Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

A/n1: Robin Williams died last Monday. I heard about it when I woke up around 4 o'clock (I have sleeping problems; I wake up at the weirdest hours and can't fall asleep afterwards anymore most of the time) that day.
I was shocked, really. I have watched so many movies of him when I was a kid! Sure, Alladin was dubbed by Dutch people, so I didn't know him from that movie, but man, Mrs. Doubtfire, Flubber, Patch Adams... I've seen so many of his roles, and I can honestly tell you that I loved him.^^ He seemed so nice and real, you know?
But he apparently took his own life - in a pretty gruesome way, too - and that's just terrible. He will be missed so much, all over the world. I can only hope he has found rest now.

A/n2: I think that in about 50 to 100 years, nobody will be able to write again. Sure, they can type at high-speed, but can they actually still hold a pen and write actual words?
Seriously, think about it. In some schools, kids are already given tablets to learn how to read and write. They barely touch their pencils or crayons anymore, because ohh, we have a TABLET for that, so very modern and cool!~
Yeah, so I think we're a very lucky generation. We can still write! Better pat yourself on your back for that and don't forget to boast to your grandchildren one day how awesome you are for being able to write your name – by HAND! *high-fives self*

A/n3: The buildings in which the personifications have their meetings in this fic, are most of the time the Berlaymont building and the Charlemagne building, both located in Brussels. The next meeting will take place in another building, however.

Edit A/n4: Spanish and Latin-American readers have, very rightfully, mentioned that I made some very big mistakes during the entire last name dialogue between Mrs. Sanchez and Lovino. I'm very sorry for that (I could have avoided this mistake if I wasn't so lax and had done my research a whole lot better), and therefore, I've edited this chapter. Hopefully, it's better now! And once again, sorry for the dumb mistake. I feel a little bit ashamed, I must say.
Thanks for your tips and advice, Paula and AnelZac! Let me know, if you can, what you think of it now, okay?

~~ And Three Makes Five ~~

Chapter 63:

Before I got married, I had six theories about raising children.
Now I have six children and no theories.
John Wilmot
(English poet and courier)

Ding-dong! Ding-dong!

Diiiiiiiing-doooooooong! Diiiiiiiiing-doooooooong!

DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG DI—

'Hahaha, okay Lulu, that's enough – th-that's enough, really!' Antonio hastily stammered when Luisa kept on pushing the neighbor's doorbell – she was PUNCHING IT, for God's sake, punching it like it had offended her dress or those cute bows in her hair, and that was ridiculous, because I had personally made sure this morning that my cute daughter was looking just as beautiful as the grumpy princess she was.

In other words, the doorbell must have had it coming. Yep. Asshole-doorbell asked for it.

'Coming, coming!' the upbeat, cheerful voice of Mr. Sanchez could be heard behind the front door – and by the time Antonio had put Luisa down again, the front door was wildly swung wide open. Like tatatataaaah!

'Ha! Well well well, if it isn't the Fernandez-Vargas family!' Mr. Sanchez greeted our slightly uncomfortable grins and weak, kindly-meant hand gestures. 'Did we accidentally keep another one of your kids? Bwahahahahaha! Where do you guys get all these kids from in the first place – did your weird-haired partner poop them out or something, Mr. Fernandez? Bwaaaaaaa-hahahahahaha!'

'That would have been lovely,' I commented with a strained smile, cringing. Mr. Sanchez wasn't a bad guy, he really wasn't, but man, he sure put a lot of feet in his mouth.

'Hi Diego,' Antonio said and very wisely ignored the muffled chuckles of the twins (Mr. Sanchez looked like he had just worked out; his red shirt was soaked in sweat and his face was all shiny and stuff). 'Um… well, you may be wondering why we're here again, huh? And… this early in the morning, even! Ahahahaha…haha…'

Mr. Sanchez wiped his wet face with the towel hanging around his shoulders and gave Antonio a weird look. 'Early? Naaaah, it's not that early – it's past eleven already! It's practically noon! But you guys probably aren't aware of time when you're at it all the time, huh?'

