Russia's pov:

"Russia?"

Russia's eyes shot open, startled out of his sleep. He stared at his waker, silently wishing his eyes would focus.

Why did the sky have two black dots in it?

Wait..

Those were eyes..

Russia shot backwards. He would have been fine if America had just woken him, but he saw absolutely no reason for him to be right in front of his face!

"What are you doing in my office, comrade?" He was aware his voice was way colder than necessary, but he was getting just a bit tired of being caught off guard by the silly little capitalist.. who, by the way, wasn't answering. He just kept staring at him, which definitely wasn't necessary. "America," he said darkly. "I am going to need an answer."

America smiled a little too sweetly. "Falling asleep in your office, huh? I only do that when I'm having boss issues."

Russia felt himself pale. America let out a carefree laugh.

"So spill, commie. I got all day~"

"You have all day, America. Please learn your own language. And I am afraid I am not like you. I am not having 'boss issues'. I am fine. Only tired."

Another laugh. He didn't believe him. "You really think I'm that stupid, don't you?" A weird gleam was working its way into America's eyes.

"Da."

"Well, at least you're being honest this time." He leaned against the wall behind Russia's chair, still managing to be way too freaking close for comfort.

Enough was enough.

He stood, pulling his pipe out of nowhere. In two milliseconds, he had America pinned against the same wall he'd been leaning on, pipe against his throat.

"Perhaps I should kill you now, da? It would save me much trouble. And I would get to have some fun as well~"

Had he been talking to anyone else, they probably would have fainted by now.

Unfortunately, he was talking to America. And America just wasn't like the others.

America started laughing again, the previous gleam was now two beacons, lighting his eyes like murderous torches. "Wanna try it, man? G'ahead," Russia felt a shock of cold metal and realized a knife had materialized in America's hand.

And was now being held under his scarf, gently pressing against his throat.

They stared at each other, at a complete stalemate.

The door burst open, making both of them jump about sixty feet.

"Russia sir! Latvia's being invaded by a French plumber! May I go help him ou-" Lithuania stopped when he saw them, his eyes widening in something like horror.

America and Russia released each other, weapons returning to wherever the hell they came from. They both had to take about five steps back to regain what might be considered a normal distance.

Russia spared a quick glance at America, who, thankfully, was looking at Lithuania at the moment.

Had they really been that close to each other? Even if their aim was murder, Belarus was gonna kill him.

America too.

..Urgh.

.

.

America's pov:

The silence stretched on for what seemed like forever. America looked over at Russia, only to find him having a staring contest with the floor.

How helpful.

Finally, he decided to speak for the asshole. "I don't know what this red freak," He jabbed his thumb in Russia's general direction. "is thinking, but if the Frenchie gets away with what we're all very aware he's gonna try, I'll drop-kick his ass to Albuquerque." Russia looked up at him, blinking. America ignored him. "Latvia doesn't deserve that crap. Go save 'im."

Lithuania gave a small grin and flew out of the room faster than an Aniki-stalking Korea.

Liet was gone.

America and Russia were alone.

Again.

More silence..

More of Russia's staring..

After a few more seconds America turned to him, frustrated. "Blink twice if you're alive."

Russia frowned, though he did blink twice. "Why did you do that, comrade? You hate Soviets. Why protect one?"

America sighed. "Just 'cause I hate someone doesn't mean I won't save them from being raped."

"Would you save me?"

"No."

"Then why save Latvia?"

"He's not an ass."

Russia seemed to accept this. "No, he is not."

America chewed on his lip. "Plus, I'm really not the biggest fan of France. Always saying how uneducated I am, how uncouth, how I couldn't speak French if I tried, how I have no history.. I'd love to kick him in the face some day, but my bosses will never let me. Stupid diplomatic relations.."

"You sound like England."

"Have I mentioned how much I love France? 'Cause I do. You know I do."

Russia looked confused.

.

.

Estonia's pov:

Estonia chuckled as he screwed in the last bolt.

It was done!

Unable to contain his excitement, he jumped up and down like Poland in a new women's clothing store, grinning like a maniac.

Now.

Time to test it.

Out of dark curiosity, he pointed the instrument at himself first.

3%

He was 3% insane.

Estonia sighed. He'd been hoping for something closer to a 0%, but with countries, it was impossible to get a clean slate. It was simple fact: you live that long, you go at least a little crazy.

He crept out of his room, searching for his next "subjects" (victims).

Ukraine: 6%

Lithuania: 2%

Latvia: 17%

Belarus... 100%

Estonia stared at the screen. That was just special.

But where were Russia and America? Those were the two he was most curious about. He decided to try Russia first, thinking he'd be in his room.

He walked down the hall, wondering what the percentage would be. Belarus was 100%, but surely Russia was more insane than her? His invention, as far as he knew, only went up to 100, so what would happen when he turned it on what might be the most psychotic guy on the planet?

He reached the door, but before he could knock, the knob turned and out walked-

A-America? Estonia suppressed a startled cry and dove behind an open door. The taller blond had been looking over his shoulder. Estonia hoped and prayed to the heavens that the supernation hadn't seen him.

Apparently he hadn't. The American gently closed the door behind him and started walking back towards his room. Estonia remembered just in time and pointed his invention at him.

America: ERROR

He frowned and flicked the screen.

America: 3..

358.2%

Estonia stared at his invention. Hard.

He wasn't sure whether to be more terrified of the statistic or just how exactly he'd gotten the statistic.

He glanced back at Russia's door, deciding then and there that he'd get the freak's reading later.

What had America been doing in Russia's room? Was Russia inside? What had.. He'd thought he heard.. maybe before reaching the door.. wh.. THE FUCK HAPPENED?

Estonia cradled his head in his hands.

He needed a drink.

Dammit..

.

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for taking so long with the update. I don't have an excuse this time. I'm just lazy -.-

Quick note for anyone French who is reading this: Sorry. We're rude to you when you're rude to us. Also, about that stereotype you seem to have of Americans, the one where we apparently can't speak French correctly, even if we try? French is the 2nd most learned language in America (next to Mexican Spanish). According to statistics, most American students who follow through with French are able to lose or reduce their accents three times as fast as French students are theirs. Sorry for this rant. I don't mean any offence, but I really am kinda pissed about that stereotype..

No one got what Estonia's invention would be, huh? That's okay! ^^ xPorcelianLipsx won anyway due to something in a later chapter~

Short chapter is short. Sorry about that.

Wiedesehen, mon amies~ I'll try to update more quickly!