Rivalry

Part 13

"I am not wearing that."

"Ve~ but nii-chan~ You're the one who wanted to help."

"I take it back. I don't want to help."

"Nii-chan, just put it on!"

Germany was attempting to ignore the loud conversation coming from the storage closet, but was finding it rather impossible. He finally just sighed and glanced toward the kitchen's other occupants. Who were all staring at him in a mixture of confusion, horror, and interest…

He would never have expected that he'd someday be involved in the takeover of a gourmet Italian restaurant.

"Get off of me! I said I wasn't wearing that!"

"Ve~ nii-chan!"

There was the sound of something falling and smashing. Multiple somethings falling and smashing. He automatically started to move toward the door, then paused, not sure that he wanted to see what they were doing.

The scuffling continued for a couple minutes and then finally it quieted. He waited, hoping that they hadn't killed each other.

"Ve~! You look so cute, nii-chan!"

And apparently Romano had lost the battle…

After a few seconds, the door swung open and Italy bounced out, beaming as he hurried over to Germany and clung to his arm. "Doi—I mean, Ludwig! Look at nii-chan! Isn't he cute?"

Germany hesitated for a moment, and then gave in, turning toward the closet. He almost choked to death on the oxygen he'd started breathing in.

Romano was standing there, arms crossed over his chest, cheeks bright red in embarrassment, expression reading 'if you say anything about this EVER, I will kill you…many times over…'

Well now he knew why he'd been protesting so loudly.

He was wearing one of the server's uniforms. Which wouldn't have been a problem except for the fact that it was a female server's uniform. Black flats, nude stockings, a black knee-length pencil skirt, and white button-up shirt with a black vest. Veneciano had even brought—now he knew what had been in the knapsack he'd gone to Hungary's house to borrow—a wig that was a few shades lighter than the older Italian's normal hair colour, twisted into tight ringlets and held back with a black ribbon.

"I'm going to kill you, Feli. I am going to kill you right after I kill stupid Spa—Antonio." He glared at the humans who were almost all gaping at him. "Get back to work, bastards!"

They obeyed, not wanting to risk the anger of the irritable, cross-dressing Italian.

Italy pulled a camera from his pocket, one which looked suspiciously similar to one that Germany had seen a certain Hungarian woman carrying around before, and snapped a photo before Romano could react. "Nii-chan looks adorable! Except…" He suddenly frowned. "Ve~ we forgot something."

Romano looked as if homicide was sounding more and more appealing to him. "What the fuck did we forget?"

Italy paused for a moment, and then slowly brought his fingers up to his hair and motioned toward the curled strand that stuck out from his head. "Ve~ they'll recognize your curl if you don't hide it, nii-chan."

Germany immediately flushed, coughing nervously as he turned and attempted to ignore their conversation by counting the ceiling tiles. Eins. Zwei. Drei… He definitely did not want to hear them talking about their hair curls…

"Fuck no!"

"Nii-chan~ you have to hide it! Otherwise they'll know it's you."

"I am not fucking trying to hide that fucking hair…"

The humans were watching them again, looking rather confused by the conversation. Lucky.

"Doits—Ludwig~!" Veneciano whined, reaching over and tugging on his arm. "You have hair gel, right? Right?"

…Well, yes. You never knew when your hair might get mussed. He didn't want to end up looking like Prussia, after all.

He sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small jar of hair gel. "Don't use it all up, Fel—"

Italy grabbed it without bothering to listen to him. "Ve~! Don't worry, Doitsu!"

Germany sighed and shook his head slightly. He was rather happy now about the fact that Italy had adopted Japan's name for him instead of actually using the Italian name. He had a tendency to forget that when you were around humans, you couldn't use your country name.

"Here, nii-chan! I'll help—"

"You are not helping anything!" Romano screeched furiously, grabbing the tub from Italy's hand and flashing both him and Germany a furious glare. "Fine, I'll do it. And you'd better not listen, fucking potato bastard pervert…"

Like he'd want to. He wasn't Hungary.

Romano walked back into the storage closet, slamming the door behind him with much more force than necessary. Italy watched it for a moment, then spun around and darted toward the stoves, where pots of pasta were boiling. "Ve~! Why isn't anyone making the pasta?"

The humans, who had all been staring at them in confusion, suddenly seemed to remember their jobs and hurriedly returned to work, apparently deciding to actually obey the order their boss had given before he locked himself into his office and refused to come out.

Germany had to admit, even if he didn't agree with the tactics that Romano and Veneciano used, they had been incredibly effective. They'd burst into the kitchen about a half hour ago, Veneciano immediately squealing about pasta and would have run around from pot to pot if it weren't for Romano grabbing his collar and choking him to a stop. Then Romano had demanded they see the boss.

The man had come out, furious about the commotion. He'd asked why they were in his kitchen and Veneciano had immediately asked if they could meet with him in his office. Fifteen minutes later and they left, the man staring at the two nations as if he'd just seen a ghost.

Then, at a not-so-gentle nudge from Romano, he'd stepped forward and hurriedly proclaimed in a shaky voice, "Ah, these people are very important guests of the establishment. You're to do whatever they say. I'll be in my office for the rest of the night." And then he'd turned and almost ran back into his office.

"Don't forget your daughter's birthday this year, Signor!" Italy had called back. "She gets very sad when you don't send her a present!"

And the door had slammed at a volume that was almost Romano-worthy.

"Fucking…Spagna…Fucking…Antonio…Fuck…"

The door to the storage closet had swung open and now Romano stumbled out, breathing heavily, his face a bright red colour, his entire body trembling slightly.

But the curl effectively hidden.

"Ve~" Italy jumped at him, pushing a notepad and pen into his hands. "Here! Now you can go wait on them! Make sure to smile!"

Romano's eyes flickered over to a row of chef's knives, but then seemed to decide that it would take too much energy to go over and grab one so he could murder his brother. "Fine. Fuck."

"Ve~! And Doitsu will go and sit down nearby and I'll help in here with the pasta!" He bounced in place and clapped happily. "This is going to be fun!"

And Romano reconsidered his last thought… A knife would definitely be worth the effort.

A/N: So, I am so happy right now. I'm totally spazzing and flailing my arms like a crazy person. (Well, not really, because it'd be hard to type if I was doing that…) But that's not the point…

200+ reviews!!!!!

Ahhh, you guys are amazing!!! I seriously never imagined when I first came on this site that I'd ever get that sort of recognition. GAH!!! *blushes and stammers like a tsundere Iggy*

So yeah, you guys rock!! Hearts and huggles and love!!

Okay, now that that is done… Haha, now we've got all our pieces on the board ;D And Romano's in a skirt… Mwahaha xD *rubs hands together evilly*

All right, so I actually have a question for you guys, particularly for those in Europe. I'm making plans right now for traveling through France, Italy, and Spain in April and I was wondering if anybody would have any advice on how to do this in the cheapest way possible. Cheap places to stay, the cheapest way to travel, all that. I'm not sure exactly where I'll be going, tentatively Paris, Barcelona, Milan, Florence, and Rome. So yeah, any advice would be loved :) Thanks!!