A/N: Hi, friends. How are we today? Doing good? Fantastic. Doing not so good? It'll be alright. How about to cheer you up, we sit down, read a story, then do a little painting later? Sound good? It's amazing how therapeutic painting can be. You don't have to be good at it. You don't have to be bad at it. It just…I don't know. It just is. And I think that's beautiful. I'm going to shut up now and we're going to get to work. Shall we? Alright then! (And for those of you that are kind of sluts for a bit of angst? You're welcome.)
I adored the thought of my little family. Meeting America and Canada yesterday solidified that. Although, I wish I would've been able to spend some more time with Canada. He seemed sweet. America was probably a handful in the right context, but I started to think of them both like my big brothers. That meant my two loving fathers were probably having breakfast. I toddled out of bed and went on a search for Britain and France. Not ideal for my foggy head right away in the morning, but I think I'll manage. I live here now. I should get to know the house a little better.
"Please, Arthur," I heard France beg from down the hall, "It's been an eternity since it's been just the two of us."
"We've also a new baby in the house, Francis," Britain argued, "Don't get me wrong. I'd love a holiday, too. It's just…"
"You worry about her, don't you?" France sighed out, "I worry, too. If she worries you so much, we could always get a sitter. I'm sure Alfred and Matthieu would take care of her while we're gone. It'd only be for a couple of days anyway."
"Are you mad?" Britain gasped, "Do you not remember what happened when we let Alfred watch Mattie for one afternoon?"
"That was a lot of maple syrup," France shivered. Terra would like some context. There had to be a story. Maybe I could ask America and Canada the next time I see them, "So, Alfred and Matthieu are off the table. Well, what about Prussia? I don't think he has any plans for the weekend."
"Absolutely not," Britain shot him down, "I wouldn't trust Prussia with a goldfish, let alone her."
"What's wrong with Gilbert?" France wondered, "He keeps Gilbird alive. I don't see why he wouldn't do the same with Terra."
"She doesn't deserve that," Britain protected me. Or at least I'm assuming he did, "And who knows if she's going to get sick again like she was."
"It's sweet how you look out for her, Arthur," France gushed, "But I think she's fine. It was just exhaustion."
"What if it wasn't just exhaustion, though?"
"Such a worried mother," France giggled, "She'll be alright. I promise. We'll just find someone who has dealt with little ones before. Without something catastrophic happening."
"That rules out mostly everyone we know," Britain sighed, "Right. Looks like we're staying here then."
"Listen to me, Arthur Kirkland," France demanded, getting in Britain's face, "I am not getting any younger and you promised me romance. If you do not come through for me, I can make our home life your own private hell."
"Relax, Francis," Britain cowered a little, "Let's all just calm down. I do give you romance."
"How do you figure?" France squeaked, "You haven't touched me in months!"
Should I be listening to their marital problems? Probably not. Am I still going to watch this soap opera go down? Oh, hell yeah. It's getting good.
"I know I've been distant lately," Britain apologized, "I've had a lot going on. I still want to be around you, Francis."
"Then, why don't you act like it?" France pouted, "I have needs. And one of those is someone who cares once in a while."
"You know…" Britain took France's hand. Aww. And he says they're not a thing, "I'm sure we can find someone to keep an eye on Terra for the weekend."
I mean…Terra can watch herself. But whatever helps Britain sleep at night. Although I'd love to spend more time with them, seeing France blow up like that gave me chills. Maybe the two of them needed some time to themselves.
"I do have one other person in mind," France settled down, "He's taken care of little ones before. I'm sure he'd take care of Terra, too. Without corrupting her."
"Who?" Britain wondered.
"Antonio would."
"Who's that?" I've been eavesdropping long enough, "And what would he do?"
"Well," France lit up, "Good morning, Terra. Come. Sit with us."
"What's going on?" I asked, sitting in France's lap.
"Tell me, sweetheart," he snaked an arm around me, "How would you like to meet an uncle you never knew you had?"
"I wouldn't mind," I rubbed my eyes, still not entirely awake yet, "Why?"
