I hate grammer.

I write these chapters in like 2 hours and I don't have a Beta to check my work. (Not that I'm not eligible, just didn't want one…)

So if I spell things wrong or miss punctuation, please notify me.

This chapter is so fucking fluffy…

Songs (depending on what mood u wanna read with- if you even read with these things)

'Happiness' by the Fray

'Middle of Nowhere' by Hot Hot Heat

or

'So Contagious' by Acceptance

"It itches~!" Alfred whined.

"Nyet!" Ivan snapped, slapping the shorter man's hand away from his face. "Do not scratch it!"

"Hurrrggghh…" America groaned.

"It vas your idea to go to Jackson Park."

"Bug bitessss…."

"Leave it!"

"Ah…it's bleeding…" Alfred said in wonder.

"Rлупый Aмериканский…" Ivan muttered, shaking his head in shame.

The two were seated on a bridge in the Osaka Garden in Jackson Park, Chicago, legs hanging over the side. Alfred had already bought them food…again. He was currently working on a salted pretzel and some ice cream he'd gotten from a street vendor.

Ivan just propped his arms on a wooden brace and stared across the water at the Museum of Science and Industry. It was astounding how many buildings in America were built off that Greek and Roman style. Just another way Alfred was like that old Rome guy.

Alfred glanced over at the Russian man as a small family passed over the bridge behind them. The American laughed. "Hey, Ruski…"

Ivan turned and made eye-contact. "Vhat?"

"If ya didn't have an accent, I'd think you were American~!" he laughed.

"Are you mocking me?"

Alfred snorted. "How could that be mocking? Hell, that's a compliment!" he said, playing with the sleeve of Ivan's thin, red hoodie. "You look nice…normal."

Ivan just shrugged and put his chin against the railing. "Vhere are we going next?"

Alfred bunched up the paper wrapping from his pretzel and pulled his legs up over the side of the bridge. "Hm…" he said, thinking. "It'll be getting late soon. We should go play some baseball…" Ivan looked over at Alfred. "You like baseball, right? All the little immigrants that would come over from the Soviet Union used to be obsessed with it…they would run off with the balls when someone hit a home run…and we could never finish our games…they would steal them all…"

Ivan just shrugged. "Alright. But, after dat, ve should go to Buckingham Fountain. I've always vanted to see the light show."

Alfred suddenly spat in his hand. "Deal?" he said, holding it out.

Ivan stared at him, disgusted.

The American looked down at his hand and back and the Russian. "Oh…it's a spit-shake. You spit in your hand then shake it…"

Ivan got to his feet and walked off.

"Nevermind then…" Alfred muttered, standing and trailing after the taller nation. It was really weird for the American to be seeing Ivan without his scarf. It had been a long time since he had…and the last time that he had…nevermind.

Maybe they should try and patch their relationship… Alfred considered this as they walked in silence. Ivan hadn't been a total bitch to be around since the last launch. Maybe he was ready to apologize for Stalin and the Cuban Missile Crisis…

And besides, Russia's economy had only gotten better over the past few years as everyone else's had declined…drastically… Russia would make a strong ally.

So…that decided it! At least, in Alfred's mind it did. They would become friends-

Again.

Suddenly, someone plowed into Alfred and knocked him to the ground. He landed on roughly on his tailbone.

Ivan turned, hearing the loud thump. A small child had run full-force into Alfred who was now laughing hysterically. He patted the kids head as the little boy stuttered apologies. A long white string had wrapped around his arms and head. Alfred sighed and began untangling the boy. "Where'd you get this kite?" Alfred wondered.

The little boy just pointed behind himself at a street stand where a Vietnamese woman was selling kites. Alfred ruffled the boy's hair and lifted the kid up out of his lap. The kid scampered away as quickly as he legs would take him.

Ivan sighed and walked over to help the American up. He held out a hand, but Alfred just shoved it away and brushed himself off indignantly. "Let's fly some fucking kites…" he said, dead serious.