'…what?' Antonio asked, even though I sent him urgent "DON'T ASK WHAT HE MEANS" –looks.

'Gay people!' Mr. Sanchez explained, successfully making Antonio shudder as well. 'You know, it seems like gay people always like to do it. No matter where they are, or what personalities they have, or ages they have – they always like to screw around. Literally! Bwahahahahahaha! How you still manage to take a seat or have a big dump is beyond me, really!'

'Why are you looking at me when you say that,' I slowly said, glaring right back at the big man's tiny, curious eyes.

'No reason!' Mr. Sanchez grinned and winked at Antonio way too obviously. 'Anyway, good morning, Mr. Fernandez and Partner and Offspring! How can I help you today?'

'Yes. Um. Hi, Diego. Again.' Antonio sighed, already exhausted. 'Alejo and Matteo seem to have lost their dog tags while they were staying over at your place. They kept complaining about it, so we were wondering if we could look for them.'

'Oh, really? Well—' Mr. Sanchez started.

'Or did we come at a bad time?' I instantly cut him off. 'I mean, if you rather have us come back when you're not… um… busy, you should just say so! It's no big deal!'

He laughed jovially. 'No no, that's alright! You are more than welcome to come and look for your kids' precious lost items! I'll tell Raquel and Blanca to help out as well! Come on in, please!'

He beckoned us and walked back to where he had came from… and Antonio, the kids and I, not knowing what to how or how to respond otherwise, obediently walked after him.

\0o0/

Just like that, we suddenly found ourselves nosing around in the Sanchez household.

It was a strange sensation, if you asked me. I had never been in a normal human's house before… at least, not that I can remember. It had always been those big-ass villa's all of us nations apparently seem to have. It was like we weren't able to function normally without living in those. But I guess the Bosses gave us huge Houses because we were important and stuff… something like that.

In any case, having an enormous House comes in handy when Destiny (or England) had tosses three kids into your lives, so you won't hear me whine about it.

The Sanchez family had a pretty small house. The ceilings weren't high, there weren't expensive paintings hanging on the walls and there weren't rusty armors standing in the single hall. Just some family pictures on that wall, a "family planner" (what the hell is a family planner?) on that other wall, and some drawing made by Raquel on yet another wall.

The walls themselves had a simple, cute design of wallpaper. It looked old, but still fairly decent. In fact, this specific air was radiating through the entire house: old, but still fairly decent. The furniture, the decoration, the kitchen, the living room, the lamps – all old, but still fairly decent, with shades of something more modern here and there, like the handheld console of Raquel (or Mr. or Mrs. Sanchez, I didn't know) and some other toys here and there.

'Wow,' I found myself muttering as we made our way through the house, 'so this is a human's house, huh?'

'Impressed?' Antonio said, swiftly snatching Alejo away from a pretty expensive looking, big plate. Antonio had wandered around in human houses before, he once told me, so he wasn't that amazed.

Well, not that I was "amazed", really.

'It's so… plain,' I answered. 'So very plain and simple.'

He shrugged. 'Well, they are just a family of three, sweetie.'

'So what? Before I moved in with you, you were just one person in that huge mansion of yours!'

'Lovino, believe me – for a family of three, this house is pretty big and spacious. Don't forget that they have to pay for everything. We're just… goofing around on other people's expense.'

'Oh,' I said. He was right, of course, and I felt a bit ashamed for acting like such a snobbish moron. I should think more about people and all the troubles they face in life – especially now that we had to raise three of them. I involuntarily gasped. Oh god, I really should get myself informed about human lives, as soon as possible!

'Blanca, my dear!' Mr. Sanchez all of a sudden blurted out when we walked out of the back door and arrived in the backyard. 'We've got company, dollface! Fetch us some drinks, why don't you!'

