Order No. 87

[2]

Germany moped around the house for a couple of days after she had been told the news. Italy was gone due to internal conflict happening in Rome that he had to attend to with Romano, and she was glad to not deal with her ally for a couple of days. She wasn't sure what her time limit was to get pregnant, but she presumed she didn't have the luxury of getting pregnant when she was ready to. She knew her boss wanted her to get pregnant immediately, and this made her even madder.

I'm not a baby machine. I'm Germany! I conquered almost all of Europe in less than five years! This is ridiculous. And if he hates Italians that much, why does he want me to get pregnant with Italy's child? This makes no sense!

Prussia was out of the house for an indefinite amount of time as he was in the Eastern front, and she wouldn't admit it to anyone, but she was feeling alone and miserable. Not even Japan could accompany her since he was busy in the Pacific. Sadly he had severely underestimated how personally America would take Pearl Harbor and the last she knew about him was that he was in the Solomon Islands. She wished him the best because these days Japan was getting thinner and more stubborn.

And so now that she was jobless and directionless, she was getting stir crazy from doing nothing all day. She had tried to sneak back into the Frankfurt base to at least say a proper goodbye to her men, albeit it a quick one, but she had been almost shot down by her boss's orders to fire at anyone on sight that looked like her. Her men had been warned that she might go against his wishes and try to sneak back into work, and her boss took every precaution to completely exclude her from everything involving the military. Her generals and soldiers couldn't talk to her anymore (with pained eyes she could tell, remorseful voices of sorry, it's an order), and she was locked out of all government buildings where she had once had exclusive access before. She had the same rights as a citizen now, a normal human woman, and it infuriated her.

She had less power than the local butcher down the street.

And she was Germany.

The only thing she had was her military uniform and necklace. On the third day, she had gotten desperate and asked to be at least a secretary. It didn't require her to be out in the field, she could work while pregnant, and she would be surrounded by other women. If Hitler was so hell bound to gender roles all of a sudden, then surely that was fine?

(No, it hadn't been fine. She needed to be home. She was to get fat and pregnant. She didn't need to worry her pretty little head about war anymore.)

Germany sighed walking toward her door. She had just gotten done grocery shopping for the second time that week, and the men at the stand had asked if she was taking her vacation early this year. She was usually never at the market at this time of day alone. They had also found it strange that she hadn't been wearing her uniform like always, some men joking that they had thought it was actually part of her skin when born, and they had been surprised to see her walking around in something casual.

She still didn't wear skirts and instead opted to wear slacks. She had tailored them herself to make them not appear so baggy on her form, and her choice of clothing was something that gave her many side-eyes and occasional police officers when going out. It was ridiculous in her opinion to be stopped by law enforcement over her clothing, but they would always ask her if she knew what she was wearing as if she was unable to look into a mirror. Men in uniforms would patronize her until she explained who she was. Normally she would flash her insignia and then that would shut them right up, every soldier knowing about the elusive and mysterious Commander Germany within the military rank, perhaps urban legend at this point by how exaggerated the stories could be about her, but now that her ranking within the military was gone, it was essentially laughable to prove that she had any authority.

Not wanting to think about her boss and the potential future changes to her lifestyle, she opened the door to her house with a bit of a struggle. She had bought a lot of food for when Italy would come back. Her boss had sent her a hefty amount of money yesterday for the "second life growing in her". She had almost punched the poor paperboy.

She eventually managed to juggle the large paper brown bags resting in the crux of her forearm while jostling the keys to open the door to her house. She set down the bags of groceries on the kitchen table immediately and then shut the door. She began to take off her shoes until she heard loud footsteps.

"Germany?! Are you home?"

Her stomach dropped.

Oh no! Italy's home! Does he know about the order?!

Italy was like an excitable puppy that didn't have full control of his legs as he fell down the last set of stairs in a helpless yelp. She heard thuds and sounds of pain, and she rushed over the staircase to see if he was okay.

He was tangled in a heap of limbs on the floor, his face pressed against the wood as if all the weight came crashing on his left side only, and she wouldn't be surprised if he would need to pop his neck later from the position. She checked to see if he had broken anything, the impact of the fall surely enough to do something to his unconditioned body.

"You idiot, what have I told you about running down the stairs! Check that there's a step underneath you!" she scolded helping him get back together. He was rubbing his head in pain from where he had fallen, and she glanced at his body to make sure there weren't any hidden injuries.

He laughed the pain away, glad to see her. "I got excited! I was getting bored without you!" He recovered in an instant and hugged her.

She wasn't surprised by the hug but she always did blush when in close contact with him. Recently, it was getting harder to ignore how nice he smelled and how different their bodies were when hugging so close.

She patted his back awkwardly, and Italy backed away glad to see her and get his hug.

"I bought food," she informed jerkily.

Italy perked up. "Did you get pasta?"

Germany made her way back to the kitchen. "I managed to find some pasta at the market today, luckily."

Italy was already rummaging through her groceries trying to see what else she had bought. He did always love it when she went grocery shopping. He pulled out a pastry wrapped in a thin bag and blinked. He took off the covering and was met with a large sugary cookie with a smiley face written in strawberry jam. The cookie was large, almost as large as his face, and it was heavy. It was a soft sugar cookie and remarkably cute in its innocence. Italy smiled and held up the cookie to his face.

"Hey, Germany turn around."

...

AN: Italy has entered the picture! And he does so by falling flat on his face. Germany's going to have a tough road in front of her...

Anyway, thanks for reading! Don't forget to leave me a comment to let me know what you thought, and, of course, all votes are loved! The next update will be on Friday, so stay tuned. I will see you guys very soon :)