Gilbert wandered into the parlor as Roderich finished his piece, his slim fingers sliding from the ivory piano keys as he rose from his seat. The Prussian slowly clapped his hands in praise as the Austrian glared at him over his glasses.

"Sehr gut!" Gilbert praised as he tried to ignore how that slight pout suited the aristocrat's face so well, "Wunderbar!"

"What do you want?" Roderich snapped as he stalked across the room and through a set of doors. Gilbert followed, snickering to himself. Ah, how he loved riling the Austrian up. It was almost too easy, really.

"Oh, nothing in particular," he drawled as he followed Roderich into a rather small sitting room. He plunked himself down on the sofa unceremoniously, grinning, "Just wanted to see how you were doing,"

Roderich arched an eyebrow at him as he elegantly took a seat in the armchair across from Gilbert, frowning. He grabbed a teacup and saucer from the small table beside him and held them daintily in his lap.

"How I am doing?" the Austrian said flatly as he took a sip of his tea, "Why are you really here?" he elaborated as he set his tea onto the saucer in his other hand with a barely audible clink. Gilbert smiled as he kicked up his heels and set them on the coffee table between the two of them. His grin only widened when he saw Roderich's eye twitch at the gesture.

"Why the third degree, Roderich?" Gilbert teased with a shrug, "Can't I just stop in and visit? I mean, it's not like I can't hear you playing piano from my room when you leave the window open," he added.

The other man didn't answer him, returning his attention to his tea instead. Gilbert smirked and briefly considered smacking the teacup out of the aristocrat's hands, but thought better of it. Nah, he'd come up with more awesome ways to annoy him.

"So you're bored, then," Roderich concluded as he shook his head, that delicate little curl in his hair swaying with the movement. Gilbert resisted the urge to reach out and yank it, but only just. No, there had to be something far more hilarious that he could do to really get the aristocrat going.

"Guilty," Gilbert admitted with a sigh, "What were you playing, anyway? Beethoven or something?" he asked, gesturing lazily toward the parlor in the adjacent room.

"Schubert, actually," Roderich corrected with a barely perceptible snarl. Gilbert grinned; he had struck a nerve. This should be good.

"Oh, you mean that German guy?" he asked innocently, though he knew full-well that he was wrong. He grinned in amusement as Roderich's head snapped up from his teacup, violet eyes flashing dangerously.

"Austrian," he corrected, "Schubert was AUSTRIAN," he twittered indignantly with a scowl.

"What? No he wasn't," Gilbert insisted, trying not to burst out laughing, "He was definitely German. Born in Berlin, wasn't he?"

"No, he was not," Roderich retorted angrily, his delicate features contorted into a deep scowl.

"Sure he was," Gilbert insisted with a chuckle, "Just like that Mozart guy,"

"Mozart was Austrian!" Roderich practically shouted as he slammed his cup and saucer back onto the table with a loud clank. Gilbert snickered, biting his lip to keep himself from bursting into an all-out laughing fit.

"Nein, nein," Gilbert insisted with a wave of his hand, "Most of the famous musicians were all German-you know that,"

"Oh? Like who?" Roderich demanded as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well...um..." Gilbert faltered, frowning thoughtfully. He wasn't by any means an expert, but he knew a few names, "Beethoven was German," he pointed out, wiggling his eyebrows. To his disappointment, Roderich nodded slowly, pouting. Damn it.

"Yeah, well...he did most of his work in Vienna, though," he pointed out.

"Wait...he was actually born in Germany?" Gilbert blurted, mostly to himself. Roderich raised an eyebrow at him. Thankfully, he seemed to take the comment as a challenge, which suited Gilbert just fine.

"So what if he was?!" Roderich demanded as he rose from his seat, "He didn't stay there and compose his music, did he? Hmm?"

"Uh-" Gilbert faltered.

"Nein, he did not!" the Austrian declared with a triumphant wave of his arm, "So by rights, he IS an Austrian composer," he insisted.

"Pfft," Gilbert dismissed as he shifted in his seat, "Doesn't matter-he was still born in Germany. He was GERMAN,"

"Not musically!" Roderich snapped, eyes alight with disdain.

"And that doesn't change the fact that Mozart and that other guy were German, too!" Gilbert teased, the other composer's name slipping his mind. Schmitt, or something? Eh, it didn't matter-he had said enough to keep the argument going.

The Austrian balled his hands into fists and began pacing around the room, muttering angrily to himself. Gilbert chuckled; he loved visiting Roderich. He really did.

"I don't know why you're getting so angry about it," Gilbert said lazily, watching the aristocrat stomp from one side of the room to the other. He turned and glared at the Prussian at that statement, narrowing those violet eyes into slits.

"Besides," Gilbert teased, "It's not like getting all pissy will change the fact that none of those composers you claim to be Austrian were actually from Austria-!"

He blinked in surprise as Roderich's hands grabbed the front of his shirt. He hadn't even seen him approach-how the hell had he managed to cross the room that quickly?

