As Switzerland walked into the kitchen he could hear the mixture of voices that made up Italy's strange family. Rome was lounging at Switzerland's usual spot, the head of the table and was already sipping his third glass of wine. Romano was scowling on one side of the table; Italy babbled nonsense across from him. They all looked up when Switzerland and Liechtenstein entered, although the conversation didn't cease. "Who is this handsome young thing?" Rome asked, causing Switzerland to glare furiously. Before he could respond Liechtenstein said "Oh, Mr. Rome, this is my brother Switzerland."

"Oh ho, call me grandpa Rome, we're family now" Rome laughed, winking. "And Switzy, take a seat! I was just telling a story about the beautiful girls of Greece!"

"Dammit, you old creep, just shut up already!" Romano grumbled before Switzerland could respond to his new, unwanted nickname. As much as he didn't want to, he sat down beside Romano.

The table was heaped with food. It was evident that Italy had dictated most of the cooking because pasta dominated the meal. "Isn't my grandson's cooking divine?" Rome asked.

"Tastes like ass." Romano grumbled but his remark was ignored as Italy chatted with his much loved grandfather. Besides, the food was amazing. As much as Switzerland hated to admit it Italy could cook.

"Oh, grandpa, Liechtenstein helped!" Italy interjected. "She made this pasta right here and smooshed the tomatoes because that's icky and it gets tomato juice on my shirt." Liechtenstein looked at the table, trying (and failing) to hide the flush of red that was spreading across her face. "Oh, a chef too!" Rome laughed. "If you weren't married then I would-" Switzerland cut him off by hissing "Keep away from my sister you pervert. I've got a closet full of machine guns" Rome seemed unfazed and leaped into an explicit story of his younger days.

"Big brother," Liechtenstein said gently, "Do you like the food?" Switzerland nodded but didn't say anything because his cheeks bulged with pasta. Even Romano had quit grumbling to eat. "Oh, yay!" Italy began. "Mr. Switzerland, I'm so glad! I love to cook and I promise to make you whatever you like just please don't hurt me!" He was evidently still fazed by the earlier threat on his welfare. Italy entwined his had in Liechtenstein's and her face ounce again burned red. Italy smiled down at her and not even Switzerland could deny the adoration reflected in his eyes.

"Cut the mushy bullshit," Romano huffed, reminding everyone at the table of his presence and evident discomfort.

"Oh ho," Rome began "Clearly you're envious of your brother's romantic conquests. She is a lovely little-" Switzerland was almost relieved when the doorbell interrupted the man's comment. "I'll get it," he said, eyeing Rome- there was no saying what that creep would do "Liechtenstein you should come too."

"Oh, of course brother," she said, sliding out of her seat.

Germany stood stiffly on the doorstep as Japan not-so-inconspicuously took pictures of the garden, the camera's flash illuminating the yard. "Mr. Switzerland and Miss Liechtenstein, have you seen Italy? We have been looking all over for him" Just then from the dining room Italy hollered "PASTA!", revealing his presence. Of course, Liechtenstein being the sweet little girl she was, Germany and Japan were invited in. It was amazing, the things Switzerland did for his sister.