Find the Straight Guy

Rating: T

Warning: Look at the title; this level of sensual themes, cussing, and craziness is not for the weak.

Info Line: The Bad States Quartet has to find the straight nation. CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. *Crack/Omake added*

I found a picture on zerochan that inspired me. The instant I saw it I was like, "I NEED TO WRITE A FIC FOR THIS!" This will be slightly cracky, so be prepared. I don't own Hetalia, just my OC!States!

EDIT: I added an Omake based on some information that I recently relearned and can't believe I forgot about. Enjoy!

XXX

The Bad States Quartet sat around the circular table, staring at the picture that lay innocently on the center.

"This is it huh?" Florida said, taking a swig of Corona beer.

"Yup," California's deep blue eyes were steely. "This is what I found."

"This is a…interesting group of nations," New York said slowly, sipping her coffee, which was from one of the best coffee houses in California. There was no way New York would drink the watered down crap that had sadly become all too familiar nationwide.

"I'm not surprised that he's on there," Louisiana commented, "he's about as straight as Perez Hilton."

"Don't be hatin' on Perez," California shot back, flipping her long golden hair, "and take a look at who's right there." One manicured finger tapped a spot on the photo.

The other states peered over the photo to look at where California had indicated, "Leon, Francesca's got you there." Florida chuckled.

"Touché, ma chérie," Louisiana purred once he had gotten a look.

"As for me," New York absently said, fingering one long lock of loosely cured dark auburn brown hair, "I wonder why this one was put on here." She nodded in the direction of one person who was on the far left.

Florida snorted, "'Cause, Nikki, he's obviously that one's bitch," he stabbed a finger at the person that seemed to be hovering over the other person in the photo.

"Maybe he's bi," Louisiana said with a predatory smile.

"He's your type?" California asked incredulously.

"You know his type Francesca," Florida smirked, "it's anyone that moves."

Louisiana ran a hand through his tousled Sunflower Blond© hair and looked affronted. "Mon cher Rafael, I have a more discerning taste than you think I have."

"Getting back on topic," New York stated.

"You sound like Delaware," California teased.

New York glared at her younger sister, who instantly shut up. After all, you didn't want to get on New York's bad side something New Jersey hadn't learned yet. "Anyway, do you want to do this?"

"Duh!" California yelled. "This has the possibility to be as cool as that one time Nevada got Delaware totally wasted and he ended up doing a lap dance for Massachusetts."

Nikki smirked. "He didn't come out of his house for a week after that happened."

"He should've done that to me," Leon sighed dreamily.

"This will be even better then a lap dance from England," Florida promised, his messy black hair shining under the light. "But still, imagine what we'll have to do to find out who's straight." His smile promised many, many dirty things.

Louisiana looked enraptured. "Go on Florida," he said, pupils dilating, "Go on."

"Well, you know how…hard these kinds of nuts can be to crack. Just imagine this guy—" he pointed to one person "—wearing nothing but an apron. That's probably what we're gonna have to do to figure out who's straight."

The Bayou State convulsed and fell out of his chair, lying prostrate on the ground.

New York raised an eyebrow as she sat down with a refilled coffee cup. "What happened?"

"Louisiana jizzed and fell over," California dead-panned.

"Oh." It was clear that the three of them were used to the France-like antics. "Anyway, are we all up for this mission?"

"I found the picture. I'm SO in," California put her hand in the middle of the table.

"Anything that keeps me away from the Casey Anthony trial is good enough for me," Florida clapped his hand over California's.

"Sure," New York grinned and put her hand over Florida's. "This can be the perfect summer fun."

Popping up from the ground, Louisiana placed his hand over New York's. "Imagine how we can find out who the straight guy is. Also, I need an escape from…you know." His eyes dimmed at the memories of the oil spill.

"Come on Bad States Quartet," California flashed a dazzling grin that enhanced her perfect tan, "let's find the straight guy. We have some nations to crack."

WHO IS IT?

Suspect #1: America

"Tell me again. Why are we dressed like spies and hiding at McDonalds?" New York asked as they stalked a certain blond around San Francisco.

California looked at New York like she was an idiot. "Catch Antonio with Romano, catch Alfed with McDonalds."

Louisiana pulled at his trench coat. "That still doesn't explain why we're dressed like members of the Secret Service."

"'Cause we're in San Francisco," Florida said, "It's common knowledge Leon."

"I don't get why Dad would have his straightness doubted," New York commented, expertly creeping around the corner of a building to avoid being seen. "Compared to some people in that picture, he's as straight as an arrow."

"Remember the Cold War?" California grinned and dove inside a slide as America came whistling out of the building. "I swear Daddy and Ivan had sexual tension."

"Oh GOD," Louisiana proclaimed dramatically, "the sexual tension!" He ended up getting dirty looks from a mother and a father who were going to have to explain that particular term to their young son.

"And let's not forget about Francis," pointed out Florida. "After all, who gave Dad his Statue of Liberty?"

Louisiana snickered evilly, "And may I also mention Angleterre? I bet you anything there was a reason he dressed up Dad in nightgowns." He dodged a renegade ball from the small ball house and got out of the Play Place.

California nodded and followed Louisiana out of there. "You have a point. Remember when Arthur got really sick and Daddy went to see him?"

"How could I forget?" New York sighed. "A few days after that I found Arthur in a pub in New York City and he was on his 5th drink."

"Well," Florida rubbed his head, "are there any girls that like him?"

"A genderbent Arthur," California smiled. She tiptoed to an office building and, in true sitcom style, peered around the corner, with New York and Florida looking above her and Louisiana peeking out underneath her.

"I'm serious," Rafael's blue-green eyes emanated determination, "on this God-forsaken Earth, there's gotta be a girl."

"How about Elizaveta?"

"No way," New York shook her head. "I don't care if they're divorced—Roderich and Elizaveta still have chemistry."

"I don't knooow…didn't she used to be involved with Sa—?"

Louisiana smacked his siblings on the head and pointed to where America was. The nation had just pulled out his cell phone and was making a call. The states all jostled into position to hear the call.

"Heeeey Artie, its meeeeeee~!" America listened to reply before responding with, "Aww, don't be like that. Listen, I found some of your favorite movies on DVD and I was wondering if you wanted to have a movie night." The pause lasted for two seconds. "But Aaaaaartieeeeee," he whined, pulling a puppy-dog face, "I thought you liked Harry Potter." The pause lasted for fifteen seconds. "Awesome!" America laughed, "I knew you would come around. So, my place at eight this Sunday?" The grin, to the states' disbelief, had turned coy. "Sweet! See you there Artie." He listened to England's response with a humorous, "Fine, would you prefer Artie or Iggy?"

