Disclaimer: I own nothing. Rights go to the respected owners. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

A/N: Well... this is it guys :) This is the last chapter. It took me a month and a half to finally finish it, but it's here now. I just want to thank everyone who has been with me since the beginning, and just, every single person who read and/or reviewed. It means a lot to me since this was the first chaptered fic I ever wrote, and my first fic to ever be completed. Anyway, I'm rambling now, but I hope you enjoy the last chapter of "This Affair Is Confidential." ;)


"How ya doin' back there England?" Alfred cocked his head around to ask as he started to navigate the narrower Russian streets.

"Besides attempting to hold down the bile in my stomach, I'd say quite well."

America let out a loud chortle as he turned his attention back to the road.

"Alrighty, well hold tight cause we're almost there." He paused for a moment before raising both his brows, as a smirk formed on his lips. "And please don't vomit on me. I like ya, but not that much."

"Git…" England mumbled under his breath.

Alfred simply waved him off before his tone once again became stern.

"But in all seriousness, we're almost there England. Can you hold up?"

"Yes I'll be fine. I've been put through much worse you know. I can handle a little stomach ache."

"Good," America allowed one hand to momentarily leave the controls, and feathered it over England's fingers. He started to rub small circles with his thumb as he spoke. "It'll all be ok, right? We'll surely come out successful… right?"

Silence lapsed between the two of them, and fear immediately overtook the American. Of course England wasn't going to answer that question, how could he? It's not like he was able see into the future or anything… since if he could, this whole mess might have been avoided.

"Alfred."

The American half turned to look at his partner before averting his eyes back to the road.

"Hmm?"

"Alfred… I don't know what's going to happen, but I want you to know that you did the best bloody job you could have done."

America half-smiled at the statement, as he could see his destination nearing closer.

"Thanks England."

"And Alfred."

"Yeah?"

There was silence on the other end. When the Briton didn't speak, Alfred simply allowed him time to find his words as he pulled onto a side street. The American pulled up to a curb, and then slowed the vehicle to stop. He parked, and when England was still at a loss for words, he turned to face the Brit. Two glossy emerald orbs were staring back at him.

"England?"

But Arthur didn't say anything. Instead, he closed those vibrant eyes, and lent forward allowing for his pink lips to meet the American's. Alfred's eyes doubled, then tripled in size before he managed regain control and simply close them. He contorted his body the rest of the way around to properly face his partner as their lips melted together. England reached up to run a hand through the American's golden locks, and as a subsequent reaction, Alfred pulled him closer, flat up against his chest. When the Briton gasped slightly, the younger spy took that as an invitation and allowed his tongue to delve into the other's mouth. England tasted like tea. Alfred wasn't sure why that surprised him, but it did. Perhaps in the circumstance, he figured that the Brit would taste like sweat or blood, but…

At that moment England tilted his head, and his tongue ventured out to meet Alfred's. America smiled into the kiss as the two battled for dominance, and he ran his hands up and down the Brit's back. For a moment it was heaven. The two of them were engorged in their own complete world of bliss, in each other, and in a kiss that was long overdue. But nothing lasts forever, and as England pulled away slowly, red up to his ears and in need of breath, both the spies found themselves smiling.

"Wow…" was all Alfred could manage as he stared at the glowing Brit in front of him.

"I… I'm not very good with words, but I wanted you to kno-"

But Alfred lightly laid his lips on the older man's, silencing his words. When he pulled away, England was again staring at him wide-eyed.

"It's alright, England. Actions speak louder than words."

Alfred smiled then, and since his grins were contagious, it spread to the Brit as well.

"I don't know what's going to happen Alfred… but… I'm proud of you and… and… Iloveyou," Arthur strung out as quickly as he could.

For a moment Alfred just smiled. It warmed his heart to hear those three words, a term of affection he'd never received before. England… England loved him, and it had only been what, two and a half weeks? His mom would probably tell him he was rushing things, but the American thought otherwise. He spoke softly as he leant his forehead against the Briton's.

"Love works in mysterious ways, doesn't it?" Alfred said as he bumped noses with his partner. "After all, I fell for a stodgy, old, Brit, didn't I?"

America laughed, and England merely rolled his eyes.

"But England."

The Brit returned his attention to sky blue eyes.

