Lucky, Unlucky 5

He grumbled loudly, keeping his eyes shut tight. The hand on his shoulder was hard and cold. He didn't like being woken, especially when he was feeling this groggy and sleepy.

At this rate, someone's arm was going to be broken.

He shifted slightly; feeling dizzy. He wondered briefly if he was hung over. He tried to remember what happened at the Halloween party last night.

Actually he couldn't remember most of it. It probably went on for hours as well. What had he drunk last night? He blinked and tried to list them.

He only remembered having one cup of the punch, that was just before Maeve showed up and~

Oh.

His eyes shot open as he remembered the spell. Above him, Scotland saw England, still in his armour costume. He blinked in surprised. He lifted his head slightly to see Ireland and Wales standing just behind them. They looked roughly the same, there were small differences about them and for some reason they did seem a lot bigger; probably because he was still on the ground.

He glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. It only read 7:15. He had only been asleep for 15 minutes or so.

He looked up in confusion to his younger brother, trying to figure out what the spell did; apart from the sudden nap everyone took.

The blonde was biting his lower lip nervously. Scotland raised an eyebrow, curious to what was making his brother act so strangely.

"Prithee Scotland…" The Scotsman smirked at the language, making England scowl briefly before calming down again. "… Please I pray you, doth not freak out…"

Why would he freak out? He felt fine.

He obviously looked confused because England gulped slightly before continuing. "Queen Maeve have casted a bewitching charm of a spell…" Scotland rolled his eyes at how obvious that was. "Prithee, doth not freak out." Scotland scowled once again.

Why would he freak out?

"Thy dark queen's have made what was false real... Thou art a morel cat…" He blinked.

What?

….

What?

…

WHAT!

He bolted straight up, ignoring the rush of blood. From this view point, it was like he was lying down though he was really sitting up. He lifted his hand in front of his face and gasped in shock.

It was black and small and furry with no fingers and no thumb! He lifted the other one up. It was the same!

His hands were paws!

His eyes followed the paws to his arms which were short and covered in long, soft black fur. He touched his chest frantically, noticing he was naked about from the dark hairs.

Scotland felt anxiety build up inside him. He stood up on his hind legs like a human would, too distressed to realise that it would be impossible to stay balanced.

As soon as he stood, he stumbled forward clumsily, landing on his furry stomach with a yelp.

He felt something moving on his back and glanced back at it to see a slender waving tail attached to him. His eyes widened at the sight.

His tail twitched in response.

Scotland suddenly tried to grab it, to confirm that it was truly joined to him. He reached for it but it moved away from his paw and when his paw did finally reach it, he had no opposable thumbs to grab it with.

Furious, confused and very distressed, he banged his fists on the floor, rolling around, wailing with loud, high pitched meows. He threw his head about yelling out angry cat sounds, still tumbling about the floor.

It was not a long stretch to say that Scotland was probably 'freaking out'.

England watched the black cat roll around manically, pounding his paws on the floor and meowing in rage as he finally realised he was a cat.

At first it was amusing to watch the red head's expression at the sight of his paws and when he tried to stand up like a human. Then it was adorable when he noticed his tail and tried to catch it between his two paws, mostly failing and clumsily tumbling about after it. But now it was mainly worrying.

Wales and Ireland's prediction of 'Scotland not taking this well' was accurate.

To the blonde, it looked exactly like a wild temper tantrum with paws, ears and a tail. It soon became clear as well that he wasn't going to calm down for now. He turned his head to ask what he should do now when he saw Wales grinning widely like an idiot.

"Tha kitty looks cute~" He murmured quietly, obviously not himself. "This is why we should support free love ta all…" The blonde hippy seemed to be still switching from being very sober to very high.

Ireland, on the other hand, was looking at Scotland puzzled with a slight glare. These two would be useless at the moment. England suddenly smirked as an idea came to him. Sure it was slightly cruel but he was going to enjoy his oldest brother's reaction.

"Maybe we should have thy Scotland neutered. It certainly made thine cat calmer." He suggested in a fake innocent voice while grinning a slightly sadistic smirk.

The black cat who was on his back mewing when he heard this, suddenly flipped himself onto is stomach. He had his four legs tucked under his body protectively while his tail and ears were erect in defence. He hissed angrily at the knight, baring his small white sharp teeth.

England laughed slightly. "I art only fooling you, pulling your leg as it were."

Scotland frowned slightly; not happy at being tricked. However it seems the shock of being potentially neutered had calmed him down. For the most part; his regular personality was back. He opened his mouth to talk but only a few meows came out.

"Ah. Seems like he cannae speak 'human' anymoore."

"Verily." England agreed. Scotland looked confused before meowing once. "It seems thou can understand us, Scotland. But we have nary a clue to what art thou say."

The cat sighed heavily. He muttered a grumbly meow, glaring at England.

"I know that art a insult, you knave." England replied, annoyed. Scotland just stuck out his tongue. The knight scowled more before the cat grinned widely, showing small white fangs.

Wales blinked in confusion before leaning down to look at Scotland closer.

"Yer eyes are different, Alba." He spoke softly, clearly surprised.

The cat wrinkled his nose at the stench of weed on Wale's breath. He made a purposely confused mew, attempting to ask 'what?' The hippy understood his brother's intent.

"Yer eyes always stay green when you change forms." The kitten nodded in agreement. That was always the trick to identifying Scotland when he changed forms. "Well, they're really blue now… like tha sky…"

Scotland's eyes widened. England and Ireland were suddenly in front of him instead, with poor Wales being shoved to the side, forgotten.

"Me gawd! They are blue!"

"I nary noticed thy blueish eyes 'til now!"

He ignored them for now. Scotland's blue eyes darted to England's armour and he stood with his two front paws on the steel chest plate. In the reflective steel, he saw a small black cat with soft pointed ears, long fur and large slitted sky-blue eyes.