Mrs. Sanchez and Raquel, both of them relaxing at a table beneath a large parasol, looked up in surprise. Mrs. Sanchez was working on her laptop, while Raquel played with two barbiedolls and a… dinosaur (a very reassuring sight).

'Oh my,' Mrs. Sanchez said and closed her laptop. She got from her chair with a friendly smile, as always.

'Mr. Fernandez and Mr. Vargas, good morning! I didn't expect you here. Did you forget something?'

I nodded and explained the whole situation to her. Meanwhile, the kids started to run around on the very neatly kept grass ('Oh, that's okay, they're used to it,' Mrs. Sanchez said as my face got pale when Matteo and Raquel both dived into a flowerbed).

'Oh, how troublesome – the twins lost their necklaces?' she said. 'Well, of course you and your family can look around, Mr. Vargas.'

I looked at her awkwardly. Mr. Vargas, huh? Didn't she think that was odd I didn't have Antonio's last name, or the other way around? Oh, wait - people don't change their last name when they get married here or in other Spanish-oriented countries; they keep the names they got from the moment they were born. Antonio told me once. That explained why people here never asked us why we didn't share last names.

Well, sure, a custom is a custom, I suppose, and I'm not saying I don't like this Spanish tradition, but I must say... I'd love to carry Antonio's last name. I-It's just cozy, I guess.

By the way, if Spanish people kept their birth name (the surnames they got from their parents), then why did both Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez have Sanchez as a last name?

'Sanchez is a pretty common Spanish surname, Mr. Vargas,' Mrs. Sanchez gladly explained when I asked her. 'We both just happened to have Sanchez as our last name. Isn't that cozy?'

My eyes grew bigger in surprise. 'Yes! It IS cozy!'

'Glad you agree, dear.'

'But...' I frowned, '...that means that Raquel's last names are...'

'Sanchez Sanchez.'

'Ah. Right.'

The conversation was beginning to get weird, so I glanced over my shoulders to see what Antonio was up to. By the looks of it, he was getting cornered by Mr. Sanchez again while he was simultaneously trying to search the garden.

'I did some research on gay people, you know? And guess what, Mr. Fernandez: many homosexual men don't even do the sex! How about that? Is that the same with you and your partner? Or do you, you know… blow the dirty horn all the time? Many gays apparently do just that.'

Antonio looked so horrified and frozen rock-solid that he couldn't even fucking blink anymore. I think he kind of died right there.

…

Well I know I did.

Anyway, about the last name thing. In any case, it was very fortunate that I didn't have to explain anybody (well, at least in Spain or Latin-America) that Antonio and I never got the permission to change our last names in the first place - even if it had been able to marry in Italy or Germany or where the hell ever. That was just how the rules worked. Personifications of countries were forced to keep all of their human names, which should always be directly connected to the respective nations. Without an added disturbance that was another name from another country.

Ironically enough, my human surname appeared to be very Spanish, even though I was Italian. I guess that's what I get for being a lazy ass and letting a dim-witted moron like Feliciano pick a cool last name centuries ago, dammit.

Not that I minded my last name.

…

Huh. What if I had married another Italian man, with a real Italian surname? Would they have let me change my last name then? Interesting...

'May I ask you something?' I eventually asked Mrs. Sanchez – I couldn't leave that poor woman waiting for me to say something already all day long. 'When Antonio and I are together, you can just address me with Mr. Vargas, like it's meant to be, I guess. But when I'm alone, I... well, I'd like it if you would… um… if y-you would call me… Mr. Fernandez.'

And then I needed to press my fist against my mouth to prevent any shy chuckles from spilling out.

…ohhh god, why, WHY did I feel so giddy, it was only his stupid fucking last name, dammit, it wasn't even a petname!

Anyway, Mrs. Sanchez, wearing a concerned frown, nodded understandingly. 'I see. You must have your reasons why you want to carry your husband's surname so badly, no doubt… some Italian families are pretty notorious and conservative, after all.'

