Ok, so I really am sorry for so long an update! I have my AP exam coming up in about five days, and my English teacher has been hammering us down with work. (Of course, if you don't want to hear excuses, it doesn't matter.)
Alfred, being a hero and all, knew he needed a plan. Poland by himself was harmless, but with Hungary by his side, he was untouchable. And by the mother of all that was sweet as apple pie, he needed to get those pictures!
So, he had enlisted the help of Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert. Well, technically all he had to do was talk to Francis, but Gilbert wanted in and Antonio followed suit. They were sitting in a bush, not too far from Poland's house, planning out their strategy.
"Okay, America, what's the plan?"
"We build a robot, send back to the past, stop Poland long enough for us to get the pictures, and we run off into the sunset with pancakes and apple butter!" America looked happy with his plan, but Gilbert smacked him across the head.
"Even Gilbird knows that's a stupid idea! Francis, what plan do you have?"
"Well, a distraction would be good. Something that could keep Hungary occupied long enough to sneak in…"
Ring! Ring! Antonio's cell phone went off. Everyone looked at Antonio, who had answered his phone.
"¡Romano! ¿Cómo estás, mi lindo tomate?"
"Don't give me that shit, Antonio! Where are you?"
"I'm with Francis right now. Did you want something?"
"You said you'd take me to Germany's house, remember? Who knows what that potato bastard could be doing to my brother! You need to come back now!"
"But I'm sort of busy… how about later?"
"…Fine. But if you forget…" The sound of a knife scraping against a tile could be heard, and Alfred was glad he never had to deal with Romano. Antonio hung up, and looked at everyone cheerfully.
"So, what's the plan guys?"
It was decided that Gilbert would be the distraction. Francis would be lookout, Antonio would take care of Feliks, and Alfred would grab the pictures. So Gilbert went off, jumping in through a window and shouting loudly.
Antonio waited a bit, then proceeded to the front door. He knocked three times, and when Feliks answered, he began to talk to Feliks about… well what he knew best, which seemed to be Romano and tomatoes.
"Hey Feliks! How are ya?"
"Fine, like, why are you here?"
"Oh just stopping by to see if you'd like to talk to me. See, I need your opinion on something. Would tomatoes go well with Polish dishes? You see, I want to make Romano a nice Polish dinner tonight, but he only eats pasta, which has tomatoes, so I was planning on adding some tomatoes, you know, to add some flavor to the food…"
Poland looked at him strangely, not sure whether to answer or close the door. He heard Hungary shouting at something, and then something pushed him out of the doorway and into Antonio's arms as Gilbert ran out, Elizabeta at his heels.
"I'm so awesome, and Hungary is not! She wears white panties, even though it's not sexy!" Gilbert sang, running towards the nearest exit.
"Oooh, that looks like fun! Let's go Feliks! Maybe Hungary caught him already!" Antonio steadied the Polish man on his feet, then grabbed his shirt sleeve and ran towards the direction Hungary went.
"W-wait! Like seriously, hold up!"
As soon as they were gone, Alfred walked inside. It all looked normal, until you saw that every picture was a shot of Feliks, and maybe two or three of Toris. He looked around, seeing more and more pictures, but none of them were of Matthew. Finally, he found in one of the rooms Feliks' camera, with the pictures still in the memory card. He pulled the card out and ran out.
Francis was waiting for him. "Did you get the pictures?"
"Of course!"
"Well then, now they're mine!" Francis grabbed the memory card in Alfred's hands and began to run away.
"Hey! Urgh, you jerk!"
"All's fair in love and war!" Francis yelled out, putting quite a distance from Alfred.
"Now what do I do?"
Francis knew from the start that pictures of his little Matthew in a dress were priceless. So, when unsuspecting America came to him, asking him for help, he felt in his best interests to take such pictures. After all, papa know best when it comes to his children.
He had stopped by a print shop to develop the pictures. When the cashier handed him the envelope of pictures, Francis looked at the first one. A timid Canadian looked at him, holding his arms on the sides of his legs, his dress fluttering around him.
"Ah, my cute little angel…" Francis crooned, not paying attention when he bumped into a trembling body. His pictures fell, along with the other person's pictures.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Francis bent down and began to pick them up.
"Oh, it's nothing. Here, let me help." The person, who was a small boy with blond hair and violet eyes, began to sift hrough the pictures quickly, wanting to get home as soon as possible.
Once they both had their pictures in their envelopes, they exchanged names and went their separate ways. The boy, named Raivis, walked towards a black car, opened the back door, and sat down. The person in the driver's seat, which not so coincidentally, was Ivan, and he turned and looked at Raivis.
"Raivis! Did you get my pictures developed?"
"Y-Yes, M-Mr. I-Ivan.."
"You did good didn't show my pictures to anyone, da?"
"N-no!"
"Good. Now we go home!" The car sped off, almost hitting an old lady and her dog.
Safely at home, Francis poured himself some wine and sat down on his couch, ready to look at his newest treasure. He pulled the pictures out of the envelope, but instead of being greeted with a petite Canadian in a dress, it was Ivan dancing the polka at what seemed to be a wedding. He sifted through the pictures, feeling queasy when he saw Ivan in his boxers, holding a Russian flag.
"…What are these?"
If he had pictures of Russia, then that meant… Russia had pictures of Matthew… which meant America would kill him. If England found out, then his manhood was on the line. If Matthew found out… he shuddered, picturing the Canadian holding up a metal bat over his head. Either way, Francis was screwed.
Yeah, I didn't want to make Francis a bad guy, but things didn't turn out that way. Poor Raivis, I always want to hug him…
Comments are appreciated!
