Gilbert stormed into Roderich's home, his face aflame with a fire that Roderich hadn't seen since the Austrian Succession.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?" the taller nation demanded.

The Austrian calmly sipped his tea where he was sitting on the couch. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"You son of a bitch, you will ANSWER ME, and then you will prepare to get your BALLS RIPPED OFF!"

Roderich merely raised an eyebrow. "Please, keep your voice down. You are disturbing the atmosphere."

"THE ONLY "FEAR" I'M GONNA BE DISTURBING IS YOURS, BITCH! PREPARE TO BE SMITED!" Gilbert ran towards the Austrian at full charge, only to trip on the glass-topped coffee table that he hadn't seen through his vision of red.

"Gilbert. Sit down, and we will have a civilized conversation. I do not know what you possibly mean by storming into my house in this barbaric fashion, but we will soon settle it." Roderich gave a self-satisfied smirk at acting like the bigger nation, and motioned for Gilbert to sit across from him in the large leather armchair.

Trying to maintain his dignity after falling flat on his face in front of his adversary, Gilbert pushed himself off from the ground, and brushed off the broken shards of glass from his coat.

"Oh, and in passing," Roderich calmly said, noticing. "You are paying for another one of those."

Gilbert glowered at him. "Listen. I want to explain yourself, so I can pretend to listen, and then punch your face in."

Roderich sighed. "You cannot possibly understand, Gilbert. There are some matters to which your unsophisticated mind cannot begin to comprehend." He patted Gilbert's hand condescendingly, which Gilbert whipped away immediately as if he had been scalded.

"I understand perfectly," he hissed. "I understand that you hither."

"Oh, please," sighed Roderich.

"Please my ass," snarled Gilbert. "Explain. Or, don't explain, and I can beat the crap out of you now."

"What's going on?" called a voice from the corridor. "Gilbert? Is that you?"

It was her. Gilbert froze, face blanking for a second, and then he turned on Roderich again.

"Nowlook what you've done. You can't just settle this man-to-man? Or, I guess in your case, man to pussy?"

"I am hardly to blame for this turn of events, Gilbert," Roderich answered coldly. "Ididn't come bursting through doors, break a coffee table, and yell loud enough that Mr. Wang probably heard you."

Gilbert just groaned. "Elizaveta, stay out of this." He immediately regretted his choice of words- if there was a fight, Elizaveta wasn't staying out of it.

"What's going on?" she asked, coming into the room.

She was wearing the uniform again. It made Gilbert's heart sink like a stone, seeing the maid's outfit on her form. Elizaveta was no servant, and he knew it. She could kick his ass any day of the week, though he would never admit it out loud. And she was a free spirit- one of the reasons that he fell in love with her. Something Roderich would never understand, the sanctimonious bastard.

"Elizaveta," Roderich said calmly. "Why don't you go back to your room, Gilbert and I were just talking. It is nothing of importance."

"You bet your ass it's important, you-"

"Gil. What's going on." She was wary, and Gilbert could see her mentally getting ready for a fight, and to win that fight.

"I heard…" he started.

"Heard what?"

"I heard he hit you." He spat the word, glaring daggers at Roderich.

Elizaveta rolled her eyes. "And you didn't think I could defend my own honor?"

"Of course I do! Just not to him!"

Hungary glared at him. "What makes you think I can't hold my own, huh? There's a frying pan hanging in the kitchen, in the room down the hall and two doors to the left. I could get it at any time," she threatened.

"I know you can, but you won't," Gilbert groaned, trying to make her understand. Trying to make her see. "You'll kick my ass all the time, but you won't lay a finger on him!"

"Actually," Elizaveta started suggestively, lasciviously grinning.

Gilbert shuddered. "I meant that he hurts you, he represses you, and for a long time you seemed happy even though all that was happening, so I was cool with it, because you were still kicking ass, almost as much as me, and you were happy! And then he HITS you, fucking hits you, and all you can do is defend him!" he snapped.

Roderich raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon, but I do not think that-"

"Shutup!" shouted Gilbert. "She needs to answer me."

