It was one thing for your country's status to be neutral, it was an entire other thing for a person to be.

Vash never meddled in anyone's business. He'd criticize and insult under his breath but he'd never personally get involved. If Europe or Africa or Asia or anybody decided to start up another war, well, good for them. He was staying home and making cheese fondue for Vanessa.

He expected other countries to do the same thing, to stay out of his business, but they usually didn't. Especially since a certain someone knew all about him and Austria, and proceeded to tell other gossiping someone's, who told everybody, regardless if they wanted to hear or not. Within a month the unusual match took all of Europe off guard. Of course, they couldn't tease about it, because they'd either get a bullet in the gut or a scalding hot cup of coffee to the head (France teased anyway, netting him many hospital visits, right next to Prussia). That didn't stop them from giggling as he passed in the halls.

And god, that pissed him off. He was ready to drag everybody, especially those idiots Prussia and France. He considered hiring Romano's Mafia and having their eyes shot out and thrown off Sicily's coast, but then he figured he'd save a lot more money if he just tied them up and threw them off the Alps himself.

It should be known that his European neighbors were genuinely surprised, knowing all about his legendary hatred for Austria, and had to tell and share. The Asian and American countries hadn't any clue of their once-rocky relationship, but thought a prissy little diamond and a trigger happy temperamental man was the most hilarious couple.

So naturally, he didn't want to go to the global meeting that was the next day. Vanessa practically dragged him out of bed, insisting he had to keep up with world events (especially mandatory ones), and it'd be good to get out of the house. When he insisted that he most certainly did get out enough, she said, "The shooting range in the backyard and going to the store just for cheese and bullets don't count."

It wasn't just dealing with loose-lip neighbors that bothered him, it was his stomach. He hadn't even gotten on the plane and it was slowly rocking back and forth, just waiting for the perfect time to turn into a royal pain. He drank what was left of the tea Roderich had given to him, but it did little to calm the churning. That soured his mood, considering the drink had always worked before.

The grueling plane ride next to an annoying Turk and Greek arguing for hours didn't help his stomach in the least bit. He stumbled towards the meeting room, he was always early, and to make sure everyone got there on time. Vash took his seat towards the middle and lurched over. Damn stomach wouldn't stop-

"Bonjour petite Suisse~"

Christ. The last person he wanted to see. Vash turned quickly, pistol in hand. "What?" He hissed.

France quickly took several steps back, nervously holding his hands up. "Ah, ah! Calm, Suisse~ I only wanted to talk to y-"

Vash knew exactly what the French bastard was going to mention, so he took the gun off safety, alarming France more. "Just talk dear Suisse, not interrogate in any way..."

"There is no 'just talking' with you!" Vash's trigger finger wobbled with each word.

"My~! I just wanted to comment on how happy you've made our dear musician."

The shorter blonde opened his mouth to shout about something, but shut it quickly. He internally debated for a few moments, deciding whether or not to go for France's bait. He took it. "Happy?"

"Oui! Just the other day mi ami Gilbert was telling me how that uptight man was simply lavishing his love for you!" Vash's cheeks burned but he became hostile again. "Roderich doesn't lavish."

"Ah! Well, regardless, I believe you two are parfait for each other~!"

France was honestly expecting to be brushed (or shot) off, but the other nation's cheeks just went redder. He smiled to himself; finding this cheesy little affair just adorable. He always knew Austria loved Switzerland, and vice versa, but alas! Men can be stubborn. France felt like pushing patience, and Switzerland went right for the bait, again.

"P-Perfect? What the hell makes you say that?" The gun lowered.

"You're like French bread and he's the butter!"

"... Do I want to be the bread?"

"Oui! For the butter goes inside the bread!"

The next thing the passengers on the flight was a gunshot and screaming. Naturally, they screamed and panicked, but the attendants assured them by saying there was an angry Swiss man on board. Everybody calmed down after that.

