Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or its characters. I thank Himaruya Hidekaz for letting me play with his characters.

Acknowledgements: Thank you to all those who have reviewed, alerted, favourited: CactusNoir, LeedsLass, Simonana, Spearsem, IrishMaid, Blueladymare, PeppermintTwertle, Ever Blazin, I am Sweden, Elizablue, Cathrag, Arkanhari, ScarheartofDarkclan, xxcatxx, NightshadeHetalia, Becky999, .me.1, fire hores is awesome, Lani Carmine, xxEu-chan, ChubbyCubby23, AFreezingFlame, Animechic420, White eyed fox, Furret the Sparrowsong, rubyredroses1, PhantomPrussia, Art and Soul, Starchacer296, GirlLoki, FiresCreek, JustAGirlWithAPen, SchrapnelGirl, GermanyIsAwesome-NotPrussia, iTorchic, kakashailuckyblackcat, , 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, VengefulCat (my beta reader) and all my anonymous readers.

Warnings: None, well alrighty then - some scenes of a fluffy nature, Den, Pru, silliness.

Chapter 38 – Wolf

Just outside Riga, Latvia

The candy-pink Ferrari looked odd parked up at the side of the forest track. It's colour clashing with the whiteness of the snow and the darkness of the pine forest surrounding them.

Russia had been apprehensive about driving a pink sports car all the way back to Leningrad. However, he actually quite liked the colour and it handled like a dream. He was in no way as good a driver as Pol and once he realised that you couldn't drive the rear-wheel drive car at 80 miles an hour down a snowy carriageway without some skid or Latvia screaming in his ear, he'd taken the journey at a more leisurely 40 miles an hour. Poland would have been horrified to see the big Russian taking the sleek sports car – which had a maximum speed of 240 mph – cruising through the towns at a mere 20 miles an hour, mindful of the precious cargo next to him.

Estonia would have been amazed at Russia's careful driving and the fact that he hadn't crashed once, nor been in a car chase, nor done any hand-brake turns. Latvia, for her part, felt very safe and warm and had barely thrown up.

They'd stopped overnight just over the Polish-Lithuanian border in a small hotel and had ordered room service – barely leaving their room, a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door handle.

Now, however, Latvia had asked Russia to take a detour from the main road and they had travelled through miles of forest track, the small sports car occasionally sliding on the snow, until Latvia asked Russia to pull over and stop.

She got out and took a deep breath, pulling her coat around her. Russia followed, and gently took her hand in his. He had no idea why they'd stopped there, it was in the middle of nowhere, pine forest stretched out for miles around.

Warsaw, Poland

With the aid of Germany's wallet (which had been swiped by Gilbird), Gil and Den had taken a flight to Warsaw to pick up Gil's most awesome van (or the 'Mystery machine' as Den called it). However when they arrived they found the awesomest van in the universe precisely where Gil had abandoned it – at Terminal One of Warsaw Chopin Airport covered in parking tickets and four wheel clamps.

"Aw man!" Gil kicked each of the wheel clamps in turn and then plonked himself down and lit a cigarette.

"It says here..." Den read the notice slowly, "That you need 1000 zloty to get the vehicle released."

"What the fuck?"

"I know... I don't know how much that is in real money," Den said and rubbed his blond head.

They ambled back out onto the main road and Gilbert stuck his thumb out.

"What're you doing, man?"

"Thumbing a lift back to Vienna, man."

"Why, man?"

"Got no money, man."

"So what yer gonna do, dude Gil?"

"We could get back to specs' house and borrow some of his savings and then get back and rescue my van and then go on our awesome adventure around Europe drinking beer and visiting brothels! Kesese!"

"Good idea, Gil... or we could cadge a lift with those guys..." Den said slowly and pointed at the coach that had pulled up several hundred metres away from them and had been there for some time.

On the side was the logo 'Hawaiian Tropic'.

"Aw man, I ain't going to Hawaii. I get sunburn!" Prussia wailed.

Den shook his head, "I know right? But I thought it looked cool," Den said as the door of the coach opened and a bikini-clad, sun-kissed girl hung out and yelled at them.

"Hey!"

"Us?" the two Nations looked at each other dumbly.

"Yeah, you two dumbasses!" the girl yelled in a mixture of Italian and Spanish.

"She can't mean us..." Prussia said sadly.

"Do you two dumb morons want to come with us? We need two men to rub suntan lotion into twenty hot, half-naked bodies every day."

