Okay guys I know you are all anxiously awaiting an Ouran or Cowboy Bebop update but I had done this oneshot a couple of weeks ago but I kept forgetting to post it, also my grandmother just passed away so don't expect an update too soon. I'm really sorry, enjoy the oneshot.


Natalya rolled over in the bed, keeping her eyes closed she began to think. I want to stay a little longer, she thought as she snuggled deeper into the strong pair of arms that held her.

Ivan, she sighed I knew we were meant to be together; those feelings I had for Alfred were merely my imagination.

She turned to look at the nation beside her.

Her eyes nearly vacated her skull. "ALFRED!" she screamed, jarring him awake.

"What's wrong Natalya?" a look of worry crossed his face. "Is everything alright?"

"No it is not!" she shrieked jumping out of bed. She gawked at her naked body and when she looked up she could see Alfred's chest. His nice, chiseled chest. NO! She scolded herself. She glanced up at him once more and noticed that the blanket covered his manly bits. She was met with mixed feelings of relief and disappointment.

I slept with Alfred, she didn't want to believe herself, I slept with ALFRED!

Her mind screamed no, but her body ached for his presence. Her body missed the way his fit so perfectly with hers.

"Kachannie?" he said, the concern laced in his voice.

"Don't call me love," she snarled grabbing her clothes.

He looked confused. "Last night you said that you wanted me to call you that."

Her face paled and she whirled around to face him. "I said no such thing," she said pointing to him with her bra.

She turned back around and quickly strapped on her bra. As she stood there in her underwear, preparing to slip on her dress, she felt Alfred wrap his arms around her.

"Don't go," he whispered, pressing his body against hers. Natalya shivered in response and she could feel his warm breath on her ear as he chuckled.

"I don't think you want to go either."

That is where you're wrong, you stupid American! She elbowed Alfred in the stomach, he gasped and recoiled.

"You had better put pants on right now." As much as Alfred wanted to disobey her he didn't.

"The pants, well boxers really, are on," he said.

She spun around once more. "You listen closely idyjot," she hissed, "what happened last night was due to a lapse in judgment on my part. This will not repeat." With that she slipped on her dress and headed for the door.

"Natalya wait!" Alfred called after her. She stopped but did not turn around. "I don't want to lose you," he said quietly.

"I'm already gone," she answered curtly.

She stepped out into the cold winter night. The bright lights of Times Square could be seen in the distance.

"Disgusting," she said as she recalled the events from last night. "My beloved brother, I have betrayed you." She blinked up at the stars. "Will you ever forgive me?"

She began walking towards Times Square, where she knew that there would be a small army of taxis willing to take her to the airport. As she trudged through the snow her body convulsed with shivers. She was used to the cold, yes, but not without any sort of coat.

Her thoughts began to trail to Alfred, as she thought about the night before.

They had been at Alfred's Christmas party, she had been drinking eggnog. She was pretty sure that the American had put some type of alcohol in it but she drank it all the same. She sat alone at her table, Ivan had run off somewhere.

She watched as people danced, she actually smiled when Francis tried to grope everyone and was severely beaten by Arthur and Alfred. She sourly noted how happy Roderich and Elizaveta were. Why can't brother and I be like that? She wondered. She continued to observe everyone, unaware that she had begun to tap her foot.

Eventually Alfred approached her, a pink tinge to his cheeks. "Hey Natalya," he rubbed the back of his head nervously, "I noticed you sitting here by yourself. Where is Ivan?"

She shrugged. "Off trying to reclaim Toris from Feliks or something, who cares?" she took another swig of her eggnog.

Alfred grinned. "That so? Well," he bowed to her and held out his hand, "would you care to dance with me?"

Natalya stared at his grinning face. Why not? It wouldn't hurt. So she took his hand and he led her out to the dance floor. He placed a hand on her waist and held on securely to one of her hands. A slow waltz began to play. As they swirled around the dance floor Alfred had a smile seemingly glued to his face.

"What is so funny?" she asked laughing, in spite of herself.

"I'm just really enjoying myself right now. I was afraid that I wouldn't have the guts to ask you to dance."

She looked at him quizzically. He just smiled sweetly in response.

"I've noticed you for a while now, Natalya," he said.

Her heart jumped. She had surely noticed him. How many times did her eyes stray from her beloved brother to the American's form? Once? Twice? Hundreds of times? It seemed that at every one of their summit meetings, as of late, she could only stare at Alfred.

Her mind would be filled with thoughts of the American. When she went home at the end of those exhausting weeks she could still clearly picture his smile. A contagious smile that was warm and full of love. She could see the corners of his eyes crinkle every time he flashed that heartwarming smile.

She would fall asleep at night trying to imagine his voice, his laugh. She could listen to him talk for all eternity. Dancing with him now was like a dream. Except that it wasn't.

She, Natalya Arlovskaya, in love with Alfred F. Jones? Preposterous, she loved her brother; surely Ivan was her true love.

Loved, that is past tense which implies that you are no longer in love with Ivan. A nagging voice in her head sounded.

Shut up, I still love Ivan. Don't I?

You just questioned it. It seems your love in Ivan is not as unwavering as you want it to be, the nagging voice continued.

Natalya shook her head. She was not about to have an internal power struggle. Alfred tilted his head and looked worriedly at her.

"Natalya? Are you okay?" she looked up into his worried face and smiled.

He looked so cute, she wanted to kiss him. She wanted to see if his lips were as soft as they appeared.

I am in love with Alfred F. Jones, she admitted to herself. There was no denying it, she was irrevocably in love.

She shuddered as she recalled the passionate kissing, the frantic clawing, desperately trying to remove his clothes. His mouth all over her body and the warmth she felt all over, so hot that she thought she was on fire.

She looked up to see that she had wandered into Central Park. She felt a tear slide down her face, she began to run.

"I've noticed you for a while now, Natalya,"

His smile, his voice, his laugh, his entire body…

"Kachannie?"

"I don't want to lose you,"

The sadness in his voice and the pain on his face when she said

"I'm already gone,"

She ran swiftly through Central Park, the tears cascading down her face.

Alfred, Alfred, Alfred,

"Natalya!" she froze at the sound of her name, she didn't want to turn around. She squeezed her eyes shut and fervently prayed that Alfred would just leave.

"Natalya, I don't understand what happened back there. I know you'll probably call me an idiot again but I thought," He paused "Aw hell, I don't know, I thought that maybe you reciprocated my feelings. At least it felt like you did.

"If you were just using me for the sex, then screw you. I love you Natalya Arlovskaya, if I'm nothing more than a good time to you then let me know."

She couldn't, she wouldn't say anything. Maybe he'll go away, she thought desperately.

"You're not," she squeaked, surprised that she spoke.

"Then what am I to you?" he demanded.

She turned herself to face him. Her body did not want to listen to her. She didn't answer.

He looked hurt, and it killed Natalya to know that she was the cause of that pain. He sighed.

"So I'm not just being used for sex yet you won't tell me why you're gone?"

She stared at him. It was now or never. She could tell the man she loved that she returned his feelings or stay quiet and lose him forever.

"I love you!" she screamed. "You're all I think about! Yours is the last voice I hear before I fall asleep, I love the way you laugh, I love your smile, I love your blue eyes and your blonde hair, I even love the obnoxious way you refer to yourself as the hero, I just love being near you, and I love the way you hold me!" the tears had by no means stopped, in fact they intensified.

Alfred ran to her and gathered her in his arms.

"If you're gone, then you need to come home," he whispered.

She clutched him tightly. You are my home.