Cacha§a Made Me Do It [Brazil+Denmark]

[Denmark]

Danish Prime Minister Anders Fogh Rasmussen visited Brazil to continue diplomatic relations)

---

It was late in the evening when Mathias and Prime Minister Rasmussen arrived in Galeao-Antonio Carlos Jobim International Airport. It had been a long flight, but had passed quite quickly for Denmark who had been engrossed in "Relationships: How to Meet Girls (And Make Them Love You)". He had taken to writing some of the more pertinent points on his hand, which now read:

1.) Sincerity
2.) Compliments (body AND mind)
3.) Invite to do Something Fun
4.) Don't Be Stupid or Say Stupid Things

He studied his hand while they waited for the seatbelt sign to be switched off. He hoped he could remember it all.

Fortunately, having flown First Class, it wasn't long before they were off the plane and being met by the Danish Ambassador, Christian. There was much hand-shaking and exchanging of pleasantries. Denmark let out a groan when Anders and began to discuss their children and Saturday sports, clearly settling in for a long conversation.

"Come on!" Mathias missed the stern look that Anders shot him in response to his outburst. "I want to go try cachaca, swim drunkenly in the Ipanema, then climb the Cristo Redentor, and then find a gorgeous girl to show me the real sights of Brazil. Let's leave the politics for tomorrow! There'll be plenty of time for politicking later. Now is the time to grab Rio by the balls!"

Anders and the ambassador, Christian, shared a look. After a curt nod from the PM, Christian excused himself to re-check the details of their hotel booking and hunt down their bags.

Now alone, Anders didn't bother to hide his exasperation. "Mathias, there will be no drinking on this trip. I think I made that abundantly clear before we left."

"Well, yeah, but I thought that was just to keep Magrete quiet. Come on, let's go hit the bars!" He raised an eyebrow suggestively and grinned. "I won't tell if you won't."

Anders sighed heavily and massaged the bridge of his nose lightly.

"So, to the clubs?"

"No! We have important work to do tomorrow, I won't have you still half-drunk and ruining our reputation. Besides, I'm a little old to be hitting the clubs. One of the air hostesses thought you were my son."

The nation shrugged. "I can always go by myself, if you don't want to - "

"No! Mathias. Read. My. Lips. You will not be going to any clubs tonight. Okay?"

"Okay," he said. Whatever, he thought, silently gleeful that Anders hadn't thought to make it a direct order. Besides, he'd never met Brazil's nation-spirit, but he was sure that she would most certainly approve of tourists hitting the bar scene. Perhaps not going would be considered disrespectful.

Yes, that's it. It would be rude not to.

It wasn't surprising, then, that Mathias found a way to get himself on the balmy streets of central Rio De Janeiro shortly before midnight. It had been relatively easy to give Anders the slip after arriving at the hotel - the prime minister had been eager to call his family after the flight, honestly, was that all the man ever thought of? This was Brazil for God's sake. Things happen in Brazil! - and the hotel staff hadn't looked at him twice as he snuck down the stairs. He'd allowed himself some time to shower and get changed into jeans and a red t-shirt, but that had been all. There was too much to see in too little time to spend any more precious minutes in his room, no matter how nice it was.

He found the club with the buzziest vibe and skirted around the crowd of people to get to the bar. One of the bartenders was quick to notice him and, after a playful conversation, advised he try a caipirinha. The citrus drink was refreshingly cool and tangy, but seemed a little feminine compared to what he was used to. It didn't stop him from ordering another one, though. He soon found himself in group of locals, trying his broken Portuguese as they replied, grinning at his attempts, in fluent English.

His cheeks were beginning to ache from laughing when he caught sight of a girl at the bar. She had long, shiny dark hair and a a beautiful tanned face, but appeared a bit on the young side to be in bar. He mentioned as much to his new Brazilian friend. Vitor followed his gaze and simply laughed.

"No, she's of age. You leave that one alone, my new Danish friend."

"You know her?"

"Oh yes. She might be beautiful but she's trouble. You never know what might happen around her."

"Really?" That made her infinitely more interesting. He had to go introduce himself. "Hey, my round, right?"

He walked away from the guys without waiting for a response, making a bee-line for the beauty at the bar. He came up beside her and gestured to the bartender, ordering two caipirinha. The bartender winked at him. Mathias snuck a sideways glance at the girl and drank in her dark eyes and smooth skin: close up she was even more stunning. And shorter than he'd thought - the top of her head barely passed his shoulder.

The bartender returned with his drinks. Mathias took them both and tried to remember both his basic Portuguese and the flirting tips he'd read on the plane flight over. Unfortunately, he couldn't check his note-covered hand because it was now holding a glass to offer the object of his affections. That had been poorly planned.

Oh well... back to the usual routine...

