(A/N): Thanks again for the reviews! Here's the third chapter! WARNING: Some cursing will be in here, mostly from Romano

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya

Pasta is My Cure!

Chapter Three

As Romano began to cook in the kitchen, Germany went to Italy's room to see how he was. When he got there, Spain was there, talking to the Italian man. "So Ita-chan, how is it being sick?" Spain asked, slightly worried. Italy just smiled, and responded to him in his cheery voice.

"It's not so bad, big brother Spain!" Italy exclaimed, "But that means I don't have to go to World Conferences, and that's good!" Spain chuckled, and ruffled up Italy's hair.

Spain then noticed Germany, and smiled at him. "He's doing fine." Spain said, smiling widely. "By the way, where's Romano?"

"He's making some pasta for Italy." Germany explained. Spain nodded, and got up from his seat. Spain walked past where the German was, and told him something before he left.

"I'll leave you with Ita-chan. I'll see what's Roma's doing." Spain said, chuckling a little and going towards the kitchen. Spain closed the door behind him, and went to the foul-mouthed Italian.

Germany and Italy were left alone, and it became a bit silent. Germany went to the seat where Spain was, and waited for anybody to speak up first. Italy was the first to speak up. "Hey Germany, I haven't seen you since I took a siesta." Italy said, his eyes closed and smiling.

Germany smiled to himself, and sat down next to Italy. "Vell, I vas buying somezhing for you." Italy tilted his head slightly, and looked a tad confused.

"Ve? What is it, Germany?"

"I vanted to make some pasta for you..." Germany admitted, a light blush showing across his face. Italy noticed this, and chuckled lightly.

"Germany, you don't have to do that for me." Italy said, smiling at the German. Italy's stomach then grumbled again, this time loudly. Italy then felt a quick rush of heatness going to his forehead, and he placed a hand in his head.

"Ugh..."

Germany noticed this and looked at the Italian worriedly. "Italy? Vhat's vrong?" Germany asked, "Do you need some medicine?" Italy shook his head, and tried to force a smile. But instead, a quivery smile was formed.

"It's... It's okay Germany..." Italy said quickly, "I guess that my fever came back again..." Germany blinked, and placed a hand in the Italian's forehead. Italy felt his forehead cool when Germany placed his hand there, and began to blush lightly.

"Germany..." Italy began to say, but the German cut him off.

"You should rest more, Italy."

"Ve? Why?"

Germany took his hand away from Italy's forehead. Veneziano felt a bit dissapointed, the coolness of Germany's hand wasn't in his forehead anymore. "Your fever is still high. I'll check on you later." Germany got up from his seat, and went to he door.

He then opened it, and Italy began to speak up. "You'll come back, right?" Germany stopped on his tracks, and looked at the auburn headed Italian. Germany smiled lightly, and nodded.

"Yes Italy, I'll come back. Don't vorry, now go to sleep." Germany turned off the lights, and the light in the window only showed in Italy's room. Germany closed the door, and Italy was by himself again.

Italy yawned, and his stomach began to growl really loudly. "I'm so hungry..." Italy mumbled to himself, going to sleep once again, and starving (The poor guy...).

Germany went to the kitchen, only to find the Spaniard and Italian arguing over something. "Tomato bastard, let me do it!" Romano exclaimed, garbbing something from Spain, "I know how to do it, I don't need your help!"

"But Roma," Spain began to say, trying to grab the object from South Italy's hand, "Your doing it all wrong!" Spain successfully grabbed it, and Romano soon got pissed.

"Bastard! Give that to me!"

"¡No! I'll do it!" Spain shouted back, "Ita-chan likes my cooking better!"

"He never eats your food, you fucking tomato bastard!"

"Oh yes he does, you just don't see him!"

"Vhat is going on?!" Germany asked, getting inbetween to two of them. Romano glared at the Spaniard, while Spain was holding the object protectively in his hands.

The Italian then started to point at the Spaniard. "This stupid bastardo won't let me do the cooking!" Romano exclaimed, "I already cutted the tomatoes, just give it to me dammit!"

"No!" Spain responded, shaking his head, "I want to help too! But you won't let me!" Romano soon got angry again, but Germany held him back before he could touch the brunette.

"Alright, alright," Germany said, holding back Romano, "Vhat about I do it my myself?" The two brunettes stared at him. Blinked, and stared.

"You're serious?" Romano asked, calming down from his little outburst. "You think I should let you cook pasta for my fratello?" Germany nodded, and Spain then looked down to the object in his hands.

"Ja, I don't see the problem." Germany insisted, not trying to get into a fight with the Italian, "Let me do the cooking from now on, and you can work things out with Spain." Romano growled, and crossed his arms.

"No! I'm not talking to that tomato bastard!" Romano exclaimed, shaking his head, "He got me mad once, and I won't listen to him!" Spain chuckled at this, and went to him. The brunette placed a hand on Romano's shoulder, and smiled at him.

"Aw, come on. We have to work things out, Roma." Spain said, poking the Italian's cheek, "Let Germany do the cooking, si?" Romano glared at the Spaniard, but took a deep breath.

"Fine," He said, a light blush showing across his face, "Just because Spain and I have to work things out, not because I want to, got that potato bastard?!" Germany nodded, and Spain and South Italy went somewhere else.

