A Band of Freaks Chapter 8: Past, Present, and Future, a hetalia - axis powers fanfic

[Refresher! The Bad Touch trio crashed Madeline's sleepover just to spend time with the girls and the group played an interesting (and highly embarrassing) game of Double Dog. After Lovina's grandfather caught her naked and injured in Antonio's arms, the gang decided that they'd had enough dares for the night and instead listened to the eldest Italian sing Call Me Maybe. Antonio then became curious as to who the rather lovey-dovey song was written for.

Anyways, sorry for the long wait. I had some problems with my fanfiction password so...anyways, prepare for some PruCan towards the end! And next chapter will mainly be focused on the confusing love triangle between Alice, Francis, and Alfred ;D Tell me which you prefer (FrUk or UsUk) and maybe, just maybe, the story will go your way. Review, lovelies!]

FLASHBACK

"Why don't you come on out, Lovina? I'm not mean, promise!" the new babysitter cooed, reaching towards the nervous fifth-grader with a beckoning hand; Lovina in turn only clenched her Nonno's pant leg harder, shaking her head fervently as she puffed out her chubby cheeks in indignation, eyes glaring up from under furrowed eyebrows.

"Sorella is prob'ly just scared 'cause you're a stranger, Ms. Bella!" piped up Feliciana, who was dangling like an acrobatic monkey from the babysitter's right arm (damn her and her flexibility). "Tell her 'bout yourself and maybe she'll stop hiding!"

Dumb Feliciana! Lovina mentally ranted, crouching even further behind Nonno as she aimed a sharp glare in her sister's direction.

Psh, it wasn't that she was scared! No, not at all! She was in fifth grade already and being scared of strangers was for dumb crybabies like Feliciana! Yeah, she was just nervous, is all. Nervous because...dammit, this babysitter was really, really pretty!

"Hmmm, okay, where to start? My name is Bella and I'm from Belgium. I'm in eighth grade, I have one older brother named Lars, and I think you two are absolutely adorable~! Oh, and I speak Spanish, which is pretty close to Italian, right?" the babysitter-Bella-burst, leaning down to Lovina's eye level with an unnerving and eerily cat-like grin.

Nonno laughed heartily, patting his grand-daughter's auburn hair rather roughly as if saying, 'You better keep your language PG or else no tomatoes all this week!'

"They are pretty close, but don't worry, Lovina here knows some Spanish!" Romulus beamed, pushing the ten-year older forward despite her surprised squawk of protest. "Go ahead, little one, say something in Spanish!"

Lovina was about to curse at her stupid Nonno and tell him Spanish was dumb anyways when she found herself practically nose-to-nose with an extremely friendly (and extremely pretty) Belgian. The poor Italian's heart made an almost audible thud against her ribcage as she became enraptured in chartreuse eyes only a shade lighter than her own.

"Go ahead and say something, cutie," Bella encouraged, clasping her hands together like a patient school teacher as the child before her flushed deeply.

Lovina's brain was buzzing with the sudden rush of blood to her face as she squeaked something inaudible, ducking her head in embarrassment. The babysitter leaned in closer, cupping her ear with a quick, "Come again?"

Lovina breathed in deeply through her nostrils, summoning up a courage that was quite rare for an Italian.

"D-dame un beso..."

The Belgian blinked her eyes in surprise as Feliciana looked on dumbly from the side. Before Romulus could chuckle at his grand-daughter's naivety, the blushing Italian, acting on her newly-found reservoir of courage, yanked on Bella's skirt, shouting, "Dame un beso! Beso, beso, beso!"

"Whoa! Sorry, sorry, it must be her Italian genes coming out," Romulus laughed, almost proudly, grabbing the girl's collar and dragging her away from the babysitter. But before he could lightheartedly scold the auburnette further, Bella raised her hand to interject.

"Oh, no, it's quite okay!" the blonde exclaimed, crouching down to properly examine the fifth-grader. "Cutie, if you really want to kiss me you can! Just lay a peck right here," Bella tapped her cheek with one slim, manicured finger.

Oh, shit.

All that courage Lovina had mustered up a minute before? Yeah, it just fucking skyrocketed out of the proverbial window.

The Italian blinked wide, petrified eyes before squealing in shock. Before the others could comprehend what was about to happen, Lovina headbutted her way past Romulus and made a mad dash upstairs, vowing that she would never, ever speak Spanish again.

