A/N: Probably the second last fic/update of this year

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia

Who needs plans when it's Christmas?

On the morning of Christmas Eve Germany expected his plans for the day to go without fail; the plan being to travel with Italy in a leisurely manner to their holiday house somewhere in the Alps where they would stay until their bosses finally called them to drag them back to work. Unfortunately he shouldn't have counted his chickens before they hatched.

The call came while Germany was preparing breakfast as Italy slumbered on; the lack of coffee scented air preventing him from waking. Germany sighed, removed the pan of scrambled eggs from the stove and picked up his phone. A glance at caller ID revealed it was his boss.

'Hallo?'

'Deutschland is it possible for you to come to a meeting today?' her tone implied it wasn't exactly a question.

Germany took at glance in the direction of the bedroom where Italy was still sleeping.

'But my holiday started two days ago,' he protested.

'It's urgent,'

'When does this meeting start?' he asked cautiously, trying not to agree to anything yet.

'In an hour,' came the rather terse reply, clearly his boss was stressed about something.

An hour, that was okay. It was still early in the morning and if Germany's calculations were correct it would only set them back three hours; which wouldn't matter if nothing else happened.

'I'll be there as soon as I can,' he said, before hanging up without waiting for a reply.

Prussia was supposed to be handling all work related matters while Germany was on holiday – it was only fair seeing as he spent the better half of the year doing practically nothing. So why did Germany suddenly need to go to a meeting? Especially at this time of the year?

If this meeting is Prussia's fault, Germany grumbled as he wrote a note to Italy explaining the situation before switching on the coffee machine and putting bread in the toaster, I am going to throw out all the presents I bought him.

Italy woke up on Christmas Eve to the scent of coffee and an empty bed, pulling on an oversized shirt (that he'd "borrowed" from Germany) he trotted towards the kitchen expecting a morning kiss.

'Germany?' he called into the empty kitchen.

After five minutes of running through the house and peering around doors, Italy finally discovered the note on the kitchen bench.

'Oh,' Italy's curl drooped in disappointment as he read the words.

He brightened as he noticed the eggs, toast and coffee.

'At least Germany made breakfast!'

While Italy was eating his second piece of toast and already pondering what type of pasta to cook for lunch the home phone rang.

'Pronto?'

'Bonjour, mon cherie Italie,'

'Ve, Big Brother France! If you're looking for Germany he left for a meeting a while ago; it a bit sad because it's Christmas Eve.' Italy pouted slightly.

'Don't be silly, I was looking for you. You didn't answer your mobile or your home phone, so I figured you'd be staying with Allemagne for Christmas.'

'Of course, he stayed over last Christmas but Roma wasn't too happy about it for some reason…' Italy trailed off and searched for his mobile phone in his pants pockets before realising his pants were on the bedroom floor. 'Wait, why are you looking for me? Did something bad happen?'

'Oh non, I just wanted to ask if you wanted to come Christmas shopping with me today?'

Italy glanced at the clock then back at the note Germany had written.

'Germany's not going to get home for a while, and shopping sounds fun, so I'll come! Just let me get dressed.'

He heard a chuckle from France from the other side of the line before agreeing to meet the other nation in Paris as soon as he could.

Germany checked his watch as he left the Reichstag – good, he was early. The meeting had in fact had nothing to do with Prussia at all; a junior minister had misfiled some critical documents and his boss had deemed it important enough to summon the national personification to a meeting over it. Thankfully the documents were soon found and the meeting had been cut short. He pulled his phone from his briefcase and pressed "1" to speed dial Italy.

He didn't realise he'd been frowning until Italy's cheerful "Ve, Germany!" caused him to crack a fond smile.

'Hallo Italy,' he greeted. 'The meeting ended early, I'll be home very soon Liebe.'

'Veee…'

Germany could practically feel Italy frowning on the other end.

'Is something wrong?'

'No, no. It's just that I'm in Paris doing Christmas shopping with Big Brother France right now. It's really fun even though Big Brother is buying most of things and I have to hold them when he goes into the shops. Also I think I saw Australia but he went into a souvenirs shop and then later I saw America and asked him if it was Australia and he said that it was and they were buying England's Christmas present. I wonder what the present was? And there was a—'

'Italy,' Germany cut his lover off before he could succumb to his recently acquired habit of nodding along to the rambling. 'When can you get back?'

'Ve, I don't know. Big Brother France says he wants to take me to lunch at a restaurant that's just opening today. Oh, he's waving at me now—'

The phone crackled as Italy broke off.

'Italy?'

'Oh sorry, Big Brother says the place is about to open and we should hurry to avoid the queue,'

Germany sighed, and then supposed that it was his fault for going to the meeting.

'It's okay, you enjoy lunch. I'll go home and get our things before I meet you at the holiday house.'

'Ve, are you sure? Big Brother France says we can save a seat for you.'

'It'll be faster if I get our things now,' Germany said firmly despite an image of Italy's pouting expression entering his mind. 'Don't get lost on your way there and remember not to go through Switzerland's yard.'

'Okay, see you later. Ti amo.'

