Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

A/n1: Do not fret, dear readers – this chapter, I'll reveal the names of the kids (for those of you who read the final chapter of Bottoms Up – you should know the names already)! Ohhhhhh! 8DDDDDD

A/n2: This… is a very strange chapter. Lots of rambling, lots of weirdness and lots of gentle pokes at NethLiech. I'm so very sorry for pushing this pairing down your throat like this. Please don't lynch me! *hides underneath a truck*

A/n3: Well, guess what - I did it! I got my driver's license! 8DDDDDDDD Yesterday morning, I had my second driving test. And this time, everything went pretty much perfect! So I got it! Yaaaaaaaay! I'm allowed to drive now! Okay, not yet, I guess I still need to wait until all the paperwork is done, but still! I'm so proud!^^ I just can't stop smiling!

~~ And Three Makes Five ~~

Chapter 19:

My unhealthy affection for my second daughter has waned. Now I despise all of my seven children equally.
Evelyn Waugh
(English writer, journalist and reviewer)

'I have thought about some names already, yes.' I blushed, forgot about the green, burning stare from the kid and didn't know where to look at. 'You told me about them, though.'

'Huh? When? Where?' Antonio stammered.

'I-I had this… this dream, a couple of months ago. In that dream, we… we had kids.'

'Three kids?'

'Yes.'

'A girl and two boys?'

'Exactly.'

'That's a scary coincidence.'

'Tell me about it. I expect so many fucked-up nightmares, you wouldn't believe.'

'And in that dream… I told you the names of the kids?' Antonio sounded interested and gripped my hand firmer.

I took that as a good sign and finally looked at him, nodding. 'Y-yes, and I thought those were pretty nice names. Not too complicated… just nice and easy.'

'You're making me curious!~' He smiled broadly and nuzzled the side of my face affectionately. 'Mind telling me what the names were?'

I swallowed a big and sticky, lump kind of thing (I didn't know Antonio was actually going to like the names, after all) and started pressing the tops of my fingers together, fiddling and fidgeting away.

'For starters, you… t-the girl… you called the girl Luisa.'

'Luisa…' Antonio slowly said, smiling. 'Luisa. That's a Spanish name, isn't it?'

'I-I guess so…' I kept an eye on his face as I continued. 'I mean, I think that name is kind of lewd, and that's perfect for her.'

'Lewd? Perfect?'

'Yeah.' I tried to explain myself. 'It's kind of a name only bitches get in high school books and stuff, you know? Like… um, Dura is the normal and sweet girl, but ohhhhh, she wears glasses and therefore nobody thinks she's pretty, and then there's that horrible girl named Luisa that has the looks and gets all the cool friends without even trying.'

'Ohhhhhh,' Antonio copied the ohhhhhh-part of my explanation, 'I get it, I get it! Okay, that's pretty cool, giving our daughter such a name. It's like taunting destiny or something!~'

'Right?' I said, almost as enthusiastic as he was. 'Imagine how pissed destiny will be if Luisa turns out to be a good girl! Like our little girl! It'd be shocking! We'd disturb the universe!'

'That's awesome! I've always wanted to disturb the universe!'

'So…' I gave him a hopeful look, 'so we'll call the girl Luisa? You agree with that?'

Antonio laughed. 'Sweetie, you had already convinced me when I realized it was a Spanish name.'

'Good!' I felt my face was getting a bit warmer, just because I was this excited already. 'As for the boys, well… you told me their names were… um… the dumb kid's name would be Matteo, and the creepy kid's name would be Alejo.'

'Ohh!' Antonio clapped his hand together. 'Those names sound kind of Spanish as well!~'

'Well, Matteo can be Italian, too.' I huffed, suddenly realizing he was right. 'It depends on how you write the name – with one t or two t's. With two t's, it's actually an Italian name.'

'And how would you like to write the name?' Antonio ask, the tone of his voice teasing.

I folded my arms. '…with two t's, dammit, or else there's not a trace of Italian left in the name.'

