Chapter 4-The Perverts and the Beach
"LA PLAGE~!" France yelled, hoping off the bus and running up to the water. All of the students chatted excitedly as they walked onto the sand. The beach itself way only a few miles long, but there was grass area where their tents would be, leading into a forest that ended in a Japanese style hot spring.
Stepping out of the bus, Melinda eyed the water nervously. Her bathing suit was white with a red maple leaf on the side. She, amazingly, was wearing a bikini, though if it was to impress England, it didn't have much effect, since she held Jack up defensively whenever someone looked at her. "I've never been to the beach before," she whispered.
Ella, who wore a tankini in her nation's colors, laughed. "My friend, how could you not have been to the beach before?"
"In Canada, the waters are too cold to swim in," she replied.
Rome, wearing boy trunks and a swim shirt looked at her. "Where's that?"
"Mes chers~!" An all too familiar face sang from behind them. Hesitantly, they turned to see France running up to them, ready to give them a bear hug, in a way too tight Speedo. Ottawa and Rome (having met their older brother's companion many times before) yelled and quickly ducked out of the way, leaving poor Ella to be the Frenchman's victim. Francis captured his victim with a sequel. "Aren't you little Mexico's younger sister?" he cooed, trying to get his hand over her breast.
"FRANCE!" A hand smacked the man hard behind the head. This hand belonged to no other than Germany. "Would you respect women for once?" He demanded, looking ready to kill him.
France released Ella and smiled at Germany. "Ludwig dear, if you're jealous all you had to do wa-" He collapsed to the ground. All eyes traveled to Ella, who looked very pissed as she held the pipe Russia had given her.
"I'll murder him," she growled. Melinda and Rome looked at each other and took a step back. They hadn't seen her like this since Rome decided to replace her Mexican chocolate with laxatives.
Feli came running up to the barely conscious Frenchman. "Waaa~! Big brother," he cried, kneeling down towards him. "Are you alright?"
Francis smiled. "Yes, now that your here. Why don't we go to a quiet place to get some sleep?"
The Italian seemed more than happy to oblige. "Vee~! A siesta would be great~!"
"YOU DAMN POTATO BASTARD!" Romano yelled, running up to Germany. "Why are you letting that French bastard flirt with Feliciano?"
Before Germany could answer, Spain came and placed an arm around the Italian's, "Now, now. Why don't we just leave him alone?"
"What? Are you fucking mad?"
"No. I just believe that you and I need to spend some quiet time together."
"No way in hell Tomato Bastard!"
"HEY!" All eyes traveled to the school president, standing tall and proud in his swim trunks. "Since we are at a public place, I will not tolerate any misbehavior! Anymore ruckus and I will have you all serve a week of detention! Are we clear?"
Everyone stared at England. It hadn't occurred to them that he was still going to be all stuck up with his rules like usual. A small voice could be heard. "I-I'm sorry," Melinda said, bowing her head.
For once, the Brit recognized her. "Just don't do it again Miss Ottawa." She nodded and the group slowly dispersed.
The girl placed her hands on her face, realizing that she was blushing. "He remembered my name!" she whispered.
Her companions sighed. She was going to be stuck like that all day if they didn't stop her. They each took a limb and carried her to the water. The water was a bone chilling cold. With no mercy, they dropped her in.
"EEEEEEEKKKKKKK!" Melinda squealed, running back to the shore. "I'm not going in there!" she cried.
"Aw come on!" Rome yelled. "You're from Canada, so you should be used to the cold!"
"I'm not going in!"
The girls sighed. "Suit yourself!" They called before swimming further into the water.
The Hot Boys
Germany walked up to Russia; the Asian country was sitting on his towel, looking out at the ocean with his scarf folded beside him. "Russia?"
Russia looked up at him and smiled. "Hello Germany. Do you need something?"
"I just wanted to ask you a question." the blond nation said, sitting down on the sand. He wouldn't dare sit on the same towel with Russia, let alone be that close to him either. "That pipe that Ella hit France with. Wasn't it yours?"
Russia looked at Germany with a blank stare for a moment before looking away. Was that a sunburn or a blush on his cheeks? "Da."
"What is Ella doing with it?"
Russia took a while to respond, and when he did, he chose his words carefully, like there was something he didn't want to slip out: "Well, she was fighting."
"What does that have to do with the pipe?"
"I was watching her and after the fight, I complemented her on her fighting. She's very good, da?"
"So you gave her your pipe?"
"She needed it. I told her that it would help her to defend her friend against Barcelona." Russia pointed out to the ocean, where indeed Barce was trying to get close to Rome, with no avail: Ella was waving the pipe about furiously so the only thing Barce could concentrate on was not getting hit. If he got hit, he was going down.
Germany instead focused on Rome, who was watching her friend protect her with that Italian stare. No doubt she was "Ve~"ing as well. The capital was almost exactly like Feli: she was friendly, not very bright, and she could run like hell was after her. Germany even considered thinking that she might have been able to out run Feli, or maybe that was just because someone was actually stalking her and not just walking by.
Russia seemed to notice that his blond friend was staring at Rome, and not the actual fight, and smiled. "You like her, da?"
"What?" Germany blushed profusely and looked back to Russia.
"She's a cute capital, almost just like your Feli."
"Uh, he's not mine . . ." Germany stuttered. He saw the smile on Russia's face as he watched the fight and shot back, "You like Ella, don't you?"
Russia didn't respond but rather looked at him with a surprised expression. How could Germany tell that he liked the Spanish-speaking capital?
Germany caught the words after it was too late, but unexpectedly, Russia didn't strike out at him. He just gave him a blank stare. And was he stuttering?
