Disclaimer: Hetalia's not mine.

Feeling a bit lost, and not a little confused, Russia knocked on the door of the "cell" he had prepared before his prisoner's arrival. "Ah.. America? Are you in there?" He could just open it if he so chose. After all, the door only locked from the outside. "Are you okay?" Maybe lunch had not agreed with him. He did not have the most varied diet in the world, foreign food might give him an upset stomach or something.

"Go away," said America's muffled voice.

So he was in there. And sounded unhappy. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Then let me in."

"No."

Okay, being polite was getting them nowhere. Russia opened the door. "America?"

He was laying back in bed, reading one of the provided comic books, pausing to scowl up at Russia when he barged in. "Do you mind?"

"You're the captive," Russia reminded him. "I can come and go as I please."

America mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that?"

America sat up with an exasperated sigh. "I said that I'm only your captive because none of the others you wanted worked out!"

Russia blinked. "What?"

"You didn't want to kidnap me." He tossed the comic aside. "You wanted anyone. You wanted Canada. I was an afterthought."

Russia stared at him in disbelief. Was he seriously upset about that? "America, that's... you..." What an odd thing. Who got upset about not being the immediate choice for a kidnapping? Though if he were truly unhappy, wouldn't he have just left? Russia would never understand him...

America wasn't answering. Russia didn't want things to stay like this, so he sought desperately for something to say that would fix, or at least improve the situation, but came up blank. "Um." America was retrieving his comic, probably ready to tune him out. Russia blurted the first thing that came to mind. "You were my first and only choice for kidnapping! I just didn't realize it right away."

America paused, eyes roving back up to Russia. "Really?" he said. "Does that even make sense?"

Russia nodded, though he honestly had no idea. "I thought you hated me. That's why I didn't think of you right away. Your brother doesn't, he's always been polite. That's all. If I'd known you didn't hate me, nobody else would have even crossed my mind." Russia had no idea what the hell he was saying. If he'd thought America really genuinely liked him, he might not have tried kidnapping in the first place...

But America seemed placated. What in the world? "Well... okay. Promise you won't capture anybody else?"

"Ah... right. Of course. I promise."

"Okay, good!" America bounded to his feet, as if nothing had happened, leading the way back to the kitchen.

Russia followed, shaking his head in bewilderment. His guest was already diving back into lunch by the time he walked in, only a moment after. "So. We're, ah..." What would America say? "Cool?"

"Right! We're cool now."

"Good." Crisis averted, Russia rejoined him at the table. Mostly done with his own meal, he simply watched America devour his. Where did he put it all? "So..."

"Huh?" America looked up, mouth full.

"So... what would you have done, if this were real?" Russia wasn't sure where the thought had come from, but he suddenly found himself with a strong desire to know.

America's face fell, as did Russia's stomach. Oh no. Crisis back! He shouldn't have asked that.

"If it wasn't real, what was it?" America prodded at a bit of remaining food.

Oh. He had misunderstood. Russia sighed. "Not the food. The situation."

"Ohh!" Much to his relief, America brightened back up, shoveling in another forkful. "You mean, if you had succeeded in unconsciousing me?"

Was that even a word? "Yes, that is what I mean."

"Oh, Idunno..." He shrugged one shoulder. "I guess, if you had actually knocked me out, and I woke up here, unable to leave, locked in that room... I guess I wouldn't be happy about it."

"You would try to escape?"

America rested his chin on one hand, looking amused. "Are you asking me to try and escape?"

"Um." Russia blinked. No, he had just been curious.

Still smiling broadly, America stood. "That was a delightful meal. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to relax in my room.

As he sauntered off, Russia let his head fall into his hands. Great. Now he had to keep his eyes open for America's attempted escape. And if his escape were successful, Russia had a feeling he would never hear the end of it.

"Hmm... What do I want..." Prussia leaned back in his chair, hands folded behind his head and feet propped up on the table before him. "I wouldn't mind being invited to some meetings."

England ran a hand down his face. "What meetings?"

Ruby eyes sparkled with... mischief? Delight? Whatever. "Any that West is invited to. For the next five years."

"No."

Prussia moved to stand, shrugging. "Fine. Doesn't matter much to me if you never get America back. Oh sure, I'll lose a drinking buddy, but I've got others."

The other nations exchanged a look. "Two years," England said.

"Four."

"Three."

"Three and a half."

England rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. Now tell us what you know. And it had better be good, I am perfectly willing to go back on our deal."

"Don't get your eyebrows in a bunch, I'm getting to it." Prussia settled back down in his chair. "So I was hanging out outside when you guys were talking and acting all important-"

"In other words," England said, "you were spying on our meeting."

"Not spying! I was outside, I couldn't hear anything." Prussia huffed. "Do you want to hear the story or not?"

"Get on with it," France said.

"Well, everybody was leaving after the meeting was over. And being as awesome as I am, I hid. To keep an eye on you guys, make sure you left safely."

"Right," Canada muttered.

"I had just gotten out of my hiding place, a little while after everyone had left, when one more person came out of the building. So I hid again." Prussia smirked. "And that person was Russia."

"Yes, we know that Russia was the last to leave," England said. The others nodded.

"He wasn't alone."

"America-san was with him?" Japan said, frowning.

"Russia denied seeing him after the meeting," Canada said.

"Doesn't surprise me," Prussia said, examining the nails of one hand. "America was slung over his shoulder, unconscious."

The other four nations exchanged a worried look. "Do you have proof?" England asked. That sounded a little far fetched. Russia was a bit... odd... but he wasn't a villain. And what would he want America for? England remembered how annoying Italy was as a captive, and couldn't imagine what America would be like.

Prussia gave another unconcerned shrug. "I'm just telling you what I saw. You don't have to believe me. I'm too awesome to lie, though." He grinned. "The rest is up to you."

They watched Prussia saunter out, looking pleased with himself. They wondered what to think about this revelation.

"I think he is lying," Japan said. "He does not like Russia-san, and he is friends with America-san. You would think he would be a bit more..."

"Worried?" Canada said, chewing on his lower lip.

"Right."

"Did Russia sound like he was hiding something?" England said.

Canada paused for a thoughtful moment, and shook his head. "He sounded... well, tired, mostly. I probably woke him up."

"Woke him up?" France mused. "Like he was tired after a long night of doing something... or someone?"

"Oh, shut it, you disgusting creep," England said.

"It was early where he was," Canada said, looking panicked. "I don't think that means he was... er..."

"Well we can't exactly get an army together and storm Moscow without proof," England said.

"If we do," France said, rubbing his stubbled chin, "at least it's summer."

The agitated (and not at all worried, no sir) British nation chose to ignore him. "We just need to find some evidence. Then we can take action. We need a spy." A slow smile crept over his face. "Somebody unnoticeable. Somebody Russia likes and won't treat terribly if he is caught." One by one, the nations turned.

Canada sighed at their expectant faces. "Fine, I'll go."