Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

A/n1: Unicef, an organization that works hard to make this world a better place for children, has said that the happiest children in the world are living in the Netherlands. Hence why the Netherlands is considered a specialist in doctor Tosca's eyes.
Not to be confused with the happiest (grown-up) people, though – they live in Denmark, according to another research.
Also, the educational level of the Scandinavian nations is the best in the world. You want the best for your kids? You want to study and be able to pay it, too? Go to Finland, Norway, Sweden or Denmark. Seriously – you won't regret it.

A/n2: Because I wanted to know the Spanish word for peach, I did some very bad research to what Spanish people call peaches. I think I found it: duraznero.
If it's correct: huzzah! If it isn't correct: sorry…
(not sure I'll correct it because of reasons in this chapter, but still, feel free to correct me if you do know the right word)

A/n3: I'm so very mean with my cliffhangers, aren't I? Ahahahaha… *flees in a cloud of pink dust*

~~ And Three Makes Five ~~

Chapter 18:

The small hopes and plans and pleasures of children should be tenderly respected by grown-up people, and never rudely thwarted or ridiculed.
Louisa May Alcott
(American novelist)

The Netherlands, Liechtenstein and their shared kid stood in the dooropening for a while, patiently waiting for me and Antonio to regain our senses again.

Liechtenstein looked rather uncomfortable – and so would I, if I was standing next to such a huge man – but she smiled nevertheless, her hands neatly folded on top of her light-green dress.

The boy – I believe his name was Bas or something, Netherlands had told me that the last time I had seen him – was standing in-between his very unlikely parents, holding on to his mother's dress and batting his huge, emerald eyes at both me and Antonio.

And the Netherlands…

For some reason, he must have thought this was the perfect time to put a pipe in his mouth and smoke away, all while staring at us – but especially at Antonio – without blinking his eyes.

…

And then I couldn't take it anymore.

'You are the specialist?' I exclaimed, my voice very high and shrill.

'That's what I said.' He nodded. 'I'm a specialist.'

'So you know all about kids? Everything?' I continued – while scowling and pursing my lips together in an awkward way.

'Did you hear me say that?' Netherlands asked.

Antonio frowned. 'Well, no, but—'

'I wasn't talking to you, you dirty paella-muncher.' Netherlands frowned and looked at Liechtenstein. 'Did you hear me say those exact words, Elise? About me, knowing everything about children?'

'N-no,' she said, shuffling a bit further away from him.

'I'm sorry,' the Netherlands instantly said. 'I made you scared. I should warn you, the next time I suddenly… um… look at you. While talking. Forgive me. It can be a pretty intense experience, I know.'

The girl kept her distance, but looked at him the minute he stopped looking at her and smiled – it was the smallest of smiles, but it still was a smile.

'It... it's not that bad, mister Netherlands.'

'Still not calling me Daan, are you?'

'No, mister Netherlands.' She smiled some more.

'Well, that's okay. I can wait.' The Netherlands then concentrated his attention back on me and Antonio again and loudly cleared his throat. 'Anyway, your doc told my doc that I should have a talk with you about the importance of a kid's happiness. And then my doctor – doctor Van den Broek, if you wish to know – told me, and then I told Elise, and then we decided to come and visit your place since we didn't have anything better to do anyway.'

'What are you planning to do here, then?' I wanted to know and purposely blocked the entrance, because I really wasn't feeling like letting some weird Dutchman, a shy girl from Liechtenstein and their whiny little kid inside the House.

I mean, I hadn't vacuumed the place yet and I just knew for sure Netherlands was going to make some asshole-comment about those three crumbles of bread lying around. Plus, Antonio wouldn't get a second of rest when he saw his former colony and the weird little family he had with him stomping around his House – the only safe haven he had.

'I'll tell you what I had planned to do.' The Dutchman paused and awfully slowly blew out a small cloud of smoke – and, of course, straight into Antonio's face, who's eyes got a bit teary thanks to the biting shit.

…

What the hell was that man even smoking, dammit – solid benzene?

The Netherlands stoically watched Antonio cough and wave the black smoke away, secretly cackling in pure delight, no doubt, before he finally continued.

