Disclaimer: Hidekaz Himaruya owns Hetalia and its characters.
Acknowledgements: Thank you to all those who have reviewed, alerted, favourited: Xou, alexf801, chattie98, Myrna Maeve (and Romania!), ThatPurplyThing, Forever Halfa, WinterLake 25, Frustration, Ankhasia Riddle, Kitty the Dinosquirrel, envysfangirl, PikoPiko-Chan, Silver FoxWolf, citrine sunflower, Canyon's Rose, chickenkitty, ZeroLuver567, Lady Sandra of Sealand, Tamarutaca, 101Icestormxx, Vengeful Cat and all my anonymous readers.
Warnings: sexual innuendo, Pru-Den, PolxLiet
Chapter 12 – Modern Girl
Tuesday pm
"Pregnancy tests... pregnancy tests... where are the pregnancy tests?" Latvia muttered as she wandered through the large pharmacy, pretending that the two blond men following her were not with her.
"Aisle Three, madam," a random attendant replied, looking Latvia up and down.
"Thank-you," Latvia said gratefully, crossing to said aisle.
"Kesese! Raivis is buying condoms!" Prussia decided to shout (Latvia had told him to call her by her human name while in public in order not to arouse suspicion, which Prussia surprisingly agreed to do. This compliancy may have been something to do with the various threats of disembowelment that Latvia issued every few minutes...)
"Sod off, Gilbert!" Latvia hissed, looking for the cheapest pregnancy test on the stand, thinking that she'd buy two just to be sure, whilst simultaneously fighting a slight feeling of nausea.
"Kesese! You're going to need extra small for fat commie bastard though!" Gilbert yelled.
"They don't make condoms Ivan-size in this tiddly little country," Raivis said, waving a packet of 'Trojan XL' at the Prussian and then realising she was descending to the Awesome One's level, she added "... and he's not fat, it's all," and emphasised the word 'all' "...muscle."
"Dude chick likes fat commie," Gilbert concluded and started perusing the leaflets on pregnancy.
Meanwhile, Denmark was perusing the neighbouring aisle, which in addition to condoms and other forms of contraception, contained... less appropriate items, shall we say.
"Stop waving that around, Mathias, it's obscene!" Latvia soon shouted at the Dane upon seeing him waving one of these items about. "And put that little bottle down, I highly doubt you're going to be using that anytime soon and I'm certainly not buying it for you, my God."
"You don't know what I do!" Denmark yelled, disturbing various customers with his loud voice.
"Thank God I don't..." Latvia answered. "I mean really, though, I'm not buying you that bloody thing – Gilbert! Give that lady her baby's bottle back! Oh, I'm sorry madam, he does this from time to time, no one knows why. I think he was dropped on his head as a baby. Mathias! What did I say about that thing! It's not a toy! Oh... maybe it is... Oh bloody hell, if this is what motherhood is like I swear to God..."
"Dude chick needs to chillaxe!" Gilbert said.
Ten minutes later, Latvia, Prussia and Denmark left the pharmacy with a small bag containing the two pregnancy tests, a small bottle that Denmark had insisted he needed, some random thing Prussia had broken and so they'd had to buy it, and a lifetime ban from a pharmacy in Helsinki's city centre. "Kesese, that was awesome! My favourite part was when that kid got his head stuck in the medicine stand and they had to call management to help him out! Ace!"
At this point, pregnancy hormones raging and tolerance levels at an all-time low, Latvia calmly handed the carrier bag to Denmark (who attempted to balance it on his head), pulled her arm back, and punched Prussia out cold in a move that would have made Russia proud, had he seen it.
Sealand watched, with great interest from the driver's seat in Prussia's awesome van – which had just got its second parking ticket.
Dude Den picked up his 'awesome' friend, threw him over his shoulder and carried on walking as if nothing had happened.
Latvia followed, nodding approvingly. At least one of the morons was trainable.
They passed a newspaper stand and barely registered the headline on the early edition of Helsinki Evening News – 'Lost Da Vinci Auction Frenzy'.
Leningrad, Russia
Romano was in a telephone box, a scarf muffling his mouth as he dialled the number, "Ciao!"
"Privet?" came a sweet, little girlish voice.
Who on earth was this? Romano racked his considerable intellect. It wasn't any of the trembling bastards and it certainly wasn't Ukraine.
