Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.

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Off Course

Norway did not like bikes. They were clunky, noisy, and hard to look after. Small cracks could knock you off course. They were not very fast if you did not want to exert too much energy. They rusted if you accidentally left them in the rain. You could run someone over with them if you weren't careful. Norway reminded himself how much he hated them – and the riders too, he added – when the same red bike rocketed down the sidewalk at him again and the cyclist, a crazy, messy-haired blonde, grinned at him as they passed.

"You're sure you don't know him?" Iceland asked, shooting his brother a look.

He'd only gone to town with Iceland because there was nothing left to do in the house. Summer was a good time to do nothing, but there was only so long you could stand being idle. Puffin, Iceland's pet bird, only provided enough entertainment for a couple days before even its owner couldn't stay awake watching it hop around. Eating licorice until they puked/got fat didn't seem like a good idea and neither did lazing around the house doing nothing. The only way to go was out.

Despite living in the area for ages, neither brother had actually explored the nearby town. Norway liked sitting near the forest after school and conversing with the Norse spirits that frequented the area. Iceland preferred staying at home and spending time with his brother. While they had friends at the local high school (or eighth grade, in Ice's case), neither brother was much of a socializer. So while they saw and greeted people they knew, they stuck together to wander the streets.

It had only been a chance encounter. While rounding a corner, both heard the familiar metallic ding of a bicycle bell and Norway pulled Iceland toward the wall and out of the cyclist's path. The biker, someone neither boy recognized, glanced over at them and locked eyes with Norway. Norway, one who rarely judged based on first appearances, found that he already didn't like the idiot on the bike who nearly ran his brother over; those eyes were full of mischief and the lackadaisical way he wore his clothes and his hair suggested a rather annoying egotism. The boy stared at him and Norway sent an ill wish that the boy would just fall off already. But the boy didn't; he rounded the corner and out of sight.

"Do you know him?" Iceland asked, recognizing dislike in his brother's expressionless face.

"No." And he was glad about that. He didn't want to know someone who he hated just by one look. It seemed, though, when the annoying biker passed again, and again, and again, that things were not going to go his way. Each time, the boy did something more and more irksome; the second time they passed, the boy whistled at Norway. The third time, he paid for the ice cream that Iceland was affectionately eating. The fourth and most annoying time, the boy rode toward them and reached out to flip the bangs out of Norway's face, laughing all the while.

"I don't know why he keeps bothering us," Norway grumbled, guiding Iceland toward a large group of people to avoid being seen by the mysterious biker. "Doesn't he know how annoying he is?"

"He's more bothering you," Iceland mumbled contently, the ice cream putting him in a good mood. Perhaps if his stomach did not hold a glorious amount of delicious dairy treat, he would be more bothered about the fact that an unsavory boy was trying to make advances at his dear older brother. "We can go somewhere the bike can't get us, though." He gave Norway a pointed look. "Unless, of course, you've been wandering into the sidewalk just so he could get to you."

"Just go," Norway ordered, twisting his lip as he pushed Iceland into a nearby store. As Iceland stared up at the exotic patterns on the rug in the gift store, Norway watched as the biker rode around the block three more times before finally spotting him in the display window and screeching to a stop and abandoning the bike in a useless heap outside, several feet away from a bike rack.

"Here he comes," Iceland said as the biker entered the store. Norway shook his head and pushed his brother toward the back of the store, willing to sacrifice himself as

"Hey, there you are!" Norway grimaced as an obnoxious arm was thrown around his shoulders and he found himself pulled into the boy, who was much taller than he'd previously thought. "I knew you couldn't have gone too far…what'cha randomly come in here for!"

"What did you come here for?" Norway smoothly reflected. The boy blinked and grinned before leaning closer.

"To see you." The boy yelped as Norway shoved a hand in his face. "It's true, though…~!" The shopkeeper was giving them odd looks and Norway shook the boy off him and started toward his brother, who was watching them through the display cases. "I just saw you and you seemed to be a cute kid so I wanted to know you better!"

"Leave the pickup lines for someone who's interested."

"My name's Denmark!" Denmark caught Norway before he could get to safety with Iceland. Throwing his (ape-like) arms around Norway's skinny shoulders, he nudged his nose into the latter's cheek. "What's yours?"

"I don't give my name to rapists."

"I don't rape anyone!"

"Oh, look!" Iceland called, pointing out the window at a large boy in glasses picking up Denmark's bike. "Someone's jacking your bike, Denmark!"

Whizzing around like an activated alarm, Denmark turned to the door and suddenly extracted himself from Norway. "Swede! Stop! Just because I leave my bike around doesn't mean…stop! Finland, don't help…stop!" As the tall boy pulled another hapless blonde behind him and started riding away, Denmark sprinted out of the shop. "You won't…stop that bike!"

"Annoying," Norway griped, feeling a headache coming on from Denmark's voice. Iceland nodded, but he decided not to also mention that his brother had spoken more to Denmark than anyone he'd actually hated. He didn't really know who this Denmark person was, but if the way Denmark had been able to locate Norway all these times was any indication, Iceland was sure he was going to be seeing much more of Denmark from now on.

Owari

[=]

Note: Riding bikes is environmentally friendly. That's my excuse for this fanfic. You can call the cops for such harassment. For some reason, Iceland approves. Weird.