'…eh?' I said.

'It's okay!' Mrs. Sanchez smiled reassuringly. 'I get it, and I will call you by your husband's last name when the situation allows it.'

Oh, great - now she thought my strict, CRIMINAL Italian family was the reason I preferred Antonio's last name over my own.

…

Well, it was a manlier reason that the gay explanation I had in mind (I really just thought it was cozy), so okay!

'It's a very sensitive subject is all,' I theatrically lamented, bravely staring into the distance as if my evil family was hiding right behind those bushes with wooden spoons to throw at me or whatever.

'You poor man,' Mrs. Sanchez stammered, 'oh, the hardships you must have had in Italy! Such a harsh country! Oh!'

My face fell – what the hell, Italy wasn't harsh, it was the most beautiful country in the fucking world – but before I could tell her it wasn't that bad, Mr. Sanchez landed his huge, fat hand on Mrs. Sanchez' fragile shoulder.

'Blanca, my dear! Haven't you brought our guests some drinks yet? I'd do it myself, but the last time I tried to pour a friend a drink, it ended up all over the floor! Bwahahahahahaaaaaaah!'

'What a fun day that was,' Mrs. Sanchez smiled lovingly at him, though I could swear the air had just gotten a lot more chilly. 'What would you like to drink, Mr. Vargas?'

'Oh, everything's fine – as long as it's cold.'

She turned to look at Antonio – who still looked like he had seen and had been partly eaten by a ghost. 'What about you, Mr. Fernandez?'

'I'll have whatever Lovino's having – thanks…' Antonio muttered.

'I'll go get the drinks, then,' Mrs. Sanchez said.

'I'll go get some low-fat cookies!' Mr. Sanchez grinned – and both walked away. Well, Mrs. Sanchez walked away. Mr. Sanchez bounced away.

Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, but really. He was huge. Like, whoa.

'Finally some rest,' I murmured with a sigh.

'Yes,' Antonio said.

I watched the kids, all four of them playing tag and running around like they have known each other for years. I had to smile a bit. Aww. Look at those cute critters! It was nice to see they all got along so well. In fact, I—

'So anyway, about your butt. Um. How's it feeling today?' Antonio all of a sudden asked, out of the fucking blue.

I twisted my head so fast I heard something crack. 'What the – ow! – fuck, Antonio?'

Antonio made this goofy face and sheepishly put his fingers together, as if he was embarrassed about something.

'Diego kept on telling all these creepy things to me and now I wonder if I properly love you or if I need to be severely punished for making you unable to go to the bathroom normally…'

'Wha—I AM able to go the bathroom perfectly FINE!'

'Yeah?'

'Yes!'

'Even after we've been intimate?'

'…not… alright, maybe not right away, but…' I suddenly stopped talking, groaned, gave him an annoyed look and punched his arm.

'Ouch,' Antonio mechanically replied.

'I can't believe you're worrying about that.' I shook my head. 'Don't let that crazy neighbor scare you with his weird tales, dammit – that's Delgado's job! Listen, I'm fine, and if I wasn't fine, I'd tell you right away.'

'Ah…' Antonio let out a breath of relief and his face finally regained some of its original tanned loveliness.

I coughed. 'And the same goes for you, right?'

'What?'

'You'd tell me if something… wasn't right with your… um… body. After I'd… you know. Wouldn't you?'

'Oh, yes, yes!' Antonio shot a dazzling smile at me, which was remarkable considering the topic we were currently discussing. 'I'd tell you everything, my love – every disgusting little fact!~'

'Great. So glad we talked about this,' I monotonously said. 'So. Um. You found some dog tags yet?'

'Nope…' Antonio sighed and sat down on a chair. 'I don't really think we'll find them, either.'

'Neither do I. But we haven't really looked yet, and the demon children are more occupied with… rampaging through the garden than finding their dog tags, so… we should hang around a bit longer,' I said as I sat down on a seat as well.

