Author Note: Sorry for the delay in posting. Turns out outpatient hand surgery can delay the editing process a bit. Enjoy the chapter!
The small trio returned to the hotel and swiftly packed their bags before headed out to the airport to catch their red-eye flight. Germany spent most of the ride to the airport on the phone apologizing to one of his boss's aides in Berlin for the sudden change in plans. It had been much easier for Italy to get time off; his boss had come to expect his Nation to act on a whim and vanish around the world for days or even weeks at a time. For his part, Alfred had quickly reached out to Jen to adjust the travel arrangements. By the time they arrived at the airport, Germany and Italy's tickets and passes were ready.
Alfred had also sent an email to Japan notifying him of the change in plans. The older nation had been quick to reply, expressing his appreciation of the advanced warning and assuring him that neither Italy nor Germany's presence would be unwelcome. He would, Japan promised, modify the schedule of events to better accommodate the larger group and share it once the changes were in place.
"Rethinking your decision to come to Japan with me?" Alfred teased as he swung his carry-on down to the terminal floor. Plopping unceremoniously into the nearest chair, he pulled out his phone and charger. Both items firmly in hand, he began the arduous process of selecting a working USB port from the charging panel located under his seat in hopes of topping off his battery before boarding their flight.
"I did not expect that you would choose a commercial flight rather than a government charter," Germany admitted, hesitating slightly before setting down his laptop bag and taking a seat across from America.
"This will be so much fun!" Italy enthused, settling down in the seat next to Germany. The Italian had only a small leather duffle which he allowed to drop into the narrow aisle between the rows of chairs. "It's so sad that I couldn't bring any pasta with me," he added. "I'm going to want a snack later." A wistful look crossed Italy's face as he slumped sadly onto Germany's shoulder.
"Yeah, the restrictions have gotten kinda wonky," Alfred agreed. He made a soft happy sound when his phone suddenly buzzed, indicating that he'd finally found a powered port. He sat back up. "We're still trying to figure out how to balance all the different pieces of the security puzzle."
"That's understandable," Germany agreed. Thanks to the sheer size of his land, Germany knew that America had a significantly large number of travelers passing through the thousands of airports that dotted his landscape - more than any other country in the world. Trying to determine the best way to protect everything from small regional airports to the massive international airports had to be a nightmare. And after the terrorist attack in 2001. . . Germany shuddered slightly, pushing away the thought of that awful day. He didn't know America nearly well enough yet to even hint at that topic.
Alfred covered a yawn, his entire face scrunching up as a wave of tiredness swept through him. "'Scuse me," he muttered, blinking away the yawn-induced moisture in his eyes. He threaded his fingers together and stretched his arms out, palms turned to face Germany. There was a soft crack as he popped the knuckles. "So, I'm guessing you want to know why the commercial flight to Hawaii, right?" he asked, dropping his arms back to the armrests.
Germany nodded, suddenly feeling the urge to yawn himself. He shifted slightly, inhaling deeply through his nose in an attempt to allay the impulse.
"Right, well," Alfred slouched back in his seat, absently awakening his phone so he could start texting Canada, "I'm sure I'll end up taking all government flights and stuff for everything at some point, but for now, I like being able to fly with my people." He focused on his phone, fingers flying as he sent a series of quick, short messages. "It helps me better understand the issues they go through day to day - big and small. The annoyances, the drama, stuff like that."
His phone buzzed. Glancing down, Alfred suppressed a grin. His brother's vocabulary became very adorable when appropriately agitated and "didn't [Alfred] know that he was trying to get some gosh-darned sleep, and if he kept messaging like a hoser, Prussia was going to wake up, and if Canada had to deal with that at this hour he would give America what-for the next time they met." He was so looking forward to catching "what-for" as he judiciously chose to ignore his brother's rant.
"On top of all that," Alfred continued after shooting over a picture of Italy drooling on Germany's shoulder to his brother (taken in the most surreptitious manner he could manage), "I'm absolutely certain that a government flight would be direct from DC to Tokyo, and that's a no go. I get, uh, twitchy after twelve hours on a plane I'm not personally flying. So for longer flights, it's easier to break it up somehow. Hence the connection and layover in Hawaii before it's on to the 'The Land of Rising Sun.'"
Before Germany could answer, Alfred waved his phone at him, a scheming smile spreading across his face. "Did you know Canada's having a sleepover with Prussia?" he inquired, voice purposely saccharine-sweet.
Germany blinked. "Mein bruder is where?" he demanded.
Wordlessly, Alfred passed his phone to Germany, the ongoing text exchange with Canada open on the screen.
Germany accepted the phone, twisting awkwardly in his seat to keep from dislodging the snoozing Italy. He frowned slightly when he saw the picture of them in the message log but quickly scrolled past it to the back and forth with Canada.
"He did not mention he was planning to come to Washington, D.C.," Germany commented, stilling frowning as he read through the messages America had been exchanging with Canada. "I must admit, I am not entirely certain what he is doing here," he murmured, brow furrowed as he handed the phone back to America
"He's putting the moves on my brother, by the look of it," Alfred replied. He gave his phone another considering look. "The question is, do we need to be worried about it?"
"Why would we need to be worried? Are you implying that my brother is not good enough for your brother? Do you believe him to be ill-intentioned? Because I can assure you that is not the case. He may be over the top and ridiculous, but that does not negate that he is a fine individual."
Alfred looked up, startled by the sudden wave of hostility emanating from the other man. Germany was imposing, even when seated in a too small airport lounge chair with a snoring Italy slumped against him. "Dude, I am totally not implying anything," Alfred quickly responded, holding his hands defensively up in the air. "Prussia's a cool dude. He was a huge help in Austin, and Canada's been very clear that he's a great friend and ally."