The reply was so loud that the states, who were on the other side of the street, were able to hear, "NEITHER, YOU BLOODY TOSSER!"

Nikki tapped her siblings on the shoulder and beckoned them to follow her. The states silently slinked away towards Chinatown.

The talkative vendor handed them bowls of steaming broth and charged them "only sixteen dolla". California paid the man (they were in her house after all) and they sat down on a bench with a carved dragon headboard and started to eat in silence.

"So," Louisiana said at last, "is Dad straight?"

"I have no fucking idea," groaned Florida. "Damn, I need a beer."

"Try coffee," New York raised an eyebrow.

California put a hand behind her head to answer Leon's question. "I mean, I have seen him flirt with pretty girls at the beach. But…it's a bit hard to figure out whether he's flirting with Arthur."

"Either way," New York said, "I don't think he's completely straight." She took the picture that California pulled out and consulted it. "So," she looked up with a smirk, "onto our next suspect?"

WHO IS IT?

Suspect #2: North Italy

"He's not straight!" Florida yelled right off the bat.

"Keep it down," New York hissed as California leaped across the table of the café they were sitting at in Venice to clap a hand over her brother's mouth.

"Don't!" Francesca whispered, looking around to see if anyone had heard. Luckily, the patrons were busy eating, arguing, laughing, or making out. To be honest, California had no idea how two people could kiss like that for five minutes and not fall out of their chairs.

"Safe," Louisiana whispered, winking at the cute waitress who came over to refill his wine glass.

California uncovered Florida's mouth and leaned back in her seat. "Thank God," she muttered. She shot a glare at Florida. "If Romano heard you say that he would unleash the Mafia on you!"

"Why?"

"Because I came here on the pretense of visiting him!" California hissed. "If Romano found out that I came here to investigate him and his brother, he'd go all 'seductive Italian' on me!"

"Romano turns seductive when he's mad?" Louisiana had a dreamy smile on his face.

California blushed and looked away, "Not when he's angry—ok, yes, when he's angry, but only with women…and also when he…feels like it…or when he…wants to mess with me…"

"That's what you get for growing up with South Italy," murmured New York whilst hiding a smile.

"Getting back to his adorably fuckable little brother…" Louisiana took a bite of his spaghetti pomodoro, "Why are you so sure he's not straight?"

"Hel-looo, haven't you seen him hanging around Ludwig?" Florida bit off a bite of fish. "I'm expecting him to unknowingly molest the poor guy any day now…oh wait—he does."

"I've seen Feliciano flirt with a ton of girls over the years," California pointed out.

"Doesn't mean he's straight," Florida pointed out.

"Vee~ Ciao ladies, lovely day isn't it?" The states turned around to behold Italy himself, smiling charmingly at a small group of giggling girls near the café.

Standing next to him was Germany, who looked as though he would give all the beer in the world to be out of there. "Feliciano, we've been talking to them for half an hour," he ground out with his teeth, "we really should be getting on."

"Of course Doitsu!" Italy latched onto his arm while some girls fawned over the cuteness of the scene. "Ve~ let's go back to my house and make some lasagna together!" he noticed California sitting at a café a few yards away from him, and grinned broadly, as if all his prayers had been answered. "Ve~ Francesca!"

California was suddenly knocked off her chair and sent sprawling onto the ground as an overly exuberant Italian proceeded to hug the living daylights out of her. "Fe-Feliciano!" she exclaimed, aware that some of the girls were looking at her with jealousy, "I'm very…happy to see you, but you're kinda…squishing me…"

"Sorry!" he spryly leapt off her and offered a hand. She took his hand and felt herself be pulled up like a Disney princess. "It's so good to see you! Ve~!" he winked at her while swooping in to kiss her on both cheeks.

"It's good to see you too," California said, a light blush sprinkling her cheeks. "Hola Ludwig."

"Hello Francesca," he nodded, "you are here to visit I presume?"

"Yes, I came with my siblings," she waved a hand at the states, who waved back, with the exception of Louisiana, who winked flirtatiously at him, "to visit Romano."

Germany grimaced when he was winked at. "I see."

"Vee~? You're not here to visit me?" Italy looked so hurt that the girls glared at California as if they were considering third degree murder.

"Of course not, Feliciano!" California's deep blue eyes shone with kindness. "I decided to kill two birds with one stone—"

"You killed two innocent birds!" Italy wailed, starting to flail his arms around. This was madness! What was happening to his dear, beautiful California! Did England place a curse on her!

"No, no," she quickly soothed him, "it's an expression. It means to accomplish two things with one."

"Ooooooh. Go on then!"

"I decided to kill two birds with one stone and visit you both!" California shot him with a dazzling smile.

"Ve~! Hooray!" Italy cheered and latched onto Germany. "Stop by sometime Francesca, and we'll make something nice. In the meantime, Doitsu and I are going off to buy gelato!"

"Wait, Feliciano, I thought you said we—"

"I changed my mind Ludwig," Feliciano looked up at him with his cutest smile. "Besides, I want Doitsu to experience some of the best gelato in the wooooorld!"

"…Fine."

Italy didn't need to be asked twice and instantly started dragging Germany away. "Bye, bella!" he called out to Francesca before they were out of sight.

New York watched them go as California collapsed in her seat. "Bisexual with heterosexual tendencies?" she asked, watching Italy leave.

California pulled out the picture she had hidden underneath her plate. "Definitely."

WHO IS IT?

Suspect #3: Germany

Florida gawked. "You don't think that that uptight, strict German is straight?"

"This, from the man who yelled to the whole of Venice that you doubted Feliciano's straightness," Nikki peeked around the corner of a plaza to behold Italy jabbering away to Germany, who didn't seem to mind, at a mile a minute.

"But—I—seriously—oh, come on! It's Italy!"

"Still," Louisiana rubbed his hands together, "if we find out Ludwig's bi, or even gay (but I doubt that), then that means I have a chance!"

California smiled teasingly. "Never knew Germans were on your list of nationalities to screw."

"They're right behind Italians."

"Wait a minute," New York consulted the picture, "Speaking of Germans, I just realized something. Prussia's not on here."

Florida glanced at California. "He shouldn't be. After all, don't he and California have somethin' goin' on?"

"Wh-what makes you say that?" California's eyes widened as she became very interested in Italy's shirt all of a sudden.

"Remember when the Bad Touch Trio took care of you when you were sick?" Florida's smirk was as big as a Texas barbeque.