"Well... is there beer?" Den asked slowly.

Prussia was too dumb-struck to move, surely this couldn't be happening?

"No, sorry, no alcohol..." the girl answered, a smirk on her face. Who were these goons?

Den hesitated, "Aw man... and I thought our luck was in!"

Prussia almost fell over himself to get to the coach, he pulled Den along with him. "Wait!" he yelled as the coach door started to close.

The girl hung her head back out, "Que?" she asked.

"You'll have to excuse my friend..." Gilbert grinned, indicating the gormless Dane, "He's a little slow. Of course we can come along with you on your tour and we won't even want payment."

The girl just raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"...But I'm gonna need to make a detour past my brother's place, oh and Vienna and Leningrad and Helsinki..." Prussia kesesed as he thought of the looks on his fellow Nations' faces when he and Den turned up with a host of bikinied girls.

"Well... that could be arranged..." the girl said and stepped back to allow them on.

"Aw man... no beer?" Den remonstrated as they hurried up the steps of the coach.

"Yeah, but dude... all those women... girls in bikinis and just me, you and..." Prussia leapt up the steps of the coach two and turned to look down the coach to see... forty male models are looking back at him.

The girl slapped her hand on his back, "Thanks! We needed some help for the Pink Hawaiian Tropic Tour for the next issue of Playgirl," she said.

"Dude... they're dudes..." Den whispered in Pru's ear as the coach set off.

Prussia considered this, "Erm..."

Den considered their new turn of fortune, shrugged and made his way down the aisle of the coach, grinning. "Woohoo!" he yelled, "Let's go buff some ass!"

Prussia shuddered.

Leningrad

"I'm not sexy anymore!" Estonia said, his head muffled against Ukraine's ample chest.

"You are to me," Ukraine said, smoothing his hair.

"Why are you wearing a General's uniform?" Estonia asked her.

She smiled and gave a twirl, "Do you like it? I'm now General Katyusha Braginskaya..."

Lithuania had followed Estonia in and was now making tea. He really wanted no part in this and decided ignorance was bliss.

However, the next words he heard made him drop the teapot on the floor with a crash.

"...And I'm definitely pregnant," General Braginskaya told Eduard.

Eduard pulled her back in his arms and kissed her. "I've never kissed a Red Army General before!" he said. And then wished he hadn't – said those words, not the kiss – which he did enjoy.

Katya smiled and kissed him back.

Lithuania charged out of the kitchen, untying his apron strings, pulling his hair into a ponytail. "Well thank God Mr Russia isn't here! What the hell were you two thinking? Does anyone around here even think of using contraception?"

Katya and Eduard pulled apart guiltily. Katya looked set to cry, Eduard frowned and adjusted his glasses.

"I mean what the hell is Mr Russia going to say? He is going to explode when he finds out about this..."

Katya nodded and sniffed, "I know... but... we love each other..." and then she looked at Eduard for confirmation.

He nodded in agreement but looked worried.

"Bloody hell, Ed! Remember what the boss did to that milkman last year when he took a shine to Miss Katya? Or that window cleaner when he fell off that ladder looking through the window at Miss Katya's erm... assets? He's going to pile-drive you into the driveway."

Katya sniffed and Ed looked around, made sure Russia wasn't looming in the doorway and pulled her back into his arms, "Well... he got Latvia pregnant. So he can hardly go around moralising can he?" the Estonian said as bravely as he could. In his head he was adding up how much money he had in his off-shore accounts and whether it would be enough to get himself and Ukraine out of there and onto the most isolated island surrounded by sharks and barbed wire.

"Yes, he can... he can do what he wants. Use your head, Ed. He's 6 foot 2 and built like a garbage truck."

Ed considered this and turned to Katya, "Kat..." he began (he quite liked using the pet-name he'd just given her), "...If we go now, we could be back in Seychelles tonight..." he said.

Katya shook her head, "Oh Ed... you know it would never work..."

"Why? I love you, you love me and the baby..." Eduard was almost crying too. His usual calm, polite, reserved nature took a backseat and he wrapped his arms around the older woman.

Katya stepped back and smiled, "No, I mean we can't go there... we've been banned, remember?"

"Oh yes! Well... I have a nice island just off Gothenburg..."

Toris shook his head, "Ed, that won't work...Wait? What? An island?" Lithuania was appalled, "How come you have an island?"

