Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

WARNING: Did not proofread, may go back and do it later, but have fun for now! :P

Chapter 9: Return of the King

Nikolaus stared at the woman standing in front of his with an expression as calm as anything, but on the inside his eyes were wide and he was screaming at himself. His mouth had gone dry. His pulse had shot through the roof, and he could feel blood rushing south like floodgates had been opened somewhere in his body. Why his body was reacting as it was, he had no clue.

'Play it cool, Klaus. Play it cool,' he thought sternly to himself, 'You don't know this girl, and she doesn't know you, but chances are, if you hang around long enough, you'll see her again. You don't want to have her laughing every time she sees you after this.'

"If I may ask, what is your name?" he asked, and then wanted to punch himself in the face. 'You're doing a great job of making her not think you're an idiot.' He inwardly rolled his eyes, than focused on the female that had begun to circle him, looking him up and down.

She trailed a hand tipped with panther black nails across his shoulders sending jittery shivers jumping along his skin. Slowly, she leaned in and murmured against his ear, "This is the Anonymous Room where people come to confide secrets and be completely ignorant of their servicer's identity. You know me, but you'll only know if you figure out my identity for your own." Her voice was silky and sultry, speaking of years beyond what appeared to be her age.

"I see how this is going to work," Klaus replied, following her progress around him with sure scarlet eyes.

The woman laughed quietly, and a thrilling spark rushed through him. "I'm sure you do," she whispered, trailing dark purple lips across his jaw, needing to stand on her tiptoes to reach his face.

Something in the woman's voice sounded familiar, catching his ear. "If I'm going to figure out who you are, I'll need a hit."

Again, she laughed. "So bold," she chuckled, grinning, "Alright then. I will say it once. I'm and new, yet equally old, in your life. You have known me for many years, but in another form. That form has come and gone from your life, but has recently been consistent every day."

"I feel as if you just gave me a riddle."

The woman smiled. "Exactly. Maybe you are not as dumb as I first mistook you for."

"Maybe not, if I can't figure this out." He trailed off, his mind working feverishly with the clue she'd given him. She patiently awaited his answer, distractingly running her hand along the muscles of his back and over the plains of his stomach. He didn't know how much longer he'd actually be able to concentrate on the riddle if she continued her ministrations.

On her fifth pass around him, he caught her purple gaze. Finally, everything clicked into place. As if having heard the sound of his discovering the answer, the woman moved to stand in front of him. Exhilaration brightened her luminescent lavender eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Nina," he said, naming her with such a conviction that he could not be disputed.

A smile burst across her face. "Right," she confirmed. They stood there staring at each other for a long moment before they burst into action. They were on each other in milliseconds, pulling at each other's clothing, their lips crushed against each other.

"Daemon is going to be so jealous," Klaus whispered as he pulled away long enough to breath.

"Let him be," Nina laughed, pulling him back to her lips and then to the bed.

"You're cruel," Klaus told her, following willingly.

"I know."

…..

"So, how was it?" Klaus nearly flew through the roof as he exited the bathroom in Nina and Daemon's room, and Daemon's voice emerged from his left. "It must have been satisfactory if you had to come back up here to shower afterward."

Turning slowly, heart thrumming in his chest, Klaus looked over Daemon. He looked tired in his black slacks and black vest over a white button up. His snowy blond hair had been swept back against his head, a few strands hanging in his face. "You could say that," Klaus agreed, moving to lean against the vanity, "Aren't you supposed to be serving already tipsy guests more alcohol?" Even on the second floor, he could hear the music booming through the speakers.

"I'm on my break," Daemon answered wearily, falling onto the double bed that was pushed up against one wall. He pressed his face into the pillows as if he were getting ready to smother himself. "I want to die," he groaned into the pillow.

"Why?" Nikolaus asked, dropping down heavily beside his best friend making his bounce.

"I've been groped so many times tonight that it should be illegal. But I guess I'd be lying if I said that that is what's bother me," Daemon mumbled, his voice muffled by the material cause Klaus to have to lean in to hear him.

"Then what is bothering you?"

Sighing loudly, Daemon flipped over so he was staring at the ceiling. "My mother and my aunt have been prostitutes their entire lives. That's all they've ever known, and my father is not too far behind time. Sure, I think that's fine and all, but I don't want Nina and me to end up like that. I don't want to sell myself my whole life to make a living. I don't want to fear the shadows that will become my past like my mother and aunt do now. I don't know, maybe my fears are irrational, but I feel as if that's the path we're headed down."

Klaus was silent for a long moment, staring down at his friend. Finally, he flopped down across him, pushing all of the air from the other's lungs. "We should just run away, then."

"What? What are you talking about? You can't be serious," Daemon wheezed, laughing breathily.

"I am completely serious. Let's all run away. You, me, and Nina. We'll finish school, go to college, get careers, and come back one day. Our parents will be proud of us, and we'll have rubbed all the noses of the people who never believed in us in our success," Klaus replied, face and voice serious, but he couldn't help the laughter that broke free. They laughed together, long and until they were crying.

"Listen to us, making plans. First, I have to finish my shift though," Daemon said, finally having regained normal breathing. He wiped at the tears that had trailed down his face with the edge of a blanket.

"Alright, I guess I'll join you then," Klaus said, pushing himself back up and pulling Daemon along with him. "Let's get down there before something devastating happens."

"Oh, I'm sure Natalya will keep anything from happening. She's in such a bad mood at the moment that I pity the person her crosses her."

