Dmitri: I will forever love whoever gets the reference in the beginning section. BEWARE: Leery lies yonder down the page. So does sex. The song is I'm Ganna Be Warm this Winter by Coney Francis. JK (no pun there) there is no song this time.

"so, Jim, what's happenin?" Alfred asked as he dropped heavily onto the plush little couch in front of the President's desk. "what's the 411?"

The old looking man sighed at his nation. Jones was dressed in skin tight neon blue parachute pants and a black open chested vest that showed off his hairless torso. Then that hair that changed day to day. It had grown a little shaggy from the early 70's when he would wear it straight around the White House but now it was extreme. It was glitter gelled so that it looked like daggers growing out of his head towards the left. The human had no idea how he did it in the mornings. An industrial sized fan that blew it to whichever side he had picked for the day? Carter swore he was spending too much time with the youth these days. "lord, you look different every time you show up." Jimmy Carter offered amiably. Its not like he could tell the Nation what to do on unofficial visits. "I'm afraid I have some bad news…"

The big haired Nation smirked. "take a chill pill, dude. Just tell it straight." He said in an overly confident manner.

"the Soviet Union just invaded Afghanistan." The suit clad man quickly spat out.

The blonde hadn't been expecting that. "dang… for cear?" was all he could react with. Had he not just gotten through all those SALT I talks? And the SALT II ones that were in the works? Alfred had been sure he was not going to be bothered by that Ruski again for a long while. He had hoped he wouldn't have to even use that damn red phone to tell him anything. Now it seemed like he would have to call off the talks. Plus, he was down with the less talking bit. But he had wanted not to even bother with him after the meeting in Moscow… after Russia had attacked him… It was something he wanted nothing to do with. Ipso facto, it never happened, Al. nope.

"I'm afraid so… I cannot understand - it just baffles me - why the Soviets these last few years have behaved as they have. Maybe we have made some mistakes with them. Why did they have to build up all these arms? Why did they have to go into Afghanistan? Why can't they relax just a little bit about Eastern Europe? Why do they try every door to see if it is locked?" the old man asked in complete exhaustion.

Alfred merely shook his head. "I'm ganna give him a fuckin' facial. End the SALT II talks, we're booking this menace." He ordered sternly. It wasn't happening anymore.

Without thinking, he got up and left, his pants making a weird noise as he walked. He needed to go find some Betty to at least third base and go smoke a bean-no, a good ol' fatty. That's what he needed. This was totally bunk! Fuck it, he'd go to an acid party. He pulled out his mobile and dialed up Mathew. "hey, you in town? I wanna get freaked at the acid house, you down? Cuz I need a ride." He spoke the moment the call connected. A few passerbys looked at him strangely for having a techphone and looking cold at the same time. One thing government spending is good for.

"I don't like the feeling, man. Its not right-" suddenly Mathew got quiet and Alfred took the chance to interject.

"Mattie, youre a clydesdale! Stop being a couch potato and get foot loose with me!" he pleaded.

He must have changed his mind since he replied quickly this time. "dang, you're such a hoser… I'll be there in a minute." A sharp intake of breath interrupted him momentarily. "ah, you mind if I bring Elizaveta?"

A large grin slapped onto the American's face. "is that who I hear over there with you? Such a player!" he exclaimed loudly, to the annoyance of some passing old lady. "yeah, you can bring her. I cant believe she could even sneak away from Mr. Snow… yeah, let her join in." he wanted to give Russia a fresh one anyways, even if it was indirect. A proxy dis was enough for him at the moment. He knew he would get pissed off if he wasn't already high. It was a good move, catching himself in a good mood. Nothing could get him down.

"okay… be right there." The Canadian half of America informed before hanging up.

Then somehow the twin rolled up in his black new Chrysler Cordoba with a pleasantly smiling Hungary in the passenger seat. Mathew himself looked pretty nervous. Probably the fact he had a bodacious chick in his ride. Must be a first for his nerdy twin, he mused. With a huge smile, Alfred hopped through the open window into the leather back seat. Ah, what a great car! "like, this is an awesome-o-rama set of wheels, bro!" the American praised. His eyes then fell on the smiling Hungarian. "how'd ya escape the warden, Liz? Getting' all down and nasty with Matty" he winked provocatively and she giggled girlishly.

Her eyelashes fluttered flirtatiously towards him, her smile growing sly. "I have my ways, but it won't be long sadly." Elizaveta replied. Her eyes roamed over his ensemble in interest. She herself was wearing a simple pair of black rider pants and a baggy green shirt that slipped over her right shoulder, revealing a pale smooth expanse of skin. Weeeyew, if she wasn't Soviet territory… wait, even better.

"mm, and how was that?" he ventured to ask, forcing his voice to drop a few octaves.

His brother tossed his wild hair, frizzed out and filled with little clusters of thin beads, and looked at him in the rear view mirror. "not to delay this bulk story but where is the party at?" Mathew asked.

Right. "oh, forgot…" he quickly gave him an address of someone he knew would have no problem with surprise visits involving customers and looked back at Elizaveta who was busy fluffing her hair.

She again smiled at him so that he noticed her dark brown lip liner making her lips all the curvier looking. "and I can't answer your question… but I can show you in a little bit." She smiled lasciviously.

She was bad to the bone, man. Cold blooded and sexy as hell! Time to play it up more. "if you think you can take showing me, babe." Alfred challenged.

The conversation went on from there as they drove, eventually reaching the small house. "is this it?" Mathew asked when he saw the pink plastic flamingoes in the yard.

Alfred chuckled as he flung himself out the window, too hip to bother with the door. "yeah, this is the place. He's no Tim Leery but he's got the goods." He answered simply enough.