'Yes, I will tell you what I had planned to do. But. Well. I kind of forgot. So I can't.'

'What?' I hissed, pulling Antonio out of the smoke and why the hell did I have to do that, didn't that man know how to step aside himself, dammit?

'Do not fret, maybe Elise still knows what I intended to do,' Netherlands reassured us, tilting his head to Liechtenstein. 'You're our last hope, Elise. No pressure.'

I had somewhat expected Liechtenstein to break down crying or something, since she was pretty small and weak-looking and all, but she just nodded at the Netherlands and, for the first time today, she looked straight at us.

'Mister Netherlands and I thought it would be a good idea to spend the afternoon with you and tell you all we know about the importance of nurture and children's health.'

'That's nice,' I said, 'but I actually wanted to go to the city with Antonio. To buy the kids some more kid-furniture. Don't give me that weirded-out look, you Dutch brickface, you know what I mean, dammit!'

Antonio smiled delighted at me. 'We could indeed go buy the kids some fun stuff now! What a great idea, Lovi!'

'It was my idea,' the Netherlands said.

'Wha-! You fucking liar! It wasn't yours at a—'

'Well,' Liechtenstein quickly interrupted me, 'if you're going to the city, mister Netherlands and I could like to come with you and help you get the right toys and other basic things that are specially made for children. If… if you don't mind us, that is.'

'I don't mind you,' I said and winked at her, because the shy, cute Liechtenstein would be the first girl I'd go after if I hadn't been a flaming homosexual and all, 'but I'm not so sure about those other persons.'

Liechtenstein looked a bit uneasy. 'W-well, but they need to come with us. After all, Bas is a child – that can come in handy – and mister Netherlands, well… he's the one that embodies the country where the happiest children live…'

'And I'm your husband, so you can't ditch me, either,' Antonio said, sounding kind of sour.

I looked at him and I couldn't help but chuckle. Antonio's jealous face was so endearing, it almost made me want to wink at Liechtenstein again.

But I didn't, because Netherlands looked pretty dangerous as well now. I mean, I never knew his eyes could turn red like that. And was that steam or smoke coming out of his ears? T-the hell, was he a fucking machine?

'S-so the happiest kids live in the Netherlands?' I quickly jumped to another subject, casually leaning against the doorpost.

It was a good decision of me, because Netherlands instantly lost the evil, glowing machinery-aura around him and nodded, almost looking proud.

'That's correct, the happiest kids in the world live in my country. So I should be perfectly able to tell you two fail-fathers what to do and what not to do with your kids. If you pay me, of course.'

'What?' Antonio eyed him angrily. 'No way that we're going to pay you for… for whatever you're planning to do!'

'Keep your pants on, Spain, I've got a very reasonable price in mind. Even a poor hobo like you should be able to pay me.'

Antonio scowled. 'Poor hobo, huh? You know what you can do with that "price" of yours?'

The Netherlands also squeezed his eyes almost shut. 'Grab a lamp and enlighten me, moron.'

'I don't… have a lamp with me.'

'Then go buy one – oh, wait, wait, that's true… you can't, because you're a penniless sucker.'

'I'm not a sucker!'

'Sure you are. Suckertastic sucker. Supersuckerrific suckertastic sucker. With no pennies.'

'Hey, cut it out!'

'Okay. That'll be thirty penni- I mean euros.'

'What the… NO!'

'No? Fine. Then I'll keep calling you silly names that still insult you in spite of their silliness until you will.'

'You wouldn't dare.'

'Want to bet?'

'Would you want to bet?'

'I'm too rich to bet, fish-breath.'

'You WATCH IT, fork-hair!'

'Ohh. Nobody mocks my hair and lives to tell. Come here, I'll rip your Spanish nose off and shove it up your—'

RIGHT, SO ANYWAY.

While Antonio and the Netherlands continued having one insane argument after another, I looked down, at the small boy between him and Liechtenstein. The kid was shy and constantly tried to hide himself from the creepy men me and Antonio were, but, I had to admit, he didn't look unhappy.

'Y-you're scary…' he mumbled softly to me, burying his face in Liechtenstein's dress.