"Who is this?" he asked.
"This is Secretary Ivanova, comrade," came the little girly lisp.
"Who?"
"I'm Miss Braginskaya's secretary, can I help you?"
Romano frowned, what on earth was going on?
"Is Ivan Braginski there?" Romano asked, already knowing the answer and ready for his follow-up question.
There was a long pause and then, "Nyet, he is on business."
"On business where?"
"Helsinki," there was a pause then... "That's in Finland," Miss Ivanova said confidently.
"I know that! I'm not stupido," Romano was outraged and slammed the telephone down. Bingo! He now knew where to go. He got in his hire car, adjusted his disguise which he'd decided would come in useful – a huge false moustache and sunglasses and headed for the road to Helsinki.
Another person attempted to telephone Russia's household.
"Hello? Is Raivis there?" Lily asked as the telephone was picked up, expecting Lithuania to answer – he usually did. However, Lithuania was at that moment in a pink sports car heading west with a Polish man dressed in a designer Coco Chanel suit complete with diamante earrings (Poland was dressed in the designer suit, not Lithuania).
"Just a minute..." the secretary said, put down her nail file with a sigh and yelled ear-splittingly, "Miss Braginskaya! Telephone!" and then added sweetly into the receiver, "The boss is just coming."
"Da?" Katya appeared in the doorway to her brother's study.
(If Ivan had been angry at the make-over of his basement by Poland into an 8 year old girl's dream, he would have been equally horrified at the scene in his study. Miss Ivanova (no relation) had prettified his study to the nth degree. There was an assortment of stuffed animals adorning his desk, a flowery throw on his leather chair, the Battle of Moscow painting that stood over the fireplace had been replaced with a truly ghastly picture of kittens wearing cute hats. She had also replaced the blood-red velvet curtains with pretty floral ones with tassel tie-backs. But worst of all, and a change that would have had Russia kolkolling if he wasn't charging across the border to Finland, she had thrown his vodka out.)
Katya took the telephone from her, gave the girl a piece of paper and told her, "Type this up, please."
Miss Ivanova looked at the IBM computer on Russia's desk (Estonia's pride and joy) and proceeded to spend the best part of an hour attempting to put paper in the screen as if it were a typewriter.
Katya smiled, that should keep the girl quiet and stop her from doing any more make-overs, she thought.
"Is Raivis there?" Lily asked again.
"Nyet, is that you, Lily?"
"Yes, I just wanted to speak to Raivis. Is that you, Miss Ukraine?"
"Da. How are you, Lily?" Katya sat herself down on Russia's couch, watched with much amusement as her secretary taped the piece of paper to the monitor and started typing on the keyboard and looked in total confusion as nothing appeared.
"I'm fine..."
"How is your husband?" Katya asked, settling herself down for a nice long gossip.
She smoothed down her Red Army uniform. She'd told the Soviet government that her brother was indisposed for a while and that she would be acting as 'Mrs Russia' for a few days. To say they'd been delighted had been an understatement. Celebratory fireworks had gone off in the Kremlin at the news. However, if they thought Katya was going to be a pushover they were going to be sadly disappointed.
"So what happened with you and Icy? Me and Ed had to leave quickly. Did Vash really kick little Icy around the island?" Katya asked, hungry for gossip – she could pass this on to Pol later.
"Yes, he did and he won't let me see him," Lily answered, ignoring the fact that he was laid upstairs as she spoke, still exhausted after their 'marital activities'.
"Noooo, oh that's unfair," Katya said.
"I know but I have a plan. I need to speak to Raivis."
"She's not here. She ran away," Katya said.
"Where to?" Lily asked.
"Well, Ed – he's so clever... he's tracked her down to Helsinki and Vanya's gone after her. I mean, did you know that her and Vanya... at Vienna..."
"Oh yes! It's so romantic!" Lily squealed. "She told me all about it on the phone the other day."
"They met in the war." The two women said in unison.
Then they both giggled.
"Hahaha, under some bushes, honestly!" Katya still thought this was hilarious. "Yes, anyway, Vanya's gone after her. He's really smitten, but we don't know why she just upped and went. Do you know?"
