Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia obviously; all these characters were created by the magical, marvellous Hidekaz Himaruya.

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Warnings: Multiple crack pairings, France being France, Belarus, implied yaoi, lots of fluff

Chapter 7 – Halloween Part I

Leningrad, Russia – Halloween, 1981 (set a few weeks prior to the events of Baltics Secrets)

Very late PM

It was pitch-black in the closet. Russia swigged his vodka and listened with bated breath for the dreaded sounds of his little sister. She'd been following him around all night and he'd heard the dreaded sounds of 'Oh brother' close behind him as he'd staggered up the stairs.

The closet was certainly not big enough for him to stand up in, but he felt fairly comfortable sitting cross-legged, his dark cloak wrapped around him, the hood up.

He was annoyed with France. He thought he would be the only one in a Darth Vader costume. He had no idea who this person was. His Baltics had been to see a movie called Spar Wars, Start Wars (he liked that version) or something and came home going on about this villain who could kill people just by thought. Imagine that? Russia thought he sounded a bit of a pansy, why not just use your hands?

He took another swig from his bottle and froze as someone had obviously entered the room. He waited, hardly daring to breath and heard little pitter patter of feet. Russia shrank back into the walk-in closet, hiding behind various Red Army coats and a Panda costume and pulled his long legs up and fumbled for his pipe.

He couldn't hit his little sister with a pipe could he? But what else to do if she tried to molest him? He didn't want to end up tied to a bed, naked again.

The closet door opened and then shut as a small figure sidled in next to him. He felt a small hand accidently brush against him and then a squeak as something small and feminine landed on his lap. It wasn't Belarus, there were no sharp bits and as his hand rested on the girlish thigh resting on his, he couldn't detect any stockings or suspenders. He gave a small sigh of relief.

"Ah, Monsieur France!" came a little girlish voice, slurring badly.

France? They thought he was France? Oh yes, the cloak.

Whoever it was, was very drunk. He could smell alcohol on their breath. By the softness of the skin on the person's face and the smooth thighs, he deduced it was probably a girl. 'Oh God, please don't let it be Poland,' he thought. Perhaps it was China as he felt lips suddenly pressed against his own.

He was about to say something but whoever it was, was straddling his lap, their small arms wrapped around his neck and their hands in his hair. He couldn't see a hand in front of him, but he could feel warm lips exploring his own and it felt very nice. Russia shifted a bit, he wasn't used to girls, or anyone for that matter ('please let it be a girl, and not Poland', he thought again) sitting on his lap, never mind kissing him.

His hand shifted up towards the mystery person's chest and he deduced a small soft breast encased in some silky material and he gave a sigh of relief.

"Hmmm Monsieur France, you are a very good kisser..." came the little voice, in an awful fake French accent, slurring very badly, her voice muffled against his chest.

Russia wondered whether he should say something and then decided he'd better not. If he revealed who he was then there would be a huge scream. Various connotations ran through his head. Lily? Oh no Switzy would blast his head off... Hungary? Maybe, although she had bigger boobs... if she knew it was him she would smack him with her frying pan. Belgium? Could be - that would explain the 'oooh France bit'. But why a fake French accent? It certainly wasn't either of his sisters – Russia squeezed the girl's breast tentatively just to make sure, 'might as well', he thought, France was going to get the blame anyway. The girl gave a little squeak of surprise and a moan. Nope, he relaxed, definitely not big enough for Katya and it certainly wasn't Natalya.

The girl hummed and drunkenly kissed him again, her hands stroking his chest, "Oooh Monsieur France, you are so muscular!" she whispered and then giggled, pulled away and then said in a very coquettish voice, "Did you like that Monsieur France?"

'Monsieur France' nodded vigorously and tried to pull her back onto his lap.

The girl did a very bad imitation of France's laugh "Honhonhon," she giggled, "Well I am afraid, Mr France that is all you are going to get! Au revoir!" she said and slithered out, just about fell out of the closet and with remarkable speed for someone who was evidently drunk out of their head, ran out of the room. Russia saw a glimpse of a shapely thigh and pink material of some kind of fairy costume and she was gone.

