Oh my goodness, I am SO sorry for how long this took! I won't go into details but pretty much all you need to know is: Anime conventions rock, school does not. In any way, shape, or form.

Again, sorry for the kind of filler-y chapter, but for you Cold War pairing fans, here's a little instant gratification to make up for it. (: For all you who actually read this for, ya know, THE PLOT, it does move along a little bit, but not much. Promise next one will be more plot-moving-along-y but it'll probably take a bit for me to get it written.

Warnings: Definite mentions of slash and quite a few big swear words, but other than that, we're good.

Enjoy!


America stumbled down the stairs, blindly flicking on every light as he went, not noticing or not caring that the taller nation following behind simply turned them all off again as he passed. America normally would've been more worried that his 'arch-nemesis' was currently walking less than a foot behind him and seriously invading his 'No Russia' zone as he did, but right now he had other things to worry about. Like the fact that his head was pounding out the national anthem inside his skull, the whispers of discontent were louder than they'd been in months, not to mention the fact it was ridiculous-early-o-clock and he needed coffee, like NOW. But worst of all….

What exactly was he gonna tell Mary?

Groan. "She's going to kill me."

"Who is?"

America jumped. Crap. Right. Big creepy Russian in his kitchen. How had he forgotten about that? More importantly….

"What're you even doing here Russia?"

Giggle. "Visiting you of course!"

America shot him a baleful look out of one eye as he turned on the light and headed for the coffee maker. He didn't really believe Russia had come all the way from his house just to visit him, so why in the heck was he here? The blonde wracked his brain for an answer, some important conference or meeting he had forgotten, but either there wasn't one, or his mind was still too preoccupied with his lack of sleep or more likely with the ten course band currently beating out a rhythm between his ears. Dammit! What was the date? Maybe if he could get hold of a paper he could figure out why his people were so pissed. Come to think of it, his boss hadn't called him since this whole thing started. America was starting to feel woefully out of the loop.

Ignoring the other country for the moment, America set to work making a pot of coffee black enough to take the paint off a wall built sometime before the '20s. He couldn't seem to drink it any other way ever since the last World War, having gotten used to Iggy's ability to take even a good ol' cup a joe and turn it into roofing tar. Without thinking he got out two newly-bought mugs from the freshly-stocked cupboard. Not that he was even sure Russia drank coffee, but whatever. Habit.

Inhaling the fortifying smell of coffee percolating, he took a deep breath and turned with purpose back to Russia, only to find the taller man staring at him with those violet eyes and that disturbing smile. Like a creeper. Huffing out a breath in annoyance, mostly at himself for not being used to the other's Let's-Put-the-American-Off-Balance tactics yet, he met those purple eyes squarely with his bespectacled blue ones.

"Okay so, what are you doing here again? Really? Is there a point?"

"Well, when one simply drops off of the face of the Earth, and forget to tell anyone where they're going, or indeed, when they're going to get back, it makes others worry."

Scoff. "Gee, didn't know you cared."

Smile. "Oh, I don't. But eventually, once England had exhausted all his other resources, he called me and asked if I 'of all people' knew where you had gone."

Gape. "Wha-? But-but, he called Canada! Mattie said he told him he knew where I was and was gonna come find me!"

Head tilt. "Who?"

America groaned and mentally cursed his brother's uncanny ability to remain invisible to people he's known for a century, face-palming as he turned back around to the counter and pour two steaming mugs of caffeine-in-a-cup, plopping one down in front of Russia before he took a gulp of his own, watching as the other peered curiously into the cup, inspecting its contents cautiously.

Snort. "It's fine. Maybe not the best tasting, but perfectly fine, whadd'ya think I did? Poison it?"

Cheerfully psychotic grin. "Oh no! You are, of course, a fool, but even I do not think you would be so stupid as to do something like that."

America glared, not the least bit intimidated in the face of what had sent other people and nations alike scurrying in terror. Absent-mindedly he took another sip of his mug, strangely triumphant when Russia, once he had deemed the cup unthreatening in everyway, finally took a careful sip. He didn't immediately spit it back out as America had seen France and even Canada do on several occasions when faced with his coffee-o-death, though he did wince before gingerly set it back on the bar. It didn't escape the younger nation's gleeful notice that he did not pick it back up again.

"Okay, so, if you're here for Iggy, obviously you can see I'm fine-"

"Indeed."

America paused, not liking the way Russia had said that at all. Narrowing his now sleep-cleared eyes at Russia's rather amused smile, he asked what he felt was a rather legitimate question:

"Alright, now, I know you're a creeper and all, but why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"I was merely enjoying the show."

"Eh-?"

He froze when he realized, rather belatedly, that when the weather was really warm, such as it is in say, New Mexico, what exactly it was he slept in. Or rather, what he didn't. He'd been carrying out a conversation with The Villain, in his underwear. He felt his face heat up in mortification, but instead of freaking, he very calmly set down his half-empty cup on the counter, before, still calmly, walking past Russia, meaning to go up to his room and at least put some pants on or something. He made it perhaps a handful of inches past the other nation when a grip of ice closed around his bicep and jerked him back.

