Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia obviously; all these characters were created by the magical, marvellous Hidekaz Himaruya.
Acknowledgements: Many thanks to the following who reviewed/alerted/favourite/PMd: LeonRaichu, chickenkitty, SchrapnelGirl, QueenOfThePolarBears, rubyredroses1, Tamarutaca, Alice Stein, chattie98, Ankhasia Riddle, xXTomatoBoxFairyXx, Oxenstierna D. Yuki-Rin, ZeroLuver567, YellowXelia, citrine sunflower, DefinitionOfMyself, 101Icestormxx.
This is loosely based on Hetalia Episode 42 – a kind of 'behind the scenes' and 'what happened next' scenario
Warnings: Belarus (briefly), mentions of bodily functions
Chapter 4 – Gas
Sometime in the late 1970s
Russia poked Latvia in the cheek, "I know your little secret, Latvia," he told her, "You Baltics all think you have been very clever..."
"S...S...Sir? I don't know what you mean?" Latvia trembled.
Russia giggled creepily, "You thought I wouldn't notice, didn't you, Latvia? My little Baltics think I am stupid and I don't notice... but I notice lots of things."
Latvia started to panic, "S...S... Sir?" she squeaked and then 'squeaked' in a lower octave, "Sir?"
"You can't fool me, Latvia. I know all about it... I'm not angry, but I have to make some demands of you..."
Latvia almost fainted.
Earlier that day
"But why do I have to go?" Latvia wailed.
"Oh Raivis, it's time you got out of this house, I'm busy and Estonia has business to attend to."
It was true, the 'slippery' Estonian had a business deal to 'close' with 'clients' in Helsinki – he'd told Russia it was a boring meeting that he didn't need to attend – Russia, grateful for his subordinate's efficiency hadn't bothered to enquire further.
"I don't want to go," Latvia continued.
"Well, you're going. The boss asked you to go with him. It's only for one day, you'll be back this evening and it will be nice for you to see Miss Ukraine."
"Why can't he go on his own?"
"Because he'll forget where he's going or he'll get on the wrong plane and end up in Berlin which could end very badly, or he'll get drunk and pass out in a dumpster somewhere like last time and end up on a garbage boat in the middle of the Mariinsk Canal."
"I still don't see why..."
"Latviaaaa!" came a booming voice from the hallway, "We're leaving..."
She looked up, and then, dragging her feet, left the kitchen, looking back at Lithuania with the most hang-dog expression she could muster.
Lithuania shook his head, wiped his hands, prepared the finishing touches on the cake he'd made and then went to the front door to watch as Russia threw his briefcase into the back seat of the car and jumped into the driver's seat. Latvia was sat in the passenger seat with a look on her face as if she was on her way to visit the dentist.
"Bye Toris. Be good, we'll be back soon!" Russia called.
Toris waved at them, slammed the door shut and danced around the hallway. He had the whole house to himself for a whole day! Pol will be here any minute and he could spend some quality time relaxing without Russia calling them a pair of 'gay weirdos', Latvia worrying that Pol will find out she was a girl (they didn't quite trust Pol and his huge mouth with the truth) or Estonia trying to extract money from his best friend.
In the car, it had started...
"Where are we going, Raivis?"
"Kiev, Sir." 'Honestly,' she thought, 'he has the memory of a goldfish'.
"Oooh, Katya! I hope Bela isn't there..."
"So do I, Sir." Latvia said, before clamping a hand over her mouth.
Russia laughed, "My little sister frightens you, Mr Latvia?"
She nodded, Russia's little sister scared everyone. However, Belarus in the frightening stakes was only second behind Russia's driving.
Latvia screamed, very girlishly, as Russia flung the car around a corner, and then slammed the brakes on at a pedestrian crossing. He stopped the car within a hair's breadth of a woman and a pram crossing the road.
He patted her knee affectionately, "You should calm down, Raivis. Estonia is a very bad passenger as well. I do not know why. Sometimes he says he feels sick if he does not drive." Russia slammed the car into gear as the lights turned to green and they skidded off, wheels spinning, "But I like to drive, it is fun, nyet?"
Latvia shook her head, she didn't think it was 'fun' at all.