"You do?" Germany asked, surprised.
Russia hurriedly looked away and picked up his scarf. There was no way he was blushing. Absolutely, positively, no possible damn way. Germany wasn't all too surprised when Russia didn't respond to his question.
"What're you chaps talking about?"
England sat down next to Germany-no way he was sitting next to Russia-and looked at them. Germany blushed and stared back out at the ocean. "Oh, um. . ." the German stuttered.
England followed his gaze and smiled. "Rome is a bit too rowdy for my taste." he said absentmindedly. "And Ella just plain scares the crap out of me."
He gained harsh death glares from Germany and Russia. England had to get out of there before they strangled him. "Oh, look, there's . . ." England hurriedly searched the beach for someone he could accuse of doing something wrong, and he spotted Prussia with that girl-what was her name? Who cares, it was his way out! "It's Prussia! I can file him for sexual harassment! I'll talk to you later chaps!" And he ran off.
Melinda
Melinda looked at her friends from the shore. They seemed to be having fun. "Justin, should I go out to them?" she asked
The beaver looked at her. "Who are you?"
"I'm Ottawa, your owner."
"Where's that?"
She sighed and placed the beaver on the ground. "Stay here," she ordered, before starting to wade her way to the other two capitals. It actually wasn't so bad in there. She quickly started to get use to the water as she discovered that it felt good to be hit by the waves. Melinda giggled and prepared herself for a big wave heading right towards her. It knocked her off her feet and dragged her under.
It took a few seconds for her to resurface. She gasped for air. She suddenly didn't like the water so much. "Excuse me, but is this thing yours?" Ottawa turned to see a vaguely familiar man with white hair holding a white bikini top...her bikini top.
Turning a deep shade of scarlet, Ottawa ducked herself deep into the water. "Yes," she finally managed to squeak. "How did you find it?"
The man handed it to her. "Saw it floating around and decided to give it to you, 'cause I'm awesome like that."
Ottawa quickly pulled the top back on, but cussed when she realized that it had a tie on back. "Here, let me help you with that." The albino quickly took the strings and started to tie them. "I'm the awesome Prussia by the way."
"Thank you Prussia," she said. "My name i-" She didn't get a chance to finish. Prussia, Gilbert as many of you may remember, had suddenly pulled her closed and had his hands over her chest. She started to scream, calling for help and telling him to let go.
"Why?" he asked simply. "If you don't want to be in my awesome debt, then I suggest you just sit still for a few minutes."
"PRUSSIA!" An all too familiar voice yelled. "What did I say about sexual harassment?"
Gilbert looked at England and just smirked. "What are you talking about? She was just letting me receive my thanks."
England looked at Ottawa. "Is that true Miss?" Melinda shook her head violently. She had lost all will to speak. England nodded, seemingly pleased. "Prussia, go to shore and report to Mr. Germania. Now."
The German scowled, but none the less, released the capital. England watched as he swam to shore and suddenly remembered the Canadian's name. "Now, Miss Ottawa. You should get back to your friends."Eyebrows asked finally.
Melinda just stared. England sighed as he asked, "Where are those capitals you are always hanging around with?" Melinda was too shock for words. All she could do was point a finger in their direction.
"Did he scare you?" he asked concerned. She nodded. He smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Gilbert is someone most stay away from. He doesn't have a country of his own anymore, so he always hangs around France and Spain. Together, the three make a group of perverts. You need to stay away from them." She stared at him, plastered to the ground. "If you want, I'll go grab your older brother." he suggested.
Ottawa shook her head, but still she didn't move from her spot. England sighed and turned around, holding out his hands for her. "I'll carry you to your friends if you want," he said, defeated.
Melinda blushed. "OHNOYOUDON'THAVETODOTHAT! ICANSWIMJUSTFINE! SEEWATCHMESWIM!" she exploded before swimming as fast as she could to Ella and Natale. It wasn't until Melinda was safely clutching Ella's arm did she realized that she had missed out on a golden opportunity.
Ella and Natale
After playing around in the ocean some more, the capitals headed back to shore, as it was almost time for the barbecue.
Natale, Melinda, and Ella were talking as they stepped out of the water, intending to go to their respective spot on the beach when someone came up from behind and threw Natale over his shoulder. At first she assumed it was Barce, but then she noticed he was taller and his companions were Prussia and France. "What now?" Spain asked.
"Spain, you have a girl with a lovely, almost French ass at your disposal and you're asking what to do with her?" France asked.
"Aw, HELL NO!" Ella shouted before hoisting her pipe over her shoulder. She hit Spain in the back till he dropped Natale, but still didn't relent on hitting him. Spain escaped eventually and went to shore, the girls slightly behind them.
"I certainly am jealous of the ocean," Prussia began in that annoying tone of his, loud enough for everyone to hear. "It would had been awesome to de-top those skinny capitals, even the tiny ass Canadian one~"
Russia, England and Germany were on the sand together, collectively packing their stuff up when they heard that comment. The three of them felt an anger they couldn't place; they couldn't even describe it, but they knew they had to get revenge.
Germany, usually not thinking his thoughts all the way through, lunged first, as the Bad Touch Trio was just a few feet from them. He wrapped his fingers around Spain's throat without thinking of what he was doing. The other two joined in, as Prussia and France started to attack Germany. Russia started to beat France around with his massive fists as England was having a hard time landing a good blow on the bigger boy Prussia.
By this time, the teachers had seen the crowd that had gathered around the brawling countries and declared an end to it. They grabbed the Bad Touch Trio, assuming they had started the fight, and dragged them away, leaving England, Russia, and Germany on the sand.