Hey guys! Sorry this took so long to get up ^^; I've been really busy, as has...my friend...whatever she's calling herself at the moment. I forget. Anywho, here's the chapter. Not sure how the Sweden-speak turned out...never written him before. Enjoy!

Lithuania wasn't able to keep his mind straight at all. After all these years, all these fruitless years of pursuing Belarus and heeding her every wish and command (albeit, very few, and far between), something had finally come of it. He was on a date with her. Alone together. Just the two of them. He couldn't believe his fortune.

But it made him sick when he thought of what it had come of. At least the prince had gotten out alive, but that poor little pig…

~The Previous Day~

A solitary wild pig strode among the foliage, watched by a man with shoulder-length brown hair. The watcher tried to keep his breath shallow, and his hand stead, although his knees trembled and his palms were wet with perspiration. He couldn't do this, couldn't kill an innocent animal, even if it was to save his own skin, and possibly even the prince's.

The creature trotted over to him, wriggling its nose in quite an adorable manner, its tiny tail wiggling in symphony. He dropped the knife and buried his face in his hands. "I can't do this! It's…it's…I can't…"

Thwack! The sound of a wepon impaling soft flesh rung throughout the clearing, and Lithuania glanced up in shock to see the poor little creature, the handle of a knife sticking straight out of the pig's throat.

The brunette made a noise of horror, dropping to his knees beside the poor animal. "Who did this…?" he wondered aloud, surveying the surrounding area with sudden alarm. What if there was some pig-murdering villain on the loose, who went after humans in his spare time?

As if on cue, a tall shadowy figure emerged from the forest. Lithuania had no time to react before he took several steps closer, the sunlight revealing his identity, as…

Sweden.

A surge of relief coursed through the shorter man, before his previous dismay returned. The poor little animal.

"Y'were tryn t' kill it, r'ght?" The man mumbled.

Lithuania most likely would not have been able to understand even if he were paying attention, but as it was, he was still staring at the fallen pig with an expression of dumfounded sadness.

Sweden walked over and knelt next to the frozen male, reaching forward to with draw the knife. He raised his arm up, as if preparing to attack, and Lithuania flinched away in terror.

Thud! Followed by squishing, terribly wet sounding noises that Lithuania really didn't want to identify. He kept resolutely turned away, afraid of what he might see should he look back at the creature.

Splosh! A squishy, wet, warm object landed in his left hand. He could feel liquid oozing off of it, the arising stench making it's identification as blood indubitable. The revulsion welled in Lithuania, and he tried to keep from vomiting.

Filled with trepidation, he slowly turned his head, looking down at the mass, his fears confirmed. A heart. A real (live?) pig heart.

But he had needed the heart, hadn't he? Wordlessly, he got to his feet and ran out of the clearing, eager to find the box and deposit the revolting thing in it.

Sweden blinked, staring after the figure, rather affronted. "J's tryn t' h'lp…"

~Back to the Present~

Lithuania shook his head, trying to forget the whole unpleasant event. He was on a date with Belarus now, his life-long crush. The pig was dead, and ruining his date with Belarus would do nothing to revive it.

"So, Belarus, I…" she looked up from her meal, fixing him with an icy glare. He continued on, determined to strike up conversation. "How is everything?"

A moment elapsed, before she answered him coldly, "It would be better if Nii-san were here."

"I-I see," Lithuania replied, trying to keep on a bright smile, though he could feel the corners of his mouth shaking. How such a cute girl could be so terrifying, he would never know.

"You look very lovely tonight, Bela-chan," Lithuania commented, only to have his hand violently seized. A sickening crack filled the restaurant, the other costumers glancing over in concerned interest, the waiter jerking away from the other table he was serving, spilling wine all over the place.

Lithuania merely continued on, seemingly oblivious, or at the most, undeterred by his now broken fingers. "But you always look lovely. You're the cutest girl I've ever met. And you're independent and smart. Russia doesn't-" Another crack (Broken hand) "-know what he's missing."

From the cover of some nearby potted plants, Poland felt his stomach churn, before rage took over. Lithuania was his friend, and Belarus had no right to do this too him. It was, like, totally not cool. Seriously.

He needed a plan. A plan to get Lithuania away from the sadistic girl. But what…?

A metaphorical light bulb lit over Poland's head, before fizzling out. He would need to ask Lithuania's help later in replacing that.

"Like, how is everything?" Lithuania was snapped out of his love struck stupor by the familiar voice, although the pitch was raised a bit.

Before him stood none other than Poland, his hair pulled up into a high ponytail, ridiculously large earrings hung on either side of his overly make-up adorned face. He was dressed in one of the restaurant's waitress uniforms, to complete the ensemble.

"Poland, what are you doing?" inquired Belarus in a rather annoyed, albeit strangely curious, while somehow still monotone, voice.

"Who is this 'Poland' you, like, speak of?" Poland inquired, feigning ignorance, complete with air-quotes.

Belarus fixed him with her best glare. "I'm not an idiot. Get out of here, you stupid fag."

"I'll, like, have you know," Poland thrust out his falsely stuffed chest. "That I am, like, totally 100% female. Like, super cereal." The other diners turned to watch.

"In your mind, I don't doubt it," Belarus replied sharply. Poland bristled.

"Well, like, excuse me, miss, but what, like, crawled up your ass and died?" Poland crossed his arms indignantly.

"Poland, don't—" Lithuania began, seeing the dangerous glint in the Belarus's eyes, and trying to persevere his friend's life.

"Don't, like, 'Poland' me!" the cross-dresser countered.

"But that's your name, what else am I supposed to—"

"Lithuania, we're leaving." Belarus tightened her already crushing grip on the brunette's hand, before dragging him bodily out of the place.

"Yeah, walk away!" Poland shouted after them, all eyes on him now. "I know you just, like, don't have the backbone to face me, you biotch!"

Plan: Separate Lithuania from Belarus.

Failed.