Think Right, Drive Left [Part 1/2]
Title: Think Right, Drive Left
Characters: Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, and a poor sap called Dave.
Rating: PG?
Warnings: confusing British roads that were laid down before the invention of the car, kidnapping, knives and Russia being a slight creeper
Summary: The Braginskys get lost on their way to a meeting in London. Russia's version of getting directions is a little different from the social norm.
Somehow, they'd ended up in a car park, for some strange store chain that they'd never heard of. Though that was understandable, as Russia didn't pay particular attention to England's interest in building these giant shopping centres in places they weren't really needed.
What he probably should have been paying attention to was the map.
"Oh no, oh no." mumbled Ukraine next to him, sitting in the driver's seat as she was the only one with a driving license. "Oh dear, oh no..."
Russia could feel the pressure of Belarus' stare from the back seat of the car, and forced himself to ignore it. Turning around and asking what was wrong would only get him a terrifying answer and Russia didn't really enjoy the kind of soul crushing fear that Belarus could inflict entirely by accident. He loved his sister, yes, but not in the way she seemed to love him.
The directions on the map were confusing. No, they were beyond that; they were impossible. Whoever came up with the concept of the multiple roundabout needed to be smacked around with a heavy metal object for several hours.
Russia despaired, and while Ukraine fretted away to herself, he did a very brave thing and turned in his seat to talk to Belarus.
"You tell her." he asserted. Belarus didn't even blink at him.
"Nyet bratja, you should have the honor."
"I really would like not to."
"Please, I insist."
"It will make her cry."
"I know. Should I silence her for you?" And from nowhere, she pulled a ball gag. Her dress had no pockets on it, and Russia really didn't want to know where she kept things like this, though he already suspected the reason why.
"Do you see, this is why you should do it. Little sister has no soul and will not care if she makes big sister cry."
"That is only because my soul belongs to you, bratja." she sighed, and the ball gag suddenly became a lot more frightening. Resigned and with a due sense of dread, the older brother turned back round in his seat, and placed a hand on Ukraine's shoulder.
"Ah, systra." he began, and teary gray eyes looked over at him. "I believe we are lost, da?"
To the older Nation's credit, it took here a whole three seconds to burst into wails of hysterical sobbing. Fingers in his ears, Russia exited the car and walked in to the shop to ask for directions.
---
Dave was doing his shopping. It wasn't very fun or very interesting, but he'd just got his paycheck and the fridge had been empty of anything but a few eggs and some slightly stale cheese for a week and there was only so many ways to make a cheese omelet interesting before you began to contemplate starving as a better option. And so, as a 28 year old bachelor living alone in a cheap old flat, shopping was a necessary thing that needed to be done.
He was in the bread isle deciding whether he wanted brown bread or white bread or wholemeal when he noticed the man.
The first thing that struck him was that he was massive. Not in the way you'd expect a person living off KFC and McD's to be massive, but really tall and thickset, like a rugby player. He was also wearing a scarf and a long, thick coat, and while it was getting to be nearly autumn now, Dave thought it was a little early to be breaking out the wrap-up-warm stuff. But hey, who was he to judge; his house was so cold at night he had to wear two pairs of socks just to keep from losing toes.
The man wandered out of sight, looking very lost, and Dave put it out of his mind and returned to the bread dilemma. He didn't like brown bread too much, white bread was good but expensive, but wholegrain was both pretentious and expensive, so he was rather stuck.
"Excuse me?"
One might be able to excuse Dave for jumping nearly a foot in the air considering how deep he was in thought over the bread issue, especially since the man had appeared behind him without so much as a polite cough to announce his presence. Heart pounding, the much shorter man turned to look at the person in the scarf, who was smiling at him. There was something not right about that smile.
"I'm sorry," he said, in a thick Russian accent which didn't help the creepy factor. "Are you a local in this area?"
