I feel like I should apologize, I have no idea where this came from. Don't hate me!

Rated M. I do not own hetalia. Inspired by a youtube video I saw called 'Dirty Picture'.

OoOoOo

She thought she might be ready to die from sheer boredom.

Mostly because England was talking to her...well, talking at her.

"And," England continued into his one hour lecture, which America had tuned out fifty nine minutes ago, "don't forget to send Russia your DIRTY picture."

Oh! Woah! Wait a minute now. She heard that part.

America turned her blue eyes, which were wide behind Texas, toward England. Her focus absolute as she searched his face for a hint of a trick or a joke. Or... something! But he looked perfectly serious.

Hold the phone.

"Wait," she said slowly as she continued to gaze at him with wide-eyed horror. "What?"

England sighed, his brows furrowing together -which did him no justice but she would poke fun at that later-, as he glared at her. Yikes! Okay, he knew she hadn't entirely been paying attention again.

"Your DIRTY picture. You have to give it to Russia."

"My what?" She half-shouted, which given her normal speaking voice was just shy of deafening. "To who?"

England, however, was entirely used to her antics and his features morphed into displeasure.

"Whom," the island nation corrected sourly, "and for the last time your DIRTY picture, which by the way you are very late in doing. It was supposed to be in by last month. So I expect you not to argue with me, America. And, you are to send it to Russia straight away."

Her jaw actually dropped and America could only blink at him. Her brain, mightily impressive as it was, was practically trying to beat itself against her skull to keep from fully comprehending this atrocity.

Russia? She had to send a dirty picture to Russia? What sort of nonsense was this?

England sighed. He stared at her pointedly.

"You do remember the last meeting, don't you?"

She pondered that. She showed up, like a boss. There had been some pastries, because she was starving that early in the morning. America had spoken with South Korea and gotten yelled at by a few nations. More than a few nations, actually. Then she tried to hang out with Ukraine, which had ticked Russia off...

So...

Business as usual really.

"Yeah, dude. Totally," she replied confidently with a beaming smile. Her earlier horror nearly instantly forgotten in the wake of remembering her own epic-ness.

"You don't." England snapped, clearly annoyed by her short attention span. Then again, he supposed he should count her lucky stars that she had made it this long.

"I do!" America protested with a frown.

"No," the older said with a slight feeling of contempt to his words, "you do not. Because if you did, you would recall that the world agree to put Russia in charge of the DIRTY proceedings. This includes any and all pictures."

The female nation tilted her head. They... they had someone in charge of that? Really?

"Really?"

"Yes," England said with his exasperation growing.

She eyed him speculatively. Her blue eyes narrowing slightly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"Really sure?

"Yes, America,"

"Super, duper, absolutely, 100 %-"

"Yes, I am bloody sure you twit!" He shouted, unable to contain himself any longer.

Ah... he was serious then.

America watched his forehead throb in child-like fascination. There was no way that could be healthy, but the colors he turned were simply awe inspiring.

How the hell did he do that?

She blinked at him, as she shrugged. Her gaze still locked on his forehead.

"Alright, England," She agreed with some misgivings, "if you say so...and you are sure everyone else sent one to Russia already?"

The Island nation looked as if he were about to explode.

Epic.

America giggled internally as his green eyes darkened in a hostile manner. Man, riling England up was hysterical.

"Everyone!" He snapped out again.

Well... if everyone else had done it, then she supposed she had to do it to. After all, she had agreed.

At... some point.

Eh, it would be fine.

OoOoOo

His phone chirped at him happily.

Russia glanced at it dispassionately with his violet orbs showing just how tired he was. It was close to two in the morning, and he still had to finish the reports on the DIRTY project. Not the most inspiring of acronyms, he granted. However, it had to be done and quickly to keep international goodwill at an all time high. He tapped the screen and swiped the code in.

His eyebrow rose, of its own accord, when he noticed the message was from Amerika. He nearly snorted in irritation. What did that nation want now? Was she not satisfied with creating chaos on her own time? Now she had to interfere with his early mornings.