Antonio leaned on his chin. 'A lot longer?'

I snorted. 'We drink our drinks, we check the garden, we check the house, we leave. Hopefully all within one or two hours.'

'Thank god.' Antonio moaned and bonked his head against the surface of the table – just once, though. 'If we'd stay here all day long, I swear I'd either go mad or I'd never want to lay a finger on you again.'

I chuckled and teasingly pushed my foot against his leg. 'And we wouldn't want that to happen, would we, Mr. Fernandez?'

'Mr. Fernandez?' Antonio repeated, raising his face from the table. 'You've never called me Mr. Fernandez before.'

'I could call you Mr. Fernandez every once in a while.' I moistened my lips and blushed when he blushed. 'Preferably at night, if you know what I mean…'

'Oh,' Antonio said, sitting upright. 'That's… oh.'

'Kinky, huh?' I grinned excitedly.

'Can I call you Mr. Fernandez as well, then?' he hesitantly asked.

I stared at him, confused. 'Huh? What do you—'

'Would you… well…' He twisted his thumbs and looked away from me, his face flushed. '…I know we can't, because of lots of reasons, but... I'd have liked it if you, you know, were able to carry my last name… Would - um, would you have liked that as well?'

'…did you overhear my talk with Mrs. Sanchez?'

'Bits and parts of it.'

'Well…' I murmured, studying the table, '…in that case, s-shit, y-you know I'd… I'd have loved to… have your last name. I told Mrs. Sanchez that when we're together, it's normal to address me with Mr. Vargas, but... if we're not together… or… if people want to call me Mr. Fernandez anyway, regardless of… rules or whatever, then… u-um…'

I breathed in and looked up, almost at the same time Antonio did.

'…t-then I'd be more than happy to be Mr. Fernandez, Mr. Fernandez.'

His eyes lit up so much that the already beautiful garden just got that extra bit more beautiful.

'That'd make Mr. Fernandez very happy as well, Mr. Fernandez.'

And then we both made high-pitched, silly noises and hid our faces in our hands because oh dear god, just leave it to us to turn a steamy conversation in a cute chitchat about last names.

Good thing Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez came to bring us drinks shortly afterwards, because I'd probably have crawled on Antonio's lap and clumsily hug him otherwise – and I didn't want to do that with Mr. Sanchez around. Nooooo.

So. Drinks! Yes.

\0o0/

The kids and us grown-up (as far as the four of us adults could pass as grown-up, of course) drank our drinks and had a light snack, but then it was back to business again – and this time for real.

No more playing around in the garden, no more inappropriate questions from Mr. Sanchez and no more lollygagging: we should try and find those damn dog tags already!

So we divided ourselves in a couple of teams, to try and have a better shot at finding the lost items. For example, Antonio and the twins wanted to inspect the bedrooms and the rest of the rooms upstairs. Mrs. Sanchez and I would check the other parts of the house (you know, the parts that weren't upstairs) and Mr. Sanchez, Luisa and Raquel would continue to inspect the garden.

'And if you're wondering what you're exactly looking for, take a good look at this,' I said, and pulled down the collar of Luisa's dress, so that everybody could get a decent view on her dog tag. I had returned it to her this morning – I mean, I couldn't keep wearing it the entire time, it was hers.

'Oh?' Mrs. Sanchez said, surprised. 'I didn't know Luisa had a necklace like that as well?'

'Papa Lovi STOLE it from me,' Luisa huffed, rubbing the necklace against her cheek.

I gasped. 'What? No way, you GAVE it to me, you little liar! You didn't want me to leave the goddamn house unless I wore that dog tag thing of yours!'

'You still stole it,' Luisa simply said. 'But that's okay. I forgive ya. I'm VERY nice.'

'When you're asleep you are,' I grumbled – but stopped glaring at her when Antonio put a calming hand on my arm and simply mouthed "not now" to me.