"I am so happy I did."

The American smiled, and Arthur couldn't help but doing so as well. You never can control how you meet someone, nor whether or not you fall in love with them. Fate does some things on its own, and prospects can't do much more than simply help to push it along. England met America for a reason; it was fate, but what had brought them together had also almost torn them apart. Now that same cause threatened to do so again if the two didn't act fast.

"Alfred?"

"Yes?"

"Let's go kick some Russian arse."


Quiet crept along with the spies as an awkward silence ensued from their prior romantic happening. Neither seemed embarrassed, yet the two continued to lounge in a blissful hush. America spoke up as the two entered an alleyway.

"So, any plans for breaching security, England?"

Truth be told, Arthur didn't really have a plan. All he knew was what Canada had supplied to him in a myriad of manila folders before he'd left. Supposedly, Braginski was set to release his innovation in a park near the center of town. An outdoor stage would be set up along with row upon row of chairs to fit as many people into the area as possible. It made sense to the Brit now; cram as many people into the space as possible, but leave it wide open and therefore prime for escape. Braginski was cunning for the setup, but there was just one miscalculation: as easy as it was to escape, it would be just as easy to break in.

"Well honestly, Alfred, I was thinking the traditional sneak up from behind, knock them cold, and leave them to rot. Though once we're inside, our time will be limited." England paused to confirm his actions with the American. "How does that sound?"

The younger man beamed and fist-pumped, clearly excited for what was about to go down.

"Hellz yes!"

"Shhh! Alfred quiet down we're nearly there."

England spoke the truth. From where the two stood at the edge of the alleyway, the park could be seen about three blocks down. Since the spies were coming from the rear, they could make out the back entrance to the stage and a lonesome female watch guarding it. The girl standing there looked innocent enough, though dressed in a Zlo uniform. Her hair was cut short, with a black headband keeping her bangs in place, and her skin was pale and creamy. Arthur watched closely and noticed how she would fidget and check her watch every few minutes, as if waiting for something. As the Brit turned to consult his partner, he realized the American was fixated on something else.

"Oh my god, England! Do you see her jugs? Dude!"

The Brit scowled mechanically and smacked his counterpart upside the head.

"Idiot! Stop staring at her bosom and listen to my plan!"

As Arthur said this however, he could feel his cheeks heat up and immediately directed his gaze to the ground. He wanted to look anywhere but at that git right now, and consequently, he missed how a smirk made its way onto the young features of America's face. The Brit let out a soft gasp, as two strong arms snaked around him, and devious words were whispered hotly in his ear.

"There's no need to be jealous, England."

The Briton's face grew more vibrant as he tried to squirm out of the American's hold.

"Alfred, I bloody swear-"

"Just because I'm not hungry doesn't mean I can't look at the menu. Know what I'm sayin', England?" He purred into the older man's earlobe. "Of course I'll still only have the hots for yo- OW!"

Arthur smacked the American right across his face, leaving his cheek a nice shade of cherry red, just as England's was.

"Git! I know you have the attention span of a goldfish, but for the love of god, would you try to listen? We're trying to save lives dammit!"

That got Alfred to quiet down as he simply nodded apologetically and gave his full attention to England.

Arthur sighed and glanced up at the American. He looked tired, small bags collecting under those sky blue eyes. Neither one of them had received any rest in the past 24 hours, and it was clearly starting to affect both. Needless to say, they were trained to be able to withstand conditions like these, but even still, either one would kill for a moment of shut eye. England laid his non-injured hand on the American's shoulder and spoke gently.

"Alright, Alfred we've come this close and we are not flubbing up now, understood?"

Alfred nodded again, and a small smile was lifted the corners of his lips.

"Okay, I have a plan, and whilst it's not perfect, we'll have to make do."

"Go oooooon." Alfred prodded.

"We're going to attempt this as a pair. In a moment, I'll walk up to this young woman, make polite conversation and entertain her for a few minutes. In the meantime, I want you to exit the alley, walk down a few blocks and then cross the street when you're out of sight. Once that's done, and the little lady is distracted, you'll come up and take her from behind."

Alfred snickered but when Arthur glowered at him, he quickly shut his trap.

