Well, I've decided to finally write first chapter of this fic. It's my first AU fic (althaugh I've had some ideas of this kind of AU, earlier) and even if in poll about it voted only 5 persons, I wanted to write it. It will be rather about friendship between Germany and Italy, but there is also some.... Oh no! No spoilering!
BTW - it's my 20th story!
Please review.
Meet corporal Feliciano Vargas!
Major Roderich Edelstein sighed, leaning his palms on the desk and looking at the captain Ludwig Beilschmidt standing right before him. Major really didn't know what to do. This situation started to be pretty annoying.
"Another adjutant, Beilschmidt." Edelstein said, leaning his back on the chair. "Is this really so hard to keep them with you? I know, you like discipline, but do your latest assistant had to run two miles every day in the morning?!"
"Excuse me, sir, but my adjutant have to be ready for everything." Captain said, standing straight. "So his discipline and physical condition have to be on the top level."
"And he has to be also good in administration things, know five languages, make you tea and laundry, sort your letters and entertain you with conversation about philosophy, politics or culture. And in free time he must make an exercises from physics. Come on, Beilschmidt! No one is able to reach your ideal of adjutant!"
"But still I need one, major. It can be even total whimp. I will make him a man, it's no big deal, sir, but I really need an adjutant."
Major Edelstein sighed once again. His eyes was observing with silence tall blonde with blue eyes. This man was known of his love to perfection. He was trying to achieve it in both fighting skills and the rest more minor things. Moreover, he expected it from others. Every adjutant was breaking down after a week or less of being under his command. Major Edelstein felt pity about all those poor boys, he was sanding to Beilschmidt, but no one said that army is a kindergarten. Besides, major knew that Ludwig Beilschmidt wasn't a bad commander. He cared about his soldiers and knew what to do to motivate them. He was just too big perfectionist and that was the reason that he was hard to stand.
"Well then," Edelstein looked at him softer. He could see longing in the eyes of his underling. "I'll see, what I can do."
Smile spread on captain Beilschmidt face.
"Thank you, sir. Good bye, sir." He saluted and left the room.
Feliciano Vargas was – as he once said about himself – silly boy, who loved pasta and pizza. He always tried to look for a good things in his life and in others behaviors. He was rather social person – he liked to talk a lot, flirt with cute girls, ask people, how they are doing. And he knew that many people was just unhappy and this unhappiness was the cause of their, sometimes really bad, acts. How wonderful would be erase all those tragedies and make this world better place? How wonderful would be bring to every unfortunate soul a smile? That's why Feliciano Vargas was always ready to lean the helpful hand to everybody.
Now he was sitting nervously in the car that was bringing him to his destiny. Outside the window he could see the traverse, where young and those a bit older soldiers where running through the course, or doing general exercise, like push-ups, or practicing the drill. When Feliciano saw how few nameless soldiers were on a command gathering with each other the parts of the gun, he felt the cold sweat running from his forehead, down the face and neck to his collar. His eyes were for a moment observing, widened and away, the soldiers. Even if the glass of car was silencing the sound of cling that guns was making during loading, he was still hearing it in his mind. And it still was making him trembling.
Man, he hated guns…
The car stopped before the tent of the main commander. It was normal military tent – khaki-green and square. In fact it was two tents connected with each other. Feliciano opened the car doors shyly and stood on the ground that supposed to be from now on the part of his working place. He felt quite nervous about this whole moving thing. When he found out that he will be moved from the save, yet boring archives in headquarters to this outpost, ruled by captain Beilschmidt, he was firstly excited that he will finally go out from the dark archives, but right after this he felt a fear that he would have to fight or something. And when he told about it others, they scared him even more. He still heard their voices in his ears.
"What? You're going to be next Beilschmidt's adjutant? You're doomed, dude." Oh, Sadiq was always good at cheering up.
"Yes, you couldn't stack worse. I'm pity of you." Arthur also was rather concern.
"Why?" Feliciano asked innocently, clueless about what they could have on their minds.
"You never heard about him?" Sadiq's eyebrows rose and Turk rested his hand of Feliciano's shoulder in friendly gesture. "He's really strict. Normally a walking perfection. Every previous adjutant couldn't hang on there for less then week."
"People say," Arthur started. "that he order his adjutant to run on a drills every day and he often makes them the white glove test. You won't handle it, Vargas. You're too weak to surpass the running around the outpost, and too carefree to clean everything perfectly."
