Disclaimer: If Axis Powers Hetalia were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.

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Minimal fluff 09!

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Of Seamen and Landlubbers 14

Spain was lying on the bed, slightly sitting up while jotting down notes on their travels, when Romano came into the room, wearing a long undershirt Spain recognized to belong to himself. He hadn't reacted and went back to writing until Romano climbed onto the bed next to him, crawling up to the empty space next to Spain. That earned him a reaction, as Spain closed his log book and set it aside on the table. "Romano! It's not every night you join me!"

"Shut up, dammit." Romano reached up and lifted the glasses off the bridge of Spain's nose. "I didn't know you wore glasses."

"They're reading glasses."

"Your eyes are bad when you're this young? I shouldn't marry a cripple after all."

"I'm not crippled!" Spain chuckled as he wrapped his arms around Romano, resulting in a violent struggle. "So if I got rid of my glasses, you would marry me?"

"That's not what I meant," Romano scoffed, sitting up and crossing his arms. Spain chuckled again, coaxing the older twin down on the bed so they were lying facing each other. The close proximity seemed unnerving to Romano, who instantly propped himself up on an elbow.

"I have a question," he asked slowly. Spain sensed hesitation and smiled encouragingly at him. "How did you react when you found out I was a guy? I mean, I know you were head over heels since the beginning, but what did you do when you realized I wasn't a girl?"

Spain exhaled, the friendly look on his face still present. "Why are you worried about something like that?"

"I'm not worried. I just want to know."

Spain rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "Well…it was surprising, that's for sure…"

Spain knew he shouldn't be surprised he had been invited to Rome's annual winter formal, as he was Romano's fiancé, but he was excited about it nonetheless. The envelope had a scent of lavender, the familiar perfume that he'd smelled on Romano times before. It was enough for him to chase a stupid thought that maybe Romano had handled his invitation personally.

It was true. He couldn't deny it. He really was 'stupidly and blindly' in love with Romano, as his personal secretary Portugal put it. When he'd shown the invitation to Portugal and requested the evening of the formal be freed, the brunette had looked at him with a sly expression.

"Should I free up the day after as well? And should I be expecting you that night?"

Spain flushed but he knew he was grinning like a maniac still the same. "Of course! What would you expect?"

Portugal opened the date book, sighing as he flipped the pages to the date. "I don't know, Spain…you seem more and more like a masochist the more you spend time with Romano. She keeps you under her finger and you always go crawling back to her even when you've displeased her or she's hurt you. It's astounding."

"It's love," Spain insisted.

"You were always the dramatic one," Portugal mused, penning down the date. "I just don't hope you get burned in the end."

Portugal was always pessimistic. Spain ignored his opinions and looked forward to the formal as if it was a day of his coronation. On the day, he quickly assembled his finest outfit and dragged Portugal out to find a corsage for Romano. He had been so absorbed that Portugal had to remind him of the time and he dashed home to change. Coming out of his room in his most formal best, he turned to let Portugal have a 360 degree look as the secretary clapped halfheartedly.

"You look stunning," Portugal almost yawned. "Although it would be better if you put all that effort into someone other than Romano."

"You never liked Romano," Spain pouted, looking himself in the mirror.

"Forgive me for not worshiping the arrogant spoiled girl, Spain," Portugal proclaimed, rolling his eyes. "She hurts my best friend and you expect me to sing her praises? Not to mention she's hardly a beauty."

Spain frowned. "Don't say that."

"Sorry. It's what I think." Portugal stood to get the carriage. "I'll meet you in the front in a bit. Don't forget the roses."

The roses! Spain couldn't decide in the end what corsage to get and Portugal had taken the liberty of deciding for him and getting an elaborate rose corsage with a brilliant arrangement of red and pink roses. Portugal may not have supported his decision about Romano, but he'd do his best for his friend.

"When should I come around?" Portugal asked, when they reached the front gates of Rome's palace. Well-dressed men and women were already making their way in. Portugal surveyed this as merely background and looked as if he was impatient on making his way back home for a relaxing three hours of no Romano talk.

"Around midnight, I guess!" Spain chirped cheerfully, leaping down from the carriage. He was about to stride over to the gates when Portugal called after him.

"Score today," his friend called, before urging the horses forward. Spain chuckled to himself as he presenting the invitation to the servant at the door and poked into the throne room. Rome was currently discussing something animatedly with a few of his friends but flagged Spain closer.