The most frightening non-fun aspect was the fact that he was now steering with his knees whilst lighting a cigarette, his blond head dipping below the dashboard to find the cigarette lighter, so he wasn't even looking at the other cars – who were all flashing their lights and honking their horns at him as the large black Volga veered across the carriageway.
Russia looked up, a lighted cigarette in his mouth and waved at the other drivers, "Privet!" he called as Leningrad's motorists honked and flashed at him. "People are so friendly, da?" he said to Latvia, whose eyes were tightly shut.
Thankfully, it wasn't far to the airport. However, when Latvia climbed out of the car, she felt sick. The car was abandoned – which was really the only word that could describe Russia's parking attempt – across two parking spaces, diagonally. Russia smiled happily, threw his briefcase at Latvia and then bounced along towards the terminal building – he loved airports and aeroplanes and found the whole idea of flying fascinating. He wasn't wholly convinced about the physics of it, believing instead it was some kind of magic that kept the large 'metal birds' in the air.
Security was, for once, Latvia noted, a simple affair. She handed the KGB border guards their identity cards, Russia gazing around him with a blank, spacey expression, and they were waved through – the guards saluting Russia as he passed through the security barrier. Latvia expected it to light up like a Christmas tree and she wasn't disappointed. Russia grinned happily, "It always does this for me!" he said, thinking that it meant he was 'special' in some way.
Latvia had a quiet word with the guards, (as instructed by Lithuania) who took a more careful look at Russia's passport and papers, whilst the latter (with a blissful smile on his face) walked backwards and forwards through the security barrier sending the device into fits of flashing lights and wailing alarms. By the sixth walkthrough, one of the KGB guards put a hand on Russia's arm and earned himself a dangerous growl and a shove from the large Nation.
"Sir, we can through now," Latvia said nervously as the KGB guard picked himself up. His colleague was on the radio calling for possible back-up to deal with General Braginski.
"Oooooh!" Russia said and, with remarkable docility, and followed the smaller Nation through to the departure lounge. "I like airports," Russia told her.
Latvia glanced at the list of instructions Lithuania had written out for her.
Make sure the KGB see all the papers – it gives him special treatment for security
He loves the security barrier and the more it lights up the happier he will be
Make sure he has at least half a bottle of vodka or he will be unmanageable
Don't give him caffeine or he won't sit down for the whole flight
If you hear/see any Germans in the vicinity, steer him towards the crèche/play area – the children will calm him down, or take him to watch the aeroplanes taking off
Don't leave him unattended at any time – if he goes to the toilet, go with him (Latvia winced at that, she hated using the men's loo and always made sure she got in a cubicle for obvious reasons)
Give him the aisle seat, then he can spread his legs out and if you're lucky he'll go to sleep
Instruct the stewardesses not to give him:
Any sweets (they make him hyper)
Coffee (as mentioned)
A newspaper (he might forget he's in public and start shouting about other Nations, especially if he sees some news about China)
Remember to call him Ivan and insist he calls you Raivis – don't forget you're in public
Latvia was actually annoyed at these instructions. Honestly, did they think she was stupid? And anyone would think she was babysitting a four year old child, not escorting a 1000 year old Nation who'd fought more wars than she'd had hot dinners. It was ridiculous.
"I can hear Germans..." Russia growled.
Shit. Latvia took his arm, "Sir, come with me," she said and steered him away quickly. She looked around wildly and then saw the sign for the children's crèche and headed there, "Sir, come this way, and I'll buy you a vodka."
"Really?" Russia followed blindly but kept looking behind him, his violet eyes narrowing... he hoped there were no Germans in his Motherland or he would kick their arses all the way back to Berlin.
Toris was correct, the sights and sounds of children playing did calm the Russian. He sat at a nearby table, happily drinking vodka and watched with a smile on his face.
"I would like to have kids some day, Raivis. What about you?" Russia asked her.
Latvia considered this and was about to answer when Russia said, "Do you think you will be a father some day?"
Latvia almost choked on her coffee and said in a very definite voice, "No, Sir. I am absolutely sure I will never be a father."
"Tut tut, Raivis. Children are our future."
An hour and a half flight was too long, Latvia decided. Russia had sat in the aisle seat and he had, thankfully, fallen asleep, but he'd snored throughout the whole flight – the sounds drowning out the engine noise. However, this was better than their conversation beforehand:
"There are no parachutes!"