Germany pulled up his sleeves, and looked at the kitchen counter table. The tomatoes were all cutted, and only one box of pasta was shown. The German grabbed it, and looked at its name. "Alright, so zhis is zhe one..." He muttered, and placed it back to the kitchen table.

He then got all the things ready, the pot full of water is now boiling, and placed the pasta into the pot. He then blended all of the tomatoes in the blender, and things moved smoothly for him. After a few minutes, the pasta was now ready, and took it out of the pot.

He then grabbed a plate, and placed the noodles there. The tomato sauce was ready, and he placed it on top of the pasta. "Zhere, all done..." He said to himself, looking at the work he has done. Surprisingly, the pasta wasn't that big of a mess that he thought it would be.

He grabbed the plate of pasta in his hand, and went towards Veneziano's room. He opened it slowly, only finding Italy awake, looking outside the window next to him. Italy noticed the blond, and smiled. "Ve, hi Germany!" Italy smiled, and waved at him.

Germany chuckled, and went towards the Italian. "Here Italy, I made zhis just for-" Before he could finish his sentence, Germany tripped on a round ball of the ground which came out of nowhere, and lost balance.

"Scheiße!" Germany cursed loudly, falling down and the pasta flying in thin air. The German fell down, and grunte. "Ov..." He said, rubbing his bottom. "That hurt-" and the pasta came flying down to his face.

Italy eyes widened, and this time, surprisingly opened. He blinked, and looked how embarrassed the German was. A small smile came across his face. Then a small laugh. Italy was laughing.

Germany then became more embarrassed, whiched matched the color of the red sauce. "Germany, come here." Italy said, patting the side next to him. Germany got up from the floor, and went towards the Italian.

"I'm sorry, Italy..." Germany said, feeling guilty now and sitting down in the bed, "I vanted to do somezhing for you, but it became into a disaster..." Italy smiled, and laughed again softly.

North Italy then got some of the red sauce from Germany's lower lip with his finger, and licked it. This made Germany blush hard, and was about to protest, until Italy beat him to it. "The sauce is good!" Italy complimented him, "I can tell my fratello made it!"

Germany blinked, and a dust of pink came across his cheeks now. "Um... Ja..." Germany said, nodding. Italy smiled, and got a string of pasta out of Germany's slick hair.

"You made this, Germany?" Italy asked, examining the string. The German nodded, and blushed more. He was mess, and is embarrassing himself from his Axis friend. Some sauce dripped in Germany's military shirt, but he didn't care. Germany smiled lightly, and looked at the Italian.

At least he looks better than before... Germany thought, smiling to himself, then blushing furiosuly. I mean, at least Italy's fever wasn't bad as before... Ja... Zhat vhat I vas going to say... The German corrected himself, feeling more embarrassed than before.

"Ve~ Thank you Germany..." Italy said, smiling at him, "I only tried the sauce, but I could tell you put a lot of effort in this..." Germany looked up to the Italian, smiled back, and nodded. "But... I'm still hungry..." Italy whined, and his stomach growled louder than before.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Germany exclaimed, getting up, "I have to make you more!" Germany then began to ran towards the door.

"Germany, wait! The-" Before Italy could finish his sentence, fell down again from the same round ball, "ball is still there..." He said after, now seeing a red mark on Germany's forehead since he fell faceplant.

Italy chuckled lightly, and saw the German going towars the kitchen, and making his favorite dish, the pasta. Italy chuckled nervously, and looked down at his Italian colored sheets. "He's going to mess up again..." Italy said himself, laughing lightly.

The End

Extended Ending

"So you got cured from your fever?" Romano asked, taking a sip from his Starbucks coffee. The two Italy brothers were in the outskirts of Venice, visiting the beautiful place. It was cold though, and so the both wore their winter clothes.

"Si!" Italy said happily, smoke coming out of his mouth when saying it. "Germany made me pasta, and I ate it, and I got all better after just a few hours!" Romano chuckled, and looked at the street in front of him.

"See? What did I tell you?" Romano asked, smirking at his younger brother, "The best way to cure an Italian with a fever is when you give them pasta..." Italy nodded, and looked into the sky.

"I wonder what Germany is doing..." Italy asked, placing his hands behind his back.

"Who knows? Maybe he's sick..." Romano said, sipping his coffee again. Italy turned his head to his older brother.

"I don't think so..." Italy said with a smile, "Germany is too strong to have a fever..."

Somewhere in Germany...

"ACHOO!"

"Jeez West, that is so unawesome." Prussia said, smirking at his younger brother, "Don't get me sick eizher." Germany glared at his brother, and sneezed again.

"Ugh, hov did I ever get a fever?" Germany asked, laying down in his bed. "I feel so light headed..." Prussia shrugged his shoulders, and took care of his litle brother.

And this is how you get a sick German, and curing an Italian with a fever.

And here's the ending! Thank for reading this short story, and please review! And yes, if I misspelled anything in the last chapters or anything sounds wrong, please tell me and I will change it.

Thank you for reading this, if you want to know what Spain and Romano were up to, review and I might make it! See you soon!

~MoonlightStar400