Author's notes: Yay! My first APH fic, for day 2 of NaNoWriMo. This brings my wordcount to a bit over four thousand. Um. Yeah. This is based on my actual experiences of New Years in Italy. A word of advice: just don't do it. Seriously, you want to be anywhere on the planet other than Italy for New Years. It was kind of fun, but I genuinely feared for my life.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it! :D
Trivia: Every year there are at least a couple of deaths in Italy over New Years as a result of appalling firework-safety. Also, even the most remote villages in the mountains have ambulances on standby.
The UK sat down in his armchair with a cup of tea and picked up the all-but-illegible letter from his coffee-table he had set it on upon opening the envelope earlier. Frowning lightly, he squinted at the chicken-scratch adorning the paper in an attempt to decipher it.
Hooraaaaaay! You are invited to my, Italy's, home in the mountains for a fantabulous new years eve party! (RSVP to Germany because I would never remember how many people were coming and not order the right amount of food.)
The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland smiled slightly as he contemplated a visit to the mountains. True, Italy might be full of lunatics, but the country had some amazing natural sights, and it was a popular holiday destination.
Yes, the UK thought to himself as he raised the mug of hot tea to his lips. I think I'll pay Italy a visit. Besides, it's unlikely that many people will respond to his almost-illegible invitation, so you have to feel sorry for him...
"Why did I think it would be a good idea to attend this party?" The UK groaned to Canada, who happened to be the closest person to him. Nearby, Italy was sitting in a marquee with France, America and Greece, and the four were guzzling large quantities of alcohol and singing loudly and off-key. Germany was hanging around in the background looking as though he would rather be anywhere else, and Austria and Switzerland were noticeably absent.
Canada shrugged. "I don't know," he said, so quietly the UK could barely hear him over the sound of America slurring some song about striped sweaters. "I'm just here because nobody ever invites me anywhere and I thought it might be nice."
"Oh yeah?" the UK asked, frowning slightly. "Are you enjoying yourse... actually, who are you, again?"
Canada closed his eyes and grinned resignedly. "I'm nobody," he said, smiling broadly before drifting off to talk to Japan, who was standing alone in a corner of the garden.
"All right!" The UK's attention was suddenly drawn by a shout from America as he finished his song and the group surrounding him burst into drunken applause. The UK rolled his eyes and turned to Germany, doing his best to block out the sound of America's inanity. However, before the UK could say anything to Germany, there was a cry from the drunk group as Italy realised the time.
"Aaaaaaah!" Italy announced, staggering to his feet and leaning on a fence, his eyes shut and an enormous smile on his face. "It's nearly midnight! And you all know what that means?"
"Hon hon hon, everybody grab a partner?" the inebriated France suggested, waggling his eyebrows at a frightened-looking Canada.
"Nooo, silly!" Italy giggled, sliding a couple of inches down the fence. "Countdown time! Although you can always grab a partner if you want to..."
However, at that moment there was a cheer in the distance and the UK looked across the mountains to see an explosion of sparks in the distance as a couple of fireworks went off.
"Duuude, we missed the countdown!" America wailed.
"At least it looks like Austria and Switzerland are having fun at their own places," the UK mused to Germany, indicating the neatly-organised displays over the mountains in the distance.
"Oh, that's a pity. Well, we can just skip straight to fireworks, then!" Italy declared, taking his hand off the fence and stumbling unsteadily over to a box sitting just inside his back door. Italy laughed slightly as he opened the box, took out a rocket, struck a match and held it to the fuse.
"No, Italy!" Germany cried, lunging across the garden in an attempt to knock the match out of his hand. However, he wasn't fast enough, and soon enough Italy was standing in the middle of the snow-covered garden with a lit rocket in his hand, smiling broadly.
"Oh, Germany," Italy admonished gently as the fuse grew ever shorter. "You don't need to be so worried, it's only a small rocket..."
And with that, the "small" rocket blasted out of Italy's hand and straight into the marquee, forcing the spectators to dive for cover as the rocket exploded, sending a shower of green sparks flying in every direction.
"That was so coooool," Italy giggled, digging another several fireworks out of the box and waving them around. "Would anybody else like a go?"
The UK backed away as far as he could, hiding behind a tree, as Germany attempted to wrestle the bundle of rockets out of Italy's arms. Eventually, Italy had conceded the fireworks to Germany, and the latter began planting them in the ground.
"Look," Germany explained, as patiently as he could. "It's better if you just put them on the floor, aimed at the sky. This way is safer."
"Oh, okay," Italy said, vaguely. "Can I light them now?"
Germany placed the last of the rockets in the snow and nodded grudgingly at Italy. "Fine. Just do exactly as I... what are you doing, you idiot?"
Italy grinned, a lit match held to the bundle of tangled fuses. "You said I could light them, Germany, have you forgotten?"
"ZAT IS EXTREMELY DANGEROUS," Germany roared as he ran into Italy, sending them both flying into the fence as the bundle of fireworks exploded into a fireball, having not even left the ground. America stared blankly into the flames and began slowly walking towards them.
"Oh, no you don't," the UK muttered, darting out from behind his tree and dragging America after him by the collar. Just as the two were out of range of the fire, there was another explosion and it began sparking.
"I see you've found your partner, Britain," France smirked, as he threw one of his own arms around Canada's shoulders.
The UK let go of America's collar and shoved the drunk country face-first into a snowdrift. "Oh, I don't think so," he insisted, scowling at France. "I just wanted to make sure this idiot didn't end up dying. A dead America is not in my best interests."
"Hon hon hon," France responded. "Whatever you say. Come, Canada, let us go for a romantic stroll around ze garden."
Canada's eyes widened in horror and he glanced at the UK in appeal. "Help meeee!" he yelped, as France dragged him off. The UK frowned, before turning back to the Ameri-snowdrift.
"Hey, America," the UK began, thoughtfully. "That guy looks like you. Are you related?"
America surfaced from the snowdrift and spat a mouthful of snow into the UK's face. "Yeah, dude," he began, as the UK wiped the soggy slush off his face and scowled. "That's Canada, my bro. I thought he was in the Commonwealth?"
The UK nodded, just as a flaming box of unexploded Roman candles blew past.
"Well, I think I am getting out of here before I'm killed," the UK decided, turning to leave as the sound of another explosion drifted past. "I'll go and watch Doctor Who or something."
America looked up at the UK with the widest eyes he could muster, his hair covered in snow and a slight pout on his face, and began whimpering slightly.
"Oh, fine, you can come and watch with me," the UK said, grudgingly. "But only because I don't want you to die."
America jumped up excitedly and threw his arms around the UK's torso. "Thank youuuuuu!" he shouted, causing the UK to wince.
"Yeah, yeah, just don't touch me, and don't deafen me," the UK muttered, unwrapping the drunk America's limbs from his body. "And if you fall asleep on my sofa, you'll be waking up in the snow."