Heyo~!

LadyLiberty here. Sorry for the late update! I meant to get this up on Friday, but after a rough night with no sleep on Thursday, I could not function or think. I feel as though this chapter may be a bit rushed, and it didn't come out quite like I wanted or planned it to, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Next chapter should be up by next weekend.

Oh, and just a minor sidenote… in this chappy, Alfred is stationed at the closest U.S. military base to Cuba in Florida. This whole chapter takes place during the Cuban Missile Crisis, and in case you don't know what that is, please go look it up. ^^

FIRE: A FATAL ATTRACTION.

The smoke nearly looked like storm clouds.

This is what Alfred thought as he puffed on a cigarette that was propped on his lower lip. Smoke billowed from the cancer stick as he released the pent up smoke that had collected in his lungs. The menthol seemed to flow through his system, relaxing his frayed nerves and strained body. As he gazed up at the cloudless, sunny skies of southern Florida, he could almost believe that everything in the world was as it should be, even though he knew very well that it wasn't.

Throwing the cigarette to the concrete below him, he put the last of the embers out with his foot. Alfred leaned back against the wall of the military base he was stationed at. The beautiful beaches and the sparkling ocean was in sight from where he stood, making a slight smile come to his face. He had such a beautiful country with such beautiful people living in it; two things he would sacrifice life as he knew it for. This land was filled with his children, his very life force….

…And that commie was threatening it all.

His brow furrowed at this thought, anger bubbling up in his system. The American allowed himself to focus on the hot emotion. It had been a few years after this whole mess had started, all this Cold War business. That Russian had been interested in the new weapon that had increased Alfred's power in the world tenfold; the power that had decimated Japan. The two powers (Russia and America) had been competing for power long before their current struggle, though.

To say that the two did not like one another was a bit of an understatement. They disagreed upon everything from economics to the best tactics to be used at war. Russia and America were like oil and water, or fire and ice. It did not matter what comparison was used, what mattered was that the two were complete and total opposites.

Opposites do attract, though, as they say.

Alfred snorted softly in amusement as this thought surface in his mind among all the others. The statement was true despite how much his mind denied it (which was quite a lot, mind you). He knew that it didn't take a rocket scientist to see the relationship that he and Russia had. Every country from the North to the South Pole knew what went on between the two Super Powers.

The country's mind instantly drifted to the events that had conspired nearly six weeks ago… when he had last seen him.

Their meeting had been brief and fleeting, but it had been both pleasured and painful at the same time. In these few hours, the nation had met the complement to his personality and the match to his bruising strength. Russia (or Ivan as he had come to be known in their more intimate moments together), could walk the walk as well as talk the talk. The icy nation followed through on his promises, no matter how violent or seductive they were.

They'd laid with each other many a time now. Each time was more fevered and brutal than the last. As tensions rose between their respective countries, so did their respective drives to dominate and be with each other. Alfred could not count the amount of times he'd seen blood stain the sheets in which they would lie. The ridiculous amounts of torture that Alfred had inflicted on his secret lover, as well as vice-versa with Ivan, was near incomprehensible.

He lightly brushed his fingers over his right shoulder where the latest evidence of their times together lie. Ivan had been particularly vicious that last time, shredding his shoulder to pieces as they became one. In turn, Alfred had left his own marks upon the Russian's sides. Alfred's cheeks reddened as he recalled that night. He hadn't been able to walk for two days…

Quickly shaking the memories away, he cursed himself for thinking such thoughts at his enemy. Alfred was supposed to hate him, not act like he had a crush on the guy!

It was hard to resist the temptation, though, when the attraction to him was so… magnetic. The feelings were nearly physically tangible in the air to Alfred, and it made him both happy and sick to his stomach at the same time. He had to satisfy the craving that only Ivan could give him the cure for, an addiction that could only be satisfied by the most horrible of drugs.

So, he would continue to delve into these forbidden acts with his enemy in which he would truly test the limits of his physical as well as mental health. The music had already begun to play, and now was the time to finish this deadly dance.

They would both sway and twist to the beat of the music…

…. But only one would make it out alive.