Story Eleven

In which Ivan kidnaps Amelia, but she really doesn't mind so much


Russia had really, really meant to be a bit more brutal in this kidnapping, but it was kind of hard to kidnap someone who was pretty on board with the whole idea.

Maybe it would have gone according to plan if America hadn't spotted him in the reflection of the window. She had been at home, staring out the window and smiling as she watched hummingbirds sipping sugar water from her feeders. Summer really was the best season, and naturally there was no better country to enjoy summer in than the good old U.S. of A!

Russia, meanwhile, had meant to break into America's house and steal her away back to Moscow, where he would then torture her and force her submission to his indomitable will. The world would soon know that Russia was a true force to be reckoned with, a force strong enough to bring someone as powerful as America to her knees!

It was a simple cloth and chloroform thing. All he had to do was sneak up behind her, knock her out, drag her back, throw her in a cell and torture her for a few weeks, maybe months. Maybe she'd even eventually develop Stockholm syndrome and then she wouldn't even want to leave.

Yes. His plan simply had to work. It had to!

He was successful in breaking in despite her stellar security systems and was tip-toeing up behind her when America spied him in her window. Before Russia could even think of pressing the cloth against her nose, America had whirled around and, in a few simple shoves and kicks, she had knocked Russia flat on his ass and was poised to kick his teeth in.

Luckily, she stopped mid-kick and gaped at him before she threw her head back and laughed. "Jeez, I thought you were a burglar or something! What the hell are ya doin'?!"

Russia sighed in defeat as America actually helped him up. He then watched as she spied the cloth and frowned, the dots connecting in her brain.

"Were you going to knock me out or something?" she asked. Russia nodded forlornly, too depressed to even try to lie, and America let out a low whistle. "Well sheee-oot. Were you gonna kidnap me?"

"Da, I was. But this plan was an utter failure." Russia turned and began to slowly drag his feet to the door. "My apologies for bothering you. Have a nice day, Amerika."

"Where the hell are you going?!" America grabbed his arm and yanked him back. "You're not even going to try again?!"

Unsure if he heard her right, Russia paused and then stared at her for a few long moments. "…What?"

"You're real quick to give up on a dream!" America sighed and shook her head like she was disappointed in him. "Personally, I would have done a sort of caveman style knock-out. Just a simple smack over the head and it's lights out!"

"…Are you asking me to club you over the head, Amelia?"

"Dammit! I have to do everything in this kidnapping, don't I?!" America then, to Russia's utter confused fascination, grabbed her baseball bat and hit herself over the head with it, albeit not hard enough to black out. Instead, she comically threw herself to the ground and just sort of laid there, all limp. Russia even saw her open an eye to see if he was going to drag her off anytime in the near future; once she realized he was watching her, she quickly closed her eye and feigned being out cold again.

Deciding not to waste such an ample opportunity, Russia snatched America up and hurried out of her house toward the nondescript black car waiting outside. Russia had convinced Lithuania into driving it with his wonderful coercion skills (i.e. via threatening to beat him mercilessly with his metal pipe) and quickly got into the backseat with America, who was still as limp as an overcooked noodle.

"Y-you actually did it!" Lithuania stared at them in shock in the rearview mirror until Russia snapped his fingers impatiently.

"Drive!"

And they were off.


This was not as satisfying as Russia had intended it to be. His dreams involved America cowering in fear, America sobbing in defeat, America on her knees. Instead, she was lounging on his bed, munching on a bag of chips and watching a rerun of Seinfeld.

"So who's your favorite?" America was asking, chewing loudly and no doubt getting crumbs all over Russia's duvet. "I like George. You seem like a Kramer guy."

Russia was sulking at the foot of his bed, unable to even try to be threatening at this point. All his attempts had been futile. He'd tried to smack her with his magic pipe of pain and America had assumed he'd wanted to play baseball and kept "accidentally" hitting him in the nuts with a ball while they played catch. Then he had tried to strangle her and America had assumed he'd wanted to play wrestle and had managed to pin him to the ground and make him say "uncle". And then he'd attempted to lock her in a cell in his basement, but America had laughed so hard she started crying because she thought it was a "funny prank" and then proceeded to break out of the cell after quoting the hell out of Orange is the New Black. And then Russia had decided to attempt to molest her but she thought he was trying to tickle her and declared a tickle war, which was probably the worst thing Russia had ever been subjected to in his life. At this point, he had simply give up.