'I like it!' Antonio poked my arm softly. 'The names, I mean. I like them a lot. But do you like them? Aside from Matteo, Luisa and Alejo are pretty Spanish… can you live with that?'

'W-w-well, y-yes…' I stuttered, feeling disgustingly shy all of a sudden, '…I-I really like this… this giddy feeling I get when you say their names… I like that Spanish… S-Spanish sound you make when you pronounce their names… and I just like the names a lot, too, so… besides, we have three kids, so that's kind of difficult to divide – we have to go with either one Spanish and two Italian names or one Italian and two Spanish names anyway.'

'You're right.'

'And, technically,' I continued, now abruptly losing the stutter, 'I made up the names. Sort of. So Spanish or not, Italy – the better, Southern part of it, of course – still had more than enough input in the names. So it's okay.'

Antonio chuckled and squeezed my side. 'You sure know how to amuse yourselves with your complicated little theories and explanations, don't you?~'

'You call them amusing – I call them exhausting.' I groaned, sitting back.

For a minute or two, we didn't say anything at all. I guess we were just savoring the wonderful feeling that finally having named the kids brought to us, and we were, quite shamelessly, listening to the soft conversation the Netherlands and Liechtenstein were having in front of us.

Netherlands: 'So. Um. Elise.'

Liechtenstein (startled): 'Y-yes, mister Netherlands?'

Netherlands: 'You… um. Be honest with me. Do you dislike me, calling you by your human name?'

Liechtenstein (turning her head): 'Hmm?'

Netherlands (startled): 'No, um, it's just… Um. If you do, you should tell me. I mean, I… um. I don't mind calling you by your nation's name. But. Um. I… well. I rather call you… Elise. Is… that okay with you, I was wondering.'

Liechtenstein: 'You always wonder about those kind of things out loud?'

Netherlands (musing): 'Yes.'

Liechtenstein: 'Yes, I figured.'

Netherlands: 'So… well, do you mind?'

Liechtenstein: 'You calling me Elise, you mean?'

Netherlands: 'Yes.'

Liechtenstein: 'I think I'd have let you know already if I didn't like it, mister Netherlands.'

Netherlands: 'Oh.'

Silence.

Netherlands: 'So it's okay?'

Liechtenstein: 'It's okay, mister Netherlands.'

Netherlands: 'That makes me happy.'

Liechtenstein (laughing softly): 'That's good.'

Netherlands: 'Maybe I'll ask you if it's okay to actually look at you when I'm speaking to you next time.'

Liechtenstein: 'How bold, mister Netherlands. But… b-but that's okay. I'll wait.'

…

…

It was weird, but the two countries in front of me seemed to be surprisingly content with this whole situation, weren't they?

'I wonder what has happened between them,' I heard myself muse all of a sudden.

'Hmmm?' Antonio, who had got fed-up with listening to the cute conversation between Netherlands and Liechtenstein and was now staring out of the window, looked up and smiled at me.

'Netherlands and Liechtenstein,' I hissed as quietly as I could. 'There's definitely something cute going on between them, even though they're not an official couple (yet). It's not like they were put together just for the fucking hell of it – they probably already had some click or… something going on long before England did his magic shit…'

'Ah, well, I wouldn't know and I don't care either,' Antonio bluntly said, shrugging. 'Is it such a big deal, Lovi?'

'It IS!' I stubbornly raised my face and chin. 'For your information, Antonio, I'm still thinking something's fucked up about England's explanation about how and why we all have kids. It's just not natural. So I will find out what's exactly going on here, even if it's the last thing I'll do, dammit! For Pete's sake, I don't understand why you're so calm about all this!'

He chuckled, endeared, and softly stroke the back of his hand over my cheek.

'Sweetie, I'm sure I've said this to you before, but you think too much. Maybe you should take it easy and just… go with the flow for a little while. You know? Just let everything happen as it will happen, and we'll see what and where it will bring us.'

'That's how you handle problems?'