This was not a comment everyone needed to hear and the rest of the passengers looked around nervously.
"No, Ivan, we don't need them."
"But suppose I need to jump out?"
"You won't need to jump out..." Latvia wondered whether she should mention they weren't in the middle of a War – that War – but mentioning the War could bring its own problems.
Russia considered this, "I bet I could fly this plane."
Latvia doubted this very much, the man had trouble driving a car in a straight line. "Ivan, perhaps you should just relax? We'll be there soon."
"Hmmm..."
The air stewardess had caused more hassle by asking Russia if he wanted her to put his coat and scarf away in a locker. Latvia had thought it was a reasonable request as it was June and Russia was still dressed for the depths of a Russian winter. However, Russia was horrified at the idea, and clung to his scarf and glared at the poor woman, puffing out his pale cheeks, "I can't take off my scarf," he told her, "I might get cold!"
The air stewardess had looked at Latvia in sympathy. Latvia inclined her head towards Russia to indicate that said individual had 'problems' and the air stewardess, seemingly content that Latvia was his 'carer', walked on.
Kiev, Ukraine
Latvia liked Kiev. It was nice to be outside of Russia and it seemed warmer here than in Leningrad. An elegant city, she thought, with lovely buildings. She liked Leningrad but Leningrad to her meant servitude and loss of freedom. She sighed again as they got in a taxi. Russia, thankfully, was quiet.
"It's a beautiful city isn't it, Ivan?" she asked, carefully, breaking the silence. (She couldn't quite get used to calling him by his human name.)
"Da, it is, but it was destroyed by the Mongols in the 12 hundred and ..." Russia scoured his memory for the exact date.
"Never mind..." Latvia said lamely.
"1240...no 1230...maybe it was 1250... I can't remember. But it was a Thursday..."
"Well..." Latvia tried to think of something to say to this and wished Toris and Eduard were there, they always knew what to say. She just hoped Russia wasn't going to regress back to his memories of the Mongol invasion. The very dates blew her mind - she hadn't even been born then.
"They were very bad people..." Russia twitched and then his hand went to his neck and he fiddled with his scarf tentatively.
"Well that was then, this is now. It's a beautiful city, now." Latvia emphasised the 'now' and wished the taxi would hurry up to Ukraine's house before Russia went into full reminiscing mode.
She dug into her pocket for the emergency bottle of vodka that Lithuania had insisted she carried and handed it to him.
Russia took it from her, his violet eyes had misted over and his hands were shaking a little and took a huge gulp. It seemed to steady him because his next comment was fairly normal, "Do you think we can go to the zoo later?" he asked her.
"Erm, well... I suppose... you're in charge, Sir," Latvia answered.
"I am? Oh yes I am."
Finally (and not soon enough for Latvia) they arrived at Ukraine's house. A small farmhouse on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by potato fields, chickens running free in the yard, cows and horses and a large tractor stood next to the barn.
Russia paid the taxi driver and got out.
Latvia followed and they stood in the warm sunshine, surveying their surroundings. Latvia thought it all looked very rustic and peaceful. Russia had narrowed his eyes, his large nose was twitching – not out of displeasure – he liked farm-life, tractors etc but he was wary that his little sister was about to leap out at any moment with a pair of handcuffs and a marriage contract. If she knew he was visiting Katya she would surely be there and she could be hiding around any corner.
Latvia stepped forward and was about to knock on Katya's door, when Russia put a restraining hand on her arm and shook his head. He put his hand in his coat and brought out Mr Pipe. He couldn't hit his own sister, he knew that much, he loved his little sister, but she didn't have any of the same compunction when she used her knives in her attempts to 'persuade' him to 'become one' with her and he bore scars in testament to her tenacity.
He put a finger to his lips and cocked his head, listening intently, he couldn't hear any of the usual tell-tale signs of Belarus – the scrape of metal or the weird chants of 'Marry me, marry me'.
Latvia sighed, she could not understand this fear Russia had for his little sister. Someone as big and strong as him, scared of a small girl? It was weird and almost laughable.