"You'll grab her and keep her quiet as I pick the lock, and the two of us enter. Once we do so, I'll lock the door and we'll have limited time to find Braginski. She's sure to warn the rest of security, so you must be on high alert. Is that understood?"

"Gotcha!" America started, but then he took on a more somber tone. "But uh… but England…"

"Yes?"

"What if we don't find Braginski in the allotted time frame?"

"We will Alfred; now go."

Arthur pushed him lightly, and the American smiled softly before he turned and started a hurried jog down the alleyway. England watched and waited until the lad turned the corner and was out of sight before he dusted off his attire, stuck his damaged hand into his trouser pocket to shield it from view, and strolled out of the alleyway. He tried to strike a look of nonchalance, glancing around every now and again as if admiring the scenery. To look too suspicious would certainly be a problem, but if he could make it seem like he was an innocent tourist trying to find his way to Braginski's event, he would surely fool the security guard.

As he came closer to the woman, she turned to look at him. The Brit faked abruptly becoming aware of her presence, and smiled as convincingly as he could as he approached her.

"Privet," England started a bit rusty, making it look as if he were one of the touristic clients for the new Zlo product. "Vy mozhete mne pomochʹ naĭti vhod?"

The girl blinked at him a few times before she cocked her head to look behind England. Arthur followed suit, suddenly concerned that she was looking for back-up or something of the like. The Briton took a step back out of fear but the guard leaned forward and grabbed his arm.

"No, no! You can't go anywhere, I need your help!"

The Englishman looked at her confused, surprised that she spoke English, and suspiciously raised his brows. He motioned to his wrist, but the girl shook her head, refusing to relinquish her grip.

"No, please don't leave. You are one of the agents, yes?" She asked in a thick Ukrainian accent and Arthur was shocked. His heart started racing, pounding in his chest, as the realization of what he'd just learned dawned on him. This girl knew who he was, and she somehow knew that he was coming. He, in addition to Alfred, were in serious trouble now, for she'd surely have them locked up again in no time.

Arthur had to think fast, but this was what he was trained for. He brought his injured hand out of his pocket and elbowed the guard in the side. While she was disoriented he pulled from her grip, and covered her mouth with his palm. She shook her head vehemently, and her eyes seemed to well up. She continued to shriek and scream through Arthur's hold on her, and as he pressed his hand onto her harder, she bit him.

"OW! Bloody fucking hell!"

She grabbed his shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes. England cursed his luck; she was going to call the rest of security, and he'd be done with, and all those innocent people would be-

"Listen to me! You've got it wrong! I am good, yes? I am with Toris and Eduard and Raivis!"

At those words England paled. He tried to step away, but the girl stood her ground as he eyed her suspiciously.

"You're also part of the resistance?" he whispered, afraid someone would hear their exchange of words. The girl nodded feverishly and grinned as the spy was coming to understand.

"Yes, I am! Eduard said you would be coming and that we should help you find my brother."

England's eyes expanded as if to take in all the new information.

"Ivan is your brother?"

"Yes, now please-"

"But, I thought Braginski's sister was after us on the motorcycle."

The woman seemed to shiver, and not because of the chilly Moscow weather.

"You must have met Natalia. Sh-she's a terror. Does anything my brother asks even if she knows it is wrong. My name is Katyusha, and I am Ivan's older sister. Now please, enough! I really must tell you how to locate my brother before it is too late."

The Briton nodded, and the girl finally renounced her grip to reach into her pocket. She pulled out what looked like blueprints on a scratched up piece of paper.

"This is the layout for both the backstage and the front grounds." She handed the paper to the spy and started fumbling at her belt for a set of keys. "But even better, let me take you as far I can. Ivan will almost certainly be-"

And of course, America took the most impromptu course of action, and chose to show up at that very moment. He came up behind the girl, removed his pistol from his waist, and whacked her right on the side of the head. The poor lass never even saw him coming as her unconscious form fell into England's arms.

"Alright! Perfect timing!" America smiled, as he grabbed the keys from the girl's belt.

"You-! You-!" England started furiously. America furrowed his brows confused, as the small Brit started to fume.

"You fool! You absolute insufferable fool! When did I say knocking the guard unconscious was part of the plan?"

America could almost see the blood vessels pulsing through England's thin and peachy skin. He didn't know what he had done wrong. Wasn't he supposed to like disorient her or something? Knocking someone cold certainly seemed to fit that description.

