A/N: Yikes, it's been a while since I last updated. But not to worry, I'll never abandon a story. Especially this one. Updates with me can either be really quick or slow. I have no chill, eheh.

And yes. This chapter was most definitely named after Pasta Jesus lmfao. Enjoy!

A Dining Revelation:

Arthur's POV:

Lovino cracked his knuckles in a threatening manner. Alfred and I both gulped as the Italian shoved his desktop screen so that it was facing towards us. A YouTube video was already opened on the browser. Lovino clicked the mouse to start the video, leaning back into his leather swivel chair with a grim look on his face. It was quite the contrast from his usual and dare I say 'chronic' pissed off mood.

Lovino slapped a hand against his desk, causing me to jolt up with surprise and Alfred to wet his pants a little. "Watch closely, dipshits," he muttered.

The video started, revealing a young Asian teen with shoulder length brown hair and almond-shaped eyes sitting before the camera. He was wearing a traditional burgundy duanga with black piping and inexplicably oversized sleeves. To me, he didn't look anything like your typical delinquent. He had a harmless expression on his face that didn't arouse any suspicion on my part.

The boy held up a small plastic packet that contained a thumb-tack sized pill. "Sup! The name's Leon. Um… so yeah. There's been a lot of hype about this drug in my school, so I thought that I would give it a try too."

The camera zoomed in to show the wry smirk on the boy's face. "Cheers, bitches."

Lovino reached over to pause the video. Alfred and I both looked to him expectantly. "There's a new synthetic drug going around under the street name: FMA."

The Italian clicked the play button again.

"Oh fuuuuuuck! Fuck me in the ass! Oh fuck! Fuuuuuuck!" Eyes wide as saucers, and cheeks rosy from non-existent exertion, Leon rocked back and forth on the foot of his bed, hugging his knees to his chest.

"Dude! I can't believe that he put this on the internet!" Alfred exclaimed.

Lovino glared darkly at the American, silencing him immediately.

A slide decorated in bold neon letters with a black background flashed onto the screen.

Stage 1: The Giggles

The video panned in to show a close up of Leon's face. The teen, as demonstrated in random, short jump cuts was shown giggling uncontrollably, holding up his pet shiatzu in Simba formation, twirling around and dancing like a ballerina, and attempting to twerk, but failing miserably as he banged his shin on the foot of his bed.

Stage 2: Tripping Major Ballsack

Leon stared blankly at the camera, his mouth parted open in horror. "What if aliens really do exist?"

"What if Trump is secretly an orange-skinned lizard person planning to take over the world? Locker talk? More like lizard-talk, am I right?"

"What if…what if countries had their own anthropomorphic representations? Brooooooooo. No fucking way. That's such a good idea for an anime!"

Stage 3: Over Falsity of Confidence.

With a red rose dangling out of his mouth, and a ukulele in hand, Leon winked at the camera. "Yo, Emil, want to go to the fall formal with me? Haha, just kidding. I already know that the answer is yes."

Stage 4: Fuck Yeah Motherfucker!

The dubstep music in the background picked up. Leon, who was now shirtless, fist pumped the air, kicking everything in sight.

The video then switched to a scene of the boy hovering over a makeshift fire in his bedroom. In the middle of the pyre was a massive stack of textbooks, most of which were of science and math related subjects.

"TRY ME BITCH!" Leon clapped his chest with both hands, imitating an angry gorilla impeccably.

"I AIN'T GOING TO BE NO DOCTOR!" Apparently, he was also impeccable at imitating a stereotypical angry black woman. I'll admit, this kid had talent. He probably wouldn't get very far in life with these skills, but he was still nonetheless very amusing to watch.

"I-I'LL…BECOME A…A POPSTAR! YEAH! THAT'S WHAT I'LL DO!"

Alfred and I chuckled at the utter ridiculousness of watching Leon sing an off-key version of Abba's Dancing Queen.

"Man! This kid is awesome!" Alfred exclaimed, wide-eyed and in complete awe.

I pursed my lips together to refrain from smirking myself. "Hhhhm. Yes, quite."

Lovino scoffed, opening a desk drawer to pull out a beige-coloured file. The Italian then slammed the file onto the desk, his sharp hazel eyes beckoning us to take a look at it. Alfred opened the file and frowned. It was always a sorry sight to see kids of such a young age die before they had ever really gotten a chance to live. Things like this hit Alfred much harder in particular. He wanted to save the world and everyone in it. If he wasn't careful, this unrealistic expectation would come back to haunt him later in his policing career.