Ed stammered, "Well... you see..."

Toris finally realised what Eduard had been doing the past forty years they'd been living in Russia's house – all those shady property deals - and his respect for his fellow Baltic went up. "Well it won't matter where you go because he'll just hunt you down. You know what he's like. Relentless, obsessive, like a predator..."

Riga, Latvia

The big 6 foot 2 inch built-like-a-truck predator was currently padding through the forest holding Latvia's hand.

"Do you have your gun, Vanya?" Latvia asked quietly.

"Nyet, but I have my pipe!" he answered chirpily.

"Good, because there are bears and wolves in these forests," she said.

Russia shrugged. It was doubtful he was going to run into anything more dangerous than himself, he would have been more worried if a coach-load of gay strippers had turned up.

"Here we are," Latvia said as she stopped in a clearing, "Did you bring the shovel?"

Russia nodded. He was still puzzled as to why they'd stopped off at a service station for a shovel. But he'd decided not to question it.

Latvia turned around and did something peculiar – to the Russian at least. She walked up to the nearest pine tree and seemed to take her bearings. She looked up and took note of the weak winter sun and then turned and disappeared back into the forest.

Russia almost panicked, especially after he heard her yell. He ran through the trees ready to punch out a large brown bear that he was sure was now mauling her. But he found her stood under a large birch tree.

She smiled at him and then took ten careful paces forward and stopped, reaching out for the shovel.

Russia shook his head, now realising what she meant and began digging.

Bonn, Germany

Germany was not a happy bunny. Not a happy bunny at all. For several reasons really. One being that a large coach-load of half-naked men had turned up on his driveway with his brother and his brother's very annoying half-baked half-drunk 'dude' friend and promptly tramped through his house, sat on his cream leather sofa leaving fake-tan all over the upholstery and then proceeded to drink all his beer.

He was also annoyed because he'd come home to a pile of paperwork, Gilbert's basement needed deep cleaning (it looked as if there'd been a massacre down there), several undesirables kept coming to the door asking for money from his brother and Italy had aimlessly followed him to the airport, onto the same flight and back to his home like a lost, stray puppy.

The latter was actually quite nice. Even though Germany wouldn't admit it, he liked having Feliciano sharing his home. The Italian slept in until noon, got up, made pasta, sang lots of Italian folk tunes all while wearing just his underwear – when he remembered to put any on.

But what really irked him was the Government officials who turned up at his house for an urgent meeting and went through the problems they'd had when they had no 'Nation'.

Honestly, he thought, he'd never had a day off sick since the 18th century, never took a holiday - only to visit Italy occasionally, attended very world meeting and conference and never made stupid jokes, threatened to bomb anyone, stick metal pipes in people's skulls, pull anyone's trousers down or drag anyone into closets. He thought he was the model Nation, the one they should all aspire to be like – hard-working, sober, intelligent, diligent, punctual. In other words, boring.

However, his Government's representatives told him that there'd been serious thoughts given to the fact that if anything happened to him again (Germany refused to remember his time dressed as a hippy in the psychiatric ward of Vienna General Hospital) then they really did not want to be faced with the prospect of asking Gilbert to stand in as their Nation again. Although no major catastrophe had befallen them, they had all agreed that it was close thing that Gilbert hadn't declared war on the Soviet Union or some such idiocy. But, if Ludwig went 'away' again, who could they ask and this is why a group of officious Government pen-pushers were now sat on Ludwig's neat sofa (now washed of fake tan – the sofa, not the officials) politely drinking tea.

"We need to ascertain that if or when you decided to take a trip..." here the official paused and glanced at Feliciano who was perched on Ludwig's knee, "... in the future, that we could call on someone to be the Nation..." he finally finished.

Germany did not like the way the man said 'trip' as if he'd been on some kind of drugs trip... "Well, I won't be going anywhere. I never go on holiday and if I do it's only to visit Italy..."

(Italy snuggled into him, much to Germany's irritation – the smaller Nation was like a limpet.)

"... and so there is really no need to ask my bruder to be Germany again. Mein Gott! You are lucky he didn't start World War Three!"

The government officials all exchanged looks, that was precisely their thoughts.

But if Germany was annoyed at their suggestions now, he was about to literally explode (well, okay not literally explode, that would be messy) with rage when he heard their next suggestion:

"Perhaps you should think about having children?"

The sentence wasn't quite finished before Germany jumped up, knocking Feliciano onto the floor and bellowed with rage, his face bright red, "Children?"