"Idiot! She was a part of the resistance! She was going to lead us straight to Braginski!"

Oh… well now Alfred could see where he'd gone wrong.

"Oops?" the American tried, while raising his shoulders and offering an apologetic smile.

England sighed irritated as he laid the motionless body down on the ground. When he stood again, he swiped the keys from Alfred and rolled his eyes.

"Please try to follow instructions next time, hero," the Briton mocked as he slid the correct key into the lock.

"Will do… I'm uh, really sorry England," America stated sincerely. England clicked the door open, and turned back to look at Alfred, what might be one last time.

"I know, I forgive you."

Alfred smiled gently, and the two quietly stepped in unnoticed. As Arthur glanced up at his new surroundings, the one thing that immediately caught his attention was a clock. It wasn't of particular significance to him, nor did it hold any type on anesthetic value, but it did of course display something quite vital. He motioned for Alfred to look at it too.

"But love, with only ten minutes left, we certainly don't have time for anymore mistakes."


England pulled out the map he'd managed to acquire before Alfred blundered up his plan. He scrutinized the paper, trying to make sense of it, while at the same time keeping a low profile as the two infiltrated the premise. At the moment, Alfred stood a few steps ahead of the Brit, ready to jump if anyone were to miraculously appear and meddle with the spies.

"Any luck, England?" Alfred murmured as they continued to move.

The Briton was silent for a few more moments before he looked up from the map and to his cohort.

"According to this," Arthur started a bit eagerly, "Braginski has his own personal quarters not far from here. We just passed storage closet 2, did we not?"

"We did."

"Well if we're consistent with the diagram, we should make a right turn at the next corridor, continue to the end, make a left, and the last room should be his chamber."

"Right, left, last door. Got it."

England followed accordingly, trying not to trail too far behind. The passages were narrow, and while he didn't think he'd get lost if he stuck close to America, he certainly didn't want test that theory and end up in another makeshift freezer.

The pair came to an intersection and Alfred hesitantly cocked his head around the corner before making a full body turn. England followed suit, and the two repeated this as they walked to the end of the hallway and made a right turn. Both seemed to slow as they found themselves in a long passageway; a sole door looming at the end.

"England, are you sure she was part of the resistance? Are you sure this isn't one big trap?"

Arthur pushed past the American and withdrew the pistol he'd garnered from Toris back at the Braginski mansion.

"Alfred, I honestly don't know anymore, but this is our only shot."

America nodded in agreement and pulled his own weapon. The two trudged down the rest of the hallway in uncomfortable silence; their steps, clad in leather loafers, making the only sounds. When the pair reached the end of the corridor, they were met with a large oak door. Not a word was spoken as the two stared up at the wooden barrier, and a whole minute passed before Alfred gently nudged the Briton, telling him it was time. Arthur nodded sharply and took a step back.

"Have your gun ready," the Brit barked to America.

"Gotcha-"

But before Alfred could finish, England lifted his leg and slammed it against the wood. It crashed, breaking open, as Arthur ducked to dodge any type of gunfire that might've come from the room. Alfred too, knelt, though he held his ground and his pistol in position. The two waited, hearts pounding, but no shots were returned at them. England carefully reached over and eased the door open a tad more, revealing a completely empty study. The two slowly stood back up to full height, and America was the first to panic.

"Shit! England he's not here! He's probably on stage already!"

"Alfred be quiet! The more you talk, the more likely it is we'll get caught, and I'm sure security already heard us break down the door! They're surely looking for us by now!"

"He's like, totally right ya know."

Both spies froze at hearing an unfamiliar voice. It was high pitched and tainted with a strong eastern European accent, and though it didn't sound particularly evil, the words this person spoke sent shivers down both their spines.

"Like seriously, turn around you guys."

Gradually the pair complied, turning warily to face their addressor. To the spies' surprise, while the man was dressed in a Zlo uniform, and aiming a gun at the duo, he didn't look the least bit intimidating. His stance gave off a type of flamboyant persona, and with long flowing hair, England couldn't help but be reminded of France. He bit back the growl that his memory had supplied.

"You two are the spies Ivan's been after, aren't you? He's gonna be totally pissed you're here."

