Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or its characters. Nor do I own Toys R Us or any of its subsidiaries.
Acknowledgements: Thank you to all those who have reviewed, alerted, favourite (they all mean a lot and keep me updating): Elizablue, Cathrag, Arkanhari, ScarheartofDarkclan, xxcatxx, NightshadeHetalia, Becky999, .me.1, fire hores is awesome, Lani Carmine, xxEu-chan, ChubbyCubby23, AFreezingFlame, Animechic420, White eyed fox, Furret the Sparrowsong, rubyredroses1, PhantomPrussia, Art and Soul, Starchacer296, GirlLoki, FiresCreek, JustAGirlWithAPen, SchrapnelGirl, GermanyIsAwesome-NotPrussia, iTorchic, kakashailuckyblackcat, , Xou, alexf801, chattie98, Myrna Maeve (and Romania!), ThatPurplyThing, Forever Halfa, WinterLake 25, Frustration, Ankhasia Riddle, Kitty the Dinosquirrel, envysfangirl, PikoPiko-Chan, Silver FoxWolf, citrine sunflower, Canyon's Rose, chickenkitty, ZeroLuver567, Lady Sandra of Sealand, Tamarutaca, 101Icestormxx, VengefulCat (my beta reader) and all my anonymous readers.
Warnings: Do not try this at your local Toys R Us Store, lots of crack, also some foreshadowing from previous chapters comes out
Again, apologies for the confusion of earlier chapters - all sorted now...
Chapter 27 – Summer Son
Vienna
An assortment of Nations fell out of the taxi – fell out being the only word to describe the entanglement of limbs accompanied by swearing and shouting as they landed in a heap at the entrance to the largest toy supermarket in Vienna.
It should have been a simple affair. Surely shopping for a few 'disguises' should be easy, right? Wrong. America 'took charge' or attempted to.
"Right, I'm the Hero, so I will take charge of this trolley..." he announced. "Tony dude ..."
Antonio looked around sleepily, he had not had his afternoon siesta and really wished his lover, Herakles, was with him to share it. "Si?" he asked.
"You go along to the weapons department..."
But he was interrupted by the argument that had broken out between England and Austria, "I am not paying... I don't have any Austrian dollars or whatever the bloody hell it is you lot use..."
"Why am I paying for everything? And its schillings, not dollars..."
"Because this is your country... and I didn't bloody know that. You should have good old British sterling."
"Dudes, dudes... come on..."
"Come on, Natalya, we're going into Babys R Us..."
"What the bloody hell for?" Arthur asked.
"We don't need to answer to you, Arthur. Sod off," Hungary responded.
"Well, I say. Is it just me or are the girls getting more and more rambunctious as the day goes on?" Arthur asked no-one in particular.
Austria did not answer, he was sadly getting out his wallet to pay the taxi driver. As he did so, Hungary leaned in and stole his credit card.
"I'll take that..." she said sweetly. Austria knew better than to argue.
"I have no idea, dude. What's rambunctious?" Alfred said, his brow knitting. However, his mood lifted as he picked out a huge trolley and took off into the store. Stepping backwards and forwards on the mat so the automatic doors opened and shut.
Francis followed, sighing heavily, "Do you think I will ever get my honhonhon back, Arthur?" he asked.
Arthur was tempted to say, "I bloody hope not," but was too busy watching Belarus and Hungary commandeer a huge shopping trolley and, armed with Austria's credit card head for the nearby Babys R Us. Why were they going in there?
"Winnie the Pooh, Batman, Robin, some Supergirl costume..." Alfred read off his list and looked at Francis with a querying look, "Are you up for this, Francis? I mean if you don't think you can dress up...?" he let the question hang.
Francis would have, at one time been in high spirits at being asked to 'dress up' – and would no doubt have insisted on going to one of the less salubrious shops in town, however, he now just slouched along, with his hands in his pockets.
"Tomatoman!" Antonio yelled from the other side of the store.
"Bloody stupid Spaniard, there is no such thing..." Arthur yelled back.
"What about Germany and Italy or... whatever they are now?" Alfred asked Arthur.
"Don't bother... leave them out of this. If we take them along Italy or Germany or whichever it is will just cry in a corner waving a white flag while Germany or Italy will start shouting and just take over."
