[Fan Fiction] Revenge
Title: Revenge
Genre: Comedy
Pairing(s)/Characters: America, Russia, Alaska
Rating/Warnings: G
Summary: Alaska takes revenge against her Dad.
The house was quiet as a tomb as Aleu snuck down the stairs.
A deviant smile was on her face as she lugged the boombox down the stairs, the radio weighing almost as much her small, six-year-old’s body. She paused once to push her dark sunglasses back on top of her head, and once more to rescue her CD case from falling to the bottom of the staircase.
After all, she didn’t want to wake anyone up just yet.
The small Alaskan state finally made it down to the bottom of the stairs, and had a much easier time draggin the boombox across the hall floor and into the living room. She had to stand on a chair to reach the light, and once she did she plugged her boombox in. Her smile widened as she popped open the boombox and popped in her Beatles CD.
Smirking as she slid her sunglasses down in front of her eyes, Aleu found the song she was looking for and hit the ‘play’ button after also hitting the ‘repeat’ button. She turned the volume up as far as it would go.
Another smirk came onto her face as the song started. Dad was going to regret taking away the sledge that Father had given her. Oh, yes, he was.
‘Flew in from Miami Becah BOAC, didn’t get to bed last night….’
~*~*~*~*~*~
Ivan woke from his sleep, a vague noise penetrating his ear. He was certain he recognized it, but wasn’t sure where from. He sat up, his action disturbing the American laying next to him.
“What is it?” Alfred murmured sleepily.
“Noise,” Ivan answered. He listened, this time comprehending that the noise was, in fact, music. “Music, actually.”
A groan, and Alfred sat up, his eyes squeezed shut as he listened.
‘Oh, the way the paper bag was on my knees, man, I had a dreadful flight, I’m back in the USSR! You don’t know how luck you are, boy! Back in the USSR!’
A low growl and Alfred said, “Oh hell no.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Aleu, knowing she’d awakened her fathers, was still smirking as she danced around the boombox, singing along with the music.
“Been away so long I hardly knew the place! Gee, it’s good to be back home!” she sang loudly in her high pitched voice. “Leave it till tomorrow to unpack my case, honey, disconnect the phone! I’m back in the USSR! You don’t know how lucky you are, boy!”
Oooh, Dad was so not going to be happy.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Alfred growled again and started to get out of bed, but was stopped by Ivan’s iron grip. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the Russian had a small smile on his face.
“Leave her,” he said.
“Ivan, it’s three-thiry in the morning!”
“Well, let the song finish, and then I’ll go downstairs and get her.”
Alfred pouted and muttered something ugly about songs about communists. Ivan merely smiled; he could hear his daughter’s small voice singing along, and he hummed the tune as the song continued.
‘Well, the Ukraine girls really knock me out, they leave the west behind! And Moscow girls make me sing and shout, that Georgia’s always always on my m-m-m-m-mind!’
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Aleu was already getting tired. Her young body just couldn’t handle being up this late for long. She was determined to finish the song, though.
“Oh, show me round your snow peaked mountains way down south, take me to your daddy’s farm!” she sang. “Let me hear your balalaikas ringing out, come and keep your comrade warm!”
With the last word, she sank to her knees and fell asleep with a triumphant smirk on her face.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The song ended, and Ivan was still smiling as he pulled on his robe. Alfred pouted again, and snuggling under the covers, he muttered, “In the morning, I’m calling the orphanage.”
“No you won’t,” Ivan said, a purr in his voice as he said the statement with all the confidence of a businessman who just made an excellent sale.