I totally meant to make this longer, but life just isn't cooperating with me. Isn't that everybody's excuse? Anyway, I wanted to get this up before NaNoWriMo. I'm attempting it this year (writing fanfiction, but still!) Which, I'm so sorry, means no update for at least a month. Assuming I don't get bored with trying to write a novel. But if I do finish that novel, I'll post it. It'll be good. I hope. Now, on to the next chapter.

Tomatoes

The kidnapper watched the nations in the hallway disperse, each with a worried expression on their face. There was no way they would ever figure out it was him. Their discussions hadn't been anywhere close to him. Granted, all they discussed was Russia and England, but still. It would take a while to get from them to him. Just as well. He was on a roll, and who wants to have a winning streak ended? Especially since he hadn't even begun his reign of terror yet.

And everything as going so well, too! The plan was perfect. His partner had been skeptical it would work, and yet here they were, with 3 nations already in their hands.

But he couldn't get ahead of himself. Don't count your chickens before they hatch and all that. Or, in this case, dead nations before they got captured. The only question now was… Who next? Who would mess up next?

"Let go of me, damnit!" yelled Romano, his face red. "I fucking told you, I don't need to be babysat, Antonio!"

"But Lovi, I want to protect you," Spain pouted, clutching the raging Italian's hand. "Uff!" Romano had solidly head-butted him, effectively breaking his grip.

"I don't fucking need your damn protection anymore," hissed Romano, hazel eyes blazing. "Why can't you understand that sometimes, I need some personal space? That sometimes I have things to do that I need to do alone?" He stormed off, and all Spain could do was stand there, staring. He knew that Romano was having a difficult time right now. The mafia was acting up, and now this kidnap thing.

Spain sighed. He would find Romano later, when the Italian had calmed down. They would talk, and everything would be alright. Right? Right. And Romano could take care of himself, now. Spain always had to remind himself that his lover and little Ita were their own country now. He had nothing to worry about. Maybe Romano was right. Maybe he was being overprotective.

The Spaniard wandered around the UN building's halls for a little while, and he wished that France and Prussia were here. Then they could go for a drink or two, like they used to. They hadn't been doing that lately, though. Spain's brow furrowed as he wondered why. Maybe it was because both he and Prussia were in relationships. Although, for the life of him, he couldn't remember who was with Prussia. Was it that nation, Can-something, from earlier? That seemed right. Probably.

Spain wandered down to the cafeteria. Romano had to be hungry by now, right? He was probably there, munching on tomatoes (or complaining about the lack of them) there. He wondered vaguely what there was for lunch today. There was typically food from nearly all the countries, but this meeting hadn't been exactly normal.

While most of the remaining nations were in the cafeteria, Romano was not among them. Spain sighed, and got himself some paella before sitting down next to Italy and Germany.

"Ve~ Ciao, big brother Spain!" Italy chirped, a mound of pasta before him.

"Spain," acknowledged Germany, absent-mindedly wiping tomato sauce off of the redhead.

"Hola, Ita, Germany," Spain answered, picking at his food. "Have either of you seen Lovi?"

Italy shook his head. "I thought fratello was with you."

Spain sighed. "No. if you see him, let him know I'm looking for him, alright?"

"Okay!" said Italy, digging back into his plate of pasta. Spain toyed with his food, not really hungry, before getting up to wander the halls again. Maybe he should check in their hotel room… Romano had to be somewhere around here… He wouldn't have gone home… Would he?

The nations congregated outside the conference room, ready to go in and debate who could have possibly kidnapped the others. Spain looked anxiously around him but there was still no Romano in sight. Was he that angry with me?

The doors opened, and they filled in. On the table, smack dab in the middle, there was a bright green bowl filled with tomatoes and flowers. Scrawled on the table in tomato sauce was the message:

Red Balsam, Goats Rue & Achillea Millefolia

War has been declared, and the fight begun.

Too bad your reinforcements have run away, but they have had reason to.

Like Romano, you will scream "Touch me not" but you will not be headed.

Good luck. You will need it.

Spain stared at the message in shock. His Romano. Kidnapped. He could vaguely hear Italy screaming in the background, and Germany's rough voice reassuring him, but all he could do was stare at that horrible message.

"I will find you, mi amor," Spain whispered, a vow to both himself and his missing lover.

What the Flowers Mean

Red Balsam = touch me not

Goats Rue = reason

Achillea Millefolia = war