Meow

He had been startled awake by a sudden, and considerably loud, noise coming from what he figured must have been the upstairs. He was in too much pain (still!) to lift himself up from the couch. And it was comfortable, too. Why would he want to get up?

He rubbed his eyes and managed to sit up. A very light, very warm little blanket was tossed over him. He noticed something- he was not wearing his blood-spattered and ripped uniform, and his face was no longer smeared with blood and dirt and his tried up tears.

Instead, he was wearing a too-big, dark-grey sleeveless shirt and a pair of baggy jean-shorts.

He took it as nothing more than courtesy on the lady's part.

Then he remembered why he was awake- Right. He had heard a loud noise coming from upstairs.

Now that he thought about it, he really wanted to know what had caused the noise- curse the curiosity of a cat. And, he would have gone up to check what said noise was caused by if he wasn't in so much pain.

Looks like he wasn't healed just yet. He felt one particularly large cut on his shoulder- it hurt the most out of all of them.

"Ouch, ah. That hurt, your moron," He heard the guy voice say. He couldn't for the life of him remember the man's name. He knew it but for the love of all things magical, he couldn't recall what it was!

"Well, then maybe you should stop hogging the blankets, piano-dork," that was the military lady's voice. She laughed. "Sorry, sorry. But since you're up…"

"No. I'm not making breakfast."

"Hmph. Jerk."

Well, that solved the problem of what the noise was. Vash felt like laughing, but he knew it would probably hurt.

He didn't bother trying to fall asleep again- he suddenly felt very hungry at the mention of breakfast.

The boy remembered the tactic from yesterday- he made a low, muffled whining noise and put his head against the armrest on the couch again, wondering if it had been loud enough.

The military lady came running down the stairs almost instantaneously, wearing flanel pajamas that were open at the collar. She ran to the couch and smiled at the little cat-boy.

"What did you need, Vashy-kun?"

He stayed quite for a moment, wondering how the lady had come up with the nickname "Vashy-kun".

"Uhm, I-I was wondering if… if I could eat something…" he mangaed to squeak out.

"Yup. I'll have Roddy make breakfast right away, okay? You just sit tight," She turned and shuffled towards the stairwell, and yelled up the stairs at the man. "Roddy! Vashy-kun wants some breakfast!"

Vash had to make an effort not to start laughing. Stupid nicknames + yelling up the stairs = silly situations.

A few minutes later, the man (who was apparently nicknamed "Roddy") came hopping down the stairs on one foot and trying to pull up a pair of worm out jeans up at the same time. He succeeded in neither of the two tasks, falling flat on his face at the bottom of the stairs.

Again, the blond boy stifled a laugh at these people's crazy antics.

Vash remembered that he hadn't seen the man's face before, instead keeping his eyes closed in an attempt to escape the immense pain he was in.

The man had brown hair, which was slicked up in a messy, but annoying aristocratic way, with one curly hair on top that seemed like it just wouldn't stay down. He wore glasses (very fogged up glasses, but the detail really escaped him for the moment) and had muddy brown eyes.

It was strange- Vash had a feeling that he knew this man. Of course, he had no idea why he seemed to be thinking that.

The Austrian had gotten up and brushed himself off, walking towards the kitchen, and past the lady.

"You really shouldn't treat him like a child. He's older than he looks," The man said, and walked into the kitchen, then walked back out a second later. "Give me the frying pan," he held out his hand towards the lady, who just glared at him for a few seconds.

"……Fine," she pulled a frying pan out of nowhere and handed it to the man, who then walked back into the kitchen.

Vash squeaked again, sitting back up and looking around confusedly. What had "Roddy" meant when he said that Vash was older than he looked? And how did the lady pull a frying pan out of nowhere? It was a pretty big frying pan, too…

"Ah- uhm…," Vash began to speak, but didn't continue. He didn't know what he was supposed to call the lady. He also wanted to know when he would get to eat.

"Ah- that's right!" The lady ran over to the couch and leaned down to look at the blond-haired cat-boy. "You can just call me Bis Sis!"

Vash nodded, his kitty ears bobbing up and down on the top of his head, and his messy blond hair slightly following the motion of his head.

"Oh, you're just so cute!" Big Sis made a fan girl-squee sort of noise, hugging the boy tightly and then skipping off towards the kitchen

Gosh, this place was really, really weird.

Author's Notez! =O
Heehee! Here's another chapter!
Switzerland is about as cute as a cat shota can get, don't you agree? X3
Anywho, disclaimer time!
Dis is not a claimer: I don't own Hetalia. Hidekazu owns Hetalia, and darn him, I want to buy iiiiiiiiiiiit! .

Well, will do! Look forward to more chapters!