The shout shot Germany through the heart, threatening to explode in his chest. Italy exclaimed to the whole building that he had his name, proudly at that. But Germany was certain that he had Spain before. He must have traded with someone just so he could get his name. The thought sent shivers down Germany's spine as well as warmed his heart.

The German country bent his head down in thought, his eyes looking right through the coffee in his hand. Italy was going to give him a gift for Christmas. Why did it feel like he swallowed a bunch of butterflies when he thought about it?

The Italian nation was probably smiling that radiant smile right now. His eyes were probably closed but still shining like stars behind the lids, Germany would love to see the nation's eyes more often. They were a golden hue that his own could never copy. Once upon a time, Germany had a boss that thought only blue eyes like Germany's could ever be beautiful. That man had been an idiot. He obviously never seen Italy's eyes, the way they shone with the color of amber.

He became flustered the more he thought about Italy and he was thinking about the country more and more these days.

"Hey bruder! Did you hear zat?"

Prussia appeared instantly with a glass of beer in his hand rather than a cup of coffee. They weren't supposed to be drinking right now but Prussia figured the rules didn't apply to him. The little bird was fluttering around him enthusiastically, as if it was getting excited for the holidays.

"Italy haz your name. Whazzat about? What are you going to do then? Trade til you get his?"

"How do you know I don't already have it?" Germany refused to look at his older brother, trying not to betray his own emotions. Prussia could read him too easily.

"Because you're all pouty and stuff. You vouldn't be like that with his name in your hand. Admit it. You vant to trade."

"Nein. It's against the rules."

"So are you going to reprimand Italy zen? We all know he had Spain before."

This struck Germany silently, swiping away any retort like a flame on a match. Prussia saw the lost look in his brother's eyes.

"Iz not like you really care about zis competition. You can use this as an excuse to give your love bird something."

He hated it when Prussia was right about something. This was the perfect opportunity to give Italy a gift. Nations hardly ever gave each other gifts, even on Christmas. It was just something they rarely did, years went by too quickly for Christmas to be as special to them as it was to their people.

"I don't even know who has his name."

"But I do. It's obvious America has it," Prussia said with all the certainty in the world.

"Vat!" Germany exclaimed, accidentally spilling some of his coffee, "How do you know?"

"Because he's screaming 'The pasta zude iz easy to please. He just likes pasta.'"

"Are you sure he didn't mean Romano?"

"Spain has Romano. He told me. The spaz was all happy about it too."

Germany growled silently. He hated it when people so blantly disrespected rules. They were not meant to be broken and yet his brother exchanged information not even half an hour after the rules were set.

Prussia saw his brother's sour mood with a smile. The albino always loved teasing his brother and really, the stick in the mud needed to loosen up. Big brother knew best and Prussia knew that Germany would be happy with Italy.

He could play Cupid better than Cupid could. He was awesome like that.

"Angry bruder? Well, America's right over there talking to England. This might be your only chance," he said with a sing-song voice.

Germany looked where his brother was pointing to. Sure enough, the strange spectacled nation was talking to England about something, smiling and waving his arms at whatever discussion they were having.

Before he knew it, his legs carried him closer to them. England set his green eyes on the German.

"Hello Germany."

"Hallo," Germany greeted, "May I speak to you please, America?"

England seemed a bit shock that Germany would want to speak to America. America didn't, smiling with a wave to his English friend.

"Sure, bro. I know how awesome I am," was he related to Prussia or something? "What's up?"

Germany grabbed America's shoulder and brought him to a private room. Now America seemed curious.

"I heard you had Italy's name."

"What? Dude, who told you?" America demanded.

"Germany just shook his head.

"Never mind dat. I vas just wondering if you vould like to trade?"

"We can do that?"

With any luck, America did his usual thing and didn't listen to Germany at all when he was explaining the rules.

"Yes, of course."

America frowned skeptically, making Germany blink.

"You just want an easy advantage so you can win. Forget it. Italy's mine."

"How dare you! You can make no such claim to Italy if he doesn't vant you to."

Pause, then silence. America stared at Germany in shock.

"Um…you know I mean his name is mine. You know, for the contest?"

Germany took a step back with cheeks warming with fresh blood. America didn't mean…Of course he didn't.

"I…uh. Of course. It was just a joke," it was a stupid lie.

Fortunately for him, America was also stupid. He believed it.

"So unless you have someone I know better than Italy, I'm not going to trade-"

"I have England's name."

"Deal!" America screamed.

Germany and the weird American country traded without further discussion. America looked at the name and beamed as if he already won.

"Sweet, dude. I know everything about Iggy. I'm totally going to win without even trying. Hahaha!"

As happy as America was, it was nothing in comparison to the heartwarming bliss Germany felt when he saw Italy's name on that tiny piece of paper.