Disclaimer: I don't own strike witches.

The "Unexpected Alliances" story is pretty much finished. I haven't marked it "complete" yet because I plan to edit the draft in a couple months to tighten it up. This story is part of a larger story arc I am working on that includes the "Misunderstandings" story.

This interlude comes after the events of "Unexpected Alliances."

As always, my thanks and appreciation to everyone who had read, commented, favorited and followed. I hope you enjoy!

It was the first time in a long while that the schedules of the 501st aligned to give every witch a free afternoon. To help everyone relax and enjoy the down time, Minna had organized a tea in the common room.

The witches were scattered about the room engaged in various activities - chatting, playing cards, reading, and otherwise generally enjoying themselves. Minna and Sakamoto sat at a table near the windows opposite the main door, sipping tea, taking bites of cake, catching up on correspondences. Mio was reading an official looking letter from Fuso; it was covered with kanji and kana, and decorated with multiple, impressive looking stamps.

"Oh ho! The Fusan navy approved my request for three barrels of sake!" she announced triumphantly to Minna.

"Three barrels?" asked the Karlsland witch. "Why do you need that much sake?"

"For the wedding, of course," replied the Fuso witch.

"For the wedding?"

"Of course. It's required at a traditional wedding." Sakamoto looked dreamily into the distance. "The groom dressed in hakama and haori, and the bride in white kimono and tsunokakushi, kneel before the priest at separate tables and perform the San-san-kudo; exchanging sake three times in special nuptial cups." To herself, Mio said thoughtfully "I need to see if I have time to requisition some tatami..."

"You were thinking of a Fusan style wedding, then?" Minna asked carefully, smiling nervously.

"Of course. What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking we'd have a traditional Karlsland wedding. You'd be in a black tuxedo, I'll be in a white lace dress. We'll have Lucchini shower flowers on the ground before us and Miyafuji and Lynnette carry my train. After the priest marries us, we'll exit the church while our squad-mates shower us with rice," Minna explained, dreamily.

Sakamoto looked stunned. "...rice? Rice? GOHAN?!" Sakamoto's rising voice shook Minna out of her reverie.

"What's the matter with rice..." the redhead began.

"What's the... what's the matt..." sputtered Sakamoto, "That's food! You may as well have Barkhorn flinging sausages around... or wiener schnitzel... or..."

"Strudel!" clapped Hartmann joyously. "Throw strudel, Trude!"

"I'm not throwing strudel!" objected Barkhorn.

"Spaghetti Carpaccio!" sang Lucchini, hands to her face with glee.

"Oh! I know! Hamburgers!" Shirley chimed in, looking over at Barkhorn. "You can throw hamburgers!"

"I'm not throwing any f..."

"Pickled herrings!" blurted out Eila, hand raised and happy grin on her face.

The others turned to look at her, eyes wide with amazement mixed with horror.

"No, Eila," said Sanya quietly, placing her hand on Eila's knee. "Just... No."

"Okay, not rice. How about bird seeds, then?" suggested Minna, not noticing the commotion from the other witches.

"Oh, perfect. We'll invite pigeons to poop on our heads!"

Terrible image suddenly seared into her thoughts, Miyafuji put her hands on her head and probed her hair for wet spots.

"Filthy little feathered rats..." growled Sakamoto darkly.

Crossing her arms across her chest and looking away from the others, Eila complained sulkily, "Why does no one like my national treats?"

"...that's your familiar talking, Mio," Minna said, trying to soothe her fiancée.

Perrine looked positively sick listening to the Major and Minna bickering over their wedding plans. Lynnette leaned over and gave her a reassuring hug.

"We can throw something else, you know," said Minna, chasing after her Fusan lover as she stormed out of the room. "We could throw bits of colored paper or..."

"Cannoli! Throw cannoli Barkhorn!" sang Lucchini, waving her arms.

From outside the common room's closed door, Gertrud Barkhorn's indignant voice could be heard thundering "I AM NOT THROWING ANY FOOD!"