He tried to think of a trusty pick-up line that he could use, but came up with nothing. He was aware of his new Portuguese friends nudging each other with their elbows and felt the pressure to do something. Chickening out wasn't even worth considering. This was Brazil! Things happened in Brazil! He wasn't sure exactly what 'things', but perhaps night was his chance to find out.

He took a deep breath. Looked like he was going to have to break away from his usual lady-slaying technique.

He turned his back to the bar and took a step closer to her, so they were practically face to face. He pulled on his most charming smile and lowered his voice to a sexier cadence.

"Desculpe-me... eu nao estou bebado, eu so estou embriagado por voce. Voce e tao linda que voce me fez esquecer a minha linha de recolhimento."

---

AN: (Denmark's smooth talk: "Excuse me... I'm not drunk, I'm just intoxicated by you. You're so beautiful that you made me forget my pickup line." At least, that's what he's trying to say. I couldn't get the non-English vowels to show up properly, either. Gah. Apologies. ) Hope I gave you enough to work with, Brazil! I apologise for the fail of this post... I spent too much time trying to think of witty pickup lines and failing rather than actually plotting it.

[Brazil]

Being a republic was so stressful sometimes, yes? Your people always wanted something and you couldn't tell them to shut up and go away because all their concerns were so annoyingly legitimate. At least when it came to other nations, Beatriz could just start kicking them whenever they started whining about this or that thing that had no relevance to the things under discussion!

Ah, well. They were her, and Beatriz loved them all despite all their irritating faults. But it was a good thing they took after her when it came to relaxing, or else Beatriz would need to start kicking a few humans around as much as she did other nations.

Today Beatriz had left Brasília and ducked over to Rio de Janeiro for some much needed rest and relaxation. Lula was a really good boss, letting his nation take time off whenever she wanted...

Having picked one of her favorite bars, Beatriz was just chatting with the bartender (his grandmother had been ill recently, but she was doing much better now) when a man decided to sidle up to the bar right next to her. While he ordered caipirinha, Beatriz eyed him out of the corner of her eye.

The fellow was tall, and his words were accented in a way that shouted 'foreigner'! Not a common sight around here, and he looked like a drunkard, but he wasn't bothering anyone, yes? At least, he wasn't until he got his two caipirinha and turned to face her. Leaned right into her face, too, so that Beatriz could smell the caipirinha he'd already had.

"Desculpe-me... eu nao estou bebado, eu so estou embriagado por voce. Voce e tao linda que voce me fez esquecer a minha linha de recolhimento."

[/color]

The bartender and everyone else in earshot started snickering immediately. Beatriz stared flatly up at the foreigner at first herself. Did...he have any idea what he was saying at all? It was...oh hell, it was just the extremely stupid sort of thing Beatriz needed to hear right now!

Snorting, Beatriz barked out a hearty laugh and slapped the bar with a hand.

"Your Portuguese needs some work, sabe?"[/color] Beatriz replied, smiling and nudging the man playfully in the ribs with her elbow.

She replied in English, since that was probably a language that the poor drunken fool was better at using. Judging from what he'd attempted to say, clearly one of those caipirinha was meant for her...Beatriz swiftly divested the man of one and smiled at him over the glass.

...Actually, there was something very odd about this foreigner, aside from all the other things that made him suspicious. Beatriz could almost put her finger on it...well, it would come to her later, yes?

"Where are you from Senhor?"[/color] Beatriz asked, cheerfully nodding at the drunkard to settle in next to her if he wanted.[/center]

-----
- Denmark's flirting translated as this in my online translator: "Apologize ... I am not bebado, I am intoxicated only by you. You and so lovely that you made me forget my line of retirement."
- Don't worry so much! This is going great thus far~

[Denmark]

The muffled guffaws that greeted his attempts at being suave were the first indication that something had gone awry. It was not the reception he'd hoped for. Mathias' eyes scanned the sniggering crowd worriedly, catching sight of Vitor who'd pushed his way forward to get a front-line view.

“I think you told her to take early retirement,” the Brazilian said with a crow of laughter and a shrug, clapping a hand on his shoulder in a bracing manner. “Good luck with that, Matty. It's being nice knowing you.”

He slipped into the crowd, heading in the general direction of the men's toilets.

Mathias, on the other hand, was stock-still, grin frozen in place. He had a vague idea of where he'd gone wrong – had he used 'recolhimento'? As in the same way he would have suggested they retire to a private room, rather than giving up work? – but it was a long explanation and he wasn't sure he was going to have a chance to clear up the miscommunication quickly enough.

He just hoped that she hadn't taken offence. She was giving him an expressionless look that suggested she was considering throwing the drink in his face.

“Uh...” He tried to think a way out of this situation. “Let me try that again...”

The girl gave a sudden, distinctly unfeminine laugh, cutting him off midsentence. It was full-body, genuine and infectious. Mathias felt his lips relax into a more natural smile.

She smiled back and nudged him lightly with her elbow. “Your Portuguese needs some work, sabe?"

Ah, she spoke English. Excellent.

