Prompt: 'I knew this day would come...sooner or later'

Twenty minutes from midnight, Copenhagen had been transformed into one huge party. Banners adorned every house, the riverboats were strung with lights, and the wavering tune of drunken Danish singing floated on the air. It of course came from Denmark himself. Out of all the countries of the world, he had won the lottery to host their annual New Year's party. But this was no ordinary New Year. It was the 31st of December, 1999, and Denmark intended to welcome the new millennium in style. With the help of the other four Nordics, he had cleaned out their cavernous old house, decorating every room and turning the garden into a venue fit for a festival. Alcohol flowed free and plentiful, Pulp's Disco 2000 blared from the surround-sound speakers, and most importantly, everyone had been drunk from ten o'clock that morning.

'I have to say, England, even if this song's from your country it's a good one!' yelled Denmark over the music. England gave him a wave in return. He was a morose drinker, and so far his night had consisted of six bottles of aquavit and an irritated Frenchman. Denmark drained the rest of his own beer. He scanned the crowd for Norway, and was surprised to find him up a tree with Netherlands, both eating brownies with questionable ingredients. Best not go near them for a while. His feet started, understandably, back towards the outdoor bar. It had been an expensive purchase, but worth it considering he'd be around to use it for the next few thousand years. He poured himself a glass of champagne and wandered over to the side of the house. Finland's old sauna still stood there, now accompanied by a swimming pool that some of the younger nations were enjoying. It was a freezing night, but he supposed that if enough alcohol was consumed it would not matter. There was a splash and a shriek as Liechtenstein leapt headfirst into the pool. Denmark shook his head, taking a smug sip of beer. His Germanic cousins had always been a little wild.

'Hey, Lili,' he said when she resurfaced.

'Netherlands?' Is that you? Oh wait, no it's-' She squinted through the darkness, pushing wet hair from her eyes. 'Denmark, right?'

'Right. That's my garden you've soaked. And do you know where Iceland is?'

'Just behind there.' She indicated a clump of bushes adorned with fairy lights, from which muffled laughter floated. Denmark's smile tightened a little.

'Thank you.' he said, beginning to climb through the foliage.

'I wouldn't do-' Yet even as Liechtenstein spoke, Denmark stumbled through to the other side, nearly crashing into two people at the same time. One was Iceland, of course, and the other-

'Oh, fuck.' mumbled a half-familiar voice. Our little Icy, off kissing boys in a bush?

'Nor!' yelled Denmark over his shoulder. 'Come here!' There was a crash, probably from Norway falling out of the tree. He grinned down at Iceland as Norway's footsteps grew louder.

'What is it now, Den?' Norway mumbled sleepily. 'Those brownies- damn, they were so good. Oh, hey, Hong Kong.' Hong Kong scowled back up at him.

'You'll never believe this.' said Denmark, in tones that better suited the presenter of some gossip show. 'Iceland- your little brother, the kid we raised for six hundred years until he finally decided to grow up- was kissing Hong Kong not two minutes ago.'

'I knew this day would come...sooner or later.' Norway's snapped wide open. 'At least have some taste in kissing, Ice,' he hissed. 'England's kid? Eyebrows?' Hong Kong brushed along his brow with a finger.

'It's not my fault.' he muttered sulkily.

'Oh, but it is!' said Norway, voice shriller than a banshee's. 'You come here- you kiss my brother- oh, Den. Our little baby.' And with a height of emotion known only to the severely intoxicated, he collapsed into Denmark's shirt and sobbed. All of a sudden it didn't seem like such a good idea.

'You keep your boyfriend,' said Denmark over Norway's loud crying, absent-mindedly smoothing down his pale hair. 'It is the year two thousand now, I suppose.' Iceland's expression still reflected part irritation and part embarrassment.

'Just don't tell anyone.' he mumbled, seeming to address Denmark's feet more than his face.

'Whole world's here, technically. It'll be old news by the next meeting, don't worry.' He manoueuvred his way back to the bar, made difficult by Norway hanging onto his arms, and cursed the strength of Netherlands' brownies just as the clocks of Copenhagen were striking midnight.