Name of Recipient: Jammerlea
Type of Gift: Fanfiction
Rating: G (Maybe PG, at the very most.)
Title: Me-kitty and you-kitty.
Summary: For the prompt: "Italy and Germany with their Nekotalia cat counterparts."
Author Notes: FLUFF. Oh, goodness, I don't think I've ever written such fluffy fluff EVER. So I hope that it's not terrible fluff. I really don't have any practice writing happy stuff, so I'm particularly nervous about posting it... Also, this is only my second fanfiction since my five-year fic hiatus, and it's not beta-ed. I would have had it beta-ed had I been able to do so, but I don't have a go to beta. If you see anything you'd recommend fixing, just let me know! And, also, Jammerlea? If this isn't what you wanted, let me know, and I'll write you something else! I really want you to get a present that you like... I really hope that you all enjoy it!

"Germany, Germany!" Italy said. "Look! This kitty looks just like you!"

Germany turned around and found himself nose to nose with a grouchy, blue cat. He glared at it, and it glared back.

"Italy, we're in the middle of training—"

"But look at these kitties!" Italy cut in. "This one looks just like Germany. Even though he's a cat, he's so serious!"

"Italy—"

"And this one!" Italy said, tipping his head to one side and pulling the blue cat into his arms. Germany noticed another cat curled up in the shade, lying against Italy's leg, sound asleep. "Doesn't this one look like me, Germany?"

"Well, I suppose," Germany said, feeling a little flustered. One long curl bobbed near the cat's ear, and Germany stared at it for a moment, startled, before shaking his head. It must be a coincidence. "But you really shouldn't be bothering Greece's cats again. I don't want to have to take you over to apologize to him again, Italy."

Italy wasn't listening to him—he was rolling around on the grass, cuddling the two kitties and laughing delightedly.

"Germany, Germany!" Italy beamed. "Come play with us! It's lots of fun, really."

"As though I could do something so—so—" Germany flushed. Italy lay still, panting and laughing. "We're supposed to be training, Italy!"

"Playing can be exercise, right?" Italy said, smiling up at Germany with that expression he found so hard to refuse. Blushing harder, Germany turned away and coughed. "Oh, come on, Germany! Please?"

"Fine," Germany said, sitting down hard. The cats jumped, but Italy soothed them. "But only for a little while, do you understand?"

"Yay!" Italy said, rolling over to face Germany, looking up at him with an expression so happy that Germany had to look away again. "Here, you can have the little me-kitty, and I'll play with the little you-kitty." Italy held out the cat with the one, long curl. As Germany gingerly took the cat from Italy, Italy's eyes lit up. "I think we should name them, Germany!"

Italy leaned in to look each cat in the face, clearly thinking hard. Germany waited to hear his suggestions; the only name that came to Germany's mind was dog food, and he doubted Italy would be pleased with it.

Italy sat up straight, gesturing wildly in his excitement. "Oh, oh, I know! Itabby for the little me-kitty, and Germouser for the little you-kitty!" Italy grinned, scratching Germouser under the chin. "Who's a good mouser? I bet that you are, aren't you? Yes, you are." Germouser began to purr, leaning against Italy's palm, then seemed to catch himself; he pulled back. Germany swore he caught a blush under the cat's fur.

"Itabby, huh?" Germany said, holding the little cat up to his face. Itabby licked his nose and strained to rub his cheek against Germany's.

"Vee-meow!" Itabby said urgently, and Germany let him climb into his lap, where Itabby promptly fell asleep, purring contentedly.

"Playing with this one isn't much exercise," Germany said, rolling his eyes. Italy chuckled.

"I guess that's like me, too," Italy grinned. "Scritch him behind the ears, Germany. I think he'll like that."

Germany sighed, but did as Italy asked. Itabby stretched and settled back into Germany's touch, his purring twice as loud.

"Where do they keep the motor?" Germany mused. "The dogs are so much quieter. Well, they won't be when they smell cat all over me."

