((A/N: I had this sitting in my notebook and decided to share it with you. Read and review please!))

"Hey, Vash?"

"Yeah?"

"Is this cheese expired?"

The Swiss raised his head at the question. Expired cheese? "How am I supposed to know? Your the one who practically records everything that goes into the fridge." There was a lot of truth in that statement. For whatever reason the Prussian could come up with, he seemed to always know what was in the fridge.

"This isn't in the fridge, now walk your lazy ass over here." Well, at least he isn't throwing a hissy fit, though that was a little concerning. Besides that whatever the hell is up with this cheese better be worth his time.

With a sigh, Vash stood up from the couch, threw the magazine over his shoulder onto the couch. He checked the kitchen seeing the silverette's back to him. He was looming over something, presumably the cheese. The Swiss walked up beside him, looking at what was on the counter.

That didn't look like cheese.

What was there may or may not have passed for bleu-cheese depending on how merciful the judge was. The bleu looked a little more towards green and there were black spots all dotting it all over. He couldn't smell it from the entrance to the kitchen, but now that he was up closer he could like something had burned. Along with a smell of chemicals, it was all a little bit, revolting, to say the least. All of that in a plain grey bowl.

"I think I just saw it move..."

"Then you've been staring at it for too lo- your gonna poke it with my fork?"

Gilbert looked at Vash dead-strait in the eyes and said "You have a problem with that?"

Vash glared at him, "I paid good money for that."

"You paid a dollar-fifty for a full set of twenty, quit complaining." He started poking it.

It didn't move, it jiggled, but otherwise didn't move.

"At least its not alive." He looks at the fork.

"Give it. I'm throwing it away"

"Careful, I think it has radiation."

The Swiss backed his hand away, "What makes you say that?"

The Prussian held up the fork for him to see. It was melting.

"Do you think America is up at this time?"

"Your not going to feed it to him are you?" If he didn't know any better, that question would have seemed joking. Vash knew better than that, the question hid an otherwise silent threat.

Although it made sense to ask, the American was rumoured to be able to consume anything. Whether that was true or not, Alfred hasn't clarified.

"Calm down, I was just wondering if he still had that suit for... this." He pointed to the black-green-white goo thingy. "Oh yeah, that's right." They simultaneously glanced at the clock behind them. "It's eight-twenty p.m., wouldn't he be playing video games or something?" "He just came back from a G8 meeting in Germany, he's probably suffering from jet-lag."

They spent about five minutes brainstorming what country might be equipped to handle radioactive cheese, and might be currently free to travel at the moment.

Then it hit him. "That's not my bowl."

"Huh?" Said smartly by Prussia.

"I don't have that color bowl in my cabinets."

"... I don't see where this is going?"

"This came from someone else's house."

"Okay, and your point?"

At this point, Vash was glaring at Gilbert's slowness in the situation. "You know, nevermind. I'll call whoever group deals with this later." He gave a sigh and walked towards the couch, as the Prussian chuckled at the Swiss's frustration.

"You need to get cooking, by the way, it is your turn."

"Yeah, yeah, shut up."