The real problem now was going to be getting America to leave his place. She hadn't even tried to escape once. Not a single attempt. Clearly she had no qualms about loitering around his home, eating his food and watching his television without having to lift a single finger to do any work. If he wasn't mistaken, this was certainly no kidnapping. This was a damn vacation.

"No opinion, huh?" America asked once Russia didn't reply as he was too busy sulking about America being impossible to terrorize. "Woah, you look like someone just kicked your dog."

Russia sighed and stood up from where he had been sitting at the end of his bed and looked at America. "I think it's time you should probably go home. Isn't your boss wondering where you are? Or your friends? Don't you think they're worried about you?"

"What? Dude, this is a kidnapping. No one's supposed to know where I am! Duh!" America moved closer to him, setting her bag of chips down so she could give him a smack on the forehead.

Russia was even more frustrated than before and was definitely annoyed with the forehead smack. "To be honest, Amelia, this doesn't feel like a kidnapping. This feels like you are, how do you say it… slumming around at my place, da?"

"You want this to feel more authentic?" America nodded in understanding. "Sorry. How selfish of me! I was just having so much fun! Here."

With that, America ran off the bed after ripping his blankets off of his mattress, threw the door open and turned to glare at him over her shoulder, posing heroically, the covers trailing behind her like a cape.

"I'm going to escape!" Her voice was loud and booming off the walls. Russia's mouth fell open as she then fled the room.

Russia's reaction was like that of a cat spying a laser pointer. He sprung off his bed and raced after her, finding her at the end of the hallway with the window thrown open wide and frantically tying his blankets together into some kind of makeshift rope so she could climb out the window (despite the fact that they were still on the first floor of his house, but Russia appreciated the effort).

"No!" America abandoned the blankets and raced off in a different direction—to the front entrance. Russia hurried after her and found her just as she was flinging the door open. "HAHAHA! WHAT A FOOL! I'M HOME FREE! I'M ON TOP OF THE WORLD! I'M—"

Russia quickly tackled her, dragged her back inside and then shut the door and locked it. America pouted underneath him.

"Ah, phooey. Guess that didn't work. Oh well!" With that, she waited for Russia to get up and bring her to her feet before he redirected them both to the living room. "Hey, can we have pizza tonight?"

As she was ordering fifty large pizzas with all the fixings, Russia realized he had just blown his big chance to let her escape. Boy, did he sure feel like an idiot.


"I CAN'T TAKE THIS!"

America jumped from where she sat, gaping as Russia suddenly leapt off the sofa and turned to glare at her. They had been watching seven hours of The Twilight Zone in total peace and America had been on her fifteenth bag of chips when Russia had very suddenly decided to flip shit on her for no good reason!

"Woah, woah, woah! Dude! Indoor voices!"

Russia ignored that and pointed at her furiously. "YOU. LEAVE. NOW."

"Awww, what?!" America pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't wanna!"

"I don't care what you want!" Russia quickly grabbed her off the sofa and began to drag her towards his front door. "This is a kidnapping! MY kidnapping! And if I say you have to leave, you LEAVE!"

"Noooooo—"

"DA! YOU GO NOW!" Russia flung the door open and attempted to shove her out, but America dug her heels into the floor and shook her head frantically.

"You can't make me! I'm a free citizen! I do what I want!" America quickly squirmed out of his grip and then raced off into the recesses of Russia's massive house. "YOU CAN'T CATCH ME, RUSKI!"

Russia quickly raced after her, following her from room to room until he managed to corner her in one of the guest rooms. America pouted as he grabbed her forearms and attempted to once more kick her out.

"You can bet I'm going on Better Business Bureau to let them know what sort of terrible treatment I've just received!" America ranted. "See if you get any tourists after this little stunt!"

Russia managed to get her back to his doorway and was attempting to push her out of his house. She had her arms and legs braced on the doorframe, however, and was attempting to get back inside.

"GO!"

"NO!"

"GO AWAY!"

"NEVER!"

"GET OUT!"

Suddenly America twisted in his arms and batted her eyelashes, her tone becoming what could only be described as 'smoldering'.

"There's nothing I can do to convince you to let me stay?"

Russia paused and blinked, quite taken with how dark her blue eyes had just become. Was America propositioning sex? Because if so, count him in 100%.

Once his arms were lax enough, America coaxed them both back into his place and kicked the door shut behind her. Playing with the buttons on his coat, she nuzzled his chin as she began to guide them further into the house.

"Well that got your attention, da?" she purred. She had moved on from the buttons of his coat to play with his hair.

"Uh… da."

