A/N: I keep putting off India because I have a very vague idea of what I want to do with him. Very vague, but it's there.
Also mixing it up a little today. I don't really think it's necessary for the two Irelands to have separate sessions, so they're going to share the machine in this chapter. :3
Fear of a Nation
Ireland Brother's Session
Under the charming, gentlemanly façade, Scotland was being cold, calculating, and tightly wound. The same could be said for Milan. Nothing went unnoticed in either of their sharp minds.
Milan analyzed periodically the body language and mood of the Scot. There were only two rules in a game like this: do only what you are prepared to pay the consequences for, and you are only as safe as they feel. He maintained eye contact with her and gave her gentle smiles. When their drinks came, a beer for him in a tall glass and a glass of wine for her, he raised his cup towards hers with a tentative grin and said, "Sláinte." She just as hesitantly clinked her glass against his, and slowly, gradually allowed her guard to slip away as the night went on.
"So anyways, this big lout of a man puts his hand up the waitress's skirt, and I could already tell that she's had quite enough of it. She pulls a can of Mace out of her bosom, if you can believe it, and tells him, "Sir, if it was any other time of the month, I wouldn't mind so much.'" Scotland finished his story with a snort of laughter. Milan couldn't help herself, she helplessly laughed with him, though her cheeks were red with a furious blush.
When they had finished their giggling, Milan wiped her mouth with her napkin. "So, Mr. Scotland-" he waved his hand dismissively. "Call me Allistor, hen." She blushed a light pink. "Alright, Allistor... What's it like, being a nation?" With a twinkle in his eye, he returned with, "What's it like being a scientist?"
"What? That's not fair, I asked you first!" Allistor took another gulp of his beer. "Aye, I suppose ya did," he agreed. "How d'ya want me to answer? It's not like I've experienced anything to compare my own self with."
Milan thought about it. "True, I guess," she admitted. "You haven't answered my question. What's being a scientist like?" Scotland pressed. "Psychologist, actually," she corrected him. "Ah," Allistor groaned good- naturedly. "Even better." Milan couldn't help but giggle at the anticipated reaction. "I actually worked at Scotland Yard for a bit after college," she added.
One of the most difficult things to do in operations of this nature is using knowledge that you aren't supposed to have. Much easier than that is being presented information that you shouldn't already know and pretending ignorance.
"You worked at my little brother's police headquarters? Not bad, miss. I bet you liked it there." Scotland wagered with a grin. Milan grinned as well and ducked her head. "It was pretty exciting, yeah," she admitted. "But I realized that my services were needed more in the general populace." He raised an eyebrow. "What's that to mean, exactly?" Milan took a sip of her white wine. "Every few days, there was a new victim. Rape, molestation, assault, trauma. At the time, my job was to help the policemen. But every time I saw the victims shuffling in and out... I wanted to help them, but I was never allowed. It could jeopardize the case."
Milan realized that she was giving away far too much about herself and getting nothing in return. She took another long swig of wine from her glass. "I believe, Mr. Kirkland, that you know me far better than I know you," she said with a playful glint in her eyes.
Allistor tensed for a split second. He gave a fake chuckle that sounded a bit convincing. "I wouldn't say that, miss. You've seen pretty intimate details of my head," he tapped his temple gently. "I've not shared those details with anyone. It'd be too easy for an enemy of the UK to take advantage." Milan nodded, understanding. "You and your brothers have had a rocky past," she commented. It was Allistor's turn to nod- although he did so guiltily. "Aye... We were always at each other's throats."
"But now you guys are better?" She asked. Scotland nodded absently. "That doesn't mean I don't regret it, though. Arthur's my brother. I should have done a better job of protecting him. Do you have siblings?" Milan shook her head. "No, I was- and still am, as far as I know- an only child. I only ever had overprotective parents." A smile twitched at Allistor's lips. "That doesn't sound too bad," he mused. "As nations, we don't exactly have the family bonds that humans quite have. Relationships with each other... It's risky. Our bosses might decide they hate each other, declare war, and then it's just broken hearts and bones everywhere."
Milan was captivated despite herself. This man was exotic, handsome, from a world so different from her own. "That sounds... I can't imagine it," she managed. Scotland shrugged. "So I mostly let Arthur take care of the international affairs. Don't tell him I said this, because I'll deny it, but in the relationships department, Arthur's made of stronger stuff than I." He gave her a cheeky wink.