"Well," Feliciano smiled widely. "maybe this guy isn't that bad as people say. I'm sure, there must be some good points of being his adjutant."
Feliciano, led by car driver, walked in to the first tent, where was only the desk with writing machine, with phone and with some old chair, and few archive closets. Feliciano knew that it will be his working place. Well, at least he will feel some fresh air. Next, driver ordered Feliciano to wait for a moment, then he came in to other tent through the entrance in the cotton wall. Feliciano could hear, how he was saluting, and then he heard the voice of captain Beilschmidt himself:
"At ease, soldier." It was deep voice of someone, who was screaming vary often. Typical commander, but Feliciano didn't want to judge his new superior yet. "You must be my new adjutant. They said that you will come today."
"No, sir, it's not me. I only drove him here."
"So bring him here. I want to see him already."
"Sir, yes, sir."
Soon Feliciano was standing in front of the man. Captain Ludwig Beilschmidt was sitting at his desk with portfolio in his hands. He looked, once at his new adjutant, then on the files. The tension was increasing its zenith and Feliciano was afraid that something could go wrong. This man already seemed to be scary – with this seriousness on the face and with this tall body (even, when he was sitting, Feliciano could say that he was pretty high).
Ludwig Beilschmidt couldn't resist the impression that this guy before him was weak. Corporal Feliciano Vargas – as the portfolio was saying about his grade and name – was small brunette with big, chocolate eyes, skinny posture and chubby face. Great, they've sent him another baby.
Captain Beilschmidt threw the files on the table, stood up and came closer to his new adjutant. He was observing him with cold, researching glare. Smaller man gulped and started to trembling a little. But he quickly calmed himself down.
"So, corporal Vargas," Captain started, breaking the very disturbing silence. Feliciano had the impression that his gaze became more neutral. "you're Hispanic?"
"No, sir. I'm an Italian." Feliciano responded. His quiet, squeaky, almost girly voice made Ludwig think that he will have to deal with a fairy guy. On the other hand Feliciano found the question about his ethnical origin as a bad sign.
"Corporal Vargas, your files says that you was a minor archivist in headquarter."
"Yes, sir. I was working in the archives for about a year."
"Do you have any education?"
"Yes, sir." Feliciano smiled lightly. "I've studied law and administration on University of Padua, sir. Isn't it in my files?"
"I'm the one, who's asking the questions, corporal." Captain said coldly.
"Yes, sir." Feliciano nodded with fear.
"Now, listen to me, carefully, corporal. I won't be tolerating" He started to count on the fingers. "the mess on your bed and desk, you coming late or being late with reports, flirting with women in work time and any kind of insubordination. Every morning you will be spending on drills with others, because I already see, you're rather weak. I'm drinking earl gray tea with half spoon of milk, but without any sugar or lemon. Understand, corporal?"
"Yes, sir, but…" Feliciano rolled his eyes.
"But what, corporal?" Ludwig asked suspiciously.
"How about pasta?" Nervous grin spread on Italian's face.
"Pasta?"
"Can I do some in my free time?"
"I doubt that you could find any ingredients here. We're pretty far from civilization, you know? But you can eat whatever you want, unless it's not during work time."
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Now go out, take your bags. I've told guy named Matthew Williams that when you will arrive, he will have to show you your tent."
"Sir, yes, sir!"
Feliciano saluted and left the tent. When he was finally out, he saw at the car guy with glasses, who was now taking out from the car Feliciano's baggage. Corporal came to him and smiled friendly leaning his hand.
"My name is Feliciano Vargas. I'll be captain Beilschmidt new adjutant."
Soldier looked at him surprised. He shook his hand with shy smile and whisper:
"I'm Matthew Williams. Normally, I'm working in the kitchen, but captain ordered me to show you your tent." He smiled and said: "Come with me."
He led him to the lonely tent that was quite near the captain's 'office'. There were one folding table with three chairs; and three beds. Two were occupied by Matthew and other guy, who seemed to be Matt's twin. This twin, seeing the guest, stood up from the bed and shook Feliciano's hand harshly, greeting him loudly.
"I'm Alfred Williams. If you want any advice, you can always run to me."
"Thanks. I'm Feliciano Vargas by the way." Italian said shyly.
"Nice to meet you."
When Feliciano's hand had been finally released from the grip, he took his baggage and put it under the bed, then he lied on the same bed and sighed deeply. He already knew it's going to be really hard.