'Ich liebe dich,'

After shooing Prussia back into the basement by reassuring him that – Yes I will have fun, no I won't get too drunk (who are you to lecture me on that anyway?) and Bruder, no. I don't need to hear that again – Germany finally could make sure everything was properly packed.

Why did Prussia see the need to give the "birds and the bees" speech Germany went anywhere alone with Italy was a mystery – it wasn't like Hungary hadn't already gotten around to that almost a century ago.

Germany had checked the suitcases, (shaken his head and taken out a few excess packets of pasta), made Prussia recited all the chores he was supposed to do daily (not that he'd actually do half of them), checked the locks on all the windows (because one could never be too careful) and then about to leave when he realised Austria was sitting on the living room sofa.

'What are you doing here?' he spluttered.

'Tsk, where are your manners today, Deutschland? I am merely making a, ah, social call.'

Germany swore he could hear hissing laughter coming from the basement. Verdammt Bruder, you could have warned me.

'But how did you get in? I definitely locked the door.'

'You gave your spare key to Hungary; she lent it to me,'

Germany had in fact given the spare key to Hungary due to the fact that he didn't entirely trust Prussia to look after the house while he was gone. But why did she just have to give it to Austria?

After a brief silence Austria huffed and spoke:

'Hungary heard you and Italy were leaving and wanted you both over for a family Christmas dinner at my house. Unfortunately, the "family" part means that your imbecile of a brother has to come as well.' He pushed up his glasses as a gagging noise came from the general direction of Prussia's basement. 'It's non-negotiable in case either of you have any ideas.'

'Damn you Specs!' came Prussia's curse.

Germany sighed and called Italy to inform him of the latest change in plans, but for some reason Italy didn't pick up.

The sun was setting and Italy was out of breath by the time he arrived at a dark holiday house. Despite his promise to Germany he had managed to get lost several times and narrowly avoided being shot by Switzerland so many times he'd lost count. But something was wrong, the house was completely dark; there would have been lights on and smoke coming from the chimney if Germany was already there. He tried the door – it was locked.

He peered through the dark corridor after letting him in – a first; usually Germany found his key faster.

'Germany?'

The silence that answered him was almost eerie in the usually festive house. Italy reached for his phone, but it wasn't in any off his pockets. He vaguely remembered something falling out of a pocket the first time Switzerland took a shot at him and made his way to the house phone, feeling his way through the dark.

Germany picked up on the first ring.

'Italy!' his relief was audible. 'Why didn't you pick up your mobile? I kept calling you. I was getting so worried. Are you okay?'

'I'm fine, Germany,' Italy laughed in relief as well. 'I think I might need a new phone though. Where are you?'

'At Austria's place, he's a bit annoyed with you for "not coming to the special family Christmas dinner Hungary prepared for all of us",'

'Oh, is everyone there? Let me say hi to them all!'

Germany's phone was passed around hectically a few times as Hungary and Prussia scrambled to get their Christmas wishes through before Austria gave a calm greeting and handed the phone back to Germany.

'So when will you get here?' Italy asked.

'I'm leaving now,' there was a protest (probably Prussia) from the table which was quickly silenced (probably by Hungary). 'I'll get there sooner if the roads are favourable.'

'Ve, alright. I'll take the dust covers off the furniture and the tree.'

'Have you eaten?'

Italy's stomach grumbled in response.

'Not yet, but I'll make pasta so we can have a midnight snack.'

'Alright,' Germany laughed. 'But don't make too much. I'll be there very soon.'

'See you later,'

Italy got the house and pasta ready in record time so that he could duck outside to retrieve sometime. Everything would be perfect when Germany got there.

As Germany neared the holiday house, he noticed it looked like a scene out of a Christmas card. Smoke billowed from the chimney, the exterior was bedecked with fairy lights and the windows glowed a faint gold.

Germany checked his watch again as he walked towards the door, it was already midnight, he almost groaned. Almost; because at that moment the door flew open and a small gust of pasta scented air blew out. Italy stood smiling in the doorway, cheeks rosy either from running around the house or exposure to the icy alpine air.

'I'm sorry I'm late—oh,'

Italy had pointed up at the door frame and Germany's gaze followed to alight on the sprig of mistletoe hanging from the wood. In the doorway Italy's smile grew wider as he beckoned Germany with a finger. After a moment's hesitation Germany abandoned the suitcases and stepped inside.

'Fröliche Weihnachten,' he said against Italy's lips.

'Buon Natale,' Italy breathed into Germany's ear moments later.

After remembering and rescuing the luggage, Italy and Germany lazed by the fireplace enjoying the pasta, each other's company and watched the flames dance. Laying his head down on Germany's shoulder, Italy stifled a yawn. Germany heard it anyway.

'It's late, we should go to bed,' he murmured. 'Maybe we should put out the fire so Finland can come down the chimney later.'

'Good idea,' Italy yawned again and allowed Germany to do just that as he ambled towards the bedroom.

Little did Germany know that Italy had lined the entire corridor leading to the bedroom with mistletoe, and that he planned to stop Germany under every single sprig of it.

Merry Christmas