"Allistor... I honestly shouldn't be saying this. The people running this project..." She hesitated, and Allistor suddenly realized that the constant blush was just her inability to hold her alcohol. "The people running this project believe as you do, that relationships with other nations are bad ideas. They go so far as to call it a weakness," she gave him a piercing, meaningful stare. He swallowed. "Would such... Attachment be reason enough to be called inadequate?" He asked somewhat apprehensively. Milan bit her lip. "That really depends. The strength of the relationship and how it affects the interests of their bosses involved are the main factors, I believe. Allistor-"
She impulsively reached across the table and grabbed his hand. He started, but didn't jerk away. Her intensity startled him. "They've been watching Arthur, France, and America very closely. They know of France and England's past, and suspect something between him and America. Switzerland and Liechtenstein, too. Tell Arthur to be careful, please." Allistor's pulse was loudly thudding in his ears and his hand closed around Milan's. "Whatcha mean? They're watching us? Who's they?" Milan seemed to realize what she'd done. "Nothing, I- shouldn't have said anything. It's part of the test, looking for side affects-"
Allistor started speaking very fast in a very low voice. "That's total bollocks and we both know it. You know more than you're letting on, psychologist. I'm not going to make you tell me anything. But if you respect me, and my friends and what we do, answer me this: are you a threat to us?" Milan was breathless. He was so... She couldn't describe this man. She had to answer him. Her gut felt hot, pressuring her to answer him. "Yes." She said. "But there's a way to protect your family." His grip on her hand tightened. "And what might that be?" He asked huskily. His eyes ravaged her face like a hungry wolf, searching for something, she didn't know what. "Become a fixture on iithe project," she whispered. "Earn a place in our organization, and we won't touch your brothers. No one, nothing can get to the loved ones of our members. Join us, and you become untouchable."
The moment of truth has arrived. Milan held her breath. The entire purpose of this date, this whole web of deceit and half- truths, it all hung in the balance. A single word or interruption could tear the entire night to shreds. She wondered briefly what her boss would say if she failed.
"I'll think it over," Allistor finally said. "This deal sounds as sweet as the wine on your lips."
Milan giggled like a Japanese schoolgirl. The spell was broken. "It's getting late. May I drive you home?" Allistor asked mock- formally. Milan but her lip. "All right," she relented when she saw Allistor begin to look slightly crestfallen. At her answer, a wide, white- toothed smile stole across his features. "Thank ye for letting me accompany ya. It'd be my delight, Ms. Milan," he escorted her to her car and held the door open for her to hop in. Before he could close it, she stopped it with her hand. "Call me Dusana," she requested.
Allistor smiled and closed the door. Once his expression was out of her view, his smile dropped and he scowled. "Right clever, that one," he muttered before letting himself into the driver's side.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Connor and Sean got a late start the next morning, as expected of them. They raced each other through the streets of D. C. to the office building.
It was a tie, but Sean would swear that he was half a nano- second faster. What was waiting for them in the sterile room was unusual, to say the least.
Two throne- like chairs faced each other in the center of a room. The walls seemed to be made out of the high- tech screens that would show the scientists their hallucinations. Between the two headrests was an odd metal rod. The brothers exchanged a glance.
Milan breezed over with a glowing look about her. "Connor and Sean Kirkland, yes? Please, come sit down, it doesn't matter which side you sit on." The Irish brothers followed her instructions. Connor say in the seat facing right, Sean in the seat facing the left. The aforementioned metal rod was positioned to lightly touch their foreheads. It was an odd sensation; an intense, electric- type vibration pressing into their foreheads. "You two will share a hallucination," the American scientist told them. The Japanese man ignored everyone in the room in favor of his tablet.
Connor took a deep breath and let his eyes shut first, then Sean, following his lead.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxx
The first thing the brothers felt was an intense whipping of wind tearing through their tousled hair and clothes. They smelled the familiar, clean scent of a storm about to break. Connor felt grainy dirt under his boots and Sean slowly opened his eyes. Connor gasped, but Sean simply furrowed his brow.
A potato field.
A dry, sandy- soiled, dead potato field. The brothers shared a panicked look.