Ivan just quirked an eyebrow as the American ran off to buy kites. What was wrong with him? Was he always this…peppy…?

Alfred returned and handed off a blue kite to the Russian. "I trust you know how to use this?" he said, grinning.

"Da…kites vere invented in China…after all," Ivan said, nodding.

…

Two hours later.

…

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Alfred panted, collapsing under the shade of a tall birch tree.

Ivan followed suit, arms straight out, falling backwards into the grass. It wasn't nearly as soft as snow, but it was fine.

Alfred had run around the park three or four times, trying to catch the wind just right. Ivan just stood in the same spot and slowly let the wind pick up around him and take the kite up effortlessly. He laughed at the American's struggling. But, he seemed to be enjoying himself, so Ivan didn't pick on it.

Now, Alfred was out of breath, and Ivan was highly amused. Whoever said the American was a boring host?

"Hey…Ruski?" Alfred breathed.

"Da?"

"Why do ya think that little boy ran off earlier…? He was being really…timid and polite…and…jumpy…"

"Ah, yes, your people are usually obnoxious and rude, da?"

Alfred punched the taller man's arm seriously. "No man…really?"

Ivan turned and looked at the American. "Vell…it could have something to do with your face…"

"Oh no we are not going here again. I'll sock you in the jaw again!" he said, holding up his fist.

Ivan laughed. "Nyet…no…you are covered in mosquito bites…you picked a few apart so you had scabs…"

Alfred's hand strayed to his face. "R-really…it's that scary-looking?"

Ivan smiled. "Da. I told you not to pick at them. Now, it just looks like you have leprosy."

Alfred landed another rough punch on the Russian. "Shut up! No one would ever be afraid of me!" he shouted. The last thing he wanted to hear was that people were afraid of him. He never wanted anyone to have to fear him…not again…

Ivan stared at him seriously. "I would be."

Alfred glared harder. Another thing he didn't want to hear. Twenty years ago, he hated Ivan so much. He wanted to kill him each and every time they were in the same room…or within fifty feet of each other.

But he wanted to fix all that. He never wanted the USSR to fear America. He never wanted to be feared as the bad guy.

Ivan was silent. He fiddled with the hood of the jacket. "Are you happy that I would fear you?"

Alfred's fists curled up tightly into his palms. "Fuck you…"

"Because personally, I vould be ecstatic," Ivan mused, sitting up against the tree.

"You're a fucking communist!"

"Nyet, I'm not anymore. I take it that you do not like being feared?"

"Damn you…so hard…I hate you so much…"

"You should…enjoy being feared that is" Ivan pushed. "It helps you hold your place in the vorld…"

"And why would you want me to? After everything…I thought you'd want me dead…right?" Alfred said, turning away angrily. "If I lost my place in the world, you'd be happy!"

Something about that started an angry knot in the bottom of Ivan's stomach. "Cмотреть y меня!" he shouted. Alfred looked up at him again. "I am happier now than I ever vas vhen I vas the Soviet Union…!"

"Well, the Cold War was no cup of tea for me either! Fuck, I'm talking like England!" the American shouted, rubbing his hands across his face. "Why do you piss me off so easily?"

Ivan grabbed the American's wrists, "Stop shouting!" he yelled. "People are going to start vatching!"

"You fucking started it!"

"Because you- …Augh!" he groaned. "Посхѕол тѕ! Hеблагодарный oтродье!"

Alfred kicked the Russian in the ankles. Earning some cheers from the small crowd of people who had gathered to watch. Alfred grinned; leave it to Americans to egg on a fight. "I know Russian curse words ya fucker!" he shouted.

"Good!" Ivan snapped. He was glad Alfred understood the insult.

"I am not a brat!"

"Anyone who could be unhappy in your position is a brat!"

"How? How do I got it good?" Alfred demanded, his southern accent peeking through in his anger. "I've gotta be the role model! I've gotta do what's right all. the. time!" he said, getting to his feet completely now. "How do you think that feels?"

"At least you have always felt secure! At least you never had to fend off Mongols or stubby French generals!"

