This is super duper history filled, so here's some basic background information. This story is about the German-Soviet pact signed in August 1939 that partitioned Poland for the 4th time. Also, the Ukraine was part of Russia at this time.

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They say they need space, space to live and work and grow, and who has more space than Russia? You're not even using it.

He clutches her tighter. They don't know anything.

Germany is flirting with Poland, Poland who's almost as bad as Germany, who proclaims neutrality then snaps up Germany's leftovers when he's done with Czechoslovakia, who already went after her once, and Russia hasn't forgotten that yet.

In the night, she mumbles things against his chest, and he pets the short hair that's fanned out on the pillow. They'll never even get close.

He won't let them.

Pravda prints an article – "Hitler Will Not Touch Our Ukraine!" They don't know anything.

Now Germany cries innocent! At a New Year's party, Hitler shakes hands with the ambassador and Stalin hears: "Germany entertains no designs on the Ukraine at the present time."

Of course not, he whispers in her ear. No one is allowed to but me.

May comes, and Vyaschev Mikailovich Molotov is appointed Foreign Commissar. His face is soft and white as a new snowfall, but his eyes cut sharp as the words that come out of his mouth. A smile of Siberian winter, says Churchill.

That's wrong. Siberian winter isn't the smile of some fat diplomat – it's her long, long legs, pale as fresh snow; it's her arched neck, the color of clouds after a storm. He's angry at the comparison, but she silences him with a laugh and kisses, soft as snowflakes.

In June, winter is the farthest away it ever is (only in the back of his mind!) and England realizes that maybe he should stop pleasing Germany and, guilty as hell, his diplomats come to talk to Molotov. The back door is open at all the meetings – the Russian government can hear every word you say!

But you can't fool Russia! He knows what England's up to, and Molotov stalls until he makes him show his hand – by the middle of July, the whole world knows England's been trying to buy off Germany. "A Billion Pounds!" scream the headlines.

Are you really trying to protect me? she says when she hears. Without England –

He strokes her hair, almost as short as his. I'll protect you.

But he's poor, and every day Germany gets stronger. Of course he isn't scared! But England won't be reasonable, and with Czechoslovakia gone, and the Baltics not letting him help them (why had Latvia looked like he was going to cry when he'd offered? He was being nice) all that stands in between Germany and her is Poland. You can't trust Poland. Poland wants her just as much as Germany (although Germany wants Poland too, for dessert if not an appetizer.)

So on June 26th, after a year of teasing, playing games like lovers with the newspapers – not like lovers, he reassures her, although she wasn't worried – Russian diplomats and German diplomats meet in a restaurant – in Berlin, but maybe they can't help that.

She asks, was it promising?

He shrugs, nods. He doesn't like it. Now Russia will be Germany's dessert – he can't stop it like this.

So he lets England try again, but England still won't be serious! Look at who he's sending this time – Admiral the Honorable Sir Reginald Aylmar Ranfurly Plunkett-Ernle-Erle-Drax, RN. Don't joke! Nobody's ever heard of him except himself, no matter how right he looks. Molotov turns his icy eyes on the British ambassador when he tells him. Are you deliberately misunderstanding the Soviet Union? He leaves the room without so much as a goodbye.

Germany sees his cue – as England drags his feet, the German ambassador meets with Molotov. They play those conversation-games that Russia will never understand, and somehow both sides come away happy.

I think you should try harder with England, she says, frowning.

He needs to try harder, he insists. I'm being reasonable. I'm being reasonable. They all get to talk to Molotov, don't they? I'm not sending any Admiral Draxes.

And when the good Admiral does show up, he's late. Russia is not impressed.

She looks worried. Don't give up on him yet.

They were a day late, he tells her. It's practically winter by now.

She laughs at him and gives him her snowflake kisses. It's only August 10th.

General Winter just wants to prove him wrong, so the temperature shoots up the next day. Good Admiral Drax is left sweating in all the wrong clothes and coughing the cigarette smoke. Poor Admiral Drax. He's meeting with the Commissar for Defense, Marshal Kliment Yefremovich Voroshilov.

I like him, she says. He's from, well, me, you know.

Russia likes him too. He isn't very smart, but at least he doesn't pretend he is. (At least that's what Tukhachevsky says, but we executed Tukhachevsky, so maybe…) Anyway, that makes him better than good Admiral Drax, right?

The British delegates are convinced their rooms are bugged. Of course they are!

Maybe you should trust them? Her eyebrows are drawn down, lines forming on her forehead. They did agree to tell you all the military figures.

They don't trust me! he says angrily. They never trust me! And their army – only four divisions ready. Germany will wipe them out in a week! This is not any way to protect you.

He knows Germany will attack Poland – he's poised to leap before summer's over, before the month is out. Don't joke! The good Admiral is stupid again – "Poland will fall within two weeks." Russia can't move his troops that fast. He needs to be able to move into Poland now. They won't trust him! They're waiting for permission from the Poles. (Poland will never let the Red Army near him. They don't trust him!)