Neither of the two answered, and apprehension settled in between both sides. The three men stood there, eyeing each other down until the blonde guard took a step forward wielding his gun.

"Well nobody likes it when Ivan gets mad. And I like, really don't want him taking it out on me, so I guess that only leaves me with one option."

Alfred glared down at the man but did not raise his own weapon. He was afraid that any sudden move would cause the guard to shoot. Instead, he spoke slowly, trying to compromise.

"You can have me. Take me to Braginski and let the bastard unleash his furry… as long as you let him go," Alfred suggested, motioning toward England.

"America…"

"If you let him leave, I'll drop all my weapons and you can do as you please."

Alfred took a step forward, allowing the gun the other man was yielding to graze his chest. He lowered his own loaded gun to his side, and begged the man with his eyes.

"Deal?"

The tension was unbearable to England, for not only were their lives at risk, but Alfred had just made one of the bravest decisions he had ever seen, and now the git might be killed for it and-

"Oh my god! That was so romantic!" the guard swooned beaming up at Alfred. "Are you two like, together, or was that like an 'I'm gonna die anyway so might as well confess my love' type thing?"

Both spies simply stared at the man bewildered and skeptical as he put his arms akimbo and waited for an answer.

"Oh I see! You guys are still confused! Ok lemme explain. I was never gonna kill you! I'm part of the resistance just like my friend Toris, we're together ya know, but I thought it would be totally funny if I tricked you guys! Now seriously, give me details, who tops?"

Alfred stood there fuming with his mouth agape, and his hands slowly curling in range. England, sensing this, quickly put a hand on his shoulder to try and calm the American.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING, ME?"

The man in the Zlo uniform took a step back in fear, concerned that Alfred might strike.

"WHAT THE HELL KIND OF A JOKE WAS THAT? YOU PRETEND TO KILL US, AND THENJUST SUDDENLY CHANGE YOUR TUNE?"

"Alfred," Arthur soothed, clamping a hand down on his shoulder. "Alfred, calm yourself."

"NO!" Alfred turned to scream at his partner. "DON'T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN WHEN I JUST RISKED MY FUCKING LIFE FOR YOU!"

England's brows knotted in concern. He released Alfred, but pleaded for him to calm with his eyes.

"I'm like… really sorry. I didn't think you'd take it so harshly?" the foreign man tried. "But I like, really am here to help you. I can take you to Ivan."

Alfred released air through his nose, closing his eyes and trying to get his anger to subside. If they hadn't been in the situation they were in, the American would have definitely dealt a few punches to teach this guy a lesson. He opened his eyes gradually, somewhat more calm, as the anger had finally boiled down to mere annoyance.

"Ok," he started gravely. "You will take us to Ivan, and there will be no more jokes along the way."

The man nodded attentively, but then opened his mouth to speak.

"I uh… I can actually only take one of you to Ivan. The other one has to go to the control room."

"The control room?" Alfred started up again. "Why the hell can't we just both take out Bragins-"

"Because someone needs to try to short circuit the power to the speakers just as failsafe," Arthur cut him off. "If the other one can't manage to take down Ivan, we have another chance at saving all those people." He turned to face the uniformed guard, "Is that right?"

The long haired blonde nodded curtly before he answered.

"Yep. If the speakers don't work, he can't set off the bombs."

Alfred was silent as he contemplated this. If one of them went after Ivan, and the other went to the control room, then that meant-

"I'm not leaving you again," Alfred said with a somber expression. "I'm never leaving you again."

"Alfred, you don't understand-"

"No you don't seem to understand!" Alfred yelled while gripping onto England's shoulders. "You said you love me! And, and… I love you as well." He paused and almost paled as he continued, "I don't… I don't want to lose you again…"

"Alfred…" Arthur started softly, as he kept his gaze tight against his partner's. "Listen to me Alfred. There are people out there, hundreds of innocent people out there who are in more danger than I am." He paused to let that sink in. "That's why we came here. Our whole goal was to save all those people. It's the reason we met in the first place. Alfred… this is a responsibility that comes before personal love. Those people are at risk, and if we don't split up and take out Ivan, they will die. I need you to this, ok? I need you to do this for me."

America stared at him, blue eyes full of worry, anxiety and love. He squeezed England's shoulders.