Vash was usually the first to sit at the meeting table. That's because he arrived at least an hour before the event, and during that time the other nations would prefer to socialize outside the cold and serious room. He told himself it was because he was the only damn serious one out of all of them, not because after the event on the plane everybody tiptoed around him (if they hadn't already).

"Why are you in here? We've got forty five minutes before the meeting."

Vash hated that his heart leapt internally and his cheeks warmed externally. He gave a sideways glance to Roderich, who despite his chiding comment had a warm look in his deep brown eyes. Vash couldn't help but have schoolgirl thoughts, knowing that was the look Roderich saved for him.

Roderich took a seat by him. "You should come out and talk."

"To who?" Vash's insides might be too warm and melty but he still had a bite to his voice.

"... Ah." Roderich blanked. "Well. We can at least go get the drinks they're offering."

"They always taste bad." Vash had a full scowl with his childish complaints. The brunette next to him took his hand, trying, "You'll numb your mind like this. Let's at least walk around the gardens at the front."

Shit, he couldn't refuse that. Years of fighting back his feelings and a single stupid handholding had undone him. He made a look of resignation without actually saying it, which Roderich understood well and stood up. "You know, you don't have to be like that."

"Like what?"

"So reserved. Everybody knows." To further his point, Roderich bent down and gave him a quick peck. Vash, naturally, reacted like a fish thrown out of the water: Flailing and sputtering.

"D-don't do that here! God dammit-!" He growled while his face burned, making Roderich chuckle. "Ah, you know, there's an unused room right down the hall..."

"Oh, real- Wait! What the hell are you implying?" Vash's voice slightly went high at the last part, prompting some people in the hall to turn and wonder what the heck was going on in there. It was this: Roderich trying to keep down his laugh while Vash was shaking him in embarrassed fury.

It would've continued for quite a while because Roderich would've continued to spew out similar suggestive comments just to see the blonde's riled face. It would've, but Vash suddenly got such a dizzy spell and stumbled out of Roderich's arms that the country exclaimed.

"Vash? Vash, are you alright?"

"Shit, no," Vash held his stomach, which was churning like crazy and felt his face going from a giddy warmth to a sickly one. "Ah, I must be..."

"The plane?" Long fingers were instantly to his wrists. Vash shook his head, which went from fevered red to paling. "N-no... No, it's never been like this...Urgh."

Vash couldn't help but feel irritably babied as Roderich rushed him to the restrooms, holding him carefully, both knowing this would doubtless spread more drama. But as Vash practically emptied the whole contents of his stomach into the ceramic toilets, neither could care less.

As he left the stall, Roderich instantly produced a white handkerchief for him. Vash glanced at it, apprehensive, but took it and wiped his forehead. "I don't know what that was, so don't ask."

"My only question is if you're okay."

"I think." Actually, he felt awful, but he wanted to keep some dignity, so he insisted to himself that he was fine. Even if the room was spinning and aches were beginning to creep up and around his muscles. Damn, was this some kind of flu? He didn't have time for it…

"You should go home, rest…" Roderich got closer and lightly held his arm to better coerce him. It didn't work, the blonde snapped, "I can't just walk out! I'm fine now!"

"Don't push yourself…"

"Would you stop?" Vash took his arm back, looking away from his own pale face in the mirror. "I-I can han… handle it…" Shit, the dizziness… It was pushing him off his feet. He reached for the counter, but the Austrian instantly had him in his arms. "Vash, I'm taking you back to the hotel."

"I-I don't… Nngh…" The room went from spinning under his feet to all around his head. Normally Roderich's warmth and his body would be enough to get him to shut up, but it was uncomfortable. Vash himself was feeling sickly hot.

"Switzerland! Where are you?" The small brunette wandered around the beautiful castle of Chateau de Chillon. He last heard the boy was around, but so far hadn't seen a single blonde hair or flash of green eyes.

A servant passed by him. "Master Austria, who are you looking for?"

"Switzerland!" He whirled around and looked up to the young woman, who was much taller than him. "Do you know…?"

"Oh, Master Switzerland is sick." She said. "You'll have to wait a week or so, else you'll fall ill as well."

