Romano cocked an eyebrow at Spain. It was Christmas so the older nation had insisted that they walk around Madrid and take in the decorations. Pulling his scarf tighter around his neck, Romano decided to voice the question that hag been nagging at the back of his mind.
"You do know we're being followed, right?"
Spain, ever oblivious, jumped, "What? No we're not."
"Yes we are, you idiot!" he jabbed a finger over his shoulder, "The guy's been following us for over an hour!"
"Really?" Spain turned just as the man ducked into a shop, "I don't see anyone following us.
Romano rolled his eyes and groaned. An idiot. A complete and utter idiot. As usual, "You dumbass! Could you just tell Holland to go home already?! I'm sure he has better things to do then follow us around," he paused, "Then again if he's following us maybe he doesn't."
"Huh? Holland?" Smiling, Spain placed a hand on Romano's shoulder, "Why don't you head back home, Romano," he said, "I'll take care of this and meet you there, okay?"
He shrugged, shaking off Spain's hand, "Sure whatever. Just don't take too long, bastard," he walked forward then stopped, "You got any tomatoes?"
"Always, my little-"
"Don't! Don't say it," he stated walking again, "I'm making pasta when I get back."
Spain waved, "Sounds good, Romano! I'll see you when I get there!"
Romano kept going for a few seconds, then stopped and turned back. Something was up and he was going to find out what. He slipped behind an outdoor display at a flower shop and poked his head over the pine needles. Holland had just started to walk down the street, casually approaching the still smiling Spain.
"You do this every year, Holland," Spain said.
Sighing, Holland smiled in return, "I'm still hoping you'll tell me one of these centuries."
Tell him whatRomano wondered form his place behind the shrubs.
The two nations stood in silence for a few seconds until Spain broke the silence, "Aren't you going to ask "
"I thought you were tired of me asking," Holland replied.
"It's become a tradition, don't you think " he reached out his hand, "And this may be your lucky day."
"Alright," Holland grasped Spain's hand with his own, "Does St. Nicholas really live here "
Romano's breath caught in his throat, What
Grinning, Spain shook his head, "I can't tell you."
I'm usually not one for author's notes, but here goes anyways. I read recently that it was a dutch tradition and belief that St Nicholas resided in Spain. Please correct me if I'm wrong but when I heard it I just couldn't resist writing something to that effect 3