America rolled onto her tip-toes until her lips just barely brushed his. A spark of electricity ran through Russia's body at the small contact as he tightened his grip on her, any plans to kick her out now so far out of his mind that it was like they'd never been there at all. His body was warming up fast and apparently America was just as impatient as he was to get this show on the road because she suddenly attacked his mouth, gripping his hair tightly to keep him in place.

Russia groaned, lifting her up off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist and opened her mouth, allowing Russia to eagerly shove his tongue down her throat. America made a few happy noises as one of her hands moved south and attempted to finagle with the buttons of his coat.

They managed to stumble back to Russia's sofa, their kisses getting deeper and Russia getting seriously warmer and more eager to start to get rid of clothing when his front door flew open to reveal a very angry British man.

"There you are!" England stomped forward as Russia and America looked at him, annoyed and angry at his cockblocking. "For God's sake, would you two get away from each other?! Amelia, get your bloody arse back home!"

"No!"

"Did you just say 'no' to me?!" England's voice became incredibly parental and Russia could feel America shrink a bit underneath him. "Get up. You can't just skip out on work because you want to make out with some delinquent vodka-addict!"

"Take that back!" America snapped, climbing out from under Russia to point at England angrily. "He has a name!"

"Well, isn't that nice?" England quickly took America's arm and began to lead her to the door, America sulking the whole way. "I swear, someone takes their eyes off you for two minutes and you're off gallivanting with the nearest hooligan you can find!"

"Whatever."

"Don't you 'whatever' me!" England opened the door. "Say goodbye to Russia! You're going home! You have work to do!"

"You're ruining my life!"

"So be it!"

America turned and pouted, giving Russia an apologetic look. "Sorry my stupid brother is a lameass. I'll see ya."

Russia sat there, gaping and half-hard, as the two left his house. Immediately his home fell into total silence save for The Twilight Zone playing in the background.

How on Earth had England managed to force America to leave just by demanding she do so? It must've been a family thing. Russia began to clean America's mess and was a bit confused when he was slightly disappointed that she was gone.


Two nights later, someone snuck into Russia's bedroom through a window he was sure he had locked. He woke up to find America tying him up with some rope.

"Oh, hey." She wiggled her eyebrows at him. "I'm kidnapping you. I called ahead to see if you were busy and I cleared your schedule for, like, the next week. Oh, it's pretty warm at my place right now, hope you don't mind."

Russia blinked, surprised, and then smiled as America continued to tie him up, suddenly very eager to be kidnapped.


Author Notes:

Wassup? You know how there are tons of fics where Russia kidnaps America and then tortures him and America suffers and becomes the shell of a man he once was? I thought this whole scenario would be much more humorous if, say, America just went along with it and slummed around at Russia's place like she was vacationing and all of Russia's attempts to torment her were thwarted in a typical America-like way. So here this is.

-Ugh, I just finished a fic that promised me RusAme and but it turned into RusPrus at the end, which was a really nasty surprise. Normally I'm cool with other ships, really, I am. For example, I ship SuFin, but if you were to tell me, "I actually prefer DenSu", I wouldn't freak out at all. I'd probably say, "Yeah, I can see where you'd ship that." But for some reason, the specific pairing of RusPrus really does me in and I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because I ship RusAme so much? But I don't get furious about RoChu... so... I don't know. I just really hate that pairing. So I wrote this to cheer myself up because I got sucker punched. So you guys get to reap the rewards, I suppose.

-This was originally going to be a chapter in Ain't No Rest for the Wicked with Russia and Belarus kidnapping America, who thought they just wanted to hang out, while Denmark and Prussia panic and try to break her out of there and end up having to get Canada to get in there and smuggle her out using his special brand of Alberta Beef badassery. I might still write that chapter for that story anyway as I actually had someone request it, and this was so much fun to write I don't mind doing something similar again, that's for sure.

-I love how many of you guys knew the Emperor's New Groove reference in there. I laughed so hard at all that I KNEW IT comments! You guys rock, for real. Also I had someone request a chapter where we see Russia reacting to 9/11, since they were the first ones to respond. Not a bad idea at all! We could use a more feelings-ish chapter in here, I think, to make their relationship a little more serious. And IrishMaid, I didn't respond to your one idea before, but I LOVE the idea of switching this Amelia out with Ain't No Rest for the Wicked's Amelia! Ah! That's gonna be a tricky chapter to write, but I will try! Oh, Russia's in for it. Other Amelia's gonna DESTROY him, good Lord.

Hope you guys enjoyed and thank you so much for your reviews! Ta-ta for now!