"That was purely because Papa Antonio wanted to take care of me!"

"Shut up!" hissed Louisiana. "Hot German and Fuckable Italian at twelve o'clock! Cacher!"

New York disappeared into a store at the plaza while Florida ducked underneath an umbrella at an outdoor café and proceeded to order a beer. Louisiana had a feral smirk as he watched California look around frantically and beckoned to her.

"Chérie, I have the perfect solution for how to hide."

"How?"

He answered her with a shove into the wall.

"Leon! What are you—?"

"Shh…" he put a finger to her lips while his other hand rested on the wall next to her head. "We'll look like a couple to avoid attention." His eyes, the same blue shade as the Gulf of Mexico, twinkled in mischief. California remembered when they had changed to oil black during the tragic oil spell.

"I-I guess that could work Leon, but—" her mouth was then captured by Louisiana's.

"Aw, look Ludwig!" Italy pointed in delight at (what looked like to be) the couple. "Aren't they cute?"

"Don't point Feliciano," Germany chose to answer his question with a completely non-related response.

"Ve~ Yes Ludwig." He put his finger down and continued to look at Louisiana and California with a silly smile on his face. "Have you ever wanted to kiss anyone Ludwig?"

It was really lucky Germany had swallowed his bite of gelato; otherwise, Feliciano would've been calling Prussia for lessons in CPR to revive him. "Uh…well…I…don't know," he finished, mentally banging his head on a desk.

"Ludwig always kisses me when I ask him to!"

Germany did not have an answer for that.

New York giggled and watched from the safety of the store as the two nations (one chatting, one starting to turn red) walked away from the plaza and started walking down the street. She signaled to Florida, who ducked out of the café, proudly toting a beer, and then watched in undisguised amusement as Louisiana pulled away from California.

"Thank you very much my dear," he whispered huskily into her ear. "We were pretty convincing, no?"

California glared at the handsome Bayou State. "Before you engage my lips in combat," she whispered as they walked over to Nikki and Rafael, "a warning would be nice."

Louisiana winked. "Of course, but don't be surprised if I don't warn you."

"So," Florida greeted them, "how was the make out session?"

"Wonderful."

"Out of nowhere."

Florida looked at Germany. "Opinions?"

"He's just denying his love for Feliciano," Louisiana said matter-of-fact. "I mean, come on, he's always flustered when he talks about kissing or hugging or sex or anything like that."

"Doesn't he have those dirty magazines?" Florida nodded knowledgeably.

"Good point…" New York consulted the picture.

"If you ask me," California said, "he's too straight to be bi but too bi to be straight."

"That can be said for a lot of people on this," New York mused to herself. "Anyway, I think we can call him as such for now until further notice. Who's next?"

California snatched up the picture and smirked. "Who's up for a trip to Rome?"

WHO IS IT?

Suspect #4: South Italy

"I gotta admit Francesca your history with Romano comes in handy."

California smiled as she took a sip of wine. "I grew up with him Rafael. To be honest, I'm more close to Romano than I am with Feliciano."

They were sitting at an outdoor café in Rome facing the Trevi Fountain, watching as numerous tourists came up to take pictures and generally gaze in awe at the historical architecture that was Rome.

"Have you ever met Roman Empire?" a curious New York asked.

"No." California shook her head. "Although…I had this dream once that this extremely handsome man dressed as a Roman emperor hugged me and thanked me for being there for Romano." She smiled peacefully. "It was one of the best dreams I've had."

"I can't wait to see if Romano indeed goes "seductive Italian" on you." If they didn't know any better, Louisiana was drooling. There went the sweet moment.

"Take a picture Leon, it'll last longer." Florida snorted into his beer.

"I'm amazed that you can drink beer all the time and not get drunk," New York shook her head in disbelief.

"I was raised by both Antonio and Francis. I can hold my liquor." Florida twirled his fork in his plate of spaghetti. "I wish I could say the same thing for Derek."

California cackled, "Lap dance to Massachusetts."

"Vaffanculo, tomato bastard!" a certain grumpy Italian stomped ahead of a pleading Spaniard, who was holding a tomato in his hand.

"But Loviiii, you said you wanted the tomato!"

"I did until you put it in your mouth and told me to bite off a piece of it!"

New York choked on her chicken alfredo, grabbed the wine bottle, and filled up her glass.

"Oh no," Florida murmured nonchalantly, "that doesn't sound dirty at all."

California was holding her laughter, but the quivering of her shoulders gave it away, that and the crazy grin that was threatening to break through.

Louisiana was off in his fantasies of what Spain could have possibly meant. "Yes, that's it, a little bit further…"

"Stop following me! Che palle!" Romano was heading their way, brushing past the group of tourists with a "damn tourists". When he walked past the states' table, he stopped, turned around, and did a double take. "Francesca…" his eyes changed from irritated to warm and his face relaxed, a charming smile now in place.

California smiled back. "Romano."

He walked over and held her hand to his mouth, not taking his eyes off her as he kissed it. "I was wondering when you were coming to visit."

"I decided to make a small side trip to Venice to see your brother. But trust me—" she winked "—you're the main event."

Well, if that didn't make Romano's ego kick up a few notches. "Do you want to do anything while you're in Rome?"

"Maybe shop a little. It's been so long since I've visited you Romano, that I was hoping you would like to come with me." Given the way her smile was illuminated in her trademark California charm, she was truly Spain's colony.

"Would I ever deny a beautiful girl's invitation?" Romano grinned and Louisiana had the sudden urge to jump him.

"Ahhh, Rafael, Francesca!" Spain swooped in and generously hugged them. Turning to New York, his smile brimmed with Spanish magic. "You're Nikki, right? Francesca told me about you!" He kissed her on the cheek. "You three remind me of Francis, Gilbert, and I!" He looked at Louisiana, who felt his temperature rising. "Leon! It's been way too long. Are you a part of their little group too?"

"Back off tomato bastard, can't you see I'm busy?" Romano shot Spain a look as he glanced away from his conversation with California.

"You're so cute when you're angry Lovi," Spain teased.

"Sh-shut up dammit!" Romano burst out. He turned to California, "Sorry Francesca. Antonio's being a bastard again."

"That's all right," California waved a hand, "I know you like him anyway."

Louisiana, Florida, and New York held their breath. Out of the four of them, California was the one who could say things like that to Romano and not get punched in the face, even though New York wouldn't have gotten hurt if she had said that. Sorry boys, Romano was kinder to women.

Romano, on his part, turned tomato red and started blustering aimlessly while Spain cooed over him.

He received a slap on the head, a "Get off me you Spanish asshole!" and a huffy Italian stomping away for his adoring actions.