Inwardly, he breathed a sigh of relief that she didn't seem to be offended.

“Sim,” he said, reverting back to one of the few Portuguese words he could reliably use correctly before switching to English. “I've never tried to speak it properly before tonight. There aren't many opportunities to, where I'm from.”

Thankfully, she took the offered glass and smiled cheekily, nodding at the empty seat next to her. Mathias gathered the shreds of his dignity back around him and gratefully took the offered seat, swinging his legs to the side so that he faced her rather than the bar. He was too busy trying to not to gape at her that he missed the reservations in her dark eyes.

He opened his mouth to ask her name, but she beat him to the chase and asked where he was from.

“I'm Danmark,” he began without thinking, then quickly berated himself for his carelessness. “Er, that is, I'm Danish. From Denmark. This is my first time out here. It's a long way from home.”

Oh well, hopefully she'll just think I'm drunk and terrible at languages.

He continued as quickly as he could, trying to distract her in case she'd noticed his slip-up. “Are you local? This is a lovely city. So different from back in Copenhagen.”

The caipirinha in his hand was getting slippery. He rested it on the bar, consciously restraining himself from drinking it until his partner had taken a few mouthfuls of her own. He didn't want her to think he was just there to get sloshed – even if that was partly true.

Hey, what do you know? The list is still there!

Smudged slightly from the glass's condensation but still legible, the dark ink seemed very noticeable. All of a sudden it seemed pathetic to be using notes from a book to meet people. Surely the best way was just to dive right in? Besides, hadn't he been telling himself that 'things happen in Brazil'? He rubbed his palms together as naturally as he could to smudge it further, hoping she hadn't seen the writing. Not that it mattered if she could; chances were that she couldn't read Danish. Still. He didn't think his ego could take much more bruising.


Perhaps that catastrophic first impression could be undone, or at least blurred? It was worth a try.

He lowered his voice and tried not to sound too pathetic “I'm sorry if I said something offensive before. I'm not very good at Portuguese, as you know...”

His eyes met hers again. He winked without any salacious intent, trusting it would be interpreted correctly.

“And I can't help but embarrass myself in front of beautiful girls. It's the Danish curse.”

--
Pffft Denmark's Portuguese sucks. Mine is totally way better *cough*yeah, right*cough*

[Brazil]

At least this fellow was honestly stupid, yes? Beatriz nodded and took a swallow of her newly-acquired caipirinha as the man pointed out lacking any good chances to practice Portuguese before coming to Rio.

"Better learn fast, sabe? It's annoying to deal with lazy foreigners who don't make any efforts. Lucky for you we're all so nice here!"

[/color] Beatriz pointed out.

Her first words were serious, but for the last part Beatriz grinned and slapped her new drunk companion hard on the shoulder. Really, there were plenty of places in her house that would never be so happy to accept a foreign drunkard who couldn't speak proper Portuguese, but Rio was special - and therefore he got a special exemption!

"“I'm Danmark. Er, that is, I'm Danish. From Denmark. This is my first time out here. It's a long way from home. Are you local? This is a lovely city. So different from back in Copenhagen.”[/color]

Hmm? What an odd way to put things. Was English not his first language? Beatriz took another swallow of caipirinha, then decided that it was probably a much less complicated reason, like the fact that he was a drunkard.

"Cophenhagen, ah?"[/color] Beatriz replied, probably mispronouncing the city's name but not caring about it, "You must get snow all the way up there, sabe? Rio doesn't get any."[/color]

Of course, she hadn't answered the question of her being a local or not...silly humans, always asking complicated things thinking they were simple subjects. Well, no matter how she explained it away it wasn't like the man would remember in the morning, yes? Alcohol made this so much less complicated!

"Ah, I used to live here a lot more often before,"[/color] Beatriz finally added, "I'm more often in Brasília these days. But there isn't a part of my country that doesn't feel like home, sabe? We have such a wonderful country!"[/color]

The bartender and other patrons that were shamelessly eavesdropping (not that Beatriz minded - if she wanted this to be private she wouldn't be talking in public, yes?) noisily agreed. Meanwhile, Beatriz spotted the drunkard looking intently at the palm of one of his hands. She shifted just to the side a bit and spotted what looked like writing scribbled on it.

Oh how cute! He'd given himself notes! Either too shy or too drunk to remember how to pick up girls on his own, yes? Too shy was just fine with Beatriz. Too drunk, maybe not, but a swift kick would fix the problem if he got too annoying.

Judging from what he said next, plus the wink, it seemed more like the former than the latter.

“And I can't help but embarrass myself in front of beautiful girls. It's the Danish curse.”[/color]

"Oh? It must be terrible being Danish! No one talking to anybody but the ugly girls,"[/color] Beatriz joked in reply, nudging him with her elbow again, "Since you're here to practice, I think I'll forgive you this time."[/color]

If he heard the implicit warning of 'So maybe don't do it again, yes?', Beatriz didn't know. Ah, but sitting around drinking wasn't the only think to do in Rio! There should be something more fun to drag her new friend off to do...