Elizaveta followed him up to the door before Matty did and they all three waited after the doorbell was rung. Finally a very fidgety man greeted them wearing sunglasses and a floral print shirt he kept unbuttoned to reveal his hairy stomach. He immediately recognized Alfred and ushered them into his living room where he had them sit down on various bean bags scattered around a short legged glass coffee table. Canada sat across from them on one side as Hungary sat extremely close to America in a completely welcome manner on the other side. Burn, stealing the girl from his dweeb brother. What an awesome guy he was, Alfred inwardly chuckled as the dealer brought back in a cute little array of things for them to use and set them on the table.

Canada knew what he was doing but Hungary watched them closely as the two brothers tore open little smiley face packets and popped the cat shaped tablets into their mouths. She must not have done it before. Alfred laughed and directed her how to do it. It was simple, just eat the tabs. Then he pointed to Mathew as the French twin picked up a cut short straw and snorted a thin line of white powder. Next the straw was handed off to the American who efficiently snorted and passed it to their gal pal.

The man had a laugh seeing Elizaveta let out her virgin swoon when things started getting slippery. The man in shades proceeded to ramp up the volume- an electronic beat that beeped way up in the high notes until it began slamming rhythmically into your ribcage. The lights were dimmed as he pulled blue plastic over a strobe light and set it flashing before padding over to take a hit himself.

It was funny watching the brunette woman rolling; she had such a confused face that made her really cute. He helped her up onto her feet and started moving to the beat. It didn't take long for her to get it and start grinding into him. Pretty soon the longer haired brother joined in and they were slamdancing into each other, getting really physical. Alfred had no idea how it happened but, one minute he was first basing Elizaveta, then the next, he was under his little brother. They were both panting loudly as their bodies amplified everything going on. Hungary was right above them, lust clouding her dilated green eyes. Apparently she was into fags.

Not wanting to disappoint since it wasn't his first time with men, he had done dirty with both England and France before, he conceded to give her a short show. He rubbed up his brother just enough to get him moaning and deepening the kiss. When Mathew surfaced for air it was only for a moment. But oh god, there were fireflies everywhere! America dodged the next embrace and broke off to try and reach one of the bright insects to no avail. Then the carpet started crawling up his pants like some creepy spider throng-thing… fuck! He jumped up to get away from them and smashed into something hard. He turned around to see Russia standing there with a smile across his dickweed face.

"what he fuck do you want?" Alfred yelled.

As the silver haired man continued to smile, the floor fell out from under his feet. The entire world just left, sending him plunging into utter darkness. No, not darkness. He was in a snow white expanse. His skin was cold as ice. But something warm was pressed up against him from behind. Though no matter how hard he tried to snuggle up into the source, it kept moving backwards.

Then a hand touched him, sending him flying into a multicoloured vortex. Ok, this was trippy. "Én Miss neki... éppen szeretné látni őt újra... miért tegyek a ahelyett, hogy szerelmem? Ó, Roderick!" he heard someone sob from somewhere near him. Suddenly the colours faded away to show a Hungarian woman crying on his brother in a heart breaking manner.

"whats wrong with her?" Alfred asked, falling over himself as he dragged himself to her.

Mathew looked up at him. "she isn't taking it well. We need to take off to your place and get her calmed down." The Canadian suggested. Alfred took one last look at her before making up his mind. He quickly paid the dealer and led them out to the sleek car. He took the keys from his brother and took up the front driver seat and pushed it into gear. They tore out of the neighborhood like lightening.

Elizaveta was crying still but that wasn't important. There were fucking BATS everywhere. Big black bats, swarming over their heads and swooping down to tear pieces off the car. What? There was a hot crying betty in the back seat and now bats were flying overhead. What if they fucking ate them up? How would he get them back? Woah! He could use the terminator he had rolled up in the trunk at home. Dang, how would he get to it?

The little apartment was fast approaching so Alfred made sure to reach over and grab a weapon without taking his eyes off the menacing bats. He didn't know if he could trust them not to pick up the car if he turned his head. His hand connected with a large bronze pan. Bulk awesome! That freakin woman saved them from their harrowing escape through bat country!

He pulled up into his reserved shaded spot and launched himself out the door, waving the pan at the bats desperately in an attempt to protect his brother and the Hungarian woman who was shaking in the former's arms. Mathew struggled to keep up with the American while he carried Elizaveta to the door. It was quickly shut and the bolt slid home with a loud thump signaling temporary safety from the menaces. Temporary being the keyword. Since the damn lamp was making faces at him….

The Canadian set the shaking woman down on the couch and Alfred went over to his boom box and clicked play on whatever tape was in at the moment. Glass Spider immediately sputtered to life in the room. He could hear Mathew whispering soft comforting things to Elizaveta. "it's okay… it only lasts a little while… yes, you took LSD with us… we're right here…" then his voice dropped inaudibly as a loud cackle filled the air. Flying crooked politicians, Batman! This is serious!

Once again Russia was standing in front of him. Why did his mind insist on doing this to him? Why couldn't it be David Bowie, here to sing to him in person? With those sexy eyes and gorgeous body... But no, Russia stood in-between him and the door wearing his black jacket and matching slacks that made his pink scarf pop out. That stupid smile was plastered over his round baby-face that began warping colours in a tie dye effect from the hippie era of yester decade. His childish voice rang out when he opened his great red maw. "Alfred, what happened in Moscow?" Ivan questioned simply in a sing song voice that vibrated his spine.