"I'll talk to you later Francesca!" he called out to her, "When there isn't any annoying tomato bastards around!"

After the two had left, California looked at them triumphantly, "Denial."

"Totally," the other three agreed.

WHO IS IT?

Suspect #5: Spain

"Do we really have to follow Antonio around?" whined Florida, looking longingly at his dessert, three irresistible canolis with chocolate cream positively leaking out of the tube shaped opening.

"Don't be such a baby." New York rolled her eyes. "You know that we need to follow every nation until we figure out who's straight."

"It's kind of obvious that Antonio's not straight," Louisiana tapped his fingers on the table and gazed at his gelato with a fierce yearning. Although it wasn't as great a yearning as when he was, say, looking at DAT ASS of a certain Spaniard.

"I actually agree with Rafael on this one." California speared a piece of tiramisu and put it in her mouth. "And I have the added advantage of being raised by the man."

"Are you sure?" New York mentally consulted her history books. "He wanted to marry Queen Elizabeth."

"AKA Arthur, so that's the end of that. And remember Roderich?" New York's head snapped to face Florida, who smirked devilishly.

New York threw her hands into the air as her siblings smirked. "Fine! Antonio is gay for Romano! Happy now?"

"Very," California took another bite of tiramisu. "But who knows, maybe he really is bi."

New York's head hit the table with an exasperated thud.

WHO IS IT?

Suspect #6: England

Wrapped in their light summer coats, New York led the way as the Bad States Quartet entered Trafalgar Square. A light summer rain drizzled down on them, creating dew-like drops in their hair.

California, looking chic as usual in her sweet romeo© gray military jacket, held a baggie of bread crumbs in her hand and an umbrella in the other hand.

"Why is it RAINING in SUMMER?" complained Florida as he zipped up his hoodie.

"Oh yeah, you're not a big fan of the cold are you Rafael," New York commented as she snuggled into her black Kristen Blake coat and pulled the fur lined hood over her head.

"Damn straight. I'm used to sun, sand, and sexy people in swimsuits."

"Don't you have hurricanes?" Louisiana pranced happily in his dark gray-blue turtleneck sweater and twirled a matching umbrella.

"Well, yes, but we don't have them all year. Unlike Arthur, who has this weather all year round. No wonder he's always a stick in the ass."

The states went to one of the fountains and California opened the baggie, pulled out some bread crumbs, and threw them to the pigeons.

"So, what do you think of Arthur?" Florida watched the pigeons coo and swoop down to eat the crumbs.

"It's…debatable. I mean, he probably has something going on with Dad, but then there's Queen Elizabeth I."

"Ah, Good Queen Bess," New York smiled. "When I was a colony I would listen to Arthur's stories about her."

"Wasn't she married to Arthur?" California looked up from her pigeon feeding. "Papa told me stories about 'the queen who wrecked my armada' when I was little. Although when I think about it, he sounded traumatized."

"When you think about it," Louisiana mused, his chin in the palm of his hand, "didn't she say that she was married to her country?"

"Exactly!" New York grinned. "There's a possibility that Arthur may be the straight guy!"

Florida shook his head and smirked. "I wouldn't say that yet." They followed where his finger pointed.

It was England, dressed in a green, red, and black plaid coat. A matching scarf was around his neck and he was standing next to the other fountain parallel to theirs. His cell phone was out, and from the way he was clenching his fist, it must've been —

"Alfred, didn't you tell me that you were the one providing the movies?"

"Uh-oh," whispered California, tossing bread crumbs, "I think something's amiss in movie marathon land."

New York smirked. "In the words of Severus Snape, obviously."

"What do you mean you didn't know the movie store was closed Sunday? Bloody twat, aren't they usually closed that day?" A few more seconds passed. "Damn it, Alfred, you're going to drive me up the wall!"

"Leave it do Dad to forget Blockbuster's is closed on Sunday." Florida murmured, pulling some crumbs out of the baggie in California's hand.

"Leave it to him to forget everything besides the latest fast food craze," New York shook her head.

"No, the second part of Deathly Hollows isn't in stores yet! Honestly Alfred, how moronic can you get! It was released in your country only a few weeks ago!" A whole minute passed and to their disbelief, a little smile graced the Englishman's mouth. "I know, I know, and I'm grateful for that." He closed his eyes, let out a sigh, and opened them again, "Look, why don't you rent the movies using that infernal Netflix of yours and I'll see you Sunday. We can go see Part Two in theatres." There was no denying the fond smile that played around his lips. "Of course. You too, you ungrateful twit." He hung up and placed his cell phone back in his pocket and strolled out of Trafalgar Square.

"Ah yes, we must remember that Dad is Angleterre's weakness." Louisiana winked at a cute guy and smirked in Arthur's direction.

New York's reaction was a mix between a groan and a sigh. "I don't know what to believe anymore."

WHO IS IT?

Suspect #7: France

"No, just…no."

"Agreed."

NOT HIM

Suspect #8: Austria

"He was married to Elizaveta for God's sake!" New York exclaimed, waving her fork around.

"Oh, Nikki," California smiled sweetly, "your belief that almost every guy we investigate is straight amuses me."

"Besides, no offense to Roderich—" Louisiana sipped a glass of Schloss Biebrich "—but he looks gay."

"Says the boy raised by the resident king of flamboyancy," California jabbed her fork into her torte and raised it to her lips. "Damn, Roderich produces some fine-ass tortes."

"Getting back to the point," New York had calmed down with the fork waving, which had been starting to alarm a waiter, "I don't care how gay he looks. Don't judge a book by his cover."

"He was married to An-to-ni-o," Florida grinned at the shocked expression on his sister's face. "Honestly Nikki, we talked about this back in Spain. And I thought you knew your history."

New York spluttered, "Excuse me, but I was raised by the king of history!"

"More like the king of losing things," Louisiana haughtily smiled.

"Hark who's talking." Florida raised a finger, "Who sold you to Dad?"

California coughed, restoring the peace. "Getting back to Roderich. No matter how you look at it, he basically married his way through life."

Louisiana bobbed his head to the side a few sides.

"Right…" New York checked the picture in her hands. "But…has he ever been married to any female nations?"

The states gave it some serious thought. "I don't think so."

"Well then, why don't we ask the man himself?" a cat-like smile traced its way on California's mouth as she looked to her right.

It was Austria, striding down the streets of Vienna, holding a shopping bag in one hand and a sheaf of sheet music in the other, mouthing the names of the notes as he went along. Occasionally he would almost bump into people, so intense was his focus on the music. He would've missed the states if a strategically placed foot, courtesy of Florida, hadn't sent him tumbling to the pavement.

