Early April, 1978, Madrid.

I flinched as the words left my mouth. Now, I've gone and done it. He towered over me. I tried to run but he punched me in the side. I went weak as he grabbed my hand and pulled me from the room. It was a struggle to stay on my feet as we walked to our destination, the only sensation I could feel was my hand in his. I was walked through a door and up several flights of stairs. Then a door opened and I must have passed out because I found myself on a bed with no idea how I got there. Hands were on my hips and lips were on mine. I wanted to protest but realized it was too late, he knew my secret. My body betrayed me. My hands were on his back, exploring every inch of that naked figure while his hands stroked my warm sides. That was how I fell, like Alice down the rabbit hole, into an adventure I never wanted to end: making love with my enemy, the Soviet Union.

I woke up some time later. I could hear his gentle breathing nearby and knew that he was asleep. I got out of the bed and put on my boxers. "I need a shower," I told myself quietly, so not to wake him up. "I'm cramping like mad from that activity. Damned communist, stealing my virginity." I looked around; there were my bandages, in one piece. I picked them up. "Okay, slightly bless him for leaving these unharmed." I slowly began to wrap myself back up. I choked as I tied them off. "So this is how my female states felt when they had to wear corsets." There was a groan and I turned to see him roll over, thankfully still sleeping.

I finished dressing and walked towards the door, my shoes in my hand. Then I stopped as he knew all my secrets. I backed up and sat down on the floor. "Why, damn it, why?" The bed creaked as he got up. I heard him walking around behind me, but I didn't turn to greet him. I buried my face in my hands as the bathroom door shut. A little later it opened. "America? Are you still here?"

I said nothing. I didn't have to say anything as he sat down beside me. "America?"

"Damn it. Iggy has pointed out to me so many times you're the only person in the world with the power to strike me down. So, I go and hand you your greatest weapon against me, my secrets. Somehow I feel like they're safe with you though and it scares me."

He was quiet. I stood up to leave but he pulled me back down. We sat in silence for a while before I tried to leave again, but as before I was stopped. The fourth time this happened, he pulled me into his lap. I was sideways and twisted my torso so that our chests were pressed together and buried my face in that soft scarf. "What is your name, America?"

I whispered it in his ear before putting my head back on his shoulder.

"I promise you, America. I would never betray you or tell your secrets unless you ask me to."

I lifted my head again, just for a moment, for my lips to connect with the first piece of flesh they found, his chin. I put my head down again and I swear it sounded like he was purring. I snuggled closer. Maybe he really is more like a cat then I first thought. You never know what a cat might do. One minute they're ignoring you, the next they're angry with you, then they love you. They know when to leave you alone and when to comfort you. I started crying. He pulled me away to look at my face, taking in the tears, and then held me closer. "What is wrong, America?"

"I think I love you."

He was silent. I kissed him. He kissed me back. I knew I was caught in a whirlwind of passion I didn't want to break free of. "Nice and easy, man." I said, getting up and grabbing my shoes.

"Stay."

"Would if I could."

I left. Nobody saw me on my way to my hotel room, for which I was grateful. I showered and just as I finished getting dressed, there was a knock on the door. I cursed. "America?"

"I'm not here, Iggy!"

"America…"

"Alright, I'm here but I can't come to the door."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No."

"The meeting starts again in two hours, you better be there and you better be okay, or I'll have to duel with him."

"Shit."

"America?"

"That's illegal."

"You never cared before. I thought you were over losing Alexander Hamilton."

"How?"

"With magic."

"I'll be there at the meeting."

Iggy left and I went to change clothes. I had hoped to use my free day to prepare for some much needed relaxation. The bandages were tied again and an undershirt was on when there was another knock at the door. I slipped a t-shirt on and opened it. "Hi, Ukraine!"

She came inside. "I have a warning for you."

"Okay, go."

"Belarus is out for your head."

"It's all better, we talked it out, I apologized and he accepted it."