-time skip-

"Oh, Lovi~!" came the rather mischevious voice of Lovina's best friend Bella from down the hall. It was the Vargas girls' first day of high school, and their former babysitter, already a senior, had been waiting for them anxiously to arrive. "Aha, welcome to high school, my charges!" she greeted, nuzzling each of the twins' faces as she bear-hugged them.

"For the last time, you damn Banshee, we are not your charges!" the eldest Italian screamed in response (which in Lovina-language meant something along the lines of, 'Hello, Bella! I missed you, too!'), ripping free from the Belgian's suffocating embrace.

"Bella, Bella, do you like my dress?" Feliciana suddenly bubbled, twirling about in her clover-colored sundress and giving the boys behind her a nice flash of lace panties. One blonde German boy slapped a hand across his rather mortified expression and promptly marched off towards the restroom.

"You look absolutely darling, Feli!" Bella approved whilst surreptitiously tugging the Italian's dress a little lower down her thighs. "Just don't turn like that anymore or you might, er, trip."

"Ve, okay! Can you braid my hair for me before first period starts?"

"Of course, of course! Oh, how are your vocal lessons going, Lovina?" the blonde asked as the trio made their way to an available table in the commons area.

The Italian scowled, crossing her arms with a small harumph. "Shitty, as always. That hag is so tone deaf she could make your brother's singing sound somewhat acceptable. And all she ever let's me sing is old lady shit, like Barbra Streisand. A total waste of my time and money."

Bella frowned in the midst of braiding Feliciana's thick copper curls, pondering for a second.

"Well, why don't you quit the lessons and start a band or something? I mean, Feli can play the electric piano and you can sing, so why not?" she offered, tossing blonde bangs to the side as she met Lovina's steady stare. The auburnette couldn't help but blush.

"D-dumbass, you can't start a band with just a piano and some vocals. Che!"

There was a thoughtful hum. "True. I can play drums, but we'd need a guitarist for sure. Feli, can you hand me a ponytail?"

"Ve, a band sounds really fun though! We could have a cool name like...Hasta La Pasta!" the green-clad Italian blurted out as she kicked her legs in the chair childishly.

"Idiota! We just said that a band can't happen without a guitarist!"

"Well, didn't your quiet friend play guitar with her brother during music class last year? What was her name, ve? Mandy, Mallorie...?" Felciana mumbled as she snapped her fingers in an attempt to jog her memory.

"It's M-M-Madeline, eh?" came a whispery voice from beside the group as a tiny girl with blonde twintails suddenly appeared, bangs pulled back in twin maple-leaf clips.

"Holy mother of shit, Maddie! Try not to scare the fuck out of me with your invisibility shit, capische?" Lovina screeched, clutching at her heart as though it might try to escape any second. "And why aren't you wearing the outfit I chose for you yesterday, huh?"

Before the Canuck had a chance to explain, Bella clapped her hands excitedly.

"Aha, this is perfect~! Now we can definitely start a band, right Lovina?" the senior piped, lunging forward to seize the Italian's free arm in a crushing grip. Madeline cast an unimpressed look at the blushing Italian as if to say, 'Really, you have a crush on her?'

Yes, yes, ever since she was small Lovina had harbored some romantic feelings toward her babysitter. Didn't mean Madeline had to make it so goddamn obvious!

"G-get off of me, you coddling freak!" Lovina threatened whilst shooting the Canadian a glare that clearly read, 'Shut the fuck up, or you'll wake up with Kumajirou's decapitated head beside you, Maple Bitch.' "And we just started high school, I don't think we can juggle a band as well!"

"But please, Lovi? It would be so fun!" the Belgian begged, drawing out the please for an unnecessary amount of time. Feliciana, catching on to Bella's tactic, soon attacked her sister's free arm and began her own spew of pleas.

"Ve, sorella, please? It could be like a hobby! And you can sing all the non-Barbra-Streisand songs you want!"

And thus started a good five minutes of whiny begging from both sides of her body. Lovina looked to Madeline for help, seeing as the two attackers had become immune to her generally empty threats.

"Just say yes already, eh?" the Canuck instructed, slightly amused when Lovina finally ripped her arms free from both beggars and shouted, "FINE, YES, GODDAMN IT, YES!"

Her loud outburst had garnered the attentions of several passerbys. Lovina ducked her head, muttering an, "I fucking hate you guys," before stalking off to first period.

