I don't own Hetalia okay? I don't have much else to say here, so enough of this A/N, on with the fic!
"Ah, Feli! Your nonno had told me that you and your cousins would be coming over after the opera tonight, who is this blonde that is escorting your cousins around?" A chef said coming from the back hugging Feliciano.
"Oh that is Alfred, he's Lovina and Felicia's escort tonight. Keeps them safe and from people who may wish them harm." Feliciano said.
"And maybe more than that..." Felicia said as she grabbed Alfred tightly and pulled him closer to her.
"Now, I just went with them at Julius' request." Alfred blushed. "I mean I won't do something selfish and if someone was hassling them, I would make sure nothing happened but I'm not romantically involved with them or like them more than friends..." He said quickly.
"Sure..." Lovina said rolling her eyes. "You have eyes for one of us, men are all the same." She sighed looking around.
"Well, your regular table is over here." The chef said. "Or do you want Feliciano somewhere else?" He added with a wink of the eye that made both Lovina and Alfred roll their eyes in exasperation.
"Si!" Felicia smiled as she pulled Alfred closer. "I want a table to just me, sister and Alfredo here..."
"If it's what the lady wants..." Alfred laughed. He was desperate for this night to be over. He was not a fan of opera, and the girls fighting over him was starting to get on his nerves.
"Oh you know women already. That will serve you well. So many men your age never quite know how to make a young lady happy and feel special." The chef said as he turned. "Come, come..." He said hopping up and down energetically. "I must have you taste some of my new creations, let me know how an Americano would like them. I know the tastes here are not quite the same as back in Italia..." The chef showed them the circular table and moved one of the chairs aside so that each of them would be on one side. Alfred looked over from his seat facing the rear of the restaurant and looking out over what was an empty establishment. "I know your favorites girls, but let me bring out my latest creation for your darling young man." The chef said as he left Alfred with Felicia and Lovina.
"Is it just me or is everyone just obnoxious about us?" Alfred sighed.
"Not just you. I swear if I could just stay by myself, read, maybe paint and listen to some of the operas I like, I'd be happy." Lovina sighed. "But I have my duty as grandpa puts it. Felicia and I are supposed to be the soft face of the group."
"Yeah..." Alfred sighed not knowing what else to say. "That braid looks good on you." He said to Lovina to break the tension.
"Of course you'd think so." Lovina huffed.
Can't even compliment her... Alfred sighed slightly defeated. Either Lovina was being utterly rude to him and couldn't take an honest compliment or Felicia was suffocating him. He just nodded politely the rest of the time while Felicia went on about so many different things, it was hard to keep track. Meanwhile Lovina was simply tapping her fingers on the table, looking disappointed in everything. He looked over to Feliciano who was a few tables over chatting up what looked like to be a waitress. Alfred moaned in exasperation and placed his head on the table.
Patrick and Seamus walked home from the meat packing plant with a sigh. They had to work another very late shift and got off, exhausted from what was a very long 14 hour shift. "What good is a union if we don't get more pay?" Seamus sighed.
"I know, I know..." Patrick sighed. "Hopefully this was just a one time thing..." Seamus looked at him. "You're right. Likely not." He kicked a bottle down the road. "But what are we going to do? We don't have the pub anymore."
"Move to Canada?" Seamus said. "It's what Artie wanted to do right after the war. May have been onto something,"
"Doesn't matter." Patrick said. "We're bugger all. We have nothing to look forward to anymore." He sighed as he looked around. "Between you and me brother, I doubt we're going to make it through Arthur and Alba's crazy idea."
"You thought it was good." Seamus said.
"I'm rethinking things. HOLY SHIT!" He yelled as a truck came speeding by and stopped just at the feet of the Irish brothers. "Bloody hell, what the hell were you thinking?" Patrick yelled as he opened the door to find a man speaking rapid Italian pleading with him. "I have no clue what you are saying! You driving like that, you could kill somebody and I don't have the time nor the patience when I die. Saint Peter will have to wait." he said as he pulled back and punched the driver in the face. "Do you understand me?"
"Take it! Take it all!" The driver said as he ran off, his partner in crime that was sitting in the passenger seat.
"Patrick, what did you do?" Seamus pleaded as he looked at the seats of the truck. "God, they weren't up to something were they?" He noted as he saw the small semi-automatic pistols, a map, a few boxes of ammo, some shotguns and a few switchblades.
"Armed to the teeth and they were scared of an angry Irishman?" Patrick said.
"You think they worked for Julius Vargas?" Seamus asked as he got in the truck.
"Likely." Patrick said climbing into the driver's seat. "I wish I could tell Artie what we got. If we are getting into the bootlegging game ourselves, we practically got a starter kit from Grandpa Rome ourselves! Use that Roman's own tools against him and chase him out like our Celtic ancestors did oh so long ago! Like Saint Patrick did to the snakes himself!"
"Let's get this to Gilbert's place first." Seamus said. "Artie told me that they brokered a deal. Turning that place from a failing soda jerk fountain to a good ol fashioned speakeasy. People don't give him much crap or suspicion like they do us."
"Seamus, come see!" Patrick said as he jumped out of the truck and looked in the back. " Blessed Mother of Mary..." he whispered as he clutched a rosary he held close.
