AND, MY FOREVER IRREGULAR UPDATES CONTINUES. Cheers.

RECONNAISSANCE

"And the tomatoes were soooo big and plump! You should have seen them France!"

Said Frenchman watched as his Spanish friend ramble about the red fruit he's so fond of. It has been a long time since he has seen his friend as they have been both busy with their lives. He and Spain both went to their usual hangout bar and has been drinking and talking for hours now.

And yet, their Prussian friend still hasn't arrived.

France threw a concerned look at the door, slightly expecting that Prussia would enter any second.

"Antoine…when was the last time you've seen Gilbert…" France muttered softly.

The Spaniard blinked. "Well, when I came back my sticky notes were gone. Maybe Gil came around my house and saw it…"

"I saw him last week too." France rubbed his beard, contemplating. "He was acting jumpy." He let out a little laugh.

"Ah…I wonder how is he?" Spain frowned. "He never misses our monthly haunts…"

"Maybe we could visit him tomorrow, I'm sure L'Allemagne won't mind…" France grinned. "And I would like some of that beer Prussia served us last time."

"Yes, Germany has some good beer…"

"And you're saying that Prussia hasn't been here for more than a week now?" France asked, staring at the German.

"Ja, Frankeich." Germany rubbed his forehead. The Frenchman just had to ask, again, for like the fifth time.

"Then where is Gil?" Spain added.

"I thought he was with you." Germany said truthfully. Just where would Prussia be if not at Spain's or France's house. But then again, he sometimes crashes at Austria's place…Though that would be most unlikely…Austria hasn't come to drag Prussia home. It has been too long. Germany knows that Austria wouldn't last even a week around Prussia.

And more importantly, Hungary hasn't hurled his older brother back, like she usually does when the Prussian visits their home.

"But as you see,L' Allegmagne, Prussia isn't with us."

"I noticed." To Germany's horror it sounded more like an irritated groan.

"Do you know of other people he could be staying with or did you give him money?" Germany stared at the Frenchman.

"Why would I give Preussen money? It is his fault, well, now that you're here…" Germany gave a dark look over to his two visitors.

"Who drank my beer?"

France and Spain stiffened, both of them stealing a glance for the door. They weren't exactly a fan of Dark Germany that's for sure.

"Er…Y-you must be mistaken us for someone else! How about asking England or Denmark, yeah, Denmark! Prussia likes drinking with Denmark!"

The two of them managed to get out of Germany's house and stumble to Austria's with a few bruises and some broken ribs and all… Germany had been very merciful indeed.

"No, Prussia hasn't been here for a while." Austria said before sipping his tea. He didn't even notice the abnormally delighted aura around the Hungary, who stood behind him and was sparkling in delight at the Frenchmen and Spaniard's inquiries.

"Maybe he died in a ditch somewhere? Or maybe he got loss around Russia house~ Or maybe he drowned at the Mediterranean sea!" France and Spain cringed at the happy expression the girl's face. Austria merely continued to stir his tea, not feeling the atmosphere among the room…or ignoring it for all he cares.

"Eh…Hungary…no need to make such wild conclusions…" Spain said. Although he is unsuccessful at making the Hungary calm down.

"What if he got lost in Siberia and got eaten by wolves?!" France shivered at how happy Hungary sounded while saying such grave things. But then the Frenchman eased when he saw the sullen look on the Hungarian's face. France smiled. He knew that Hungary would never truly wish for the Prussian's death. They're friends and-

"I hope the wolves didn't have stomachaches."

"Ne, H-hungary.." Spain said grimacing. He looked at Hungary before letting his eyes on France who looked like his soul was ready to give up on this hopeless case.

"Still…"

The three of them turned to Austria, who has been watching all this time and secretly reveling in France's misery, waiting for what he would say.

"…If he isn't here nor in your places or Germany's…Where would the uncouthly man go?" Austria said, voice cold and ringing through the walls of his house. A flash of light broke the uneasy atmosphere in the room. That and Hungary running frantically through the hallway, camera at hand.

Spain and France left Austria's house, thinking of what Austria said.

MEANWHILE AT THE Kirkland household

"And that's what happened! It was my fault, what Gilbert did was to be expected and GET AWAY FROM HIM ALLISTOR!"

"Whit?" Scotland answered, smoke puffing out of his fag and into the face of the person he's closest to, which is Gilbert. Arthur frowned when Prussia cough a little due to the smoke.

"No smoking inside the house, Scotland."

The three of them turned toward Wales who was looking down them from the stairs, preferring to stay away from the discussion. Although Arthur could see that his brother still wasn't appeased.

He still looked like he would like to make barbeque out of England's guest.

"Aye, aye."

"Don't even think of putting that out anywhere near Prussia." England threw an ashtray at Scotland.

Scotland smirked as he deftly caught the ashtray in his hand. "So much for not smoking in the house…"

"I wasn't smoking. " A grunt was heard from Scotland.

"When is he leaving?" Northern Ireland said, not even pretending not to glare at the Prussian.

"He'll be staying a while, North."

"But-"

"I was the one who invited him. He'll be staying."