"You've still got your ring?"

"It hasn't left my finger."

"If anything happens to you on your way to the hub, anything at all, you press that ring with all the damn energy you got, ok?"

"Alfred, I-"

Suddenly, clapping, cheering and excited screams could be heard not too far off.

"Ivan must have entered the stage," the guard said fretting. "Come on, we gotta go now."

Alfred nodded but then looked back at England.

"I may not know your real name, but I love you England. I hope you never forget."

"Alfred you make it sound as if you're going to die."

"Please! We have to go! You do like, have a map to the control room right?"

Arthur nodded at the third wheel, and then stepped away from the American.

"Alfred, if you make it through this, you'll learn a lot more than my name."

England lent up and kissed the younger man on the cheek quite feather-like. It was short and gentle, and by the time Alfred was aware of it, it was already gone. The Brit was off, sprinting down the narrow corridors and out of sight. Alfred turned back to the guard.

"For the record, we are together," he paused signaling to the other blonde. "And I intend to keep it that way; now let's go."


Alfred followed directly behind as the resistance member brought him closer and closer to Braginski. It was quite unnerving to think that in just a few moments he'd come face to face with a truly malicious person. This Ivan guy was clearly insane. Who would want to kill hundreds of people for a kick, and then try to rule the airways? Well surely some super villain in a Hollywood movie would want to, but this wasn't Hollywood, no, this was real.

"We're like, almost there," spoke the long-haired blonde. "You better hurry since nobody is sure what phrase will set off the bombs."

"Got it."

The pair stopped at an open doorway and suddenly Alfred could see the stage. He stood at a side entrance, from which presumably, stagehands could scurry through from the back to the front of the arena. On the stage, Alfred could see the cause of all his trouble. Braginski had changed clothes sometime between locking them up and making his way here. He now adorned a very expensive looking suit. Although Alfred noticed, one accessory remained the same; that horrendous lavender scarf.

"I'm uh not sure what I can do for you from here. Just uh… good luck?"

"Thanks, I'm gonna need it."

And without considering the consequences, Alfred sprinted onto the stage.


"Welcome, welcome all of you to the release of Zlo's newest and most innovative creation. Now what you've all received is the latest prototype of that cellular, the Lovushka 320!"

"Oohs" and "Ahs" permeated through the crowd as Ivan Braginski held up the novel device.

"Yes, ladies and gentleman, this is the age of global importance, and today, Zlo industries will help the world acquire its goal of complete global communication. Today, damy i gospoda, the world will become on- UH!"

Gasps and yells were freed from the crowd as they watched the event's keynote speaker be tackled to the floor. The microphone in his hand went flying across the stage as his tall and cumbersome body was sent hurling onto the floor. Atop him was a blonde man, looking absolutely feral, as he pinned the Russian to the ground.

"You!" Braginski hissed as he pushed the American off of him. "How the hell did you get out?"

"I have my ways," Alfred retorted just as harshly as he leapt toward the felon.

Ivan stepped out of the way and caught the American's arm as he tried to land a punch. He twisted it improperly causing Alfred to wince out in pain.

"Did you learn nothing from your little boyfriend? I broke him, and I'll break you too," Ivan mocked as he threw Alfred to the floor. His glasses slid off his face once again, and he could feel a gash in his the side of his face. Something sticky was starting to surge from his cheek.

Alfred tried to get to his feet, but felt the weight of something settle on his back. He attempted to move his arms, but as he swung out, Ivan grabbed his limbs and twisted them behind his back. Alfred cried out in agony, biting his lip, and sucking up his pride.

"I have to say, I'm impressed you got this far," Braginski spoke slowly, accenting each syllable. "But it's too late, da? You've already lost."

Ivan lifted the two of them up off the floor and then threw Alfred's body back down harshly.

"I don't have time for your childish games," he said while walking over to the fallen microphone. "Security!"

"No!" Alfred yelled, getting up. He could see the Russian grasp the amplifier in his hand and ran at him once again. He held his breath as Ivan lifted the microphone to his lips. "No, no! Come on England!"

Ivan opened his mouth and started to speak in his native tongue, but it did not come outamplified. Alfred silently thanked god that the Briton managed to extinguish the power and prevented Ivan's voice from ringing out through the park.