"I'll be fine!" the brunette piped, now more eager than ever to see him. He managed to find the elaborate room his friend was hiding it, and he came in quietly, carefully closing the door. He recognized that always messy hair sticking out of the soft white sheets. He went over the bed, climbing on it. "Switzerland?"

A sickly grumble was his only reply. Switzerland hardly had the energy to make a decent greeting. He wouldn't even open his eyes. Austria frowned and scooted closer. He didn't get a response this time. Austria got under the thick covers, pulling their bodies close, not really caring that'd he'd probably get sick the next day. Switzerland knew this so he tried to pull away. "I-idiot, I'm contagious…" He breathed hard.

"S'okay. Ask me if you need anything."

"I-I need you to…" He was interrupted by a cough. "Get the hell out before you…" He coughed again but Austria wouldn't let him continue. "You always take care of me, so…"

"I know, I know!" Switzerland's face was already red from the fever, but Austria was making it worse. "Fine… I'm just going to sleep, so you'll be bored."

"That's alright, I'm tired anyway."

"And I'll be coughing and sneezing up gross stuff."

"There's some tissues right here."

"And I'll be irritated because my bones ache and my head hurts."

"But aren't you always irritated?"

"Shut up! I'm even more so now! Move over, I'll get my germs on you! What're you laughing at? Stop giggling like that! Hey!"

Vash had barley opened his heavy eyelids when he was already in a bad mood. The spinning was ongoing, he was hungry and sweaty. He couldn't even complain because his damn throat hurt. He groaned, shakily bringing himself up.

"That won't do. Lay down." A cold wet towel was pressed to his forehead, urging him to return to the covers. "Really now, you're so hasty."

God, he knew that scolding voice. But it sounded so concerned and sweet that he almost cursed himself for internally swooning like a girl. "Urg… Roderich…"

"Don't speak, you sound hoarse. I have water right here…"

"I don't want it…!" Vash sat up stubbornly, his voice raspy just like the other nation had said. "Wh-where…?"

"The hotel, like I said. You fainted."

That sounded girly. "I-I don't faint –"

"Fine, you passed out," Roderich sighed, slowly pushing him down again. "Rest, won't you? You can't travel home like this."

"The hell I'm staying here! Wha…" He stopped sputtering the minute Roderich slipped into the bed. "What are you doing?"

"If I leave, you'll just get up and make yourself worse." Roderich explained calmly, placing his glasses on the nightstand and removing his jacket. "I need to make sure you stay here."

"You pervert! You could just sit in a chair or something!"

"I like this better." His bluntness and arms wrapping around Vash made the blonde go from squirming to thrashing. "Wh-what! You're taking advantage of a sick person! I'll shoot you between the eyes!"

"I put your pistol away." Roderich kissed his cheek.

Vash frantically felt for his jacket pocket, which didn't do any good for two reasons – Roderich had him in a firm girp, and his jacket was gone… Along with his tie and shirt…

"Y-you stripped me?" He shrieked with wide eyes and a flushed face.

Roderich winced and shushed him. "Would you be quiet? It's just your shirt. You'd be sweating like crazy if you had it on."

"That's when you just remove the covers, you pervert!"

"I love you…"

"Don't say something like that when I'm yelling! It makes it harder to stay mad!"

"Then I'll just have to keep saying it." Roderich kissed his brow. "I love you Vash."

"God dammit…!"


The reason this took so long to update is because I seriously thought I had uploaded them all -fails-

I hate the ending, and to be honest it was rushed. Like, really rushed. I can think of a million better endings, and maybe it'll bother me so much I'll go back and re-do it.

But thanks to everyone who reviewed, watched and favorited! C: You guys make me blush. I really didn't expect this story to be good, since, hey, I honestly didn't have a plot in mind other than some Roddy-Vashy angst.

So thanks again! If you want more furry flower goodness, I'm writing a new AustroSwiss, Hallelujah. It'll be much more detailed and angst than this XD