An atmosphere of finality came over the room. Prussia only stared at the four brothers. He feels relieved he has Germany for a brother. That and he is the older one, younger ones must have it rough… Prussia thought as he stared at England.

"I'm guessing you'll stay for dinner too?" England broke the silence, standing up from his chair, looking at his brothers. Prussia could tell that this is something that happens often.

"Well, it's too late to go home." Wales sighed, no longer speaking the many arguments he has about his brother's decision.

"O'im staying until he leaves." Northern Ireland said, piercing holes though Prussia's head.

"What's fer dinner?" Scotland asked, sitting down on Arthur's place, lighting another cigarette, not caring if England or Wales glare at him.

"I think I have some gammon steaks…I think I would make pork cassoulet."

"That's French."

"Scotland, don't start."

"Ah'm jist sayin' it's French."

"I know that." Arthur spat before walking to the kitchen. But he turned sharply and stared at Gilbert.

"Well, do you want to stay here or will you help me?"

"Huh, why?"

"Because idiot, you don't honestly expect me to leave you alone here, where Scotland has easy access to your head."

Gilbert immediately followed when he heard a deep chuckle from the Scotsman and a disappointed grunt from Wales. There is no way he would survive the night with at least having his neck, spine and ribs in perfect condition.

Without tailing England at least.

"Are you people all insane?"

"I don't want to hear that from you of all people." England spat as he mixed together the beans, onion, garlic, carrots and tomatoes in a bowl. Prussia could smell the frying pork belly. He watched as England rushed to put the sausages and bacon chops in the frying pan. He tried not to laugh as he watched the Englishman fret about his gammons.

Seeing Arthur Kirkland fussing is an amusing sight.

"Arthur…" Prussia laughed. "Take it easy and relax. You'll burn the pork belly if you don't keep on a straight head and relax." The Prussia grinned when the Englishman glared at him for a second before continuing.

Prussia noticed that the man's shoulders weren't as tensed as they were before.

The two of them stayed like that. England doing the cooking while Prussia watched and found himself whistling some punk song he knew both him and England like. Of course, it was out of tune but England laughed at him and finally relaxed after the day's events so Prussia guessed it is fine even though being laughed at by a stiff-lipped Englishman man who nearly is not as awesome as him is unawesome.

Prussia wouldn't lie when he would say that this is far from what he would expect in a Kirkland dinner. Specially after the many stories of flying cutlery, particularly the knives. Yes, France had been specific about the knives.

However, as he watched Arthur and his brothers eat, he couldn't help but feel this very, very tense atmosphere close in on him. Specially those pairs of eyes that have been staring at him ever since he took the seat next to their host.

Said host, now fidgeting a little. The slightly tensed movements that most people would disregard and think nothing of. But most people haven't seen England relax or drunk for that matter.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" Arthur asked as he grimaced at his brothers. Prussia had an inkling that pleasantries between these four aren't a normal thing.

"Did ye cook this?" Scotland poked his fork on the gammons. The look on his face half-skeptical and half-relieved. Prussia also saw something akin to fear as the red-haired man examined their dinner.

Arthur snorted. "Yes, you bastard. Don't worry. I didn't mistake the rat poison for salt or anything."

"Ah wasnae sayin that."

"Your face shows it all, Scotland."

"Scotland didn't mean anything, England." The people on the table looked over to Wales, who reached for some of the gammons. "I think we are all surprised not to be served something burnt this time."

"WALES!"

Wales only laughed as began eating his dinner. "It's delicious by the way." The Welshman winked at England. Prussia had to wonder if his eyesight was going awry or did he just see sparkles and flowers bloom around the man.

"T-thank you." England stuttered and ducked his head. It was obvious to everyone present in the table that the Englishman was blushing.

"Oi, no flirting during dinner." Scotland said as he proceeded to eat. All the while ignoring the indignant spluttering mess that was England and the slightly crooked smile from Wales.

Prussia blinked. Well… just what kind of relationship do these people have? And just what France had experience with these people.

"Gilbert? Why aren't you eating?" Prussia turned to his side, meeting England's questioning gaze. The Prussian grinned at the signs of worrying in the Englishman's face.

"Nothing, The Awesome was just about to."

"Egoistic prick."

"Yeah, yeah, Artie. Mind passing the-" Prussia was cut off by a flying fork aiming straight to his head. His breath hitched when the fork missed, by only a few millimeters.

"Scot said no flirtin' during dinner." Northern Ireland glowered at the Prussia, before grabbing another utensil, this time a knife.

Prussia is lucky that he had survived Northern Ireland's Tornado of silverware technique, that and he had managed to continued eating and finish it. All thanks to England who reprimanded his younger brother with the promise of kicking all of them out for the evening.

Evening

Prussia lay on his bed, tired and sore from the day's strenuous events. Deciding to go to sleep early might be for the best although he did regret not asking England to go out drinking. It has been a while since the last time he had drank beer even though it is piss water compare to good old German beer. But then again, Prussia has heard of many stories about just how the Kirkland brothers act when drunk… he quickly suppress the desire to drink because he still loves his awesome life for that matter.

The Prussian sighed.