Dave had grown up here his entire life, as a matter of fact, and remembered when the now superstore had once been several smaller shops, including his favourite confectionery. He nodded mutely, and the giant man's smile grew. His eyes were the most peculiar shade of violet, but the smile never quite reached them.
"Oh good, my sisters and I are lost, would you please give us directions to London?"
Now, as much as Dave felt sympathy for the poor guy for getting lost on his town's near impossible, traffic light overloaded, roundabout riddled, 400 year old one-way road system, there was just something not right about him. Besides which they were about fifty miles from London and while he used to commute there before he'd lost his job, he really didn't fancy laying out the way to get to the capital from here.
"Sorry mate, but you're a long way off from London. I can help you get out of Farnbrooke, but I don't think either of us have the time to listen to an explanation of the whole shebang to London." Dave explained, trying to inject a little humor into the frigid atmosphere.
The tall blonde man didn't seem to really get it, but kept smiling anyway. "Da, a little help would be good." But before Dave could open his mouth, the man turned on his heel and walked away.
Did he expect Dave to follow him?
Fat chance.
Dave took his time finishing his shopping, his meager wages only stretching far enough to pay for the cheaper bread that had god knows what in it as well as a few other essentials like the milk, cheese, pasta and tea. It was only enough to fill three bags, and he stared up at the gradually darkening sky, foreboding rain. With the wind picking up, it seemed like his beaten up old umbrella wouldn't be of much use in the oncoming inevitable downpour.
He bumped into someone while looking up at the sky. "Oh bloody- sorry! Sorry, not lookin' where I was..."
"Hello!" chirped the Russian man from earlier, who had apparently been waiting for him outside the shop. He was standing next to a blue Ford, looking quite pleased. "I am so glad you came out here. Now you can be our directions!"
While Dave was ready to snap something like 'how was I supposed to exit the shop any other way but the only exit' when the car door opened and something wonderful happened.
"Bratja, is something wrong?" said the beauty, her long platinum blonde hair falling over he shoulders, her wide blue eyes the colour of a lake in winter, her lips cherry red and moving in flowing ways around her accent. Dave felt the arrow of cupid pierce his heart, and felt true love.
"Nyet, he will be coming with us as our guide!" her older brother chimed cheerfully, and a heavy hand settled on his shoulder, bringing him back to reality. The girl ducked into the car, and the taller man pushed him to follow, quite insistently, which he did.
It wasn't until the child locks on the doors clicked into place that Dave realised this had been a very stupid idea.
---
Bratja's selection of guide left a little to be desired. He was unshaven, scruffy, and kept looking at her with an odd look on his face. But he was useful to bratja, so she couldn't just shut him up or knock him out or stab him until he went away. Syestra was chatting away to him quite happily, though Belarus didn't really care to listen. What he used to do for a job before he got laid off was none of her concern or of any interest to her. Bratja, beloved bratja, was simply staring out of the window, and that was all the entertainment she needed for this journey to England's stupid capital.
"Um," said the man in his annoying voice. "We're out of the one way system now, so just drop me off by the bus stop and I'll go home."
"Oh of course!" syestra smiled, turning the wheel to park by the side of the road, when bratja reached across and corrected the turn back, sending them straight past the bus stop. "V-Vanya?"
"I still do not understand these silly English road maps." he admitted, ever the humble and gentle person. "And he is a very good navigator, da?"
"Do you wish to keep him, bratja?" Belarus asked, ready to forfil every whim of her brother's. One day he would recognise her devotion and love her. One day. She just had to be persistent.
The human was shaking slightly. Annoying. "Da, I think so."
"B-but Vanya..." whined syestra, ever the doubter. She sounded like she was going to cry again.
"Please do not cry, you can't see the road when you cry."
Bratja was so wise, and always thinking of others, even when syestra was apologising again and again for the next eight miles, he did not lose patience with her.
Bratja was perfect.
---
Vanya was insane.