Braginski looked confused now, not quite sure what was going on. He tried to speak again, but at that, Alfred ran and rammed his fist right into the Russian's stomach, halting the flow of words from his mouth. He knocked the air out of him again, causing Braginski to fall afresh, but the Russian refused to relinquish his grip on the amplifier. Alfred pinned him to the ground again, yet Ivan still managed to lift the microphone to his lips once more.

"No matter, I do have a back up generator that should kick in any second now."

The American's eyes widened in horror and realization as a sudden screech was emitted from the microphone. No… no! This wasn't happening.

"Ah, very good," Ivan spoke clearly into the object, no hint of distress apparent in his voice.

Alfred's mind was racing, thinking, reasoning, mulling over any possible solution. He clamped a hand over Ivan's mouth, but that was only a temporary solution as the Russian quickly shoved the obstruction off.

"Think, Alfred, think! Oh god, what do you have? Gun, ring, oh my god!"

Alfred relinquished his hand from where it had attempted to conceal the Russians words, and dug in his pocket for the last remaining gadget he'd been given way back when.

France picked up a small package of chewing gum, "This is extremely adhesive, sticks to absolutely everything besides the wrapper. Do not under any circumstances touch it, but it can be useful in sticky situations."

England snickered as the Frenchman passed the package to America.

"What do you think you're doing France, equipping a child? You haven't given me that chewing gum as a tool since I was 17."

France simply brushed of the comment and smiled, "You never know Angleterre, might come in handy."

America could not believe the immense amount of irony in that conversation as he recalled the exchange of words between France and England. He'd be sure to insist that the Brit never spoke lowly of a childish tool ever again.

Alfred pulled the pack of chewing gum from his trousers and slipped out a stick. He unwrapped it carefully, making sure to touch only the binding, and not actually the gum itself.

Ivan was no longer paying him any mind, holding the microphone to his lips, he was ready to detonate the explosives. Alfred held firmly, and the moment Ivan opened his mouth, he stuck the candy between his teeth.

Braginski squirmed. He tried to open his mouth but to absolutely no avail. The extremely sticky gadget kept his lips locked in place, unable to utter a word. Alfred finally smiled, knowing it was over, he'd won, but now something else was causing him to fret; footsteps. He could hear them, clearly now, coming forward from rows in the audience. He cursed, lifted himself off Braginski but then glanced back down at the villain, not knowing what to do. He couldn't leave him here, for even though his plot to ignite the bombs had failed, he was still considered dangerous. Alfred mentally raked his brain for ideas.

"America!" someone shouted from the door to the stage where he'd entered, and Alfred turned to find Canada standing there. "Come here!"

The young spy wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but since Canada was his top advisor, he followed the instructions and ran backstage. Canada sprinted with him, leading the pair out of the theater and to an unmarked, black car parked outside.

"I'll explain everything later, now g-get in," Canada said as he got into the driver's seat.

"What about Braginski?" Alfred asked a bit distressed.

"The Russian authorities have been a-alerted, and were in the midst of running up on stage as we left. G-get in."

Alfred tried to recall who had been the cause of the footsteps, and realized he didn't really know. He'd just assumed it was guards who worked for Braginski, but perhaps it was the police. He trusted that on Canada's behalf.

"America, get in!"

But Alfred couldn't bring himself to do so.

"What about England?" he questioned with a fervent tone.

"F-France is here as well, h-he'll get him."

And at that moment, Alfred noticed an exact copy of the unmarked car Canada had brought was situated on the other side of the street. It must no doubt belong to France.

"A-America, get in before someone finds us, and the whole agency is compromised!"

Alfred looked back at the entry they'd exited through and then back at the car door. He opened it, and got in but kept his eyes glued on the exit as Canada pulled away. Relief did not wash over him until he made out two sets of blonde hair running frantically from the exit of the stage to the other vehicle.

They'd made it.

They were alive.

But America couldn't help but note with a frown, that they'd completed their affair.


Footsteps hit the cold concrete in sync as two men walked through the dark, shadowed halls of a secret building deep in the heart of London.

"A-America, I'm glad your back. After your last assignment's success, I'm sure you can't wait for your next mission."

Alfred hummed with indifference as he glanced along the lit walkways. His hands were in his pockets, and he tried to look calm, but even Canada could tell he seemed a bit out of sorts.

