Author's Note: Trying to put a bit more 'history' into these things. I hope you understand what basically happened during WWII and the Cold War, but it's not crucial.

The question had caught Germany off-guard. It was asked of him while he still had his mouth full of a home cooked dinner, courtesy of Italy.

Taking his cloth napkin in hand, Germany silently swallowed his bit of chicken fettuccini alfredo and dabbed at his mouth. Italy watched with curious eyes as Germany picked up his glass and sent ice cold water after his meal. Germany readied another spoonful of the dish.

"Germany, you didn't answer my question..." Italy had stopped eating completely, now intent on looking across the table at his fellow nation. "Are we friends?" The way Italy asked, in this careful, slowly structured way, made Germany's mind pause in between thoughts as he tried to string together what it meant to be 'friends'.

The Triple Alliance was not what Germany would have called a sign of friendship, and he would have rather forgotten those years to begin with. But now, he remembered, things were less tense and other nations tried their best not to hold anything against him. He wondered if what Italy thought was the meaning of 'friends'. Germany knew alliances didn't mean squat, as he recalled Russia had joined the Allies due to the backstabbing Germany himself had delivered - and Russia had not liked the Allies all that much. They weren't 'friends' back then. Then how could he forget the whole exchange between America and Russia after that...

"Are you okay?" Italy's voice inquired, bringing Germany's focus back. His chest hardly moved as he took in small, unnoticeable breaths. Germany's silence worried him that their relationship wasn't as sweet as it seemed.

"Mi dispiace, Italia" Germany muttered with his thick accent. They had set up many language schools within each others lands. Did that count as some sort of friendship? He quickly went over the week's events, thinking of cooking with the Italian, playing rounds of sport games with him, sharing a bed, simply sitting in the same room together and feeling at ease. There was never a book that said those exact things, but if they weren't friends they wouldn't have spent all that time together, right? "Yes."

"You're okay, then?" asked the nation now sitting on the edge of his seat.

"Uh, yes, I am okay, but I was saying yes to your first question," Germany answered solemnly. His face became that hardened facade of somber it had always been. But this time Italy did not react with cowardice to his company's appearance. Instead, a smile pulled the corner of his lips wide and his eyes nearly shut because he was so happy.

"That's great, ve!" Soon Italy became his adorable, happy-go-lucky self again. The smile stuck on his face urged Germany to smile, even if only a little, as well.

"I'll go get dessert," Germany chuckled, taking the dirty dishes with him. "Why did you have to ask? We spend so much time together..."

Here was when Italy's smile turned sheepish, "Well...friends can forgive each other, right?"

Germany's brows met in confusion. "Did you do something?"

"I ate the cake you made for dessert after our soccer game, I'm sorry, Germany! Es tut mir Leid, Deutschland!" He thought the use of Germany's native tongue would somehow appeal more to the friend he thought would be enraged.

All he heard was a sigh - as Italy had his head down - and the clatter of dishes into the sink. A few foot steps here and there, then the sound of a few plates being set in front of him, Italy dared a peep.

"I made this one just in case," was all Germany said as he sat down across from Italy. He cut the cake and passed a slice to Italy first, then took one for himself.

Italy was glad they were friends because of Germany's understanding.

Germany was glad they were friends because he could actually understand Italy.

Mi dispiace, Italia - I'm sorry, Italy

Es tut mir Leid, Deutschland - I'm sorry, Germany