Tremors went through him as his memories of the night flashed quickly by. Getting wasted on vodka, smoking a bean in front of St. Basil's, something about a wall, getting kidnapped by a Fucking Ruski, and waking up bruised in the morning. The night had been a pretty big blur, but he remembered the hangover and extreme pain when he woke up. He had been sore all over and suffering from quite a few deep bite marks. "you beat the shit outta me, that's what." He spat venomously. The Blonde's fists began shaking slightly from the sudden swell of very real emotion. If it didn't stop soon he would be in a bad trip like Elizaveta and he knew it.

The smile on the silverette's face sharpened at the corners in a conniving fashion, making him look like a large, pale weasel. A weasel that seemed to know something you didn't. "Oh, Moi Lyubov, you know that isn't what happened." Ivan stepped forward, his heavy winter boots making a deafening thump against the carpet. A slow beat of war drums. He stopped only when he was mere inches in front of Alfred, who was shivering uncontrollably. The purple in those large eyes were reaching out to snatch him away forever. Trap him in a violent violet storm in which his carcass would freeze after he was sufficiently beaten against the tides.

He must have been standing there longer than it seemed because Bang Bang was starting up on the cassette. "no." he vainly denied, taking a step back. "No…"

Ivan compensated for the space by taking two full strides, bringing him to share the same breathing space from the American. His eyes were forming into serpentine slits in a whirl of rainbows. "you may not remember, but you know as well as I do." His forked tongue flicked across his lips as he grew taller. Suddenly he bent over to touch noses with the blonde. "so what happened?" Alfred was losing it. No way, no how was he getting through this. He couldn't take the overwhelming dread, fear, and complete disregard of his inner lies.

"just… shut up!" Alfred screamed with the last bit of control he had. All his energy had been used up and the world became completely dark. No snow this time. No, he had passed out on his living room floor.

The next morning he woke with a terrible drag in his step. Both guests were missing from the apartment, only a simple note in their absence that read: Alfie, Elizaveta needed to go home. Thanks for letting us crash. Mattie. Alfred crunched up to note and went to grab a Teddy from the icebox. He popped the top as he walked beside his room designated as the study- where his rather big PC sat on a sturdy desk, Pong sitting in the seat. The file stacks around it were curiously slim but the tired blonde shrugged it off.

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Alfred swallowed the lump in his throat nervously. He had a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a hand held up to knock on the in-patient room door. He hated hospitals with a passion, especially when it had to do with his Presidents. Kennedy had been the second and final straw that wiped away any sense of comfort a hospital could possibly hope to give off. Thank god Nations were nearly immortal, that way he had no reason to visit a hospital for himself. America's hand hit the door in three firm successive taps. When it opened, another agent poked his head out to receive clearance (just as the two outside the door did moments ago) and let him in with a carefully guarded expression. Fucking government, Alfred hissed in his head before remembering he was part of it. Or above it… or did he include the government? Dag, whatever.

He smiled widely at the man in the hospital bed wearing crisp white paper clothes. "What's the 411, Ronnie?" Alfred smiled. "Nancy." He greeted, giving a terse bow to the First Lady and handing her the bright flowers.

The blonde ex-actress smiled delightfully and accepted them easily. "why, thank you Jones, this will sufficiently light up this drab room. All the better for Ron's health." She thanked him candidly.

Ronald laughed at them good naturedly as he waved away the security to wait outside. "you look almost presentable today, Alfred." He teased in reference to Alfred's current appearance. He was wearing a simple pair of jeans, a thick leather jacket, and fingerless biker gloves. Of course, his hair was still mussed up, but not as much as he preferred it on a daily basis.

"I was afraid Nancy might replace me like she did the china, man." The Nation joked. He personally liked her, she reminded him of Jackie Kennedy. Well, except when she got onto him that first time for dressing like a hooligan…

Mrs. Reagan rolled her eyes playfully at the strange man her husband seemed to respect since the day of his inauguration. The strange teenager hadn't even given out a title or position of any sort, but he just seemed important all the same.

The President sobered up a little bit. "now, Alfred, I have something I need to tell you… Nancy, could you step out for a moment?" Ronald waited for her to close the door before he continued. "I'm mailing out a letter to the Premier of the Union tomorrow. I want to start a new series of talks between us." The bedridden man confessed.

Alfred was speechless. No way did he want to go there again. but how could he tell Reagan why? "no." he finally replied.

The actor sighed deeply. "Alfred I wasn't asking you. I was telling you." He held up a silencing hand before Alfred could refuse again. "look at yourself and the Soviets for a minute and tell me honest if you don't think we should." He requested.

The Blonde man had no real argument that would be credible. "I just don't wanna conversate with that commie." Was all he could come up with in his defense.

"soon we will be going on a trip to a few major cities in Europe to talk about our plans with their leaders. Be locatable so I can take you, please… Unless you want no say in absolutely everything." The President grinned at his little bit of humor at the end and Alfred had to chuckle a little.

The Nation agreed reluctantly and turned to leave when his boss spoke up again. "oh, and Alfred…" the man in question whipped around to see an honest look on the man's face. "don't bring any drugs with you. Nancy and the security will have a fit."

The blonde American threw his head back to let out a little laugh. "I brought grass to the SALT conference in Moscow and no one caught me… but it seems I am going to have to do something about the Presidential Diary. It ruins all my fun." Ronald opened his mouth to rebuke and tell him to seriously do as he was asked. "I know, Just Say No and all that. Bogus if you ask me." he grinned, finally making his exit and bidding Nancy Reagan a goodbye.