They watched as he turned on his side, saving his face from injury, and sprawled rather inelegantly on the sidewalk. "Für die Liebe der Königin Theresa!" He exclaimed irritably, "Gilbert, you inelegant lout, come out of the bushes this instant!"

California stood up from her chair and rushed over to the fallen Austrian. "Roderich, oh my God, are you okay!"

Hearing the voice, he looked up and beheld California, casually chic in a white trench coat with black buttons and matching boots. A deep blue fringed scarf was wrapped around her neck, and her eyes glowed with care.

"I've been better Francesca," He sat up and took stock of his surroundings, when something jolted his mind. "My music! Where's my music! I was just studying Beethoven's First Symphony!"

California mentally apologized to Prussia for what she was about to say next. "It was Gilbert, Roderich. Calm down," she murmured, holding her hand out, "I'm sure he couldn't have gone far."

Austria took her hand and got up elegantly, as only he could accomplish. "I need to find the lout." Panic crossed his face. "I need to find my music first!"

"You mean these, Monsieur Roderich?" an accent drifted across Austria's ears as a gloved hand slipped his beloved sheet music into the palm of his hand. He started and turned to the source of the voice.

A black wool coat, dark blue jeans, and black loafers rested on a lithe frame. A pair of eyes the same shade as the Gulf of Mexico gazed back at him while tousled blond hair ruffled in the slight breeze. The young man smiled charmingly, showing perfectly white teeth. "Bonjour, Roderich. Papa was right; you really can pull off a girly man look."

Austria choked on his own saliva (with class, mind you!). "…Wh-what an improper thing to say!" he said indignantly. "Who is your father anyway!"

Louisiana grinned knowingly. "Francis Bonnefoy."

At that very moment, Austria's brain seemed to have shut down.

California's voice swam into his mind, sounding very far away. "Roderich, you might want to catch up to Gilbert. I saw him go in the direction of the Stadtpark."

"Right." Austria distractedly folded up his music and put it in his shopping bag. "I'm going to catch up to that idiot before I lose him. It was lovely seeing you all." He smiled at California, gaped at Louisiana questioningly, and fled the scene.

Louisiana chuckled. "Papa's going to have a lecture on not being a better parent soon."

"What makes you say that?" Florida raised an eyebrow.

"I slipped a topless photo of myself into the sheet music."

"Leon, you dog."

California grabbed the picture from New York and studied it. "For the sake of Queen Theresa, let's just say Roderich's bi."

WHO IS IT?

Suspect #9: Sweden

"Officially gay for Finland," Florida said bluntly.

New York nodded in agreement. "Let's go with that."

NOT HIM EITHER

Suspect #10: Finland

"And while we're at it, Tino's not that straight either."

California raised her glass in a salute. "If Derek heard you say that he would probably try to cut you off from the family." She frowned. "Stuck up bastard…thinks he's all cool because of his becoming the first state…" A change came over California. Her deep blue eyes darkened into a hypnotizing dark ocean blue shade and she growled fiercely like an angered cat. "Well, WHO"S CONSIDERED THE GOLDEN STATE YOU BUSINESS SUIT-WEARING BASTARD!" She jumped on top of their café table, fist clenched in front of her, scaring the shit out of the other patrons.

"Damn," New York muttered, "Francesca's gone 'Conquistador' again."

Florida's face clearly said well, what are ya gonna do? "She wasn't raised by Papa for nothing. Although you could say that my redneck side comes out when I get roaring drunk and get into bar fights." He laughed, not noticing the stares he got from New York and Louisiana.

"I"LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT I HAVE THE LARGEST ECONOMY IN—"

"Uh, Francesca," Louisiana tugged her arm so she would bend down to his level, "people are staring."

"—THE UNITED…oh." Smiling sheepishly, she got off the table and turned to the stunned patrons. "Sorry everyone." She turned up the charm in her smile, making everyone feel warm and bubbly inside, "but your country makes some pretty fine tortes."

Everyone chuckled and turned back to their conversations, although some of the more uptight people sniffed and went off to have a word with the manager. Honestly, how more Roderich can you get?

"So, back to Tino," Louisiana sipped the wine again. "I personally believe he's too fluffy to be straight…although I once heard that he can be one serious badass…my God, that must be so hot."

"Estás loco, amigo mío," Florida shook his head in amused exasperation.

New York held her chin with her thumb and pointer finger. "Wasn't he in a relationship with Ivan for a time?"

California spat out her wine, making her wine industry cry in the process. "He what!"

"Yeah, it started sometime in 1809…Berwald was really pissed about it."

The other states made a mental note to go to Wikipedia right when they got home.

"But Tino always denies that he's Berwald's wife," Florida objected.

California raised an eyebrow. "How would you feel if a freakishly intimidating Swede went around proclaiming you as his wife in public?"

"Honored," Louisiana smirked, "after all, I'm a sucker for the protective types."

Florida stuck it to his brother. "No wonder you like Antonio so much."

"I don't think Papa is that prote…" California trailed off. "…you're right."

"Personally, while I find Berwald attractive, he's not at the top of my list of nations to screw." Louisiana fingered his glass thoughtfully, staring off into space.

"Why don't you start with the states and work your way up?" California said teasingly.

"Hmm, that's not a bad idea." Louisiana leaned towards her, cupping her cheek. "ma chérie, do me the honor of joining me in bed tonight." He purred, "I'll make sure to make it worth your while."

Stuttering incoherently, California leaned back, "Um, n-no."

"Was that hesitance I heard in your mesmerizing voice?"

"Good God Leon," New York exclaimed, "let the poor girl have some air—" a small, dangerous smile bloomed on her lips "—or I'll take care of it myself."

Louisiana jerked backward. When New York 'took care of it' it usually involved stilettos, mace, or force, and he didn't want to be on the receiving end of any. Besides, he wasn't as strong as he once was, due to that oil spill…

"So…Tino…" California said quietly, looking at the picture she held in her hand. "What do you guys think?"

"Boon-joooour, have you seen the two of them when they're with Peter? Like a little family those three are."

"I guess anything's possible with him." Florida absently wondered, taking a sip of his Austrian beer. "Could be in the closet and in denial, out of the closet but in denial, bi and in denial…why do all of my options have denial in them?"

California pulled out her phone and selected a number from her contact list. After waiting a few seconds, a bright smile went across her face. "Hi Tino. I have a question. Do you like Berwald, cause the two of you act like you're married and he always calls you his wi—"

They all heard Finland shriek "I'M NOT!" and then the click of the phone as he hung up with trembling fingers.

