A/N: Yes, something that's actually in South America this time. I found out that South and Middle America is where tomatoes first came from, and that nobody in Europe knew what a tomato was before the Spanish discovered more of the New World. Hetalia is not owned by me, and I believe we should all know that by now. If you don't, I'm kind of worried for you.

Tawantinsuya is what the Incas referred to their empire as. It means "Land of the Four Corners", for they believed they had conquered all four corners of the world.

Pura vida, to do ésta bien~

"Spain. Spain. Spain. SpainSpainSpainSpainSpain SpainSpainSpainSpainSpain SpainSpainSpainSpainSpain."

Antonio peeked his head up from where he was snoring away, which, this time, was in his meal of corn, fish, and potatoes. "Ah…? Oh… Lovi… Hiiiii….." he smiled droopily. Romano dealt him a swift smack on his little brunette head almost immediately. "Think about where you are, dumbass."

"What?" Letting his eyes wander about the room, they widened as he saw who was here with him. Around the table sat Francisco Pizarro, Atahualpa, Tawantinsuya, and a few other Inca officials and Spanish men. Oh yes. Dinner. With a bunch of important people.

"Eheheheheh….." he giggled awkwardly, his voice rising in pitch until it could not possibly be defended as anything else but a squeak. Very impressive of the most powerful empire in the world.

"Sorry." He smiled apologetically but appeared to be in hysterics inside, twitching as if he was having a spasm attack, grinning like a madman, and to top it all off, giggling nervously.

Pizarro shot him a stern look, and Spain flinched involuntarily at the steely gaze; conquistadors as powerful as him were like bosses to him, after the Royals and the Church. Atahualpa looked strangely at him; wondering if this was common among "sun warriors." The others just shrugged it off and resumed their meal. Tawantinsuyu nudged him quietly, causing Antonio to turn his head at him. "They're going to bring out another dish soon; would you like to skip out on it? Are you full?"

"No, not at all. Just…" he paused for a minute before continuing. "Tired, from all these expeditions. There are many things weighing on my mind; I have already grown so much that my body is torn up with scars already. I am troubled with endless problems and concerns and they keep me up, sleepless, every night." He sighed.

Tawantinsuyu nodded. "I understand. I have conquered all four corners of the world, I am large and divided and know as much pains as you do." Spain let a grin spread across his face. No, you don't. "Thank you."

A few native servants came in and brought out a dish, seeming to be a mixture of vegetables. One of them put it down on the table, and as he turned away, he seemed to drop something he was holding in his hand as well. It rolled on the floor, bumping gently into Spain's leather boot. Antonio reached down from his seat, picking it up and examining the foreign food. "I've never seen this before. It's red. Oh my God, is it poisoned?!" he shrieked, dropping the object. Tawantinsuyu picked it up from it's returned spot on the floor.

"Of course not, it's called a tomato." He explained to the foreigner. "T-tomato? What is that?" Antonio interrogated suspiciously, edging away from the alien food. "It's actually quite delicious, would you like to try?" Tawantinsuya asked innocently, holding out the red fruit to him. Spain glanced up and down, at the unknown food article, then at the native nation, then back. "Alright…" With that, he took the food from him, grasping it steadily in his hands. Pizarro and a few other Spanish men stiffened; if this was an attack planned by the natives to try and take their country out with poisoned food, they would not hesitate to cut them down immediately.

"Nooooo!" Antonio froze, the hand making its way towards his mouth halted, the red skin of the tomato brushing up gently against his soft, lush lips. A wailing could be heard from his side, and not a second later he felt a small body crash into his back, little hands coming around his sides to grip his chest in a bone crushing jump-hug. Romano sobbed into his shoulder, screaming in his ears at the same time. "IF YOU EAT THAT AND DIE -AND I KNOW THAT YOU WILL BECAUSE YOU'RE A STUPID BASTARD- I'M NEVER GONNA FORGIVE MYSELF AND THEN I'LL HAVE ALL THAT REGRET IN ME AND IT'LL BE ALL YOUR DAMN FAULT AND I'M NOT GONNA LET YOU FORCE ME ONTO THAT GUILT TRIP YOU INSENSITIVE JERK!"

"Lovi… you mean… you'd actually miss me if I died?" Spain spoke, almost disbelievingly. True, he was a nation and couldn't die. But it would still suck if he got poisoned; every time a nation got "killed" they, as individuals, would be weak as well as constantly ill for the next year or so.

"Of course I would you damn bastard! I wouldn't get to see you smile or anything like that for over a year and I can 't take that! And- oh. Um," he paused, blushing bashfully as he realized what the words coming out of his mouth were. "And…. And I'd have to explain to a crying Veneciano and I don't wanna have to take responsibility for your damn stupid actions. AND THAT'S ALL. NOTHING ELSE. Bastard." He finished, trying to excuse his previous words.

"Oh Roma, you're so cute. But I'm eating it anyways." Spain ruffled his companion's hair into a bit of a disheveled mess, to which Romano hissed at him. "Whatever," he snapped bitterly. "Don't listen to me."

Antonio nodded cheerfully at him, took a lasting glance at the fruit, before thrusting part of it in his mouth and chomping down on it. His eyes widened in absolute shock, and his body seemed to jolt, as if with electricity. His eyes then took on a relaxed, trance-induced stare, and he swallowed after two whole minutes of just chewing. He had to sit down- he crashed down into a chair, gripping the edge of the wooden table for support, quivering all over.

"OHMYGODYOUAREDYINGNOOOOOOO!" Romano screeched, tears pouring down his face. Pizarro and his men bolted from their seats, their swords at the natives' necks before they could speak.

"Roma…" Spain whispered hoarsely. "Y-yes?" Lovino answered, his pink bottom lip trembling in a hectic, disorderly rhythm with the salty tears that dripped down his cheeks.

"Roma… this…. This is… the most beautiful thing in the world…" his voice shook with awe.

Pizarro and his men released their holds on the Incas and looked at them with a hint of apology. Lovino glared at his friend with high levels of irritation surrounding him.

"Why do have to be so weird, huh? Going and scaring the crapola out of us like that! You and your stupid obsessions." He started off with. Spain just continued to gaze blankly into space; he looked like he was on drugs. He still was in amazement, and he began to smile blissfully as he shook with happiness.

"It can't be that good, bastard. No. That's what I should call you. The 'tomato bastard.' There. That's the perfect name for you. Why are you smiling like that? And you're shaking too- are you crying?"