Title: Mafia Connections

Pairing: Romano x Hungary

Rating: T

"Man, I'm so awesome!" Gilbert said as he stared at himself in the back of a spoon. He gave an appreciative whistle, then turned to Elizaveta and said, "Don't I just look really hot right now?"

Elizaveta- or Eliza, as her friends called her -smiled, though it looked more like a grimace. "Sure," she answered. "A little bit, I suppose."

Gilbert frowned at her, then ran a hand through his white-ish hair, mussing it spectacularly. His red eyes narrowed and his pale, pinkish lips pouted at her. "What, only a little bit? I think I'm pretty awesome! More awesome even then you, I think!"

The corners of Eliza's mouth turned down at this. Did he think that this arrogance made him more attractive? She hoped not, for his sake.

"What would be awesome is for you to shut up," she said lightly, with a friendly smile. He blinked at her in surprise, and she reached out and grabbed her iced tea, sipping it smugly. Hah! He thought he was so cool... He would soon find that NO ONE was cooler than she herself was.

"What... me... awesomely shut up? I can't shut up and be awesome at the same time!"

Eliza raised a questioning eyebrow. "Are you completely certain? Because I feel like that would be more awesome then listening to your voice."

Oh snap, said Eliza's inner voice. You is a sass MASTER, gurl!

Eliza felt that she was probably spending too much time online, if her grammar was deteriorating to that level, but she couldn't quite help herself.

"What?! Don't diss my awesome voice!" Gilbert leaned over the table and squinted at her. "Or are you just playing around...? Do you think I'm awesome but are just too shy to say?"

Eliza snorted violently. "Puh-lease. I don't think you're awesome. At all."

Gilbert pouted. "Well, why the hell not? I am awesome! I am awesome like beer!"

"I prefer vodka," Eliza said icily.

That was the last straw for Gilbert. First, his stupid blind date had said that he wasn't awesome; then she had said that she preferred vodka instead of beer? Now THIS was something he could NOT stand for.

"That's it!" Gilbert stands up, slamming his hands down on the countertop rather angrily. Eliza takes a sip of iced tea, eyelids at half-mast. She clearly couldn't give less of a fuck, which makes Gilbert even angrier than before.

"I've had enough of you! You're a stupid little girl, and I can't believe I let my friends talk me into going out with you!"

Eliza snorts, getting to her own feet, eyes narrowed in anger. "Oh yeah? You think I'M bad? At least I'm not some narcissistic, arrogant little prick who can't even hold a decent conversation!"

Gilbert's mouth falls open in surprise, and he just stares at Eliza, who's giving him a look that... that... that's actually really, really hot.

Eliza lets out a sigh, then sits back down in the booth their sitting at, somehow managing to kick her feet up on the table. Suddenly she looks like a Mafia boss or something, and Gilbert starts to get a bit nervous.

"Don't tell me you're starting to get attracted to be, Gilbert Beilschmidt." she says. She picks up a fork and takes a bite of salad, stabbing the lettuce a bit harder than is quite necessary. Gilbert swallows, glancing towards the door.

"I didn't come all this way here to get insulted by some stuck-up albino German just to have him get attracted to me all of a sudden. Oh no, Gilbert, if we are going to fight, we are going to fight."

"Wh-what do you mean-" Gilbert starts, but suddenly Eliza's standing on top of the table, one foot pressing his face into the plastic-covered table-top. The other patrons of the restaurant have, at this time, ceased all movement. Some of them haven't even put down their food-filled forks; they are suspended in midair, looking lonely, while their owners stare in shock as the petite girl with the long brown hair and the friendly smile completely owns the loud-mouthed albino.

"What I mean is," Eliza says calmly, "that I want to take this outside."

"Well too motherfucking bad," says a voice. Eliza turns to see a man standing in front of the table, holding a wooden spoon covered in red pasta sauce.

"What do you mean?" Eliza asks, still annoyingly (in Gilbert's opinion) calm.

"I mean," says the guy, pouting lips turning up in a smirk, "that I can use this spoon for more than just cooking."

Silence.

"Are you threatening me?" Eliza asks, a smile curling her lips.

The man shrugs. "Maybe just a bit." He licks some of the sauce from the spoon, and Eliza realizes that he's a badass. She lifts her foot off of Gilbert's head (who sits up, swearing venomously and rubbing at his face) and jumps off the table. She and the man are mostly the same height, though he has maybe an inch or so on her. He has dark hair and brown-green-gray eyes, and a strange curl sticking out from the left side of his head. His face is a careful blank, and his eyes betray no fear. His body language stays completely relaxed and at ease.

And that's when Eliza realizes that this guy... has Mafia connections.

"We should go for a walk outside," Eliza tells him, a smirk curving her lips. He shrugs, setting his wooden spoon on the table she just recently vacated.

"Why not?" he says, and then they both walk out.

Deep inside the bowels of the kitchen, a man who looks extraordinarily like the one with the spoon notes that his brother has left. He walks to the door that connects the kitchen and the dining area just in time to see his older brother leaving with Eliza. He sighs dreamily, then murmurs something about young love.

After a couple minutes, Gilbert leaves, and the guests slowly, slowly go back to normal.

A/N Okaaaaaay, so I literally have NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT WAS GOING ON WITH THIS FIC. O_O Like literally. I have no idea. NO IDEA. *God voice* NO IDEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

I just... don't even know.

Anyways, this was requested by Alfred's Elevator, and I'm sorry it turned out... weird... instead of romantic. O_O I literally just... I don't even know. So yeah.