Pity he hadn't come during Carnival.[/center]

[Denmark]

“Oh? It must be terrible being Danish.” She gave him another friendly dig in the stomach. She was pretty strong, actually. If he kept getting nudged in the ribs he was going to develop a bruise. “No one talking to anybody but the ugly girls.”

Mathias merely grinned. He wanted her to know that he wasn't an utter loser, but decided against telling her that the pretty girls he usually came across had little of interest to say, and generally did not need much talk to persuade them to go home with him. A smile normally sufficed. But those silly vain creatures were boring. It was much more difficult to talk with a woman of real substance, and he was tired of loveless trysts with indistinguishable simpering blondes. How much harder it was to make a good impression when you actually cared what the other person thought of you.

“Since you're here to practice, I think I'll forgive you this time.”

His grin did not slip. It was hard to not feel humiliated by this talk of 'practice', but Mathias was used to making a fool of himself. It always bruised the ego more if it was beautiful girl doing the mocking – especially if the whole bar was listening in like this lot clearly was - but strangely this didn't feel too uncomfortable.

He took a small gulp of the caipirinha and glanced at the girl out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't quite sure what to make of her. Her words were certainly challenging but her tone was friendly and inviting enough. The hypocrisy of calling him a 'lazy tourist' for being unable to speak good Portuguese but not being able to correctly repeat the name of his capital city was amusing, and he had let it pass without comment because he couldn't fault her cheeky nature. In fact, the teasing reminded him of what he often dished out to his brothers. It felt like they were getting off to a good start, considering. There was something inexplicably familiar about her. How strange that he could walk into a strange bar in a foreign country and happen across someone who made him feel at home.

“Obrigado. Hopefully I am a quick learner.” He gave a self-depracating smile, indicating it was unlikely he wouldn't do or say something stupid again at some point in the night. Especially if there was alcohol involved. If he remembered rightly, that was Rule 4 from the handbook, which he'd already broken.

“So, she who is at home anywhere in Brazil, qual é o seu nome?” He quite agreed with her description of her country He himself never failed to feel at home no matter what Danish street he was on. It seemed people were proud of their country the world over, which was pleasing. Brazil herself would be delighted to hear it. “Eu sou o Mathias.”

He crossed his fingers and showed them to her, laughing. “Tell me I got it right this time?”

It was getting hot in the bar. He was grateful he'd gone for a simple red t-shirt instead of the long-sleeved shirts he normally wore out, but the heat was still getting to him. The press of people must have been adding to the heat. He rose the glass to his lips and took a minute sip, just enough to let the cool liquid dampen his tongue. If he was becoming dehydrated it would take very little alcohol to tip him over the edge from cheerily tipsy to obnoxiously drunk. He was going to have to be careful.

“I'm only here for a few days,” he continued, wondering if he was bold enough to suggest they leave the bar soon. It was a gamble. Saying something like that too early could make him look seedy. “And I have to spend most of the days in meetings. It's a pity because there's so much I would like to explore. If you were me, where would you go? What would you do?”

[Brazil]

Much to Beatriz's pleasure, her new drunkard friend seemed to know a bit more Portuguese after all! Granted, it was all accented with that thick European brogue and he was still screwing up a bit, but the fact that he made the effort was very pleasing to know, yes? She'd really meant it when she'd said that tourists who were too lazy to learn any useful Portuguese were annoying.

“So, she who is at home anywhere in Brazil, qual é o seu nome? Eu sou o Mathias.”

[/color]

Beatriz laughed, cheerful and hearty.

"Ah, that's good! Your Portuguese is already getting better, sabe?"[/color] she replied.

Switching to Portuguese, Beatriz quickly added, "Sou Beatriz, prazer em conhece-lo o meu amigo dinamarquês,"[/color] to her reply.

She took another swallow of her caprinha, noting that the glass was almost empty now, as she waited to see if her new friend would understand what she had just said to him. In the meantime, she was still wondering what to make of the fellow.

'Mathias', hmm? He looked like he wouldn't last much longer in the nighttime heat. Not wanting to lose this most interesting person to dehydration or heatstroke so soon, Beatriz quickly waved the bartender over. Whispering in his ear to be heard over the noisy room, Beatriz asked for a nice, cool glass of water for Mathias, which the bartender quickly provided.

"It's no good if you get dehydrated, my new friend,"[/color] Beatriz told Mathias firmly as she slid the cool liquid closer to him, "This is not always a forgiving climate we have, sabe?[/color]

“I'm only here for a few days, and I have to spend most of the days in meetings. It's a pity because there's so much I would like to explore. If you were me, where would you go? What would you do?”[/color] Mathias asked her next.

Beatriz was momentarily puzzled. Was he really here in Rio for business? How absolutely dull! Beatriz would have to fix that for him immediately: she didn't want her home to be thought of as a boring place in the slightest, yes?

