Sorry it's late! I had homework... T_T But to compensate (briefly, at least), let's consider the following:

Gintama Chapter 33: Be Careful of Belt Conveyers
Gintama Chapter 51: Life Moves like a Conveyor Belt

No? Um, I could mention that "I found the Turkey but it's covered in a layer of Greece" thing on my profile... Or a physics joke? Still no? Oh gosh, I'm scared. x.x

Well, in any case, there's still the chapter below, which you can enjoy... I hope.

And if you thought this coming late was bad enough, just wait until you get to the end. Oh ho ho.

Italy and Romano exchanged looks. Slowly Romano held out the phone. Italy took it back. "Holy shit," Romano breathed. "I'm screwed, aren't I?"

"Ve… Maybe he just wants to say congratulations!" Italy suggested. Romano facepalmed. "Well, I'm sure it can't hurt just to talk to him…"

"Ha! Not on your life! Dio mio…" Romano slumped against the wall. "How long is he gonna yell at me this time…"

He turned around. Italy was punching buttons on his cell phone. "Hey! Listen when I'm talking to you!"

Spain blinked as the dial tone droned on. What on earth had just happened? There'd been a lot of yelling and scuffling, and then a huge splash and a burst of static… He gasped. Of course! Russia must've gone into Kol Mode and blown up the restrooms! He frantically dialed Romano's number again but a recording told him in an annoying voice that it wasn't available. (Dang, he had no idea that lady sounded so bitchy when the phone company hired her.) He tried again. Bitchy voice. And again. Bitchy voice. He hung up, waited a few minutes, and tried one last time. Bitchy voice again (arrrrrgh!). groaning in frustration, he replaced the receiver on its cradle. That Soviet bastard was in for it now…

He'd just devised a battle plan against said Soviet bastard when his cell phone rang. Spain turned his head. It was all the way on the other side of the room, in the pocket of his coat. Sprawled in a crumpled heap on the chair. A good two metres away from the bed. Which he didn't want to leave.

"Dios, no, don't do this to me," he whimpered as the sound of Romano's "I want breakfast!" ten-minute challenge filled the air. He wouldn't get up! He couldn't get up! But Chibi Romano's voice persisted, and the more he ignored it the more ridiculous it was starting to sound…

"I saw a midget! I saw a midget!"

He ducked under the covers and pretended to be deaf.

But wait—what if it was Lovi?

Spain glanced resignedly at the chair. It had to be done. With a groan, he sat up and threw aside the sheets. Instantly the room started spinning and swaying beneath his feet. He slowly groped his way over, clumsily fished the phone out of his pocket, and crawled back into bed, holding back his urge to throw up. Then, putting on a cheerful front: "Lovi~~~~"

"Ve! Spain-niichan! How are you doing? Do your nipples feel weird? What kinds of food have you been craving? Is your tummy getting big yet? Ve, ve, can I touch it? Ve~~~~—"

Before Spain had a chance to reply, Italy was pushed aside (very roughly, too, from the sound of it) and he heard Romano rebuking his brother. "Damn it, Veneziano, why'd you have to call him again?"

"Lovi! You're okay!" he said. "Thank goodness!"

"Of course I'm okay. Veneziano flushed my cell phone down the toilet. A-anyway, I should p-probably go…"

"He did? How'd he manage to do that?" Spain giggled in relief. So it wasn't some Russian terrorist attack then, though that might've been kind of fun to clean up afterwards. (Especially when it came to confronting the one who started the mess.) His brow furrowed. "Lovi, what's wrong? You sound really upset."

"Of course I'm upset, dumbass! I-I just lost my phone!"

"No, I mean that other kind of upset. Like… like you got into trouble and you're trying to hide it." He smirked at the stunned silence that followed. "So? What is it? It's okay, you can tell me, you know."

"Wh—wh—wh—" Spain could almost hear Romano's face turning red, blood threatening to explode from his face like steam from a kettle. "Wh-what the heck are you yammering about? I most certainly am not hiding anything! A-and you'd better not ask again, or—or I'll make Veneziano ask you more embarrassing questions!" The Italian huffed angrily. "So there!"

"But Lovi, it's not healthy to keep everything bottled up inside… you'll get hemorrhoids…"

"Like hell I will! I'm not telling you, and that's that!"

"Aww, fine… But if you ever do have a problem—not that you do—I'm just saying—if that were to happen, just know that I'll always be there for y—eek!" Spain gasped.

"Spain? What happened?" cried Romano.

"Hahahahahahahaha! I-it's nothing! Um, I've g-got to hang up now, t-talk to you later!" There was a click as Spain disconnected.

Romano handed the phone back to Italy. "Bastard," he muttered. "He lectures me on hiding my problems, and then he goes and keeps something from me as well…"

"Ve, but I didn't get to ask him anything!" Italy whined. "Nii-chan, can I call him again?"

"Absolutely not! Don't bother him with your retarded questions!"

"But—"

"No! Go back to the meeting!"

"Ve..."

Vatican City stared at the receiver in disbelief. Had Lovino just…? He had! He'd gone and hung up on the one who was just trying to help him back on the right path! (Not that Lovino had ever been on the right path…) He paced around in the room. What was he to do? He had to talk to Lovino somehow or other.

This called for drastic measures.

Vatican City grabbed his coat. "I'm going to visit a friend, Benny," he said. "I might be back late."

"All right," said the Pope. "And please, my name is not Benny."

