What if...

Chapter Thirteen~

I was reading my newest victim, "The Boys with the Golden Stars", when it happened. The door suddenly flew open and I was snatched up, dropping my book, and out the door and into a car, driving away so fast I had to blink a few times to figure out what happened. When I could finally see again, I noted the blond in the driver's seat, the brunette in the front, and the albino next to me and realized that the BTT had kidnapped me.

"Ohnhonhon~ Bonjour, Carmen," France cackled, smiling at me through the rearview mirror.

I paled.

~*~

Romania heard crashing above him and frowned, running up, meeting his younger brother in the hallway.

"What happened?" he asked.

Moldova shook his head, holding the book. "I don't know! But Carmen isn't here!"

"Rahat!" Romania cursed, racing to the door. He had it half way open before Moldova stopped him. (Shit!)

"Frate, look!" (Brother)

Romania turned to see the boy waving a slip of paper and closed the door, taking it.

Things were getting too quiet for us. So we decided to steal Carmen for the day. Don't worry, she'll be safe with us!

- Prussia, Spain, and France.

The blond cursed again, crumpling the paper in his fist. Moldova looked up at him, scared.

"D-does Russia have her...?"

Romania smiled reassuringly at him. "Oh, no. She's safe. Just not as safe as I'd want her to be..."

"Who took her?"

"Prussia, Spain, and France."

Moldova paled.

~*~

"Why did you guys kidnap me again?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest and glaring at the three countries.

"Kesesesese! Ve vere bored!"

I raised a brow. "And so you decided to kidnap a girl. During a time of war."

"But of course, ma chère. Do you like drinking?" (My dear)

I deadpanned, slowly turning to look at the German next to me.

"Was?" he asked, indignant. "Ve like to drink! And I saw zhe way you vent zhrough our beer!" ("What", not "was", pronounced "vas".)

I groaned. "Really?"

Spain smiled at me. "You like your alcohol?"

France chuckled gleefully. "Do you like ma wine?"

I glared at the trio before tossing my head and looking out my window. "I like my drink, yes. And I prefer mead over wine."

France looked insulted. "But zhe grapes!"

I glared at him. "Grapes are suppose to be turned into juice or be eaten, not fermented."

"Honey has no comparison to grapes!"

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Go stick your head in a masher."

Toni and Gilbert, in the mean time, were snickering.

"A girl told Francis off!" Toni roared.

I smirked, feeling proud of myself.

"Zhat's mien Carmen!"

I shot a look at Prussia. "Pardon?"

He smirked, sliding closer to me. I punched his chest, sending him back to his side.