Lily considered this, "No, I don't. Poor Mr Russia. I thought Raivis was in love with him," Lily sighed. This all scuppered her plans somewhat. On to Plan B, then. But Latvia and Russia's involvement in her plan would have given it more 'umph'. "I hope he catches up with her," Lily said.
"So do I. I think they're making things very complicated," Katya said as she watched her secretary fiddling again with the computer.
"I don't think this typewriter works, Miss Katya," Miss Ivanova said, shaking her blond head.
"I have to go, Lily, speak soon. Let me know how things go on and if you see Latvia, please ring me."
"Well, I hope they get together soon, Miss Ukraine... Raivis wouldn't stop talking about him when I spoke to her... anyway, bye Miss Ukraine. I'll let you know if I get any news," Lily said with the promise of any further gossip and hung up.
Leningrad to Helsinki road
Unfortunately for Estonia, who was sat in the passenger seat of Russia's black Volga, Russia was driving. Although this was a very loose term for what Russia was doing. The Estonian was covering his eyes for much of the way as Russia aimed the car, rather than drove the car along the highway. He sometimes and it has to be stressed, only sometimes, had one hand on the wheel. He never had both hands on the wheel. Heavy rock music blasted out from the battered tape deck, Russia puffed on a cigarette and alternated puffs with swigs from a vodka bottle. Estonia had pointed out that he should not drink and drive, but Russia had poo-pooed this, telling the younger Nation that he 'never spilled any'.
They'd stopped off at a petrol station – the exact same one that Latvia and Prussia had stopped at, filled up with petrol, bought more 'provisions', namely vodka, cigarettes, chocolate and Estonia had managed to steer Russia away before he bought an ice scraper – because 'it looked like a good weapon to have'. Estonia shook his head, what kind of person in their right mind would think a car accessory would make a suitable weapon?
However, by late afternoon they'd reached the border crossing with Finland and sat in the usual mile long queue eating chocolate and doing the crossword.
"Look at all these people!" Russia exclaimed, pointing at the queue to leave his beloved motherland, "They all want to leave Russia."
"Who'd have thought?" Estonia answered.
"I know!" the sarcasm was lost on Russia as he watched wide-eyed as the line of mainly lorries, but also cars, attempted to leave Soviet Russia.
On the M20 road Leningrad to Riga
Also well on their way out of Soviet Russia was Pol and Liet, unconsciously resembling Thelma and Louise as Pol put his foot to the pedal and 'high-tailed it' (his words) out of Russia to Latvia (the country, not Raivis/Latty-kins).
"Why are we going to Latvia, Pol?" Lithuania asked. They were two hours from Leningrad and still had many hours to go. But at least Pol had pulled the roof back down and it now covered them from the Russian winter temperatures and the heater was on.
"Latty's publishers, darling," Pol answered.
"That manuscript has nothing to do with you, Pol. I told you. You shouldn't have stolen it."
"I'm just acting as her agent, sweetie. She obviously forgot it. I'll deliver it to her publisher and then bingo... another bestselling novel by Lucinda Lovelace."
Toris sighed. He loved Poland, he really did. He'd loved him since 1569 and they'd been lovers/best friends ever since. But sometimes, some of the things Pol did were morally ambiguous to say the least.
"But she might not want it to be published," Toris protested.
"Of course she did!"
"How do you know? Did she tell you she did?"
"Noooo not exactly, in so many words. But why write it otherwise?"
"What's it about anyway?" Toris said, giving up. Poland's brand of logic sometimes had that effect on him.
"It's about a girl sniper in World War II, meets a Russian officer, they have awesome sex under some bushes..."
"Ugh..."
"I know right... I mean a man and a woman? Who knew?"
"No, Pol, I mean under bushes..."
"Oh right. Anyway, he goes off, fights a load of Germans, gets injured, she thinks he's buggered off, she goes off and fights lots of Germans... little Latty doesn't like Germans – there's a lots of German-killing.."
"Get on with it, Pol."
"Okay okay, honestly. Well there's loads of angst and she nearly shoots him, saves his life and then they have loads of fantastic ground-shaking sex again and blah blah blah..."
"How can it be fantastic?"
"Well, he's really huge... and then he..."
"Oh God, Pol! I mean how can it be fantastic in the middle of a war?"
"Oh right... well, I suppose if you concentrate really hard..."
"It sounds rubbish. Where on earth has she got all this from?"