-time skip-

Today was the day. Today was the day Lovina would finally tell Bella her true feelings! The twins' freshman year was almost over and Bella was about to graduate (thank God she had made plans to attend a local university so there wouldn't be any teary goodbyes at the end of the month).

She ran the straightener over her hair again, making sure every strand was absolutely perfect. The Italian had donned a flowing navy blue tank top and white shorts that made her legs look incredibly tan. She had been up since five in the morning (on a Saturday for Christ's sake!) shaving her legs, applying lotion, and even going the extra mile by whipping out the mascara. There could be no room for error!

Lovina hiked up her push-up bra for the third time while ruffling her hair to make it look more natural. Though there was no doubt she looked drop-dead gorgeous, it still felt as though her heart might drop out her rear end at any minute. God, now she knew how boys felt when they popped the question.

N-not like she was popping the question or anything, dammit! She was simply confessing to her best friend. Her best friend who just happened to be a girl. No big deal, right?

Right?

Right.

Sucking in a deep breath, Lovina turned towards the door with a wavering, but still present, confidence. A series of honks sounded from outside, signaling that Bella was already in the driveway, probably applying her favorite strawberry-banana lipgloss. Unless she had been extra daring today and decided to finally try that chocolate-flavored lip balm she'd been coveting in her Vera Bradley wallet for special occassions.

Damn, Lovina knew way too much about Bella's personal life.

Racing down the steps two at a time, the Italian barked a quick farewell to Nonno and his lady-friend before halting at the hallway mirror. Pushing at her errant curl in one last fruitless attempt to smooth it back, Lovina braced her shoulders and prepared to lay her heart on the table. Before reality had a chance to sink in, the auburnette yanked open the door, marched outside, and...

Completely lost her nerve upon seeing Bella's pretty little mouth flash that cat-like grin.

"Hey, cutie! Damn, you look smoking hot!" the blonde appraised, unlocking the Volvo doors so that Lovina could slide in (as nervous as ever). Green eyes raked over her friend's appearance. "Now really, what's the occassion?"

Lovina crossed her arms and turned away, partway flattered and partway petrified. "Hmph, who says there has to be an occassion for me to look incredibly sexy? Now let's go, I'm starved!"

Bella raised an eyebrow, her lips extra glossy (seems like she went with strawberry-banana today), but shifted gears anyways.

Whoo, Lovina-1, Nerves-0!

After they had arrived at the cafe, conversation had steered towards familiar ground. Namely Ludwig Beilschmidt's sudden interest in Feliciana (damn that kraut!). And the band, of course.

The waiter had just brought them a heaping banana-split sundae to share as desert when Lovina decided it was time. Where was a mirror when a girl needed one?

"Look, Bels, I-" the Italian started, eyes already averted to some chip in the wooden tabletop as her sweaty hands wrung the hem of her navy shirt.

"Wait," Bella interrupted, setting down her spoon with a finality that startled Lovina, who remained silent so that the blonde could speak.

"Look, I've been trying to keep this in all day, but I just can't."

The auburnette swallowed audibly. Maybe, just maybe, Bella returned the feelings. I mean, it was a well-known fact that the Belgian batted for the other team. So maybe what she had to say was just what Lovina needed to hear.

"Lovi...Lovina. I-"

A breathy inhalation.

"-have been accepted to the Univeristy of Landa. They gave me scholarships because they really liked my fashion designs. Isn't that great?"

It felt like Lovina had just been punched hard in the gut. Her lungs felt starved of oxygen.

Bella was leaving the state? Not just the county but the fucking state?

"I know it's farther than we had anticipated, but it's such a great opportunity! I can't just pass it up."

Of course she couldn't. Landa was her dream school.

"And I'm really sorry we can't keep the band together, but you guys will find another drummer. Don't worry!"

Who cares about the band right now? Bella was leaving for years on end. Lovina would only see her on holidays, maybe. The band should be the least of anyone's worries right now.

"-vina? Lovina?" Bella was muttering, waving a hand before the spaced-out Italian with something akin to concern. "What do you think of all this?"

Now the hardest part; lying.

She painted on a false smile.

"B-Bels, that's great! Fantastic, really! I'm so proud of you!" Lovina cheered, spewing fake congratulations as she hugged her friend from across the table. The blonde seemed relieved almost.

When they parted, Bella was beaming, glad to have support from her best friend. Suddenly, her mouth formed a small 'o'.

"Oh, Lovi, was there something you wanted to say before I interrupted?"