Spain's eyes darted from Dr. Lorca to the strange person standing beside him, and back again. She was a young woman, about medium height, with grey eyes and reddish blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. Like Dr. Lorca, she was clad in a white doctor's coat. A bag was slung over her shoulder—Spain heard something inside rattle when she shifted her weight. Goodness knew what strange medical contraptions she was keeping in there. But that wasn't what unnerved him. No, what really put him on edge was that, despite not looking a single bit like her, this doctor kept reminding him of his hermana. It might've been the way she walked, or maybe just her general impression, but in any case all Spain could feel were Portugal-vibes and he was terrified.

Darn it, he should've pretended to be asleep when they came in here!

"Señor Carriedo, this is my colleague, Dr. Lucia Garcia Villanueva," Dr. Lorca explained. "She's an obstetrician from the other side of town. I'll be consulting with her throughout your pregnancy."

Dr. Villa-what's-her-name (Spain was too preoccupied with her uncanny likeness to Portugal) smiled. "Hello, Señor Carriedo."

Spain tried not to let any of his unease show on his face. That would be kind of rude. "H-hi," he replied. Well, consulting was fine. As long as she didn't come anywhere near him.

"Dr. Villanueva will give you a checkup before you go home today," Dr. Lorca continued. Spain thought his heart stopped for a moment.

What? Nooooo! She's scary! Don't do this to meeeeeee! Oh god, the only thing worse than this would be if Hermana herself did it!

Dr. Villanueva looked at him worriedly as he started trembling. "Señor Carriedo, are you all right?"

"Ahaha, ha… Y-yes, I'm f-f-fine!" He forced a smile.

"Well, okay…" She opened her bag and pulled out a pair of gloves. "We'll start with the pelvic exam, then~"

Spain's smile faded. Now he wasn't fine.

"I'm so glad you came to save me, Lovi~~~" Spain sniffled as Romano carried him upstairs. "Did you see how scary she was? Somehow she keeps making me think of Hermana! I've never been happier to come home!" He threw his arms around Romano's neck in an attempted hug.

"Ow! Don't move like that all of a sudden, you'll throw me off balance—aaaah!" He flinched as Spain lifted himself and kissed him on the cheek. "Get—down! Sheesh! Don't do that!" He laid him gently on his bed. "I didn't see any resemblance. Maybe they use the same shampoo or something."

Spain's mouth fell open. "Oh! That could be it! It certainly explains why she's less scary at a distance…"

"No, I'm pretty sure that's just an ordinary response," Romano replied, pulling the covers over him. "Don't get up, okay?"

"Okay~ But first…" Spain reached his arms out. Romano groaned, then grudgingly leaned in and hugged him. "And now that I've told you what's bothering me," he whispered in the Italian's ear, "will you tell me what's bugging you?"

Romano stiffened. "I told you, there's nothing wrong. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to make dinner. Try not to hurt yourself." He tried to straighten up but Spain tightened his grip.

"But I want Lovi to stay here! It's so lonely being by myself! Pleeeeeeease?" He gave Romano a puppy-dog look. Romano sighed.

"Maybe afterwards. Aren't you hungry?"

Spain's eyes lit up. "Ooh! Yes! Paella?"

Romano smirked. Victory! "Then I'll be right back." Before Spain could change his mind, he stood up. "And remember, 'bed rest' means you're supposed to stay in bed. So you'd better be in this very spot when I come back, do you hear?" he said sternly.

Spain smiled innocently. "Yes, Lovinito~"

"Good." Romano went downstairs. Antonio seemed to be in an awfully good mood today. Maybe it was all that chocolate he pilfered from Dr. Lorca. But Romano didn't mind; it made him a lot easier to handle than the moping, puking mess he'd been at the clinic. Heck, he might even let the tomato bastard have the rest of those chocolates he'd confiscated, just to humor him.

He was just scooping the rice into a plate when the phone rang. Grumbling about telemarketers and the things he would do if he ever saw one in the street, he dropped the pan and went to answer it. "What?" he snapped.

"Ve, ve, Nii-chan! Help meeeeee! It's terrible! Vatican City's at the door! Ve, what do I do? I'm so scared!" He started crying. "Doitsu said just let him in, but he's got that look on his face oh my gosh he's going to boss me around again, veeeeeeeeee! Save meeeeeee!"

"Geez, Veneziano! Calm down!" Then it hit him. "Wait, who?"

"V-V-Vatican C-City…"

Romano's heart skipped a beat. Oh hell! That old bozo was determined to hunt him down, wasn't he! "U-u-um," he stammered. Run! his instincts told him. Corri! Vamos! Échappe! 走る! Meanwhile, Italy was still sniffling and whimpering. Romano gritted his teeth. No, there was enough running. That senile old fool would find him sooner or later, anyways. "Hang on, Feli," he said, and Italy stopped hiccoughing at the use of his human name. "Go and make some tea or coffee or something. And let that moron in.

"I'm heading over."

If you haven't checked out the Romano Wants Breakfast 10-minute challenge on Youtube, go see it! :D

By the way, Spainloid died. So I tried to make a replacement with my own voice. It sounded like Russia instead, so now I refuse even to work on it. For a while, at least. Soviet invasion ftw D:

Tsk, this seemed more like a filler chapter. But that's precisely what it had to be, because...

THIS FIC IS HEREBY ON HIATUS UNTIL JUNE.

Yup. Sorry, guys. It's exam time for us (not so) hardworking IB students and I am going to PWN those STUPID MATH EXAMS and RUB MY 6/7 IN THE MATH TEACHER'S FACE. TAKE THAT, [insert teacher's name here]. So... yeah. Once again, my deepest apologies! x_x

See you all in June, hopefully. Thanks for reading. Bye for now! REVIEWWWWW :3