"Oi," a small voice said. The brothers jumped three feet in the air. "Wee lass!" Sean gasped when he caught sight of the speaker. She was tiny and bony with sunken- in eyes and cheeks. "What the hell d'ya think yer doin' out here? A storm's about to break!"
The little girl's green eyes flashed defiantly. "What can a storm do? Make noise, send harmless rain that might make something grow. Once in a blue moon, lightening might strike something we care about." She lifted her chin. "What's a storm to do?" Connor stared at her. "You've grown too fast, lassie," he observed. "Thank you," she responded. "I'll be having whatever food you've got in those pockets, now."
Sean lifted a thick eyebrow. "Terrible sorry, lass. I haven't got anything with me. Nor's him," he jerked his head to Connor. The little girl glared heavily at them. "Liars," she spat.
Her green dancing eyes immediately flashed red and her body elongated and stretched until she towered over them. She snarled at them, showing a poisonous- red forked tongue and carnivorous teeth. Huge, raggedy black bat- like wings unfolded from her back. "Pixie!" Sean yelled. The brothers turned on their heels and ran in the opposite direction.
Their feet dug into the sandy soil and used their heels to propel them forward. Wind from the coming storm buffeted them, pushing them back to the vicious faerie. Connor wondered briefly if the pixie would swallow them whole or take her own sweet time tearing off their limbs.
Sean was pretty much terrified. There's no other way to put it. He took a look at his brother. Connor's pale face was flushed and he was quickly tiring. "Oi, Connor! Put some strength in your heels!" Sean bellowed. Connor managed another burst of speed at his words. Sean skidded to a stop and raised his fists to the hissing pixie boring down on him.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Survival instinct is good, willingness to sacrifice himself for his brother is admirable. What's the issue?"
"The issue, Yakazowi, is the conflict of interest here. Is Northern Ireland a part of Great Britain, or Ireland?"
"The fact that Ireland, England, and Northern Ireland are separate entities might shed some light into that question..."
"... Sorry for snapping, Yakazowi. I'm a bit stressed out."
"We all are, Milan."
"Can we focus?"
"Shut up, Miller. "
"Jeez, sorry. I have to agree with Yakazowi, here. I see no reason not to pass them."
"You're right. I'm... Ugh. I don't know. I'm going to get some sleep."
" 'Kay, do that..."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Romano stared at the back of Antonio's head. He had been sitting motionless like that for nearly twenty minutes, and it was freaking him out. "España," he called quietly. Antonio twitched. Romano plowed on, relieved that at least Antonio could hear him and was kind of acknowledging him.
"Toni, could you do me a favor?" He asked. Antonio shifted his body to face Romano. "Could you smile for me?" Romano asked. Spain blinked. "No, idiota, that's blinking. Smiling is with your mouth."
Spain couldn't help himself; his mouth twitched. So did Romano's. "Por favor?" He asked, switching to Spanish. Spain lost it then. He couldn't help grinning broadly when Romano used his language. "Oh mi amor! I'm sorry. I was just thinking." Romano scoffed. "Then stop it, Tonio. It scared me when you think." Spain snickered.
"España, you're worrying me. Really. You've been mopey and angry ever since I came back. When will you be your normal stupidly happy self again?" Romano snapped at him.
"When I find out the truth," Spain said simply. "What happened while you were gone? It's eating away at me, Romano, driving me crazy." Romano huffed. "Does it matter? I'm fine, damn it! I'm here, I'm with you! If they haven't come back for me yet, then they won't!" He stopped talking when Spain's eyes cut to him. "It matters to me." Romano shook his head in frustration.
"Por favore, España. Drop it. It won't happen again." Spain shook his head. "I can't, Romano. I can't just forget what happened." Romano sighed. "Fine. I'm going to bed."
Spain watched him go with a small pang.
A/N: I know, I know, I keep taking forever! The chapters hopefully maybe possibly be coming for frequently now. I hope. *cough*
Also, I'm aware that the Spain and Romano scenes are a bit repetitive, but there is a point to them. :3 AND I HAD SO MUCH FUN writing about Scotland and Milan. I might do other fics like that scene. idk. I had this idea for a story with France, but I'm saying nil about it.
Look forward to Sweden!
Love you guys!
Roxy