It seemed barely any time had passed before he was in England, sitting next to Arthur behind the curtain as Reagan spoke to Parliament. The Miller speech had already passed and the conference in Geneva was set, starting off their European tour. But those Fucking video cameras keeping them out of the actual room were getting him mad. "My Lord Chancellor, Mr. Speaker: The journey of which this visit forms a part is a long one. Already it has taken me to two great cities of the West, Rome and Paris, and to the economic summit at Versailles. And there, once again, our sister democracies have proved that even in a time of severe economic strain, free peoples can work together freely and voluntarily to address problems as serious as inflation, unemployment, trade, and economic development in a spirit of cooperation and solidarity." Reagan's amazing voice boomed from in front of them. Whoop, Democracy, Fuck yeah!

"hey, Iggy, wanna go smoke a bean after this?" Alfred leaned over to ask Arthur, who was sitting in a stuffy suit right next to him in a fold out. Alfred was glad he at least got to wear a looser suit and some bad shades.

The thick browed Briton looked at him skeptically. "I thought your First Lady was on an anti-drug binge?"

"This is my second visit to Great Britain as President of the United States. My first opportunity to stand on British soil occurred almost a year and a half ago when your Prime Minister graciously hosted a diplomatic dinner at the British Embassy in Washington. Mrs. Thatcher said then that she hoped I was not distressed to find staring down at me from the grand staircase a portrait of His Royal Majesty King George III. She suggested it was best to let bygones be bygones, and in view of our two countries' remarkable friendship in succeeding years, she added that most Englishmen today would agree with Thomas Jefferson that "a little rebellion now and then is a very good thing."" Laughter erupted from the members of Parliament at his humor. That guy sure could sweet talk a crowd.

Alfred grinned. "doesn't mean I stopped. I only brought soft stuff anyways." He explained like the deviant he was.

"… very well." Kirkland finally agreed.

Before long Reagan had reached the end of his speech, after reading his letters and talking about the Soviet Union at length and about all our missiles. "Well, the task I've set forth will long outlive our own generation. But together, we too have come through the worst. Let us now begin a major effort to secure the best—a crusade for freedom that will engage the faith and fortitude of the next generation. For the sake of peace and justice, let us move toward a world in which all people are at last free to determine their own destiny. Thank you." He finished.

Alfred snickered quietly as they snuck out stealthily for a quick smoke. "does it give you the heebie-jeebies when they say 'Crusade'?" the American asked as he pulled out his lighter and let Arthur nurse the Marijuana cigarette to a pleasant smolder before lighting up his own.

The green eyed man nodded slowly as he took a drag. "no, life has been full of crusades for me. hopefully we're done but no one can be sure… especially with you and Russia." He answered truthfully.

The American in shades chose to ignore the last part. "like, I guess I missed the whole bad crusade era you guys had. It just sounds so barbarous."

"you have been in crusades, Alfred." Arthur shook his shaggy head that was gelled back to look professional. "you just don't call it the same thing anymore."

They smoked in silence for the rest of the time until they could hear the voices of American and British agents around the corner in search of them. Arthur dropped his fag and crushed it under-toe with a decisive air. "would you like to crash at my place tonight? I've got some music to show you that I know you'll be down with." He smirked offering an arm.

The former colony linked arms with him. "I'm down. Just let me borrow your phone when we get there." He agreed with a chuckle. Arthur was totally a bulk bad ass.

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"please don't make me do this"

Ronald and Nancy eyed the blonde with extreme exasperation. His boss was getting tired of hearing him moan and groan throughout their drive from where they were staying to the Fluer D'Eau, where the summit was to be held. The Nation hadn't seemed to have a problem with it before now. Perhaps it was the sudden reminder what he was doing back in Geneva for the first time since '55. But it was really too late now. The nervous blonde was basically bouncing in his seat right now. "calm down, Alfred. It's too late now to turn around and we are not walking away from this chance at world peace." He tried to sound firm.

Alfred shot him a look before letting it half fall when he remembered their previous conversations. "I will not chill!... sorry, Ronnie, I just have some reservations with the personification of Russia. You know that." He apologized.

The older looking man nodded in understanding. "just try to put your personal matters aside, this could better the world for years to come. We're not here for you two." He established. Nancy was a badass actress; she was trying to decode their conversation and didn't even look like she cared! Alfred was impressed. She had veritable skill even off stage. The blonde Country nodded in defeat of the matter and Ronald smiled comfortingly at him. "when we get there, Nancy and I are going to take a stroll through the gardens. I want you to go ahead on in when we get out so you can scout the room and blend in. is that acceptable, Alfred?"

The Nation acquiesced silently. There were two days; he would get a chance to explore later, no doubt. He was hoping to get to ride in the Presidential Wheels for a little while longer when he saw two familiar faces standing just outside the gardens. He wearily called the car to halt. "this is my drop off, I guess. See you in the mansion." He bid adieu to the humans and got out of the car.

Switzerland was standing upright, his hair tucked neatly under his dark beret that matched his police special uniform and carrying a gun large enough to impress America. That would certainly be a few weeks in the hospital. Beside him stood the shorter unarmed stature of Liechtenstein in her matching uniform that seemed not to give her the same badass aura it gave her brother. Then again, Switzerland was scary outside of formal attire. Lily was just… a little harmless kitten. A warm blooded one, since she wasn't well endowed with anything but her brother. Poor thing. "what's happenin', Vash?" Alfred greeted, winking at Liechtenstein who immediately blushed a cherry red.

Vash glared at him for his gesture and put his rifle at rest against his shoulder. "the Media is everywhere so you and Russia are being taken in separate from your dignitaries." He reported quickly with a no-nonsense attitude, penalty of shooting for objections.

"does that mean..?" Alfred left off the end of the question, knowing the Swiss man would get the idea.