"Ve! Geeerrrrmaaaany! We could have lots and lots of bambinos!" Italy sang and started dancing around.

Germany was obviously not impressed by this, "Children? I'm supposed to have children?" he completely ignored Feliciano who was spinning around and babbling about the possibility of how many girls and boys they could have.

The officials all exchanged glances, nodded and one coughed politely, "Erm Mr Germany, all the other Nations have a substitute or son or daughter that can take over should they..."

Feliciano interrupted them and chirruped, "Si, si... we will have lots of little bambinos to take over as Germany... lots of little Italianos who can take over when me and Ludwig go on holiday to Venezia!"

"Oooh Italy..." Germany groaned, slumping down on the sofa as the officials hurried out.

"Que?"

"You're a man and I'm a man... so..."

"But Germany, I'm going to go and see Mr England and he will help me..." Italy sat down beside him and patted his hand, "You'll see, everything will be alright..."

Riga, Latvia

Russia had only been digging for around ten minutes before the shovel hit something hard and metallic and there was a thud. He stopped and threw the shovel to one side and bent down to scrape the dirt away.

Latvia knelt down beside him and reached down into the hole, but Russia gently nudged her away, "You can't do any lifting," he told her. (He'd insisted on her doing nothing since leaving Vienna and had even carried her gently into the hotel rooms they'd stayed in, bringing her breakfast in bed and generally treating her like a queen.)

He hauled out a metal box, dusted off the dirt and cracked it open, unsure as to what he would find.

Latvia gently took his hand, squeezed it and shook her head. She carefully lifted out a very old, mouldy Red Army greatcoat – the metal tin hadn't quiet protected it from over 30 years of damp and dirt.

Russia's eyes widened and then he smiled as he remembered the last time he'd seen that coat – wrapped around a young, blond girl sniper. There was also a mouldy camouflage jacket tucked away which Russia carefully unfolded.

Latvia paused and kissed Russia gently on the cheek before reaching in and lifting out a small package wrapped in newspaper. With great care she unwrapped it and lifted out several medals with ribbons still attached.

Russia's eyebrows shot up and he looked quizzically at Latvia, "Aija? These are yours?" he asked.

She nodded, taking an Order of Lenin with 'Major Aija Yereva' engraved on the back and holding them up, a soft smile on her lips of sadness and regret.

Russia gently gathered her onto his lap and held her against his chest, "You were very brave, little Aija," he whispered.

She laughed a little, wiping a stray tear from her cheek, "I know... I even had to keep a Russian officer warm one night... I saved his life!"

For a moment, Russia's purple aura returned and he growled and then... realised. "Oooh!" he said and then smiled, hugging her tight. "What was he like?" he asked and then hoped she would reply in a nice way...

"Oh... he was very nice... very handsome... even though it was dark..."

Russia blushed at this.

Latvia snuggled back into Russia's lap, tucking the medals into her pockets and continued, "... and he kept me nice and warm all night..."

Russia kissed the top of her head softly and smiled.

Latvia smiled and then, to Russia's regret pulled herself out of his arms and stood up, brushing the snow off her. Russia got up from the ground shaking the snow off his coat and followed her deeper into the forest.

"We hid out here in these forests for years," she said quietly.

Russia was silent, knowing she had to get something off her chest and it was best he said nothing.

"There were hundreds of us, here in my country, Estonia, Lithuania...and once we even got over the border into Russia and blew up a Red Army ammunition site," Latvia paused in her memories as she trudged through the forest. Ivan said nothing but gently took her hand and squeezed it reassuring her that he wasn't angry. He'd have done the same, to protect his country.

She hesitated as she came to another clearing, and then began to trudge up a hill. Russia still saying nothing, followed her like a large dog, his hand tightening on his metal pipe as he heard the howl of wolves in the distance.

Latvia walked on, checking behind her that Russia was loping after her and then came to a small hill. She turned and raised an eyebrow at him. "Well?" she asked.

Russia frowned and then realised where they were. His memory was often flaky. He could barely remember what he'd done the day before, events from the past sometimes hit him full square in the present and his only respite would be a vodka bottle, but he could remember the day Alaska had been born, he remembered the day he'd taken Lithuania from Poland – throwing the young Baltic Nation over his shoulder like he was a sack of potatoes and telling him that he was going to work for him, the day Germany invaded his beloved Motherland... and the cold winter night some 30 plus years earlier.