She was scared of Belarus, but then again she was a small Nation, but she found if she kept out of Belarus' way, kept her head down and showed no interest at all in Russia, then she was alright. 'It was bizarre,' Latvia thought, 'if she were my sister I would hit her'. Her boss could be such a wuss, she thought. (Although she would never dare in a million years tell him this.) 'I bet my Ivan from the War wouldn't be afraid of little Belarus. And I bet he could kick the crap out of Mr Russia.' She smiled wistfully at the thought of her Ivan coming to her rescue and kicking the crap out of Russia and then was brought out of her reverie by Russia thumping on the door.
"Big Sis! Big Sis! Open up. You have to pay your gas bill!"
There were barely perceptible sounds from inside the house and Latvia listened hard, "I think I can hear her boobies bouncing," she said in wonder.
Russia glanced down at her. "I worry about you, Raivis. You have a dirty mind."
"Sir, I didn't mean..."
"Big sis! Open up!" he called.
"Oh, brother Russia! I can't pay at the moment... because I'm broke. Totally broke."
"Don't make me break the door down," Russia said, tapping the door with Mr Pipe, "Do I have to visit your boss, Katya?" he added.
The door was flung open. Evidently, Ukraine decided it was best if she dealt with him, rather than her boss. Tears streaked her cheeks and her blouse had popped open. She tried desperately to make herself presentable.
Russia stormed into the house and plonked himself down at the table, "I'm not leaving until you pay up."
"Erm, Miss Ukraine, I can see your bra," Latvia said tentatively.
Ukraine hissed at the smaller Nation, "I know..." and then, to Latvia's further bewilderment, the Ukrainian took a cut onion out of her pocket, gave a quick sniff of it, shoved it back and turned to her brother.
"Oh, little Vanya!" she wailed, further tears coursing down her cheeks, "I don't know how I'm going to pay."
Latvia's mouth fell open. The artfulness of it shocked the younger Nation. Katya could rival Estonia, she thought, for slyness.
Russia sighed, he wasn't totally unmoved by his sister's 'tears' and he was flustered, his cheeks blazing red as she tried, unsuccessfully to stitch up the buttons on her gaping blouse. What was wrong with his sisters? Why couldn't they be normal? He tried to look away as Katya's feminine undergarments appeared to be under intense strain.
Latvia couldn't look away, she was mesmerised. 'How clever,' she thought. 'Get Russia embarrassed enough and he'll no doubt sod off and she won't have to pay her gas bill.'
Katya switched on the kettle and continued to mend her gaping blouse. "Latvia, would you give me a hand?" she asked the young Baltic.
Russia jumped up, took hold of Latvia and steered her outside.
"I know your little secret, Latvia," he told her, "You Baltics all think you have been very clever..."
"S...S...Sir? I don't know what you mean?" Latvia trembled.
Russia giggled creepily, "You thought I wouldn't notice, didn't you, Latvia? My little Baltics think I am stupid and I don't notice... but I notice lots of things."
Latvia started to panic, "S...S... Sir?" she squeaked and then 'squeaked' in a lower octave, "Sir?"
"You can't fool me, Latvia. I know all about it... I'm not angry, but I have to make some demands of you..."
"W...W...What?" she squeaked, 'Ohmygod ohmygod,' she thought, 'he knows I'm a girl, I've had it, he'll take me to a hotel room and ...'
"You're in love with my sister..."
"W...W...What?"
"Da, you have a crush on Katya. You keep talking about her boobs and I know you like her."
Latvia was so relieved, her head swimming, and she fainted on the spot.
Russia gave a little 'Oh' and caught her in his arms.
Ukraine opened the door and, finding Russia holding Latvia in his arms, put her hands on her hips and said in her most disapproving voice, "Vanya! What on earth do you think you're doing?"
"He fainted!" Russia said, helplessly, holding the limp body.
Katya laughed at this. She still found it absolutely priceless that her dear 'little' brother had not realised that his smallest Baltic was a girl. The bet with Estonia still stood, much as she would like to reveal all to Russia – she was of the opinion that Russia and Latvia should get together – but she'd made a solemn promise not to tell him. Besides, the situation was funny.
Latvia came round on Katya's couch with a wet flannel on her face, Katya's amused face looking down at her and Russia pacing up and down.
"Women's problems, Raivis?" Katya asked in a whisper.
Raivis sat up quickly and pulled the flannel off her face. "He thinks I've got a crush on you!" she whispered back nodding towards him – Russia.