Diplomacy makes my head hurt, he tells her as he tries to smooth out the lines between her eyes.

It will all work out. But she doesn't sound too sure.

Russia gives up on England and France – now Germany is the favorite! Who wants to make a pact with the enemy? But England just won't do anything. (They let Voroshilov keep talking to the Admiral, though. Just in case, you know.)

Everything suddenly moves so quickly. A week after Admiral Drax shows up late, Germany is agreeing to everything. But be careful! Molotov takes hours to return their calls. No need to rush when you're the one being pursued.

Two more days pass, and Germany is almost frantic (what's the rush?) The ambassador proposes a stupidly simple treaty. That isn't how we do things! We must be thorough.

Are you sure this is smart? The lines between her eyes deepen.

He shrugs. I don't understand it anyway, anymore. Trust Stalin!

Stalin intervenes with an hour of the proposal – no, we like it! We will sign!

Diplomacy makes my head hurt, Russia sighs again, but she doesn't look as worried anymore. That's all that matters, right?

What's going on now? Hitler writes a letter to Stalin. He's almost begging – move up the date for signing the pact! August 22nd, or August 23rd at the latest. That's two days away! (What's the rush?) Stalin agrees, though. Why not?

So Joachim von Ribbentrop, the Foreign Minister, flies out to meet with Molotov. If our Molotov is a chisel, their Ribbentrop is a hammer – good for nothing but pounding in the same message over and over, but what do you expect? (The good Admiral leaves. No use in him staying. Poland won't agree to anything. Stupid! They still don't think war is coming. They don't know anything.)

The wrinkles on her forehead smooth out. Something is finally happening!

Ribbentrop meets Stalin and Molotov. Something is finally happening! He's added a bunch of shit about friendship at the front of the pact – Stalin smiles and removes it. We all know what we've been saying about each other before this year. The rest of the pact is fine, correct, acceptable, and Poland has been eaten in minutes. Narev, Vistula, San – this is Germany, this is Russia. Poland's gone!

Look, he tells her, see where it used to be? They stole that land from you, but it's back now.

She smiles.

A toast! (Vodka, of course, but Stalin drinks water. He is so smart! We Russians won't be fooled.) To Hitler! To Ribbentrop! To Stalin! To new relations! To friendship, to friendship, to friendship!

It's so late that it's actually early when they finally sign. Molotov first – his icy eyes are hidden in the photographs, but Stalin smiles down at him like a kindly uncle. Ribbentrop looks slightly unsure – does he know something?

She cheers when she hears, rains snowflake kisses on him. You did it! she says. Who's scared of Germany now? You did it!

It wasn't me, he insists modestly. He doesn't understand politics. But the pact makes promises. Russia will not attack Germany. Germany will not attack Russia (attack her.) And Germany is loyal, Germany is honorable, Germany doesn't break promises. He's finally really protected her now.

Right?

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Sorry, Russia, Germany might be honorable, but Hitler is a lying little bitch. That pact only lasted about two years before Germany invaded the Ukraine anyway. Oh well.

Okay, HISTORICAL NOTES. Major historical notes.

Everything in here is true, except what I tell you about. The vast majority of information in here comes from a book called The Deadly Embrace. Go read it if you care. It's about 600 pages long.

"Germany is flirting with Poland…" Germany and Russia both tried to get Poland on their side in 1938. Poland wouldn't do anything – they were too scared of both sides.

"…who already went after her once…" In 1920, Poland attacked and scored some land off of Russia. This is right after Poland was reformed following WWI. It just so happened to be reformed out of Russia and Germany. Oh Poland.

"Pravda prints an article…" Pravda is a Soviet propaganda newspaper. This quote is an outright lie - I highly doubt they ever printed an article like this.

"England realizes that maybe he should stop pleasing Germany…" England had a major policy of appeasement at this time. They let Hitler get away with anything he wanted.

'"A Billion Pounds!" scream the headlines…." England really did try to pay off Germany – meanwhile, they only offered Poland 8 million, and they were supposed to be allied with them.

"…and the Baltics not letting him help them…" Well, come on, it WAS Russia.

"But England won't be reasonable…" Actually, it was Molotov who kept nitpicking and making the Brits submit to new demands all the time. On the other hand, the Brits DID keep sending these idiots, like…

"Admiral the Honorable Sir Reginald Aylmar Ranfurly Plunkett-Ernle-Erle-Drax, RN…" I AM NOT KIDDING. Best name ever. Only in England.

"At least that's what Tukhachevsky says…" Marshal Tukhachevsky, executed in the purges of 1936-38.

"…and Germany is almost frantic (what's the rush?)" The rush was because Hitler had already committed to attack Poland on August 26th or so. When the Russians suggest the pact get signed on the 27th, that didn't work out too well for Germany.

"Narev, Vistula, San…" The rivers that divided the Russian and German areas of Poland. In other words, the Molotov-Ribbentrop line.