Ivan stared absently out the window, sipping from his flask of vodka. He stopped diluting it with coffee a little while after Alfred left. The flask was growing steadily lighter, he noticed, and his thoughts were beginning to feel just a little fuzzy. That made him happy. He didn't want lucid sobriety. He wanted illogical, crazy, insane drunkenness to take hold and make him have an excuse for doing anything to Alfred later.

The door burst open and America stomped in, a cup of coffee in his hand. There was a smudge of chocolate on his lip. Ivan looked at him and raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. The younger nation stomped past his vanmate.

"Get in the front," he said. "We're driving to the next camping spot."

"Alright." Ivan stood up and stretched, not putting his vodka down. Alfred turned to watch, against his will, the way Ivan's muscles stretched the fabric of his shirt, pulling it up to reveal an inch or two of smooth, pale skin. He shook himself and looked away. I think he knows how damn distracting that is when he does that.

Ivan seemed to sense Alfred's irritation and smirked. "Well, my dear, would you care to get the map out? I can barely remember the names of the places we are headed to."

"Whatever." Alfred opened the door to the driving part of the trailer and stopped. "Hey, shouldn't you get the maps? I'm driving, right?"

Ivan's eyes widened innocently. "Нет, I thought I would be doing that."

"Well, you aren't. I'm driving."

"Aren't you too young?"

"Hey, automobiles were invented in me!"

"Actually, the first one was created in Germany."

"… Well, I have fucking Henry Ford!"

Ivan rolled his eyes. This was just so childish. He took another comforting swig of vodka. Alfred noticed.

"Hey, you're drinking! You can't drive!"

Ivan tossed the flask away. It landed in Alfred's bunk, knocking over a bobblehead of some man holding a baseball bat.

"I am not."

"You just. Fucking. Were." Alfred gritted his teeth. This was so annoying! He was very, very tempted to nuke the commie right then and there.

"Well, now I am not."

"How much vodka did you have?"

"Not much."

"By your standards or mine?"

"What are 'your standards'? Vodka is vodka. You cannot change its effects."

Alfred was furious at this point. "Ya know what, commie? You can just shut the fuck up right now. I fucking swear I will nuke you if you don't shut up right now and let me DRIVE THE GODDAMNED CAR!" he finished in a shriek.

Ivan raised his eyebrows. "Temper, temper, dear America…"

"SHUT UP!" Alfred threw himself at the Russian, kicking and punching for all he was worth. It didn't have much effect on Russia, who had survived every single invasion he'd taken to date. Even France had only gotten as far as Moscow, and Germany had been invaded and half-slaughtered right back.

After a few moments of Alfred's uncoordinated lashing, Ivan grasped the back of his rival's shirt and removed him carefully from his body. The American scratched at Ivan's hand until he let go, not unwillingly. Alfred crossed his arms over his chest and glared through his glasses. This would have been intimidating to most other countries. Despite how childish America appeared to be, he still was one of the few superpowers of the world. His eyes burned radioactively bright, symbolizing that weapon that quailed every other nation.

Except for the one standing across from him.

Ivan smiled kindly and extended a hand. He placed a fingertip delicately on the sleeve of Alfred's coat. Smoke began rising from beneath his glove. America recognized the smell. Nuclear power. He didn't flinch.

They were each as insane as the other.

Alfred's smile mirrored Ivan's.

Matthew was cheerful. A night with Gilbert had pushed all his worries to the back of his mind, and he was back to doing one of his favorite things in the world, next to hockey. He loved organizing events, and he was especially proud of this CART. What better way to let nations bond after wartime than bringing them on a road trip? The landscape was lovely, the people were nice… Now I'm being a narcissist.

There was a clattering from behind him, and he realized Prussia was waking up. Without taking his eyes off the road, he wished his lover a good morning.

"You too, Mattie." Gilbert walked up and ruffled Canada's hair. He twitched away.

"Gil!" he protested good-naturedly. "I'm trying to drive!"

Smirking, Gilbert collapsed in the passenger's seat. He peered out the windshield. "Ya know I've never done this before. Where're we going?"

"Some campgrounds, to spend the night. It's near a town, so we can get food, socialize with humans…"

"Oh." Gilbert nodded. After a moment, he turned to Matthew with a grin. "So, you ready to invade some vital campgrounds?"

There was a long silence before Gilbert realized his mistake.

"I-I just meant campgrounds! Campgrounds! Not—not 'vital' anything!"

Matthew nodded, hiding his smile. "Of course."

Wow, this one came up quickly. Well, it's a pretty short chapter. And I had more time to work on it, thanks to a pretty nasty head cold that got me out of school early today.

Also, Gil's Freudian slip is based off one of my own. Please review!