"oui, we are waiting for Russia here." He confirmed. The look in his eye was simply daring him to try and gripe about it.

Instead of becoming intimately acquainted with the man's firearm, Alfred decided to just stay quiet and shift uncomfortably in his suit. Dag, he hated wearing suits. They were so WWI! How had he ever been comfortable in those things? Another time, I guess. No shit, Sherlock. "fuck you, Watson." The American whispered to himself for his own amusement.

Vash eyed him reproachfully. "excuze moi?"

Alfred held up his hands in amiable innocence. "nothing." Luckily, he was saved from further paranoid questioning by a diplomatic looking car pulling up bearing the Soviet emblem.

The vehicle coasted to a stop next to them and the door opened to reveal Russia in a long black trench coat telling his boss off about something. This was starting to feel like a bunch of high schoolers getting dropped off at the arcade by their parents. America had the 'just get out of my car' type mother while Russia was cursed with the overprotective one that wouldn't let you go until she had reiterated common sense and kill-joy tactics.

Vash nodded towards the towering wintery Nation in greeting. "welcome, Russia."

The man in mention smiled sweetly at both him and his little sister before answering. "it is always wonderful to be back, Vash." Ivan commented warmly. Fucking commie! Being all nice to everyone like some chill dude.

"we're going now." Vash informed them as he spun on his heels to lead the way through the garden, Lily falling into formation half a step behind him.

That left the world's biggest rivals standing vis-a-vis each other in a rather pax romana type situation. They both smiled large false grins of camaraderie at the other before walking side by side- two metres between them at all times. They spoke not a word as the beautiful Royal gardens passed by. They stopped briefly at a fountain so that Lily could chirp about how pretty it was before they resumed their leisurely paced stroll to the Maison d'Aussure.

The door wasn't being watched by paparazzi and by the time they made it to the plush private room where the personal relation session would be held the reporters were already filing out. The two Swiss Nations assumed post at the door to let the guests join their Leaders alone. They were both greeted respectfully at assumed position on their designated sides of the couch behind their human representative.

Reagan, naturally, opened the dialogue between them. "we can really talk now." Ronald smiled at the funny looking Russian as he related how their beginnings were both so humble-something Alfred had always admired about his President- and how things had drastically changed. "The U.S. and the Soviet Union are the two greatest countries on Earth, the superpowers. They are the only ones who can start World War III, but also the only two countries that can bring peace to the world." America tune out after that. Dag, were they going to hold hands and sing kumbayah? Gorbachev, what is that thing on your head? He wanted to ask it with a severe need. Some of this stuff was making him laugh, the least political being when Ronnie mentioned the Ring of Fire. And it burns, burns, burns… the song got stuck in his head until they ended the first session in favour of moving to the larger room.

Before they entered, Reagan reminded Alfred to remain quiet and not show up on records. Alfred agreed and moved to stand directly behind his President, as Russia did with his General Secretary. It seemed like endless hours of torture in that room. nothing was decided on. Gorbachev responded to some stuff, Ron said some more American goodness, and the cycle repeated. What were they doing here?

The next thing after this was a tea party with the first Ladies and another meeting, which passed in insufferable silence for the two nations. Once more Vash escorted Alfred to the dinner at the Soviet's lair where they would have a relatively private dinner without the press, just interpreters. The older Zwingli eyed him warningly when Alfred locked gazes with the Russian waiting by the front door. He seemed to be waiting for him with that insufferably sweet smile that the American couldn't stand. It was way unsettling. Like, creep-o-rama creepy.

The silverette took a step forward to greet him hospitably and Alfred vaguely wished Reagan had been able to come early with him instead of helping Nancy with whatever girl thing she was doing. Maybe then he would be able to get through the next twenty minutes without fighting the Russian man. "welcome, Amerika. Is your boss coming soon?" Ivan queried.

"yeah, he wanted me to go on ahead, beat a path for him." America replied with a snarky tone. "see ya later, Switz!" he said dismissing the armed nation. If punches were thrown, he wanted time to run for his life.

Their eyes met for a moment in unreadable silence. The awkward tension on the patio was almost palpable and several attendants shifted their balance, alert for a fight between the two strange men. The Soviet Union towered over him like a giant Siberian bear with his creepy little smile plastered across his pale face. The unwanted flash of a goofy teenager smiling at him in London so long ago flitted across Alfred's vision, layering on top of the older version of the boy as if to remind him who he remembered so fondly really was. The American gritted his teeth. "well, are you going to let me in?" he asked, irritated with himself for not having a more disciplined mind for once in his life.

"I suppose." The silverette drawled smoothly with the twinge of a smirk on his lips. "Mikhail is waiting for you in the dining room." Ivan informed him as he raised an arm to usher him into the Soviet mansion.

Inside Mrs, Gorbachev curtly nodded at the blonde man Braginski had brought in and was not all that surprised when her husband rushed forward to offer a handshake, using Ivan to translate his greeting better. "it's good to finally talk face to face with you, Amerika."

"same to you, Mr. Gorbachev." Alfred smiled fakely as the party took seats, the two nations the American couple's seats as the woman left to make sure everything was in proper order. Once more an uncomfortable silence fell.

The birth marked Premier mumbled something incoherent to Ivan quickly and nervously. The old nation nodded. "Alfred, Mikhail wishes for us to talk to each other. He said to ask your least favourite battle." The violet eyed man sighed.

Not these questions again. They weren't girls at a sleepover! "uh, dang, I guess it's Okinawa… you?" he answered out of courtesy.