"Was awesome," Lovino corrected. "His parents found him OD'd in his bedroom two days ago. Now, whatever that brat took, the lab's never seen it before. He's also Asian, which means that the school board actually gives a shit. I mean, who else would be there to raise their chronically declining grade averages?"

I cleared my throat. "Ahem, sir, perhaps that's taking the stereotype approach a bit too far. Not all Asians are smart, you know." Lovino flared his nostrils. The rest of my retort crumbled to pieces and I quickly shut up, keeping my own survival at the forefront of my mind.

Lovino shifted in his seat, continuing on as if our previous exchange had never even happened. "Right now, FMA is still contained within the town's local high school, Hetalia High. Your jobs will be to make sure that this drug doesn't go viral and break contagion."

Lovino spun around in his swivel chair, reaching behind to grab another two files from a nearby filing cabinet. The Italian then opened one of the files, letting his hazel eyes scan over it one last time before he promptly handed it over to Alfred. "Jones! I've taken a look at your pathetic transcript."

Alfred blushed at the reminder of his poor grades.

Lovino smirked, taking triumph in the flustered reaction that he had roused out of the American. "I've enrolled you in a bunch of dumbass courses. Subjects like gym, fitness, and outdoor ed. Get in with the popular folk and find out who's selling the dope."

Alfred determinately nodded his head.

"Kirkland!" Lovino spun his chair around to face me, opening a new file, my file, while doing so. "It says here that you masturbated yourself dry every night in high school."

I furrowed my brows in confusion. "It says that?"

"No. But a little bit of reading didn't take me very long to put two and two together. Being president of the school's magic club doesn't exactly get you a surplus of bitches like this athletic, muscular dumbfuck over here." Lovino gestured towards Alfred, who simply grinned back in response. They didn't call him 'Hitman Jones' in the bed for nothing.

"It was the club for the Exploration of Magical, Whimsical, and Fantastically Wonderful Creatures, actually," I corrected in a low, intelligible voice.

Lovino deliberately ignored my comment. "We suspect that these fuckers are stealing equipment from the school's chemistry lab. This is what they're most likely cooking the drug with."

I flinched when the Italian pointed a slender index finger at me. The divine wrath of Pasta Jesus glinted on the sterling silver ring that he wore. "I've enrolled you in honours chemistry, physics, and, biology."

I gulped and nodded my head. I had never really been interested in the natural sciences. I was more of a literature and social sciences kind of guy, but when Lovino told you to do something, you do it. No questions asked, and hopefully, no soggy tomatoes thrown.

The Italian handed us our last two files for the mission. "Here are your new identities. Allen and Oliver Walker."

I took the file that had the name Oliver on it, and Alfred, the one with Allen. "The mission is this: Infiltrate the dealers selling that shit and find their supplier. Succeed in doing so, and I won't feel the need to castrate the both of you by the end of this. We clear?"

Alfred draped a casual arm over my shoulders. "We get to be brothers?!" His eyes twinkled the same way that they did when a McDonald's cashier had gotten his order wrong and he received a free meal in return.

I shrugged out of Alfred's arms and scowled. "Keep your greasy hands off me, you git!"

"Says the guy with a bird's nest for hair!"

"Bloody wanker, you take that back!"

Alfred's face became increasingly purple. I didn't hope to let go of the grip that I held onto his neck with.

"In your p-perverted…d-dreams!"

LE BAM!

Lovino slammed his palm against the desk. "Would you two stop fucking around and take your mission seriously?!"

My hands dropped back to my sides. Alfred and I were quick to quiet down, placated by the mutual fear of Lovino's quickly spiking temper.

"Good bastards," Lovino cooed, speaking to us as if we were mere dogs.

The Italian then gestured at us with a dismissive flick of the hand. His nose was also scrunched up in what could easily be interpreted as disgust. "Now get the fuck out of my office! I need to febreeze the 'moron' out of this joint before I lose any more brain cells!"

…

Bloody hell, I can't believe that I'm actually about to do this. I sat myself down before the wooden pedestal in the chapel area and clasped my hands together in prayer.

"Dear God. It's me, Arthur. Remember? I'm the kid who couldn't make up his mind and constantly switched between Protestant and Catholic churches, like a child of a divorced couple moving houses every other week."

At the time, I was far too focused to hear Alfred's smug laughter in the background.

The American had a hand cupped to his face. Several fat tears were leaking out of his eyes.