Hm. It had an attachment.

The large nation sighed heavily, and noticed that title was a little strange.

Russia. Hey dude. I meant to send this like a month ago. Take care! USA all the way!

Did he even want to know? Maybe, a little. If for no other reason than to mock her for it later. Which was always entertaining. Even during their conflicts.

His curiosity grew and he waited patently for the image to load. He glanced away, looking back at his reports for a few moments. He skimmed the latest reports from Norway and Denmark on their progress.

When he looked back at the phone, he nearly stopped breathing.

What... was... this?

The view was from above. America was stretched out on a bed of some sort, the red background looked like silk from the slight sheen on them. She was covered with a white and blue sheet. And, by covered, he meant that he could almost make out the most intimate parts of the nation that made it her mission to make him furious. Or fight him over everything.

If fighting her had involved this, Russia would have gladly gone to war with her a few more times.

He noticed that she had a very sensual look in her blue eyes. Texas, the part that had hooked over the back of America's ears, was being lightly touched by a pink tongue.

Russia swallowed, feeling the heavy heat of arousal stir in his loins. His pants felt overly tight and uncomfortable.

His violet eyes focused on the stars painted on her body. White stars, nearly pristine and glowing on her skin. It took no effort to imagine that there were fifty of them.

It looked like her wildness was fully captured in the single moment. The unpredictable but vivacious nature that left him guessing what she was up to at every meeting, was all there in her pose.

There was something so erotic about her face and the image she presented that he continued to stare at the picture in disbelief. A look of lust entered his eyes, and his work was quickly forgotten. Perhaps... Amerika was not all that irritating?

A soft blush stole over his features, and Russia grinned.

OoOoOo

America had no idea what she had done wrong.

"Dammit America!" England chastised her again. "You still haven't sent your DIRTY picture."

She blinked at the island nation, surprised.

"Bu...But I did," she argued back, suddenly embarrassed about having to remember taking the freaking thing. Did England have to shout so much? Why couldn't he talk with his indoor voice, like normal nations?

Geez.

America blushed, still shocked at how her picture had turned out. It was nice. She looked hot, if she did say so herself. And, the photographer was one of the best in the business. As well as discreet. America had even confirmed with her boss, that yes, she did have to send in her dirty picture. However, the president hadn't been able to give her much of an idea of what she should do, he was way too busy.

So, she hired a photographer. Though, she had to say...

Russia and the rest of the world were a bunch of pervs. Though, she admitted she was quite curious over how some of the other nations' had turned out.

She was betting France was nude and Japan's somehow had something to do with a sword. Which was sort of hot, and sort of strange. Prussia's likely had leather in there somewhere. She had... just a little bit... wanted to see Prussia's.

Purely in the interest of comparison, of course.

"No you did not," England growled as he waved his hands around. "I just spoke with the team heading up-"

"Stop picking on Amerika, da?" Russia's happy tone carried over the pair, and the two nations stilled.

Russia was... defending America?

The female nation blinked and looked up at the smiling face of the Slavic nation. She was, understandably, unnerved by him not giving her the 'I hope you die' smile. Which she had named it. Patent pending.

She mutely watched as Russia nodded to England happily, before dragging his chair next to America. Right next to her.

The blue-eyed nation stared at the three inches of space he'd left for her without his body swallowing up the rest.

England glared at him heatedly.

"I was talking with America," the island nation pointed out crossly.

"And, now you are done? Da? Good." Russia said with a slight bit of authority creeping into his tone.

America's eyes widened behind Texas as Russia leaned in closer to her.

"How is the weather at your home?" He asked with a wide grin on his face.

She glanced at England, with a look that frankly expressed 'What the fuck is this?'. England looked as flabbergasted as she felt. America furrowed her brow as her eyes shifted back to Russia as she cleared her throat.

"Fine." She said nearly quietly. "Blue skies and all. Some rain, but not much."

"Blue you say?" Russia asked with his eyes glinting strangely.