Latvia gently led him to the clump of bushes and pulled him in beside her, sitting herself down. Russia ducked in and sat down on the cold ground.

"How did you remember where this was?" Russia asked her as he pulled her onto his lap, looking around... the branches overhead still holding their late winter foliage now lightly covered in snow.

Latvia smiled, "Me and my comrades in the forest brothers used to meet down there in that clearing and I realised ages ago that this bit here is where I hid out from a load of Germans that night and this gorgeous Russian officer came along..." She trailed off to kiss him.

Russia was still gazing around him in fascination – he half expected to see a discard tin of meat or a chocolate wrapper.

Latvia ran her fingers through is thick blond hair, pulling him back into a kiss and then dug into her pocket and pulled out a bottle of vodka and a large bar of chocolate.

"For old times' sake?" she murmured.

Russia laughed at this, not a scary 'I'm going to rip your head off in a minute' laugh, or a 'it is funny watching my fellow Nations fighting' laugh, it was a genuine one of amusement and pleasure.

Ivan took a swig of the vodka, but not too much, he was driving after all and he had to stay sober to take care of his little Latvia and their precious bundle. Latvia drank none of it, but they shared the chocolate, both while lying back on the ground – Latvia's old army greatcoat under them - looking up at the cobalt blue sky.

They held hands for a few minutes until Latvia finally broke the silence, "Vanya... I'm cold," she whispered.

"We could go back to the car," Russia said.

Latvia sighed, he hadn't been this slow in coming forward the last two nights. The night before they'd spent in a hotel in Lithuania and he'd carried her up the stairs and into the hotel bedroom, laid her on the bed and they hadn't come down until breakfast the next morning – both giggling, linking hands, looking dishevelled and ignoring the other hotel residents' outraged looks.

Now, however, he was being particularly obtuse. Latvia rolled over and pinned him down – which was something that had never happened to Russia before. He blinked in surprise and was about to throw her off – a reflex action, but then realised it was just little Latvia who weighed about half as much as him and was now stroking his face and kissing him. He relaxed and placed his hands on her waist, undoing her coat.

Latvia leaned over and started to undo his coat, and then worked her way lower. Russia hesitated and then whispered, "It's a bit cold though, Aija?"

"Then you'll just have to warm up, Vanya," she answered, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

Russia snorted at this and flipped her carefully onto her back, ran his hands down her sides, lingering gently on her still non-existent bump and got to work in warming them both up.

Leningrad, Russia

Five days later

Russia pulled up in the pink Ferrari, opened the passenger door and let Latvia out. He picked her up and carried her over the threshold.

"Are you two married?" Katya asked with some surprise, "And where have you been? It doesn't take six days to drive from Warsaw to here..."

Latvia and Russia exchanged looks and Latvia giggled and blushed, she didn't really didn't want to answer why had it taken them six days to get home. In actual fact they'd had far too many stop-offs at hotels and in some cases it had been lunch-time before they'd emerged from their bedroom. As Russia had said, they'd had over 30 missing years to make up.

"Erm... nyet, we are not married. But we should be, da?" Russia raised an eyebrow and then promptly went down on one knee and took the small Latvian's hand.

Latvia broke into giggles, "Oooh Vanya, we don't have to... we can't... maybe one day...?"

Russia looked disappointed, but thought it was perhaps because he didn't have a ring? He would get one tomorrow, he decided. So he stood up and looked his sister up and down. She looked different, but he couldn't work out why. He soon found out.

"Well... you two," Katya started to say. "You both look really happy," she took a deep breath. They did actually – her 'little' brother looked happier than she'd ever seen him and Latvia had a little glow in her cheeks, "... and I'm so pleased about your news. I can't wait to be Auntie Katya again... what with you and Natalya having a little one... even if it is with Arthur who is an odd man... but anyway..."

Estonia nudged her. He was rather hoping that, with Russia being all loved up with Raivis, that their news would be greeted positively.

"...I'm expecting again..." Katya told him. "You're going to be an uncle again..." and then waited.

Russia wasn't really surprised, his sister had been very fertile in the past, but it annoyed him that someone had taken advantage of her. In his eyes, his big sister was a soft touch for any passing bloke with a sad story. There had been quite a few and a number of them had met with Russia's fist and/or metal pipe.

"Who's the father?" he asked with a menacing growl.

