AN: Hey guys! The russiamerica LJ community did an art-and-fic-a-thon to commemorate the Cuban Missile Crisis. Each day we were given a prompt and 24 hours to finish it. I'm just posting up what I managed to come up with from that event. Enjoy!

[October 15 Prompt: Look to the Sky]

"So what time is this show supposed to start anyway?"

"Be patient. We will not be able to see anything until the sky gets a little darker."

"Bleh, waiting. My least favorite thing. Come on, Halley's Comet! We don't have all night!"

"Ah? We have blankets, food and vodka. I would be quite happy to stay where I am for a long time."

"Shut up, Russia! Don't let the comet know that or it'll really take its time getting here!"

"Oh, apologies. Comet, I am miserable out here. Please appear soon and end my suffering."

"You don't have to be that dramatic about it," America chuckled. He grabbed a piece of cheese from their food stash (positioned conveniently next to their comet-watching blanket) and nibbled at a corner. Truth be told, he wasn't minding the waiting all that much. Russia had found a perfect spot for comet-viewing, a nice open flat space outside his capital where you could get a better look at the sky than you could in the city. It was a little chillier than America would have liked, but sometimes you just had to put up with that if you wanted to hang out with Russia.

"So would you call this a tradition for us?" America asked when the space between them went too quiet. "We've only done this once before, but-"

"If we keep watching the comet together every year it comes, then I would consider it to be. After tonight, we may call it tradition, I think."

"Do you remember the first year we watched Halley together? Well, the only time, but you know what I mean."

"1835."

"You do remember!"

"Or I can subtract 75 years from 1910 very quickly in my head." America's face fell so utterly that Russia quickly amended, "Of course I remember, I am only joking. We were in Philadelphia together, da?"

It hadn't been planned, the first year. It was only chance that Russia had been there for a meeting at that exact time...but all the same, they stood side by side on top of a building in the November chill, craning their necks backward to the sky until it was almost painful to watch any more.

"Yeah, that was fun. I didn't know you all that well back then. Thought you were a bit of a weirdo." America snickered to himself. "'Course, now I know you're a bit of a weirdo."

"And you are as insufferable as you were the day I met you," Russia said cheerfully, reaching for a half empty bottle of vodka next to the blanket.

America glanced up. The sky was getting darker with each passing moment. "Think it's gonna be time soon?"

"I think so. Not much longer now."

"Wish we had a telescope. I forgot to bring one."

"Wait. I grabbed one before we came out here. It is a little unconventional, but still a telescope!" Russia rolled off the blanket to inspect their impressive little mountain of snacks and hard liquor gathered for the occasion, pulled a bulky package out and started unwrapping.

"Good man, always thinking ahead," America grinned...until he got a look at the telescope. Then his eyes bugged. "What is that?"

"A telescope," Russia answered innocently, attempting to set it up.

"But it-it's too shiny! Is it made of gold or something?"

"Ah, maybe only gold plated-"

"It has jewels stuck to the side of it! Where the hell did you find that thing?"

"If you must know," Russia said with great dignity, "I borrowed it. From my boss. Without asking. But it is not as though anyone ever uses this one anyway. It is mostly a decoration, but I forgot to get a normal telescope sooner, and I though, 'ah, this one is functional, it will do in a pinch.' I am being resourceful."

"So, what? You raided your royal family's crown jewels to get an ultra fancy-schmancy telescope to watch a comet with me?"

Russia fidgeted. "Possibly."

"...That's actually pretty awesome. But man, those royalty guys always spend money on the wackiest stuff. You could eat for a year if you sold that!"

Russia's eyes went hard and distance. "Hm." He had been saying that a lot lately, usually when the subject of money or his boss came up. There seemed to be something sitting heavily on his mind, but he never gave a straight answer when America asked.

"Hey, knock off that brooding," he snapped, breaking off a piece of cheese and tossing it at Russia's head.

"I was not brooding," Russia grumbled, brushing cheese crumbs out of his hair. "I was thinking."

"You were frowning while you were thinking. That makes it brooding. No brooding allowed on Comet-Watching Night."

Russia's expression darkened, and for an awful second America thought they were going to get into another one of those arguments they had been having all too often lately. The disaster was averted when Russia glanced up, perhaps just to gather his thoughts. His face cleared in an instant.

"Ah, look! There it is!"

America followed Russia's gaze. There, he could see it too, a bright glowing ball trailing across the inky sky. It was hypnotizing, otherworldly, and for a long moment neither said a word. America finally lay back on the blanket when his neck began to ache, and after a moment he heard shuffling as Russia followed suit and stretched out beside him, laying just a tiny bit closer than friends should.

Finally, America gave a low whistle. "Look at that, will you. Even prettier than it was in 1835! Makes you feel like a little ant, doesn't it? Well, maybe not you. I'm a normal ant, but you're like the great big queen ant that sits around and lays eggs all day."

"I have many better things to do than lay eggs." America couldn't tear his eyes away from the comet, but he could hear the grin in Russia's voice. "I doubt any egg I laid would taste very good anyway."

"It'd probably be vodka-flavored," America agreed sagely. "Okay! Next time, we watch the comet at my place. First year was at my place, second was at yours, third is gonna be at mine again. We can take turns with this thing."

"Let me think...the comet comes every 75 or 76 years, and so...1985 or 1986?"

"Ha! That sounds so far in the future. By then I bet we'll have a plane that can fly all the way to the comet!"

"Now this I have difficulty imagining."

"Ye of little faith! We have 76 years to build one that's up to the job. Mark my words, next time this comes around, we...we can fly up to the moon and watch the comet from there! Can you imagine the view! And we can eat moon cheese, so we don't have to worry about bringing snacks either."

"Does moon cheese go well with vodka?"

"Only one way to find out! 1986, man! It's gonna be great."

"Do you think we will still want to do this 76 years from now?"

America frowned. Russia was looking broody again. No, worse than broody. He looked sad. "What are you talking about? Are you going to stop liking comets by then?"

"Nyet. But things can change. We can change."

"Yeah, well, unless a huge earthquake hits and we both sink into the ocean, let's plan to watch the comet again. Okay?"

Russia's smile was a tad crooked, but sincere. "Da."

"Good. Quit being gloomy. I dunno what's eating you, but everything's gonna be just fine. Hey, let's try out your fancy-schmancy telescope!"

Notes:
Halley's Comet is visible from Earth with the naked eye, and cycles around ever 75-76 years. Unfortunately, 1986 had the worst conditions for viewing Halley's Comet in recorded history. Go figure.
The stuff about the telescope is made up, but considering how fancy the Romanovs made their Easter eggs, I can easily imagine them having a hoity-toity telescope too. Why not.