"No."

"But-"

"Nope."

The Netherlands was sitting on the couch at Denmark's house, his arms folded across his chest; upon his face was a rather stiffly painted No way in hell type expression as he looked at the television screen, which showed the title screen for the game Halo: Reach. Denmark was currently pouting at his friend, holding out an Xbox controller to his fellow spiky-haired nation. "C'mon, seriously, Ned, it'd only be one round!" he protested, pushing the controller into Netherland's chest. Still scowling, said nation shoved it away. "No," he mumbled. "I had enough watching Iceland beat you the other day."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Denmark sputtered. Netherlands rolled his eyes. "If I remember Norway's timing correctly, it took you a record 29 seconds to die," he explained, turning his head to face the Nordic. "Which means if you're playing against someone your own age, you're basically jumping off a cliff. Death in three," he added, making Denmark's irritated frown grow deeper.

Of course, he still wasn't giving up; watching Netherlands doing anything while sober was quite a sight to see, even if it was just playing videogames with Sealand while Sweden was out.

Especially if he lost.

Seeing as that made Denmark much more determined to achieve his goal, he put on the cutest face he could possibly muster- The type Finland put on when he was about to shoot the shit out of someone with his sniper rifle- And continued to beg Netherlands for a good seven minutes before he finally gave up and took the controller from Denmark's hands with an irritated snort.

"One round," he growled. Denmark grins. "Loser gets beer," he adds excitedly. Netherlands sighs, watching as the slightly younger- and much less mature- nation sets up a game.

Netherlands is given a sniper rifle, and Denmark is at the other end of the map with a rocket launcher. "First to 25 kills wins," Denmark says, and Netherlands cocks an eyebrow. "That's one round?" he asks, confused. Sure, he's played the game before, but he'd played for the story, for the campaign, not the let's shoot anything that moves part that Iceland seemed to be so good at the other day.

Blam!

While Netherlands had been musing, Denmark had sprinted to his location and knocked him backwards off of the cliff behind him with what sounded like either several grenades or a small nuclear bomb. Denmark smirked. "If my timing was right," he said nonchalantly, "I think you've broken my record."

"...You know that this means war."

"Neth, my bro, that was the whole point."

The next three hours are spent with the two of them either stockpiling weapons and grenades in little corners, sniping each other from bushes, or running out of said bushes to try to jack them in the side with a knife.

48 kills later- split evenly, of course, between the two- They faced each other, Denmark with a shotgun and and Netherlands with his sniper rifle, staring one another in the face.

"This is it."

Blam!

Two shots- fired simultaneously- and then the screen went dark.

Actually, the whole house went dark.

"Dammit! The power tripped!" Netherlands threw his controller across the room as Denmark raged loudly next to him. "And I was so close too," he mumbled. Denmark threw his hands up in the air. "No way! I was gonna win, I shot before you did!"

"Did not."

"Did too!"

"Your aim was off."

"You were aiming into the tree behind me!"

And so on the complaints went, for at least another five minutes, until the lights came back on and Denmark and Netherlands turned rapidly back to the TV screen, which told them that they had, in fact, tied.

"...So, who gets the beer?"

"Rematch?"

...Have I mentioned how much I love this pairing?

We had to learn about a Danish-Dutch war last week in History and I was giggling so hard. *Shakes head* The whole class was staring at me.

Accidental Reverse is next up.

-Haku