I have an important thing to announce: my timetable is a complete mess, and the professors on the university decided to have great expectations from us, now that the "basic exam" is at hand (at the end of the semester). What this is? It has three parts: a grammar test, a written and an oral part. It's kind of like Corpus Juris Civilis on the Faculty of Law, a.k.a. Roman Laws (at least in Hungary, that's the first great challenge); if you make it, you're nearly sure to be able to get a diploma/degree, although rumor has it that it isn't such a big deal. Plus, my wireless here in Pécs is stubbornly trying to keep my stress-level high; since I have a new laptop, it has gone crazy and gives me one hell of a hard time. All in all, I might have a HUGE gap between uploading chapters.
Disclaimer: As usually.
10
As it seemed, her plan involving America and Russia went well; on the next meeting, she could hardly suppress a smirk or grin of triumph as she caught the side-glances the two shot each other. They weren't exactly as they were- neither the killing-mocking glares she heard of from the Cold War (well, supposing either of them stayed long enough in the same room with the other for those- as she heard, in the beginning, if one of them arrived, the other one left), nor the passive looks that concealed the question: How are we to step over half a century of nearly blowing each other and the whole world?, and, in America's case, held a certain hope that they might get around it somehow, sometime.
No, the two of them were blushing, even if slightly, and both of them blamed it upon their clothes- Alfred on his bomber jacket, and Ivan on the layers of clothes he wore under the coat (for of course he didn't wear the coat in the over-heated room). She, England, France, Gilbert, and by the looks of him, Japan, however, more than knew what was going on here, and Elizaveta only hoped that the bet-thing won't ruin it all, once the optimist blonde finds out.
It was thus understandable that the rest of the nations quickly (and hopefully without drawing much attention to themselves) left the pair of them alone, so that they could finally talk about it. France nearly closed the door with the key, but Hungary gave him a nice big hit with one of her frying pans, so he abandoned the idea.
Once out of the building, she felt a hand on her shoulders. It took her by surprise, but she had a wide grin on as she saw it was Feliks. They didn't have a proper, face-to-face talk since a while, although they frequently exchanged e-mails and called each other.
'Hi!'
'Hi. What was that little smirk about? Do you have anything to do with Russia seemingly getting America's signs?' he asked in a hushed voice (so no one else could hear it), with a mischievous glint in his green eyes.
'Oh, that's quite a story… we'd better sit down for it.'
She would've denied it, were it anyone but Feliks (and Arthur), plus him asking this quietly meant he already suspected it was a secret and he won't pass it on. They walked to a park, choose a bench and made themselves comfortable. Quite a few people spent their time here, so she made sure to keep her voice down.
'So… you know the looks Russia sometimes gave me, right?' Poland nodded, with an irritated face- of course he did, and didn't like them more than he liked the ones his large-grown relative shot to Toris. 'That's one side of the story. Another one is… remember the London summit? I arrived the afternoon before…'
And she told the part of the story her best friend didn't know, sometimes stopping and her face slowly beginning to put a tomato to shame. She had to admit, she left some gaps; not because she didn't trust her friend, but because she didn't quite always feel she would find the proper words. Although it happened nearly a month ago, it was kept well hidden, like an exceptionally precious secret between her and Arthur. There were moments, though, when she felt as already Shakespeare wrote it, torn between guarding the treasure and letting everyone know of and share her happiness.
'So, we knew we had to do something about Russia, and, since America was already in love with him, I thought, why not be their matchmaker? When he heard of Francis's revenge, he invited me over to Moscow…'
'Tell me you didn't accept it…' he moaned. 'That guy is totally unpredictable, we all know it!'
'What could I do? I didn't agree to it right then, though- I waited for about two weeks.'
'Wha… That's December! You went to Moscow in the middle of winter?!'
'I realized my fatal error as soon as we were out of the airport… But we sat in a bar, I had tea and he had… the usual. Then he suddenly asked if I wanted to play chess, adding that we could bet on it, just for suspense.'
'Oh no, that doesn't look good… But there was no denying then, was there?'
'Exactly. So, he says: "If I win, I have Balaton for 24 hours…"'
'WHAT?!'
She hushed him, as people were turning towards their direction.
'I know it's outrageous, but he was overly certain he would win.'
'He did always beat you in chess…'
'He was foolish enough at the bet- if I won, he said he'd go and date anyone who comes into my mind!' she grinned, trying hard to suppress her laugh. Feliks's shoulders were shaking as well.
'Now I understand! So you won!' he said, wiping off the tears that were induced by the force he restrained his own fit of laughter with, after finally calming down. Then his face grew solemn: 'Let's just hope that America won't find out.'
'He will… one day or other. Secrets like that tend to be hard to keep.' she sighed. 'What I hope is that they won't break up because of it- if they do, I'll have to look for a really secure hideout from Russia…' Elizaveta even managed a little laugh, although it was shaky and of the kind that said: "I don't know if I should laugh at the absurdity of it or cry…"
'If he dares to cross any of his borders, I'll totally use it to my advantage and his capital will be WARSAW!'
A normal giggle showed that he succeeded in lightening her mood.
'That's what I like in you- you always cheer me up.'
'I could say the same… but that's what friends are for, right?'
She nodded. It was true that they mutually gave each other hope or help and consoled one another when needed, and it indeed did come naturally: nothing changed when they found out she was a girl, unlike with the other ones she knew at that time, like Gilbert or Roderich.
They chatted along for a while more then headed towards their respective hotels to grab their luggage and catch a plane towards home. Feliks prayed for things to go well for Hungary, while she asked for… she didn't know what. There were loads of things she wanted, like her bosses to leave her alone (ever since her "accident" in Paris, they always kept an eye on her, and she was fairly certain that she received a 3-hours-long rant when they first met in person. Of course she couldn't be sure- she didn't dare to check her wristwatch or cell phone), and for a chance of meeting England privately (as if she would have the free time for that…), and last but not least, for Russia to stay with America as long… and as far away from her as he can.
AN
Well! I managed to include Poland! As you might see, I didn't use his Valley Girl accent too often, because it seemed unspeakably out of place here… And neither did I use Russia's verbal ticks when he spoke. I don't have anything against them when I read them… but as I write, they seem to break the coherence, or the fluidity of the text. I write as it comes, you know, and these verbal ticks are just… absent from it. I hope you don't mind much… :S But I did put in the Warsaw-sentence, so that he could cheer her up :D
Oh yes, as I wrote her feelings, I just couldn't resist Shakespeare… it's the 75th Sonnet; "So are you to my thoughts as food to life…" that's how it begins in original. It might sound cliché, but… it fitted this situation.
About chibi-Roderich: he himself admitted he was beaten by Hun-chan (52 times, but who counts…XD), so they did know each other already then. Weirdly, mostly only Gilbert is mentioned as someone she's known since her childhood, or Poland.
And the last sentence… if you don't know the film/musical "Fiddler on the roof", there's a scene where the Jews living in the Russian Empire (today, it would belong to Ukraine, I guess; they hint it's not too far from Kiev) ask the Rabbi if there is a proper blessing for the tsar. In the English version, he says: "Oh, Lord, keep the Tsar… far away from us!" The Hungarian sentence translates to: "Keep, Oh, God, the keep Tsar, the longer… and the further the better!" ("Tartsd meg, Isten, a cárt, minél tovább… és minél távolabb!")