Elizaveta was trying very hard to keep calm. "Roderich, please, could you give us a minute?"

Roderich sighed. "Very well. I was considering having some peace and quiet elsewhere anyway. I will be in the West Wing, playing the piano in the Grand Foyer." He got up, straightening his coattails as he did so, and walked dignifiedly out of the room.

When he was gone, Elizaveta turned to Gilbert.

"So he slapped me," she said coolly. "Why do you care, anyway? You're always fighting me, even from the day I met you. I kicked your ass," she added.

Gilbert groaned. "I don't know how you put up with him. How can you be happy with that? Listen, I've listened to you talk about him, and I get it. He's handsome, he's talented, he's stoic, yeah, yeah, whatever. If you find prissy pussyfaces who'd rather tape up their teacup when it breaks and then play a sonata about it attractive than anything else, fine. But he went too far. Nobody slaps you, Eliza."

"Look, Gil. It's sweet that you're trying to be my white knight or whatever, but I don't need it. I'm the knight. Roderich's the damsel in distress," she snickered.

Any other time, Gilbert would have laughed with her.

"He hit you."

"It didn't hurt at all. I doubt he could've hurt anything with that amount of force."

"It doesn't matter."

"We fight all the time, Gil. You've never had a problem with that," she said, cocking her head to the side.

"That's because it's always been that way! From the day I met you! That's just… us! But not with him. Nobody gets to slap you. Not even I do that."

"Yeah, because you're too much of a pussy to outright hit a girl," she assented.

"I'll try to flip you over your back and slam you to the floor, not slap you!" he whined. "And I've never even been able to do it yet! Even though I totally will next time!"

"Oh, please," Elizaveta laughed. "The only thing you could flip over is that glass table, which you tripped over. Fucking hilarious, by the way," she grinned.

"How did you seetha-" Gilbert started to protest.

"Hey," she interjected. "Give it a rest. Go apologize to Roderich, and go home, and I'll see you tomorrow okay?" she grinned.

Gilbert hissed. "He's gonna get his face kicked in so hard that his teeth are gonna be wearing his glasses."

"Whatever, Gil, just relax, okay? I'm fine."

"I'm not."

"This isn't even any of your business."

"You're my business."

"No, I'm not," she said angrily.

"Yes, you are!" he shouted back, stepping towards her.

"Well how do you figure that?" she retorted, eyes flashing as pressed her forehead up against his.

In exasperation, Gilbert pulled away. "Because- because we fight, and it's cool, and you being slapped sucks, because you're the second most awesome person I know!"

"You know what?" Elizaveta snapped. "I'm really getting so tired of it. If all you can do is act superior to me, get the hell away from me."

"Fiery talk coming from a maid," Gilbert spat. He knew immediately he'd said the wrong thing.

"I." she said, advancing toward him, looking scarier than Gilbert had ever seen her. "Am not. A maid. I'm a warrior, and a better one than you, and you can leave rightnow, because I don't want to see you."

Prussia felt something explode, and then he was saying words that his brain absolutely positively did not know were being said.

"You don't get it, do you? You've never gotten it! You're an awesome fighter, but when it comes to him, you act weak, and it's not you! It's never been you! Stop it, I hate seeing you like this, and it's killing me inside, because I love you, and I can't even tell you, so shut the hell up and stop acting like his bitch!"

Elizaveta stopped short.

"You…what?"

Oh no.

He just said that out loud.

That was supposed to stay in his diaries, damn it.

"I…" Gilbert started. "I have to go."

He turned away from her, and all but ran out of the house.

Days passed.

Weeks went by.

Gilbert hadn't seen Elizaveta since that day, and as much as he tried to stop thinking about it, it was impossible.

"I ruined it. I cannot believe my awesomeness has been tainted by that bitch," he growled, pouring himself another mug of beer.

There was a smashing sound, and Gilbert whipped around to see someone running away at top speed, and his window broken.