"Shut up!" Roderich demanded as he tightened his grip on Gilbert's shirt and shook him, "You don't know anything about music!"

Gilbert blinked up at him, noting how the Austrian's face was flushed scarlet with rage. His eyes glittered dangerously behind his lenses, mouth contorted into a scowl.

"Uh-" he stammered.

"Nein!" Roderich shouted, "I'm sick of you Germans constantly stealing my composers!" he cried as he viciously shook Gilbert for emphasis.

Gilbert growled, raising an eyebrow at him and frowning. As funny as it was to see Roderich get angry, he didn't appreciate being assaulted.

"Let go," he warned, grabbing the Austrian's thin wrists and wrenching them off of his shirt. Roderich resisted, tightening his grip on Gilbert's shirt with his long, bony fingers.

"Not until you admit that you're WRONG!" Roderich snapped.

"Let GO," Gilbert growled as he struggled, prying Roderich's fingers loose. He managed to loosen the left hand, but not the right, "Damn it, Roderich!" he snapped.

He flinched as the Austrian suddenly smacked him upside the head with the left hand that Gilbert had foolishly let go of. He paused for a solid two seconds before he could react, stunned.

"OW!" Gilbert exclaimed as he roughly shoved Roderich off of him, sending him into the coffee table. He plunked onto it messily, glasses askew.

"HA! Serves you right!" the Austrian declared as he straightened his glasses and stood up, "Now, all that remains is your apology for-OW!" he cried as Gilbert stalked over and smacked him. The Austrian bristled, violet eyes wide with shock for only the briefest of moments before narrowing with fury. He threw himself at Gilbert with a wordless cry, slim fingers aiming for his throat.

They tumbled to the floor, shouting at one another as Roderich pinned Gilbert down and grabbed his collar. He attempted to slam Gilbert's head into the floor, but Gilbert had so far managed to resist. He had his palms pressed against the Austrian's face, pushing him away as he cursed at him loudly.

"What the HELL is going on in here?" a booming voice demanded as heavy footfalls entered the room. The other two didn't seem to notice until a pair of rather muscular arms separated them.

"Let GO of me!" Roderich shrieked as Ludwig picked him up by the back of his shirt and held him aloft. Gilbert cackled insanely from where he lay on the floor, pointing up at Roderich as he continued to struggle, flailing his arms and legs indignantly.

He abruptly stopped laughing as Ludwig grabbed him and hoisted him off of the floor by the front of his shirt, holding him in mid-air across from a seething Roderich. He had stopped flailing about, but was by no means content. Scorn radiated from those violet eyes, directed at both Ludwig and Gilbert equally.

"HEY!" Gilbert shouted as he smacked his brother's arm away and placed his feet onto the floor, "The hell, Ludwig," he grumbled as he smoothed his shirt, glaring up at him with one eyebrow raised. The German did not look at pleased, blue eyes narrowed in a deep scowl. It was his usual expression, only amplified. Gilbert snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, here we go again," he mumbled as Ludwig set Roderich down and glared at the two of them.

"What do you two think you're doing?" he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

The other two men brooded silently for a minute, glaring at anything that was not Ludwig.

"Well?" the German demanded flatly.

"This idiot attacked me," Gilbert accused, stealing a look back at Roderich and snickering at the look of incredulity on the Austrian's face.

"Why, you-!" he retorted, but Ludwig cut him off.

"Enough!" he warned, rubbing his temples tiredly, "Can't you two just get along?"

Gilbert joined Roderich in raising his eyebrows at Ludwig, who sighed.

"Ja, I guess not," he muttered, "But still-you two were fighting like a couple of children!" he accused. Gilbert merely shrugged, while Roderich looked genuinely ashamed. Gilbert snorted, shaking his head.

"I apologize," Roderich muttered, rubbing the back of his head tiredly, "That was most undignified of me," he added with a slight bow.

Ludwig nodded at him and turned to Gilbert, who just shrugged again.

"Gilbert," Ludwig warned, raising an eyebrow.

"What, you want me to apologize?" Gilbert blurted with a bitter laugh, "PLEASE," he snorted, "I'm awesome Prussia-I don't apologize like a wimpy little aristocrat," he hissed, watching Roderich's face light up with rage. He guffawed loudly when Roderich attempted to run over and smack him or something and Ludwig held him back simply by outstretching his arm.

Ludwig sighed, throwing Roderich a warning look and grabbing Gilbert by the arm.

"HEY!" Gilbert snapped as Ludwig literally dragged him out of the room, "Let go!" he demanded, but the German was having none of it, "HEY, are you listening?!"

He stole a look back at the Austrian, whose mouth was curled into a wry smile. He lifted a delicate hand and waved mockingly at him as he was dragged out of sight.

"I HATE YOU!" Gilbert declared as Ludwig forced him out of the room.

Oh, Prussia, you do love to cause trouble. I think Austria might be becoming my new favorite character in Hetalia as I watch the series.

Thanks for taking the time to read! ^_^

Sehr gut - very good

wunderbar - wonderful

nein - no

ja - yes