When he entered the vehicle, America quickly noticed a bag with the signature golden arches proudly printed on it. He closed the car door with a light slam and settled in his seat. Grabbing the bag, he opened it and as soon as the smell wafted into his nose he quickly threw the bag down on the car floor. He laid his hand on his stomach and looked mournfully at the discarded bag. "Not today, not today." He whispered lowly as he wiped a tear from his eye. Giving the bag one last final look, he turned his attention to the window with a disappointed sigh.

He watched his people walking, talking, waiting, playing, laughing, heck even some were skipping and singing at this early hour. Feeling a smile roll its way up his face he sat back into his seat. This was nice. Not doing anything and letting the happiness of his people wash over him. He can even tell his driver, Jeff, was in a good mood. Days like these are so far and few that he can't help but to drown himself in it, just to make this feeling last longer. And just to think, if he allowed that monster to roam free, he would never have this peace. The one thing that can make him smile genuinely at his people. Looking out the window again, his smile dropped almost instantly.

They were now riding through the White House's large gates, and now headed for the equally large doors of the underground parking lot. Seeing as it only took a few minutes for this to transpire, America found himself right in front of the doors to the Oval Office. A mere foot from his boss and Russia no less. And, for a fleeting moment, America thought he could turn right around and escape but that idea was quickly taken from him.

"Ah, Comrade! We've been waiting for you! How rude to keep a guest waiting!" Russia said cheerfully as he opened the door.

It took all he's worth to not glare back; instead, he plastered on a smile and grinned at the tall Russian. "It's good to see you too, Russki!" He laughed as he pushed the door open wider and walked in.

He quickly greeted his boss and went over the final steps and procedures that were made to ensure their guest's safety and approval. At this point, America wouldn't have cared if the driver drove them off a fucking cliff. At least it would've ended quickly. But maybe death wasn't the answer? Maybe a nice warm bed he could lose himself in for hours would be better? At least the outcome wouldn't result in some kind of war. Inwardly shrugging, America simply went through the motions, which was a lot easier to do then paying attention, and was already walking toward the doors. Russia had left the room for something or other; he couldn't bring himself to care much. They were in the WHITE HOUSE, he was sure the Russian wouldn't get in any trouble, considering it was such well-guarded place.

Before the blonde's hand brushed the door knob, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around accordingly, and looked at his boss's softened and wrinkled face.

"Take it easy will you? You have a whole month to finish this so rest up." He said sternly, looking his country in the eye.

America gave a small smile nodded his head. "Sure thing boss."

His boss gave one final and light squeeze on his shoulder before letting him go and returning to his own desk which had paper work that still needed to be completed. America opened the door and walked out, and just when he did, he wasn't surprised to see a certain Russian smiling from across the hallway. He stared at him for a few seconds, studying him for no special reason, and released a sigh.

"Come on. We have work to do." He said finally and began walking down the hall, Russia followed leisurely behind him. They moved silently except for the dull clacking of their shoes and soon made it back to the vehicle. Once inside, Russia decided to speak up.

"How have you been?" He asked causally, like it was natural to ask him such a simple question. Like it was necessary to ask how he was doing when he knew how goddamn well he was doing! How dare this frozen heart bastard tease him like this! Even with that thought in mind, he threw a smile at the monster in front of him and replied.

"I've been pretty awesome." He said easily, missing the slight arch of the other's bro. "What's up with you?"

"I have been doing fine as well." Russia said with another almost strained smile. He received a nod and a low hum. Sensing that that was all the talking they were going to do right now, Russia turned his attention to the car window that showed the sun that was finally showing it's golden hue, instead of the red and orange that painted the sky. He sat back in his seat with a soft expression as he watched the sky settle into its normal blue tint that almost always promises a good day, which was somewhat true for his case. Whenever there wasn't a terrible blizzard that General Winter made and the sky was clear of any clouds was on rare occasions; he never felt more alive than the hours that it lasted.

He would have continued with these delightful thoughts if it wasn't for the smell of one of those disgusting bags that were always filled with what the American thought food was. Glancing down, he immediately spotted the discarded bag on the car floor. Looking at it more closely, Russia could tell there was still food in it, which was very unusual, especially if America wasn't even sitting a foot away from it.

The frost ridden nation raised his gaze to the blonde in question. He was looking out at the window like he was, but he wasn't looking at the sky. The corner of his lip was upturned in such a way; he would have thought he was in pain rather than being in peace. He just studied the American, watching the inner turmoil that was dancing behind those reflective blue eyes. Then suddenly, his smile, if it can even be called that, dropped and his face was completely guarded. He faced the Russian with a blank expression.

"We're here," Was all he said before the car stopped and he opened the door and slid out. Silently, Russia did the same and followed behind him, tugging his carry-on inside the house.

"Now," America started as he led them into the kitchen, "You are free to use the kitchen as much as you want, just make sure to clean up after yourself."

Russia nodded uninterestedly.

"There's not much in the fridge because I'm gonna let you fill it with whatever ya want later today." The blonde said plainly as he looked out the kitchen window distractedly.

