The pseudo-grin vanished as Poland's eyes narrowed. 'Don't start with me, all right?' he said. 'It's not like I'm ungrateful or anything, but let's just say I'm not the only one who thinks it's a damn sight easier to get through the day to day when both of you just, y'know, ignore us.'

'Is that what you think I've been doing? Ignoring you?' It was Germany's turn to wave his hands in the air, a frustrated gesticulation that owed more to Italy's influence than he would have liked to admit. 'For God's sake, this is the first time in twenty years that I've been able to so much as look in your general direction without half the world breathing down my neck and the other half reaching for the nearest weapon! Do you honestly think I would come all this way just to make things more difficult for everyone involved?'

Poland couldn't seem to stop himself from darting a glance around the square. 'Could you maybe, like, say that a little louder? 'Cause I don't think the other half of Warsaw heard you just now.'

'They can hear me in Moscow for all I care!' And he meant it. Dealing with Russia had been a thousand times easier than this by far -- and that was a truly frightening thought. 'I say it again: you are not the only one under pressure here. You would not believe what my boss has gone through to even get us this far.'

'You seem to be pinning a lot of hopes on this boss of yours,' Poland sneered, with a flicker of emphasis on the most distasteful word. 'Huh. I thought you'd be so over that by now.'

'He has a lot less blood on his hands than either you or I do,' Germany muttered darkly.

Poland stiffened. '...you did not just say that.'

'And what if I did?' He was venturing onto dangerous ground, but for the first time in a long while Germany felt no shame in coming to his boss's defence. 'I accept that you have every reason to distrust me, even to despise me, but you have no right to make him the scapegoat.'

'Listen, you bastard,' Poland snapped, with a rising edge to his voice that had not been there before. 'Let's get one thing straight: You do not get to tell me what I have the right to do. You lost that privilege, like, a long fucking time ago. And right now I've got about as much reason to trust him as I do to trust you, which isn't saying a hell of a lot for either of you.'

'He will keep his word,' Germany snapped back. 'You will have your treaty. And then we can all continue to pretend that I have any control over that precious western border of yours, and you and your bosses will finally be free to follow the example of your comrades to the west and start selling my own people back to me.'

All the colour drained out of Poland's face. 'Shut your filthy mouth,' he hissed. 'Don't you even dare compare me to your -- '

'I sign the paperwork for it, damn you!'