Florida smirked, "What'd I tell ya? It's safe to just mark him as denial and just leave it at that."

Amused, California looked at her phone and checked to make sure her ears were working. "Why are so many nations marked denial?"

"I don't know," New York grumbled, "Dammit, why can't they grow a pair and just confess already?"

"This, from the girl who tries to find an angle to prove that almost every guy is straight," Florida remarked.

New York grinned. "Doesn't mean that I don't love a hot boy couple. Newsflash, brother dear, but I'm the fucking State of New York."

WHO IS IT?

Suspect #11: Russia

"If we run into him, you're talking to Ivan, Nikki," Florida looked around him warily as if expecting Russia to pop out of nowhere amid the people flocking to Saint Basil's Cathedral, which, unfortunately, was a possible event.

"Why me?" New York breathed out, watching as a frosty cloud escaped her mouth and drifted into the ice blue sky of Moscow. The wispy clouds languidly swam in the air and despite being summer everyone was bundled up, except some tourists, who were wearing garish Hawaiian shirts and shorts.

"Because, unlike us, you know Russian and also have business relations with several nations. You can pass off this trip as a potential business relations trip." California buttoned up her black double breasted jacket. "I, on the other hand, will be asked to—" she changed her voice "—become one with Russia, da?"

Louisiana stared up at the vividly colored cathedral, gazing at the onion domes. "This is a fantastic piece of architecture," he murmured, "It reminds me of the houses in my French Quarter." He paused and smirked. "Heh, tell me that did not sound dirty."

New York didn't miss a beat, "It doesn't." She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, "What are your opinions on Ivan?"

"Well, forget Natalia, he's terrified of her. There's the Soviet Union, the Cold War, that Finnish War thing, the dissolution of Prussia, and The Peppermint—Yao, Dad, Tino, Gilbert, and Roderich…" Louisiana ticked them off on his fingers. "In other words, he's a pimp."

"No way, that's definitely Roderich," California pointed out. "He had more marriages then Hugh Heffner has had girlfriends."

New York nodded. "But let's not forget that he has the Baltics in his house, including Toris."

"And we all know that Toris is Ivan's bitch," Florida said knowledgably.

California's eyes softened as a light entered them. "You know…there was Anastasia…the last Grand Duchess…"

"They were close," murmured New York, "Do you think they were that close?" The four of them stood still, hair blowing in the chilly breeze.

They looked up at the majestic cathedral, built in the time of Ivan the Terrible. They all had an image of a girl with flowing dark hair, twirling in the air with a smiling Russia. Her gown swished and swirled, flaring out dramatically, matching Russia's swaying waistcoat. They laughed that special laugh that was only between friends and continued their routine.

"She was so innocent," Louisiana's eyes dimmed. "And she was murdered…"

Florida jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, not knowing what to say.

"Do you think there are any female nations out there for him?" Louisiana was currently lost in childhood memories of a time when a little boy and a blond haired man with deep cerulean eyes danced him around the room of a house in Paris.

A presence suddenly loomed behind him like a jealous girlfriend after he had flirted with her best friend, only this girlfriend was wearing a tan coat and was carrying a sunflower. And more threatening than the most bitchy, jealous girlfriend on the planet.

"Any female nations out there for whom, Leon?"

And because Louisiana had the shit scared out of him at that particular moment, he blurted out the first name that came to his mind.

"Toris!"

The world seemed to come to an almighty freeze. And when that freeze happened, Louisiana had only one coherent thought.

Well, Lithuania's whipped now…

"Listen, comrade…" Russia leaned in close to Louisiana, the scent of vodka gently wafting around him. "There is no need to find a girl for Toris… da?"

It was scary how a simple sentence could terrify the manhood out of somebody. Poor Louisiana was praying to God, Napoleon, Jeanne D'Arc, anyone who would hear him. "O-oui…"

Russia smiled innocently, but with an intimidating undertone that did not go unnoticed. "Good."

And then, before things got out of hand, like a heavenly angel that soared down from heaven, help came in the form of California.

"Ivan! How nice to see you again." her deep blue eyes twinkled as she hastily turned up her California charm. Being the former colony of Spain meant that she had learned some lessons in allure, despite Spain not having any idea that he was hella handsome and that girls (and guys) stared at him wherever he went…

"Ah! Francesca!" In the blink of an eye, a sweet and childlike Russia returned. "Did you like the vodka I sent you and Nikki?" New York suppressed a shiver when she heard him say her nickname.

"I did, although the bottle was shaped like a skull…not that I didn't like it though. It was absolutely delicious."

Satisfied with her answer, he turned on his heel. "I wish I could chat with you all, but I need to leave. They're having a sale on sunflowers at a nearby market!" he laughed joyfully.

The storm had passed.

"Oh, by the way Leon…" Russia turned and looked at Louisiana, his face darkening in a way that made them think of thunder cracking in a horror movie, "…I will have to have a word with comrade Francis, your former caretaker, about your implications about Toris. After all, he will, along with Yao-Yao, become one with me any day now, despite the fact that he refuses to drink the vodka I offer him. Besides, you will all become one with Mother Russia someday. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday."

And with that, he strode away, twirling his lead pipe that seemed to be stained with blood.

Louisiana was shivering in his designer boots, and not from the cold. "I just condemned poor Toris for life…I-I think I need a glass of wine…"

The other states simply stared in Russia's direction as he walked away. For all their theories and opinions, they were stumped. But one thing was for sure though.

Russia sure as hell wasn't straight.

WHO IS IT?

Suspect #12: China

As soon as California saw their next suspect, she fell out of her chair in helpless laughter. Louisiana, Florida, and New York joined her soon afterward, but New York actually stayed in her chair.

"Ok, ok," New York wiped tears from her eyes, "Get back in your seats. People are staring."

Indeed they were. It wasn't often that a group of foreigners took up residence in a restaurant in Beijing. And I guess you could say that it wasn't often that two of those said foreigners spoke perfect Mandarin.

It took effort, but the three states managed to climb back in their chair.

"Now that that, hee hee, is out of the way," California's shoulders shook slightly as she picked up some noodles with her chopsticks, "what are our options?"

"Well, there was the Opium Wars and the Soviet Union…" Florida nabbed some dim sum from New York's plate.

Louisiana took a sip of Chinese wine. "If you ask me, Yao attracts attention from the other nations simply because he looks so much like a girl. The fact that he freaks out whenever Francis or Ivan get near him doesn't help much."