They could be arrested for this! It was kidnapping! Ukraine acknowledged that this was not the first time this had happened, and that most likely Dave would not be hurt as long as he stopped looking at Natasha every three seconds, but he was a British National and England got very protective sometimes. A lot of the time. All the time.
Ohhh they were going to get in so much trouble.
Hot tears spilled over her cheeks, but it was better than keeping them in her eye. Vanya was right, they did impair her driving. Better to let them roll.
"It's alright, syestra." her younger brother said, smiling as ever. "At least we have directions to follow now!"
"No, no no no, that's it, that's far enough." said Dave, suddenly piping up from where he'd fallen silent. "No, I'm not giving you any more directions, now let me out of the bloody car or- or I'll call the police."
Ukraine felt the temperature drop, and choked back a sob. "Oh no, please, please take that back quickly."
Dave didn't look in the mood to take anything back. "How about screw you?"
Russia turned very slowly in his seat, expression never wavering from his smile. "I think you will, Mr Harrison."
"Dunno what planet you come from mate, but I'm pretty certain that where I come from no means no."
The smile widened, and Ukraine could see out of the corner of her eye that Dave paled considerably. "Natalia, do you have your knife?"
There was a metallic hiss, and Belarus brandished the mentioned blade. "Of course, bratja."
The whole car rocked to the side with the force of Dave throwing himself against the car door, hands raised placatingly and as far away from the knife as he could manage in such an enclosed space as a car. "Woah woah woah holy shit okay put it away!" he cried, voice raised in panic and fear. Russia grinned at the display.
"So, where is next exit?"
Notes:
- "Bratja" is brother and "syestra" is sister in Russian. :| You probably all figured that from context though.
- Roads in England tend to be old and wind around hills and through old town centres that were built 1200 years before the invention of the motor. As such, some of the roads are fucking insane. Roundabouts, which I'm told do not exist in America, exist to try and make things easier but in fact only make things worse.
- You drive on the left in England, and always keep an eye on what's happening to your right. Hence, title.
- /goes to bed and will put the rest up tomorrow orz
Fanfiction List
Characters: Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, and a poor sap called Dave.
Rating: PG?
Warnings: confusing British roads that were laid down before the invention of the car, kidnapping, knives and Russia being a slight creeper
Summary: The Braginskys get lost on their way to a meeting in London. Russia's version of getting directions is a little different from the social norm.
Somehow, they'd ended up in a car park, for some strange store chain that they'd never heard of. Though that was understandable, as Russia didn't pay particular attention to England's interest in building these giant shopping centres in places they weren't really needed.
What he probably should have been paying attention to was the map.
"Oh no, oh no." mumbled Ukraine next to him, sitting in the driver's seat as she was the only one with a driving license. "Oh dear, oh no..."
Russia could feel the pressure of Belarus' stare from the back seat of the car, and forced himself to ignore it. Turning around and asking what was wrong would only get him a terrifying answer and Russia didn't really enjoy the kind of soul crushing fear that Belarus could inflict entirely by accident. He loved his sister, yes, but not in the way she seemed to love him.
The directions on the map were confusing. No, they were beyond that; they were impossible. Whoever came up with the concept of the multiple roundabout needed to be smacked around with a heavy metal object for several hours.
Russia despaired, and while Ukraine fretted away to herself, he did a very brave thing and turned in his seat to talk to Belarus.
"You tell her." he asserted. Belarus didn't even blink at him.
"Nyet bratja, you should have the honor."
"I really would like not to."
"Please, I insist."
"It will make her cry."
"I know. Should I silence her for you?" And from nowhere, she pulled a ball gag. Her dress had no pockets on it, and Russia really didn't want to know where she kept things like this, though he already suspected the reason why.
"Do you see, this is why you should do it. Little sister has no soul and will not care if she makes big sister cry."
"That is only because my soul belongs to you, bratja." she sighed, and the ball gag suddenly became a lot more frightening. Resigned and with a due sense of dread, the older brother turned back round in his seat, and placed a hand on Ukraine's shoulder.