"Well..." Katya hesitated as the purple aura started to blaze around her brother.

"Vanya... I don't think that's any of your business," Latvia said carefully and put a warning hand on his arm. She glanced at Estonia, who had, to give him his due, stepped forward. Lithuania stood next to him but looked very worried and was about to bring out the magical vodka.

Russia gently shook Latvia's hand away and took out his metal pipe, "Who's is it? I'm going to kill him ... sestra they just use you and it's not fair... you are too nice. If it's a KGB officer then I will kill him twice..."

They all glanced at each other, confused. How on earth do you kill someone twice?

Estonia opened his mouth to say, it was him and instinctively covered his head expecting a pipe to be embedded in it.

But it was Latvia who stepped in. She winked at both Eduard and Katya, and said, "Vanya, I think Katya said that it was somebody she didn't know?"

Katya was about to say something, that she wasn't that type of woman but Latvia shook her head and mouthed at her, 'Go with it, trust me'.

"Wut? Not again... Katya? If I ever get my hands on Viktor's father I am going to smash his head in for leaving you all alone..."

Katya shook her head, "That was over two hundred years ago, brother..."

Russia was not interested in this. He was still annoyed that his big sister got dumped with these children.

Eduard swallowed, stepped forward, raised himself to his full five feet, nine inches and said in his bravest voice, "Mr Russia... I'll take care of Miss Ukraine..." he began to say.

Russia spun around and looked at his geekiest Baltic, "You will?"

Eduard nodded, and pushed his glasses back up his nose, "Yes... I mean, I..."

Latvia smiled and nodded at Eduard, "Vanya, if this father doesn't turn up then Eduard will help Miss Katya. He's very reliable and he'll make sure that financially she'll be okay, won't you, Ed?" she winked at him.

"Yes, erm... that farm you have, Miss Katya? Well I'm sure you're not getting all the money you could out of it, and with a little one on the way..."

Russia clapped a large hand on Estonia's shoulder, "Good boy, Ed... and you will be quite safe with him, big sis," here he whispered in Katya's ear, "He's gay..." (Katya almost choked at this.) "...so I can trust him..."

Toris was watching all this with huge eyes. How on earth did the crafty bugger get away with it, he thought.

Latvia smiled and she exchanged knowing smiles with Katya.

With a bit of luck, Russia's spaciness and bad memory, they might just get away with this...

As it happened, Eduard and Katya's brief hug was completely missed by Russia as he completely exploded over another development at his house. (Not literally exploded, again, that would be very messy.)

"What happened to my study?" he bellowed. The fact was that there was a painting of a cute kitten wearing a hat in place of a painting of the Battle of Moscow, floral curtains and a chintzy throw on his armchair was not the worst of it. The worst of it was that his 'secret' stash of vodka hidden in his desk drawer and his secret back-up vodka which was hidden behind a copy of Kama Sutra that France had given him many years before, were both gone.

Ukraine's young blond secretary popped her head around the door and said in her little girl voice, "Hello Mr Russia? Do you have a problem? Don't you like the new decor? Miss Ukraine said I could do it... anyway, as Mr Eduard is going to stay with Miss Ukraine now I'm going to be your new secretary..."

Russia growled at her, who was this little chirpy thing anyway? And why wasn't she shaking?

"You will change this back for me and keep out of my way..." he growled in his most menacing voice.

Miss Ivanova actually smiled, patted his arm and said, "Aw, you're so sweet! My boss said you'd be really scary, but you're not at all..." and then in a wave of complete airheaded-ness, she wafted out smiling.

"I'm not scary any more!" Russia said in disbelief.

Latvia gently hugged him, "Don't worry, Vanya... you are sweet but you're still scary..."

Russia blushed... she thought he was sweet!

Helsinki, Finland

"...Well, you'd have thought he'd be home by now, Ber. I mean it's just not like him... all his beers are still in his room where he left them and those horrid magazines..." The speaker was Tino, he was just putting on his Santa suit on, getting ready for work.

Berwald, making breakfast for Peter, just nodded. In actual fact, he was quite pleased that Denmark hadn't come home. Life was so much easier without the big goon making the house look untidy, shouting at the television, making prank calls and squabbling like a big kid with Sealand.

"Peter! Get down here... time for school!" Tino shouted up the stairs and then continued his one-sided conversation with his 'husband' – which he was used to. "I mean, I hope he's alright... the last time we saw him he'd gone off with Gilbert and that's never good news."