"Leon, everyone freaks out when Ivan gets too close," California objected.

"I think this particular mission is going to need further investigation, if ya know what I mean," Florida smirked and proceeded to attack his roasted duck.

New York paused in the middle of taking a sip of tea (damn them for not having coffee). "Then it's a good thing you have me. Leon would be off chasing the first cute guy that crossed his path, Rafael would high-tail it to the first bar, and Francesca…" she paused, contemplating California before giving her verdict, "…would somehow get herself into trouble."

"For the last time," said state burst out, attracting a few glances, "it wasn't my fault that I ended up in that bar brawl! You know how he gets when someone insults his beloved Red Sox!"

"You could've been injured!" New York shrieked while making a "tone it down!" gesture with her hands.

"Excuse me, but I was raised by Antonio, who happened to the Conquistador of the seven seas!" California felt a fierce rush of pride for her first former caretaker. "Why do people think all California girls are blonde bimbos? I can hold my own in a fight!" She grinned.

New York suddenly had an image of a grinning Spain as he led the Inquisition. Sometimes she forgot that Spain used to be kick-ass, but today, if anyone tried doing anything funny to Romano, the person would get a tomato shoved up a highly questionable place.

Florida coughed. "Ladies, if you don't mind, we have a certain Chineseman to hunt down."

And that was how the four states ended up walking down the streets of Beijing, ignoring the curious stares they got from passersby.

When they rounded the corner, California jabbed the nearest state (Florida) in the ribs. "Yao's right over there!" They all served their heads in the direction of a street cart, where China was chattering away to the elderly vendor. "Nikki and I are gonna hide. Boys, this is where you come in."

China, oblivious to the plan brewing under his nose, was nodding at the vendor in agreement. "I know aru! It's not like it used to be! How can you enjoy the little things when all people care about is the latest electronic gadget, aru?"

He let out a squeak as an arm slithered around his shoulder. "Mon cher," a Louisianan accent crooned in his ear, "you make me sound awful."

"AIYA!" he yelped.

"What's with that look?" Florida slung an arm around his other shoulder. "You know you shouldn't give me that look; it makes you look way too cute."

"C-cute is not an acceptable term for a man, aru!" China huffed indignantly.

California smirked as Louisiana put his head closer to China's, "Then how about delicious?" he savored the word like it was a full-bodied glass of wine.

"Only if the man in question was a simple plaything, aru! And I'm not a plaything!"

"More like a toy," Florida murmured his breath ghosting over China's neck.

China flushed and squirmed in their grip. "Respect your elders, aru!" he exclaimed, leaning his head away from Florida but only managing to bump into Louisiana. "Don't you young people hold anything in regard, aru?"

"Funny you mention that," Louisiana whispered into China's war, ignoring the stare of the vendor, "the ancient Greeks showed respect and regard to their elders in a veeery interesting way…"

China let out a shriek and used some freaky kung fu move to break free of their grasp. "I-I would never—" he shakily backed away from the states who were now flat on the ground "—I mean, it's bad enough about I-Ivan—I can handle that, I think…" the thought of Ivan made his face freeze and blush at the same time. "I have to go, aru!"

And with that, China ran full blast down the street, quick as France hunting down a cute girl, becoming a green and yellow blur.

"You're gonna give him nightmares," scolded New York as she came out of hiding and helped up Florida off the ground.

"Let them happen," Louisiana tossed his head as he allowed California to give him a hand, "it's a small price to pay for the comedy we performed."

"Didja hear him mention Ivan?" Florida asked ecstatically, "There's something goin' on between them!"

It did seem that way, didn't it? The states all looked at each other and then down at the picture of the nations. "Well, they were in the Soviet Union together…But there is that matter of Lithuania…"

"Either way, he seems flustered whenever Ivan's mentioned, but he's also wary of him, so maybe it's denial?" Florida scratched his head.

They all looked at the picture in silence for a few minutes.

"…Why the hell are all these nations in denial?"

WHO IS IT?

Suspect #13: Japan

"To be totally honest, I always thought he leaned towards straight," New York said in surprise.

"Remember those feudal era samurai?" California held up a finger while she examined a silk kimono in a Tokyo boutique.

"But he's extremely, ah, reluctant to show affection to his friends." Florida shook his head, "Poor Feliciano."

"'You've taken my first hug!'" California's shocked Japanese accent amused them all greatly.

"And remember that one time with Herakles…?" Louisiana looked to California.

"'Thank goodness it was all a dream!'"

"How did you manage to find out that happened anyway?" New York asked.

"I asked Papa," Louisiana said his Gulf of Mexico blue eyes gleaming. "He always knows who's doing who."

"Like the fact that Uncle Matt is totally using his invisibility to get some with other nations under everyone's noses," Florida nodded sage-like.

California shook her head, "Uncle Mattie isn't like that. He's more of a 'long-term relationship' kinda guy."

"Hey, wait a minute!" Florida exclaimed in excitement. "Doesn't Gilbert hang around him a lot?"

"Well, he told me that he tried to make a manga, but he sneezed, got bored with it, and went off to annoy Roderich." California considered the kimono's ocean blue silk.

"Oooooh?" Louisiana leaned towards her. "And Gilbert told you this when…?"

California blushed. "When I was sick and the Bad Touch Trio was taking care of me, for your information. Get your head out of the gutter."

"You know," New York said thoughtfully, "they've had business relations for a long time."

"Relations of another kind aren't that far behind, I hope?" purred Louisiana.

"Knowing Kiku, it'll take five years just to let Prussia hold hands. He's not really the PDA kinda guy." California smiled and admired the lovely kimono she had been examining for the past five minutes.

"And that's why we love him," New York laughed a little.

"Wait a minute! What about Mei?" Florida remembered the Taiwanese girl and grinned.

"Hmm…you have a fair point. It'd be hard finding out if they're in a relationship. It'll be like trying to take pasta away from Feliciano," California gnawed her lip in slight irritation.

"Well then," New York licked her lips and looked outside the store, "why don't we start now?"

Japan lingered outside the store, evidently debating whether or not to go inside. He spied some manga inside however and wrenched open the door.

"Kiikuuu…" California sang, dancing over to him, her gold bangles jangling melodiously.

He turned around and his eyes widened as his vision was suddenly taken up by a beaming tanned teenager with deep blue eyes. "He-hello Francesca-san," he said, "is there anything I can help you with?"

California turned her head and winked at her older siblings. "Definitely Kiku, I just can't decide what kimono to buy. I mean, there are so many nice ones to choose from, especially those near the manga shelves…" she discreetly held his wrist as she led him over.

