Author's note: Hey, peeps!

Been a while, hasn't it? That's cuz I was busy working on my Pokémon fics instead, but that's neither here nor there.

... I had to take a bit of a liberty with this chapter, since I've no idea where this particular event takes place, despite all the research I've been doing. I really hope I didn't get it wrong... If I did, feel free to correct me and I'll... find a way around it.

Either way, hope you enjoy the chapter!


Chapter Nine: Whole Nine Yards

1991

Finally, after forty-four years, the Cold War was over. America and Russia had decided to put aside their differences and end their glaring contest. End their bickering. End their rivalry. Maybe, now, they'd actually learn to cooperate.

... Germany doubted the two countries would actually become friends after this, but at least now there was no chance of them nuking one another.

For that, he was thankful. The world certainly didn't need that on its plate...


Sitting comfortably on the couch, Germany quietly read his book, Legends of the Greek Gods. On the floor nearby, a giggling Italy continued to drag his cat toy across the carpet.

Germany could hear the small thumps of Pookie as she continually pounced at the cat toy. Each time Italy managed to pull it out of the way, his giggles would get louder.

"... Damn it, zis is just too cute!" Prussia exclaimed, also on the carpet.

Germany looked up from his book, glasses sliding down his nose slightly. "It's just a cat," he replied.

"It's not just a cat, Germany!" Italy said looking up at him with a bright smile. "It's Pookie!"

"Ja. A cat." He pushed his glasses back up his nose.

Italy pouted. "Hmph. You'll never know the joys of having a pet." He paused. "You grouch..."

Germany lowered his eyelids at him. "Zat cat's not even yours."

Italy protectively grabbed Pookie in his arms. The cat didn't protest. "Well, no, but she might as well be!"

Germany sighed. After a moment, a thought occurred to him. "Just how long has zat zing been around, anyvay?"

"Oh, I dunno. Since around..." He gave it some thought. "Let's see... it-a was before the Pact of Steel, so about... 1939? Ish?"

Prussia's eyes widened. "Vhat?" he asked in intrigue. "Really?"

Italy smiled. "Si!"

"Hmm..." Germany said. "Shouldn't she have died by now?"

"Well, you'd think so!" Italy paused. "But nope!"

"Hmm. Zen again, she does hang around you a lot..."

"Hey, yeah!" Prussia agreed. "Maybe your life force, or vitality, or vhatever is rubbing off on her!"

Italy gave a light gasp. "Yeah, maybe!"

"Hmph," Germany said.

"Zat settles it," Prussia said. He jumped to his feet, planting one boot on the coffee table.

Germany frowned up at him. "Oi. Only coffee on ze coffee table."

"Ve're getting a dog!"

"... Excuse me?"

"A dog. Zey're awesome. Ve're getting von."

"You're getting a dog?!" Italy asked excitedly.

"Nein!" Germany replied. "Und get off ze coffee table!"

"I am awesome und so is mein boot!" Prussia replied. "Ve're getting a dog. End of story."

"Nein! You can barely feed yourself in a morning, never mind a dog!"

"Aww, but don't you vant a dog, bro?"

Germany hesitated.

Prussia's grin grew wider, showing off his teeth. "See? I knew you'd see it mein awesome vay! Ve're getting a dog."

Germany hesitated again. "... But vhat about...?"

Italy tilted his head. "Hmm?" he asked. "What's the matter?"

Germany sighed. "I vouldn't vant to get von if I'm only going to outlive it..."

Italy beamed. "Oh, is that-a what you're worrying about? Well, no worries! Japan's had his dog, Pochi, for a really, really long time! Centuries, even!" He looked down at the cat still in his arms. "And Pookie here's not even mine, but she's still kicking! Right, Pookie?"

"Meow!" the cat replied.

Italy looked back up at him. "So, si! I say get a dog!"

Germany stared at his best friend for a long moment. Eventually, he heaved another sigh. "I suppose you're right..." He glanced away. "I... guess it vould be nice having a dog..."

"Damn straight it vould!" Prussia replied.

"Yay!" Italy said. "Doggie!" He paused. "Though I think cats are better."