"Good point, dude."
"So, what about Vash and Lily?" Arthur asked.
"Dunno, dude..." Alfred looked across the store where Vash was examining the toy guns with great interest, goth-punk Lily stood beside him chewing her lip and occasionally rubbing her feet.
"Well, he did say he'd help us get into the bank..."
Alfred wasn't listening but was instead throwing Star Wars merchandise into the trolley.
"America? Oh for God's sake, we are here to get disguises you big lunk..."
Over in the Babys R Us section, Belarus and Hungary were 'test-driving' some prams. Both women were getting more and more excitable.
"Oh look at this one, Liz," Belarus squealed, using the other Nation's human name for the first time, "It's got teddies on the hood!"
"I like this one... it's got small wheels, I bet it takes corners really fast!"
Belarus was hugging a huge pink teddy to her chest and piling baby throws, cot mobiles and pink baby clothes into the trolley, she held up a particularly horrid and scary looking doll at Hungary and said, "I've got to have this!" she then added hurriedly, "Are you sure Mr Austria won't mind us getting all this?"
"Mind? Mind?" Hungary all but shouted. Belarus backed off quickly, "he'd better bloody not mind."
"Perhaps we should ask him before..." Belarus started to say. She could only imagine England's reaction if they spent up to... her eyes widened as she eyed the price on the prams alone... £1000 on his credit card.
"Ask him? Nope, I'm going to tell him," Hungary said resolutely.
"You should tell him that you know this baby is his," Belarus said carefully.
"I will, in good time," Hungary said and sniffed. His reaction had not been promising and her pride had been dented. She hadn't expected him to leap about ecstatically but neither had she expected the look of horror on his face. That's why she'd lied. And now she was beginning to regret it. "You need to tell Arthur... perhaps that kiss between him and Alfred was just... I don't know a mistake?"
Belarus nodded, "I will, but ... oh I wish big brother was here," she sniffed and was about to cry when her eye was drawn to a Moses basket with pink ribbons.
Vienna
Belarus's wishes were about to come true.
Big brother Ivan, together with Latvia, Poland, Lithuania and Estonia (still in possession of France's superpowers) arrived at Austria's mansion. They expected it to be the strategy headquarters of the Save the Painting Conglomerate (which is what Alfred had called it – although he couldn't say Conglomerate so called it a Conga), with America, England, Austria, Hungary, probably Belarus (Russia wasn't sure but hoped not and if she was he hoped she was still wrapped around England) and Spain. What they found was a small Italian man goose-stepping up and down the lawn counting in German – which made Russia twitch uncontrollably and Germany asleep in the drawing room, wearing very little and having a 'siesta'.
To say they were surprised would be an understatement in surprise, they would have been less surprised if they'd found ... England and Germany snogging on a couch, the former declaring that he'd always wanted to learn German whilst the latter was wearing a floral dress, or Austria throwing high denomination notes around and telling everyone to 'spend, spend, spend' or Lily in a gothic gear with multiple piercings and tattoos.
"Well..." Pol said as he inspected the sleeping German, "He looks quite cute when he's asleep and not shouting or invading small countries." This is probably the first and only time in Germany's long life that he'd ever been described as 'cute'. Pol continued, looking at the German's 1960's hippy couture, "But he really needs a make-over..."
Russia would really have liked to see Germany have a Polish make-over but he was trying to get some sense out of the small Italian.
"Where is everybody?" he asked Feliciano.
Feliciano looked him up and down and said, "Call yourself a soldier? Stand up straight, don't slouch..."
Latvia, who was still handcuffed to Russia, opened her mouth, completely aghast. Russia, predictably pulled back his left arm – he almost forgot and was about to use his right arm with Latvia attached to it until she squeaked – to punch the Italian out when Latvia stopped him.
"Vanya, I don't think he's himself. I'm sure he would never say such things..." she peered at the Italian. What on earth was going on?
Russia was unsure about all this. He was also much perturbed by the plethora of noisy German builders who seemed to be milling about. So many Germans to punch, so little time... not that Russia was on a timetable or anything.