Japan blushed at the contact. This is bad…My wrist virginity has been taken too…

"So, anyway Kiku, I like this ocean blue one, but than again, I think that this white one with the pink and blue cherry blossoms would be nice too, but this one has an autumn theme, and…"

But Japan wasn't listening. His gaze was firmly locked onto the manga on the shelves, including one in particular named Forbidden Paradise, the Tale of Taisho and Genji. On the cover were two extremely attractive young men, locked in a passionate embrace and in the middle of a heated kiss.

He couldn't take his eyes off it.

"But then we get to the matter of price, unfortunately, my economy's in the shit pile, so—Kiku, hey, Kiku, are you listening?"

Japan started and took a leap back, standing a few yards away from the yaoi manga. "I-uh-yes, I was listening…I-I think that you should get the ocean blue Francesca-san, it goes with your eyes." The mortified look in his eyes caught California's attention, and she smirked.

"Whatcha starin' at Kiku?"

Paralyzed, Japan thought wildly of a plan on how to make his escape. "Ah, Francesca-san, I just saw Gilbert-san over there. He's waving."

Surprised, California turned her head to look outside. "Gilbert? Where?"

When she turned back around, Japan was gone without a trace. Damn, she had forgotten that he was where ninjas came from…

New York, Louisiana, and Florida came out of their hiding place. "I knew you were the woman for the job!" New York said triumphantly. "What did you find out?"

"He was staring at this manga—" she picked up Forbidden Paradise "—and I think he's gonna come back when we're gone in order to buy it." Her smirk grew feral, "I knew he was hiding a yaoi fetish."

"I'm not surprised," Florida crossed his arms, "he's part of Elizaveta's yaoi stalker club."

"Oh hon hon hon hon~" Louisiana laughed softly, "I think he's hiiiidiiinnng sommmethiiiinggg…"

"Let's mark it down." California looked at the picture and grinned wildly. "Only one more suspect left!"

WHO IS IT?

Suspect #14: Lithuania

They're back in California's house, and they're sitting at the same table. The picture was in the middle of the table, and their respective drinks sat in front of them. It's the same scene as the beginning of their grand journey, only this time was different.

"This is it." California's face was filled with reverence as she picked up the picture and cradled it in her hands. "He's the one."

At her words, the other states leaned forward to look at the final nation, and started to hear the chorus of "Hallelujah" in their heads. A party suddenly exploded in the room.

Florida jumped up onto his chair. "Damn straight he is!" he roared. "That guy has had a crush on Belarus since they first met!"

New York was clapping her hands wildly like she was at a theater after a fabulous performance. "I never thought the mention of Belarus would make me happy!" she yelled joyously.

Louisiana yanked off his shirt and twirled it around his head, strutting around the table. "Aujourd'huimes amis, nous sommes victorieux!"

California was laughing in exhilaration, saying some sort of victory chant over and over again as she danced around the table after Louisiana, "He's straight, he's straight, he's straight, he's straight…"

Her brother turned around and promptly twirled her in his arms, chanting along with her. "Il est hétéro, Il est hétéro, Il est hétéro, Il est hétéro…" Florida joined in with a leap, their infectious joy spreading like a wildfire, "Es heterosexual, Es heterosexual, Es heterosexual, Es heterosexual…" And then New York came in with Dutch spilling from her tongue, "Hij heeft recht, hij heeft recht, hij heeft recht, hij heeft recht…" They formed a circle, hands clasped, and spun around in a whirl of blond, dark auburn brown, and black. Their joy flew around the room like birds, deliriously happy at the fact that they had succeeded in their mission. They had found the straight guy.

It was a glorious day.

~*~*~*~*OMAKE~*~*~*~*

The states fell back into their seats, breathless with laughter. Clutching their bottles, they raised them high, "A toast! To the success of the Bad States Quartet!"

Eyes closed, New York grinned and reclined, when she suddenly remembered something she read about in a history book and opened one eye. "Uh, wait guys…"

"Yeah?" three pairs of eyes looked at her inquisitively, still feverish from their victory. At last they had cracked the code of the nations that had haunted them since time began! Just wait 'til they rub it in France's face that they figured it out before he did!

"Didn't Poland and Lithuania form an alliance by marriage in 1385?"

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed, and then:

"DAMN IT!"

XXX

EDIT: Mission failed; results inconclusive. xD

For the record, I personally believe every nation (but Sweden) is bi, for the sake of my brain. At least a whole month of writing…I am exhausted, but intensely happy.

My random tidbits: Sunflower Blond is the name of a L'Orel hair color and sweet romeo© is a clothing line as well as Kristen Blake. Schloss Biebrich is a German sparkling wine (found at Trader Joe's :D) and yes, Louisiana got France's laugh. If anyone has more historical info on Austria/Russia, let me know.

- Parts of Hungary were part of the Ottoman Empire, so I'd imagine that she'd live with him for some time.

- Spain's King Philip II was married to Queen Mary I and, after her death, tried to marry Elizabeth I when she was queen. It didn't happen.

- They were unified under the House of Hapsburg "which was the origin of all formally elected Holy Roman Emperors between 1438 and 1740 as well as the rulers of the Austrian and Spanish empires". (Wiki)

- Himaruya stated that Sweden was homosexual

- As of 2007, California's GSP was about $1.812 trillion, the largest in the US

- "In 1809, Finland was conquered by Russia in the Finnish War and entered a personal union with Russia as a grand duchy. Finland declared independence in 1917 when revolution broke out in Russia". (Wiki)

- Named by the Diplomacy community, "The Peppermint" is the Austria/Russia alliance. Apparently, they often work together against Turkey. (Wikibooks)

- Homosexual activities were widely practiced by the Feudal era samurai. (Eyewitness Travel Guide – Japan)

- Jadwiga of Poland and Władysław Jagiello of Lithuania united the two countries with their marriage in 1385. (Wiki)

Translations

Spanish: Hola – Hello

Estás loco, amigo mío – You're crazy, my friend

Es heterosexual – He's straight

French: Ma chérie – my dear (feminine)

Mon cher – my dear (masculine)

Angleterre – England

Cacher – Hide

Oui – yes

Monsieur – Mister

Bonjour – Hello

Aujourd'huimes amis, nous sommes victorieux – Today my friends, we are victorious

Il est hétéro – He's straight

Italian: Ciao – Hi

Bella – beautiful (feminine)

Vaffanculo – fuck off

Che palle – what balls

German: Für die Liebe der Königin Theresa – For the love of Queen Theresa

Russian: Da – yes

Dutch: Hij heeft recht – He's straight