"That's what Vanya told us. She is under the impression that he's lying and thinks that you two kissed. I asked why you would do such a thing but she didn't answer. She may try to hurt you at the meeting."

"Thanks for the warning, Ukraine."

"Why is there a skirt on the chair?"

"Oh, one of my states must have put that in my suitcase as a joke."

She laughed and left.

I finished getting ready and danced all the way to the meeting, not caring that people were staring. I entered the room and Iggy walked up to me. He started to look at my face. "No black eyes, no bruising. You're off the hook, Braginski, for now." He returned to his seat. I sat down as a wasp buzzed in the open window. I felt it on my face and sat completely still. It flew down to my shoulder, crawled down my arm and into the palm of my hand. I got up to take it back to the window.

"SHIT!"

It flew away as Iggy came running to me. North Italy made Germany try to kill it. He missed it as it flew and landed by the Soviet Union, who took a binder from Belarus and killed it. He handed back to Belarus who went to clean the wasp guts off her binder, muttering "Thanks, nii-san. A dead insect, just what I always wanted."

We all laughed as she left the room.

"Be still, America. That stinger is pretty embedded."

I stilled as he tried to remove it. "Bloody hell, I can't get it on my own."

Gloved hands took my small one from Iggy, fingers pushing the skin around the stinger back, allowing Iggy to get it. I had a feeling I would start to know whose hands those were anywhere.

"I knew it!"

"Belarus! He's just helping America get the wasp stinger out!"

I ducked. A knife barely missed my head and embedded itself in the floor beside me.

"It could have been swordfish." I joked. "Oh, God. She does have swordfish." I ran to the wall as fish fly towards me. I ducked, as one fish stuck into the wall where my nose had been. "Meep."

The fish stopped. "Belarus, I am the only one allowed to try to kill America right now."

"Nii-san?"

I ran out of the room and all the way to my hotel room. Several minutes later there was a knock on the door. I opened it and he was there, slipping inside before I could say a word. He took my face in his hands and kissed me softly. "I am sorry."

"It's my fault. I'm the one that started this by saying something I shouldn't have."

"I am the one that overreacted, da? I should have let it go. I wanted to make you pay for your words."

"You did." I wanted him at that moment but I knew I needed to resist. His hand stroked my face. We stood there in silence for a while until he sighed and left. I packed my things and went home.

May, 1978, Washington D.C.

None of my states were supposed to be visiting so I wandered around as I pleased. The phone kept ringing. Canada. England. My boss. Ukraine. I fed them all lies about why I left, said I was feeling sick. Truth was I left because I couldn't be around him; the longer I was, the more I wanted to be with him and the greater the chances became of the truth being discovered.

June, 1978, Washington D.C.

I actually fell sick. Tony discovered my secret and that led to the discovery of a new one. I called him, unhappily. Lithuania answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Toris."

"Hello, Alfred!"

"I need to speak to Ivan. Please."

"I'll go get him."

"Hello?"

"Ivan?"

"Alfred?"

I flinched at the sound of that name, but I told him. He questioned until he had no choice to see that was true. When I got off the phone, I turned to see Alaska in the room with me. She was looking up at me, in shock. I sat her down and told her everything. She promised not to tell anybody, and she stayed with me. Luckily she learned to cook in her days as a Russian colony.

Early July, 1978, Washington D.C.

There was a knock on the door, Alaska answered it. "Ivan!" I shouted. He pulled me into the hallway, out of sight of the living room, and kissed me.

"Quickly, get changed. Our bosses are visiting you."

I ran to change. Baggy sweatpants, the bandages and a loose t-shirt. Alaska came upstairs then and fussed over my outfit until I changed it to what she thought would work better. We went back downstairs; she was pretending to be my caretaker and had to listen to the conversation. I was told that I had to go back to nation duties. Ivan's boss was just there because his nation wanted to be.

Late July, 1978, Cairo.

Finally, a moment alone. Canada and England has been keeping an eye on me nonstop. There was a gentle knock on the door. I called out "Come in!"