"W-wow it's only been two w-weeks, can you believe it? F-feels like so much more since you took out Braginski."

America flicked his eyes over to the other man, smiling softly, though still lost in thought.

"Yeah, it feels like ages. Did they ever manage to get the gum to detach from the bastard's mouth?" the blue-eyed man questioned.

"I do believe they're w-working on something. To quote France directly, 'We're working on creating a semen, oh no I'm sorry, a serum to disjoin the substance.'"

Alfred chuckled, yet his mind still seemed to be elsewhere. Canada picked up on this, and set a hand on his coworker's shoulder.

"S-something wrong, America?"

Alfred looked up, and spared only a quick glance at his friend.

"Oh… I was just wondering how England was. I mean… I know that protocol states that once a mission is completed, colleagues must remain separated for at least a fortnight to reduce the risk of the agency being discovered, but…"

"Y-you really liked working with England, d-didn't you?"

America smiled weakly as he felt some colour dot his cheeks. There was still a mark on the right side of his face from the fight with Braginski, but soon it would heal completely.

"Yeah, I did," America mumbled.

"And after all that arguing at the beginning, who would have thought..."

"Yep…" Alfred quietly agreed. "Who would have thought?"

At that the Canadian stopped abruptly and turned to face a large metal door. He slid a key card through a reader to its right and then turned to face the American.

"W-well I have some good news for you then, America."

Alfred paused in his step as well, turning curiously to Canada.

"A surprise?"

Canada pushed open the wrought metal door, and revealed to Alfred his surprise.

In the center of the room stood a sleek black sofa, and seated atop that sofa was someone who made Alfred's face explode into a brilliant smile.

"Hullo, America."

"England!"

The Brit smiled gently as he got up to greet his counterpart, but America ran to him instead. He scooped him up in a hug, crushing him, until the Briton was gasping for air.

"I'll leave you two alone for a bit," Canada suggested as he softly closed the door, and left the two spies to themselves.

Alfred turned the Brit around, and as he took a seat on the couch, he brought England down to straddle his lap.

"I've missed you," America muttered softly, as he nuzzled the Brit's neck. "I haven't seen you since you left for the control room."

England smiled sweetly and kissed Alfred on the tip of the nose.

"Sorry to make you worry. Didn't Canada tell you I got out alright?"

"Well he said France was coming to get you, and when we were leaving, I was pretty sure I saw to blondes run out and into the other unmarked car."

"Well that was us, no doubt. I still don't understand why the frog had to come and get me. I would have much preferred Canada."

Alfred let out a boisterous laugh, and brought England closer, causing the smaller man to blush. The American looked down at the man in his lap, and suddenly something dawned on him.

"How's your hand doing?"

The two of them glanced down in sync at the Briton's right hand, which was now properly bandaged and assisted.

"It's healing. The doctor said somewhere between 6-8 weeks. I won't be able to go on a mission until then."

Alfred looked up from the man's hand to his stunning emerald eyes. He didn't understand why the past two weeks took such a hold on him, but now, now that England was in his arms he knew.

"You know… I'm really glad Braginski tried to take over the world."

"Are you?" the Briton said with a smirk across his face.

Alfred smiled as he pulled England uptight against his chest.

"I am. Ya know why?"

The Brit shook his head, and Alfred smiled once more.

"Because if he hadn't done that, I never would have met you."

England's cheeks blew up into a whirlwind of colour, as a vibrant shade of rose quickly covered his face.

"You're a sentimental fool, you know that?"

The American only grinned at him.

"That may well be, but it's only because I love you England."

Alfred leaned in to plant a kiss on long awaited British lips, but instead was met with a palm.

"You don't love England," the Briton said, trying to do away with the blush on his cheeks.

"I don't?" the American furrowed his brows, confused.

"You love Arthur. Arthur Kirkland."

Alfred couldn't help but let a very happy grin spread across his lips. He wasn't quite sure whether he was elated over the fact that England had told him his real name, or the fact that he'd fallen in love, or even just that any of this had happened in the first place. Either way, he couldn't remember feeling happier than he did at this very moment.

"But Alfred, remember," Arthur whispered gently against his lips. "This affair is confidential."

And they consented with a kiss.