For those of you who asked for a sequel to I'm Not a Catnip Kind of Girl, here it is :) It's not required that you have read the other story to understand this one, so I hope you all enjoy this. Happy reading!

I do not own Hetalia :/


I wait patiently in the shade of a large maple tree. Usually I'm not so good with that whole sitting still thing, but recently I've gotten better. There's a large squirrel hunched over a few feet away, completely unaware of my presence. My tail gives a small twitch of excitement, and the squirrel lifts its head in response. Okay, maybe I haven't completely mastered pretending to be a statue. The furry woodland creature lowers its guard and turns away. It's the perfect opportunity for me to strike. I creep forward with one furry paw, and then another.

"(Y/n)! Breakfast is ready!"

The shout scares my prey. It darts quickly up the maple and disappears into the red and orange leaves. I sigh and stand. Crouching for so long made my legs a little stiff, so I give each a good stretch before turning around. I knew who would be waiting for me even before I turned around, and wasn't surprised in the least to see Matthew standing there in the doorway with a plate of pancakes in his hand.

"I almost had that," I mumbled.

"Are you terrorizing the squirrels now? You know you're the reason birds don't come here anymore, right?"

"It's not my fault that they're dumb enough for me to catch, and I'm not even a real cat." Yeah, I should probably mention that I'm a cat. Sometimes. And I can talk as a cat too. I feel my spine elongate and stretch as I turn back into a human. "I'm not going to eat them or anything."

"They don't know that," Matthew says.

I sneeze loudly and shiver. It was starting to get pretty cold outside, and I hadn't been wearing much when I first shifted into a cat. Whatever I wear before I change is what I wear after I turn back, and I happened to have only a t-shirt and shorts on before I morphed. I really should stop shifting right after waking up. It makes changing back and having nothing but pajamas on kind of awkward.

"Okay, I promise not to chase them around anymore, if you give me those pancakes."

Matthew considers my offer and lifts the plate high above his head and out of my reach. "You'll have to come and get them."

I grin. I know what he's getting at. We've played this game before often enough. I move closer to him and place a finger on his nose. "You're not playing fair," I murmur.

"That's what you get for chasing helpless animals around the yard."

I bring my face closer to his and whisper as seductively as possible. "Maybe I won't play fair either."

His face turns a bright red. Even though we've been together for a while now, Matthew still tends to be more hesitant than me when it comes to getting physical. That's not to say that he can't. He's just a shy sweetheart that has never really been in love before. Not that I'm one to talk.

I lean in closer and place a soft, teasing kiss on his cheek, right near the corner of his lips. He tries to hide his gasp, and I know that it's killing him to not give in right here and now. I up the ante. My arms wrap around his chest, and I put a few more kisses around his lips. With slow, careful movements, I start to untie and remove the apron he's wearing. Once that's done, I reach up to twirl the long curl that falls over his face around my finger.

"You're not doing so well, Mattie," I whisper in his ear.

"T-that's because y-you're ch-ch-cheating."

"Those pancakes are mine."

"W-what?"

Before he can react, I jump up and grab the plate of pancakes. Then I run into the house to find someplace to hide. It won't take Matthew long to figure out what happened. I laugh softly to myself as I crawl into one of the kitchen cabinets and close the door. It's one of the few hiding places I fit in both as a cat and a person. It's also one of the places that I'm pretty sure Matthew doesn't know about. I would be able to eat my pancakes in peace.

"Syrup," I mutter to myself. "I need syrup."

As quietly as possible, I open the cabinet door and sneak out. One of the perks of being a cat girl is that I'm usually pretty good at being stealthy as a human too. Sometimes I like to jump out at Matthew from behind some furniture and give him a good scare. He hates it.

I pad across the kitchen quietly. Maybe he left the syrup lying on the table in the dining room or something. I peek my head into that room to make sure he's not in there already. The coast looks clear. Just as I had suspected, the large bottle of syrup is sitting next to two set places at the table. The table is actually big enough to seat a lot of people, but we only ever use one side of it. I asked Matthew a while ago why he needed such a humongous table, and he mentioned something about having a lot of people over for meetings sometimes. Since I came to live with him this past summer, I haven't seen a single one of those people. It doesn't really matter though because I had what I came for.

The bottle of syrup is pretty big since the two of us go through a lot of that stuff. We eat a ton of pancakes. I tip the bottle over the warm stack, and golden syrup oozes out. I've probably got an unhealthy addiction it.