He entered. "America, do you have some time?"

"I've shaken Iggy and Mattie off for the whole day."

"Good. Come with me. I think it is time I take responsibility for my actions in April."

So I married him, right there in the middle of Egypt. We went out to the Pyramids and there I asked him what my name would be if I took his last name. He told me what the custom would be if we were at his home. He knew what it would be at mine and so we comprised. It was hard for him, but we did it. We laughed all the way back to Cairo and there we found Ukraine waiting for us. She was shocked when we told her the truth, but she was so happy.

Iggy and Mattie wanted to know where I was so I told them that I went off in search for muffins.

"What kind?"

"Chocolate muffins. Banana Nut muffins. Strawberry muffins. Raspberry Muffins."

They freaked out. "Why was he with you?"

"He wanted muffins, too?"

I hung up on them. He laughed at my antics on the phone. Then he had to leave.

August 10th, 1978, Venice.

"America?"

"Huh?"

"Your turn."

Ivan watched his enemy get up and walk to the podium.

"From the diary of Native America,

I gave birth to triplets. Two girls and a boy. I sent the eldest, Matthew, to live with my sister in the North. I sent the youngest, Maria, to live with my sister in the South. The middle, Amelia, stayed with me. I taught her all of my ways. Then the Europeans started coming over. I knew it was a matter of time before my little girl was taken from me, so I disguised her as a boy, called her Alfred, and sent her to live on her own. I gave her instructions to never reveal herself in fear that she would be killed. Before I knew it, she had been taken in by England. I knew I was dying, but I still worried about her. A European woman told me not to worry; one of her children was going to be taking care of her."

"America?"

"Maple. You're a girl."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"I couldn't, because the same woman told me that I couldn't until her son found out. At first I wondered who she was. I thought she might be Iggy's mom, but as time went on, I realized she wasn't."

"Who was she?"

"I'll let her son tell you. Take over, darling."

"She was my mother, da?"

"Ai ya!"

"I found out in April. She never said a word in protest, only quietly told me she loved me. From that day on, she was my Amelia. We never gave thought to the fact that we were enemies, the good outweighed the bad."

"I'm four months pregnant with his child."

England recovered first. "America, you should have told us right away."

"I had no clue until July. I need to change. This is getting uncomfortable."

Ukraine went with her. When they returned, Mexico was at the podium. "I never knew I was the youngest of three. I guess I better prepare to be a sister and aunt."

"America, what is your real name?"

"Amelia Braginski. I married her last month, it was the only time I could." Ivan replied for her.

"Does your boss know?"

Neither had told. Amelia called hers first.

"Hey, boss! Guess what? I'm a girl! No, I'm not pranking you. Okay, don't believe me. Anyways, I'm also married and pregnant. Yes, of course, I'm married to the father. Who's that? Ivan Braginski."

She took the receiver away from her mouth. "I think he fainted."

"No, I'm going to ask Lithuania. Hey, Lithuania? Would you be the godfather?"

Lithuania nodded.

"You there? He hung up!"

She handed the phone to her husband, who had a similar conversation. Instead of fainting, his boss hung up before the conversation progressed any further.

"I think we better find a place to stay until our bosses man up about this." Amelia told him.

"Nee, you two can use my home here."

"Thanks, Feli!"

October, 1978, Venice.

Amelia put the phone down, and turned to kiss Ivan. He looked up at her, curious. "Our bosses are in town, they want to meet us for dinner somewhere. It's fancy dress."

She walked into the closet, looking through the dresses Italy had helped her pick out. "What to wear?"

Ivan left her to decide, going to get dressed himself. He went to wait for her by the door. He was facing the door when she walked up to him. "It's just going to be you, me, our bosses and their wives." He turned to her. "Italy and his boss will be there also, but at another table."

"I am sure everything will go well." They walked outside. He took a good look at her. "You look beautiful."