The auburnette gritted her teeth.

Lie. Just lie.

"N-nothing. I forgot. Let's go tell Feliciana the great news, okay?"

PRESENT

"...who exactly did you write that for?" Antonio asked pleasantly, pasting on his usual too-cheery smile though his eyes screamed something entirely different. Anyone who was true friends with the Spaniard knew he was the extremely jealous type.

"Why does it matter, bastardo? It's just some dumbass song I wrote when I was, what, a freshman?" Lovina replied, limping towards a seat so that she could rest her bum ankle. "It doesn't mean anything anyways. The person I wrote it for doesn't live here anymore."

"Can't you just give me a name?" Antonio pleaded, jutting out his lower lip ever-so-slightly. So I can beat the living shit out of him.

"No way, asshat! Leave me alone!"

"Oh, she's coming back on the eve of Halloween just to see our big gig! Maybe you can meet her then, Big Brother 'Tonio!" Feliciana cried excitedly, clapping her hands together as if just remembering something. Madeline facepalmed as the boys in the room gaped in shock.

"SHE?" came the expected outburst as Lovina, despite being an invalid, turned sharply on her heel and tackled her twin to the floor.

"You're dead, Feliciana, DEAD!" the elder twin cried as she strangled the girl beneath her.

"I c-c-can't breathe, sorella!"

"GOOD, BECAUSE I WANT YOU TO DIE!"

"Lovina, for heaven's sake, cut the poor lass some slack!" Alice cried, elbowing her way into the mesh of Italian appendages as she tried to free Feliciana's windpipe. "The girl's got the common sense of an earthworm! You couldn't have possibly expected her to stay quiet!"

"Mon lapin, I do not know if you are making things better or worse," Francis pointed out as Lovina began to bite at her sister's thigh.

"Oh, shove it, you frog!"

"I love you, too~!"

"Dude!" Alfred screamed finally, yanking Lovina to a standing position by the collar of her shirt and expertly avoiding her swinging fists. "The cat's outta the bag or whatever, so just spill the beans!"

"Yeah, Lovina, it might be best if you just told them...eh." Madeline suggested, gently calming the Italian down so that her fists weren't flying at the speed of light.

"The hell? I'm not saying anything. If they want to know so bad, you tell them, Maple Bitch!"

Suddenly, all eyes were on Madeline.

"Maple...okay, okay. Her name was Bella and she recently moved out-of-state for college. Lovina had a crush on her for a few years. That's it. There was no kissing, no making out, none of that lesbian stuff I'm sure you guys are probably imagining right now."

Suddenly, a reddening Italian smacked her upside the head.

"Fuck, Madeline! I didn't think you'd actually tell them! Of all the times for you to grow some balls," Lovina exclaimed, mortified. Then she noticed Antonio's steady gaze. "And what are you still staring at, Tomato Bastard?"

"You're only a bisexual, right, Lovi? Not a full-blown...well, you know," he asked, terrified of the answer. I mean, it would be ridiculously hot for Lovina to engage in some girl-on-girl action but he couldn't marry her if she was a lesbian! And he already had the chapel picked out and everything!

"The fuck? No, I'm not a full-blown lesbian, dumbass. Unless you're a girl or something, bastard,"

Suddenly, Lovina froze, finally understanding the longevity of her statement and regretting it.

Antonio's eyes looked so hopeful that he put ASPCA animals to shame.

"Does that mean you like me, Lovi~? As more than a friend?" he asked, voice more hopeful than his eyes, if that was even possible.

There was a long moment of silence before Lovina turned to her twin and growled, "You are fucking dead to me." Antonio merely took that as a 'Yes,' and proceeded to glomp his precious tomato despite her vicious counterattacks.

The girls had retired to Madeline's room, claiming they were tired even though it was only 11 at night; everybody knew they really just wanted to gossip and, in Lovina's case, avoid certain tomato-loving Spaniards.

Antonio, on the other hand, had never taken hints very well. He was currently lounging in the Jones-Williams living room, barely watching the masculine dick-flick Gilbert had shoveled out from the back of Alfred's DVD case. Instead, he was day-dreaming about his next date (yes, he was banking on more, even if it killed both him and his wallet) with the apparently bi-sexual object of his affections.

Maybe the park next. Yes, with a checkered blanket and picnic basket and-

Oh, wait. This was Lovina he was talking about! No mushy stuff.

