Disclaimer - I do not own it. None! POR QUE!

A/N - Yay, people liked this story. I hope I don't disappoint you all now. (No pressure right?). And just like I promised, this chapter is longer! This hasn't been beta'd so please forgive any mistakes you see. If you would like to beta for me, then please send me a PM.

Enjoy!

Chapter two – No use crying over spilled milk!

Rain, he loved the rain. The way it cleared up the air; fed all the plants and animals, and just seemed to cleanse the world.

Rain, he loved the rain. Just not when it was pouring right down on him with cold winds. All he had to protect him was his favorite green hoodie. No umbrella or raincoat for him. Mr. Kumajiro was safely nestled withing the front pocket of his hoodie, sleeping. As long as the little bear didn't get wet he would be happy.

Matthew would be even happier, if he could make it to the super market. He was low on pancake mix and food for Kumajiro and had no other choice but to venture outside. It had been a lovely morning, not a cloud in sight and before he knew it, it was pouring rain. He should have read the morning paper like he had originally planed to do. But he usually did that while he ate a nice batch of pancakes. And since he had no pancakes, then there wasn't a chance for him to read the newspaper.

No pancakes = all other activities to be stopped.

No food for Kumajiro = a bitten hand.

All in all, it wasn't turning out to be a good day.

"Who?" He heard the small voice of ask.

"Canada!"

"Sure, why not?"

Realizing that the small polar bear was sleep talking, Matthew started to softly laugh. It usually bothered him when his own pet didn't know who he was. But he knew the poor bear was hungry and that the only way for him to forget his grumbling tummy was to sleep. He wished he could go to sleep just like too, but then they would still be in the same mess. Better to do what he needed now, than be in a foul mood for not doing it sooner.

Finally reaching the super market, Matthew grabbed a shopping cart and sat Mr. Kumajiro down in the toddler seat. The bear simply curled up into a small ball and went back to sleep. Matthew knew he would wake up as soon as they reached the fish aisle so he didn't bother trying to keep him awake.

Deciding he might as well get everything else he needed so he didn't need to keep coming back, he went to the vegetable aisle first. He felt like making some banana bread for Al, he knew his brother loved it almost most as much as the traditional American apple pie. Maybe after that he could make his Papa some éclairs , he was sure the French-man would love them.

After getting the bananas and some vegetables, he moved over to the other aisle looking the milk and eggs. As he was grabbing the milk he collided with someone else, causing him to drop the jug on the floor. "Maple, look at this mess!"

"Ve~ I'm so sorry, I tripped and lost my balance. I didn't mean to crash into you. Please, don't hurt me, I promise to clean up the mess. You don't have to worry about anything. I'll even buy you the milk myself, JUST PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!"

Matthew could only stare as he watched Northern Italy freak out and talk at what he could only guess was the speed of light. He knew it was Norther Italy because had it been Southern Italy, he was sure it would be raining tomatoes on him. Sometimes, he still didn't understand how those two were related.

"Uhm, Italy?"

Looking at him with tears in his eyes, Italy stopped trying to clean the floor (with his jacket) and stoop up. "Are you a country?" he asked in a whisper and looking around to make sure no one heard them.

"I'm Canada."

Italy was now looking at him with confusion in his eyes as he tried to remember who Canada was. Finally, after a couple of minutes, realization dawned on him and he finally remembered who the man standing before him was. "Ve~! That's right! I really am sorry you know."

Smiling softly, Matthew said, "It's fine, I should have been paying more attention anyhow, instead of just going off into my own little world." Looking at the cart next to the Italian, he saw that the man had filled it with different packages of pasta. He didn't even know the store carried so many different sorts of pasta.

Seeing where Matthew was staring at, Italy laughed nervously. "I guess I might have overdone it with the pasta, no?"

"Maybe, just a tad," Matthew admitted. "But it's okay, because I do the same thing with pancakes."

The word pancakes seemed to draw out a reaction from Italy because his eyes immediately light up. "Ve~ That's why I came here! I wanted to make Ludwig pancakes tomorrow, and what better place to get the ingredients than Canada?"