Bloody hell! Russia couldn't believe it. The little bloody tease. It had to be Hungary... or possibly Belgium. He got out of the closet, re-arranged his cloak and staggered out of the room, on the hunt for his little paramour.


Earlier that day

"A pumpkin! Why do I have to be a pumpkin?" Latvia wailed.

"You know why," Lithuania hissed at her, "Now shut up and go put it on."

Latvia grumbled and stomped off. She passed Darth Vader on the stairs, "Privet Sir," she said grumpily.

Russia waved an unlit light-sabre at her. He couldn't figure out where the switch was – which was a good thing really because when it was lit (a cheery pink) he just stood and stared mesmerised which would have been no good in any fight. "Will you join the Park Side, young Latvia?"

"It's the Dark Side, Sir," she said, pushing the light-sabre out of her face and sighed. How many times did they have to tell him?

Russia carried on down the stairs, still waving the plastic toy joyfully, "May the Horse be with you!" he called.

"It's Force!" Latvia called back and then ran up the steps to her attic bedroom, threw herself on her bed muttering, "Big idiot."

Russia was quite pleased he was this 'Aida' person. Apparently, this was the villain of this Spar Wars saga whatever that was. He quite liked the black cloak, and the black leather gloves, but he wasn't keen on the helmet which made it hard to breathe. No wonder the guy in the movie was wheezing all the time. 'I bet I can beat him in a fight,' Russia thought.

He raised an eyebrow at the scantily-clad nurse sat in his kitchen. Poland was applying bright red nail varnish to his false nails. Russia didn't think nurses should wear false nails. Wouldn't that be a health hazard? Surely, they would get stuck somewhere? He winced at Lithuania's outfit – a doctor's coat with a stethoscope around his neck. Doctors and nurses? Russia shuddered.

"What are you supposed to be?" Russia asked Estonia.

"A vampire bat, Sir. But my wings fell off." Estonia blushed, he hated his outfit. Lithuania had picked out their outfits in a costume shop in Warsaw. He particularly hated the black tights which he was made to wear. They made his legs look like sticks of liquorice.

"You look like a giant pregnant mouse," Russia said, "Why are you wearing all that padding? Are bats supposed to be fat?"

Estonia ignored him. He wished he could have worn the Darth Vader costume. It was wasted on Russia. 'The guy didn't need a bloody costume', the Baltic thought.

"When is everyone arriving?" Russia asked for the twentieth time. He was extremely excited that the Nations were actually coming to his house, voluntarily, for a 'Halloween' party. He had no idea what this Halloween was, but it sounded fun. It was supposed to be scary, he thought, and no doubt it would be – Belarus was coming. But, here he was only a little reassured, there would be lots of people to hide behind and distract her. He hoped America could annoy her enough that she might actually forget about him.

Lithuania sighed, the boss was like a little kid, he decided, "In a few hours, Sir."

He was starting regret this already. It had been Poland's idea, and Russia had picked up on the idea, only managing to persuade his fellow Nations after reassuring them that they could bring their own security services as bodyguards and that they wouldn't be sent to Siberia at any time. Most of them were actually planning on arriving in twos and threes – he knew the Nordics would all come as a group. America had rung him and told him that his boss would only allow him to attend if he came with England. Switzerland had grumbled and said he was only attending because Lily wanted to, but he insisted that he bring his rifle.

The doorbell rang, "Can someone get that...?" Lithuania asked fruitlessly. He looked around. Russia had found the switch for his light-sabre and was looking at the pink glow with a spacey smile on his face. And he'd not even had his medication yet.

Pol held up his hands, "Nails wet, hun," he said.

Estonia shuffled to get out of his chair, the padding got in the way and he shrugged uselessly.

"I'll get it, I do everything else around here," Lithuania said.

He opened the door to three Vikings (literally), a pumpkin, a sailor and a Santa.

"You didn't even make an effort!" he told the Nordics.

Denmark charged in, dropped his huge axe on the hallway floor with a clang and stomped in carrying his beer, "Chill, man."

"Well I did!" the pumpkin aka Iceland said, he pointed to his fellow Nordics, "They're boring."

"Why dress as Vikings when you are Vikings?" Lithuania asked.