It was a relief to see Germany relax slightly. Alfred continued.
"I also know neither of you go in for all the super double-secret stealth ops stuff some of the others do." He paused, watching Germany with intent eyes. "I'm just wondering if them maybe starting a relationship is a good idea. I mean," he paused again, taking a moment to corral his thoughts, "it's ultimately their decision and all that jazz but in the end, I've only known both of them for three months. I just . . . need someone to gut-check me. Make sure I haven't somehow misread what's going on or that I've missed something."
A contemplative look suddenly crossed Alfred's face. "How do we," he gestured first to himself and then at Germany and Italy, "even do relationships. I mean, we are literally walking personifications of world politics. How do we balance our jobs with the personal stuff?"
Germany felt his breath catch as a sliver of icy terror rent him straight to his core. Had America just asked him for relationship advice? He held no illusions about himself; Germany knew very well how challenging it was for him to form emotional connections, to read unspoken cues and body language that were as complex a language as German or English.
"I, well-" Germany hesitated. How could he explain this? He'd never been in a romantic relationship, not really. He only knew what he'd read in books and seen in movies. How could he-
'Idiot', Germany scolded himself.
He jerked the shoulder under Italy's cheek then reached around and poked his soft, round face with a thick finger. "Italy, wake up," he ordered. Grabbing Italy's shoulder, he gave the slumbering nation a shake. "I said, wake up."
"Hrmph," Italy grunted. He shifted, curling up slightly as he pressed his face against Germany's shoulder. "Not now, captain," he mumbled. "I have to catch the kitty-cat."
"Italy!" Germany snapped, shoving the Mediterranean nation upright.
Much to Alfred's amusement, Italy let out an abrupt wail at the sudden movement, instinctively latching onto Germany's arm. His eyes had gone wide and an uncontrollable tremor cause him to shake.
"Germany, the kitty-cat turned into an angry bear," Italy wailed. "We were playing with a feather at home in the garden and suddenly it roared at me and turned into a giant bear! It was so scary!"
"You were dreaming, dummkopf," Germany sighed, determinedly trying to scrape the smaller nation off his arm. "Now calm down, you are causing a scene."
It was several more minutes before Italy settled down. Alfred discreetly waved away the concerned airline agents, mouthing bad dream at them as way of an explanation.
"Germany, why did you wake me up?" Italy finally pouted. He crossed his arms and slouched down into the hard chair, trying awkwardly to find a more comfortable position. "I was having the best dream," he continued wistfully.
"Yes, we know, you have told us. Several times," Germany grumbled. "America had a question. I think you are well suited to answer him."
"Me? But Germany, you're so smart! You should never have trouble answering anybody's question ever!"
Germany shot America a sharp look as the other man coughed, obviously trying to cover up a loud chuckle. Instead of shying away from the implied threat like most, America merely grinned and refused to be cowed.
Gritting his teeth, Germany continued. "America was curious to know how Nations such as ourselves manage personal relationships. Ones formed outside of regular diplomatic relationships."
"Oh!" Italy exclaimed. He abruptly straightened back up. "I can answer that!" He scooted forward until he was perched on the very edge of his seat. "It can be really, really tough for us to make friends," Italy began. "Wars and changing sides and being taken over means we are always getting mad at each other. But then sides change again. So then we're not mad at each other anymore. It can be very confusing. But sometimes, like with me and Germany, we can became such good friends that even fighting doesn't change things. It's so nice being friends with Germany. He has such good food. Like here in America.
"Oh, and dating," he continued, "well that's kinda tricky," an unusually thoughtful look crossing his face. "It doesn't always work out. And sometimes, like with my big brother Romano and big brother Spain, they keep going back and forth, dating and breaking up over and over again."
"Austria and Hungary have remained together," Germany noted, thinking about his oddball cousins.
"You're right, Germany, they have! And they don't even live in the same house anymore," Italy agreed, giving Germany a beaming smile. He turned back to America. "Dating can be really, really tough, so a lot of us just go out with our people instead. And that's a-okay!"
"So what kind of odds would you give Canada and Prussia?" Alfred asked.
"Canada and Prussia?" Italy's eyes went wide. "I didn't know they were dating!"
"Well, they're having a sleepover, at the very least," America responded, waggling his eyebrows at Italy suggestively.
"Oooh." Italy mirrored the waggling. "How exciting!" He spun around in his seat and started smacking Germany on the shoulder. "Why didn't tell me Prussia liked Canada?!" he scolded. "Now I have to wait days and days before I can ask Canada if he likes Prussia back!"
"Mein bruder's personal life is not a subject for gossip!" Germany's large hands shot out and engulfed Italy's more delicate ones. "And in any case, if he has romantic feelings for Canada he has not chosen to inform me of this!"
Italy released an outraged squeal and began determinedly trying to drag his hands free. However, Germany's iron grip made Italy's efforts futile. As their useless struggle continued, Alfred began to quietly gather up his belongings. Their plane had arrived and was releasing its passengers into the terminal. Since he, Germany, and Italy were all flying Business Class, they would be amongst the first to board.
"Hey, dudes!" Alfred interject, suddenly surging to his feet.
The Europeans froze then turned to him, blinking in surprise and confusion. Alfred cocked his head to the side expectedly.
"American Airlines flight 1828 to Honolulu is now boarding Business Class."
The sudden announcement took Germany and Italy by surprise, and they quickly scooped up their carry-on bags, hurrying to follow Alfred's lead.
"Onwards!" Alfred cheered. Grinning, he turned and headed towards the plane.