"Ah, systra." he began, and teary gray eyes looked over at him. "I believe we are lost, da?"
To the older Nation's credit, it took here a whole three seconds to burst into wails of hysterical sobbing. Fingers in his ears, Russia exited the car and walked in to the shop to ask for directions.
---
Dave was doing his shopping. It wasn't very fun or very interesting, but he'd just got his paycheck and the fridge had been empty of anything but a few eggs and some slightly stale cheese for a week and there was only so many ways to make a cheese omelet interesting before you began to contemplate starving as a better option. And so, as a 28 year old bachelor living alone in a cheap old flat, shopping was a necessary thing that needed to be done.
He was in the bread isle deciding whether he wanted brown bread or white bread or wholemeal when he noticed the man.
The first thing that struck him was that he was massive. Not in the way you'd expect a person living off KFC and McD's to be massive, but really tall and thickset, like a rugby player. He was also wearing a scarf and a long, thick coat, and while it was getting to be nearly autumn now, Dave thought it was a little early to be breaking out the wrap-up-warm stuff. But hey, who was he to judge; his house was so cold at night he had to wear two pairs of socks just to keep from losing toes.
The man wandered out of sight, looking very lost, and Dave put it out of his mind and returned to the bread dilemma. He didn't like brown bread too much, white bread was good but expensive, but wholegrain was both pretentious and expensive, so he was rather stuck.
"Excuse me?"
One might be able to excuse Dave for jumping nearly a foot in the air considering how deep he was in thought over the bread issue, especially since the man had appeared behind him without so much as a polite cough to announce his presence. Heart pounding, the much shorter man turned to look at the person in the scarf, who was smiling at him. There was something not right about that smile.
"I'm sorry," he said, in a thick Russian accent which didn't help the creepy factor. "Are you a local in this area?"
Dave had grown up here his entire life, as a matter of fact, and remembered when the now superstore had once been several smaller shops, including his favourite confectionery. He nodded mutely, and the giant man's smile grew. His eyes were the most peculiar shade of violet, but the smile never quite reached them.
"Oh good, my sisters and I are lost, would you please give us directions to London?"
Now, as much as Dave felt sympathy for the poor guy for getting lost on his town's near impossible, traffic light overloaded, roundabout riddled, 400 year old one-way road system, there was just something not right about him. Besides which they were about fifty miles from London and while he used to commute there before he'd lost his job, he really didn't fancy laying out the way to get to the capital from here.
"Sorry mate, but you're a long way off from London. I can help you get out of Farnbrooke, but I don't think either of us have the time to listen to an explanation of the whole shebang to London." Dave explained, trying to inject a little humor into the frigid atmosphere.
The tall blonde man didn't seem to really get it, but kept smiling anyway. "Da, a little help would be good." But before Dave could open his mouth, the man turned on his heel and walked away.
Did he expect Dave to follow him?
Fat chance.
Dave took his time finishing his shopping, his meager wages only stretching far enough to pay for the cheaper bread that had god knows what in it as well as a few other essentials like the milk, cheese, pasta and tea. It was only enough to fill three bags, and he stared up at the gradually darkening sky, foreboding rain. With the wind picking up, it seemed like his beaten up old umbrella wouldn't be of much use in the oncoming inevitable downpour.
He bumped into someone while looking up at the sky. "Oh bloody- sorry! Sorry, not lookin' where I was..."
"Hello!" chirped the Russian man from earlier, who had apparently been waiting for him outside the shop. He was standing next to a blue Ford, looking quite pleased. "I am so glad you came out here. Now you can be our directions!"
While Dave was ready to snap something like 'how was I supposed to exit the shop any other way but the only exit' when the car door opened and something wonderful happened.
"Bratja, is something wrong?" said the beauty, her long platinum blonde hair falling over he shoulders, her wide blue eyes the colour of a lake in winter, her lips cherry red and moving in flowing ways around her accent. Dave felt the arrow of cupid pierce his heart, and felt true love.
