Ch. 1: Suspicion
"When one's character begins to fall under suspicion and disfavor, how swift, then, is the work of disintegration and destruction"
~Mark twain
*~Somewhere in England~*
It was unusual for Italy to skip a world meeting. It's not like he hadn't missed one before, but this was the 5th time in three months! He knew he should call him, just to make sure that he was alright. It wasn't like they were getting anything done anyway.
"Mon deu!"
"Get back here you Frog!"
"Mon cher, you don't need to get so upset! It was jus' a cup of tea!'
Germany sighed as he walked around arguing nations and out of the conference room. He walked down one corridor then another, stopping only to push open a door and step into another room. It was quiet, the racket of the world meeting left behind the rather thick doors of the conference room.
The blond pulled out his phone and dialed the all to familiar number of the bubbly Italian, put it to his ear, and listened to it ring. He was about to give up when a voice piped up on the other end of the line.
"Ciao?"
"Feliciano?"
*~Somewhere in Italy~*
The light was low. The room itself seemed shrouded in shadows, not that he minded. No he preferred it like that. It gave him a sense of power, of control. He smiled at the thought.
I AM powerful. I AM in control.
He looked down the table. This was his power. The men, coincidentally all wearing expensive looking, dark colored suits and fedoras, siting on either side of a long mahogany table, they were his power. His smiled widened.
If only they knew how wrong they are. About me, about them, about all of this.
"Don?" He looked up. He responded with a nod. "What are we going to do about the Russians?" Oh yes. He'd forgotten about them.
"Si. They are a problem aren't they?" His voice had taken on a playfully sadistic edge. How he would love to tell Russia to Fuck off, but alas, that would ruin everything he had created. Well, that and he wasn't as big mouthed as his fratello. He knew self control. He had to, if he didn't he would have gotten himself killed already.
He looked at the faces of his most trusted. These twenty men were some of Italy's most powerful and they all answered to him.
"Does anyone have any ideas? I'm always open to hearing your suggestions, ve~." They all seemed to glance at them. They knew he was testing them. He always did and if he didn't like there answers, well, he had to make the Mafia good at something.
"I think we should make it known to them just where it is that there boundaries ends and ours begin." His amber eyes just stared at the man. It had been quite some time since someone had actually taken up the suggestion to pose their ideas. It was a nice change of pace and it wasn't like he wasn't thinking the same thing.
"Ve~ Idea brillante! It's time the Russians figured out just who is strongest: la mafia italiana o la mafia russa." He grinned as the man visibly relaxed in his seat. He just loved it when they got scared. "Then we will start the greatest war the world will ever know, and we will win. Now how can we pin the fault on~"
"Das alles ist Deutschland - das alles sind wir. Das gibt es nirgendwo anders - nur hier, nur hier. Das alles ist Deutschland - das sind alles wir. Wir leben und wi~" Auburn eyes narrowed in irritation.
Who would be calling me now?
He flicked his phone open and gave a sleepy 'Ciao', ignoring the others in the room. They had gotten used to his seemingly bipolar nature. It was just how the Don avoided suspicion.
"Feliciano?"
"Ludwig?" He blinked in slight surprise. Germany never called when he missed a world meeting before, so why now?
"You missed another meeting." Italy could have growled a 'no shit, Sherlock', but that would have given him away. Oh how he hated bottling himself up in the way he did. He really despised playing the fool. The very person he imitated was the kind of person that he would have killed on sight for the sheer sake of eliminating a headache before its onset. Or so that was the 'logic' he liked to use.
"Ve~! There was a meeting today! Oh no! I was having the nicest dream of pasta and giant dancing tomatoes! Lovi was there too! And Spain! But there was pasta everywhere and all I couldn't eat it all, but I still tried and~"
"So you opded do sleep drough dis meeding doo? Dis makes de 5th dime in dree months!" Italy ve-ed again feigning out-right fear.
"Spiacente! Please don't hurt me! I'll try not to sleep through another meeting! I promise just hurt me!" Feliciano babbled for a bit longer throwing in a few of the things he had used on him when they first meet before Germany had had enough.
"I vill hold you do dat. De meeding is pracdically over now. So dere is no use do you coming like lasd dime." The Italian let out a sigh of relief.
At least he isn't going to check up on me.
"Oh! Ludwig! We should go out for pasta sometime!Ve~ It'd be fun! I know this great little ristorante and~"
"Maybe some other time Italien." The brunette wished he could see the blond's face. It was sure to look like one of Romano's prized tomatoes. He loved to get the other so flustered. It was all Feliciano could do not to laugh each time a blush crept onto the others face.
"Okay. But I'll hold you to it!" Twisting the German's words so that he couldn't get out of their 'dinner date'. "Ve~ I should go before Lovi comes back and scolds me!" The Italian feigned fear once more. His fratello was a wimp. He only faked his bravery in front of others, but he was so transparent.
Germany grunted a response before the brunette bid him an overly cheery farewell and hung up.
Italy just stared at the phone in his hand like it just bit him. Oh how he despised them checking up on him. He could take care of himself, dammit! Great. He was beginning to sound like Lovino to. It was bad enough they shared the same face.
"Boss?" He turned back to his underlings, as he secretly called them. "Are we going to continue preparing for the war with the Russians?" At the mention of the Russians Italy instantly perked back up, his sadistic grin returning to its proper place. Oh this was going to be fun.
*~Back in England~*
Germany just stared at his phone. He had hung up. Italy had hung up on him. It was usually the opposite, he hanging up on a babbling Italy.
"Vhat de..." He pocketed his phone and made his way back to the chaos.
Jusd vhat has godden indo you ladly, Feliciano?
With thoughts of his self proclaimed best friend running through his mind, Ludwig rejoined the other nations. He quietly took his seat and began to make several plans to find out just why the little Italian was being so, out of character.
Ve~ That's that! Ch. 1 up and done! I do so hope it has meet the expectations of those wonderful reviewers of mine. I truly cannot tell you how much they motivated me to get this chapter up. Lots of love to you all! JG
Transulations:
Mon deu – My God (French)
Mon cher – My dear (French)
Ciao – Hello (Italian)
Si – Yes (Italian/Spanish)
Idea brillante – Brilliant idea (Italian)
la mafia italiana o la mafia russa – The Italian mafia or the Russian mafia (Italian)
Spiacente – Sorry (Italian)
Ristorante – Resturant (Italian)
Italien – Italy (German)
Names:
Ludwig – Germany
Feliciano – Italy
Lovino – Romano/South Italy