"I would make sure to have as much fun as I could right away, sabe?"[/color] Beatriz told him immediately.

Standing up, Beatriz leaned on her new friend's shoulder.

"First, we go dancing!"[/color] she declared, "Apresse-se! Sitting around drinking is too boring!"[/color]

The far side of the room, where the dance floor lay, was already crowded with young people dancing. Of course the rest of the place was crowded as well, but the dance floor was definitely the most packed part of it. Hopefully Mathias had worn shoes with good support to them, yes? Because Beatriz wasn't about to let him sit around on the sidelines![/center]

[Denmark]

Mathias wrapped his fingers around the tall glass as she considered her answer to his question. This girl, Beatriz, must be a mind reader to have chosen that exact moment to order him iced water. It was possible that he was obviously wilting in this unfamiliar humidity, but he hoped it was the mind-reading that had prompted the thoughtful act.

“I would make sure to have as much fun as I could right away, sabe?”

Her reply was swift. He chuckled. The answer fitted perfectly with what he'd been planning for himself tonight on the flight over. Now that he thought about it, though, it seemed like forever since he boarded that plane. Fatigue was trying to press on. He imperceptibly shook himself; this might be his only night out in Brazil, especially if Anders had any say in the matter. He wasn't about to waste it by letting a little tiredness and heat bring him down. Besides, how often did a guy like him come across a girl like Beatriz? A little cold water would be sure to chase that niggling drowsiness away. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was dehydrated.

He brought the chilled water to his lips, drinking deeply, and was taken by surprise as she quickly got to her feet and moved into his shoulder.

“First, we go dancing!”

The suggestion, which sounded more like an order, almost made him spit out the mouthful of his drink.

Swallowing hard, he looked over the top of her head to the dance floor where a throng of young Brazilians were already moving in time to the music. His spirits sank. He would have much preferred to leave the bar and explore somewhere else. Not only did it look particularly warm in that part of the club amid the press of bodies but he knew that he was too sober and too stiff to be able to dance well. At this point in the night he would be self-consciously awkward and ungainly, with none of the Latin smoothness that the other young clubbers were exhibiting. He was loathe to making himself look like even more of an idiot in his new friend's eyes.

“Não! Beatriz, I don't know if that's a good idea, I -”

“Apresse-se!” She cut over his excuse. “Sitting around drinking is too boring.”

In his experience, sitting around drinking was never boring. He looked down at her, then cast an agonized look between the bar and the dance-floor. She seemed pretty set on dragging him out to dance, and if he read her correctly she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. If he didn't acquiesce he felt he would lose her. He didn't even need to fully consider the options to decide was worth a little more embarrassment to spend longer in her company. Besides, who was there to see him? He didn't know anyone in this city. He could do anything and no one would be able to give him any stick about it for very long.

“I – Well, fine.” He drained the remains of his caipirinha and water in quick succession, hoping it would be enough to keep him alert but relax him at the same time.

“But I should warn you,” he waved a cautionary finger in front of his nose, “I've seen samba and forró, and I think it's quite impossible to move that way. You Brazilian girls must be magical. I'm more of a stand-er and a sway-er. What is it they say about dancers; the man's the frame and the girl's the picture? I'll make an excellent frame. Solid, even. So it's lucky you'll make an excellent picture.”

He pushed himself off the stool and took a few steps into the crowd, turning back to Beatriz and offering her his hand with the warmest smile he could muster. “But if you're happy to dance with a statue," he gave a small apologetic shrug, "I might even try to loosen up a bit.”

[Brazil]

Mathias protested, but thankfully he agreed to dance. It was thankful for him, that was: no matter how strange and interesting her new drunkard friend was, Beatriz wasn't going to spend time hanging around a man that wouldn't dance with her. No Brazilian girl in her right mind would, yes? It would be very regretful, because there was something very strange about the man, but...

“But I should warn you, I've seen samba and forró, and I think it's quite impossible to move that way. You Brazilian girls must be magical. I'm more of a stand-er and a sway-er. What is it they say about dancers; the man's the frame and the girl's the picture? I'll make an excellent frame. Solid, even. So it's lucky you'll make an excellent picture.”

[/color]

"Dancing in clubs isn't as complicated as you think, sabe?"[/color] Beatriz replied, letting her irritation with the man's hesitation bleed into her voice, "And don't say you can't do something so easily!"[/color]

Still, he got to his feet and began moving toward the dance floor all on his own, so Beatriz could overlook that part. Foreigners were so timid nowadays, and she found it could be quite frustrating when it came time to dealing with them. There must be a way of encouraging Mathias to loosen up...well, there was always that method, the one that normally worked perfectly well.

Beatriz took Mathias' outstretched hand while her eyes ran over him in an obviously appraising fashion. Rather handsome, that was important. A smiler and a joker, also good. Here for a few days and inexplicably interesting...she smiled. Her new Danish friend should have a wonderful time during his visit, yes? Beatriz would make sure of it.