"Anyways, er, I just thought that we could have a little chat, if you don't mind. Don't get me wrong, I love my job, even if the tasks are somewhat questionable from time to time. Being a police officer gives me a sense of purpose in life. It allows me to contribute to society in a way where I don't feel like I'm worthless, that I'm someone who children can look up to and aspire after."

"But here's the thing. I'm scared. High school was absolute hell for me. It took me a long time to overcome the constant demoralization and belittling that I faced there. And now that I have to go back, I have no idea what to do with myself."

"This job means the world to me, and I know that Alfred and I may not be the best cops in the world, but we try our best, and that's all that matters in the end, right? I'm praying to you now because I don't want to screw up this mission. So, if you could use those almighty hands of yours to sprinkle some luck along our path to make this town a safer place, it would be very much appreciated."

I nervously scratched the back of my head. "Um…er…that's all I suppose. Thanks for being a mate and listening to me ramble on like that."

A high-pitched voice rang across the room. "Pasta Jesus believes in you, mio figlio! I see much success in your future!"

Alfred's jaw dropped. "What the hell?! Did Pasta Jesus just speak?!"

My face and neck reddened as I turned around to see an equally shocked Alfred standing behind me. "Since when did you get here?!" I snapped.

Alfred's face paled. "Uh, dude…that's probably not the question you should be asking right now…"

BANG!

The slamming open of a glass door could be heard.

Lovino, whose office was on located on the second floor of the church, stomped into view. The Italian placed both hands onto the balcony railing overlooking the chapel area. "OI! FELICIANO! STOP FUCKING PRETENDING TO BE GOD, GOD DAMNIT!"

Feliciano sighed and stepped out from behind the Pasta Jesus statue. "But fratello!" he whined. "I was only trying to help, ve~! And you shouldn't swear in a church! It's not right!"

So Feliciano was Lovino's brother? How odd. Those two were polar opposites on the likeability scale. It was like comparing a vicious velociraptor to a harmless, chubby-cheeked bunny. One slayed while the other offered warm hugs and compliments. Overall, discovering their relationship to one another was quite unexpected.

"I don't give a flipping fuck! I'll swear whenever the hell I want!"

Feliciano pouted his lips. His attempts to calm down his fuming brother were long forgotten. "I'm lonely. There's nothing to do around here but fill out boring paper work. I miss Luddy!" he moped, widening his eyes into a pretty damn impressive puppy dog expression.

But alas, Lovino hated everything, including puppies.

"Well your precious potato won't be coming back anytime soon. He's on a mission, remember? Oh wait, that's right! You have an attention span the size of a fucking meatball! And a shitty-tasting one at that!"

Alfred and I's head bobbed back and forth, confusedly watching the two siblings have it out with one another.

"Why do you have to be so mean?!" Feliciano huffed, crossing his arms and looking up to give his brother the evil eye, which didn't even look all that angry to be brutally honest. Perhaps he looked a bit disgruntled, but certainly not the level of lividness that he had initially been aiming for.

Lovino threw his hands up in the air, completely exasperated. "I'm just doing my fucking job! Shit! Are you crying?"

Feliciano sniffled and turned away. "N-no."

Lovino facepalmed. "Oh, fine. I'll call up the potato and let him speak to you, but only for five minutes, you hear me?"

Feliciano sprinted up the staircase so quickly that I had to blink twice to fully register his movements. It wasn't long before Lovino was being smothered in a friendly, overbearing brotherly hug. "Si! Graci! Graci! You're the best big brother in the whole wide world~!"

Lovino's face reddened considerably, awkwardly reaching out to pat his younger brother's back. "Y-yeah, yeah. Whatever. Now get off, you're causing my shirt to wrinkle."

Feliciano pulled away from the hug, raising his right hand to salute Lovino. I'm almost certain that I heard Alfred squeal from the cuteness of that very action. "Roger that, Lovi!" Feliciano grinned.

"Che, I thought I told you not to call me that here," Lovino grumbled.

"Oops! My bad~"

"Dumbass."

Lovino looked down to aim a sharp glare in Alfred and I's direction. "What are you fuckers still doing here?! Your mission started two hours ago!"

"Uh…?" And thus, we have yet another brilliant comment from the all-American jackass.

Thankfully, Alfred's dazzling insight went unheard by the fuming Italian.

Lovino waved a threating fist in the air. "You better get your lazy asses moving before I come down there and drop kick you out myself!"

Alfred and I both sighed. "Yes sir."

Next Chapter Arthur and Alfred go under cover for the first time. You can expect to see the Nordics.