Outside in the driveway, a garbage disposal truck pulled up. Nothing unusual in this one might say, however, the occupants were not Council employees but one drunken Danish Nation minus his perky hat (he'd grumbled the whole way, believing erroneously that it had fallen down the aeroplane toilet, in fact Sealand had stolen it and was now wearing it on the way back to Helsinki) and one sober Prussian.
"You're really good at nicking trucks, dude," Denmark said, still rubbing his blond head regretfully.
"I'm borrowing it, dude."
"Ja. If you were this good at being a Nation as you are at nicking stuff then you would still be the awesome Prussia, ja?"
"Fuck off."
In fact, they'd exited the airport just after un-awesome fat commie dude, weird gay cross-dresser, Toris (Casanova) Laurinaitis, geeky dude and girly chick dude – all Prussia's 'pet names'. It was Den who had spotted the truck and laughed at the manufacturer plate on the front 'Dennis'. "Haha! Named after me... kind of... yay!"
"It's Dennis, not Den... and... oh..." Prussia had then shoved the Council operatives out of the way, shoved the large Nordic into the cabin of the truck and drove off, with several bins still attached to the rear of the vehicle. They were going to rescue dude girly chick from the dominion of fat commie bastard and regain Prussia's status as a Nation.
But when they arrived at Austria's mansion, they found the same weirdness as Russia, Latvia, Estonia, Poland and Lithuania.
However, the weirdness was about to go up several levels from a measly 4 or 5 to 10.
"Dude?" a German voice called.
Prussia looked around. Only a few people called him dude, one of them was not his bruder (Ludwig usually called him, amongst other things 'lazy sack', 'disgusting creature' and 'sorry excuse for a Nation').
"Dude... dude Dad?" the voice called.
Prussia's eyes widened when he saw the stringy-muscled, silver-haired young man, wearing a hard hat and, like all builders, with a pencil behind one ear and a large mug of tea in one hand.
"Dude... kid?" Prussia asked.
The builder, or 'Mickie the Bricky' as his 'colleagues' called him, or that 'ignorant little turd' (as Austria had called him due to the fact the young bricklayer had coined the name 'Woderwick' for Austria) approached the two Nations.
Denmark almost fell over in surprise, "Dude? You've got a dude kid, dude?"
"Ja... I think..." Prussia was as shocked as Den.
However, the similarities were unmistakable. (Austria had perhaps seen it, subconsciously, but had shoved it to the back of his mind.) The silver hair, the arrogant swagger, the devilish red eyes that took in everything, the smirk - no-one could think he was anyone else's kid.
"Kaliningrad?" Prussia asked, carefully.
'Mickie the Brickie' nodded, "Ja. Fat commie dude tried to annex me along with Konigsburg," he said using the German name for the Russian enclave, "But I escaped, awesome!"
"Awesome!" Prussia agreed and they high-fived.
Denmark was astounded and, for once, in his long life, dumb-struck. "Who's his mum?" he asked, daringly.
"Erm..." here Prussia was unsure, "Sorry, I can't remember... I bet it was a gorgeous underwear model, ja!"
Kaliningrad or Konigsburg shook his head, "Ma was a Russian and made tractors, she was called Olga and she said if she got hold of you she was going to kick your arse."
"Oh ja, I remember..." Prussia indicated to his son that he was to shut his fat mouth, he had an image to uphold in front of Denmark, "She was a famous model..."
Denmark was enjoying this, "I thought you hated Russians, dude?"
Kaliningrad/Konigsburg nodded, "She was on the cover of Tractor monthly..."
Prussia rubbed his son's head, "Okay, gotta go, here's my number," he wrote Germany's home number on Kaliningrad's hand with a felt-tip pen and waved, "I gotta rescue a dude chick. But call me and we'll go drinking and see a movie."
"Kesese! Bye dude Dad!" Kaliningrad yelled. He turned to his astonished building colleagues, "That was my Dad! Awesome!"
But Prussia's 'dude girly chick rescuing plan' was not going to go according to the strategy he'd made up in his awesome head. For a start, Prussia was dismayed to find, as he and Den crouched in the bushes (which was an experience in itself and not one he ever wanted to repeat) that Latvia was still handcuffed to Russia. Sure, he could get hold of Latvia, but he had not factored in having to disengage her from the fat commie dude. He certainly did not think Russia would willingly come with them or willingly let Latvia go and he had no intention of outright antagonising the big Russian.