'That's how I handle everything!~'

'Dweeb. You're so goddamn carefree, it's almost insulting,' I snorted, folding my arms in protest – but I didn't try to stop him when he softly pressed his hand to the side of my face and gave me some sweet, yet firm kisses on the lips.

I tensed up a little bit and automatically, no, instinctively squeezed my arms in delight, and oh, how much I wanted to answer his kisses, but then a small voice said…

'Why're you doin' that?'

Surprisingly enough, I felt bolt and confident for a change – and without bothering to stop sucking Antonio's face, I took a menacing, daring look around me, like some arrogant gay couples always do whenever there are disturbed during their sacred make-out sessions, and my glare was met with a light green, innocent gaze.

…

Oh.

That kid.

It was watching us.

Yes, it was totally watching us NOW WHY DO KIDS FIND IT NESSESARY TO WATCH ME AND ANTONIO MAKE OUT, GODDAMMIT!

'GYAAAH!' I yelled, almost tearing Antonio's lower lip off with my teeth as I pulled back and pointed a finger at the brat, like that would stop him from spying on us.

'YOU! YOU SHOULDN'T WATCH THIS!'

'Oh, don't worry, Romano, I'm completely fine with him, watching you two faggots go for it like a couple of eager, frustrated teenagers with hopping hormones and stiff things in their pants.'

The Netherlands was now looking at us as well, leaning one arm on the back of his seat and he patted his son with his free hand.

'You're completely fine with it? Why should it matter that you're fine with it!' I pretty much spat the words. 'I'm not fine with it! Make that little runt look away or… or something!'

Netherlands frowned. 'Did Bas say you're disgusting?'

'Wha… um, no?' I confusedly answered.

'Did he say you should stop?'

'…no, but—'

'Did he gave you the feeling he hated what he saw, or leave a hint that what you're doing isn't normal?'

'…for Christ's sake, Netherlands, it's a kid – not a religious, right-wing nutjob.'

'Exactly.' The Dutchman nodded. 'So you should just leave him be. Watching two men make out will perhaps cause him to ask more questions on how and why you would do that, but it'll increase the acceptation of your people.'

…

…my "people"?

Since when were all the homosexuals in the world a new kind of species, dammit!

'He's got a point, you know?' Antonio then suddenly said. 'It's just like kissing in front of our kids – you shouldn't hide that, you should just do it and answer the questions that might come because of it. There's nothing wrong with that!~'

'Of course, having Super Excellent Xylophones right in from of them is out of the question. That's pushing it a bit too far,' the Netherlands said.

'Super Excellent… what?'

'S-E-X.'

'Se… ohhh.'

'It's a codename. Because we can't freely talk about having sex with Bas around and everything.'

'What's a sex, papa?'

'…well shit.'

Netherlands would look troubled if he was normal, but he wasn't so he didn't.

In the meantime, while the Dutchman was having an internal moralistic struggle with himself (telling the kid about what sex was would be a bit awkward, especially at the kid's age, but the kid does have the right to ask questions and receive answers on them as well), I quickly increased the distance between Antonio and myself a bit more.

'Aww, Lovi!' Antonio made a face. 'I just explained it's okay to kiss in front of ki—'

'It doesn't make it any less embarrassing for me, y-you idiot!' I interrupted him, my cheeks turning redder than a dying sun – yes, a dying sun turns red, just a little funfact for you from me because I'm so motherfucking smart and kind.

And red, mostly. But let's not dwell on that.

\0o0/

Eventually, the bus stopped at a station located in a small, but busy little town, not too far away from Madrid. There, we got off the bus, and there, we decided what we were going to do for the rest of the afternoon.

Oh, and on a side note: the weather had gotten insanely hot all of a sudden and the pigeons where dropping off the roofs from the scary hotness that was the hopefully not-dying sun.

'Okay,' Antonio stretched himself and smiled, 'we've left the bus. Yay! Now what? What's next?'