When Germany lets out some steam and forgives him, he will certainly think twice before pissing the hell out of his brother.

Gilbert almost wanted to cry when he thinks of just how blest he is to have a younger brother like Germany.

The platinum-haired man quickly discarded his clothing, preferring to sleep with only his boxers on and dived straight to bed. Hopefully, by tomorrow he could ask England to go out drinking, that is if he's lucky that the man's brothers would leave soon.

A knock came to his door. Gilbert was debating with himself whether to answer it. After all, there were people in this house that wants nothing more but punch his guts out, burn him to crisp with a dragon and chase him with pitchforks.

"Gilbert, it's me for goodness sakes. Open up."

The Prussian blinked and jumped out of bed. He opened the door for the Englishman, confusion drawn on his face.

"What are you doing here?" Gilbert started.

"Well, I-I wanted to say sorry." Arthur said, crossing his arms, frowning. Gilbert's eyebrows knotted even more.

"Why?"

"Don't be such a wanker, Gilbert. You know why."

"Oh?" Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Is it about me being punch and almost killed by flying forks of death? Because if it was I'm sure my Awesomeness would have been able to-" Gilbert was cut off when Arthur kicked his knee, hard.

"Yes, that." Arthur huffed. "…and for being an insensitive jerk." He said, purposely making it an almost unintelligible murmur.

Gilbert's eyes widen slightly as he barely heard what the Englishman said. He always thought England is a prideful man who didn't know how to say sorry. He knew that is one of the few things they had in common.

"Ah…I'm also sorry for tackling you and pushing you down too hard…" Gilbert turned his eyes away and scratched the back of his head. "…Does your wrist still hurt?" He asked, not used to making apologies.

Arthur blinked before lifting his arm and showing it the Prussian. "No. Wales wrapped it up for me."

"That's cool." Gilbert said lamely, not knowing what to say. Arthur's eyes wandered towards the man's face, which still looked sore.

"Ah, I forgot." Arthur reached out to inspect the taller man's face, taking in the hissing sound he made on contact. "I'm sure this hurts."

The Prussian rolled his eyes. "Of course it does. Not to mention I think I broke something from that when I was so easily tossed across the room by your brother's rampage."

Arthur huffed. "I said I was sorry okay?" He quickly shoved a white box on Gilbert's face. "And damn it if I didn't know that already."

Gilbert blinked as he took in what Arthur said. "Thanks." Gilbert said before grabbing the box only to be stopped by the other man.

"I-I'll help you."

"You don't have to. I can do it myself." Gilbert said, staring at Arthur's determined eyes.

"Just let me help! It was MY FAULT in the first place."

"It wasn't anyone's fault, England. I can do it myself."

"Damn it Prussia. You're my guest and it's my responsibility to do it!" An awkward silence came between them.

Prussia sighed, sounding considerably more put out than he should have done, but did not argue back. "Well? Are you going to do it or what?"

England took this to be a good sign and drew in a deep –but quiet- breath in relief and smiled at the Prussian. "Sit on the bed."

"Ja, ja." England rolled his eyes at the man's sarcasm but even so followed the man's lead and climbed on the bed as well. He took out some gauze and band aid.

"Does it sting?" England asked, pointing at the man's cheeks.

"Of course it does. I don't think it has some open wounds though but it will bruise." Arthur nodded as he slathered ointment on the patch.

"Wales has a pretty strong arm even though he looks like that."

"…I already know that. France has some stories about him you know."

England chuckled. "Well…he's been at the receiving end of Wales' ire many times." He abruptly stuck the patch on the Prussian's face, patting it more than necessary making the man hiss.

"Geez, Arthur. You certainly lack the 'gentle' in gentleman." Gilbert winced at the pain and glared at the Englishman.

Arthur quirked an eyebrow, looking vaguely amused. "Whatever you say, Gilbert." He stood up and walked towards the door.

"Arthur!"

Arthur paused and looked back at the Prussian. "What is it Gilbert?"

"Danke."

England blinked at Prussia's bizarrely frank expression, before he smiled, small and genuine. "You're welcome."

"Gute nacht."

"Good night."

"Isn't this sweet."

Arthur stood still while Gilbert stared at the man behind Arthur. The two of them could hear the smirk on the man's lips.

"Allistor, you're still awake?" Arthur asked turning toward the man.

"Aye, Ah cannae sleep."

"You didn't touch my drinks cabinet did you?"

"Nae. I was going to go drag you out of bed to drink with me but…" Allistor smirked at the Prussian. "…I see you're preoccupied."

Both of them flushed at the man's insinuation, Arthur spluttering endless strings of excuses while Gilbert just stared dumbfounded at the man.

"Aye, aye. Whatever you say Albion." With that, Allistor walked away from the door, not without glancing at the Prussian of course, with England trailing behind. Gilbert only heard closing of door before he stood up and closed his own, turning off the lights.

I atleast know where this story is going but when I say that don't hope for sooner updates. I'm too lazy I know but I know I want to continue this one because PrUk is the one pairing I don't think I'll ever get enough of. SO SAD ABOUT THE LACK OF IT.

Congratulations on not being barbequed to death, Prussia.