One early Wednesday morning, around the time when the fishermen were just about ready to bring in their catch and dawn's color had officially left the sky, Greece awoke suddenly to the sound of something painfully like yowling.
He quickly figured that it wasn't a cat - he'd never heard that kind of noise come from any animal at all. He also figured, though, that it couldn't come from anything that was having much fun, so he lay there for a while, thinking (very hard) about getting up to investigate.
By the time he heard a hissing noise, like something was being fried, and smelled something vaguely delicious, he couldn't resist the need to satisfy his curiosity any longer. With a kiss on Kiku's forehead he unwound himself out of their little mess of sheets and limbs, pulled on a pair of loose jeans and padded downstairs, trying to look like he was being cautious of any sort of trap.
What he came upon in the kitchen quite possibly could have been a trap, if it was so obviously... not.
Greece blinked, blinked, and blinked again.
Because, for one, the yowling sound was coming from Spain. Once he listened closely, he could hear words; "AND NOOOOOOW THAT YOU'RE GONE, JUST WANNA BEEEE WITH YOU!"
The man looked like he was having fun, wearing short shorts and nothing else; except a nipple ring, it seemed, and a tiny ponytail at the base of his skull that captured all of an inch of curls. He looked like he was attempting to gyrate his hips and shake his booty, in a manner befitting the song sung by the man he so idolized (when smashed out of his mind).
And to his credit, well... he succeeded.
Trying very hard not to stare straight at Spain's Ass, Greece cleared his throat, managing somehow to get the other's attention over all the noise.
"Oh, morning, Greece! You look nice today!" Antonio grinned, sunny as noon; in a large pan he stirred something that looked vaguely like orange scrambled eggs. Greece just nodded numbly, trying very very hard to not stare at the other's butt.
"Um... good morning to you too, Spain... ... Why, uhh... why are you cooking breakfast? In my house?"
In return, Antonio chuckled, turning back to his cooking and, to some degree, his hip-wiggling. "I thought it'd be nice, hmm? Mexico taught me how to make these! It's scrambled eggs with chorizo!"
Greece nodded, just trying to accept the whole situation. He had a rather large hunch; now that they'd made some new 'allies', said 'allies' would be making themselves right at home with him, and being kinder than anyone Greece had ever really known. He wondered, for a moment, in just how many ways that kindness and generosity would manifest.
"Are ... are you drunk?"
"Oh, no, he's being himself. Spain at nine AM isn't a very sane sight, really."
Greece turned to look in the direction of the sudden voice; it was Belgium, who was carrying a stuffed grocery bag in through the creaky back door. She was followed by Romano, who carried two, and a rather sour frown on his face.
"Spain at any hour..." he started, trailing off into some sort of mumbled passive-aggressiveness. Spain called a cheery greeting to the both of them as well, remembering to stop and deliver the traditional kisses; Romano blushed and ducked to avoid his, like a sulking 14-year-old boy.
"Oh, Romanito's in a bad mood?" Antonio pretended to pout for a moment. "Well, don't worry! We'll eat soon and then your tummy won't be all grumbly -"
"Enough, dumbass!" Lovino interrupted sternly, opening the refridgerator. There was a lull before he shouted suddenly, as if someone had put potatoes on his plate and expected him to eat them.
"The hell is this, Greece?"
"... Umm, my food ... ?" Heracles answered, about to say something about everyone needing to be quiet, Kiku's sleeping!, before he realized that it would be absolutely futile. Oh well; Japan would be up very soon anyway, though visitors so early in the morning would likely throw him for an unpleasant loop.
Romano was about ready to take everything out of the refrigerator, go through it, organize it, and restock it. Not, though, before he first gave Greece a thorough verbal beating; he had to realize that in order to cook properly, one must have a clean fridge and so help me God, if I have to spend any more time here than I absolutely have to, I'll get one more glimpse of the sorry state all that food's in and I'll give myself a goddamn heart attack. Do you want that, Greece?