"Uh... yeah..." America trailed off.

Russia smiled widely again, and began chatting to her about the weather at his home. He expressed a great interest in taking a trip to visit her, and Russia ignored the questioning looks from other nations.

Including Ukraine, whom he had fought over America with just the month before.

The star-spangled nation couldn't help but wonder why Russia was being so nice all of a sudden. Not that it was unwelcomed, but it was unexpected. However, it was nice to have the larger nation on her side for once, instead of at her throat.

OoOoOo

Northern Italy giggled absently, which caught his brothers attention.

Which caught Spain's attention, because Southern Italy was ignoring him.

That in turn, caught France's attention, because he was talking to Spain.

The four sets of eyes noticed that Russia was practically touching America and she looked rather confused by his actions. Yet, the furniture remained unscathed, so everyone was breathing a sigh of relief. For the time being.

Spain's interest was piqued. "Is... Russia... flirting with America?" He asked with green-eyes the size of saucers.

"Non...non... that cannot..." France trailed off as he squinted at the pair.

He said a prayer to the lord above, because it did look for all the world as if... Russia was trying to seduce America. The Slavic nation had started touching her shoulder lightly, as if he were testing the waters.

America looked a little skittish about the whole ordeal, but she laughed as something he said. Her blue eyes were looking at all the other nations, not yet to the point of looking for help.

"Isn't it wonderful?" Northern Italy said in a sing-song voice, with a smile on his lips.

His brother gave a snort of irritation.

"Stupid bastard," Southern Italy groused out. "He clearly thinks he's going to get something."

Something?

Ah.

France paused, his eyes widening slightly. The proverbial wheels started spinning in his head and suddenly he was laughing with a large amount of amusement shining in his face.

"Oui, that would explain why he is acting so... nice." The male nation leered openly.

"What the blazes are you prattling on about?" England demanded as he stomped over to the others angrily.

"How Russia is going to try and woo America for her favors." Northern Italy said with an impish smile.

A secretive smile that Southern Italy was keenly aware spelled trouble for Germany, which he did not care about. He hated that potato bastard.

"Oh sod off," England argued. "There is no way in all the seven seas that Russia would think America would..."

"If he doesn't, he's sure as hell doing a fantastic acting job," Southern Italy interrupted rudely.

The older nations snickered.

"What did you tell America?" France asked, as he slapped England on the back roughly. If anyone knew why Russia was suddenly acting friendly toward America, it would be England. Also, given the timeline, it did not take much to understand that this was all starting after the last meeting, where England had been scolding his former colony.

The green eyed nation hissed like an angry cat at France touching him.

"What?"

"What. Did. You. Tell. America," The more flamboyant nation stressed, "at the last meeting?"

"Get your hands off of me, and I told her to give Russia her DIRTY picture."

Southern Italy rolled his eyes with an annoyed look on his features. France was nearly clapping as imaginary roses blossomed in his mind. Ah, this was going to either be utterly adorable...

Or kill them all.

Yet, as a nation that was inclined to experience passion and love -much like Southern Italy- France was willing to see this out. He laughed again.

"Then, we will see just how nice Russia can be when he thinks there is a prize coming his way." Spain jested, starting to guffaw at the very idea of Russia seducing America. If she was even aware of what was going on.

Russia had moved on to stroking the back of her hand, and the female nation was staring at the Russia as if he had three heads.

... It would take time, Spain thought.

"I fail to see," England replied acerbically, "just what is so amusing about America's progress on the Development of International Research for Teleomorphs and Yeasts. The Svalbard Global Seed Vault will be expecting the indigenous samples that Russia has organized."

All of what he said was very true. It was essential to round out the seed vault with more than just the plants that were helpful, medicinal, or edible. They would need the decomposers of the food chains to help sustain life again, should such an event come to pass.

France and Southern Italy exchanged a look. Northern Italy was preoccupied with plying Germany for more favors.

England soon turned to trying to strangle Spain. Who could not stop laughing.