The wintery man translated to his boss quickly before replying in kind. "the Battle of Kursk was very painful." Alfred nodded his head remembering the reports he had seen about the legendary tank battle. It was certainly a huge spectacle. The Premier spoke softly to his nation again. Did he not know Alfred understood Russian? But he would never speak it! "what is your favourite joke?" Ivan finally asked.

A mischievous smile passed over America's features. "In America, there's plenty of light beer and you always find a party. In Russia, Party will always find you" Alfred said smugly. Go Smirnoff and Miller Light. he looked expectantly at Ivan as if to dare him to top it.

"This is Armenian Radio; our listeners asked us: "Why some people say that Hungarians love the Russians and hate the Americans?"" he chuckled, "We're answering: "Because Russians helped Hungarians to get rid of one totalitarian rule, but Americans don't help to get rid of the other."" He said quickly before changing the subject. "what are you expecting from these meetings?"

Alfred had to think it over as he watched the Russian human inquire as to what the jokes were about. Ivan merely lied and told him they were popular American puns that made no sense in Russian. What had his joke meant anyway? Oh well, to the question at hand. "you already know that." Alfred accused.

The Ruski raised a thick eyebrow in contradiction. "Do I?"

An eye twitched unperceptively as he put on a sweet smile. "My bad self is here to keep your commie ass from blowing this world up." The blonde replied as Russia's boss got up. Reagan must be here, he thought.

"as am i." Russia smiled sickly saccharine.

"oh, gag me with a spoon." America spat condescendingly.

A moment of silence passed by faster than light. "accepted."

That moment, the four Reagans and Gorbachevs walked into the room to see Ivan attempting to shove a spoon down the fork wielding American's throat. The First Ladies gasped as Ronald turned red with embarrassment and Mikhail gaped flabbergasted at the spectacle. Both nations flushed when they noticed their audience and dropped their makeshift weapons. Alfred was the first to speak. "hey, Ronnie, I can explain-" he was cut off by a silencing hand.

His usually twinkling eyes and diplomatic smile were MIA as he sternly issued an order. "Tomorrow we are working this out. Either you two will act civil or I will get involved." Reagan commanded with a note of finality. The two nations exchanged looks expressing their mutual dread.

_*_-*-*-*-.-*..*_-*-._(^.^)_.-*-_*-*-*-*-.-*_*_

Alfred tried the doorknob again in vain hope that it would magically be unlocked. Yeah, he could just break down the door but being shot by Zwingli for destroying a historical building would be a bitch to recover from. Ivan simply sat on the couch with a calm demeanor about him. the undercurrent feeling of tension was suffocating though. Damn Reagan for fucking locking them together here during the general sessions. The American turned around to face the Russian man behind him. Somehow the ugly curtains and overall tacky decorations about the room made his polite face look even weirder than normal. Like such a good little bitch. You don't have to pretend around me, ya dickweed.

His smile spread at the western nation's fiery look of despair. "the sooner we finish this the better, da?" Russia suggested. America vaguely thought that he wore his accent like a badge now, unlike when they had first met. It pissed him off.

"fuck you, comrade." Alfred spat in a terrible mock accent as he crashed on the opposite arm of the cream coloured couch.

A smirk crossed his lips briefly, catching one corner and hiking it up imperceptibly. "Mikhail and Mr. Reagan wanted us to get there, yes. But first we need to be able to sit in a room together without someone getting hurt." He giggled.

America snorted derisively. "fine." He conceded. "how do we go about this?" he eyed Russia harshly when the silverette simply shrugged. Lot of help he was. "whatever, let's get one thing straight- I'm doing this for the people, not you. I still hate you."

"I hate you as well, Amerika." Ivan agreed, throwing his arm over the back of the sofa. "are you proposing we pretend we worked everything out and like each other now?"

The dirty blonde shifted to lay his ankle across his knee comfortably. "yes."

Russia clicked his tongue in chastisement. "I should expect nothing more from an Americanski like you." He teased.

Alfred glared at him for the degrading jibe. "why should I try? I don't trust you."

"I never said you should. You would just blow everyone up anyways if we decided to leave each other alone."

"and you would do any different?" Alfred shot back.

Purple eyes gleamed. "I have no need; any other nation would see the benefits of becoming one. Only a block head like you would resist. My ICBMs are for you and Star Wars." He answered dreamily.

"you're such a fucking creeper." Alfred said scrunching up his nose in distaste.

"fucking, yes. Creeper? Maybe. I thought a whore like you would know." Russia grinned in amusement.

"only cuz you're a motherfucking rapist." Alfred shot back.

"I don't have sexual relations with my former guardians, unlike some capitalist pig I know." He countered.

The American smirked, thinking he had the other. "So you don't deny you raped everyone behind the Iron Curtain?" he pointed out confidently.

"So you don't deny you are an incestuous bitch?" Braginski matched his smirk.

Growling at the impasse they had reached in this banal argument they had launched into, Alfred sat back to fold his arms over his chest. "I see why this bothers the Bosses but we both don't trust the other; that isn't going to change." He fumed angrily.

"Well, why do you argue with me so much?" Russia prodded with his sagacious I'm-the-all-fucking-knowing-mother soft grin on.

His response was immediate. "It's either this or blowing you the fuck up with everything I have. I hate you that much."

Russia nodded his head. "and why is that? My matters concern Europe, not you." This time America didn't respond. After several minutes of awkward silence when it was clear there was no intent to answer the question, Russia grinned toothily like a predator who had snared his meal. "You're just jealous that I'm so successful and mad that I won't take your boons like all the other countries do." He announced.

"that is not why I hate you! I don't even care about that!" Alfred finally shouted with his face flushed red with anger and indignation. His problem wasn't that recent or political really.