Somewhat surprised by the seemingly selfless gesture, Russia walked over to the refrigerator and opened it. He closed it again and few seconds later he opened it again.

"Amerika?"

He jumped as if he hadn't notice the Russian in his kitchen. "H-Huh? Yeah? What is it?"

"There's only a full gallon of milk and a few potatoes in here." He said as he stared into the white icebox questionably. Almost like, if he stared hard enough food would magically appear. All the times he has been over this American's house, the refrigerator has always been packed. In fact, he doesn't even remember the back of it, and now it looks like a starving man was living here. With that thought, he turned to face the other and since he traded his old leather bomber jacket for a skinner coat, indeed he looked a bit . . . thin.

"Like I said, I was going to take you shopping for groceries. " He said simply with an indifferent shrug.

Russia picked up the gallon and glanced at it with a grimace, "This milk has been expired for a month now."

He received another apathetic shrug before the American turned around and started to walk away. "Come on, I'll show you to your room."

He glanced at the empty refrigerator once more before sighing and trudging behind the blonde up the stairs. When they reached the second floor, America walked over to one of closed doors and pointed to it. "This is my room." He then turned toward the other rooms that littered that floor.

"And your room is the one with the door opened. I'm going back to sleep so," He checked his watch, which read eight-fifteen, "You can wake me up at one o'clock." And with that, he swiftly opened his door and went into the dark room, closing it with a soft 'click'. Russia stood there a little bit longer, lingering by the door like an abandon puppy. The very idea of him being compared to such thing made him want to bark with laughter though.

Instead, he simply shrugged one shoulder and began walking down the rather large hallway. He didn't stop until he was a few doors down and spotted the door that was left ajar. There was a little post it note stuck to the polished wood that read with sloppy handwriting, "The rest of your stuff will be brought here at 10:00am so don't worry when people start coming in." He took the note and pushed the door fully open.

He truly wasn't thinking much of how the room would look. Sure, he would expect it to be a plain room that was slightly junky with a few discarded boxes or something along those lines. But he really wasn't expecting this. The room was expertly cleaned. He half wondered if Lithuania showed America how to clean properly, but pushed the thought back as he sat the only bag he carried to the house on his rather neat and seemingly iron pressed bed. He took off his coat and laid it on a nearby chair and glanced out the wide window that took up almost the whole wall. The curtain that hung on the rod was pushed to the side, drowning the room in a warm glow.

"Hmm, it seems he can be considerate." He mused to himself as he wrapped his beloved scarf closer around his neck. He decided that he can explore his room later so in the meantime, he took it upon himself to roam the house freely. With that thought in mind, he took note of what floor he was on and where his room was before walking out and closing the door with a with a faint smile and a little hum.

I can't believe I lasted this long. I thought as soon as I stepped a foot in my house I'll just collapse in a pitiful heap on the floor, but I didn't. Which, considering the circumstances that I am now in, is a good thing. I'm thankful that I was able to tell Russia where the food will be and his room, so he won't have to roam the fucking house looking for shit. I leaned on the door tiredly, welcoming the darkness that greeted me and slide to the floor. For a moment, I considered just staying there until Russia comes and gets me, but I shook my head and slowly stood up and lumbered over to my awaiting bed. The sheets were still messy and somewhat on the floor, but I didn't care. It looked warm and very much inviting. Seeing how I could care less about sleeping in my clothes, I fell face first onto the mattress, not caring that only my torso made it. It was good enough for me to blackout.

"This is rather strange; then again it is America's house. I've heard stories about it from one of England's random drunken rants and it seems he was exaggerating. Big surprise." Russia mused to himself as he sat across from one of America's peculiar friends sipping tea. He hadn't thought there was anything resembling such a drink aside from the ice tea that seemed to have used a whole pound of sugar and then some. But that's beside the point.

Going back a few minutes, Russia was lost. There's no other way to say it. Frankly, it surprised him how big the house actually was. He found himself in a dark hallway deep inside, but found little to nothing of interest that could ease his boredom. Turning around, he jumped slightly when two big eyes stood out from the darkness. After quickly regaining his composer he stared curiously as those large eyes began moving toward him. As soon as he could place those eyes with a face, a smile made its way onto his face. "So you are Tony, I presume?" Russia started with his customary smile that came with greeting someone new.

Tony just stared at him with his large red eyes before turning around and walking down the hallway. He turned back and looked at him once and started walking again. Taking the hint, Russia followed him with a smile. He was led back to the kitchen after a few twists and turns and was seated. Returning to the present, Russia was currently watching the little alien make two sandwiches with interest, especially when he saw there wasn't any food that for the little alien to use. So far, since he has come into connect with the alien, Tony hasn't said a word. He would have thought he would have heard some mild cursing, from what England has told him, from the extraterrestrial every few seconds. He didn't dwell on it for long for Tony slid a plate which held his sandwich.

"спасибо." Russia said before picking up the sandwich and taking a bite.

A/N: I'm really excited for the next chapter! I can't wait to write it! But I may be a little late with since I'm trying to get two one shots out of the way first. ;w;