'Oh yeah?' I snorted. 'Your father is way scarier, brat.'

'No, he isn't. Papa is nice. I like him!'

I noticed the kid had that same mean look as his dad – too bad it really wasn't that convincing when he was shaking like that, though.

I noticed something else about the kid as well. I stared at him for a while, thinking some… thoughts. Then I looked at Liechtenstein, who was watching Antonio and Netherlands (who were currently saying 'grrrrrrr!' and shaking their fists at each other like the over-aged, angry men they were).

'Liechtenstein,' I suddenly started – and she looked up, startled.

'Y-yes, mister South Italy?'

'Your kid. He… talks.'

'Bas talks, yes.' She smiled and waited, giving me a questioning look.

'No, I mean… he really talks. In sentences and all.' I rubbed the back of my neck. 'Our kids only seem to talk in… well, words.'

'Really? That's strange.' Liechtenstein wrinkled her nose when she thought about it. 'And you and mister Spain have been talking with them just normally, right?'

…

For some reason, I felt I should watch what I said, now.

'What do you mean, talking to them normally?' I asked her as breezily as I could.

Liechtenstein still had her doubts, though, and frowned.

'Mister Romano, you are having normal conversations with them, aren't you? Because there's a difference between talking to children and talking with children. Surely they'll eventually pick up some words and start forming sentences anyway, but if you want them to speak with you normally faster… you should try to have actual, full-fledged conversations with them. At least, that's… that's what mister Netherlands told me.'

She smiled a bit and looked away.

'Ohh,' I said, nodding slowly.

I kind of understood what she tried to tell me. While Antonio and I had been talking to the kids a lot, we hadn't ever really had a real dialogue with them or something. They just answered our questions as good as they could, but they didn't need to make entire sentences for that.

I mean… we never asked them what they liked to do, or what they liked to eat, or how they felt… only when we were starting to worry a bit, we asked them something.

…

Dammit, now I feel bad. Way to go, Liechtenstein, you cute bitch with your evil purple ribbon.

'The kids are being examined right now,' I blurted out, all of a sudden, 'and I kind of want to be finished shopping and stuff by the time doctor Tosca's finished with testing them.'

She now looked at me, still wearing that smile. 'Yes? Why is that?'

'I don't really know. I just want to be there when they're finished. I don't want them to feel alone.' I put my hands in my pockets and stared at the ground.

I heard her laugh softly. 'You're a lot more parental than I thought, mister Romano.'

And you're a lot more mature than I thought, for a teenage-personification, I wanted to say – but I didn't say anything and kept on observing the ground, since it was so fucking interesting and shit.

'Bas was tested yesterday,' Liechtenstein said. 'We got him back from mister Netherlands' doctor after two hours or so. Since you and mister Spain have three children, you'll probably get to see them again in… six hours.'

'Six hours? Fuck, that's pretty fucking… late!'

I growled and wanted to glare at the inflato-lab in the backyard, but that was kind of difficult to do when there was an entire House standing in the way, so in the end, I didn't.

'Dammit, the minute they'll get out of the lab-thing, we'll need to have dinner already.'

Liechtenstein chuckled and opened her mouth to say something, but then the Netherlands and Antonio suddenly cleared their throats – and they sounded annoyed.

'Loviiiii!' Antonio whined with a pouty face. 'Why didn't you try to stop me and this Dutch monster from nagging at each other? You used to stop and comfort me before, remember!'

I looked at him, noticed he wasn't hurt or anything, and smiled.

'I don't need to stop you, I know you two won't physically hurt each other anymore anyway. And I don't need to comfort you either, because you're not as easy to hurt as you used to be.'

Antonio's ears turned red. I saw he was ridiculously flattered – and that he was thinking hard of something he could say in response to me, but he just didn't know what words he should use.

'Perhaps you could say you and mister Spain are like… siblings, fighting and bickering constantly, but secretly liking and respecting each other,' Liechtenstein added, giving the huge Dutchman next to her a generous, warm smile.

