Chapter Text
Amelia POV
"Ms. Amelia, we just got wind of an attempt by the Soviet Union to send a craft to the moon. They are calling it Sputnik."
I look up from my plate of hot dogs. "What?!"
My boss shows me a picture of Anya in a cosmonaut outfit, smirking at the camera. Damn, she looks good. Did she get new lipstick? Her eyes look so bright and...what were we talking about?
"America, I need you to focus." He sighs, shaking his head.
I laugh nervously. "Of course! My apologies, Mr. President. So what's the next step?"
He grins. "Well, we work even harder to get to the moon. Meeting adjourned."
I go back to my hot dogs.
The next time I see Anya, she's all sass and no soft edges. And her lipstick compliments her eyes so good. "Well, well, well. Look who got to the moon first. You wish you could have been the one to send Sputnik."
I growl, "No one cares about your stupid porcupine-looking-ass ping pong ball, Anya."
She laughs coldly. "Someone's a little jealous."
I scoff. "Me? Jealous? Why would I be jealous?"
Anya leans in, whispering in a way that makes me tingle, "Because I'm winning and you know it. By the way, your ass looks so fat in those shorts. I told you to lay off the hot dogs."
My face burns, and before I totally comprehend what I'm doing, I'm swinging my baseball bat. She deftly catches it, and I roar in rage, stepping on her foot. She pulls my hair, and I scream, kicking her right in the stomach.
"Ladies! Stop it, aiya!" Liu comes in, sighing deeply.
We separate, me sporting a bloody nose, Anya a black eye, both of us breathing heavily. Anya stomps her foot. "She started it!"
I glare at her. How does she look even hotter with her hair all messed up and her clothes rumpled? Focus, Amelia, focus! Think of hot dogs!
Anya smirks back, and I suddenly want her, so intensely it frankly hurts.
"When you two are done eye fucking each other, we've got a meeting to attend to." Francine says, arms crossed.
"Really, this is getting ridiculous." Alice says, eyes rolling.
Anya and I sit on opposite ends of the table, glaring at each other, tense as rubber bands, about to snap any moment.
"...your turn to present, Amelia." Francine states.
I get to my feet, drawing on the whiteboard. When I turn around, I spot Anya quickly looking back up. I feel my face heat, and she smirks.
I ignore her. "So! I think the fossil fuel issue can be solved if we genetically engineer a huge heroine to guard the Earth and push global warming away!"
"Nonsense, Amelia. That doesn't even make sense." Alice grumbles.
I balk. "Alice, you didn't even hear me out!"
"I agree, eh." Madeleine says quietly.
I groan. "Maddie, you're supposed to be on my side!"
"I'm never on your side. We didn't agree to that, Amelia." She says with a frown, hugging Kumajiro.
"Typical Amerika, da. Plunging full steam ahead with her ideas and not listening to rationality." Anya says with a simper.
"Aiya, let it go already. We don't need you two going at each other's throats again." Liu grumbles.
Anya tosses her hair back, and I consider for a moment what it would feel like to be all tangled up in her, strong legs around my waist, clothes off, her lips on my neck, her hand between my-
"...even paying attention? Ohonhonhon, you're staring at Anya again."
I shake myself out of it and hurry to my seat, uncomfortably hot down in the Grand Canyon. I tell Francine as eloquently as I can, "Fuck off."
When the meeting is over and everyone but Anya has filed out of the room, I clean up my hot dog wrappers, tossing them all in the trash. Without warning, I'm pinned to the wall, back pressed against the light switch. Her shovel is pressed against my neck. Her face is so close, I can smell her lip gloss and her toothpaste, a hint of vodka on her breath.
She whispers, "I will destroy you with just a press of a button. You're lucky to still be walking around in those shorts that don't even fit you. You look incredibly hot, by the way. I can't keep my eyes off you."
I try and fail to come up with something to say. I settle on a growl and a clench of my fists. Her simper only grows, and I think I'm getting turned on. Shit. Get yourself together, Amelia!
She licks my lips, and then travels down my neck, her teeth sinking into the skin near my collarbone. I moan a little, and immediately am shocked and disgusted with myself. Did I really just...?
"You walk around like you're so tough, da. But we both know, you're just desperate for me to rail you."
I gulp, and I can't even come up with anything to counter that...because she's right. I spit, "You bitch."
Anya only laughs, coldly, cruelly. "Resorting to insults because you know I'm right, and I'm winning this arms race? So childish."
She takes her leave, leaving me a steamy, frustrated mess.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I see Anya next, my frustration and horniness has reached concerning peaks. I grip her collar, pinning her to the wall with my baseball bat. "You. Me. Bed. Now."
She smirks. "Oh, little Amelia's trying to be aggressive. It's so cute."
I grit my teeth, and to my horror, tear sprout in my eyes. "Why do you have to be so damned mean, Anya?!"
She growls in a way that makes my stomach flip in a good way, "Because you're a little bitch who think she is better than everyone else. It's maddening. It's also getting me off every night."
You get me off every night too, bitch. "Anya...just fuck me already!"
Anya laughs. "What's the magic word, Amelia?"
I rack my brain. "Uh...mayonnaise?"
Anya giggles. "Is your brain that rotted by food? No, not even close. Shame, I could really use a hot evening with a stupid American."
I nearly cry out, "PLEASE!"
She gently cups my face. "Da, my little American. Let us not be too hasty, that closet over there will fit the two of us. Or maybe not, with your big behind."
She smacks my ass, and my face heats. "Faucet's on. Can we just fuck already? Jesus."
She tugs me behind her, giggling. "Oh, you'll be seeing Jesus, Amelia. I can promise you that."
When the two of us are situated in the closet, door locked, stripped down to my bra, my skirt and panties around my ankles, I moan, "I hate you, commie."
"I hate you too, capitalist pig." She says before she sends me to heaven, metaphorically.