The eye colour was a little similar to America's but the American's eyes were a bright sapphire blue, these were lighter and softer in colour.

Just like a clear sky on a sunny day. It was funny because these eyes have never seen the day time sky.

Actually, he didn't feel frustrated because of that. He felt proud his eyes were now a sky blue. It was his favourite colour.

Scotland blinked, checking that it was no illusion. He tilted his head to the side and the mirror cat copied. He tilted it to the other side and it repeated again. He looked up at the blonde with his new blue eyes and his head still cocked to the side.

England picked Scotland up off his armour and held him gently, aware that the hard armour might not be comfortable. However, the cat didn't seem to mind the steel. Scotland just laid his head down slightly like he was thinking deeply or content.

England turned to Wales. The hippy had a muddled and confused look as he stared at Scotland's eyes.

"What doth thy cat's new eyes meanth?"

"I dinnae ken… Eye colour ain't meant to change; it's meant ta be a sort of ID fer when ye change intae a new creature. Maeve's eyes are always black in whitevar form she takes fer example. Yer eyes ain't meant ta change unless ye charm them ta look different and that's still just an illusion."

"Maybe that's nae Alba then?" Ireland suggested doubtfully.

The black cat suddenly hissed angrily at the soldier, with large raised hackles.

"I think thee black cat doth say otherwise."

"Well, prove yer Alba then, ye stupid cat!"

The black cat, suddenly leapt at the Irish man, clinging onto the khaki soldier uniform with tiny claws. His hind paws supported most of his weight while his front clothes held onto the auburn's collar. He shook the collar violently in a strange parody of a human threatening someone. He mewed angrily.

"Meow! Meow, meow! Meow, Nyaa!~" Ireland glared at the offending cat.

"I cannae understand ya, eejit!" He yelled back. Somewhere in the party was a muted rumble like something had woken. However it was largely ignored as the rom returned to silence.

The black huffed, suddenly swiping his paw across the soldier's cheek in a punch. Though the result was actually a three parallel claw marks appearing on the man's cheek. Ireland hissed in shock from the pain.

Wales suddenly hollered out, "BITCH SLAP!", and pointed at them. The hippy blinked into reality again moments later. His blood rushed to his cheeks and he ended up just mumbling a pathetic sorry.

"Fucking cat! It certainly has Alba's temper! But tha' doesnae prove a single thing!" He pulled the cat off him by the collar. The kitten fought back aggressively, not liking the way he was being held. After several more scratches to his hand, the cat was quickly shoved back into England's arms.

"If ye bloody wannae prove yer me brother, tell meh something only ye would ken!"

"Nyaa!" The cat protested. Probably about how was he meant to tell them.

"If yer Alba, yer smart enuff ta figure something oot."

Scotland made an hffpt sound before jumping from England's arms across to the food table. The black animal moved about the food briefly, sniffing before finding what he was looking for.

The tomato sauce bottle.

The kitten fumbled with the lid, trying to use both paws to open it before England finally opened it for him. Scotland nodded as a sort of thank you before squeezing it against his body with his front legs and moving around on his hind legs like a human.

It seemed awkward for the cat.

The other two men watched the scene in fascination and confused, unsure to what the cat was attempting. A word appeared on the table from the sauce.

'When.'

The cat continued and more words were written in the red sauce. The men read it as he went along, though it was a slow process.

'When Ireland was 22, he took a girl home from a party. It turned out she actually had an Adam's app~'

Ireland turned scarlet as he realised what was being written.

"ARGH! Alrighty! I believe yer Scotland! I believe yer Scotland!" He grabbed the bottle from the cat's paws which knocked Scotland off balanced. The cat was forced onto all fours again. Ireland was currently busy destroying what was written on the table cloth by ripping the cloth from the table and scrunching it up. Thus Scotland was pushed from the table, along with several bowls of food.

Wales and England watched confused, while Ireland blushed heavily and the black cat laughed loudly at him.

"Did Scotland write that ye took a girl with an Adam's apple home?" The hippy asked meekly, smiling slightly as he finally understood what that meant.

"But isn't thee apple of thy Adam is only found on thy gentleman." England snickered. "You took a wrench home who turned out to be a ma~"

"Shut it! His dress was bonnie! So was his wig!" The two blondes fell into a sea of laughter. "Tha bassa is definitely Scotland!" Ireland muttered angrily, wiping the tomato sauce from his hand and glaring at his brothers, who were just calming down again. "So whit does tha mean if his eyes ainnae tha same but he's still Scottie?"

Wales shrugged. "It cannae be any good…" He mumbled, looking deep in thought before suddenly giggling.

The knight rolled his eyes. England suddenly had a bright idea.

"Thy Finnish guest was thy healer, was he not? A medical practitioner of sorts, I art mean. Thou healer could see to Scotland."

"That's nae tae bad a plan."

"Where art thy healer, then?"

They turned to face the party.

(A/N - So no one has figured out the song? Well to be honest - this one is very difficult. The first real clue is in this chapter. There is a reference to the song's first lines.

Keep guessing though! There will be a prize!

Arthur's cat, Sherlock, may or may not be neutered. Imagine what the answer may be. Though I'm leaning towards poor Sherlock being 'snipped'. With also Merlin and Tully as well. Their owners (England, Wales and Ireland) would not want any baby cats wandering around their house.

North Ireland loves children and babies so he would love kitties. Hence his cat would probably be safe from the vet.

And Aidan is a wild cat. He can't be taken to a vet and he technically is no one's pet because he is classified as a undomesticated animal. Plus he is highly violent towards every other human apart from Scotland. He can never be neutered.

Aiddie probably makes fun of them for it.

REVIEW PLEASE!)