Like Antonio, the Netherlands just instantly stared at her, at this bubbly, sweet, naïve little person with a disgusted "do you even hear what you're saying" -look on his face – but both of them clearly liked Liechtenstein too much to actually say it out loud, so they just swallowed her words and forced themselves to nod.

As a matter of fact, I also thought she was pushing it a bit too far (I mean, Netherlands and Antonio being nice to each other – that sounded just as fucked up as me and Germany going on a holiday together, dammit), but oh well.

'Well,' I then matter-of-factly said, pointing at the road in front of the House, 'how about we get a move on, hmm? We have got lots to do today, after all.'

Antonio finally seemed to snap out of it and nodded ferociously. 'Yes, and we need to get back here in time, too! I wouldn't want to see to kids' disappointed faces when they'd come out of the lab and notice we aren't back yet…'

'Precisely,' I said, feeling myself swell up in delight – because he thought the same thoughts as me, how fucking perfect, we completed each other so much I could cry but I wouldn't.

And then we actually decided to actually go already.

\0o0/

Twenty minutes later, me, Antonio, Liechtenstein, the Netherlands and that other kid (I'm so funny) sat on board of a very shaky, very old and very badly-maintained bus.

…

That's right, we decided to go to the city by bus. Because 'that's a lot cheaper than going by car, and besides, when we go by car we'll need to use yours, and I don't want to owe you or Spain any fuel or whatever, because you make the inside of my throat and wallet itch and burn', or so the Netherlands had said.

I snidely remarked that his persistent smoking also could be the cause of the throat itching, but he just glared at me and told me he still hadn't received those 11 euros from me yet.

'Hey, hey!' I said, alarmed. 'I thought I needed to pay you back 10 euros!'

He looked over his shoulder and smirked at me. 'Aha – so you admit you still need to pay me back?'

'Never.' I narrowed my eyes dramatically. 'And even if I would admit it, I still can't see why you'd add an extra euro, dammit!'

'I think I've given you enough warnings already. So now, I'll just keep on increasing your debt until you'll pay me back. Like the dentist does if you don't pay his bills. Maybe I should become a dentist.'

I decided to ignore that last bit and snorted. 'And what if I still won't pay you back?'

'I don't know.' The Netherlands thought about it, I noticed. 'I guess I'll keep on picking on Spain for being a poor, workless, stupid idiot. Because in the end, everything's his fault, after all.'

I just whacked the palm of my hand into my face in a needlessly painful fashion, groaning.

Meanwhile, Antonio felt gravely offended and flicked the back of the Netherlands' head.

'Hey! I'm sitting right here, you jerk! I can hear everything!'

'Well, that's nothing to feel proud about. I don't have bad ears either, and you don't hear me bragging about it.'

'But—'

'Did you get that joke? Hear me bragging about my hearing.'

Antonio never had a facial expression that was blanker than the one he had now.

'Well,' the Dutchman said, 'I thought it was hilarious.'

And with that, the Netherlands ended the conversation, if it even was a conversation.

I looked at Antonio and noticed his eyes staring at his former colony all angrily and stuff, but before he could do or say anything stupid, I put a hand over his hand and pushed my fingers in-between his.

'Just leave it, Antonio. Instead of bickering with the Netherlands all the way to the city, how about talking with me?'

Yes, I said that. Didn't I sound mature? God, did I sound mature. I could easily pass for a grown-up man that had a safety-kidseat on the back of his bicycle and grow a dad-mustache, just to prove my point.

But I wouldn't.

'Okay Lovi.' Antonio, who naturally thought I was a lot more interesting than that Dutch bastard sitting in front of us, gave me a friendly, curious look. 'What do you want to talk about, then?'

…

By the way, just in case you were wondering how we were seated in the bus: Antonio and I sat next to each other (and Antonio sat near the window, because he told me he was like a plant, he needed sunlight and shit – no, wait, not the shit), and the Netherlands and Liechtenstein sat in the seats in front of us. Bas, the Dutch/Liechtenstein's genetic miracle boy, sat on the Dutchman's lap and had pressed his round face against the window.

…

Just so you know.