'Can I have a good look at it?' Mrs. Sanchez in the meantime said. Luisa looked up at her suspiciously, but nodded in the end.

'Let's see…' The woman crouched down and took the dog tag in her hands. 'Hmmm, you'd think we would find a necklace like this right away… it's pretty unusual, after all…'

'Can we just go look already!' Alejo suddenly shouted, since he was an impatient little pain in the rear. Just look at him, growling and snorting like some sort of wild animal. If he wasn't so adorable, it'd creep the hell out of me.

'Yea!' Matteo added, stomping with his feet in a weak attempt to get that same wild animal look as his brother. 'They'll run away if we ain'ts fast!'

Antonio rolled his eyes and took the boys' hands. 'We'll get started already if you don't mind, Lovi – they can't really wait, as you can see.'

And the faster we start whirlwinding through this house in a probably useless attempt to find some stupid dog tags, the faster we can leave, Antonio's eyes signaled to me. Which was very true.

'Go on right ahead,' I therefore said – and off they went.

'We should get started as well, Blanca,' Mr. Sanchez said, fixing his butt-ugly sweatpants. 'Leave Luisa, Raquel and the garden to me, dollface! We won't rest until we, the brave soldiers, have founded the sacred treasure that are the twins' dog tags!'

'Yea, let's get started!' Raquel impatiently agreed with her father.

Mrs. Sanchez stopped looking at Luisa's necklace, thought about something for a few seconds and then stood up again. 'Dear, isn't it better if I search the garden with the girls?'

He pouted. 'Aww, why can't I search the garden with them?'

'You demolish my garden, dear.' Mrs. Sanchez looked away from him for a moment and gave me an apologetic smile. 'I'm sorry – I can handle the damage that's done by children running through my garden, but I fear I might go mad if Diego's giving them a helping hand in his enthusiasm…'

'I'm not that enthusiastic – I can control myself!'

'Sssht, hush dear.'

'It's fine by me, really,' I said – for Pete's sake, I didn't give a fuck, I just wanted to look around already – and turned to Luisa. 'Luisa, is that okay?'

'No.' Luisa folded her arms together tightly. 'I wanna look with you, Papa Lovi.'

Ugh – now this.

'But isn't it nice to look around with Mrs. Sanchez and Raquel?' I tried, while Luisa walked over to me and clung onto my leg. 'You'll be like a… a Girl Super Team!'

'YEA!' Raquel shrieked. 'WE GURLS FIGHT CRIME, YOOOO!'

Luisa puffed her cheeks and pressed it against my leg. 'You join the Girl Team, too.'

'Um,' I said to that, unsure how to feel about that question. I mean, it was both very flattering and yet also quite not-flattering. Just think about it. I rather didn't, however. But god, if that perverted bastard Antonio had heard some of this conversation, you bet he'd be daydreaming about crazy shit right now.

Let me promise you one thing though: I'm so kicking his ass if he wants me to put on a dress tonight, dammit. I mean, come on. It's not even his birthday.

Anyway, I looked over to Mrs. Sanchez, who looked sincerely worried. Mr. Sanchez didn't look all that happy either, so maybe it was best if I suggested a Secret Third Option to them.

'Why don't Mr. Sanchez and you go look inside? I'll make sure I'll keep the girls in check as the three of us search the garden,' I promised my female neighbor.

Mrs. Sanchez wasn't convinced and frowned deeply. 'But… my garden… I really think I should…'

'Then we'll go look inside,' I simply said, getting really fed up with all this stalling of time, and picked Luisa off the ground. I beckoned Raquel as well.

'Come on, let's inspect the house, girls!'

'Yea!' Luisa cheered.

'But carefully,' I quickly added, noticing the bewildered look on Mrs. Sanchez' face.

'Yea, GO GURL SUPER TEAM!' Raquel yelled ferociously – and the three of us instantly charged into the house, leaving a baffled Mr. and a downright panicky Mrs. Sanchez behind in the garden.