"My friends, this is the face of the one who will hopefully tame my granddaughter," Rome announced proudly. Spain grinned.

"Where is Romano?" he asked, earning knowing looks and smiles from Rome's friends. Rome himself smirked before nodding toward the door. "She's in her room. She said she wanted to look extra good for you tonight."

"Did she?" Spain felt his heart somersault and hurriedly went to the door. He did not get a chance to hear Rome's friends pull him aside to ask why on earth he would make up such a blatant lie, did not hear Rome laugh and say it was all in Spain's best interest.

Spain had been to Romano's room so many times that he could have walked down the hallway without his eyes open. The hallway was deserted; no maids were making their rounds today as they were all focused at the ballroom with all the guests. Holding the rose corsage in one hand, Spain was about to knock when he noticed the door was slightly ajar and poked his head in, about to call Romano.

Instead, there was a boy in the room, a completely flat-chested boy wearing stockings and hair like Romano. The mirror was facing away from the door, preventing Spain from being noticed as he gaped. The boy soundlessly slipped on a petticoat before lacing up an ornate velvet dress. Spain blinked, but no matter how he looked at it, his eyes couldn't trick him: there was a boy in the room, then there was Romano. Therefore, Romano was a boy. He almost dropped the rose corsage but withdrew his head before he could make a sound.

Backing into the wall in the hallway, Spain tried to calm his racing thoughts. Romano was a boy? Why would Rome tell him Romano was a girl? Why was Romano pretending to be a girl? But Romano was supposed to be related to Rome? Did that mean that Romano was one of the missing male heirs? Had he fallen in love with one of the heirs?

Now that he'd realized Romano was a guy, Spain fully expected his feelings to die down, for him to feel surprised and a bit cheated, but still, as he thought of Romano, his heart raced. Cocking his head in surprise, he quickly replayed the scene again with the same results. Romano was a boy. He was still in love with Romano.

His head was starting to hurt.

Before Spain could rethink everything again, make his head hurt more than it already did, the door in front of him opened and Romano stood in the doorway, wearing the velvet dress and a snowflake headpiece. She…no, it was a he now…he blinked in surprise, noticing Spain in the shadows.

"Spain?"

Quickly remembering his manners (girl or boy alike), he bowed before stepping up to Romano with the rose corsage in hand. Now that Romano was revealed to be an heir, he had to be extra polite. "You look beautiful tonight, Romano." It was a boy! He was talking to a boy! He was admiring the dress on the body of a boy!

And he was still very much in love.

"Stupid, don't say sappy things like that, dammit." Now that he could think about it, Romano's voice was always a bit too low to be a girl's. How could he not have noticed it before? The rose corsage looked perfect on the velvet.

"Shall I escort you to the ballroom?"

"I can walk myself," Romano insisted. He hurried off, as if attempting to leave Spain behind, but the curly-haired navy captain followed him doggedly, staring at him as if he had never seen him before. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing…" Could he bring it up? Maybe Rome and Romano didn't want anyone to know. Certainly, no one suspected the court's lady in waiting to be a man. And surely Romano wouldn't want anyone to know if he was going to dress up in women's clothes and tell everyone he was a girl. And was it right to say he found out because he peeped in while he was changing? His head was starting to hurt again.

"Stop looking at me like that then. I know I'm pretty, but that's ridiculous."

He had figured out a state secret! He couldn't let Romano out of his sight now, especially if he was the heir. Grabbing the twin's wrist, Spain stopped Romano from wandering out of his sight in the crowded ballroom. There was already a soft tune starting to build up; the dancing would begin soon. "Romano, will you dance with me?"

Romano looked back at him, a slight startled expression on his face. "Okay," he said slowly, his eyes wide as his cheeks slowly flushed. Spain sighed with relief inwardly and guided the now flustered boy to the dance floor, breezing past a triumphant looking Rome.

The first song was slow, a definite ballroom waltz. Spain wasn't the best at reading feelings, but Romano's embarrassment was too obvious to miss. It seemed as slow dancing was not his forte and he was constantly tripping over his feet. As the last note was played, the tune suddenly picked up, no longer quite a waltz. As the floor started to clear, Spain kept his hand pressed on Romano's.

