Opening notes;
First, I do not own "Hetalia." I'm pretty sure that's clear.
Second, this is not my first fanfic, just the first I care to post here.
Third, this is not an accurate representation of actual countries, presidents or armed forces. That's why I don't use the country names much, though it's pretty obvious who everyone is.
There are no pairings in this story, and it's rated T only for minor language. That's pretty much it. Enjoy the story!
Wonderful.
It was the one word that perfectly described the current era. The Soviet Union was growing, and everything around it was dying.
How could this have possibly gone better?
All the super powers of the world had rolled over and died after World War II. They were mere shadows of their former selves, and now… that made Russia the glorious surviving nation, didn't it? The large country hadn't suffered the set backs of the World-Wide Depression after the First World War, and what was a few million military casualties during the second?
Oh yes, Ivan was doing quite well for himself.
However, there was one little thorn in his side… the detestable North American country to the East of him. It was always him, Alfred, that made a mess of his affairs – of all of Europe's affairs; and most recently, had begun to meddle with the Asian nations as well.
Damn them, American assholes,
Khrushchev laughed bitterly to himself, and to Ivan who was seated across from him. They shared the same thoughts in those cold years – 'who was Alfred to try and under mind Soviet superiority?' It was only last year that Khrushchev wrested control of the nation from Malenkov, but he was already taking the job very seriously. He was about as adamant about embarrassing the United States as Ivan himself was.
"Do not worry," The esteemed leader told his country, taking Ivan's hand in his own. "The United States will never over take us in this race; their missiles are not as numerous nor as good as ours. They do not have the intercontinental ballistics we do. If they did, they would have launched their own Sputnik."
Ivan smiled coyly, kissing Khrushchev's hand. "I am not worried."
It was the Sputnik that launched the Space Race. There was no doubt about that. What started as a simple experiment for the International Geophysical Year had turned into one of Russia's most celebrated events – and America's frantic scramble to catch up. 'The poor soul, he's so far behind,' Ivan thought to himself, grinning like a fool as he observed Alfred's rushed projects from the comfort of his home. DARPA, NASA, SCORE, Explorer… in the Russian's eyes, they were all flimsy attempts to make the US look like it was holding up against the Soviets. Like it was better…
"Ivan…" a soft voice called from behind the Communist super power. Ivan didn't respond at first, but after a moment he turned to his favorite occupied nation.
"Toris…" Ivan purred, propping himself up on one elbow. "…what can I do for you?"
Toris, a former superpower himself, was well aware of the front Ivan was putting on. He was smirking like a fat cat, which was never good. Not to mention it was just blasphemous to speak to Ivan without first being spoken to…
"Ahm…" The Baltic state started, averting his gaze. "You have a phone call…"
Ivan quirked an eyebrow, it was most unusual for anyone to call him. Then again, he could easily guess who it was on the other line. The Soviet nodded, but continued to stare at Toris' delightfully troubled face. The only thing that could've made the whole thing better was if Raivis and Eduard had accompanied him – with the same expression, of course. The brunette lingered for a minute, before deciding it was best to depart – quickly. Toris bid his goodbye and left the room, leaving Ivan to tend to his phone call.
As he guessed, the caller was…
"Yo, USSR!" The annoyingly smug voiced shouted in Ivan's ear as he picked up the receiver. Alfred leaned against the railing of one of his now numerous laboratories dedicated to space exploration. Advancements in the United States were going very well, and Alfred felt the need to gloat. Unlike most of the other countries of the world, he did not fear Ivan – so he felt confident in bragging. Not to mention it helped when said largest country on the planet wasn't face-to-face with you.
"I'm sure you've heard about all our projects by now, right? How does it feel ya Commie bastard? Does it taste like your own medicine!" Alfred laughed, and from Ivan's end, it also sounded like he had paused to take a bite out of something. How rude, eating while on the telephone…
"What's that, Alfryeda? It sounds like you haven't quite got your facts in line…" Ivan responded, twirling the telephone cord around his finger. Before Alfred had a chance to rebuke him (and probably get hamburger remains all over his glorious American phone), Ivan continued.
"Hehehe, did you forget? Sputnik-3 was the first to detect the Van Allen belt."
Well, that ruined one of Alfred's arguments. He pouted, finishing off his burger in one mighty gulp. He defended his beloved first satellite regardless.
"Explorer-1 was the first, or did you forget that your Communist recorder failed?"
"Ha… ha… ha… technicalities don't count, dear Amerika."
"It's not offic-"
"Cape... Canaveral's... disaster."
Oh no, He did NOT just go there. Ivan chuckled to himself. He could practically hear Alfred's mounting frustration. Was it too early to be reminded of such embarrassing failures? Alfred prevented an irritated sigh from leaving his mouth, and in the meantime forced a heroic grin onto his face – although Ivan couldn't see it.
"You will wipe that stupid smile off your face, won't you?" Ivan giggled. Obviously Alfred had forgotten that Alaska was no longer a part of Russia – but of his own America. And Ivan could see the blonde from his house. Alfred turned a beat red, suddenly finding himself in the cold, new state. He glared lightly at his neighbor, who waved innocently to him from the Soviet Union.
"The Vanguard-1," Alfred said, not bothering to return to Washington although his Boss would probably wonder why he'd left so suddenly. Alfred's grin had faltered, but it had regained its strength – and now the democratic nation found himself beaming. He had known Ivan was there, but had never thought he was this close. It made him a little nervous… He should really visit his newest state more often.
"Vanguard-1 is powered with solar energy. It's up there right now soakin' in the suns rays." Alfred confirmed, having hung up his phone back at the NASA headquarters in favor of just shouting across the Bering Straight. Ivan had done the same, throwing open his wide windows and hanging out of them. 'Pretty hard to beat that, huh!' Alfred thought, crossing his arms proudly as Ivan seemed to think up a rebuttal.
Unfortunately, he did.
"Hm. Sputnik-2… the first living creature in orbit… and the first death in space," Ivan said smoothly, his face twisting into a demented smile as he imagined the dog up there, inside his satellite. He stared across the snowy landscape at his rival, wondering if it suffocated or starved to death. "And that was last year."
Alfred scoffed. He turned his back on Ivan, giving him an exaggerated shrug.
"That's nothing to be proud of. It's not even heroic, it's sick." He didn't bother to tell Ivan about how well Project SCORE was going, or about his other plans. Alfred would let Ivan win this argument, but the next time they met, it would be a much different outcome.
Ivan smiled at Alfred's back. He watched the blonde's aviator jacket flap in the sudden gust of wind. At that time, the number on the leather was "49."
"Korosho dyen', Alfryeda!" Ivan called merrily as Alfred walked away, knowing how much the nation hated the way his name sounded in Russian. "I rather miss Laika, don't you?"
Author's Notes: Please leave a review, or you won't get to learn about space! *shot*
The next chapter will not be in this format. If you noticed, this chapter and the first one are rather similar looking - that was on purpose.
Rough translation of Russian;
1.) Хороший день, Альфред! = "Good day, Alfred!"