She skipped down the road. "Hey, la. Hey, la. Hey, la. Hey, la. My boyfriend's back."

"You better not have a boyfriend!"

She ran, her heels hitting the pavement until on one bridge, one got stuck and she tripped. She would have fallen into the canal but she was caught. "Thanks, darling."

Ivan set her on her feet. "Cannot have you ruining that dress, now can we?"

She looked down at the fine black material, running her hands over the blue wraparound that brought out the color of her eyes. Her golden earrings dangled as she turned to look at the water below them and into her husband's violet eyes. "No, we can't." She murmured, leaning forward to kiss him. They kissed for a while, until a clock struck eight.

"Shit," she said, turning to walk again, "we have 15 minutes to get there."

They made it in ten, as it started to rain and they ran the rest of the way there, hand in hand. Feliciano was waiting outside for them. He heard them first, she was laughing.

"Stop that."

"You're right," she said, as they entered, "I should stop since I'm married to the ultimate expression of all those things I live to make fun of, but it's just so much fun to see the look on your face when I do just that and then kiss it away." She said, kissing his cheek.

"Not of all us talk like that." He said, as she took his hand and led him to their table. Feliciano waved from his seat between Germany and his boss.

An awkward silence fell at their table until a waiter offered Amelia and Ivan a chance to dry off, which was gladly accepted. When they returned, Amelia sat down first, looking around her. Only once Ivan was seated, she spoke, "Right angle triangles."

"What about them?" Her first lady asked.

"We're seated in one. See, the Italians, Germans, and Spanish are seated over there at one point. Then we finish the 90 degree angle with the Brits and the French over there. There is a smaller triangle within ours of the Canadians and the Prussian at one table, the Mexicans at another and my sister-in-laws at a third, without their bosses."

The rest looked around, seeing that she was right. North Italy, South Italy, Germany and Spain were at one table. Another was occupied by an angry England and a happy France. Canada and Prussia were holding hands while Canada's boss ate their food. Mexico was at a fourth table and Ukraine and Belarus sat at a fifth.

Their orders were taken, Amelia only getting something light and a soda. Frustrated about the lack of vodka, Ivan ordered water. Amelia giggled. The men fell to discussing current events. Amelia half-listened and stared out the window until the two women started talking to her.

Ivan's boss just glanced at his wife as she asked "How far along are you?"

"Six months. I'm due in mid-January."

"Any ideas of what the baby might be?"

"No, and I don't want to know, until I hold my child in my arms."

"What about names?"

"I hope for a girl, I really want to name her Summer."

"Amelia, we have to agree on a name," Ivan told her.

"He's hoping for a boy, we're going to call him Junior."

"Junior?"

"Yeah, if it's a boy, we're naming him for his father."

Both women found this amusing. "Russia junior."

Amelia frowned. "Oh my, you're right, I never thought of that."

"Kol kol kol."

"Oh, relax, darling. I'm just teasing." She kissed him.

They ate, talked and laughed until the clock struck ten.

"Oh, darling."

"Da?"

"Look at your wrist, we've gotta go."

Ivan looked at his wrist in confusion.

"It's an expression, dear. Come on. The doctor says I shouldn't be on my feet this late."

So, holding hands, the two left. The American president turned to his counterpart. "Do we need to call them for a second meeting or have your questions been answered?"

Amelia smiled at the question her boss asked, as they exited. "I think I know why the whole family was there."

"Why?"

"Moral support."

They walked home, it was still raining. The people passing by wondered at the unusual couple walking around, the fair golden haired American woman and the pale Russian man. Still, they were happy and the Venetians were glad of that.

"I wonder if strange events ever happen here, like vampires living in the canals."

"Amelia, you read too much science fiction and fantasy."

"As if our lives aren't already strange and fantastic. I mean if I went back in time a year or two and told myself I would wind up married to you, I wouldn't believe me."

"Of course, you would not. We are still enemies."

"Don't remind me, unless you want to sleep on the couch tonight."