"then why do you hate me, kapitalischi?" Ivan queried in genuine cruel curiosity. He leaned in as if to draw it out of him with his eye-catching violet pools.

The younger shook his head in refusal. "look, let's agree to step aside and just be Nations, not people, during the next three meetings. Okay?" Alfred offered.

Ivan looked almost disappointed that they had reached an agreement, from the American no less. "very well." He agreed to the solution that really didn't fix anything. Well, its not like Reagan said it had to be effective. He just specified that it should be quid pro.

Getting up to the door after checking his watch for the time, Alfred turned his body sideways a little like the Samurai in Japan's anime in a fighting pose. Russia was about to ask why he was threatening the door when Alfred beat him to it. "I'm ganna break down this door and tell Vash you did it." He informed Russia.

The pale man got up to stop him from committing property destruction in his name as Alfred shifted weighted to his front leg and swung the back foot forward. "K Chortoo, Khuyesos!" he roared knowing it was too late.

The door opened and a firm hand caught America's shoe as a gun was aimed at his forehead. Switzerland looked entirely unamused at what he almost failed to prevent while Liechtenstein peeked out from behind him. He quickly surveyed Russia's attacking position and America's apparent escape attempt. "Russia, please refrain from threatening America." Vash reprimanded the surprised Russian. Alfred's own startled face warped into a haughty one as he snickered at Russia in trouble even without the broken door. The Swiss man looked at him sharply as he released his limb. "don't forget you are still the one at gunpoint, America. I know you provoked him."

Alfred nodded submissively and allowed them to be led out of the room with a gesture of Vash's rifle. "your bosses went on to the Mansion to start the press portion of dinner without you two and requested I escort you." And for good reason, he implied with a glare.

"brother, don't be so mean. They were being good today." The little Zwingli cut in with big puppy dog eyes.

Vash glanced at her and quickly looked away with a visible blush. "i-I have to be stern, Lily. You understand." He stammered. Point one for underdeveloped little girl! Vash put his weapon at ease for the rest of their trip to the Soviet Mansion and dropped them off with barely an ultimatum muttered to act civil.

They had arrived just a little early, they could see. The reporters of varied nationality were still crammed into the tight space of the cozy dining room to bother answers out of their bosses. They couldn't very well just stand around waiting for them to finish so Ivan suggested they go wait it out somewhere they wouldn't be seen. When Alfred asked where that might be he simply shrugged and said the back hallways or his room- since he had a small stereo and a few cassettes he had brought along. So, despite reservations about commie music and commie bedrooms, Alfred agreed.

He was led through a labyrinth of hallways until they reached the Russian's room. Alfred looked around as the other man went to set up the music. For some reason he was disappointed that Russia hadn't personalized the threadbare room, though it was only a two day residence… Though he hadn't really been expecting anything else from the Soviet anyways. Suddenly Alfred spun around as a familiar British voice erupted from the boombox Ivan was fiddling with. "what the hell do you have John Lennon for?" then it hit him. The backup was in Russian.

Ivan looked at him quizzically. "it's fairly new but how did you not know he was in the CCCP lately?"

Back in the USSR in Russian? Why would Lennon do this blasphemy? "I trusted him to be a hardworking man…" he mumbled.

"since when were any of The Beatles hardworking men? And how does moving to my country alter that?" Russia asked in disbelief.

"no fucking clue, man. No fucking clue." Alfred admitted falling onto the bed cockily.

Russia shook his head in exasperation with the American and threw himself on the bed, right on top of the annoyance. "The Union is rather nice, Alfred. You should come see sometime." He giggled.

Alfred squeaked in a very manly way as a ton of Russian crashed into him and bounced the bed a little. "like hell I will! Now get the fuck off me!" he ordered as he gritted his teeth. This feeling of Ivan up against him didn't arouse anything in him, he tried to tell himself. Why was his body reacting so comfortably? He didn't like Russia!

The song changed to some new guy singing languidly about something as a steady rhythm pounded under him. "oh Viktor… I wish I could listen to him more. Kino's new album will be great." Ivan smiled and nuzzled his face into America's chest, choosing to ignore the command.

"he sounds like Barish Mancho." Alfred said as he struggled to extricate himself from Ivan's grip.

Suddenly strong hands gripped his throat tightly. "they are way better than that Turk, bliad." Russia hissed acerbically. "admit it."

His breath was snatched away. Ivan's voice was akin to a guttural growl and his eyes were on fire with violence. Sweet intoxicating violence. A knot tightened inside his chest as the hands constricted around his neck. All he could see was an abyss of violet swallowing him up and a pale set of lips curled into a cruel smirk. He couldn't look away. That mouth had claimed his failing gaze. It watched him intently with pleasure that probably matched his own. But Alfred couldn't hold out any longer, he had to say something appeasing before the black spots stole away his consciousness. "okay." He managed to rasp out somehow.

The grip around his wind pipe was gone and Russia made to sit up only to be pulled back down into a crushing kiss by a hand tangled his short hair. Their teeth clacked together almost painfully but America was focused on not thinking about what he was doing. He definitely knew this mouth. He knew the large cold hand sliding up his shirt to rake it's stubbly nail down his torso across his Civil War divide. But just how familiar was the erection he was arching up into?

Alfred found himself sliding Russia's coat off those broad shoulders and throwing it somewhere out of sight. His own jacket was pinned beneath him as pale fingers deftly unbuttoned his shirt to lay hot open mouthed kisses across the exposed flesh that made the American moan wantonly. Alfred tugged impatiently on the Russian's collar to tell him to hurry up and take it off. The larger man didn't miss a beat as he quickly pulled his top over his head and went back to scattering angry red marks across the blonde's collarbone. The American had taken the chance to undo the Russian's belt while he undressed and now held Primorsky in his hand, administering disjointed tugs to hurry up the man straddling him.