"Romano! Want me to show you a dance called the Tarantella?"

The Tarantella consisted of spastic motion and although Romano had insisted he would take no part, it seemed contagious, or else it was a miracle, that he joined in, mimicking Spain's actions and laughing. Rome, never one to shy away from a good time, pulled one of the women around him to join the dance floor, winking at Spain as he passed. The mood was instantly light and even as the song died down, the good vibes and small talk did not cease. Romano was still chuckling as he went to get some air, and Spain followed him.

"I've never done anything like that before," Romano said, standing out on the balcony and staring up at the stars. "It was stupid and pointless, but pretty damn fun."

Spain smiled at him, leaning against the ledge. "Romano, you are quite something."

In the dark, Spain could hardly tell Romano was flushing. Continuing to smile lightly, Spain cocked his head. "You know I love you, right?"

"Yes. You've told me countless times already."

"I still do love you. I don't care if you don't say it back. I still love you no matter who you are." Romano's expression changed, hardened, before settling on confused. "Sometimes I don't know what you mean when you talk," the heir said finally. "It's getting chilly. Let's go back inside."

Spain nodded, leaned forward as he if were about to kiss Romano, before walking over to the door to hold it open.

"And that's the story!" Spain was still grinning like he did at the beginning of the story and Romano wondered how anyone could tell such an intimate story with such carelessness. "I mean, I was a bit surprised, but I didn't really mind. Cause everyone else was playing with it, so I figured, why not?"

"So did you ever mean it?" Romano leaned closer.

"Mean what?"

"When you said you loved me." Closer still.

"Always. I always meant it." Spain chuckled, finally looking sheepish. "I don't know why you never believed me, but…"

Romano leaned down and kissed Spain on the mouth.

--

Italy sighed, staring up at the sky. The moon was pretty tonight. Its light almost hid the stars in the black sky. Feeling a little content, Italy suddenly remembered Germany's reaction that morning, when he'd woken the blonde wearing nothing but the apron.

"Italy," Germany said, his voice harsher than usual as he covered his eyes. "Italy. Put some clothes on before anyone sees you."

Maybe Romano was right. He shouldn't continue chasing after Germany if the man wasn't interested, right? But although he had resolved he'd tell Germany how he felt to get it all in the open, he hadn't been able to say anything. How could he explain that his 'I love yous' were all real, when he'd told Germany he always meant then? How could he show Germany they were different?

"Italy." Italy jumped, almost leaping out of his skin, and turned to see Germany walk up to him at the figurehead. Instinctively shrinking back at Germany's angry look, Italy quickly tried to explain himself. "Oh, Germany, I wasn't really tired so I didn't go to bed yet, I'll come in a while, I still want to get some air…"

"Is something wrong?"

Italy blinked, unsure about the question. "What?"

"You've been acting strangely lately." Germany sounded strict, but it was his usual tone. "Is something wrong?"

"No! Nothing!" Italy played with his fingers. There was no one around. He could just blurt it out, right? Then he'd have gotten the big thing on his chest off. Why was it when he had to speak, he couldn't, and when he should keep his big mouth shut, he would go off on a string? "That is…I just wanted to say…"

"Go on."

"I…Germany…" Take deep breaths. He could do this! Just three little words! Three little syllables! Italy gripped his hands into fists. "Germany, I…!"

Did he really have a chance, when Germany's face darkened like that? Italy felt a shadow fall over him and started to turn around when Germany seized him and pulled him close in a protective embrace. A spark hit where Italy had been standing a moment before and the younger twin looked up to see Turkey floating a few feet above, smiling diabolically.

"Think you're faster than my paralysis bolt?" Turkey cackled. "I came for my twin!"

"You never give up, do you?" Germany called, keeping Italy pressed against him. "What will it take for you to leave the twins alone?"

"Until I get one myself!" Turkey shouted, swooping down low with energy crackling in his hand, aiming for Germany's head. Italy whimpered, clutching at Germany's sleeve. At the last moment, before Turkey's hand collided with Germany's head, the blonde officer dove aside, taking Italy with him, falling into the coils of rope. Italy flushed as Germany landed on top of him.

"Stay down," Germany ordered, hovering over the embarrassed twin and looking up for Turkey. "Stay by me and you won't get hurt."