"Ain't that the truth," Klaus agreed.

…..

Amelia and Marguerite, in black jeans and black t-shirts, wandered down into the performance area, drawn by the hypnotic music and the lure of human interaction. It was lonely being stuck in a room by themselves for several hours. They probably shouldn't have chanced running into their mother, but they needed to talk to members the living.

Skirting around their ever vigilant Mistress, they popped in behind the bar, taking seats on the bar stools that were behind the counter for the bartenders. They watched as the dancers, one of them Ivan, moved across the stage, completely in sync with one another.

"I want to be dancing," Amelia sighed longingly, resting an elbow on the bar and dropping her chin into it. She watched the dancers enviously, feeling the twitch in her limbs, the need to move and arouse men and women alike.

"Yeah," Maggie agreed, mimicking her twin's position unconsciously, "but I don't want Mother to have a chance at us."

Amelia scowled angrily, having recovered from her earlier fear. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Daemon and Nikolaus enter the room. They were grinning and laughing at each other. She couldn't help but smile at their happiness. "Yeah, but I still want to dance," she finally answered, sinking further down on the bar.

"Why don't you go ask Mistress Natalya if you can? I'm sure she'd let you two do an older performance if that's what you really want," Isabelle advised helpfully, coming up behind them as she moved to grab a bottle of Bailey's Irish Crème. In her other hand she held a bottle of chocolate milk.

Amelia and Maggie turned to look at her, frowning at the contents of her hands. "I never understood why some people mix like to mix those two things together," Maggie said, watching Isabelle pour them into a glass together.

"This actually tastes really good with hot chocolate," the woman told them, sliding the class down the bar to a waiting costumer. He tipped her brimmed hat to her, keeping his eyes obscured from view. Isabelle smiled over at him before leaning back against the bar herself.

Claire bounced behind the bar, her long blonde hair pinned atop her head in a loose bun. "What are we talking about here, hm?" she asked, smiling brightly and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Choices of drink mixes and whether these two should go ask Mistress Natalya if they should go dance. I told them they should. I think it would send a spark of life through the crowd. I love the darlings on stage, I really do, but they're never a match for these two," Isabelle explained, smiling softly at the other two women who stared at her with widened eyes.

Claire stroked the side of her face thoughtfully, watching the display occurring on stage. "I'm going to have to agree with you on this one, Izzy. These two can really liven up a room, and get everybody hot and bothered." She turned back to the pair with a devilish grin. "Come one you two. Grab a partner, get up there, and show them how it's done. You know you want to," she coaxed.

The pair stared at her hair, trying to resist the urge to take up her offer, but after a long staring contest, they gave up. "Okay, fine, you win. Come on, Maggie. Let's go talk to Natalya," Amelia said, jumping to her feet with little hesitation, but more of a store of excitement. Adrenaline was beginning to pump through her veins. She could already see the astounded faces in the crowd, feel the heat of the spot lights warming her skin.

"Okay," Marguerite agreed just as quickly, getting to her feet. They hurried away into the crowd, headed towards Natalya's table. They slid into seats across from her, grinning apologetically when she shot them an angry glare.

"What do you want? You two are supposed to be hidden away up in your room for that devil woman. Why are you down here?" she snapped, returning her eyes to the performance. Her scowl deepened as she continued to observe the dancers.

"Well, we were wondering if we could do a dance. One of the old numbers," Maggie replied, cutting off Amelia's sarcastic retort before it even had a chance to formulate entirely.

Natalya ran a hand through her hair, considering. "Fine. Who are going to be your partners? Or are you doing a duo?"

The two females glanced at each other, then around at the room. Not even ten feet away were Alfred and Matthew. The girls met each other's eyes again, and nodded. "We're going to dance with Al and Mattie," they said together.

"Then go get ready. You're going up in three minutes," Natalya ordered, returning her eyes to the stage.

"Thank you!"

…..

Their performance went off without a hitch, and just like Isabelle and Claire had said, they had half of the patrons crossing and uncrossing their legs uncomfortably. The four tumbled from the stage, grinning and laughing, hanging off of each other. They returned to the bar, sliding into seats on the patron side of the bar this time.

"That was awesome!" Alfred and Amelia shouted together, giving each other a double high-five. Maggie and Mattie grinned, nodding enthusiastically.

"That was a very good performance, young misses," the man with the brimmed hat commented on the other side of the bar, his accent the thick southern accent of the American south. He glanced at them, smiling a smile so familiar that none of them could place exactly where they had heard it before. His eyes were bright, sky blue that smiled along with his lips. His face was line, but still young, and his hair was a dirty blonde.

"Thank you, sir. We're glad you liked it," Marguerite said graciously, smiling cautiously. Something about the young-old man seemed utterly familiar, but she couldn't place him, and that unsettled her.

"It is nice to see that you two are having fun, even working here. Girlies, you two have grown into fine young women," he told them.

Maggie and Amelia gasped at the nickname, the utterly familiar nickname they hadn't heard since they were six years old. Tears blurred their vision and escaped down their faces. "Daddy!" Amelia cried, throwing herself at the man and wrapping her arms around his waist. Maggie was right behind her, clutching at his shoulders over her twin.

"I'm back. It's alright, I'm back," he murmured soothingly, stroking their hair lovingly.

Well, there you go. Now we've met Maggie and Amelia's MIA father. The story we'll be winding up in the next three or four chapters. Hope it was a worthwhile read. See you next time!