~ Ciao ~

Jax, the editor, here! This Fanfiction is written by my best friend, Sarah, and I really enjoyed it so I wanted to share it~ It is quite pleasant to read and it's very amusing~ Anywho, it is Spamano so if you don't like it, then don't read it.

Alrighty then, enjoy~


(2P Spain and Regular Romano)

Spain strolled on the cobblestones of a small southern Spanish town, his eyes drifting over the landscape as a soft wind tousled his hair.

"Spain?" A voice called behind him, sounding confused and irritated. "Antonio? Is that you?"

Spain ducked his head at the familiar voice, attempting to avoid a conversation with the Italian. His footsteps sped as he attempted a getaway.

"Spain? Cazzo, get your ass back here and tell me what's going on!" The voice rose at the same time of the tempo of his footsteps, "Bastard!"

Spain hesitated, hearing the obvious dislike in the other's voice- that didn't sound right, not like the Romano he knew. Cautiously he turned, wariness written over his features.

The Italian ran up to him, and Spain immediately noticed the difference. His entire posture was different, irritation clear in the tightness of his shoulders. The ends of his darkened hair fell into his eyes, and he brushed it away to reveal eyebrows that had lowered into what appeared to be a familiar expression on the boy's face. Only Spain knew from experience it wasn't familiar.

"Romano?" The Spaniard questioned, uneasiness rolling in his stomach. Something was wrong here. This was Romano, yet at the same time, it very much so wasn't.

"About time you turned around, asshole." Romano's voice was hard as flint, an unfamiliar tone towards Spain. "You're the only one around here I recognize, so if this is some sick joke, I suggest you spill now."

Spain frowned. "If this is some trick to get my attention…"

Romano threw him an incredulous look. "Why in the hell would I be trying to get your attention? You're thinking backwards."

Spain blinked. "Because you always have?"

Romano stared at Spain, a more irritated form of disbelief penetrating his stare. Slowly, his features transformed as the truthful tone of Spain's words sunk in. "Where am I?" he whispered.


Romano sat quietly, his hands curled around a lukewarm cup of tea. His eyes would focus on the table and then flash up to focus on Spain's back, then back to the smooth tabletop.

Now that he looked more closely, he could see the differences between this Spain and his own. This Spain seemed darker somehow, not just in the way his hair had turned from warm chocolate brown waves to inky black strands. No, his body seemed weighted down even, his broad shoulders tighter and expression guarded. A smile seemed like a stranger to this Antonio's face.

"So," Spain pulled one of the kitchen chairs back with a scrape across the floor, falling into it with a muffled thump. "You say you're from another dimension?" The frown on the man's face seemed to suggest he didn't put much faith into the claim.

Romano threw the darker man a glare. "I don't see any other reason that I would actually like you."

Spain ignored the insult and pulled a hand through his hair, contemplating. "And all of us are different there?"

Romano nodded, sipping from the teacup. "Feliciano, you, I—all of the countries are different. Though you seem to think we come second. In my opinion, I'm pretty sure you're second. I don't see how any sane version of myself would willingly follow you around like a puppy without the sense to smell the obnoxious on you."

A dark eyebrow rose over Spain's face. "You certainly are…. Different."

Romano snorted. "I don't particularly care of your opinion of me. I'd just like to get home."

"So you can get back to me admiring you?" Spain sneered. "Are your feelings hurt by me ignoring you?"

Romano expression turned dark, and he stood abruptly from the table, nearly slamming the teacup onto the smooth wooden table. He tossed it into the sink that was overflowing with dishes without even looking. "So where is the pathetic version of me that follows you?"

"Hopefully far away," Spain frowned, pushing his own chair back to follow the Italian without entirely sure why he was doing so.

Romano rolled his eyes. "Geez, so I'm stuck with you here?" He threw a glare over his shoulder.

Spain shrugged. "It's my house. If you don't want to be here, then just get out."

A click echoed through the home, and both the men silenced. Spain's eyes flickered to the face of the Italian, dangerously closed off. The mouth of a gun was pointed dead center at the dark man's forehead.

"You are going to help me find my way back, whether you like it or not." The edge in Romano's voice was sharp as steel. "I want to get back, even if that means I'll end up stuck around that happy bastard of Spain all the time. Why? Because it's my Spain."

Spain narrowed his eyes. "And if I don't?"

Romano's smile was more dangerous than the glare he had on moments before. "Then you get to meet the bullet currently loaded in this gun."


So, how is it so far? Not too shabby I hope~ Anyways, enjoy the next chapter!

Reviews please and thank you~