A/N: Terms with [#] are defined at the bottom. The beginning of this fic is a bit fluffier than my other Hetalia fic. Read, Review and enjoy! ~BLB
Don't own Hetalia but I wish I did!
I'm Watching You
BlackLaceBeauty
Chapter 1
On Earth there are seven continents and countless countries. There are a select few who are chosen to represent their country and thus carry their country's name as a common moniker. These world powers gather occasionally to try to resolve tensions or to strengthen alliances. Now they are gathering once again but this time a new country had joined in.
This new country was not located on any surface of the planet. Rather, it was its own world away from Earth. The country was called Aldenmor and its leader, its king, would be representing. His youngest child would be in charge of his security. The seventeen year old was now en route to be briefed for her next mission.
In a secret chamber of an Aldenmorian military base the spy was given the details of her mission, which would be a very simple one.
The mission was straight forward. Don't be seen and don't be heard. The world powers are very strong. Never underestimate them. Only engage the enemy if her engages you first. Your job is to watch for any threat to security. If you do detect a security threat, learn as much as you can about it then report back. Learn the patterns of the people so that you will know if something is up.
"You are the best and brightest of the Aldenmorian Military, Allie. Keep the King safe. But I know that won't be a problem for you." The officer laughed.
"Of course not," Allie said. "I would never allow such a thing."
"I know. Get out there and do your best."
Hidden by the night she clung to the rafters. Clothed completely in black she hid; her mask concealing all facial expressions. Night after night as the conference went on she watched for a threat, observing the occasional passerby in the long hours of the night.
After a while she observed a conversation of one who suspected that there was another presence in the building.
Three males walked along a long hallway when one, a blonde with very green eyes, shuddered.
"I think that there is someone else here, chaps," Britain said.
"Well duh! Me and China are right here with you!" America smirked.
"I wasn't referring to you two!" Britain snapped before quietly adding. "I feel like there is a mysterious unknown force here."
"You freaking crazy!" China told him. "The only ones here are you, me, and America."
"I suppose you're right," Britain said before the three walked away.
The spy did not dwell much on Britain's accusations. She had observed him before and knew he was a bit loony. Once she had seen Britain speak to an invisible creature he had called "Flying Mint Bunny". No one believed the nut, or so the spy had thought. She figured that the occasional night patrol by the various nations were for Britain's peace of mind only. Then, one night, it happened.
Night immediately followed the conclusion of the meeting. Soon after, yet another nation took patrol. The meeting must have been important, because they all had been wearing their best uniforms. The one on patrol now was still in his uniform but his hat was keeping the spy from getting a good view of the man from above. From what the spy could tell, the uniform was a dark army green with the ropes of a high up. He also possible wore some sort of red sash but the spy could not be sure. From the bird's eye view that the spy saw, she could tell not the man's build or his nationality.
The spy knew that it would be best to observe this one. She had never seen him here before. Perhaps he was a newer power with the Allies. She just didn't know. Her years of stealth training helped the spy blend seamlessly into the shadows. But this one was more perceptive than the rest. Late in the night the spy heard the sound of a pistol being pointed in her direction.
"Come on out, little spy. Show yourself," He called at a whisper.
Like a flash of lightning she faced her opponent; her own gun facing him. They stood like that for several moments. Facing one another ready to shoot they tried to read the other's expression. Finally, after a long, silent standoff, the spy lowered her weapon.
"Do what you wish," she said. "I surrender."
"If you surrender then put down your weapon." He commanded. The spy complied by placing her gun on the hardwood floor.
"Well, go ahead then. Kill me!" The spy challenged to her captor who had not yet lowered his weapon.
"No, not yet," he said, taking a step closer. "You were very sneaky. I almost did not catch you."
"But you did so what do you want?"
"Hmm… What do I want from you?" he mused. "Ah, I know," he said while putting his gun in its holster. "You are very mysterious under your little mask. I want to see your face."
Slowly the spy pulled her mask off her face as her captor removed his scarf. Then she had a disturbing thought.
'His scarf is very long,' she thought. The spy stopped removing her mask as that train of thought continued. 'So that is how he plans to kill me. He is going to hang me with that dark beige scarf!
"Take off your mask," he commanded again. "Pokazhite mne vashe listo[1]"
So it was as the spy suspected. Her captor was Russian. Not wanting to provoke her captor further, she continued to remove her mask. When her mask was down it appeared like a cowl draped around her slender neck. Slowly, her captor approached closer.
"Ah, you have such a lovely face." He said as he trailed his gloved fingertips along her right cheek, letting his thumb brush across her right cheekbone. He then lifted her chin to meet his gaze. The tall Russian assessed the spy's oddly colored green eyes. The color was so unreal that he knew that wasn't her true eye color.
From his touch the spy could tell that this man, even though his touch was soft yet firm, was very strong and that he could do whatever he wished with her. He assessed every inch of the spy's face; she did the same to him. In his right hand he held his scarf in a firm grip. His left hand then came away from the spy's face at such a blinding speed. She thought that he was going to hit her. But instead he pulled the ribbon out of her hair, causing her hair, which had been in a well styled bun, to fall down to the middle of her back. The spy's bangs framed her face in choppy layers. The Russian toyed with the scarlet satin ribbon for a moment before letting it fall to the floor.
