Papa! Papa! Can we go see Grandpa?

Not today. I don't want you walking out there in the rain.

But what if he's lonely? O-or needs help? What if he gets hurt?!

Germany sat at the table, continuing to look around at the recently remodeled house. From the stories his father had told and the eventually run-down of the place once the owner left, it was completely different. Down with the fence, the rubble of it having been cleared away come the past two weeks, and up with the green blades of grass on the lawn again. The once broken shingles and bars on the windows were gone, the outer shell of the house looked a lot more welcoming.

The house was a lot more cozier inside. The atmosphere was light, much lighter when Germany looked back at when he was little. His dad always told him that bad things had happened in here, and to stay far away. That, along with the haunted house feeling, was enough to keep him far away and drag the other neighborhood kids out of dares. Russia being one of them. . . A lot of the times.

But the aromas coming from the plate in front was helping distract from that. The salad was standard, but the chicken slices had a unique tangy taste due to their sauce. (Not me describing my favorite meal.) Off to the side was a more familiar taste, something America called 'double-baked potatoes' and 'cream corn'. The rolls were buttered, and were clearly homemade. And all good.

The conversation was silenced by the food, stopping when Japan commented on it. New Zealand paused a forkful of the buttery corn to reply back. Canada nodded as well, having drowned half of his plate in maple syrup which ended up making a weird combo once it hit the pinapple sauce on the chicken.

Aussie looked prepared to just rip into a chunk of the bird, seeming to silently challenge his brother America. Both were nearly shot down by the deathly quiet glare of Zee.

Emphasis on nearly.

American proceeded to cram a decent chunk of the bird down his throat, shredding through it easily. Zee's disappointment could be felt from where even Germany was sitting, which was near the other side of the long table.

Canada felt it too, chuckling slightly.

Japan hadn't paid attention, delicately making sure her bird was sliced up into nice little bites. South Africa, or Zar as she preferred, was the opposite. She'd only cut the last second.

Russia was busy wondering how the Maple-leafed flag obtained so much syrup, China concerned on how the red and white country was able to eat potatoes drowned in syrup.

But something seemed off to Germany.

"Hey America. I think you got something in your teeth."

Still sporting his shades, the Freedom country looked at Germany. "Yeah. Probably my chicken." He lightly picked at them, paying no attention to Germany's sharp gaze before snagging after chunk of the bird.

"Um. You didn't tell us that you had fangs Ame."

America swiftly swallowed as to explain.
"Well. I thought every flag had them."
"Clearly not!"
"I don't get how this is a big deal." Ame retorted, Aussie adding a nugget of info. "Would explain why Mom didn't have any."

Canada pipped in.
"Same. I didn't know it was a major issue. Does that mean something is wrong?"
"I-I. No. It's just, unusual. We've only had one other country here to date that had fangs, but they left before I got to meet them."

New Zealand reined in the conversation, to now Germany noticed he was taking small bites for a reason.
"Must be a family trait then. The rest of us have them as well." He pointed out his own, Aussie happily doing the same. The youngest definitely had the sharpest looking of the bunch. Canada's looked more dull, the eldest looking the dullest.

"Speaking of unusual things, why the shades Stripes?" Russia asked after slowly acknowledging the family's unique features.

"Oh. I'm sensitive to light. These were just the best course of action for everyone. You guys can see, and I don't have to avoid bright areas." He explained calmly, going back to finish his dinner.

Something stopped him, America looking under the table. As New Zealand and Australia were busy talking to China and South Africa, Ame slid a chunk of the bird under the table.

Germany couldn't see what was under, but he assumed that it was the house dog.

Russia took notice of the apparent pup, slipping his own bird underneath. Ame hissed out a playful 'traitor' as Russia gained a pleased/smug look on his face.

"Your dog is fun. Funner than the cat."
"Yeah. Rosie's more fun than Sam. Huh? Aren't cha pretty girl." By now Ame was on the floor, a bundle of golden floof already in his lap. The Labrador seemed more interested in licking off any spare food off her owner's face than snuggles. Her tail was busy sending off new loose hairs, adding 'decoration' to the recently vacuumed floor.

By now the head of the house had finish, casually picking up his plate and heading to the kitchen. Japan, who had also finished and had been somewhat worried about what to do with the dishes, followed. A clean house is a happy house she'd often claim.

South Africa and Australia were hitting it off pretty good, Canada forced to be in their conversation as he was sitting right between the two. None of the three bothered with their plates for now, leaving New Zealand to sigh.

Almost like he did this every. Single. Day, Zee loaded up the rest of his brother's plates onto his own. He looked to have a system, Aussie and America always switching places between the two middle of the stack, Zee's on the bottom, and Canada's plate brimming with sticky syrup soup leftovers on top. Japan took this new info in with focused observations.

Back on the floor, it had become a 'silent' war of sorts between America and Russia over the attention of Rosie.
"Your dog likes me better. Admit it Stripes."
"Least I don't look like I'm wearing a dog on my head."
"More proof of why Rosie likes me better. And it is a ushanka."

America got a wave of confidence, ready to play one of his Aces.

"Rosie. Walkies?"

Those two simple words were enough to send Rosie rocketing out of Russia's lap back to America's. She gave a happy yip, ecstatically making laps around and nipping at America. Russia gave a hearty laugh at the pup's reaction. "Good move."

New Zealand poked his head out of the kitchen. "Rosie can wait till after the guests leave. Besides, it's still daylight out. Don't you walk her in the evenings?"

"Alright, alright. Ok Rosie. Bone."

The dog gave Ame a confused look, before registering the word and making a break for the pantry. By now New Zealand had ducked back into the kitchen. "Japan! You didn't have to wash all of our dirty dishes! I could've done that."

Stars 'n Stripes left Russia on the floor, going to fulfill his promise.

From the land across the kitchen table, Canada was able to break away and leave Zar and Aussie to their own devices. . . Which probably wasn't a good thing.

What also may not have helped was that Ukraine and Belarus were in for the ride as well. As a squadron, the four had moved to the living room. Aussie had broke off, dashing up the stairs.

"Oi! Aussie! Don't bring down Cherub or any other arachnids, k?" Canada called up, hearing back a 'k'.

Upon hearing the name 'Cherub', New Zealand finished cleaning up in record time.

"Just curious. Have any of you played 'Mess with your neighbor?'" The older of the four brothers asked the rest. While hearing plenty of 'no's, Zee was most pleased to hear a certain young country come tumbling down the stairs.

"You mean '(censored) your neighbor?"

"AUSSIE!!!"

"You're close Aus. It's actually 'Frick your neighbor'."
"AME! You will NOT be encouraging that!"
"Zee. . I-. L-let's be reasonable here."
"I think you better run Ame." Canada suggested, making a debut in the 'conversation' between America and New Zealand.

And thus the house descended into its usual chaotic mess.