"Get very loose, sabe? Brazilian girls don't like timid men."[/color]

That instruction came with a smile, and something else as well - Beatriz stepped up close, leaned up, and planted a kiss on Mathias' lips. His lips tasted mostly like caipirinha, but Beatriz didn't maintain the contact long enough to figure out what else was there. Stepping back with a grin, she immediately began bodily pulling Mathias to the dance floor and in amongst the tightly-packed mass of dancing Brazilians.

Of course club dancing was different: there was no room to do fancy dances in clubs because they were always full of Brazilians who wanted to dance! Hopefully Danes didn't have issues with physical contact like the Japanese, or else Mathias was going to get very uncomfortable very quickly, yes?[/center]

[Denmark]

He caught sight of the change in her expression. Fortunately, the spark of irritation that had arisen in her eyes was replaced by a smile at his offered hand, but it had lingered long enough for Mathias to make a mental note to never again attempt to disarm her with weaselling excuses. How difficult women are: come on too full of yourself and they think you're a jerk; come on too humble and they lose interest. How did you find the happy medium? The book hadn't covered that at all.

It looked like he was going to have to give in to her commands or she would take off. He shrugged internally; he wasn't used to taking orders but she was cute enough that he was happy to indulge her - for a short while, at least.

Oohf. Maybe he'd stood too abruptly or perhaps that caipirinha was having more of an effect than he had thought. He felt pleasantly light-headed. Maybe dancing wasn't such a bad idea after all?

Beatriz took his open hand, flicking her eyes over him with a sweep of dark lashes and looking suddenly coy.

"Get very loose, sabe?"[/b] She stepped toward him, getting very close. "Brazilian girls don't like timid men."[/b]

Without even giving him time to register the descriptor 'timid', she leaned up, closing the height difference and placing an unexpected kiss against his closed mouth with warm, smooth lips. She pulled away before he had a chance to respond, a satisfied grin playing over her features, and began hauling him onto the dance-floor. A wide smile spread slowly across Denmark’s own face, chasing way any tiredness or thoughts of sitting comfortably at the bar. He glanced around, catching sight of Vitor 's group and flashing them a triumphant grin before returning his attentions to the girl tugging at his arm.

She was certainly unpredictable. He liked that. And so forward, too. He’d never met anyone quite like her. It was exhilarating. The wattage of his smile increased exponentially.

Beatriz pulled him onto the dance floor for a few half-dazed paces while he fought the urge to high-five total strangers. He stopped dragging his feet and began to actively follow her into the maze of bodies. He tightened his grip on her fingers as he skirted around a group of people crossing his path. It would be a shame to lose her in the crowd.

“Vitor was right to warn me about you,” he called after her teasingly, wondering if his voice would reach her over the music. “You are dangerous!”

[Brazil]

Beatriz stopped pulling her Danish friend along when she finally found a gap in the crowd that had enough room for two people. Not that it was a wide-open space by any means, but it was enough that they would not get totally entangled into other couples without some effort on their parts.

The kiss had done just the trick: Mathias was now eager and excited to dance. He was holding her hand tighter now that they were in the crush of dancers. Beatriz kept her grip firm as well: no point in losing her new source of interest this far along, yes?

“Vitor was right to warn me about you. You are dangerous!”

[/color]

Hearing Mathias's voice over the noise of the crowd, Beatriz's response started off with a quizzical expression that morphed into a smile after a few seconds. Dangerous, was she? That was certainly one way to put it...of course, the levels of dangerous that she could be wasn't something Beatriz could share with most humans, including her new Danish friend here.

In the end, she just returned his words with a mischievous look. It was then that the next song suddenly began to blare out from the speakers, rousing the dancers that had started to tired back into a dancing frenzy. Not losing her grip on Mathias, Beatriz let the music carry her through.

One song led to the next, and then a third, fourth, fifth...with the lights pulsing, it was impossible to tell time in anything but the number of songs. Beatriz's attention wasn't so focused that she didn't note the appreciative stares some of the girls here were giving her new friend: Brazilian girls liked what they liked and made no secret of it, just like Beatriz herself! Some of the boys were staring as well, something that made Beatriz laugh merrily.

Eventually, she noticed that Mathias was moving more sluggishly. It was a shame, but it wasn't something either of them could help: if the Danish man didn't have the energy to move, then he wouldn't move. Fortunately for him they'd gradually drifted to the edge of the dance floor, so wrapping an arm around his weary waist and nudging him out of the crowd was a simple task.

"Your stamina is pretty good, sabe? Most people can't keep up with me this long,"[/color] Beatriz told him.

...Actually, that was true. Normally her dance partners lasted only a few songs before they begged for a chance to sit down. Mathias must be made of some pretty tough stuff if he'd lasted this long! Though now he was looking almost ready to pass out...though he'd last longer if Beatriz got him off his feet and got some coffee into him, yes? The night was still young!