I admit, it wasn't very polite of me, and okay, maybe I should have thought about Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez feelings some more – it was their house, after all – but there's only this much I can take, dammit.

Besides, now that there were three separate teams looking for those damn dog tags, it would just be a matter of not-so-much time before all of this was over and we could leave – something Mrs. Sanchez secretly wanted to happen just as much as Antonio and I wanted, if you asked me.

So onwards, Girl Super Team! Onwards to GLORY!

\0o0/

Well, one hour later, we finally gave up.

Not because we had looked and searched everywhere – the damn house appeared to be much bigger than I had thought – but because the boys suddenly lost all of their interest and wanted to go home, eat candy and watch their favorite cartoon.

It also helped that Antonio had successfully bribed Alejo and Matteo by promising them brand-new, shiny dog tags made out of friggin' GOLD.

…

Well, we'd figure out a way to solve that ridiculous problem later, I guess. Plus, I heard fake-gold was very popular with kids, they loved it (kids love ugly things, after all – it's an universal thing that makes them so darn cute) so if we did this right, all would be good and cheap and nobody would get hurt or whatever.

'It's too bad you didn't find them back,' Mrs. Sanchez – calmed down, thankfully – said as we announced we'd be heading back home soon.

'Are you sure you want to give up already?' Mr. Sanchez said, obviously disappointed in our lack of spirit.

'Yes,' Antonio answered – a bit too eagerly. 'It's, um… we've got more things to do than looking around for two necklaces the whole day long. And the boys have forgotten them already anyway!'

Alejo pulled on his pants. 'Papa Toni, so when are ya gonna go buy new—'

'For the love of all that's pretty, stop talking, Allie, and I'll let you inherit my war axe.'

'I like axes!' Alejo grinned, and made a zipping motion by his mouth.

'I liek the fluffies,' Matteo said, looking up at Antonio expectantly. 'Will ya give meh the fluffies, papa?'

Antonio blinked confusedly. 'Um—'

'He'll give you the fluffies, he'll give you anything,' I answered in his place. 'Now shush, smile at the nice neighbors and thank them for allowing us to completely ruin their peaceful afternoon.'

'Thank ya!' Matteo and Alejo both happily said at the same time.

'Yea, what they says,' Luisa muttered, uninterested.

Mrs. Sanchez smiled, endeared, which meant she was a damn saint – I sure as hell wouldn't smile anymore after all the shit and stress my dysfunctional family had put them through, dammit. But luckily, she looked fine now, meaning she recovered fast. Good for her.

'It's quite alright, Mr. Vargas. I'm sorry we couldn't be more help. Especially since the boys lost it in our house,' she said.

'You were very helpful!' I stammered. 'Really, don't feel guilty or responsible, it's Alejo and Matteo's fault for not looking after their stuff carefully enough!'

'He's right, Blanca, you and Diego gave us more help than we hoped for, and we're very thankful for that,' Antonio helped. 'We just got to go now. Like I said, we've got… um… other appointments.'

'That's fine! We'll drop by some other time – to avenge this visit!' Mr. Sanchez jokingly said, smiling broadly. 'You can make up to us by inviting us over and telling us more about your bedroom secrets. Or bathroom, kitchen, garage or living room secrets! Bhaaaaaahahahahahahahaha!'

'Ahahahaha that's nice bye bye now,' Antonio urgently said, throwing his comma-skills out of the window, and hastily dragged me and the kids away from the gloating Mr. Sanchez, the elegant Mrs. Sanchez and the hyperactive Kid Sanchez.

\0o0/

'FINALLY!' was the first thing I cried out when we got back home and closed the door behind us. 'We GOT AWAY! ALIVE, even! Thank GOD!'