"Pfft! No vay! Dogs are more awesome!" Prussia pointed a finger dramatically. "An awesome pet for ze awesome Prussia!"

Germany sighed again.


The following day, the three of them had arrived at the shelter, Italy thankfully not bringing Pookie with him. That would have probably been disastrous.

The second the trio had stepped through the front door, Italy and Prussia had excitedly bolted off in their own separate directions, both squealing like little children. Wanting to view the dogs at his own leisure, Germany slowly walked along, carefully scanning each pen one at a time. A Bavarian mountain hound, a schnauzer, a great dane, a Doberman pinscher, a kromfohrlander... There was so much choice.

Suddenly, he heard loud barking. It was followed by a high-pitched scream of terror. Looking up, he saw Italy quickly scrambling away from one of the pens. Sighing, he walked over.

When he approached, Italy looked up at him, tears in his eyes. "This one's scaryyyy..." he said.

Germany turned to look at the dog in question, which was still barking, its paws up on the pen door. A rottweiler.

He threw it his most intense glare through the wire frame door. Almost immediately, it retreated with a whimper, flattening its body against the floor.

He relaxed his glare.

"Oh, grazie!" Italy said. "Maybe you could scare away Jehovah's Witnesses next!"

Germany let out a breath. "Nein. Only ze devil could scare zem avay."

"... So, we should invite Russia over then?" Italy bonked the side of his head on Germany's arm a few times. "... Actually, no, don't do that."

A tiny smirk worked its way onto Germany's mouth.


Finally. He'd found it.

Germany knew, the second he laid eyes on this German shepherd, that he wanted it. It was big and fluffy. Brown and cream. Strong and, honestly, quite adorable. Especially with the way it was nuzzling against the wire frame door. Yes. He wanted it.

He took a quick look at the dog's name and determined it was called Aster.

Hmm. Aster. That was a flower, wasn't it?

"Bro! Bro!" Prussia cried out, rushing over. "I have found ze most awesome dog for us to purchase!"

"Oh, danke," he replied, "but I've already-"

Prussia grabbed his arm and dragged him away from Aster. "Zis vay, bro! Oh, you'll love him! He's almost as awesome as me!"

"H-Hey!"

Relenting, he decided that he'd come back to Aster later. For now, he'd follow his brother's lead, if only to humour him.

Eventually, Prussia stopped walking and let go. "Vell, here he is, bro! Isn't he awesome?"

Germany looked down at the pen. Inside was a brown dachshund. It was looking up at him with the most pleading face. The cutest puppy dog eyes.

... Oh no.

"His name is Blackie! Not ze awesome name I vould have given him... especially since he's not even black... but his cute face could melt even your steely heart! So, let's get him und go, already!"

"Uh... vell..."

"Germany! Hey, Germany!" Italy cried, rushing over. "I found-a you the best dog! He's so fluffy and cute! Come on, you need to come and see him!"

"Ha!" Prussia replied. "He doesn't need to, because ve've already found ze perfect dog!"

"Oh, please! Just-a give him a quick look-see! You'll love him, I promise!"

Germany heaved a sigh. "Alright, fine..." he replied.

Italy beamed. "Oh, grande!" He ran off. "He's over this wayyyy!"

The two Germans followed him, until they came across the pen he was pointing at. Germany looked down. A hovawart. Golden in colour, with a very dopey expression on its face. It kind of reminded him of Italy, actually.

... Scheisse.

"Hmm..." Prussia said. He quickly looked at the dog's name. "Berlitz, huh?" He paused a long moment. "... I still zink ve should get Blackie."

"Noooo," Italy said, "get Berlitz!"

"Nein! Blackie is vay more awesome!"

"But Berlitz is so cute!"

"Blackie's cuter!"

"No, Berlitz is!"

Germany heaved a sigh.


As the three of them walked away from the shelter, Germany couldn't help but feel pleased with himself. It felt strange to be holding onto a lead as he walked - especially when it kept trying to pull away from him - but it was oddly satisfying.