"That's in our past, we don't go around pillaging and looting anymore," Norway explained.

Sweden grunted. 'Santa' nodded.

"Speak for yourselves!" Denmark called.

"Is Lily here yet?" the pumpkin asked and then added hurriedly, "And... her brother?"

Lithuania shook his head, wondering why Iceland was interested in the two Alpine Nations.

"Is Raivis here? What's he dressed as?" Sealand asked.

"A pumpkin, he's upstairs getting changed," Lithuania answered. "Why didn't you bother?"

Sealand shrugged, "No-one ever notices me anyway. Besides it's lame. Halloween's for kids."

"Privet! Oh Toris, you look er ... dashing!" Katya bounced up the steps and gave Toris a huge hug, and then proceeded to hug the Vikings to her huge chest, knocking off their horned helmets. She saved a big special hug for Santa, "Oh Tino! You are so cute!" she said.

Santa blushed, finding himself pulled against a tall ladybird with boobs was disconcerting to say the least.

"Is Miss Bela with you?" Lithuania asked, carefully.

The question was answered as the Vikings jumped out of the way as Belarus, adorned in a very clingy, black velvet gown, high heels, her platinum blond hair had red streaks in it, white make-up and bright red lipstick, strode through, "Out of the way," she said.

"Oh Miss Natalya!" Toris exclaimed. His eyes widened as he drank in her beauty.

She shoved him roughly out of the way, "Where's my brother?"

Toris swooned, "I've never seen her look so beautiful..." he whispered, almost panting.

"She's Vampirella," Katya explained.

"That figures," Norway said. "Where do we put our axes?" he added.

"Do you really want an answer to that?" Katya said.

Toris, followed Belarus as if in a dream, waved a hand dismissively, "Oh I don't know... there..." he said.

Sealand ran up the stairs to Latvia's attic bedroom, banged on the door and went in. Latvia had just shoved her pumpkin outfit on as he barged in.

"Peter! You should knock and wait for an answer before coming in!" she told him.

"Calm down, Raivis. God, you're turning into a right woman!"

She sighed heavily, she felt a complete dolt in this outfit, her legs were encased in bright green tights – on what planet did pumpkins have green legs or legs of any colour for that matter? The pumpkin outfit was a horrid orange round affair and she thought she actually looked like a tangerine.

Lithuania had told her she should wear something that covered her 'shape'. She'd argued that she'd always had a 'shape' and what was up with being an elf or a male fairy? Toris had answered that due to the number of Nations arriving and the copious amounts of alcohol, there was likely to be some indiscriminate groping (Latvia was quite thrilled at this idea) so if she wore something padded that totally hid her figure nobody, even if they did touch her, would know she was a girl.

"Haha! You're a pumpkin like Icy!"

"Why are you wearing your school uniform?"

"It's my sailor suit... besides Halloween's lame," Peter answered her. "I bet we can get to see loads though. It'll be a right laugh. Jerk Dad England is coming later as a pirate. How boring. With his boyfriend."

"His boyfriend?"

"America."

"Are they... I mean, really?"

"Who knows?" Peter said, pulling faces at Latvia's ABBA tape collection.

"What's the plan?" Raivis said, putting on the strange cap that came with the outfit – a green stalk – and then flinging it off in disgust.

"Well, I don't know about you, but Mom and Dad said I wasn't to drink, so that's what I'm going to do."

Latvia still thought it hilarious that Peter referred to Sweden and Finland as Mom and Dad. She wished they were her mom and dad, though. She said as much to him frequently, to be told that then she'd have had to go to school and she was lucky living in Russia's house – at least she got to drink loads of vodka.

She often wondered what would have happened if Russia had bought the small micro-nation at the auction before Sweden had. What would Russia have made of the little mouthy schoolboy?

"Well, I intend to get absolutely plastered," she told Peter and with a nod, they set off downstairs to get under a table before 'it all kicked off' and they could get ringside seats. After all, once the big Nations started drinking, inhibitions went out of the window and there were all sorts of opportunity for blackmail.

Author's Note:

This whole episode turned out to be a very long one, so have split it into two parts. Part II to follow shortly (with more fluff) - please be patient as I keep fiddling with the ending.