"I did not say a word."

"You're funny."

"Well, Mrs. Braginski, I am glad you think so." He kissed her forehead.

"Am I in trouble?"

"Nyet."

She kissed him instead of unlocking the door. "You never call me that, unless I did something wrong."

He took the key from her and opened the door. "You did not do anything wrong." He picked her up and carried her inside. She shut the door with her foot. "Ta da."

He laughed, singing as he carried her upstairs.

November, 1978, Venice.

Amelia opened the door. "We've got mail."

Ivan took it from her, handing her her letter. She started to open it but got a paper cut. "Crap."

He took the envelope from her, grabbing a tissue to stop the bleeding. Once he was satisfied that it had stopped, he kissed it. She blushed. "Stop it."

"Nyet," he said, kissing her hand again.

She pulled her hand away, and retrieving her letter, finished opening it. "My boss wants me to stay here until the baby is 4 months and then go back to D.C."

"My boss wants me back next week."

She kissed him. "If your leader commands, but you better be here in January."

December, 1978, Venice.

Amelia sat in front of the fireplace. North Italy and Lithuania were over to spend Christmas with her. There was a knock at the door.

"Amelia, stay where you are."

"Alright, Toris."

Lithuania got the door. "Oh, hello, Russia-san."

"Darling! Is that you?" Amelia called out.

"Da, Amelia, it is. I am here for the next two months."

"Get over here right now."

He went running to her. She kissed him passionately. "Oh, shoot."

"Amelia, are you okay?"

"Oh, it's trying to come early. Don't you dare!"

The three men glanced at each other, alarmed.

"False alarm."

January 1st, 1979, Venice

Ivan was upstairs, hanging up laundry.

"IVAN!"

He went running to the kitchen, to find Amelia sitting down, eating cake batter. She offered him a spoonful. "False alarm," she said cheerfully as he ate the offered batter.

January 6th, 1979, Venice

Amelia was lying down in the living room while Ivan talked to his sisters in the kitchen. "Oh, what the hell?" She wailed.

Natalya went to check on her. Reentering the kitchen, she picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Hello, Lovino. We need the number for the best midwife in Venice. It's coming. Thank you. Feliciano, I need that name and number now."

She lowered the phone. "Nii-san, your wife needs you. What are you doing?"

Ivan ran into the living room.

"Thank you, Feli. You better send her right along."

"America?"

"Hi, darling. I hear Belarus calling for a midwife. Does that mean it's time?"

"Da."

"Sweet."

The midwife arrived, a thin Italian woman. Amelia gave birth to a healthy boy. "Hey there, Junior," she said, holding him, as Katyusha cleaned the place up after the midwife left. "Ivan, come see him."

Ivan approached them, carefully. He peered down at his son. She handed him over.

February 14th, 1979, Venice.

Canada was over, holding his nephew. "Maple, Junior. Don't cry. You don't like your uncle Mattie, do you?"

"Aww, Mattie, I'm sure he'll get used to you eventually."

Belarus took him from the relieved Canadian. "He loves his aunt Natalya though."

Ivan released Amelia. "I better start packing."

"I wish you didn't have to go back just yet."

"Ah, but your people are being troublemakers, da?"

"I'll kick their asses into the next century for it."

"Not if I do that first."

Early April 1979, Venice

I can't believe it's been a year already. Here I am, stuck in Venice while the Soviet Union is running around in his country, with my ring on his finger. In a month, life will return to normal, or as normal as it can be for the United States of America. I'll have to go back to fighting my husband, who'll be fussing at me for putting my life at risk, not to mention a lecture on the dangers of orphaning our child, who's now three months old, and looks like his father. He has his face and my feet.

This must be one of those stories where the heroine goes to fight the villain, and they fall in love instead.

The last line of the story is where this plot came from. It was helped along by the Busby's Chair episode.

Genderbent America just worked better in this instead of mpreg.

Look for more in this universe. I do have to send them to South America and India.