The, quickly, he clutched the scarf in each hand. At first he had the fabric stretched tautly. That sent a new wave of terror through the young spy which pleased her captor.
A slick smile hung on his lips as he loosened the slack in the scarf.
'So this is how it ends,' the spy thought. 'He will gag me then snap my neck or suffocate me to death or…'
Faster than she could react, the man flung his scarf behind the spy's head, catching it like a cradle. He then pulled the scarf, and the spy, to him. Stumbling from the sheer force, she was pulled up to him where to her surprise, he kissed her.
That one, passionate kiss only lasted a few seconds. Once the kiss was over, the two stared into each other's eyes. The spy looked into her captor's face, trying to make sense of what had just happened. She saw the moonlight reflect off of the visor on his hat. His violet eyes matched the confusion in her own. It was like he hadn't realized what he had just done.
The spy took this as her chance to flee. She ducked out from beneath the scarf and ran for the window. He followed after her, but her agility let her escape nimbly from the window. On the ledge above she hid, waiting for her captor to give up his pursuit. The spy figured that he had given up when she heard no sounds for several moments. The silence made the spy think that it was safe, though, unbeknownst to her, her captor was right below, waiting for her next move.
"You are on the ledge right above me, aren't you?" The Russian asked finally.
"What the…!" the spy gasped. How in the hell had he known that!
"Thought so," he said with a little laugh. The spy was about to make a panicked retreat when he spoke again. "Please don't go," he begged. "I'm sorry how I acted but please do not leave! I wish to get to know you."
"How do I know you won't turn me in or hurt me yourself?" The spy asked in a steely tone.
"I promise that will never happen! You have my word on that. If I were to hurt you somehow I would let you hurt me twice as much."
The spy was struck by the sincerity in his voice "Really?" she asked.
"Really. Will you come back inside now?"
"Not tonight; I'm supposed to report back soon."
"You will be here tomorrow night then?"
"Sure, why not."
"Wonderful!" he said. There was no denying the happiness in his tone. "Would you tell me your name so I do not have to call you 'spy' all the time?"
"I'm sorry. I can't tell you my name."
"A nickname then?" He pleaded.
"Alright, I'll tell you my nickname if you give me yours."
"Okay, I'm waiting~." He called.
"You… You can call me Alek." She said.
"Okay, Alek, then. You can call me Russia." Russia said, sounding pleased that he had coaxed her to reveal her name.
"Russia," Alek repeated to herself. "Well, see you tomorrow, Russia."
Alek flew off, thinking, 'Only in Soviet Russia… would I give my name to my enemy and promise to come back. [2]" She laughed to herself as she returned home. Alek was debriefed back at the base then she went home where her father was waiting.
"Hey Dad," Alek greeted her father with a hug.
"Hi honey, how was your patrol?"
"Good. Dad, why do the guys at the base call me Allie?"
"Come on and eat you supper. As you eat I'll tell you."
So Alek and her father went into the kitchen where he fed his youngest child her dinner. They were the royal family and they could have a whole staff to do their bidding. But, they chose not to because they wanted to stay close to their roots and it kept them together as a family. With a large plate of pork roast, mashed potatoes and gray, and all the rest, Alek started to eat as her father explained why some called her Allie.
"You've seen how at the conference the people go by their country's name, right?"
'Like Russia," Alek thought before saying, "Yeah."
"There, they refer to me as Aldenmor and you as Allie; Allie standing for the Aldenmorian Military."
"But why am I referred to as the military and treated as a separate entity from you? The military is under your control; I just help you out."
"They refer to you as the military because one of your many talents is that you have such a strategic mind. Honestly, your strategies are among the best I've ever seen. You are so talented when it comes to the military; they like to place you at the helm. The military is still under my control, though. However, I fear they want to use you to take control behind my back."
"I would never do that!" Alek exclaimed, appalled at the thought.
"I know that sweetie. I just don't want you to be pressured into using your powers to do something you don't want to do. I want you to follow your own path."
"Why do they crave such military power? There hasn't been a war here in eons!"
"I don't know, Alek. I have never understood that thirst for absolute power. If you sense that they are after something, please tell me at once."
"I will Dad. Don't worry."
Then Alek's mother walked in. "Are you two still up? It's late and both of you have to be up early tomorrow!"
"We were just about to come to bed, Arella, dear. I wanted to be sure Alek ate well."
"Sartorius, she's about to fall asleep where she stands! Just what have you been talking about?" Arella asked.
"'Bout stuff," Alek said sleepily. "Well, I'm gonna go to bed now. 'Night; love you."
"Good night, sweetheart. We love you too," he parents told her.
"Aleksandra," her mother called. "Where did your ribbon go? You did have your hair pulled up, didn't you?"
"Yeah, I dunno where it went." Alek said before going to bed. But she knew very well where it was. Still at the conference building.
That night Alek fell asleep with a number of things still on her mind. Was there a secret plot inside the military? Was she just a tool? And just what had she done by telling Russia her name plus promising to go back? That night Alek had the oddest dream: a dream where she fell in love. When she woke from her dream she laughed a sour laugh. Her, in love? Not likely. She believed that no one would want someone like her.
[1]: Pokazhite mne vashe listo: Show me your face. I'm sorry if my Russian is off; I used Bing Translate.
[2]: I couldn't help myself! I'm sorry! That is the results of looking at too many 'In Soviet Russia' strips on deviantArt.