Alfred almost laughed at the description of Napoleon, but he was too pissed to laugh right now. "Why would you care about my past? You hate me, remember! We've hated each other since 1945!"

Some of the crowd started walking away; this argument was getting too confusing for them.

"Nyet! You shouldn't care vhat others think of you. Just fight for your own survival! I don't hate you! I am simply frustrated that you do not realize the luxury you live in!"

"You're right! I don't see the luxury…cause I'm out there fighting everyone else's wars for them!"

"No one ever asked you to!"

"Bullshit!"

"Vell you don't have to! Even if you are pulled into a war, you can always refuse to fight!"

"I can't do that!"

"Vhy?"

"Cause I'm the fucking hero!" Alfred shouted, once again out of breath.

"Stop acting like you are the only one…"

Alfred just shook his head quietly. Ivan didn't understand. "I don't mean it like that. I just mean that it's my responsibility as a superpower! Why won't you get off my case already! What is it you're trying to get me to say? What is it you want from me?"

"All I want is to know that vhat is mine vill stay mine!"

"That's exactly what I'm aimin for. That's what everyone wants!"

"Then we should help each other," Ivan suggested. If their goal was the same…

"Maybe I will!" Alfred shouted back angrily.

Ivan balled up his fists crossly. "Did we just become Allies?"

"Yup!" Alfred shouted back.

They both paused and looked at each other. The air stayed tense for another second, but Ivan broke it and started giggling. Alfred cracked up as well. "Ah…that's good, I guess," he said.

"Da…you are a strong country. And, this is a world where you can be wiped off the map if you are not strong enough, da?"

Alfred smiled. "Yeah, and your economy is doin good…so…"

Ivan smiled back sweetly. "Da!"

"So…um…what then? Do we like kiss or shake hands or somethin?"

Ivan considered. Kissing would be too awkward. So, he spat in his hand and held it out.

Alfred grinned, relieved. He spat in his hand and they shook on it. "So…um, baseball?" Alfred said awkwardly.

Ivan smiled. "Da…"

…

"Hey-hey, Ruski!" Alfred shouted, catching the ball for the fifth time. Ivan hadn't hit a single throw.

"Vhat is it now, Amerika? Another stupid joke?"

"Ahaha, why was the crappy baseball team so hot?"

"I do not know."

"Cause they had no fans! Ya geddit?" Alfred said, cracking up until he was breathless for the third time that day.

"Da…I understand your pun. Throw the damn ball!"

Alfred did and Ivan missed, yet again. "Hey, Ruski? You wanna just go? This isn't really your game…I won't hold it over ya…" Alfred pleaded. Ivan was being stubborn. He hadn't let the American take a swing with the bat before he had hit at least one ball.

"Nyet! I vill hit dis one!"

"Okay…just…just imagine it's like hockey, only your swinging in the air…"

"It's nothing like that!"

…

About another hour later, the two were walking back from Buckingham Fountain. Ivan had finally hit the ball and it had darted out of the grassy makeshift field they were playing in. Alfred had thrown some pennies in the fountain before leaving. "Does it always light up red white and blue?" Ivan wondered.

Alfred shrugged. "They do different lights on different nights. Guess it's just patriotic for the month…" he said, hailing at taxi. "I've got a brownstone house in Lincoln Park. We can stay there for the night…"

Translations…let's see if I catch them all.

Rлупый Aмериканский – foolish American

Cмотреть y меня! – Look at me!

Посхѕол тѕ! Hеблагодарный oтродье!- Fuck you! Ungrateful brat!

My God that got fluffy…and ended short. But, that's pretty much the two countries' current relationship. We're not at war with each other, so we've got no problem. XD

I'm watchin the old version of Captain America from like the seventies. We REALLY hated Russians...didn't we?

Not only is the bad guy (the Red Mask) a Russian, but he also had polio and became extremely deformed after being given the same procedure that Captain America had (but Captain America came out just fine)...then his daughter was a scary bitch...they both get throw off a massive cliff in Italy...yep.