"I think you might want to try one of the other things Rio has to offer next, sabe?"[/color] Beatriz offered.

Her words weren't meant to be unkind, but it was probably obvious that she didn't think her new friend was physically capable of dancing any longer. Although getting him anywhere else might be tricky...[/center]

----
- Brazilian girls show their interest by staring at you directly, from what I read.
- Also, I couldn't really RP out the dancing so I skipped it~ Hope that's alright~
- Let's leave the club and go paint the town red~! XD

[Denmark]

After a few seconds to process his remark, Beatriz responded with a flirtatious smile. It looked like he had managed to deliver a compliment which pleased her, or was at the very least amusing. Her reaction was curious. Mathias wanted to pursue it further but there was no more time to talk as the brief pause between songs came to an end. The Brazilian couples to the side of them started up again, tireless and disconcertingly sinewy in their movements, and any words that he'd intended to say would have been swallowed by the noise before they'd left his lips. Beatriz wasn't listening, anyway. The Brazilian girl was swept away by the music. With a small shrug, Mathias followed her lead.

His own excitement and the caipirinha combined with the kiss to do what the alcohol alone had not managed. Unselfconscious, dancing was easy. He wasn't so far past tipsy that he didn't notice the looks his beautiful dance partner was attracting. He also seemed to be getting a fair amount of attention, which he assumed was because of his roguish good-looks rather than any inappropriate dance moves. He didn't bother glancing at the girls looking him over, convinced he'd found the jewel of Brazil already. He was enjoying himself far too much to care about the extra attention and soon failed to notice the eyes upon them altogether. He reached for Beatriz's waist, drawing them closer together as one song moved into the next. It was easy to lose track of the time they spent in the club until he began to feel a little dizzy. Jet-lag, it seemed, had finally caught up with him.

He struggled on for a few more songs but eventually his energetic new friend noticed that his pace ha begun to slack off. Mercifully, she took pity on him, winding an arm around his waist and pulling him away from the dance floor. He allowed himself to be lead to the side of the bar reluctantly; he'd been enjoying himself.

“Your stamina is pretty good, sabe? Most people can't keep up with me this long.”

Mathias didn't doubt it. He had much better endurance than any human, even with his body shot from the travel and the unusual humidity. It was interesting that Beatriz still appeared to have energy to burn. More than interesting, actually. It was downright suspicious. He didn't have time to puzzle over her inhuman vigor for very long as the pretty Brazilian couldn't seem to bare standing still.

“I think you might want to try one of the other things Rio has to offer next, sabe?”

He couldn't help but laugh. “Yeah, I think I've been out-danced.” For now, anyway, he thought to himself, knowing it would probably only take a few minutes rest and perhaps something to eat or drink to refuel himself before he'd be good for at least another few hours. He smiled though, thinking of the list he'd reeled off to Anders when they'd first stepped through customs. Maybe he'd get to tick a few of those off tonight. The kiss had already been a welcome bonus.

“As for what next,“ Unfamiliar with the city, the Dane shrugged and carelessly issued a challenge. “ I'm up for anything you can think of.”

He grinned down at her, eager to hear what she had in mind. It was going to be difficult to follow through with that promise, however, if he didn't take some time to recuperate. The air in this club, hot and stale, wasn't helping.

“I need to get some fresh air first, though. Maybe sit down and breathe for a bit. A drink or something to eat, maybe. You want to get out of here?”

---

Secretly, I was filled with relief when I saw how you'd cleverly skipped the dancing. I have no idea of how Danish men dance!

[Brazil]

Mathias was quick to agree that he couldn't keep going. Since he seemed so keen to impress her, Beatriz had half-wondered if the Danish man would insist that they keep going. Good thing he hadn't, yes? Watching him collapse on the dance floor like an idiot wouldn't have been interesting at all.

When he said he was up for anything she wanted to do and grinned cheerfully down at her, Beatriz immediately grinned right back up at him. Such a cocky attitude...if he wasn't careful, she was going to take him up on exactly what he'd said. Though not right away...Beatriz wanted the poor fellow to live through the night at least, yes?

"I need to get some fresh air first, though. Maybe sit down and breathe for a bit. A drink or something to eat, maybe. You want to get out of here?”

[/color]

A thoughtful expression appeared on Beatriz's face as she considered this. That didn't sound too bad...and here in Rio she knew a place that also served some very delicious - and more importantly, very strong - coffee. Getting there would be the hard part: Beatriz hadn't expected to pick up any new friends tonight, or else she would have attached the sidecar to her motorcycle before leaving Brasília.

...Then again, Mathias had just said he was up for anything she could think of, yes?

"I know a place we can go, sabe?"[/color] Beatriz finally replied.

Exiting the club was easy enough. The bartender saw her wave his direction and nodded - the drinks would be added to her tab, as always. Once Mathias was ready to leave, Beatriz confidentially led the way out into the balmy Rio night.

