1958

Russia sat upright in his seat, a serene smile frozen on his face, staring straight ahead while all the while keeping America in the corner of his eye.

Germany was droning on about something or other, but no one paid any attention to him. Poland glared daggers at Russia, his face still swollen and bruised from his protests in 1956. Hungary also turned reproachful eyes to Russia whenever he glanced at her, and from time to time she unconsciously touched her split lip, a legacy of her own ideas of Revolution a couple of years ago.

Vietnam sat uneasily between Russia and America, her shoulders hunched, worrying at a fingernail with her teeth. The tension between India and China was thick and choking; India wore a nasty look on her beautiful face as she kept trying to engage China in a staring contest, something he steadfastly refused to do.

Only America seemed at ease as he lounged in his chair, drumming his nails on his desk, making an annoying sound. His belly, which until a few weeks ago merely appeared overfed on his noxious hamburgers, was round and full with the promise of new life. He smiled to himself, lost in daydreams.

"-Indochina," Germany said, then cleared his throat. "America! Pay attention! I said, now it is time to explain your intervention in Indochina."

"Huh?" America sat up, blinked a couple of times, and then realizing it was his turn to speak, leaped up and bounded up to the podium, rudely pushing Germany aside. "Uh, yeah! Anyway, yeah, there's that stuff going on with North Vietnam and we're gonna kick their Commie asses all the way back to wherever they're from. But! The exciting news is that I'm gonna have a new state in a few months!"

Germany rubbed the bridge of his nose. "We have all noticed, America."

America continued on blithely. "So the Alaska Territory is gonna join his big brothers and sisters - I have a feeling its a 'he', heh - around Christmas sometime..."

The sound China's chair made as he pushed himself back from his desk made the hair on Russia's neck stand upright. China stood, gathered himself with great dignity, and walked from the room. As soon as the door shut behind him the Conference exploded into wild shouting. Even Russia was forgotten in the furor as he slipped from the room.

He had to walk quickly to catch up with China, but as soon as China heard his footsteps behind him he stopped in his tracks. "The Great Whore," China said. He did not turn around to face Russia.

"I-"

"The Great Whore," China repeated. "Bloated by his own filthy policies and delusions of grandeur. Or so you have told me so many times. Tell me now, Russia, who has bloated him this time?"

"Do not let him be coming between us," Russia urged, coming up behind him, reaching out to touch China's shoulders. "That is what he is wanting! To make us angry at each other, divided!"

"It is not he who divided us," China said stiffly, stepping out of Russia's reach. "You did that on your own."

1961

The door splintered and flew from its hinges as Russia crashed into America's hotel room, holding his pipe in one hand and a pistol in the other. Seconds later, he pressed the gun to America's forehead, even as the cold steel of America's own pistol touched the soft spot beneath Russia's right ear.

They stared each other down.

The world waited for their next move.

America's smile was wide and shining and his eyes were fever-bright. "Howzit going in Berlin, Ivan? You gonna wall off the entire world?"

Russia curled his finger around the trigger. "It is going better for me in Berlin than it is for you in Vietnam, Alfred."

If that hit a nerve, America did not show it. "Is China speaking to you again?" he asked, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Ya know, I was really tore up when I heard about what happened between the two of you. I mean, if you two crazy kids can't make it, what hope is there for the rest of us?" His voice dripped with condescension.

Russia saw red and for a moment he was unsure if it was his rage, or if he had pulled the trigger and splattered America's brains all across the hotel room wall. His vision cleared and he looked into America's blue, blue eyes once again. "America," he said, and his voice dropped lower, softer. "How is our son?"

"Alaska? He's getting so big. He's into everything and he's always talking and laughing. Alaska smiles all the time, he's the happiest little kid. When he runs up to you and raises his arms to be picked up, your heart melts." America rocked back on his heels, a sincere smile on his face as he thought about his son. As his attention returned to Russia, his smile turned into a sidways grin full of malice. "Is Alaska what China's pissed about? I can't really blame him I guess, it must hurt a little knowing-"

"Silence," Russia gritted out, pressing the gun more forcefully against America's forehead.

"-that he could never give you that Commie bundle of joy, especially when it's obviously not you who's shooting blanks. Heh. No wonder he felt so betrayed-"

"I said be silent!" Russia growled, pushing so hard that he backed America against the wall. His pistol left a white mark in America's forehead. America's own gun was still pressed to Russia's neck, and he felt more than heard America chamber a bullet.

"And if I don't shut up?" America asked him. "What're you gonna do? Blow my head off? Launch some warheads? And when you walk up to our son as he's dying of radiation poisoning, just what do you plan to say to him, Ivan?"

"You will not win," Russia said, fighting to control his raging emotions. He couldn't let America break him down. "I will not be allowing you to exploit my weakness!"

America gave him a look of pure disgust. "What you don't get, Commie, is that I've already won. Because you think loving our child is your weakness."

Russia squeezed the trigger. The gun clicked. America didn't even blink. For a few long seconds the only sound was their breathing. At last, Russia slowly lowered his pistol and stepped back from America.

"Your gun has no bullets." America loved pointing out the obvious.

It never does when I'm facing you. Russia couldn't bring himself to say the truth.