'It's fairly easy,' the Netherlands said, putting on his sunglasses and pausing like he was that blond dude from CSI or ICS Or whatever the stupid series' name was, 'you and that lanky Italian are going to look for some kid-shop-shit, and then you'll buy that kid-shop-shit, while Elise, Bas and I go look up a nice little lunchroom and have a drink, mocking you behind your backs.'

'Ohhhh?' Antonio pouted in protest, wiping his already sweaty forehead while staring at the (still folded) map Liechtenstein had given him.

'What, so you're not going to join us in our holy quest?' I half-sarcastically huffed, frowning. 'And here I was, thinking you were a stupid specialist! But you're just going to chill and drink stuff with lots and lots and lots of ice cubes in it! And you're going to make Liechtenstein pay for it, too!'

'Do you have a problem with that?' Netherlands asked. In the background, Liechtenstein gave him a startled look and blinked her eyes rapidly.

I snorted. 'Yes, I do have a problem with that.'

'Oh. Well, thankfully, I don't have a problem with it at all.' Netherlands shrugged and wanted to walk away, all bastardly like the bastard he was, but I didn't take that shit and grabbed the hem of his shirt (ewwww, sweaty and gross).

'You were supposed to help us, you cheap, miserable, tulip-eating tightwad! Now help us, before I'll kick your dirty ass all the way back to your barely-floating country!'

I gritted my teeth and clenched my hands around his shirt some more, even though I really, really didn't like that feeling that I was feeling on my hands right now.

'Lovi's right, Netherlands!' Antonio (finally) decided to help. 'If you're such a great specialist when it's about kids, then you better come with us and help us out!'

'Mr. Spain and Mr. Romano are right, Mr. Netherlands,' Liechtenstein also decided to mind the Dutch freak's business. 'You can't expect them to buy all the right things when we're just going to sit back and relax here. Besides, didn't you promise doctor Tosca you'd help them out?'

The Netherlands was surprised. He could have easily brushed me and Antonio off like we were some annoying spiders crawling up his arms, but Liechtenstein wasn't an annoying spider – she was his princessy spider. Or at least something like that.

So he grunted and gave me and Antonio a very Matrix-like glare (you know, because he was still wearing those stupid sunglasses and stood in the middle of the road like some sort of douchery dickman) before he spoke up.

'Elise.'

Liechtenstein, who apparently still hadn't gotten used to the Dutchman calling her by her human name, jumped a bit. 'Y-yes?'

'Let's make a deal.' The Dutchman glanced a look over his sunglasses at her.

Antonio and I exchanged worried looks. Dealing around with the Netherlands sounded about as responsible and tossing the demon children and Netherstein's monster into a cage filled with disgruntled crocodiles that had been living on vegetarian cupcakes for over a month.

So we wanted to silently warn Liechtenstein about the lugubrious, eerie and downright uncanny ways of the Dutchman, and indeed, didn't I use some pretty words to describe that something-something I described, but Liechtenstein probably was more than aware of that something-something, since she frowned.

And no, I'm not sure what something-something stands for anymore, either.

…

But it had something to do with the Netherlands, so no doubt it was foul! Foul, I tell you!

'What kind of deal are you thinking of, Mr. Netherlands?' Liechtenstein then calmly asked the Dutch creep.

Said Dutch creep exhaled slowly, as if he had been gathering his courage to say what he was about to say.

'We'll join the Latino Losersquad – but only if you'll call me by my name.'

Liechtenstein's eyes grew twice their size. 'E-excuse me?'

'Just once,' he quickly added, all of a sudden not looking that cool at all anymore. 'Just once, Elise. For… um. For me.'

'Für Elise,' Antonio blurted out.

I stared at him. So did Liechtenstein and Netherlands.

'Oh.' Antonio blushed furiously and rubbed the back of his head. 'Sorry. I… now where did that come from?'

'Your mouth, Antonio.' I snorted and flicked his nose. 'Moron.'

'Anyway,' the Dutchman continued, giving Antonio a weary side-glance, 'would you please call me by my human name, Elise? Once. Just once.'