Anyway, I cleared my throat loudly when Antonio had given me his full attention and looked down at our connected hands, with the wedding rings ching! –ing and everything, and I felt myself getting flustered and unsure.

'Um… I… I-I was thinking about this earlier, but I'd like to hear your opinion about it as well… since you're also their father and all… just what… um… how should we name the kids?'

Antonio made a deep, thoughtful 'hmmmm' -kind of noise and when I looked at him again, I saw he had think-wrinkles in his forehead and was biting his lower lip.

'I actually might have some good names, Lovi.'

'Y-you have?' I said, surprised, and stopped thinking about that one dream I had half a year ago, in which Antonio and I also had kids, also a girl and two boys.

'Yes,' Antonio said and looked me straight in the eyes, his burning and looking frightfully determined, and by frightfully determined I meant that I was getting a bit horny by looking at him all fired up like that.

But let's not talk about that.

'O-okay,' I said, nodding and folding one of my legs over the other one to kill off that annoying erection I was beginning to get, 'what kind of names do you have in mind, then? Are they original?'

'Yes.'

'Cool?'

'I'd like to think so, yes!'

'Easy to remember?'

'Piece of cake, sweetie!'

'Well, tell me! What have you thought of?'

Antonio smirked at me and leaned towards me secretively.

'Mario and Luigi.'

…

…

'And we can call the girl Dura! From duraznero!'

…

…

Well, that surely shooed away my erection.

'…the Spanish word for peach, you mean?' I finally said, my voice dark and a bit raw.

'Yes!'

'Like… princess Peach, Antonio?'

'Yes!' Antonio was almost hopping up and down in his seat now out of pure, raw excitement.

I slowly raised my hands – yes, both of them, I didn't want to hold his hand anymore after hearing this, dammit – and started rubbing my eyebrows.

'You… you actually want to name our kids after videogame-characters?'

'Don't you think it's cool?' Antonio said, probably already feeling something wasn't quite right since I had let go of his hand but still sounding hopeful. 'I mean… they are Italian/Spanish names, and we could dress them up in red and green, and they'll be like mini-heroes! America will be horrified from the pure awesomeness of it all!~'

I sighed and made a very irritated noise, but remained calm. Getting mad wasn't going to get me anywhere, and I didn't want to have yet another stupid fight with Antonio – who, once again, meant well – so I made sure my voice sounded slick and patient when I spoke up again, like a very mature, safety-kidseat-owning, mustache-growing adult man.

'Okay – Antonio, you're a very nice and sweet man, and your idea is cute, but… I think our kids will be bullied to death if we name them Mario and Luigi. Not so sure about Dura, but I don't like that name either, it sounds like a lame brand-name for some sort of car factory. Besides, I think the girl is more like Bowser than Peach, anyway. Have you seen that face when she gets angry? She can burn down the House if she wants to!'

Antonio's eyes grew a bit. 'Y-you think they'll be bullied if we call them after Mario and Luigi?'

'Well, kind of?' I frowned. 'Come on, Antonio. Isn't it too easy to call them after already fictional characters? Don't you have any imagination?'

At that moment, the monster of Netherstein (get my joke, get it?) decided it was a good idea to gape at us like an annoying, blond little fish. I did my best to ignore him, though.

Antonio wasn't aware there was a small kid looking at us and laughed, softly and a bit fake-ish.

'Um, well, you see, Lovi… it's just that I'm afraid we'll give the kids long names, like your brother did. And I'm not really good with remembering and pronouncing long names… I mean, I still don't know for sure how to pronounce Ukraine's full human name…'

No one does, I wanted to say, but I didn't – I just shuffled a bit closer to him and took his hand again, squeezing it softly and if that damn Dutchman's kid didn't stop staring at us like that I was going to poke my nails into his eyes, dammit.

'Then let's give them short names. Nobody says we have to give them long names, and there's nothing wrong with short names – I think some of those are way cooler than long names.'

'You sound like you have thought about some names already.' Antonio smiled, but I noticed he didn't really like the idea of automatically agreeing with my suggestion, whatever that suggestion was. Especially not now I had shot down his names.

That's why it was a good thing he probably couldn't turn down my names, for reasons I was about to explain to him.