So they waited. Surely, he thought, the big Russian had to let Latvia go to the toilet occasionally and then they would dive in rescue her and go get that painting and reveal how he was the awesome Prussia.
"What're we doing again?" Denmark asked, chugging his last beer bottle and throwing it (to Austria's later outrage) into a bush.
"Rescuing girly chick dude," Prussia answered.
"Who from again?"
Prussia sighed. If he'd had a choice in the matter, he would not have chosen Den as an accomplice. The big Dane had clearly been at the back of the queue when God handed brains out. Although when Prussia peered through the window at Russia he thought the big Russian looked as if he wasn't that far behind Den.
Russia was clasping Latvia in his arms (or one arm as the other was attached to hers) and snuffling the top of her head in a way that made Gilbert retch. Ivan also had a big silly dreamy smile on his face. Latvia was half listening to the Italian who was telling them that 'Allied forces had retreated to Toys R Us'. She surmised this meant America, England and France.
"Is Hungary with them?" she asked as she tried to bat Russia away.
Russia just seemed to think her smacking of him was 'cute', and he smiled dreamily.
"I don't know, how should I know? Stop asking stupid questions."
Russia snarled at this.
Italy may have German tendencies all of a sudden, but a coward's heart still beat deep within him and he amended this quickly to: "Si, si..."
"Right, that's where we're going..." she informed Russia.
Russia was about to complain and then hurriedly shut up, when he saw the determined look on her face.
"We'll wait here..." Poland informed her.
Lithuania shook his head, "Oh no, we're going with them. All this mess was caused by you, Pol, and you are going to help sort it out."
So that's where they went – all crammed in Austria's tiny Citroen car. Russia was sure he'd been in that vehicle before and had been crammed into the back, no less. He was not wrong on that score.
Estonia, wisely, told them he would stay behind – he was chatting with the German builders' foreman about building contracts and the possibility of a new hotel complex 'Von Bock Enterprises' were about to build.
Prussia and Den jumped back in 'their' garbage disposal truck and took off after the four Nations. Closely following the rusting Citroen and the truck were two hire cars – one containing four Elvis impersonators, the other containing a number of skinheads with swastika tattoos. An eclectic mixture of pursuers it is admitted, however, they all had one thing in common – all swearing vengeance on the 'big blond Russian'.
Warsaw, Poland
"Put your hand in this pocket ... this pocket... no... my right... which is your left..." the speaker sounded exasperated and in fact she was very exasperated. How could it be that she, one of the most highly-trained and fastest promoted female in the Service could end up here? Tied hand to foot and bound to a moron.
"Si... si... your hair is very preety..." Romano said as he wriggled around and tried to put his hand in her pocket.
"Stop kissing me..." Major Bollockoff said, again. She looked into the Italian's amber eyes, "Will you just get that bloody knife and then we're out of here," she said for the fortieth time. "How stupid are you?"
Romano seemed to seriously consider this, "I am not as stupido as my little brother... he spends too mucha time with potato bastard... I have had a very lonely childhood... I was not looked after very well as a child... I had to live with tomato bastard. He made me dance..." Romano turned big, puppy dog eyes on the KGB Major, who was trying very very hard not to melt...
Remember your training... remember your training... She thought and then he kissed her again.
Toys R Us, Vienna
"There's Hungary!" Latvia yelled and almost pulled Russia off his feet. She pointed at the Hungarian woman who was speeding up and down the aisles of the Babys R Us area of Toys R Us with a large 'off-road' pushchair.
"Why is she looking at baby stuff?" Russia asked, his eyes wide.
There was no time for any answer – coherent or otherwise – as America yelled ear-splittingly across the store, "Yo, Russkie dude, my main man!"
Russia visibly winced. Latvia was dragging him towards Hungary and Belarus. Seeing his little sister's demonic look – her arms full of baby stuff, pink teddies etc and surmising that she was having one of her 'phantom pregnancies', he pulled the key out of his pocket and unlocked the handcuffs. He was rewarded by a hug and a kiss from Latvia before she dashed off.
He stood in a daze with a hand on his lips where she'd kissed him. Did she just kiss him? Willingly?