"Found you!"

Matthew's sudden appearance scares me so much that I kind of throw the syrup up into the air like an idiot. Of course that means I'm now covered in a sticky mess. I also accidentally transform into a cat. That tends to happen whenever I get too weak or emotionally agitated. Apparently, getting spooked counts.

"Dang it, Matthew!" I wipe syrup off my whiskers the best that I can. "I'm going to have to take another bath, and you know how much I hate baths." That's all part of being a cat girl. I'm not fond of water at all, except the drinking kind.

He looks apologetic and takes a step closer to me. "O-oh! I didn't mean for that to happen. I'm so sorry."

I'm not really unhappy with him. How could I be after seeing that sad face? I give him a flick of my pointy ears. "It's okay. Maybe I won't have to take a bath after all," I say as an idea comes to me.

I've got syrup all over my fur, but luckily cat tongues are made especially with cleaning in mind. Starting with my paws, I eventually work my way down to the tip of my tail. I flick it back and forth with satisfaction as my (h/c) fur shines. Even as a cat, I think I'm allowed to have some pride in how I look. I finally move on to my head, which is the hardest to clean. I have to lick my paw, and then wipe that across my head. It takes an eternity and a half to get all the syrup out.

"Done," I say with relief. "Let's never do that again."

"I agree." Matthew strokes my now clean head. "It's interesting to watch you as a cat. Sometimes I forget that you're a person too."

"I'm glad to know you like me as a cat best."

"That's not what I meant." He picks me up and cradles me in his arms. I breathe in his scent happily. He always smells like trees and grass. It's one of the best parts about him and smells ten times better when I'm a cat. "I like all of you, (y/n)."

"I know." It's hard to resist him when he's being adorable. I melt looking into his blue eyes. "I like all of you too, especially when you make pancakes."

He laughs at that. "Sometimes I think your heart and your stomach are connected."

"I blame that on the cat part of me." I sit up in his lap and give my tail a flick.

"I'm actually kind of happy that I got to scare you for once," he says with a grin.

"That was a fluke!" I let my cat instincts take over and start batting the curl in front of Matthew's face. "I won't let it happen again."

"Oh really?" He gives me a light poke in the side, and I jump away from him in surprise.

"Don't do that!"

"I didn't expect you to be so ticklish, (y/n), but it's the only way to get you off my pillow at night."

If I could blush as a cat, I would. I have my own room, but more often than not I sleep in Matthew's. Sometimes it was as a human, but usually as a cat. I already know that I sleep on his pillows since that's where I tend to plop myself every night. What I didn't know is that he would tickle me to get me off. I didn't even know that I'm ticklish until now. This could be problematic.

He reaches out and pokes me again before I can get away. A strange cross between a hiss and a laugh comes flying out of my mouth. I can feel the fur on the back of my neck standing on end, and keep a close eye on Matthew. There's no doubt that he's going to try to get me back for all those times I scared him.

"One step closer and the claws come out," I warn.

His eyes go wide. "You wouldn't." To prove that I mean business, I let my claws slide out and make sure he sees them. That'll show him not to tickle me. But his reaction isn't what I expected. He crosses his arms and smiles. "Okay, then no more kisses."

Dang it. He knows me too well. Curse me and my lack of self-control. "Fine." I retract my claws and look up at him with pleading feline eyes.

It seems like he can't resist me either because it doesn't take long for him to give in and pick me up. I shift back into my human form and give him a kiss on the nose while he continues to carry me. We stare into each other's eyes for a while and enjoy the moment. This is why I came all the way to Canada in the first place. It wasn't for the nature or the pancakes, even though those are a big plus. I came here to be with Matthew. He's one of the few people in the world who accepts me for me, fur and all.

He makes the first move. I actually secretly enjoy it when he takes the lead. His warm lips touch mine, and my heart takes off. I can never keep it under control whenever he's around. It flutters like a little bird in my chest as I return his kiss. He sets me down on the table and deepens the kiss by tilting my head back. His tongue flicks out to lick away the last of the syrup from my lips, and I let out a little squeal of happiness. My legs are still locked around his waist, but my hands start to stray up toward his wavy hair. He tastes just like maple syrup and pancakes.

"I love you," I whisper when we break for air. We lean our foreheads together and breathe in unison.

"I love you too," he says in a voice that sends chills down my spine. And this time, it was definitely not because of the weather.