Author's Note: Damn am I sleepy… Since I finished my chapter story, 'Pasta Delivery', I decided to make a oneshot. It was meant to be an angst fic… Whatever, enjoy!

"Freeze, Braginski!" yelled American Officer Alfred Jones, pointing his pistols at the Russian assassin. Ivan Braginski stopped, finding himself at a dead end. He turned around, an innocent smile on his face.

"Officer Jones," he said, childishly happy, "it's such a pleasure to see you again, da!"

"The feeling ain't mutual," growled Jones. Braginski pouted.

"Oh dear comrade! Don't be such a spoilsport! I thought I had staged the perfect 'hero' scene… I know you joined the полиция, you call them police in America, because you wanted to be a hero~" said Braginski mockingly. Jones 'tch'-ed.

"You dipshit! There's nothing perfect about this! Not since…" Jones trailed off, looking at his feet. He snapped his head up, staring at the insane man. "Why did you do it?"

"Mm? What did I do?" asked Russia, tilting his head in confusion.

"Don't you give me that shit! Why did you shoot Matthew Williams?!" shouted Jones, voice trembling slightly. Russia smiled cruelly.

"Ah, Officer Williams. He was your twin brother, da? He's great on horseback. Chased me for quite a while in the mountains with a horse, a gun, and a polar bear. But I have to say, comrade, his death is your fault."

"What do you mean, you insane bastard?!"

"Well, the moment Vargas died, I needed to see you suffer, Jones." Jones' eyes widened.

"Vargas? Veniciano Vargas? The grandson of the Mafia leader?" said Jones, confused. "What does he have to do with anything?"

"Really, Americans are as stupid as they say back home," said Russia, sounding exasperated. "Vargas was a pretty good friend of mine. He was a coward, and fears almost everything except food. But a coward can be more dangerous than a hero. His desire to see another day was quite admirable. He once told me that one day, when the Mafia finally had control of a good deal of countries, he would open a pasta shop."

"Stop drawling, and get to the point, Braginski."

"Well, it's simple. You left me very hurt by taking away one of my friends, so I decided to hurt you." Jones choked, holding back tears.

"Your motive… was… revenge?!" said Jones infuriated. Braginski shrugged.

"Da, pretty much."

"You… YOU INSANE, DRUNK MANIAC!" Braginski smiled amusedly.

"Mm, that's a pretty good insult, comrade," he said. Suddenly the blaring of a horn sliced through the night. Jones barely dodged the car. He grunted when the car slammed on his left arm. Braginski smiled. "Goodbye, Officer Jones~ I hope we meet again~" He slipped into the car. From the back window, Jones could see Braginski waving goodbye. The car drove off. Jones shot the car, but the bullets just flew off the windows.

"Bulletproof," muttered Jones. He looked at the ground, angry at himself for letting the assassin escape. He noticed something on the ground. A red maple leaf. Jones couldn't handle it anymore. He fell to his knees and screamed.

In the car, Braginski smiled at his Lithuanian driver when he heard the screaming.

"I say I did I pretty good job, da Toris?" the Russian asked his driver. Toris gulped.

"Yes sir," he said, voice barely audible. Braginski started laughing maniacally as the car approached the airport.

Author's Note: I FAIL. Sorry, I just HAD to stuff Lithuania in somewhere~ I should stick to writing comedy, da?