The Canadian Connection

Ch. 9 Frying Pans ans Knifes

"What should we do Alfred-san?" Kiku asked the American. Though the blond could often be an idiot he was actually very capable when the time came for him to actually apply himself to a situation.

"We go straight to Berlin." Alfred decided soberly, his face unusually dour. "It seems that they're heading there so as long as we head in that direction we should be able to catch up to them eventually." Kiku nodded in acceptance of the Americans decision, it being the most logical solution.

"Hai Alfred-san. To Berlin then." Kiku agreed, dropping the jacket on the ground decisively.

"... So where is Berlin?"

"Can we pull over and sleep somewhere? I mean honestly we haven't stopped since that gas station and I'm tired dazee!" Yong-soo whined to Matthew, leaning his head on the Canadians shoulder and giving the blond a puppy dog look. Matthew frowned at the Koreans face and attempted manipulation.

"What do you want me to do about it? Ask Berwald." Matthew added in a quieter tone, glancing to the Swedish man seated beside Yong-soo for reference. Yong-soos' eyes shot to the side as though he could see the man in question without turning his head before his eyes alighted on Matthew once more though somewhat wider.

"But he scares the piss out of me." Yong-soo whispered conspiratorially to Matthew. The Canadian grimaced slightly at the analogy but nodded in agreement. What could he say in argument to that? Berwald scared people, like labour inducing scared people. Which may have explained why he had Tino as his 'wife', speaking of whom was currently seated on the Swede's lap again and looking just as awkward as before.

"Ok granted, but again why do I have to?" Matthew repeated his earlier complaint.

"Because you're good with weird people. I would ask Mathias but he's asleep." Matthew rolled his eyes at that. Yes, Mathias was the normal one; he only carried around a freaking battle axe and tried to chop off peoples limbs! Granted, Matthew had encountered more people than usual with that particular hobby of late and Mathias didn't necessarily see himself cutting off Matthew's arm regardless of the fact that it would have (it was a freaking battleaxe!).

"So wake him up." Matthew gestured idly to the front seat where the strange beret the Danish man wore could be seen over the top of the seat, the cap moving as Mathias let out a particularly loud snore.

"I can't do that." Yong-soo gave Matthew a horrified look as though the blond before him somehow repelled him for even suggesting such an affront.

"What, why not? You did it to me." Matthew demanded.

"Well, he would hit me." Yong-soo defended with a weak grin. Matthew ground the heel of his palm into his forehead at the explanation. Maybe he should hit the Asian more often? If only he was more forceful but it sadly went against his nature, which was likely why he was going to cave into the Koreans demand anyway.

"Fine." Matthew spat as vindictively as he could which was not much considering his quiet voice. Matthew turned to the front seat to address the stoic driver. "Um, excuse me... Norge?" Matthew asked, stumbling over the name for a moment since the familiarity addressing the driver had been somewhat awkward for him as he had only known the Norwegian for a few hours. Norge inclined his head in the Canadians direction to indicate he was paying attention. "Could we maybe stop somewhere to sleep?"

"Why? We are only approximately four hours out of Berlin. It makes little sense to stop now." Norge argued, his monotone voice droning over the gentle hum of the engine.

"Uh, well. I mean, y-you've been driving for nearly twenty hours s-straight. Y-you should really get some sleep." Matthew hoped that by appealing to the Norwegians own state of exhaustion he may actually make some headway. Sadly, it was not the case.