Title: Silver
Pairing/Characters: OT4, Francine, Alfred


Francine can tell that it's been awhile since any of her friends have consumed an alcoholic beverage other than their usual wine because after they've each had a few bottles of Alfred's silly Bacardi Silver mojito, Lovina is flushed a bright red, Romano has lost his shirt, Antonia is rolling around on the floor, and Antonio has taken Alfred's advice and started serenading them all with a heartfelt semi-Spanglish rendition of The Lion Sleeps Tonight on Alfred's mini-karaoke machine.

"Those are nowhere near the right words," Romano shouts over top of all of them.

"As if you would know. Antonio shut up, you're off key."

"Aw, I think it sounds really cute!" Antonia grabs a blanket and drapes it over Romano's shoulders. "Roma your nipples have informed me you're cold."

"Wha— I— no, those traitors."

Antonia, Lovina, and Francine all laughter (the former two far more than the latter), but Alfred just looks confused, because even though he's currently in Spain and he does speak Spanish, he's not used to these accents and the random Italian thrown in and how very, very quickly (and drunkenly) everyone is speaking.

"Romano's nipples are traitors," Francine says slowly, pointing toward her own chest, knowing Alfred should pick up the meaning just fine from somebody who isn't slurring their words into the carpet.

He does and it's a good thing Antonia and Lovina are so far gone, because he's not technically the last to laugh if everyone else is still giggling. "Your friends are hilarious. I'm glad I came here instead of that weird party Arthur wanted to go to!"

"It's a good thing you came to dinner with us too. Who thinks it's a good idea to come to Madrid and eat at McDonalds?" Francine nudges Alfred's shoulder out of the way when Lovina flicks a bottle cap at him. "See, it's such a touchy subject for everyone. Stick with us, we'll show you around properly."

"We will!" Antonio agrees once he's done butchering Disney songs. He nudges his way between Antonia and Lovina, who is now also laying on the floor.

"I don't see what's wrong with McDonald's!" Alfred protests, though he's laughing just as much as everyone else. "It's a great restaurant."

"That place cannot even be called a restaurant," Francine insists. "Seriously, just be glad we found you and not some other group of less cultured people."

When Alfred opens up another six-pack of the pre-mixed drinks immediately after Francine's statement and everyone readily takes the offered bottles, nobody bothers to comment about their "culture" or lack thereof.