Heracles was just about to really wonder why the Italian getting a heart attack would be a bad thing, when Belgium answered his thoughts, a smirk in her voice.
"Someone's gotta break down the others with words. We need to put up some kind of tough front, at the very least. And, well ... just try to find someone better suited for that than Romano."
"Romanito's like a toothless dog," Spain interrupted, pushing the pan off the heat and searching for plates, "he barks and barks but he doesn't bite! But does anyone go near the dog? No!"
"I don't need anyone telling me what i'm good for, dammit! But especially not you two. And stop comparing me to animals, Spain!"
Back away slowly. Greece thought to himself, doing just that. His brain refused to wrap itself around the whole scene, what had just transpired. People so passionate and full of life, who talked so quickly, were virtually unheard of around Greece's private home. While still attempting to process the first image of Spain in the kitchen, he didn't realize that he'd bumped lightly into Japan until the other tapped him on the shoulder and asked where exactly he was going.
"Oh! Kiku, I... you're awake!"
Japan nodded slowly, rubbing an eye and frowning in the direction of their uninvited guests. Before he could say something under his breath like, "if you had given me some forewarning, we would be ready to welcome you..." Spain had bounced over and enveloped him a tight, loving hug.
"Good mooorning! Do you want eggs? I made eggs! How are you feeling today, Japan?" He asked breathlessly, releasing his victim from the hug only when he felt it necessary to float off and serve said breakfast that he'd made, without waiting for Japan to actually answer any of his rapidfire questions.
Sputtering and red, Japan sat down gratefully in the chair Belgium pulled out for him. He was fine with Greece hugging him, even Italy, on a good day! But... but...
Belgium leaned down so her chin brushed against Kiku's shoulder. "Welcome to the rest of your life," she purred, the soft warm deathtrap of a fortuneteller sealing your fate.
"... and so I was thinking, wouldn't it be so cool if you could just have the baby like a kangaroo? I mean, you'd give birth to it and it'd be like, the size of a lima bean and then you'd just put it in your pouch and it'd take care of itself! Wouldn't that be just so cool?"
"Hai, Alfred-kun. You are right. Unfortunately, It would appear that I lack a pouch in which to nurture my child."
"I knoooow! Doesn't that suck?" America shook his head, hands clamped together at the back of his neck. The two were heading down the hall of some Houston hotel at which a minor conference was being held; they were going to stop and change clothes before going out to eat and explore around the city, despite the crippling late-August heat.
They almost made it, too.
Before Alfred could finish his thought on how much it would suck if the baby decided to come out Alien style, the two were violently ambushed.
Their attackers? Three young(-looking) women with huge grins on their faces and small gifts in their arms. They might as well have been pirates, though, or enemy soldiers, because America shrieked and Kiku attempted to defend himself just the same.
"You're having a baby!"
"H-hungary-san! Was it really approp-"
"It's wonderful, Mr. Japan!"
"Oh, isn't it, Lili?"
"I can't wait to meet the little bugger!"
Japan carefully picked Hungary, Liechtenstein, and Wy off of him, at the same time patting America awkwardly on the shoulder, attempting to comfort him after he so (un-heroically) lost his cool. He offered thanks and polite refusals of the gifts to the women, who couldn't stop gushing about their full-hearted support; any stupid man who didn't appreciate the miracle of life was obviously old and stinky and close-minded, they professed.
"Seychelles and Monaco and Zimbabwe send their love, too!" Hungary called behind her, finally fleeing, with the two younger girls at her heels.
Japan, still red and stressed from the surprise attack, stared after them. Like the scene at breakfast, he halfway believed that it didn't happen, but...
"Told 'ya so!" Alfred smirked, shaking his head and heading down the hall towards his room as if nothing had happened, as if he were already accepting the fact that being jumped like that would fast become normal.
Thank you so much, those of you who reviewed. c: It means a lot to me, and it keeps me motivated to work on the story. So ... R&R, please!