Where's Alaska?

It was during a World Conference, as these types of things usually are. The time was around 3 O' Clock, time for the Italys' siesta break. This meant that that everybody else could just relax out in the U.N. courtyard… that is, if you could ignore the America and England's continued yelling/teasing match.

"Face it Iggy, you're no 'Empire' anymore!" Alfred teased, poking at the enraged Briton.

"Shut your trap, you ungrateful twat! You've got no F#%&ING respect for your elders! None!"

England was fuming. You'd think his old colony could spare some gratitude and humility…

Alfred grinned as her threw a casual arm around Arthur's shoulders.

"Oh, I don't think that's it, Iggy," he said, "I think that maybe you're just jealous that I'm a bigger country than you."

"HA!" Arthur yelled, smacking away the other nation's arm. "You wouldn't be the size you are now without me! Hell, you wouldn't even exist at all!"

France spoke up from a shaded spot under a tree, "Not entirely true L'Angleterre. Remember that L'Amérique bought Louisiana from moi."

Spain, who sat next to Francis, nodded in agreement. "Sí. After you had that fight with México, you got California and Texas."

"Hehe. Yeah…" Alfred reverently adjusted his glasses, and nodded to those present. "You guys know that I bought Alaska too."

Francis tilted his head in curiosity. "Really?" he asked, "From whom, mon ami?"

America flashed his best Hollywood smile. "I bought it from Russia."

-Who, in a flurry of fallen leaves, was suddenly leaning upside-down from the tree.

"I want it back," he said. His violet-eyed stare could have been intimidating if his scarf wasn't waving around his head.

Arthur, who was high-strung enough as it was, jumped in shock and cried, "What the hell?! Where did he come from?!"

"Alaska," the Russian responded calmly. "I want it back."

Alfred threw back his head and guffawed loudly. "Not a chance, you freak-on-ice! I bought it for 3¢ per acre and it's mine now!"

Ivan just blinked. Then he smiled that "I want to bludgeon baby seals with a pipe" smile and asked, "Where is it Америка? I want it back."

Said country just grinned and snickered, "Good luck with that."

For the most part, the day continued normally. America praised his own heroics in everything. England called him an idiot. France laughed at them both. This escalated into a chaotic frenzy until Germany got his "Business Face" on and yelled the rest of the world into order. Greece just slept through it and Canada remained invisible. The conference concluded today's business without having actually achieved anything.

At the end of the day Alfred was left walking to his car –an SUV hybrid- by himself. He was very glad to head back to his apartment that he kept here in New York, after picking up some fast food, of course. He started his car and checked his mirrors.

"Oh! Jeeze!!"

Ivan Braginski was sitting in the back seat of Alfred's car. He tilted his head and grinned at the American.

"I want Alaska back. Where is it?" he asked in a very Hannibal-esqe voice.

Alfred yelled at him, "Get out of my car!" He remembered every movie he ever saw, and Silence of the Lambs did not sit well. Perhaps Russia had a past in Horror films…

The Russian shrugged his massive shoulders and stepped out of the car. America just shook his head. What a weirdo…

Alfred locked the door behind him. The thing with Russia showing up in his car and wanting Alaska had creeped him out. He checked himself in his entryway mirror. Yup. Alaska was still there. He sat his bag of McDonalds and his Extra-Large Coke on the coffee table and began to chow down in front of his ginourmous flat-screen T.V..

Well into his third burger and a Jersey Shore marathon, Alfred got a strange feeling. He looked at his Big Mac. No, that wasn't it. He almost felt like… someone was staring at him. America looked around the room. There wasn't anyone there.

Tap Tap Tap

Hold up, was that his window?

Alfred almost had the heart attack that Iggy always told him his fast food diet would bring. A tall Russian with a very scary smile was standing outside his living room window. He seemed to be mouthing something…

"I want it back."

America politely gestured for him to shove it where the sun don't shine, but Ivan just smiled wider. The commercial break ended, so Alfred briefly glanced at his television. However, when he looked back to the window, Russia was gone. After a few moments of waiting for the shock to dissipate, he returned to his burger and Reality T.V. with gusto. He tried desperately not to think about how the Russian knew where he lived, or had gotten to his window on the thirty-second floor.

Day three of the World Conference rose bright and early, a little too bright and early for one Alfred F. Jones. He fought with his alarm clock (and lost) before putting on his glasses. He then stumbled to the bathroom in his Stars-'n-Stripes boxers. A foul taste lingered in his mouth from last night's fast food and beer. It took 3 more Big Macs and the better half of a six-pack to forget the mind-scarring incident with Russia.

Alfred began brushing his teeth while simultaneously checking out his own reflection in the mirror. Oh, yeah; he was one good-looking nation. There was Nantucket, Texas, Wisconsin, California, Colorado, and… Alaska! Yup, he appraised, Alaska looked pretty damn good this morning.

He leaned over the sink to spit and rinse. Wiping his face on one arm he stood to see the reflection of big, purple, Russian eyes in his mirror. America leaped about a foot in the air, spun around, and yelled a large number of expletives.

"What the F#$%?! How did you get in here?! What the hell do you want, Braginski?!"

Ivan gave a child-like smile. "I just want Alaska," he said, "That's all."

"Go to hell!" Alfred growled.

The atmosphere around the Russian darkened. For a moment, America thought he was going to start making that weird "kolkolkol" sound. Fortunately, he didn't.

All that he said was, "Sooner or later товарищ, I shall discover Alaska's… location." He gave the American's mostly-naked physique a slow perusal. Alfred felt decidedly uncomfortable. Ivan grinned wickedly as he watched him fidget. He then turned and walked calmly out of the apartment.

America quickly looked at himself and said, "Alaska, for your sake, I hope he never figures out where you are."

At the conference, Alfred was flopping back and forth between unusually quiet and overly animated. The rest of the world noticed his troubling behavior. Japan thought he was ill. France thought that he had gotten himself a lover. England just thought that the bloody Yank was just feeling more idiotic than usual. Nobody seemed to notice Russia staring at him. He looked at him like he was trying to figure out a puzzle… then he apparently found a solution. Ivan Braginski grinned in such a manner that all present felt the room drop at least ten degrees.

It had finally come to lunch break. In his hurry to get out of the room and away from Russia, Alfred dropped most of his papers. He was forced to linger behind as the room emptied. He looked around. The coast was clear.

Alfred thought he was scot-free, but just as he passed through the door, he felt a large hand palming his butt. A delighted Russian voice whispered into his ear, "I found it! I found Alaska!"