"Your father and I…"
"Still not a couple," Britain reiterated, lying through his teeth.
"…Are going to take a little holiday," France ignored him, "And we wouldn't want you to get lonely. So, we thought you could stay with him."
"It's merely a goodwill mission," Britain defended, "You just happen to be tagging along."
"She's not an idiot, Angleterre," France retaliated, "We all know what this trip is for."
"How long would you be gone?" I asked, laying my head in his shoulder.
"It'd only be for the weekend," Britain blushed a bit, "Some time in the country will do us both some good."
"That is…" France ran his fingers through my hair, "If it's alright with you, cheri. Can you handle us being gone for a little while?"
"Of course," I allowed. France and Britain have done so much for me. Who was I to deny them a break?
"I'm so glad you're a social creature, Terra," France hugged me tight, "You have to get that from me. It's not like you get it from Britain."
"I'm right here, you damn frog!" Britain snapped, "I can be social when I want to be. Sometimes, I just don't want to be. Is that so wrong?"
"Most of the time," France poked the bear. Probably not a good idea.
"Alright," I stopped them before it could escalate, "When can I meet my uncle?"
"Why don't we go get you ready to leave?" France tapped on my shoulder, "Then, we'll go see him, ok?"
"Ok," I got up from France's lap and took a banana off the table. My stomach was a little grumbly. And I wasn't quite sure what getting me ready was going to entail. It could be as simple as me getting dressed. It could end me with me looking like I'm ready to hit a runway. With France, there was no happy medium.
He loved putting me in dresses. I didn't understand it, but France loved putting me in light colored dresses that float away from my body when I twirled around. Honestly, that was the fun part. However, there was one part I'd rather forget. France and I sat on the cold ceramic tile right as I got out of my bath.
"I know you don't like this part, Terra," France ran a popsicle stick down my shin, spreading a thin layer of a thick, sticky gel, "But it's a necessary evil. You can handle it, though, can't you?"
"Do I have to?" I braced myself as the paper strip went down.
"You get your social skills from me," he cringed, knowing what was happening next, "But this? It's all Britain's fault. When we're done with your legs, we'll do your eyebrows, too. I'll be damned if I allow yours to develop a mind of their own like his."
"They never get like that, though," I assured, a stinging sensation running down my leg. Not nearly as bad as I thought it'd be. I must be getting a tolerance, "And they're fine the way they are now."
"Precautionary measures," France pointed out, blowing on my bare skin, "Are you alright? Could you handle another one?"
"Yeah," I gritted my teeth, "Hit me."
As France continued the minor inconvenience of waxing my legs, I managed to get in a few good deep breaths, helping to alleviate some of the pain. I didn't understand why we had to do it in the first place, but I guess it's all part of the process. Not that I really mind. I have really soft skin. And by the time I was completely done…I looked more and more like France. It's strange. We could almost be twins. Maybe the more time we spend together, the more we start to look alike.
"Mon dieu, Terra," France spun me around, "You really are quite a cute little thing."
"Merci, Papa," I blushed, "Est-ce que tu le penses vraiment?"
"Since when do you speak my language?" he gasped.
"We have been around each other for a while now," I shrugged, keeping the real reasons to myself, "It's only natural that I pick something up."
"I'm impressed," France approved, "You should hear Britain try to speak French. Dreadful."
"At least he cares enough to make the effort," I pointed out, "You can't fault him for that."
"No," he sighed out, staring at his feet, "I guess I can't…"
"Papa…?" I worried, "Is everything ok?"
France picked my chin up, putting a fake smile on his face, "Everything's fine, mon chéri. You don't need to worry about me. Allons. Let's go see Uncle Spain, oui?"
"Ok." I knew he was lying. Maybe Britain wasn't the only one at fault for the problems between he and France. But that was between them. I'm not getting in the middle of things. But…That is kind of why I'm here. Let them come to me, I guess.