Berwald didn't answer this. He wasn't in the slightest bit concerned about Denmark's welfare, the big goon always managed to turn up – usually with some girl in tow.

"... And if he thinks that I'm going to bail him out again when he gets arrested..."

Tino's tirade was interrupted by a horrid sound on the driveway outside.

Berwald looked up, Peter shuffled in, scratching his head, his school uniform askew.

The small Principality ran to the window and yelled, "Dad... Mum... Mr Russia's here... and he's brought your car back!"

This should have been good news, however, it was the laughing way Sealand had said the word 'car' that made Sweden and Finland go to the door and open it with some trepidation.

Sweden, at first, couldn't believe quite what he was seeing. Russia had returned his car... but not quite in the way that he'd hoped.

As it happened, Estonia had not been quite as efficient as he usually was. He had had the car delivered to a garage and had expected it to be repaired. But, whether it was because of his impending fatherhood, the realisation that he wasn't going to be pounded into dust by his boss or just miscommunication, the garage owner had taken one look at Sweden's once pride and joy and done the only thing really he thought he could do.

Hence, Russia had driven Poland's pink Ferrari (with Latvia in the passenger seat, trying to look inconspicuous) up the driveway, its back wheels almost flat due to the weight in the back.

"What in God's name?" 'Santa' began.

Sweden stood beside him, "M'car?" he asked in bewilderment.

Sealand stood behind them, sniggering. He'd already figured out what was happening.

Russia climbed out of the small car, walked around to the back and lifted up what looked to be a large metal pancake.

Humming, Russia brought it around and plonked it down in front of Sweden and Finland and said, without any humour or irony, "I've brought your car back for you."

Sweden still didn't understand, Finland looked at the 6 foot long chunk of crushed metal and then back at Russia, realisation slowly dawning. Sealand sniggered. Latvia, slowly getting out of the car, approached warily.

"M'car?" Sweden asked again.

Russia nodded happily, "It looks a bit different... and the tyres are still a bit squashed, but you can change them..."

"Are ya tryin' t'be funny?" Sweden asked, his voice going very low and dangerous.

Russia frowned. Estonia had assured him that it was 'all sorted'. However, the love-struck Baltic hadn't actually seen what remained of the Volvo, but had taken the garage's word for it that 'they'd done all they could' and the flat metal pancake had arrived at Russia's house on the back of a pick-up truck. Russia had promptly, thinking he was being useful and neighbourly, plonked it on the back of Poland's Ferrari (actually now Latvia's Ferrari, thereby ruining the suspension) and drove to Sweden's house.

"That's... that's..." Finland struggled to find his voice.

"Dad, you're not going to be driving me to school in that!" Sealand announced gleefully.

Sweden turned and glared at his 'son'.

Russia frowned at this, "A bit of fiddling with the engine..." he said lamely.

"In what universe are you living in that you think 'fiddling with the engine' will ever make this car roadworthy?" Finland suddenly exploded. "It's been through a crusher!"

Latvia carefully intervened, "Erm Santa, I mean erm Tino... we thought that we'd better bring it back. Vanya didn't know..." she added lamely.

Russia smiled down at her. She always seemed to make things appear a little better, he thought. He then bent down and picked up the car and attempted to hand it to Sweden.

Finland's eyes widened.

"Wooo! I wish I had Mr Russia's super-strength!" Sealand said, as if Russia was some superhero.

It was the final straw for Sweden when the tinny sounds of 'Dancing Queen' could be heard coming from the inside the metal.

Russia smiled and chirruped, "The radio still works!"

Sweden growled something unintelligible and slammed back into the house. Finland and Latvia exchanged worried looks. Russia held the car to his ear as if it were a gigantic radio, with a silly smile on his face, "You like ABBA, little Aija, da?" he asked.

Inside the house there was crashing and banging and then Sweden reappeared with a huge broadsword.

"Go Dad!" Sealand shouted, completely overjoyed that his 'boring dad' was all riled up.

"Oh no! Ber..." Tino was horrified as Berwald swept past both him and Sealand and slammed into Russia, making the big Arctic Nation drop his 'transistor'.

Russia's big purple eyes widened in confusion, "They were about to play Meatloaf!" he said.

Latvia jumped out of the way, "Vanya! No!" she said in desperation. She would have gotten in the middle of them, but she feared for hers and her baby's safety.

