A/N:Hello there, thank you for coming. Here my lovelies, is where you will find the many odd pairings or as dubbed by thee the 'crack' pairings. They may be a bit strange but that my darling readers is half the fun. So sit back, get yourself comfortable and let the chaos begin.

Chapter One:

Promise?

~Belarus~

The G8 meeting was as chaotic as usual. The arguing and fights were all the same. It was like watching a bad rerun. I just wanted to get out of here and leave this place. I needed to talk to my Big Brother with out these infernal nuisances interupting every damn second.

"OKAY DUDES! The meeting is over for the day! Be back here tomorrow before 10!" America said in his obnoxiouse voice.

"I'm hosting so I have to say when we go. Meeting dissmissed!" England yelled.

Perfect.

I stood up and made my way to my brother. He seemed to be in a hurry. I tugged on his sleeve to get his attention. He jumped liked a frightened child.

"B-Belarus. What is it you want?" He asked nervously, trying to step away, but I pulled on his sleeve keeping him in place.

"Brother. Marry me." I said.

"NO!" He said pulling back and running like a pup with his tail between his legs.

I looked down. Another rejection. I sighed dissapointed in his answer. I just wanted to be happy with him. Was that too much to ask...

I sat here at the pub. I thought about Russia, I would never have him. I know that much...I swished my drink around a bit.

"Hey there lass! What's a gal like you doing here by yeself." A voice said behind me. I turned and saw the familiar flaming red hair of Scotland. I looked him up and down. He wore faded out black jeans and a button down black shirt. And of course a drink in hand. His smirk on his slightly freckled face.

"So lassie. Why so low?" He asked sitting on the stool next to mine.

"None of your business Scotland." I muttered.

"But Natalia, I just wanna help. Bartender two more." He said gulping down the rest of his beer.

"I don't need your help." I said.

"Another rejection." He stated like he knew the whole time, with this being the case he probably did.
"Just leave me alone." I muttered.

"No. Natalia, I know yer hurtin. Just let me help you." He said.

"And how would you do that?" I asked annoyed.

"Give me the chance to love you." He said.

"No. All I need is Russia." I stated looking him dead in his dark emerald eyes.

"But can't you see Natalia-" He started.

"Don't start. Don't even utter my name. Got it. All I need is Russia!" I said holding a knife to his neck. He didn't even flinch. Just kept starring into my eyes.

"Why?" He asked.

"Because I love him." I said taking my knife from his throat and making my way out the pub.

"Do you really?" He asked when I opened the door. I ran out slamming the door of the pub.

I sat here in the hotel in the dead of night starring out into the rain. Thinking of what Scotland said. Do I really love Russia? Of course I do...right?

Urgh! That damn Scotland! How dare he get such thoughts in my mind. I loved Russia! Not him...

I needed to think right...

Okay make a mental list of the reasons why I love Russia.

1. He cares about me

2. He will protect me

3. He is powerful

4. His freckles

Wait! Freckles? Russia did not have freckles. Scotland did though...

I stood there in front of Russia's home. I walked silently through the halls. I could hear the Baltics shivering in a corner hiding from me. I walked up to his room and tried opening the door only to find it would not open.

"Brother open the door!" I yelled.

"N-n-no!" He yelled stuttering as much as the Baltics.

"Brother I jsut want to marry you!" I yelled.

"B-but I don't want to marry y-you!" He yelled.

I tore down the door, getting several splinters but that did not matter. I wanted Russia.

"B-belarus! P-please I don't want to marry you." He trying to get away from me.

"But you love me!" I yelled throughing a knife at him pinning his coat to the wall. I threw another and he was stuck now.

"But I d-don't love you." He said shivering and looking at me with a pleading look.

I froze...he didn't love me...He didn't love me...

I ran out the house not looking where I was going. I just ran and ran until my feet could not take another step.

I layed down on the damp grass and cried my eyes out. Russia did not love me. Scotland was right...

"Natalia..." I heard a voice whisper and I felt arms carry me. I looked up and saw Scotland. His emerald green eyes held what seemed like worry. But why would he worry about me? I was the girl no one loved...

Before I knew it we were at my home and Scotland was laying me on my bed.

He sat down next to me and wiped the tears away.

"Shh...Natalia, please don't cry." He whispered putting stray strand of hair from my face.

"You were right...He doesn't love me..." I said.

"I never said that..." He started.

"But that's what you meant..." I whispered the tears starting up again.

"Natalia. I hate to see you so hurt." He said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Cuz I love you." He said as if it should be obvious.

"No you don't." I said.

"But I do..." He said.

"How could you love me? No one can love me." I said.

"I love you for so many reasons though. I am some one. Just give me a chance." He said.

"Why...why would you love me?" I asked.

"Because you are amazing. I love the passion you get in your eyes when you want to do something. The way you never gave up. Your loyalty. I love everything about you. To me you are the best thing in the world." He said holding me to his chest and staring into my stormy blue eyes.

"Okay..." I whispered.

"Hm?" He asked.

"You get your chance but mess it up and you're a dead man Scotland." I said.

"Call me Alistor." He said with his cocky smile.
"Alright. Mess this up and you are a dead man Alistor." I said.

"Don't worry. I won't ever let you go." He said laying me down and resting next to me.

"Promise?" I said snuggling into his chest.

"I promise." He said.

A/N:There my dear readers is the first installment in this lovely series. I do so hope you enjoyed this. No promises when the next one will be posted. Until then

Disclaimer: Sadly my darlings I don't own hetalia