Liechtenstein's cheeks became a bit rosy. 'I-I suppose I could do that, if it will make you help Mr. Spain and Mr. Romano… but why does it mean so much for you?'

'I love you.'

Netherlands looked away from all three of us and thoughtlessly watched his son hobble around us instead.

'That's why.'

…

Meanwhile, awkwardness struck with all her might, making me and Antonio feel like we were in a slapstick romantic comedy and totally out of place while Liechtenstein still stared at the Netherlands like he had just confessed to her, which was exactly what he had done.

'A-alright…' Liechtenstein eventually muttered and fiddled around with one of her tiny girly gloves, her face redder and more embarrassed than ever. 'I-I understand. I… o-o-oh my. I mean… Eh…'

Antonio sneaked his arms around my waist and rubbing his face against my head, sighting, endeared.

'Aww…'

'Aww my ass!' I grumbled and pushed him away. 'Snap out of it, Antonio! We don't have time for this weirdo gushy shit, we need to buy toys and other kid stuff before it's too late, dammit!'

Antonio wanted to laugh it off. 'Don't be so silly, Lovi! I'm sure the shops won't close for at least… um… what was it again… well, anyway, it certainly will take a while before they close up!'

'I'm not talking about the damn shops, I'm talking about… about…' I lowered my voice and pursed my lips embarrassedly, '…t-the kids, dammit, we need to be back home when doctor Tosca and her freak show of assistants are done executing creepy tests on them!'

'Ah, yes, you have a point…' Antonio nodded.

'Besides… besides,' I continued, 'we have to buy them gifts, too.'

'Isn't that exactly what we're about to do?'

'No, we're about to buy them toys and plushy dolls and stuff. And shit to dump in our back garden, like a swing and a slide and a… um, climbing frame. And we need to buy them coloring books, and furniture that's made especially for kids – NO, not a goddamn lava pit, leave that damn lava pit – and that's a whole other thing than buying them gifts!'

Antonio cocked his head to one side. 'I don't get it.'

'Well I do. But that's no wonder. I'm much richer than you,' the Netherlands decided to butt in, finally having finished his lovely chat with Liechtenstein.

Antonio glared at him. 'What has being richer than me to do with understanding what Lovino says!'

'How should I know? It's just a nice funfact. I like to rub it in your face as much as I can. So have at you, cur.'

'LOOK,' I said in a loud voice, before Antonio could nag at the Dutchman again, 'I'm just saying that making our House kid-friendly doesn't automatically mean we can't buy them each one of them a special gift. You know? A special, personal gift, just for one kid? Because now, we're only buying them crap that they all like. You understand?'

Netherlands and Antonio both stopped huffing at each other to look at me.

'Ahhhhh,' Antonio slowly said.

Netherlands folded his arms. ' "Ahhhhh" is Spanish for "I still don't get it because I'm a clueless old man with a birdbrain". But don't worry, Romano. I understood everything. Hell, I understand the universe.'

'Wha—HEY!'

…aaaaaaand they started going at it again. Now with improved hand gestures and teeth-gritting!

…

This was so tiresome and annoying, I really felt like ditching everyone and go back home. And maybe get a pizza on my way home, too, since I hadn't eaten one of those cheese pizza's in a long time.

But then Liechtenstein, who also had been troubled by the stupid nagging as well, tapped me on my shoulder.

'Mr. Romano, we're losing time. I want to be back home in time, because Bas still needs to do his nap. If I make Mr. Netherlands and Mr. Spain stop their yelling, can we please get going already?'

'You think I don't want to get going already?' I said, frowning. 'Also, what do you want to do to make them stop? Jump in between them? Call your brother? Cry?'

She smiled and shook her head. 'You'll see, Mr. Romano.'

And with those words, she walked over to the two snarling idiots.

Me and Bas – that kid had the patience of a saint, by the way, I can't believe he wasn't screaming for attention yet – stayed behind and watched her go. We also watched her rolling up her sleeves.

…

…

Whoa, major déjà-vu here. Was she going to do what I think she was going to do?