He snarled, turning his head to snap at Russia and ask him what the fuck he thought was doing when abruptly Russia reached out and traced one freezing fingertip over a faded scar on America's collar-bone. Alfred shivered-from the fact that Ivan's body-temperature was freakishly low, mind you, NOT for any other reason, thank you very much-and held still, not getting where this was going.

"What is this one from?"

He asked it so quietly, semi-permanent smile gone, that Alfred's mind stalled and he answered without thinking again.

"Revolution. I think that one might've been Bunker Hill."

Ivan nodded thoughtfully, releasing him without another word, allowing Alfred to escape up the stairs and back into his room. He wasn't fleeing mind you, because heroes don't do that, he just, uh….

Dammit. Fine. He was fleeing. Shut up.


Mary was at the absolute end of her rope. Or maybe more accurately, the Head of the Federal Witness Protection's rope since if Inspector Shannon didn't get some answers and fast, she was going to shoot him. Shoot him dead. Like with bullets and everything. She'd take the jail time. Savor it even, because there was no way prison was as bad as this, this...Runaround!

She must have been transferred all of six times in the last hour, and by the time she finally got the Assistant Head's secretary on the phone, she was ready to jump up and dance the Macarena out of sheer joy. But did she get to speak to the Head of the Marshall Service after all of that? Hell no. All she got was a whiny female voice, in a tone that clearly illustrated how much she would rather be 'Elsewhere', telling her that the Head of the Marshall Service was 'unavailable to take her call at this time. -click!-"

That's it. Somebody was dying today. Maybe a certain hyperactive, blonde, pain-in-the-neck, though she wasn't going to name names. She must've ranted for at least twenty minutes before Marshal walked in, efficiently distracting Mary with a cup of hot coffee and a bag of donuts so Stan could make his escape.

Angry chomp of bagel. "Who the Hell do they think they are, making me go in circles like that!"

Theatrical sigh. "Our overlords, while we are all but poor villagers, scraping out a living in the shadow of their great color-collated empire."

Half-hearted glare. "Don't make me smile. I wanna stay mad. Keeps me warm at night."

"And far be it from me to divert the river of your all-consuming rage into a more creative source. Such as work."

"Ugh. You said the 'W' word."

Thankfully Mary was in, if not a good mood per say, at least a less homicidal mood when Alfred bounced through the door, otherwise he probably would've been full of holes before he could needlessly announce his presence with his standard chipper greeting. She merely growled and took another unnecessarily violent bite of her breakfast as Marshal answered with a rather light-hearted greeting of his own. Hey at least he was still breathing and her clip was still full. That was progress as far as she was concerned.

"So Mary, I may have a little problem…"

Urge to kill rising.

"Why am I not surprised? What is it, another long-lost twin you pulled outta the woodwork?"

Confusion. "Huh? Who-? Oh, Mattie! Right. Nah, nothing like that this time. Just an old, um, friend who, ah, got worried about me and came down to see if I was alright."

Urge to kill reaching dangerous levels.

"What part of 'confidentiality agreement' to you not get? I know they're big words, but if you sound them out-"

Laugh. "Sorry Mary, I wasn't really expecting it either. I was just gonna send him packing once he stayed for a while and figured out I was okay, in fact I even called the airport and there's a plane leaving for Moscow within the hour, but-"

"Moscow!"

"Yeah. Anyway, he wouldn't leave `till I explained the situation (pronounced sit-she-ay-shon), and after that he insisted on meeting the people who had (air quotes) 'the patience to put up with' me, said they had ta be saints or summin', so I brought him by-"

Resisting urge to reach for holster becoming extremely difficult.

"You brought him. Here."

"Uh-huh, so's I figured if you just meet him, he'll go away, all quick-like. Whaddo ya say?" Grin.

Fortunately for all parties involved, Marshal stepped in before any blood could be shed.

"We'd love to meet him. Why don't you go get him, and we'll wait here." And give Mary time to simmer down.

"Nah, thas okay, he's right outside." Turning to call over one shoulder. "Hey! R-…Ivan, get in here!"

Both detectives turned expectantly towards the door, unaware how terribly unprepared they would be for what would step through it.


Poor fools. XD

Again, reviews are like cupcakes to me, they create instant happiness! And I would like to thank all have reviewed and what have you so far, I really appreciate it. (:

This one had a few more historically-signifigant things, as well as a couple more (fail) jokes that you would have to watch APH to get, though I don't think anyone is reading this who hasn't seen APH, and if there are, go watch it! Immediately! For it promotes world peace, makes you abnormally patriotic, and can apparently be viewed as 'a crime against humanity', at least accourding to the Korean government. What more could you ask for? (:

((Quick note: America's headache is from the anniversary of 9/11, since that's when I started writing this chapter. Didn't get it uploaded in time, sorry! Hope that clears up any confusion!))

Review please!