"Aye..." Seamus said.
"We're in business." Patrick smirked. "Now let's see how many people we don't hit on the way over to Gilbert's."
"Well, that's the last I will see tonight. Not a lot of people wanting egg cremes at this time of night..." Gilbert sighed as he headed out of the small soda jerk stand he ran, that was at one time a thriving bar and restaurant when Patrick and Seamus drove by honking the horn of the truck, slamming the brakes in front of him. "What the hell are you two thinking?" Gilbert yelled.
"That it's time for Artie's idea to start unfolding. You have a place we can unload this thing?" Patrick said out the window.
"What the..." Gilbert said. "No fucking way."
"Yes fucking way." Seamus smiled back.
"Kein Scheissen..." Gilbert whispered. "Where did you get all of this?"
Patrick motioned for Gilbert to lean in close. "Accidently held up one of Julius Vargas's trucks."
"How do you accidently truck jack someone?" Gilbert said in a confused whisper.
"Well the drivers nearly hit me." Patrick began. "I was going to rough the fool up a little bit, and the Italian bugger ran off, screaming something in his language and well, left the truck there. I don't feel sorry for him. But this is ours now. If we're going to play this game, we need a few starter pieces, do we not?"
"I guess you're right." Gilbert sighed. "Take it around back." I feel my dead little brother's eyes scorning me now as we speak but from what I have been reading from back home, you would rather be doing something like this kleiner Bruder... "But you two Mickeys are helping me unload that. Any weaponry?" Gilbert asked as Patrick took the truck to the loading bay at the back of the store.
"Why?" Seamus asked.
"Will need some protection." Gilbert said. "If that is one of Julius Vargas's trucks, then I am assuming it has some guns and other weaponry. That will be my payment for now until sales begin. I had to hock the old Mauser I brought with me."
"There's some. I have one of the pocket pistols with me." Seamus said as they walked back behind the alleyway to where Patrick had parked the truck.
"Nein, nein, das kleine Ding ist zu schwach." Gilbert said, knowing there may be some prying ears.
"What the hell did you say kraut?" Patrick said.
"No, a pocket pistol would be too weak." Gilbert said. "Ah here we go. May not be one of the ones that terrorized my brother in the trenches but it will do. And I think I'll take a few of those switch blades too..." He said as he grabbed the shotgun and some shells and a few knives. "Now start loading you two."
"God, our work is never done." Seamus said.
"After 14 hours at the plant..." Patrick moaned.
"Just think of it this way," Gilbert smiled. "You're investing in your future. A little hard work and sacrifice now and you and all your Limey brothers will be living like Julius and his Dummkopf grandchildren in no time." He said as he unloaded the shotgun and looked down the barrel with what little light he could get from the street lights. "Looks like it is in good condition. I can use that if his gang makes their way here trying to get me to pay them protection."
"They asked you for that?" Patrick asked, as worry that Julius was already setting stakes in the area of Chicago they were going to be working.
"Nein." Gilbert assured them. "But I have friends down in the south side. I hear things." He then cocked the gun back. "But I am already working with your brother to save this place. I don't need two gangs hassling me." He looked up. "Keep the weapons with me but ditch that in the lake, drive it off a pier, wreck it something, I am sure this will get back to the big Caesar and he will be pissed. If he can't find the truck, he won't know where to start looking."
"Not a bad idea..." Seamus said.
Julius sat in his study, reading books about the Roman conquests of old and thinking of how he was in a way, living up to the old tradition that ran in his blood. Legends of great warriors and generals dating back to Antiquity. He was just simply using new means to get what he wanted. If playing by the rules did not get you what you needed, simply cross the Rubicon and go further than you are allowed. In his case, run rackets, sell illegal booze and make sure the people who could cause you harm loved you or were bought off so it was all yours. "Sir, I have a devastating report."
"Come in Giovanni." Julius said, tone darkening.
"I have Luigi and Armando. They have some bad news." Giovanni said as he shoved them in front of Julius."
"What is it?" Julius said as he pulled a gun from his desk and cocked it.
"Please! Be merciful! Some Irishman beat us and stole our trucks!" Luigi pleaded.
"You didn't try to fight back? Any shots fired?"
"No, we ran!" Armando pleaded.
"You had weapons, guns knives and you still ran?" Julius said as the two drivers looked down in shame. "Shame. I would have been more merciful if you had attempted to fight back but getting beat up by a few dumb Micks?" Julius said as he closed his eyes and shot the gun, causing the two drivers to fall to the ground dead. "Dispose of them. I have no use for weakness in my organization. This is a dangerous game we play. I want that truck found. Thank the heavens my grandchildren are out. And I may need Alfredo more now after all.
Translation Guide:
(obtained via Google Translate)
nonno- Italian-Grandfather
Kein Scheissen...-German-No fucking shit
kleiner Bruder-German-little brother
Nein, nein, das kleine Ding ist zu schwach.-German-No, no no, that little thing is too weak.
Dummkopf-German-idiot
So how was that? Good? Bad? Short? Long? Let me know in a review. Mickey and Mick are old insults for Irishmen. Anyway, other than that, remember to read (well you just did) and review. Ciao for now,
otherrealmwriter
aka
Realm.