Katya laughed hysterically, "Oooh Raivis. I don't think I'm your type."
"You are too old for him," Russia said disapprovingly, "But at least he might actually be growing up to be a man."
Latvia hoped to God that Russia wouldn't say anything about the possibility of her 'balls' dropping.
A few hours later found the three Nations sat around Katya's kitchen table eating Borsch and black rye bread, watered down with vodka.
"You may as well leave, Vanya. I don't have any money."
"I'm not leaving until you've paid."
This conversation – in various permutations but in the same vein had been going on now for two hours. Latvia sighed, the vodka was going to her head, although her capacity for the stuff was almost as great as Russia's. "Perhaps we should just go home, Sir? Toris will expect us back soon."
"Nyet, not until I've got the gas money."
Gas wasn't just on Russia's mind, as his stomach gave ominous rumbles. He stood up, stretched and hurried upstairs to the bathroom.
Katya shook her head, "I should charge him for his gas..." she said.
The house was a small one and the two women could hear Russia's gas production.
"I maybe overdid the onions in that Borsch," Katya said, with a horrid smile.
"Miss Katya, I'm trying to get him to go home. He might not leave if you keep feeding him. I don't want to stay here."
"Oh Raivis, don't worry, I've got a Plan B."
Russia came back in, rubbing his stomach. However much his stomach was troubling him, it clearly didn't trouble him enough to stop him eating and drinking. He pointed up the stairs to Katya's bathroom, "I wouldn't go in there for a bit," he said ominously, "I think Kamchatka might be playing up a bit."
Latvia shuddered, the world's largest gas producer indeed.
Katya opened another bottle of vodka, "I made torte and I've also had a go at making my own mead," she said.
Latvia was worried now, the last time they – along with Estonia and Lithuania – had partaken of Ukraine's home-made alcoholic beverages, Eduard had passed out under the table, Toris – the normally shy and reserved Lithuanian – had removed all his clothes and danced around in the garden howling at the moon, Russia had claimed he couldn't feel his tongue and had disappeared upstairs to be found asleep in his sister's wardrobe. Latvia remembered feeling drunk for days after. Only Katya seemed to escape any after-effects.
"I really think we should go, Mr Russia," Latvia said, "Toris will be expecting us."
"You can stay here," Katya said, calling Russia's bluff.
"Okay," Russia said, "I will," and he cut himself a huge slice of cake, poured himself another glass of vodka and prepared to eat and drink Katya out of house and home as her punishment for not paying.
Latvia looked from brother to sister and back again.
Katya grinned evilly, "Well as I only have two bedrooms..."
Russia looked up and then looked at Latvia, "Latvia will share with me."
"Noooo!" Latvia wailed and then stopped when she saw Russia raise an eyebrow.
"You are not sharing with my sister, young man. I do not want my sister to get a little package in nine months' time. I think your hormones are getting ahead of you."
Vodka snorted out of Katya's nose, "You and Latvia will be very cosy in my big bed, Vanya. I will take the smaller guest room," and she giggled.
"Da, don't worry little Latvia, you will be okay with me."
Latvia turned big sad, pleading, blue eyes at Katya, 'Oh dear Lord, help me,' she silently begged.
Katya, although quite ruthless in some ways, manipulative in many ways, was not wholly cruel. And although she would dearly have loved to see her 'little' brother get it on with Latvia, she couldn't, much as she would have liked to, force Latvia into such a situation. She sighed, "Well, Vanya, are you going home or not?"
"Are you going to pay your gas bill?"
"Hahaha – no."
"Then I'm not going home."
Katya smiled, got up, went into the hallway, picked up the telephone and started dialling, "Privet, Natalya?"
Russia froze, she wouldn't would she?
He heard a gabbling of Ukrainian and he trembled, his strong body shook and his hands shook as he heard Katya tell their younger sister, "Oh Natalya, I'm so sorry I forgot to tell you that Vanya was visiting... yes he's here right now!"
Russia leapt to his feet, a look of complete horror on his face. His snapped his fingers at a shocked Latvia, "Raivis, get your stuff, we're going."
Latvia almost wept with relief as Russia started shoving her out the door.
"Shouldn't we telephone for a taxi, Sir?" she asked.
