones
Team: Blue Police
Age: 21
Physical Appearance: Blonde hair and blue eyed, Alfred is your typical American. He usually wears a brown bombers jacket over his uniform, and has a cowlick that stands up on his head. Alfred wears glasses for distance, and refuses to get contacts. Usually in a cheerful mood, a grin will most likely be on his face 24/7.
Other Information: Alfred appears to have a large amount of physical strength, enough that he has singlehandedly apprehended several wanted criminals on numerous occasions. The American claims that he is the hero, having a large sense of justice. Alfred was born and raised in New York City, having worked for the New York Police Department before being transferred to HPD.
Family: Arthur Kirkland is the one who first trained him when Alfred arrived at HPD, and is like a brother to him, even though the two have no blood relation. He also has a brother named Matthew Williams back in New York, but Matthew is often forgotten. His parents also live in New York City. The American also considers a golden retriever named Hero as part of his family.
A/N- I hope that didn't utterly suck. If it did, then I'm sorry, blame... um, potato eaters. Actually, just blame me... But I hope you stick around for the next chapter, which will be written by Silverpool3, and her writing pwns mine. ^^
Reviews, critiques, favorites, and alerts are all highly appreciated!