Alfred set out plates, one in front of either of his guests, and started dishing out the food. Dinner tonight was simple; home-made chicken and dumplings, just to make sure it was easy on the injured nation's stomach, and was traditional to appeal to the Russian's taste.
He sat down on one side of the table, propping his elbows up on the table, a cup of coffee in his hands. "What is this?" China inquired, poking at it with his fork experimentally.
"Chinken and dumplings, but not the way you do it. It's a midwestern dish that is usually made among families during the colder months," he replied, taking a disinterested sip out of his mug.
Yao leaned over and whispered to Ivan, "Will this taste like grease and salt?"
Russia laughed, "No. Contrary to what you all believe, and the fact that he was raised by England, he is actually a very good cook, if not one that makes gourmet things." He paused, then looked pointedly at the American in question. "And speaking of contrary to evryone's beliefs of you, Fedya, you need to eat."
"I ate earlier while you were working and Yao was asleep," Alfred excused, shrugging it off.
"No, you didn't. Eat." Ivan stood, fixing the other a bowl and setting it in front of him, along with a fork and a bottle of water. Alfred grumbled in protest, but started eating nonetheless. China couldn't help but stare at the display of the relationship dynamic between the two superpowers, who were thought to be bitter towards each other at the best of times, and flat-out homicidal during the worst.
"So, Ivan, I never asked: why are you here? I mean, I was told I was dropped off here by Hong Kong and some of my other siblings, and Japan left a note for me, so I know what I'm still doing at the westerner's house." China set his fork down in his bowl, focusing instead on his person of query.
Just before he could answer, Alfred cut in, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "I called him here to make sure I could discuss this with you both at the same time." He let his hand fall under the table, brushing Ivan's in an attempt of reassurance. Whether that's what it was taken as or not, he wasn't sure; he would just have to hope that his closest personal ally trusted him enough to not question anything quite yet.
"Well?" the oldest of the three prompted, looking at him expectantly. "What did you call us here for?"
Alfred took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I need your help taking over the world."
~*~*~*~
eeyyy i updated again and apparently alfie's taking over the world... why? im not sure, hes just kinda doing whatever he wants and throwing his power around just because he can
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A Price to Pay
FanfictionWhen would you consider someone else's life over your own? Is a secret worth the price that you'd have to pay to keep it? sequel to The Secrets Out (book one)