France and I packed an overnight bag for me and the two of us headed to my new uncle's house. I wasn't sure where we were going or what my uncle would be like, but I'm sure if both France and Britain can agree on him watching me while they're gone, he can't be too bad. We walked up to a house with a very ornate front door. This must be the place.
"Hola, France." Oh, hello…He's kind of pretty, "Que pasa?"
"I need a favor," France nudged me forward, "This is Terra. She's recently come to stay with Britain and me, but we're going to spend some time in the country for the weekend and need someone to keep an eye on her. So, guard her with your life. Bye!"
"Wait, Papa!" I tried to stop him, but he was already into the horizon line.
"Ok…" he looked me over, "Hola, Terra."
"Hola, Tio España," I smiled, "Es un placer conocerte."
"Usted habla Español?" Spain gave me a strange look.
"Un poco, si," I nodded.
"Estoy impresionado," he applauded, "I figured that if you were with France, you'd speak French."
"That's a little presumptuous," I pointed out, "I speak many languages. Even some of the dead ones."
"What the hell are you doing around France and Britain?" Spain jabbed, "If you're so smart, you should be seeing the world."
"I've seen the world," I hid a smile, "And I'm glad that I am where I am."
"What are you doing here again?" he invited me in, "Not that I'm kicking you out or anything."
"Papa France and Britain are going out of town," I explained, "And I don't think Britain trusts me in his house by myself, so Papa brought me here."
"Why don't you just go home?" Spain wondered, bringing me into his kitchen.
"I…" That wasn't a punch to the gut I needed today, "I don't…"
"Oh," the sudden realization struck him, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean anything bad by that."
"No worries," I forgave him, forcing a smile on my face, "Because that's what I have Papa and Britain for. And my big brothers, too."
"You're more than welcome to stay here, cariña," Spain wrapped his arms around me, "I hope you don't mind a roommate."
"No," I shook my head, burying my face in his chest, "Not at all."
"Bueno," he smiled, "Romano! Ven aca!"
"What do you want?!" an angry voice snapped as his stomping feet thundered down the hall, "I'm busy!"
"Oh, my!" I awed at the source of the anger. It's strange. He didn't look much like Spain, but I could eat him up, "Que lindo!"
"I know she's not talking about me," he growled, "I'm not cute! Who did you let into our house?"
"This is Terra," Spain introduced me, "She's going to be staying with us while France and Britain are off doing dios sabe que for the weekend. Terra, this is Romano."
"As long as she stays in her room and out of my hair," Romano snarled, "I'm sure things will be fine."
And there he goes. Romano stormed off. Did…Did I do something? I'm pretty sure I didn't do anything. All I said was that he was cute. Spain let out a heavy sigh and shook his head, "Romano's one to get used to. Excuse him. He's not exactly a social butterfly."
"It's ok," I allowed. In a way, he kind of reminded me of Britain. Just a little louder.
"Well," Spain sat me down, "Bienvenido, princesa. Make yourself at home, ok? And again, don't worry about Romano. Just give him some time to settle down."
"Muchas gracias, Tio." I think I may like it here. Once I get Romano to come around.
A/N: And so, we have the introduction of a cranky little Italian and a precious Spaniard. I have a huge soft spot in my heart for Spain. I feel like he gives really good hugs. I don't know why, but he's just…I love him. I love him like I love France. Also, I really love the fact that France went through the other members of the BTT in search of a sitter. And Britain's mistrust of Prussia. I'm sure he'd be fine. But it's too early in the story for Prussia. Prussia's going to bust in the story like the Kool-Aid man. You know it. I know it. It's just the way Prussia is. So, I ask you this question…
Which country do you just want to scoop up and cuddle wuddle until they can't see straight? Maybe seeing straight is a bad analogy to use with Hetalia, but you get what I mean. Because I have that feeling with a few. Italy, because he's just so cute and squishy. Romano, because he always seems like he needs a hug. France, because I feel like he'd make me be the little spoon and I'm here for it. Canada, because he deserves all the love in the world. And controversial, but Russia, because he really is a big sweetie and people need to start seeing that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm hungry and I'm going to get some food. See you next chapter! xx