"Well, little Latvia," (here Pol said the words 'little Latvia' in a weird high sing-song voice which he thought was hysterically akin to Russia's) "... is not as innocent as she makes out..."
"Hmmm. Did you know that they'd... you know... in Vienna...?" Toris did not want to say the word sex in relation to Latvia and Russia.
"Nooo way! O. M. G."
"Well, they did."
"Where? Tell me it was in that funny vet's surgery... in that dog pen? How hilarious," Poland laughed so hard that he nearly swerved into oncoming traffic. "... and how tacky... dear oh dear... Braginski, you dog... hahaha. See what I did, Liet? What a dog?"
Liet sighed, "No, not in the dog pen. It was back at Austria's house."
"How did I not know?"
"Because we were doing woohoo?" Lithuania said.
"Haha, oh yes, Liet, that was totally ground-shaking..."
Liet sighed again.
"So where is this publisher again?" Liet asked his best friend.
"Riga, sweetie. We'll book into a nice hotel – the honeymoon suite and go see them in the morning."
"You can't just walk in, Pol."
"I know, that's why I made an appointment, Liet. I'm not as daft as you look."
Toris ignored this, "Why would they want to see you?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.
"And why shouldn't they see me? I mean look at me?" Pol said and caught a look at himself in the mirror and pursed his red lipsticked lips.
Toris did, he had to admit Pol did look... striking, "No, I mean, why would they want to meet you – Feliks Lukasiewicz?"
"They're not meeting me."
"But you said..."
"Keep up, darling. They're meeting Lucinda Lovelace."
"But she's..." Toris then finally realised what Poland was going to do, "You're not going to pretend to be her?"
"Well, she is unavailable. I'll just sort this out for her and do the publicity for her."
"What publicity?"
"Publicity, sweetie. There's always publicity when a new novel comes out."
"You've got to be joking."
"Of course I am," Poland said, unconvincingly.
"By the way, Pol. You do look lovely and don't take this the wrong way. But why on earth are you wearing that skirt?" Toris said carefully. He was used to seeing Poland in a skirt, but usually it was around the other Nations – to wind them up (particularly Russia, Germany and England – the sight of the cross-dressing Pole often caused them much irritation) and it didn't really bother him that much, but actually when they were alone together Poland dressed much the same as him.
"Because there aren't pants big enough for these balls, honey," Pol laughed and squeezed his friend's hand, his other hand resting on the steering wheel, his face full of joy.
Lithuania could think of no answer to this. And, actually, neither can the author.
'This was it,' he thought, 'a life of leisure and fast cars with my best friend'. Pol then pressed his foot on the accelerator, pushing the small sports car up to 100 miles an hour and laughed with sheer joy.
Author's Notes: The Kremlin is the fortified complex in the heart of Moscow used as the government seat – where the government officials meet.
I'm taking liberties with Estonia having an IBM computer – there weren't many around – computers that is – only in very big companies, government offices and universities and they were very basic – this is early 1980s.
I based 'Miss Ivanova' off a ditsy friend of mine who I once went to college with – she used to cover her desk with cuddly animals and once tried to use tippex (or correcting fluid) on a computer monitor... I like the idea of humans interacting with Nations – the whole idea amuses me. Expect more humans making cameo appearances.
The border crossing on the route from Leningrad/St Petersburg to Helsinki is apparently one of the busiest and often has a mile long queue of trucks. (Have made much use of Google maps for this fic – don't know what I would do without it.)
Thelma and Louise - a film in the 1990s about two women who take a convertible across the American mid-West and escape their humdrum boring lives/awful husband/boyfriends and become outlaws and heroines. (Good film)
The M20 is the road out of St Petersburg/Leningrad and goes through southern Estonia to Latvia - but whether this road was there in the 1980s when this fic is set I'm not sure - I couldn't find any maps from the 1980s... any Latvians, Estonians or Russians or anyone feel free to correct me.
1569 – the Union of Lublin when Lithuania and Poland were joined in the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth.
Woohoo – Liet's word for sex (the same term is used in The Sims game)
Next Chapter – a sea crossing, Russia vs Sweden (which was supposed to be in this chapter, but I've over-run - I'm trying to shorten the chapters a tad) and six Nations in a caravan, 3 Nations in a motel room, and what did the Nations do before TV?