Okay, okay, new plan! He would buy two magnifying glasses and they could terrorize anthills together! She, being the "devil incarnate" (Gilbert's words, not his), would surely enjoy a romantic session of burning ants to death, right?

"-io? Yo, Toni!" Gilbert hollered, smacking the Spaniard upside the head as the television was muted.

"Hmm? Yes, Gilberto?" Antonio asked innocently, cocking his head to the side for good measure.

"You thinking about that PMS-ing bitch?" the albino asked before taking a swig of beer that he had magically procured from thin air. Now it was his turn to be smacked upside the head. "Fuck!"

"Don't call her that, amigo. And yes, I'm coming up with ideas for our next date!"

"So you're hitting that, Antonio?" Alfred questioned from his supine position on the recliner, nibbling on what looked like a Twizzler.

"Yeah, you sure she wouldn't rather be dating an Antonia instead of an Antonio? Kesesese-ow, stop fucking hitting me!" Gilbert complained, clutching his head in annoyance just as there was a chorus of laughter from upstairs.

"Wonder what the fuck they're laughin' at," the albino mumbled, his curiosity piqued and pale eyebrow arched.

"Probably your pasty white skin, mon ami," Francis grinned cheekily, the stubble on his cheeks and chin making him look about five years older.

"Hey! Screw you, Frenchie!"

"For your date-" Alfred spoke up then, sitting up with a spoon of ice cream dangling from his mouth (where the hell was he getting the sweets from?). "-why not take her to the karaoke bar? Her and Mads used to go there all the time!"

Antonio pondered the suggestion for a moment before grinning in approval.

"That's a great idea, amigo! I think I wi-" Suddenly, Gilbert pushed himself up and shook his empty beer bottle for emphasis.

"Oi, I need more booze so I'm heading to my car real quick. I've got a crate in there, you guys want some?" the albino asked, already halfway out of the living room as a cacophony of assents followed him. Leaving the three to discuss Toni's upcoming date (God, what pansy asses!), Gilbert passed by the garage door when he heard a few piano keys being played. Curious, he popped his head in only to see the cutest sight he'd ever beared witness to.

There was Madeline, clad in white, mid-thigh pajama shorts and a long-sleeved top the same navy color as his own shirt. Her hair had been released from the normal twin-tails and instead trailed down in pale blonde ringlets to her mid-back. Clutched against her chest with one hand was a gigantic polar bear plushie while her free fingers played random notes on a small, stationary piano.

Gilbert cracked a grin, subconsciously finger-combed his hair, and strutted into the room.

"Yo, Birdie!" he called, raising one hand in greeting as he sauntered over to the piano. The poor Canadian jumped nearly a foot into the air with an adorable squeak largely reminiscent of a petrified mouse. God, how Gilbert wished he could make that squeak his ring tone!

"G-Gilbert! What are you doing here?" she asked, voice barely audible as she raised the polar bear over her mouth in a fit of shyness. He ruffled her loose hair in a friendly manner, causing the girl to blush. Really, she was too cute for her own good.

"I just heard your awesome playing and decided to come check it out. Shouldn't you be upstairs with the rest of the girls?" he replied, sitting on the piano bench and gesturing for her to do the same. Tentatively, she did so, lowering her defenses slightly.

"Ah, Lovina needed our sheet music and I volunteered to grab it since both she and Alice were too lazy. And, well, Feliciana was too scared to come down here alone. But I guess I got a b-bit distracted..."

"Well, do you think they'll miss you for the next five minutes?" the Prussian grinned, absentmindedly tapping some keys as he tried to lock eyes with his companion.

"What? I don't think so, why?" Madeline muttered, sitting Kumajirou to the side and finally meeting Gilbert's burning red gaze. His grin widened.

"'Cause I want to hear you play something, of course!"

The girl faltered, anxiety returning.

"I d-don't know...I'm a little nervous," the blonde admitted quietly but readied her fingers on the piano anyways. She was really itching to play and having an audience didn't seem entirely disagreeable. She usually didn't get to play the piano when Canta Che Ti Passa was practicing because they primarily had her strumming guitar.

"Don't be, Birdie! Just pretend I'm not here!" Gilbert advised, leaning back on his hands in an act of leisure. "And it's not like I haven't heard you sing before!"

The Canuck paused, scrunching her eyebrows in confusion, unaware that the Bad Touch Trio had spied on her band on more than one occasion.

