Disc: I don't own Hetalia or it's characters, and those who do would probably cry to see what I've done with them.

For sakerat, who seems to be enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it.

It's short, I know, but this is still my favourite chapter.

"It's not a date!" Romano corrected his brother, frustrated.

Feliciano, sitting on his brother's bed, just smiled amicably. "Ve~, I think it's great that you're making new friends." he chirped, watching his brother search through his wardrobe for an outfit for Saturday. "The maroon shirt really brings out your eyes~, Romano."

"Cheh! I can dress myself, idiot." Romano growled, rifling through his shirts. "And I don't need my eyes brought anywhere. This is not a date." He pulled out two maroon shirts. "The one with the double collar or the cutaway?"

"Ah~ the double collar is best, it accentuates the dip in your collarbone." Romano did have very nice collarbones. "And the curve of your neck."

" 'Kay." Romano put the insuffiently-complimentary maroon shirt back. "I'm just trying to teach the stupid American that hamburgers are not food. It's a mission of mercy. Charcoal tie or olive?"

"Ve~" Feliciano considered. "Olive, but not the solid one." he got up and went to dig through his brother's tie rack. "He really eats them all the time? I thought he just did that to make England mad." He found what he was after fairly quickly. "Here! This one with the light gold pattern in it, it'll make the gold flecks in your eyes pop."

"I don't need my damn eyes to pop." Romano grumbled, snatching the tie from his brother and examining it against the shirt. "And brow-bastard's the one who fucked up his tastebuds to begin with." He nodded, satisfied. "Nice. I have a tie clip and some cufflinks that'll go great with this." He hung the shirt and tie on a hook inside the closet door. "Shoes, shoes..."

"Me and Ludwig should come too! I haven't been out with you in forever, it'll be so much fun!"

Romano, on his knees in his closet going through his shoe rack, automatically opened his mouth to refuse, but paused as a thought occurred to him. If it was just him alone with America, he'd eventually get so annoyed with the idiot's inability to behave in a civilized manner for 5 minutes straight that he'd probably end up smashing his stupid, smiling face into the dessert cart. Feliciano, who got along with pretty much everyone, might make a decent buffer for the American's stupidity. And Germany, as much as he hated to admit it, would be useful to have around (for once), since he had ample experience in keeping hyper airheads under control. (Also, two guys eating alone together in a restaraunt was something you did on dates, and this was totally not a date). "Yeah, sure." he grudgingly agreed. "You and the po- Germany can come along. But Germany's paying for your half."

"Ve~ Of course!" Feliciano clapped his hands joyfully. "This will be wonderful! Oh, and I got some shoes on my last shopping trip with Feliks that might work, let me get them!" he called, running out the door. "I can't wait to tell Germany we're going on a double date!"

"IT'S NOT A DATE!"

AN: Feliciano has an artist's eye, which comes in handy sometimes. He does say 've' an awful lot though. Maybe it's a nervous tic?