"Oh, that's right," Italy said. "You like dogs, don't you, Germany?"

Germany nodded once, watching Italy out of the corner of his eye. Italy was dragging a piece of cloth along the ground, trying to encourage Germouser to pounce on it. Where had he gotten the cloth, out here on the training—Ah! Germany froze, forgetting to scratch Itabby as he realized what the cloth was.

"Get your pants back on!" Germany shouted, startling Itabby awake and causing Germouser to flatten his ears and hiss. Italy blinked up at Germany.

"What's the matter, Germany?" Italy asked. "Germouser wanted something to play with, and I didn't bring any kitty toys to training today."

"Why would anyone ever bring cat toys to a training session?" Germany demanded, but Italy's lower lip began to tremble, and he hastily lowered his voice, willing himself to be calm. "Just—just put your pants back on, Italy. Please."

"Okay," Italy said, but his voice was morose. Germouser sat by Italy's side as Italy curled up, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Vee-meow," Itabby said, shaking himself free of Germany to curl up at Italy's feet, rubbing his cheek against Italy's calf until Italy scooped him up.

Germany looked up at the bright, July sky above him. It was nearly time for Italy to have his siesta, which Germany had long-since learned to accommodate. It was a hot day, and he was already down to his ratty, black shirt. Sighing, Germany stripped off the shirt and held it out to Italy.

"Here," he said. "They can play with this. I need a new one, anyway."

It was a lie, but Italy didn't recognize it as one. His eyes lit up again, and he beamed.

"Thank you, Germany!" Italy said, taking the shirt.

"If you didn't have a toy, you wouldn't get any exercise before your siesta," Germany said, shrugging and looking away to hide his embarrassment again. "Now, get to work!"

"Yes, sir!" Italy said brightly, saluting. "Right away, sir!"

As Italy got up, dragging the old, black shirt behind him, Germany felt a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Too slow, soldier!" Italy said, tugging the shirt out of Germouser's reach as Itabby curled up beside Germany to watch them play. "Come on! I know you can get it this time!"

Germouser wiggled his butt, carefully gaging the distance to the shirt, and pounced, just missing the hem as Italy yanked it away from him. Italy laughed and dangled the cloth over Germouser, who caught it with his paws and dragged it into his mouth. He and Italy battled over the shirt for several minutes before Italy relented, laughing, and Germouser strutted off with his prize.

Italy walked back over to Germany and flopped down in the grass beside him, startling Itabby awake. Itabby scanned the field for Germouser, meowed once when he spotted him, and then sprinted to catch up.

"Bye, kitties!" Italy shouted, sitting up just enough to wave after them. "Come back soon!"

When they'd disappeared from view, Italy sank back down. Germany checked his watch—three o'clock on the dot.

"Come on, Italy," Germany said, getting up and holding out his hand. "We're going to run laps, and I don't want you to get trampled."

Italy looked up at him sleepily, then grinned, taking Germany's hand.

"Thank you, Germany," Italy said. Germany helped him to his feet, but Italy didn't let go of his hand. "Thank you for letting me play with the kitties."

Germany dropped Italy's hand and turned away.

"Well, I have to be open to various strategies," Germany said gruffly. "It got you to exercise."

Italy stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Germany. It was typical for Italy to hug him, especially when sleepy like this, but Germany still blushed as he patted Italy on the back. Italy got on tip-toe and strained upward to kiss Germany's cheeks, and Germany lowered himself a bit so that Italy could reach, then returned the gesture.

Italy smiled up at him.

"Now, rest up," Germany said, trying to be gruff, but his voice was softer and gentler than he'd intended. He coughed. "You have a lot of training to make up in the evening!"

"Pasta for dinner?" Italy asked. Germany held in a sigh.

"If you do well enough at training," Germany said.

"Yay!" Italy said, turning back toward Germany's house, where he would be resting. "Good night, Germany!"

Germany raised a hand in parting and watched Italy go. He smiled in spite of himself.

"Good night, Italy."