'Yes,' Antonio admitted, while he put Matteo down on the ground and watched Luisa and Alejo run to the living room, 'I'm also glad that is over. I really like Diego, he's a pretty decent guy, and Blanca is pretty awesome as well, but for some reason, they drain your energy out of you like it's nothing.'

He sighed and rubbed his neck.

I clacked my tongue and started picking up the jackets and shoes Luisa and Alejo had very evilly dropped and kicked off in the hallway (fucking sloppy brats dammit, I bet they all had that from Antonio – not from me).

'I have to say that I do feel a bit bad for feeling so relieved right now. I mean, shit, they're very nice people, and yet… GOD, it's good to be away from them!'

Antonio nodded and helped me out, putting the kids' thin coats (it was Summer, after all) away. 'I think you shouldn't feel too bad about that – ALL people have this weird, slightly uncomfortable relationship with the people next door. You want to get along, but at the same time, you want them to stay out of your personal life as much as possible. It causes… friction, I guess.'

I chuckled and wanted to tell him if he wanted to sit in the garden with me – we could even make us some fresh tomato juice, ohhh yes, with ice cubes and all that and a funny straw yes so very niiiiiice – but then Matteo awkwardly waggled over to me, with a envelope hanging from his mouth.

'Wrfff, wrffff!' he tried to bark, and even shook his butt to give us the illusion he had tail.

'Aww, look at that – we've got our own mail…dog-thing!' Antonio cooed and grabbed the envelope.

I, however, was less charmed – especially since Matteo refused to hand over the letter easily and even growled when Antonio tried to snatch it away from him.

'Grrrrrrrrrrrr…' Matteo grumbled excitedly.

'We have mail?' I said.

Antonio kept struggling with Matteo. 'Looks like it – unf! Let go, Teo, you'll rip it!'

'But we never have mail,' I pointed out.

'That's not true, we get mail from other personifications sometimes… HAH!'

Antonio managed to free the letter – though a small part of it had been bitten off. Matteo wasn't angry, however, and looked up at me in amazement.

'Papa Lovi! Ah ate WORDS!'

'Fuck, really?' I worriedly said – although part of me whispered to me some extra words would never hurt Matteo's limited dictionary. 'Are you alright, kid?'

'Yea!'

'Did it taste good?'

'No!'

And then he ran after his brother and sister, who, by the sounds of it, had just turned on the television.

I muttered an annoyed "ugh" and turned to Antonio. 'Those little pests are getting way too spoiled – we should tell them to go play outside or something, the weather's great! And… and…'

I stopped talking when I noticed Antonio's face as he read the letter.

'Wh-what?' I softly asked. 'What does it say? Who sent it?'

He didn't answer me; he was still reading. Antonio had this nasty habit of ignoring all of his surroundings whenever he was reading something interesting, so all I could do was wait for him to finish. So I did.

After what seemed to be hours, Antonio finally looked up from the paper and shot me a nervous look.

'L-Lovino… we—'

'Give me that, you slowpoke,' I nagged as I impatiently grasped the letter, 'I want to read it myself!'

I pretended I didn't see Antonio's darting eyes and focused mine on the partly-eaten letter.

This was what it said:

'Dear personification,

The time has come to give you an explanation for all that has happened in the past few months. We, your Leaders and the Personification Protection Security Services, understand that we can no longer keep things secret for you anymore – not after the recent happenings.

We know you have questions and we are aware that our behavior and actions have only caused you to think of new, more concerned questions. We are sincerely sorry for all the commotion. We promise you that during the extra meeting tomorrow at 15:00 in the Palace of Europe, we will give you the answers you have been waiting for all this time.

President-Director Pita and the Elite of the Personification Protection Security Services will be expecting you in the large debate chamber, the Hemicycle.

Please don't be late. Please keep in mind the importance of this meeting. Please be there, for we know where you are.

With kind regards,

The Personification Protection Security Services;
The Leaders of the North American and European Continent

P.S.: It's a formal meeting, so please dress yourself to the occasion.'

Oh.