Russia considered this. It was 'only' 250 miles between Kiev and Minsk... Belarus was a fast driver and, even worse, if she got a quick flight over, she could be there within an hour. He started sweating.
Ukraine had already hung up, "A family reunion! It will be so nice..."
Russia disagreed. He picked up the phone, his hands sweating, and dialled a number, "Taxi please, now, as soon as you can... What do you mean you can't get here for another hour? That's no good..." Russia's panic was rising and he gripped the receiver so hard the plastic cracked.
He flung the telephone away from him and it smashed against the wall, "I need your car, sestra," he said.
"It's in the garage having a new gearbox fitted," Katya said.
Russia dragged his fingers through his hair in desperation and then an idea occurred to him. He stepped outside and surveyed the transport available to him – a large tractor. Latvia stood next to him, surely he wasn't thinking... was he?
Russia went back inside, "Sestra where are the keys to your tractor?"
He was.
"Sir, wouldn't it go too slow?" Latvia asked.
Russia thought about this. But desperation was driving him and he looked at his sister in desperation. He really didn't want to end the evening hiding in the barn from his little sister or fending off her affections or worst case scenario - handcuffed naked to a bed.
"The tractor only goes 8 miles an hour, brother..." Katya said.
"That's alright... I should get to the airport before she gets here... just..."
"...And it doesn't work at the moment," Katya added as Russia picked up the keys jubilantly.
Russia slumped dejectedly, he was stuck. They could walk along the road but he doubted that they could get to the airport which was at least 20 miles away before Belarus arrived, even if he ran... and he didn't relish Belarus finding him out in the open...
Katya was smiling, 'this was such fun', she thought, 'this will teach him, he won't be in such a hurry to visit me next time'.
However, it was Latvia who saved the day. "Sir, can you ride?" she asked tentatively.
"Ride? Ride what?" he replied, much annoyed.
"A horse, Sir? I noticed Miss Katya has some horses."
"Are they broken down as well, sestra?" Russia asked sarcastically.
Latvia would have thought it was romantic, if it had been her Ivan she was holding around the waist and not Russia. She sat behind him on Katya's huge carthorse, which, although not built for speed, was going at a fair speed along the road, Russia proving to be quite the horseman.
"I like horses! Come on, Clover," Russia said, gently patting the horse's mane, "Good boy. I would have named you Warrior or Storm or..."
Latvia ignored him, as did 'Clover' who just trotted on. 'Actually this is quite romantic, who would have thought I'd be carried off on a white horse with a tall, handsome (Latvia blushed, but he was actually quite handsome) Russian? I might put this in my book... The heroine is being harassed by undesirables and her hero, in uniform (Latvia ignored Russia's stained and scruffy Red Army coat) arrives on a white stallion (Latvia was unsure if 'Clover' was a stallion – she thought it rude to look), picks her up in his arms and gallops away.' She sighed, subconsciously tightening her hold on Russia's waist while the oblivious Russian chatted to the horse.
They did finally get to the airport. Latvia had to drag Russia away from the horse, who was tied up in the car park (the horse, not Russia).
As they went through security, just in time for the 10.30 night flight to Leningrad, a small, determined-looking, platinum-blond breathless woman marched through 'Arrivals'. "This time, he will be mine," the woman thought as she stormed through the airport, cutting a swathe around her, people edging backwards.
She was fully armed with a suitcase containing her 'brother-catching kit' – handcuffs, a length of rope and, because he always resisted her advances, a whip and some knives.
When Belarus finally arrived at her sister's house, Russia was already in the air above the Russian border and home free. 'Foiled again', she thought. When she heard about Russia and Latvia's escape via Katya's horse she almost swooned and was severely jealous of the young Baltic. 'Next time he won't be so lucky,' she thought.
Author's Notes:
Kiev was actually destroyed in 1240 by a Mongol invasion. The actual day is unknown.
When Latvia talks about 'my Ivan' she obviously means the Ivan she had a one-night stand with in the War – which as you and I, dear reader, both know this is also Russia, one and the same... but she doesn't know this... yet.
Borsch – a vegetable soup made of beets, potatoes, cabbages, tomatoes, garlic and onions – often served with bread.
Kamchatka peninsular contains around 160 volcanoes, about 19 are active.
Russia is the biggest natural gas producer – closely followed by America. (the countries not the Nations – oh well, who knows?)