"Germany likes pancakes?" Matthew asked.

"Well, we don't eat them that often, but I wanted to make something different for him. Do you think he won't like them?" Italy asked, his voice laced with worry.

"No! That's not it!" Matthew quickly said. "I'm sure he's going to love them. Especially, since it is you who's making them." He could tell that Italy was still not convinced that Germany was going to like the pancakes, so he came up with an idea. "Listen, if you want, I could help you choose the perfect ingredients so that there's nothing for him to complain about."

"If it's not too much trouble, could you help me, please?"

Nodding his head, Matthew quickly grabbed two jugs of milk and handed one to Italy. "Here, you'll need this to make them."

As the two of them made their way to get the eggs, Italy turned to Matthew and said, "By the way, you can call me Feliciano, it's my human name."

"Oh, in that case, I'm Matthew."

Smiling, Feliciano turned to look at Matthew. "Hey, you don't have to tell me, but I was wondering, whose name did you get for the Secret Santa?"

It was as if his whole body had gone into lock down, because as soon as Feliciano had spoken those words, his whole world had come crashing down on him

"So, that's what I've been forgetting," he thought.

"Ve~? Matthew? Are you okay?" Feliciano asked him. When he didn't answer, the Italian started to poke him in the face. " Hello? Matthew to Earth?"

"Russia." Turning to look at the brunette, Matthew repeated himself, "I have to find Russia a present."

There was a long pause of silence between the two men as they stood near the eggs. It wasn't till a woman asked them to move so she could get her tray of eggs, that they spoke. Feliciano was the first of them to say something. " Ve~ ! You're so dead."

"Waahh! Please, don't say that!"

"Well, he's not exactly big brother Francis. Who would be happy with some wine or nice clothes. If he thinks you're insulting him with your present, he'll kill you with that pipe he always carries around," Feliciano said. Tears where already forming at the thought that Matthew might be beaten to death.

"Don't you think I know that?" Matthew yelled, but to Feliciano it sounded like a normal inside voice. "But it's not like I can go up to the man and say, 'Hey, I have to get you a present for Christmas. What would you like?'"

"Why can't you do that?" Felicano asked with a tilt of his head.

"Because he'll kill me! He'll think I don't care about what I give him and I'll upset him. Then he'll get his pipe out and...Alfred will not be able to put me back together. Papa will disown me for not being good looking and Arthur...will drink his tea."

Soft giggles made him glare at the Italian man. "It's not funny," he said sadly. Looking at his watch he saw that it was almost time for lunch."Listen, let's finish up here and we can go back to my place and I'll make us something to eat."

"Pasta?" Feliciano asked excitingly.

Looking at him confused, Matthew glanced down at noticing that the small bear was awake. "What do you want to eat, Mr. Kinmijari?"

"Who?"

"Ca-na-da," he said carefully.

"Food."

"What kind of food?" Matthew asked.

"The kind you eat, silly," the small bear answered, sticking his tongue out at his master.

Sighing, Matthew pushed his glasses up and made his way through the store finishing his shopping. He wanted to show Feliciano how to make good pancakes and maybe get some ideas in what he might be able to give Russia for Christmas.

Four batches of different pancakes and lot's of dishes later, and Matthew still had no clue what he was going to get Russia. Gathering the last empty bowl, he made his way to the sink to wash all of the dirty dishes. He had a dishwasher, but he liked washing the dishes by hand because it gave him time to think.

"What am I suppose to do?" he wondered out loud.

He didn't want to go to his Papa for advice. Knowing him, he might just end up running away from France with his trousers half way down his legs and his shirt all torn up. He definitely didn't want to repeat that birthday. He sometimes still had nightmares about it, though Gilbert thought it was "awesomely hilarious".

"That's it!" he said. Quickly rinsing the other dishes and throwing them into the dishwasher, he got his cell phone out and dialed the one number he hoped would be able to help him.

"Yo! You've reached epic awesomeness! Talk to me!"