"Ax, столь хороший" Ivan growled biting his neck perfunctorily, reveling in the little groan from the American. "Я хочу трахнуть Вас в матрац"

Alfred's face got impossibly redder at the dirty words caressing his ear. "о бог, пожалуйста!" he begged, breaking his unspoken policy of ignorance in the Russian language.

The Russian smirked in a very pleased manner as he thrust into the hand stroking him, trailing his upper teeth down Alfred's chest. "Просите меня" he whispered huskily as he moved back up to bite the blonde's ear.

"Пожалуйста! я хочу Вас!" Alfred complied in a desperate whine, smearing Ivan's precum around the crown of his penis as lube.

With a satisfied ego, Ivan near ripped off the American's trousers and wiggled the rest of the way out of his own, leaving him clad in only his omnipresent pink scarf that America utilized to pull him back down into another tango of tongues. Surprisingly, Russia took his time filling up the hungry nation with his wide tract of land. It way larger than Britain and France's in both length and girth, stretching his insides pleasantly. He briefly wondered why it didn't hurt as much as it should have but Russia began thrusting into him. His thickness made it easy to reach his prostate immediately, effectively ceasing all modes of coherent thought for the duration of their activities.

They moved together at a swift pace quickly became erratic. Their lips remained only a hair apart to let their hot breath mingle as they moaned quietly. It was something almost surreal, a tropical paradise hidden in the Swiss mountains that they had found if only for a moment. "Ivannn" Alfred cried out softly, wrapping his arms tightly around the other's thick neck in a sweaty embrace as he reached climax between them.

It was not much longer before Ivan too released after pulling spill over the American's shuddering body. He calmly bent down to lap at their salty mixed seed before crawling back up into a relaxed kiss dominated by the restless blonde. Alfred slipped out from beneath Ivan to push him back and lay kisses under his scarf that gradually trailed down his pale torso to his hips where he nuzzled the coarse dark hair around Primorsky. Rough hands threaded through his dark blonde locks as he gradually took the length into his warm and eager mouth. The hands then slid down to his shoulders to trace the Liberty Bell crack and Native American eagle tattoo on his left and right, then lower to map out 1812 and the long jagged Mason-Dixon Line encircling his waist. The pleasant feeling caused him to hum contently around the cock in his mouth, hastening Russia's second orgasm to within a few minutes after America began bobbing his head, making use of that skilled lawyer's tongue of his.

Alfred magnanimously swallowed what was shot in his mouth and leaned back to observe Russia's idyllic expression that looked more human than any countenance he had seen on that face in a long while. It was amazing. There was a tranquil silence enveloping them that seemed almost civil. But when Russia opened his mouth unthinkingly, it all crashed down around them. Shattered into glass shards of a long forgotten bottle of vodka. "mm, that was better than last time. I don't have to carry your fat ass back to your room." he commented tactlessly.

Ivan's eyes instantly turned cold the minute America blew up on him. "you WHAT?" Alfred screamed, jumping off the bed to rush into his clothes.

"when you broke into the Kremlin while you were drunk last summit in Moskva." He replied callously.

Alfred paused for a moment to stare at him in disbelief before redoubling his speed dressing. "you raped me while I was wasted? What the fuck, Braginski?"

His purple eyes narrowed dangerously. "get out. I will not have a американская неряха -who begged me both times to take him- call me a rapist under my roof. Get Out" Ivan growled aggressively.

Alfred scoffed. "You're fuckin' lucky this was the last day or I would be all over your faggot ass in the next meeting." He shot back as he pulled on his coat and sprang for the door with an angry sneer. "just stay the fuck away from me, ya fuckass."

Alfred launched out of the room as Russia hurled forward to slam the door in his face. He marched straight past the two dining presidential couples and made straight for the front door. The tongue lashing he would get from Ron was already playing out in his head but he sincerely hoped the man wouldn't bother him about it.

Because right now all he could do was crash into his assigned room, lock the door, and let the silent sobs rack his body. Each one demanding why. Why, why, why?

Dmitri: 9124 words this time. Pretty short, eh? Stuff to outsource (no pun intended):

**** the 80's had the first chunky brick cellphones, hair going all which way were great, fucked up clothes, saying 'fuck' and 'fag' way too much, and other such wonderful things.

*** They're on Ecstasy and Crack, if you didn't get it. Plus Alfie smokes a lot of pot.

** the jokes were popular back then. Kristof's Soviet Russia jokes for the Miller Light beer and a beautiful Russian Anecdote about how miserable they were. all real. Then Kino(kинo) is an amazing punk band from the 80's featuring Viktor, a man any Soviet mourned on his death one year before the fall. Yes, John Lennon released a cover album in Russia, look the ninja up.

# bean/doobie/fatties means a pot joint

# cold\bad is sexy

#bulk is totally

# dickweed/fuck face/dweeb are insults, duh

# Én Miss neki... éppen szeretné látni őt újra... miért tegyek a ahelyett, hogy szerelmem? Ó, Roderick!" is Hungarian for I miss you, why do I have to be here, Why cant I be with you? Oh Roderick.

# K Chortoo, Khuyesos! is go to hell, cocksucker

# "Ax, столь хороший ah so good Я хочу трахнуть Вас в матрац I want to fuck you into the mattress о бог, пожалуйста! Oh god please Просите меня beg me Пожалуйста! я хочу Вас! Please I want you

If I missed anything else, just ask!