[ March 28th ] Caution: Wet Floor

[Natalia Arlovskaya]

Belarus almost wished the two of them were going out so that she wouldn't have to worry about any single people wandering around to potentially become one with Russia. She'd have to keep her eye on both of them. Belgium, because she was a pretty blond capable of snatching someone away. America, because one never knows when someone is gay and though Belarus' Gaydar was virtually broken, it still pointed at things like couches, lamps and North American countries.

"I see," she said with a nod. She turned away from the two of them, her face embarrassed and flushed. "Perhaps the two of you should change that."

It made sense to her. If you wanted to be dating someone or engaged to someone, it was as easy as адзiн два тры.

[Alfred F. Jones]

Belarus had been talking about him? Oh. Ooooh. With America's sudden understanding came a sudden change in expression and a sudden increase in awkwardness felt. This wasn't helped at all when Belarus implied that she thought the two of them should start dating.

America wasn't blushing. Going to the dance with her was one thing, but dating was something different. And they'd only just met today. But Belle came from a land that made lots of chocolate...

But no! He shouldn't be thinking about Belle's chocolate at a time like this. He should be telling Belarus to mind her own beeswax.

"Belle and I only just met..." was the best response he could come up with on the fly.

[Belle Rousseau]

"Yeah," she said almost immediately after Alfred. "Only a few minutes ago, actually."

She had know idea why someone she had just met was so keen on her being with someone else she just met. It was very odd. Was this custom in Belarus? It certainly wasn't in Belgium...or America as far as she could tell. It was remarkable how a situation could go from easy-going and mildly comfortable to fantastically awkward in a matter of moments.

[Natalia Arlovskaya]

It is not quite clear where it came from but Belarus was now holding a knife and it was stuck in the wall next to her after having been slammed there by the very person gripping its handle tightly. Her eyes were narrowed and her voice was suddenly slightly raspy to match the ambiance of the somewhat dark doorway she was now standing in.. "Marriage..."

She plucked the knife from the wall with a bit of force and the walls seemed to cry from the mighty trees that had lost their lives to give the school the plywood that was surely not meant to be stabbed so brutishly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Alfred," she admitted. She was embarrassed that she had made such an assumption of the two of them. How silly and rude of her.

[Alfred F. Jones]

America was beginning to think the question "Why is Belarus doing ____?" was completely useless and would get him nowhere. Kind of like algebra. So he ignored the blatant show of violence against the cafe wall and gave her a shaky smile.

"No harm done," he said, leaving out the 'except for the wall'. The way she called him "Mr. Alfred" gave him pause to think, though - should he be calling her Miss Natalia? It reminded him of old western movies and country music for some reason, so it couldn't hurt, right? "I hope you find Russia soon... Miss Natalia."

That sounded a bit weird. He'd never called anyone 'miss' except school teachers.

[Belle Rousseau]

Oh, oh she really hoped she wasn't blamed for that hole in the wall. The last thing she wanted was for money to be taken from her paycheck to fix that. But what worried her more was how threatening that word came out of her mouth. Never could she remember a time when the word 'Marriage' scared her more. Did she want them to get married? She sincerely hoped not. All she could really do was blink as she and America exchanged words.

"So do I," she chimed in after Alfred, offering a tired but friendly smile.

[Natalia Arlovskaya]

Belarus dropped the knife with a short gasp. Her face turned red and she averted her eyes. Never had she been called 'Miss Natalia' before. Most of the time, she was 'Belarus', 'Natalia', 'my crazy younger sister' and even 'that psycho bitch' at times. However this name was new and she didn't know how to react to it. "Thank you...Mr Alfred," she managed to stutter out. She had to find Russia now, for Mr. Alfred's sake and his polite American tendencies. Belarus wondered if all Americans were like that and figured that if she weren't so madly and deeply in love with Russia, she might consider pursuing an American instead. Or the American.

However, despite their earlier protests, Belarus knew that Belle and Mr. Alfred were dating and that there was no place for Belarus to interfere. Belle better treat him with the utter love and devotion that a future wife should treat her future husband.

Just to make sure of this, she raised her arms threatening and let out sort of a low growl and glared at Belle, not really sure of what to say. Then she turned to America and her glare and dark purple aura faded only to be replaced by sparkles and shoujo sound effects, "You deserve better, Mr. Alfred," she informed him.

[Alfred F. Jones]

America wasn't sure which disturbed him more, the lightning and dark auras or the shoujo sparkles. They both had different connotations, but both carried a sort of crazy insanity that intrigued him. The dark aura, because it reminded him of how he felt when he was testing his mettle against a horror movie, and the shoujo sparkles because they were shiny and he liked things that were shiny.

Basically, he was just as confused at her reaction as she was about his calling her "Miss". After exchanging a look with Belle that he hoped said "uh, sorry about her growling at you, and sorry about her insulting you - she's kind of SPECIAL", he said to Belarus out loud, "Riiight. But we're still not dating. But you're welcome anyway."

He wasn't about to go calling her Miss Natalia again, not yet anyway. The effect that had on her was really weird and he didn't want any innocent bystanders going blind from her sparkles or being killed by her glares.

[Belle Rousseau]

The sudden change in the mood could have given someone whiplash. Belle found a cold shiver go through her at the sudden dark aura, blinking in confusion at the growl and glare she had just received for hoping she found her Russia, only to have to shield her eyes from the the sudden, bright shoujo sparkles that lit up the room. At first she had thought this one to just be a confused and devoted girl just looking for her brother but now Belle wasn't so sure what to make of her.

Glancing over at America, she caught his apologetic look and could do nothing but shake her head slightly, fixing him with a helpless look of her own and just remaining silent.

[Natalia Arlovskaya]

Now that her work with these two was done and there was no Russia to be found, Belarus had no reason to remain amongst the two of them. Without so much as a farewell, she backed out the doorway and closed the door in front of them.

That Alfred reminded her of Russia. They had the same love handles.

[Alfred F. Jones]

"Bye!" America said somewhat belatedly.

He turned to Belle and said, "Yeah... sorry about that. We were penpals once."

As if that explained everything. And in a way, it did.

[Belle Rousseau]

Belle watched as Belarus took her leave without so much as a goodbye, blinking again because if anything, that entire meeting was just confusing and awkward.

After a moment of staring at the door she turned to look at Alfred and shook her head.

"It's alright," she said softly. "I figured you two knew each other from somewhere."

[Alfred F. Jones]

"Was it that obvious?" America didn't know how to feel about that. He didn't know how to feel about most of what just happened. He almost wanted to ask Belle her opinion on Belarus, since he was a girl too, albeit not an insane one, but heroes didn't discuss things like that except in internal monologues, so he kept his thoughts in his head for once in his life.

A few moments passed. "What were we even doing before she came in?" He didn't remember. Horrible short term memory.

[Belle Rousseau]

"Mr. Alfred," she repeated softly, giving her head a small amused shake as she shifting the things in her arms to slip on her jacket. "She also must have known you if she claimed that you deserved better."

She tried not to show how much that last bit had irked her, offering him a smile before nodding towards the door, a small paper bag and her purse set firmly in her hand. "We were about to walk back to campus."

[Alfred F. Jones]

"Hey, that was as much a surprise to me as it was for you! I didn't know she liked me at all!" he protested, then paused. "Does that mean she likes me?" asked America softly. For some reason the thought of it made him want to punch something... if only Cuba were around.

He shook his head, ridding himself of the urge for the moment, and forced a smile. "Right, right, I remember that!" he lied.