"Okay." As Turkey flew down again, Germany took a coil of rope and threw it at the airborne enemy, grabbing Italy with one arm and taking off across the deck. Italy felt his heart race; being held by Germany so tightly was so unusual!

"You rats think you can get away with my prize!" Turkey growled, urging his carpet along as he tailed Germany and Italy. Shooting a beam of static, Turkey's aim finally hit and Germany stumbled as a light shock ran up the back of his knee. Italy cried out as they tumbled and hit the railing.

"Don't think I won't hesitate to kill you if you get in my way," Turkey snarled, raising his hand. "Just be a good boy and scoot away."

Germany shifted so he was leaning in front of Italy, who was shivering behind him. His leg was still feeling wobbly. "I am one of the twins' guards," he said clearly. "I won't let them get hurt."

"Suit yourself," Turkey shrugged. The energy building his hand was starting to spark, sending an electric current in the air. Germany turned, facing his back toward Turkey, shielding Italy from the coming attack. Italy flushed again as Germany leaned close; their noses were touching.

"Hey, camarada! How many times do we have to kick you out of the Valiente?" Spain's voice sounded oddly cheerful in such a threatening situation and there was a sound of flying rope, a cry, and a clatter on deck.

Germany and Italy turned. Turkey had been lassoed and fallen on deck, while the carpet stayed floating in midair, waiting for its master to saddle on again. The rope trailed back to Spain's hands, where the captain was smiling and holding the rope taunt. "It seems like you should be on crew if you going to be here all the time!"

"Don't think you can get your grubby paws on my brother!" Romano shot out of nowhere, leaping on Turkey, whose arms had been tied to his sides with the lasso shot. "I'll teach you to mess with me or anyone I know!" Punching every inch of Turkey he could reach, Romano finally reached over and ripped the white mask off the man's face.

Turkey shouted, suddenly throwing Romano off, making the older twin lose his grip on the mask and sending it flying out to sea. Sending a crackling bolt up the rope, Turkey severed Spain's hold on him and shook the ropes loose. His face seemed to be his weakness, as he struggled to keep one hand on his face.

"Is your anonymity that important?" Romano asked aloud, scooting over to Spain. Turkey groped around, growling angrily.

"Give me back the mask!" Turkey demanded.

"Sorry. It's out in the ocean now," Romano said, pointing to the sea.

Howling, Turkey's hands crackled with electricity and he lunged at Romano; but the twin had a trick up his sleeve. Whistling, the twin summoned the flying carpet with the same sound as Turkey. The carpet flew up, shielding Romano from the electric punch. Sizzling from the contact, the carpet started going berserk, flying and twitching. Turkey sensed something amiss.

"Carpet? Carpet! What're you doing?!"

Grabbing a tassel, Turkey attempted to stop the crazy carpet's antics but the carpet soared up, taking the frantic man with it as it jerked away in the air, Turkey shouting behind it. Romano smiled successfully.

"I guess spending too much time with Turkey has its advantages."

Germany turned to check on Italy, bringing their faces close together again. The younger heir blushed, barely taking a breath as a second passed and Germany stood up, striding quickly below deck. He stood up as well, starting to call for the blonde but Germany had disappeared by that point. Feeling a bit frantic, he turned to his brother, who was standing next to Spain, with a blank expression.

"Well? Go after him, stupid."

Scampering below deck, Italy paused at the foot of the stairs. There were many rooms Germany could have gone into. He could even have gone to visit Berlin. He couldn't go around the cause a fuss so late in the night. Berlin would have gone asleep by now. Taking a breath, he went with his gut and walked into his room.

Germany was sitting with his back against the wall, head in his hands as if grieving for a loved one. Italy crossed the room soundlessly and kneeled in front of the officer, reaching over to tap Germany's hand. At the contact, Germany stiffened, taking his hands from his face and maintaining a professional, apathetic expression. "Italy. Excuse my rash behavior. I shouldn't have grabbed you like that."

"Germany…" Shifting so he was sitting on his feet, Italy looked earnestly at Germany. "Why did you leave like that?"

Germany cleared his throat, a slight flush creeping up his neck. "Italy. I think it's in both of our best interests if we keep some distance between each other."

Italy's eyes widened, the big round brown eyes nearly swallowing Germany whole. "But why?"