"But that's what they said...Meatloaf is on next..." Russia said lamely and then he quickly jumped back as Sweden, now in full Viking mode, swung his broadsword at him.

"You... you... big... lame... stupid..." with each word, the big Swede took a swipe at the big Russian with his sword as Ivan dodged and ducked.

"Vanya!" Latvia shouted and ran to Tino, "Please, Tino, stop this..." she pleaded.

"Go Dad!" Sealand yelled and then whispered to Latvia, "This is ace and I should be in double maths..."

Latvia didn't think it was funny and said so.

"Aw... anyway, my money's on Mr Russia cos he's a bad-ass..." Sealand told her.

Russia took out Mr Pipe and parried Sweden's blows. His purple aura didn't make an appearance, he just wasn't angry. He'd spent a whole week with Latvia – holding her and kissing her every night, he was going to be a father and Estonia had taken his older sister out of his way back to Kiev, telling him that he would 'sort out her finances for her', so in Russia's eyes things were looking pretty good. He could allow a little fight with Sweden.

Finland attempted to step between them, "Berwald, Ivan... please stop this," he said.

Neither Nation listened as broadsword met metal pipe with clangs of metal and grunts from both opponents.

Latvia squeaked with fear, "Vanya, don't get hurt... Mr Sweden... please don't hurt him..." she pleaded. Normally this would be enough to stop Sweden, however, he was now in full Viking mode and nothing was going to stop him.

However, something did stop them... something quite unexpected but actually quite awesome.

A large coach with the words 'Hawaiian Tropic' pulled up in the driveway and the familiar foghorn voice of Den could be heard yelling, "Wait a minute, dudes, I need to get my beer and my Scooby Doo mug and t-shirt..."

Sweden, lowered his broadsword and watched in utter disgust as Denmark, clad only in very tight speedos jumped out the coach, sauntered past Latvia, giving her salacious wink as he did so (she giggled loudly) and strode into the house, belching loudly.

Russia also lowered his pipe and frowned, "Has he been on holiday?" he chirruped.

Sealand was having the time of his life. As well as his 'parents' forgetting to take him to school amidst all the commotion, there'd been a brilliant fight and now his Uncle Den had turned up. "Ha! You're in trouble, Uncle Den... Mum says that Santa won't visit you this year!"

Den wasn't bothered as he hunted around for his Scooby Doo paraphernalia, his Christmas was going to be spent in Hawaii (he thought).

Finland was outraged, "What in the name of Rudolf?" he yelled as forty something buffed up men, also clad in speedos (although some were wearing robes) and fake tan, jumped off the bus and proceeded to slouch past to use the toilet.

Latvia's eyes widened and she stepped back, "It's such a shame Pol isn't here," she said sadly.

"Are they going to the beach?" Russia asked innocently.

"You're a disgrace!" Finland shouted at the Danish Nation.

"Kesese! You lot kill me... me and Den are going on our most awesome adventure..." Prussia leapt out of the coach. He too was wearing just a pair of speedos and his normally very pale skin was now... orange.

"With a load of gay men?" Latvia asked, raising an eyebrow. "And what happened to your five metres?"

"Aw shaddap..."

Russia looked the small Prussian up and down, "Five metres of what?" he asked innocently.

Latvia smiled, took hold of the Russian and pushed him back towards the Ferrari, "Never mind, Vanya..." she said, still giggling.

"Can we go to the beach too, Aija?" Russia asked her as he started the engine, about to leave behind the chaos that was now erupting in Finland's driveway.

"Yes, my love," she said, still laughing as Prussia was being pinned against a wall by Sweden, his broadsword just close to his jugular as the Prussian attempted to explain just why he'd brought a coach-load of men into his house. Sealand had run indoors and re-emerged and was taking photographs – no doubt to sell on to Hungary and Belgium. Finland was still shouting at Denmark to 'get his big fat Danish ass down here and explain why there was a queue of forty half-naked men waiting outside his bathroom'.

Latvia then gave Russia a crafty side-ways look, "I'll even get you some speedos... but only if you wear them just for me!" she said.

Russia almost crashed the car leaving the driveway at this remark...

Author's Notes:

As you can see, I enjoyed writing this chapter so much, I couldn't finish it... an epilogue to follow. Am on holiday for two weeks and am uploading this without much editing/checking but wanted to get it up (no sniggering at the back) before I went...

References to my other story Winter's Night – I thought I would bring everything full circle...