Thanks to everyone who faved/alerted/reviewed. It means a lot^^ Still unbetaed. Enjoy.

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The three of them walked in a comfortable quiet from the taxi to the hotel grounds as the evening passed into night. Norway looked at the starless sky as the a sudden dizziness made the heavens sway and tilt. It had been years since the last time he had been this long on a boat (or, this had technically been a ship...), and he'd hoped his slight motion sickness would have left him, but no such luck.

He shifted the bag onto his other shoulder, and readjusted the dark coat from slipping in way of his hands. A breeze ruffled his hair. It wasn't nearly as bad as the winds could be at his home in wintertime, so Norway didn't even flinch.

Norway spaced out as they walked up to the young girl in the reception. It wasn't until he heard the calm voices grow more and more frantic he even bothered to look up from the loose thread on his black glove. Loose threads were good for spacing out.

"I'm very sorry for the trouble this is causing you, but we really are crowded. Please understand! We couldn't take such an accident into consideration, as no one knew it was going to happen. We'll give you a discount on the room, and of course you don't have to pay for the unused one. Please understand!"

The brunette told them of other hotels, showed them flyers and showering them with apologies. She was clearly unsettled by the look she gained from Berwald (who really was just looking at the poor girl in sympathy, as she was trying so hard to do her job even in a crisis!) and Tino assured her that it was okay, "Of course we can share a room! As long as we get an extra bed, right guys?" and smiled cheerfully.

Norway sighed, and kept picking at the loose thread and began preparing mentally for having his personal space invaded.

After dragging their stuff into the double-made-triple room and eating in the hotel restaurant, Norway was still too awake to fall asleep.

He rolled onto his stomach and turned the page of his book, but the story didn't capture and enrapture him like it used to. He stretched himself out on the couch, hands in the air and book resting open on his stomach. He then reopened said book, and read the same sentence again. And again. A sigh was heard in the room. It wasn't Norway's.

He slowly sat up on the couch and turned his head to look over the backrest. Nothing unusual to be seen. He then heard another quivering breath. He froze, and then ever-so-slowly looked down. He could feel the anger and embarrassment colouring his cheeks at the scene uncovering on the floor just behind him. Had the busied pair on the floor listened, they would've heard a "For the love of- ", the smack of a book and then the louder slam of a door.

After a few seconds the door reopened, and a fumbling hand stretched after the wooden knobs on the wall working as hangers. The fingers met the soft fabric of a coat, closed around it, dragged, and disappeared like they had never been there.

Norway then proceed to trudge down a random lit street of Copenhagen as the night breeze cooled his still hot cheeks and bleached some of the rosy colour from his ears. He kicked a rock. What now? His thinking was then disturbed by a choir of happy voices, yelling (he refused to place such noisy grunting under the category of 'singing'!) in drunken Danish.

He slowed down his fast walk, and looked after the source of the noise. His eyes quickly landed on a scarlet house, golden gleam shining through the windows and laugher echoing back at him from the open door. It was a pub.

He smiled, and shook his head. Why not? It would be Tino and Berwald's job to find him in the morning anyway. As the Norwegian stepped over the door frame the smell of alcohol and wood slammed against his cold nose, and the sound of the drunken yelling increased. Norway couldn't care less at the moment though, and wasted no time walking over to the bar. He found himself a mostly undisturbed corner, and ordered beer. He decided to start easy.

He had only just finished his second beer when he decided he needed something stronger. The pity-ticket abandoned on the clean table of the hotel room in which Tino and Berwald were doing unmentionable things to each was beginning to give him a headache.

Besides, he didn't like pity.

Norway waved the barman over. "D'ya have any aquavit?" The bartender looked down at the blonde and laughed, "Any special brand you prefer, blondie?" "Have ya by any chance gotten some Linie lying around?"

After an hour or so the yelling group had split up, some going home, most going together in smaller groups. Three of them sat on a small table behind Norway. He couldn't help but look at them. He didn't notice his own staring, drunk as he was starting to get.

They were talking, laughing, cursing and in the albino's case, inhaling beer. One of them were completely wiped, face smashed against the wooden surface of the table, not moving. Cursing, yes, but not moving. The last person was the one Norway didn't find himself staring at, as he did not realise the fact that he was staring.

This man was all smiles, spiked blonde hair and blue eyes swimming with laugher and drunken happiness, overflowing to his cheeks and dying them pink. He was still humming on the song from earlier, and then -still smiling- he looked back at Norway.

The Dane kept looking at him as Norway was staring silently into the blue orbs, still not fully comprehending that he was watching someone. The Dane let out a drunken laugh. "Hi? Anyone home?" and accompanying these words was a waving hand, snapping Norway out of the daze. The Norwegian pushed the hand away, a little clumsily, and murmured, "Yeh, 'm fine. Don't bother me."

The Danes face lightened up with a mischievous look in the soft, blue orbs Norway again was staring into. "No way! I'll never let the chance go to bully a Swede!"

Norway sat staring into the strangers eyes for a few moments, before his head snapped back. "Wait, what?" Norway quickly looked behind himself. He then turned back to the grinning Dane and pointed at himself. "Me? No, I'm not a Swede. I'm Norwegian!"

The Dane stared at him as if he took pity on how stupid he was, and snorted before bursting out in a loud laugh. "Yeah, right. Stupid Swede, you didn't believe I'd actually fall for that?" He then dragged his chair beside Norway's, and dumped a heavy arm over his shoulders. "Hey, what are you.." The Dane wiped away a few tears that had escaped from the laugher, and smiled at him. "I'm drinking you under the table of course. The loser will have to do one thing the winner tells him to do, no objections. Deal?" And hadn't Norway drunk as much as he had, he wouldn't have said yes.

Probably.