"I'm merely an officer. You're one of the twin heirs. It's best if there are no attachments involved. I cannot afford to get involved with you. You're making it difficult." Noticing Italy's apparent confusion, Germany clarified. "If I stay with you, I might fall for you." There. He'd finally said what was on his mind. Now Italy could act accordingly, and stay away…

"Then…then please do!" Germany blinked in surprise and nearly had a heart attack as Italy leaned in and kissed him. "Because I really, really want you to! It's okay if I like you back then. I really, really love you, you know!" Italy squirmed closer, his determined face littered with a fierce blush. "So please fall for me…"

"I can't," Germany insisted, uncomfortable with the closeness. He was used to a strict, disciplined life and Italy was throwing him off course. "You're the heir of a nation. It wouldn't be right for you to be with someone in my position."

"I don't care." Italy looked nervous, but his eyes dared Germany to contradict him. Germany was one who could say no easier than he knew how to breathe, but Italy was someone he found hard to reject. "I want to be with you. So it doesn't matter who I am and who you are."

Reality was not as cut and dry as Italy put it, but Germany found it hard to help himself and put a hand on the younger heir's head, pulling him closer so their lips met again, an excited squeak leaving Italy's mouth. It was against his better judgment and everything he had planned his life out to be. But when Italy ran his hands through his hair, Germany figured just this once couldn't hurt.

--

Poland had drawn up the maps, and even offered to take Lithuania on his ship. Lithuania explained that he planned on taking the Hero U.S, in case America needed his crew – and besides, Sealand was more than ready to sail and the crew was already ready. The blonde was very enthusiastic, already decked out to get ready to sail. "Oh, you totally don't know how excited I am! It's like I'm part of a whole big fun pack adventure! To commemorate, I think I'll go get that adorable shade of lippy I saw!" Skipping out of Russia's house, Poland called back to Lithuania as he made his way to the port city. "We're setting sail in about three hours! It takes about a day to get to that island, you know!"

Lithuania nodded, as he went back in the house, amidst bustling as America's crew were getting ready to take their belongings to the ship. Russia had offered help when they docked, but he hadn't let anyone help the Hero U.S's departure. Lithuania ducked his head as he passed by the man, but Russia reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Lithuania," the big man said, his voice sounding void of emotion. "Are you really going to be leaving?"

"Yes." Lithuania swallowed, no longer feeling a paralyzing fear, although his stomach was starting to flip unpleasantly. He didn't like to look Russia in the eye from the beginning, but even more so after they had slept together. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got make sure…"

"You were always my favorite, you know." Lithuania bit his lip, staring at the floor. "I always favored your company. I've done a lot of things I can't apologize for. But I hope you know that."

"What is that," Lithuania muttered. "Your type of a confession?"

"How did you know?" Russia grinned, furthering troubling Lithuania's stomach. "Everything's better when you're around, Lithuania. Will you come back?"

"I don't know." There was an underlying no, and Lithuania felt Russia's grip on his arm tighten slightly. For a moment, he wondered if the man would stop him from leaving, physically blockading the door, but the next moment, he had been released.

"You can come back any time, Lithuania." Russia smiled mysteriously. "I just want the best for my loved ones. But my house gets lonely sometimes."

"What about your sisters?" Lithuania asked. Although he had been set free from the vice grip, he found it hard to walk away. "Ukraine and Belarus?"

"Ukraine's got too much on her hands to visit me," Russia said, looking a bit sad. "And I've got guards in case Belarus tries to visit me." Russia was usually the one instilling fear and Lithuania had always thought it strange that such a pretty woman was the one who could frighten such a person. "Poland's awfully annoying and none of the soldiers matches up to you. I hope you'll come back when you've finished with your business."

Stockholm's Syndrome. Maybe he'd fallen under its influence without his conscious knowing. "Maybe," Lithuania said falteringly. "Maybe I'll come back. But I wouldn't hold my breath."

"I can hold my breath for a long time," Russia replied, the perpetual smile on his face.

To be continued

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Notes: Oh, my dear readers, I seemed to have neglected updating this! So here is a chapter for all your times. Ooer, it is fraught with sappy fluff. I apologize. But we all love a good Spain/Romano and Gertalia, don't we? Yes we do. I'm sort of short changing the JOKER part, but rest assured that the Giripan and Ita-twins arcs sort of die down at the end. And all secrets will be revealed. Stay tuned for the next chapter, heading your way shortly! Review, please!