Honestly, he'd always wanted a dog, but had never gotten one. Either because he'd been too busy fighting in wars, rebuilding his economy after wars, or trying his damnedest to keep the UN, the EU and the G7 under control.

That and the fact that he didn't want to easily outlive his pet.

As Aster tugged on the lead again, he gave it a slight tug backwards to keep the German shepherd calm.

"Hey!" Italy said happily. "Maybe now you'll stop being such a grouch, Germany!" The lead he was holding yanked him forwards, almost unbalancing him.

"Ja," Prussia agreed. "Zat schtick up his arsch vas due for a shifting! Und it's all zanks to mein awesome idea!" He pulled back on his own lead.

"Hmph," Germany replied. Grouch, indeed...

Straightening himself out, Italy chuckled. "Seriously, though... you've been-a really stressed lately, so I hope-a this helps."

"Hmph. Vell, danke."

"... Though I don't-a know why you needed to adopt all three dogs..." Italy looked between Aster, Blackie and Berlitz, then back up at Germany. He beamed. "You must-a really be growing soft~!"

Feeling warmth creep up his face, Germany turned away. "... Hmph."


Germany had to admit, life was certainly different now that he had three dogs. They were so dependant, constantly clambering over one another to get his attention. Constantly howling whenever they were hungry. Or needing the toilet. Or bored.

He looked after them as best he could and it was oddly rewarding. Feeding them, exercising them, playing with them. It often helped to take his mind off work.

Prussia had been surprisingly helpful with all three of them. He'd kind of expected his brother to leave it all to him, but he was often keen to pitch in, usually taking half the workload.

... He'd been so helpful, in fact, that, one time, they'd accidentally fed the dogs twice - once per person - because of a lack of communication. So that was a new rule. No feeding before asking first.

... All in all, though, life was pretty good.


Italy smiled as he watched Germany pet his dogs. It wasn't often at all that he got to see this side of his best friend. The soft, gentle side.

As Aster leaned into Germany, the man gave the tiniest of smiles and stroked him behind the ear. The German shepherd's tail wagged happily.

Not long after, his two other dogs wandered over, also nudging Germany. Probably jealous at how much attention Aster was getting. Still smiling slightly, the man rolled his eyes and stroked them, too.

Wow. Maybe Italy was right in thinking they'd help him relax! Heaven knew he certainly needed it. He was already looking pretty relaxed, so it must be working!

... If he was honest, it was rather hard not to focus on how cute the scene looked - with this hulking beast of a man gently stroking three happy dogs - but he was trying his best...


There was much barking. Much hissing and squealing. Plenty of crashing and smashing as footsteps thundered throughout the house. Prussia screamed as he was knocked off his feet.

After Germany finally got his dogs under control, he turned around and glared down at Italy.

"Aheh..." Italy said sheepishly. "I, uh... guess I shouldn't-a bring Pookie over anymore, huh?"

He relaxed his glare slightly. "... Nein."

"Ow, mein awesome back..." Prussia grumbled from the floor.

Sighing, Germany reached down and plucked the cat from Italy's arms, intending to take her outside. She immediately hissed and squealed again, so he quickly put her back. She calmed a second later, as though nothing had happened.

He stared at the demonic creature. "... Uh... maybe you should take care of it."

"Huh?" Italy asked. He smiled. "Well, okay~" As he was walking out, he released one arm and, with a single finger, lightly bopped the cat on the head. "Naughty Pookie. Being mean to Germany like that..."

"Meow," Pookie replied.

"Now, don't do that again, okay? Or- Huh?"

"Meow."

He suddenly started screaming. "No, not the finger! No! Stop the licking! Argh! That huuuurts! Germany, her spiky tongue huuuurts!"

Germany heaved a sigh, shaking his head in exasperation. It seemed his best friend needed saving again.

Why he kept that cat around, when he could barely handle her licks, was beyond him.

Hurrying over, he gave the cat a light bop on her head. She ceased her licking, but, thankfully, didn't hiss at him.

... Good. He really hadn't wanted to resort to pulling her away again.

Italy smiled at him. "Oh, grazie."

Germany gave a light sigh. "No problem..."