However, he was shoved forward by Poland who said, "Come on you big lunk, let's see what flyboy is up to."
It was testament to how dreamy Russia's mood was as Pol didn't end up being scraped off the ceiling.
It wasn't long before a hasty world meeting took place in aisle 4 next to the Stars Wars memorabilia and across from the Disney Princess aisle.
"A bank job, dudes."
"Keep your bloody voice down!"
"I am not wearing that..."
"Si! I wanted to be Tomatoman!"
"Why are Hungary and Belarus in Babys R Us, da?"
"They are? Good Lord!" Arthur almost fainted.
"Dude... rock out! Arty's gonna be a Dad!"
"I am?" England went pale and promptly fainted clean away.
Russia gave a sigh of relief.
Austria looked uncomfortable.
France stood and snivelled.
"Mr France, Ed has got your honhonhons," Pol said of matter-of-factedly and began examining a Cinderella outfit – adjust the bodice and it would be a perfect fit.
"Ah sacre bleu!"
England stood up – with Alfred's help. "I'm going to be a Dad!"
"Mon dieu, zere are zo many things I could zay to zis!"
"You're already my Dad!" Alfred said, much annoyed.
"I'm not your bloody father!"
"You have to marry my little sister now that you have taken her virtue," Russia informed Arthur.
Several male nations (France, Spain, America) all looked very shifty.
Lithuania sighed, "If you don't marry her Mr England, then I will... if that's okay with you, Mr Russia," he said, hopefully.
Russia had always wondered about the normally sane Lithuania's obvious crush on his little sister and sometimes, for purely selfish reasons, had encouraged it, hoping Belarus would one day reciprocate and leave him alone. But Katya and Poland had pointed out that Belarus would probably end up living in his house which was almost as bad – he would have got no peace at all.
"Nyet, she will marry Mr England and live in London and..." here Ivan dragged Arthur into a huge bear hug, "... Arthur and I will be brothers-in-law..."
England went very pale.
"Haha! Rock out! Look at dude Arty's face!"
"... and the wedding will be in England and we are all invited!" Russia continued, a horrid gleam in his eyes.
"I say!" England spluttered.
"Whoop whoop! I can be best man! Get in!" America yelled, shoving a Princess Leia costume in his trolley.
Before anyone could ask who the costume was for, Antonio, who had been perusing the shelves looking vainly for a 'Tomatoman' custome and now stood next to Russia, was knocked out by a very well aimed 'Mr Spell' which, as it hit his head and knocked him out, spelt out "S...t...u...p...i...d". It got no further before Russia crushed it between his hands.
"Tony dude, you okay?" America asked the unconscious Spaniard.
'Tony dude' was out for the count, so Alfred merely picked him and dumped him in a nearby trolley – unfortunately, not their trolley. (Tony Dude was later bought by a rather conservative Austrian family with three children who were all delighted with their purchase.)
"Who would do this?" Arthur asked, looking around totally outraged.
He soon got an answer. Four Elvis impersonators and six skinheads were approaching them. One of the skinheads – the largest and ugliest – waved a baseball bat (with a price-tag still attached) at Russia. "Our arguments with him, not you, so butt out, stupid pansy gay Englishman."
"Well, I say!" Arthur said, again. "Bloody Germans!" (Actually there were a mixture of Estonian/Lithuanian – but to Arthur this was all one and the same.)
Alfred picked up a light-sabre, threw one to Russia and another to Arthur and said, in his best Hero voice, "Nobody calls my friends pansies, gay or fat," he said, "...only me. Come on dudes, if you think you're hard enough!"
And with that, Alfred switched on his light-sabre and faced his foes – who were all evil storm-troopers (in his head).
Someone had to show Arthur and Ivan how to switch their light-sabres on and Austria whined, "Well, I see! So I don't get one? Well, isn't that nice? I'm not buying one... have you seen the price...?"
To be continued...
Author's Notes:
At the end of Baltics Secrets I mentioned that Spain and Greece had become an 'item'.
Most of the dustbin lorries in Britain are 'Dennis' made, as are the buses. When I was a kid I thought that's what their names were...
Future chapters: we find out who Lily's secret 'lover' is, a 'death', Grandpa Rome and other retired Nations, a bank job goes wrong.