{ A collaborative Story with Cocodameme }  

The Slav laughed, covering his mouth with his hand. The atmosphere of the bar was cheery and joyful, for the most part. Oddly, He had found someone who claimed to be a news reporter. The perfect target for him. Yes, he was a spy, but for a good reason.
"You're funny, let me buy you a drink, in turn for some information. You see, I just moved here from Estonia. And I would like to know more about America." It was a quick, sly lie, but believable.
The American scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Uh- I don't drink. Ever. My parents raised me against it and it was pretty much one of the only rules they had."
Okay, his parents said no such thing ever, but he wasn't going to let useful and secret information slip out.
He rolled his eyes, "such a shame, why else would you be at a bar then?" The Russian asked, his accent slipping out a little. A mistake, which could've been noticeable, very noticeable.
He noticed the American's confused facial expression, and paused for a second. "Sorry if my accent is weirding you out, a lot of people assume I'm russian because of it."
"It's fine."
Shit, he had been caught. Time to come up with another lie.
"Well, I'm at a bar to get n o r m a l drinks. Like water."
"Uh Huh? Why didn't you stay at home then, you can easily get water there instead of coming here? To a bar or all places?" The man grinned, a mischievous glint in his brown eyes.
"Heh.. I wanted to try something new." The American looked away shyly, and at his hands.
He was actually not shy,but why not fake it? If he could trick the guy, it would be good.
   "Alright then." Aleksandr shrugged, and looked away, "nothing wrong with trying anything knew." He didn't believe the American, but couldn't look suspicious, especially with the high tensions between the countries they came from.
   "Yeah.."  He looked up, and at the person again.  He offered a small smile. 
He hoped his facade was working.
   The Russian smiled back, seeming pretty calm overall. Oddly, he seemed to be believing it.
  Seemed to.
  He didn't, not at all, but somewhat enjoyed the American's company.
He hummed softly, and started swinging his legs. Oddly, they were longer than normal by a little bit.
"So, what are you doing here?" He sounded innocent and didn't have the sharp and quick edge to his voice most reporters seemed to have.
"Came for a drink, then remembered i cant drink and drive but decided to stay anyways." Aleksandr mumbled, flicking the lighter's cap open and closed with his thumb.
"Oh. Heh, sounds pretty normal." He replied, not sure how to. The reporter looked away, and stared at his hands again. Heck, now he knew what the introverted people felt like.
The Russian went to get up, "oh, my name's Aleksandr by the way, if you're feeling lonely, give me a call." Quickly, he took out a notepad and scribbled down his number, and slid it over to The American Reporter, before leaving.
The door's bell gave a little ting as it opened. Before The American could say anything, he was gone.
   He sighed in relief, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding.  He felt like he had gotten a little too close to being found out in some way.  He slumped a little more in his seat, and looked at the number.
Huffing quietly, he carefully folded it and put it in his pocket.