"Verdamnt," he groaned. That was probably going to cost a lot. He crossed over to the broken window, and then something caught his eye. It was a rock, with a note tied to it.

Meet me at the usual place, as soon as you can. You can bring your battle gear, but I really just want to talk. –E

Gilbert sighed. "She couldn't have just called?"

He stuffed the note in his pocket, and went to get his battle gear.

Some time later, he arrived at the field. It was where they first met, by the stone wall.

He saw her there, shining off her breastplate.

"Hey," she said when she saw him.

"Hey."

"Did you like my little window-gram?"

Gilbert groaned. "I'm so getting you back for that."

"Yeah?" she challenged. Then, she sighed. "Later. We'll fight, but I want to talk to you first."

"Ah, come on, Elizaveta. We're men of action!" Gilbert was willing to do almost literally anything to not talk about this. Neither of them were… feelings people.

"Sit down, Gil." Her tone was nothing to be trifled with. Normally, he wouldn't take orders from anyone, but she was really serious about this.

"So… what did you say to me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb."

"Your mom's playing dumb! Haha!" Prussia laughed.

Elizaveta rolled her eyes. "I am talking about what you said right before you left."

"It's true. He abuses you, and you know it, and I don't know what the hell you're doing with him. Can we fight now?"

"Not that."

Scratch that, Gilbert woulddo literally anything to get out of this.

"I… I don't know what you're talking about! I guess your hearing isn't as awesome as mine, because I didn't say anything else."

"So… if I told you that Roderich and I were getting married, what would you say?"

"What?" Gilbert screamed, turning around to face her. He felt a horrible, dripping, icy cold feeling slipping slowly down his spine and numbing his mind.

"Relax, man, I'm not getting married. I'm just asking what your reaction would be."

"Oh." Relief nearly knocked him over. "I'd think you were an idiot for doing it, and I'd probably kick his face in."

"Well, at least you're honest," she sighed. "But I meant… look, do you feel anything for me?"

Gilbert said nothing.

"Gilbert. I'm asking you a question."

"Of course not," he said in a monotone. "We're best friends. That's it. You love him." It sounded robotic, and so not Gilbert that Elizaveta almost pulled her hair in frustration.

"That isn't true. At least, that's not what you said a few weeks ago."

Prussia slammed his eyes shut. "You heard what I said. What do you want me to say now? Can we just fight? I hate this stupid sissy feelings stuff."

"Look." Elizaveta started. "I was thinking a lot about what you said. And you're right."

"What?" he turned to look at her.

"You're right… he hasn't treated me like I should be treated. I've talked to him about it, and we both decided it was best that I not see him anymore."

"I… that's… I mean, good for you for coming to your senses." Gilbert clenched his jaw, and tried to stop anything un-awesome from coming out, like the scream of happiness and vindictive satisfaction that was threatening to explode.

"And I was thinking, also, about that other thing you said." She stepped toward him. "And uh, it threw me off. And then I realized the love I felt for Roderich had shattered a long time ago, and I was pretending otherwise."

Gilbert was a little beyond words. "I-I'm glad you finally see that he's a freeloading pussy."

She laughed. "I never said that. But I'm certainly not addicted to him anymore." She stepped still closer toward him. "You know… we were together for a really long time."

"Years," Gilbert added. "I know."

"Yeah," she chuckled. "I guess you do." She was mere inches away from him now, and so close Gilbert could smell her hair. It smelled like grass.

"So, my point is," she continued. "I'm still figuring a lot of things out. And I don't know too much yet. But I wanted to ask you if you wanted to help me figure it out."

"I…" Gilbert tried to respond.

"We could start like this." She suddenly pulled him toward her, taking his face in her hands and kissing him.

Gilbert was so shocked that he almostdidn't kiss her back. He came to his senses shortly and then his lips were moving with hers, fire on fire.

After a long moment, Elizaveta broke the kiss, and grinned. She grabbed his shoulders and pushed him down to the ground, completely unexpectedly.

"Hey-" he started to protest, but her lips silenced his.

Their battle armor lay forgotten by the stone wall.