"Wait, when have you ever heard me sin-?"

"Hehe, forget it, Birdie! Just play!"

"...o-okay..."

[A/N: Youtube. Type in The A Team by Birdy. (Ironic name, right?) Play.]

"White lips, pale face
Breathing in snowflakes
Burnt lungs, sour taste
Light's gone, day's end
Struggling to pay rent
Long nights, strange men

And they say
She's in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
And they scream
The worst things in life come free to us
'Cause we're just under the upperhand
And go mad for a couple grams
But she don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland
Or sells love to another man
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly
Angels to fly

Ripped gloves, raincoat
Tried to swim and stay afloat
Dry house, wet clothes
Loose change, bank notes
Weary-eyed, dry throat
Cool girl, no phone

And they say
She's in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
And they scream
The worst things in life come free to us
'Cause we're just under the upperhand
Go mad for a couple grams
And she don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland
Or sells love to another man
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly
For angels to fly
To fly
For Angels to die."

Gilbert stared in awe during the entire performance, completely entranced as he subconsciously realized two things. One: This was the girl he would fall in love with, if he hadn't already.

She would be the "dressed-up doll" he had always dreamed of taking to prom; her dressed in soft colors like powder blue or, better yet, lavender to match her eyes, and him wearing a matching tie. On her wrist he'd slip on a full corsage of lilacs or forget-me-nots or maybe even lilies, though the latter might cause him to consequently break into a rash. They would sway to some sappy slow-song while poking fun at Antonio and Lovina (who would be awkwardly shuffling about in some makeshift form of dancing beside them) in low tones, kissing on occasion. Then afterwards he'd drag her to the lake or some other romantic place; she'd be too proper to let him go past second base, but, hey, that was good enough for him.

She would be the girl who he would nervously ask one night over some French-Canadian dinner, "Hey, f-feel free to say no or whatever, but I think it would be pretty awesome if you, uh, moved in with me...? J-Just a suggestion!" And then she'd blush bright red before jokingly saying, "Only if you get consent from Alfred."

She would be the blushing bride who he'd wait patiently for at the end of an excruciatingly long aisle. Francis and Antonio would be grinning softly at him in their best-man suits while Alfred would begrudgingly stand on the side as a reluctant groomsman (Maddie's suggestion). Lovina and Alice, despite their ever present scowls, would be sporting tiny smiles, aimed more at the bride-to-be than the albino, but whatever. And Birdie...she would be gorgeous. Painstakingly so. With a white dress shipped in from the finest designer in France (thanks to Francis' never-ending connections in the fashion industry) and a bouquet of some pale purple flowers, she'd make his breath hitch like some lovesick teenager. And her vows would be exactly like her: delicate, endearing, and sweet. And his would be full of the word awesome.

She would be the tiny stay-at-home writer who he'd kiss every morning before work and every evening when he returned. They'd buy a tiny, awesome house with a dog and a white picket fence and all that other Hallmark movie shit she might possibly want.

And maybe, just maybe she would be the mother of future Beilschmidt's. Two boys and one girl. She'd be nervously avoiding him after realizing that she was, indeed, pregnant, the pink plus on her pee stick burning holes in her mind before she finally blurted the truth out. He'd sweep her up into his arms, cheering at the top of his lungs as he spun her around and ordered Gilbird to call the other Bad Touch Trio members. And nine months later, a Wilhelm or a Fritz or a Marianne would be born! With Maddie's physical traits and Gilbert's genetic awesomeness, of course!

Yes, this was the girl he would fall in love with, if he had not already.

The second thing he realized was that their entire future, him and Madeline's, relied on a first step.

So that's why when Madeline's fingers left the piano and she turned to look at him expectantly, Gilbert grabbed the sides of her soft face in his large, rough hands, calloused from years of guitar, and brought it to his mouth. In one swift movement, he connected their lips, delighting in the growing warmth beneath his sweating palms as the Canadian blushed a thousand shades of red. Her violet eyes stared at the Prussian's closed eyelids before, too fluttering shut as Gilbert smiled into her mouth, heart jumping into his throat when he felt the kiss reciprocated.

When they parted for breath, Madeline looked completely frazzled, unsure of what had just occurred. Gilbert, on the other hand, smiled like an idiot.

Finally, with a confidence he had never felt before (and that's saying something considering it is Gilbert Beilschmidt we are talking about), he spoke.

"Go on a legitimate date with me, Birdie."