"Nyet, he will be coming with us as our guide!" her older brother chimed cheerfully, and a heavy hand settled on his shoulder, bringing him back to reality. The girl ducked into the car, and the taller man pushed him to follow, quite insistently, which he did.
It wasn't until the child locks on the doors clicked into place that Dave realised this had been a very stupid idea.
---
Bratja's selection of guide left a little to be desired. He was unshaven, scruffy, and kept looking at her with an odd look on his face. But he was useful to bratja, so she couldn't just shut him up or knock him out or stab him until he went away. Syestra was chatting away to him quite happily, though Belarus didn't really care to listen. What he used to do for a job before he got laid off was none of her concern or of any interest to her. Bratja, beloved bratja, was simply staring out of the window, and that was all the entertainment she needed for this journey to England's stupid capital.
"Um," said the man in his annoying voice. "We're out of the one way system now, so just drop me off by the bus stop and I'll go home."
"Oh of course!" syestra smiled, turning the wheel to park by the side of the road, when bratja reached across and corrected the turn back, sending them straight past the bus stop. "V-Vanya?"
"I still do not understand these silly English road maps." he admitted, ever the humble and gentle person. "And he is a very good navigator, da?"
"Do you wish to keep him, bratja?" Belarus asked, ready to forfil every whim of her brother's. One day he would recognise her devotion and love her. One day. She just had to be persistent.
The human was shaking slightly. Annoying. "Da, I think so."
"B-but Vanya..." whined syestra, ever the doubter. She sounded like she was going to cry again.
"Please do not cry, you can't see the road when you cry."
Bratja was so wise, and always thinking of others, even when syestra was apologising again and again for the next eight miles, he did not lose patience with her.
Bratja was perfect.
---
Vanya was insane.
They could be arrested for this! It was kidnapping! Ukraine acknowledged that this was not the first time this had happened, and that most likely Dave would not be hurt as long as he stopped looking at Natasha every three seconds, but he was a British National and England got very protective sometimes. A lot of the time. All the time.
Ohhh they were going to get in so much trouble.
Hot tears spilled over her cheeks, but it was better than keeping them in her eye. Vanya was right, they did impair her driving. Better to let them roll.
"It's alright, syestra." her younger brother said, smiling as ever. "At least we have directions to follow now!"
"No, no no no, that's it, that's far enough." said Dave, suddenly piping up from where he'd fallen silent. "No, I'm not giving you any more directions, now let me out of the bloody car or- or I'll call the police."
Ukraine felt the temperature drop, and choked back a sob. "Oh no, please, please take that back quickly."
Dave didn't look in the mood to take anything back. "How about screw you?"
Russia turned very slowly in his seat, expression never wavering from his smile. "I think you will, Mr Harrison."
"Dunno what planet you come from mate, but I'm pretty certain that where I come from no means no."
The smile widened, and Ukraine could see out of the corner of her eye that Dave paled considerably. "Natalia, do you have your knife?"
There was a metallic hiss, and Belarus brandished the mentioned blade. "Of course, bratja."
The whole car rocked to the side with the force of Dave throwing himself against the car door, hands raised placatingly and as far away from the knife as he could manage in such an enclosed space as a car. "Woah woah woah holy shit okay put it away!" he cried, voice raised in panic and fear. Russia grinned at the display.
"So, where is next exit?"
Notes:
- "Bratja" is brother and "syestra" is sister in Russian. :| You probably all figured that from context though.
- Roads in England tend to be old and wind around hills and through old town centres that were built 1200 years before the invention of the motor. As such, some of the roads are fucking insane. Roundabouts, which I'm told do not exist in America, exist to try and make things easier but in fact only make things worse.
- You drive on the left in England, and always keep an eye on what's happening to your right. Hence, title.
- /goes to bed and will put the rest up tomorrow orz
Fanfiction List