Of course, this was Rio - even though it was probably sometime around midnight at the earliest, the city was still very much alive and kicking. Friendly greetings and interested stares hovering around Beatriz like a cloud as she led the way to where her motorcycle was parked. The gleaming black and silver machine was more than capable of carrying two people - even if both of them were as tall as Mathias was.

Beatriz did have to wonder if Mathias would mind riding without a helmet. She rarely bothered with one herself, finding them annoying and preferring to feel the wind in her hair - and carrying a helmet because you might need to give a passenger one was much too bothersome, yes?

"Do you know how to drive motocicleta?"[/color] she asked, momentarily curious.[/center]

----
- EXTREME liberties being taken with parking availability, Rio's layout, and suchlike here.

[Denmark]

Beatriz looked serious as she mulled it over, taking her time to work through his suggestion. “I know a place we can go, sabe?”

“Great! Where are we going?”

It might have taken her some time to come to that conclusion but now it was all action. Beatriz waved at the bartender familiarly and he nodded back. Mathias watched with bemusement, completely having forgotten about the drinks he had yet to pay for. He wouldn't remember until later, when he looked at his credit card statement and realized he'd left her with the bill with uneasy guilt.

All that was far from his mind. He followed her cheerfully as they wound their way through the bar and into the slightly cooler open air. It was still unbelievably hot by his standards but at least the air was fresh.

It was busy out here, too. He'd heard that the night didn't even begin in Rio until after midnight and it looked like there was substantial truth in the rumours. The streets were still as vibrant as ever and Mathias found he had to follow close behind Beatriz or risk being separated by the crowd, all who seemed to know who she was. He wondered if she was some kind of local celebrity – maybe with some drug habit that would explain her inhuman stamina on the dance floor – but she seemed too real and down-to-earth for that to be so. Maybe that was just how Brazilians were. She certainly was a pretty girl and it wasn't unexpected that she would garner some attention. Maybe this was just how it was in Brazil?

“Do you know how to drive a motocicleta?”

Oh.

“This is yours?”

She had led him to dangerous-looking black and silver bike and now looked at him curiously. He wanted to impress her, tell her 'yes, of course'[/color] so she would hop on behind him and hold onto his waist and they could hoon off heroically, but the truth was he'd never been on a road bike. Dirt bikes, sure. Being more-or-less indestructible meant you had a bit more freedom to try stupid motocross stunts. The Dane was always interested in any activity that earned him attention and admiration.

There was little difference between a trail bike and a road bike except that this machine was much faster. He had no fear about riding it – he would heal no what he did to himself and had more than enough money to buy a replacement if he crashed it – but trying and failing would not impress this girl. Worse, if she were on it with him and something went wrong the consequences could be disastrous. Attempting something new when already this tipsy would not be smart. Mathias traced a finger over the seat reluctantly. He would have to keep to dirt bikes and regular bicycles for the time being.

“Not a road bike,” he admitted finally, dispelling his fantasy of having Beatriz cling to him as they raced through the city streets. “Only off-road stuff.”

He turned from the motorcycle to focus on her with a bright grin, hoping to draw her attention away from this failing.

“So, where are you taking me?”

---

Brazil... you're a genuis!

[Brazil]

It was only natural for the crowd to respond to her: even if humans didn't know who or what she was, Beatriz was their nation. Her people were as much a part of her as her lands. Since Beatriz was happy, her people responded cheerfully. The only problem with being able to influence their moods was that it took most of the fun out of flirting with them. Hardly a challenge to win the affections of those who already subconsciously adored you, yes?

Foreign men, like Mathias here, were much more interesting that way. And her Danish companion tonight still radiated that strange sense of oddity that stirred Beatriz's interest more than usual.

She watched how he looked over her bike, studying the frame and running his hand over the seat carefully. It wasn't the motions of something completely unfamiliar with such vehicles, but...

“Not a road bike,”

[/color] he finally answered her, confirming Beatriz's suspicions.

"Off-road? Fun, sabe?"[/color] Beatriz responded.

She'd never ridden a bike meant for going off-roading before - the opportunity to do so had simply never come up before - but it certainly looked thrilling from the sidelines. And Mathias did this himself...an adventurous type, perhaps? Of course, the result was the same no matter - Beatriz's momentary vision of sitting behind Mathias with the wind rippling through her hair was not going to be happening tonight.

“So, where are you taking me?”[/color]

The question made Beatriz wonder for a moment...then she realized that she hadn't told Mathias a thing about where they were going next. Laughing, she grinned apologetically back at the Danish man.

"I know a little place here in Rio,"[/color] Beatriz informed him, "The chairs there are very comfortable...and they have delicioso coffee, sabe?"[/color]

Stepping over to her motorcycle, Beatriz swung a leg over and sat herself down...scooting forward to leave a little extra room on the seat. It wasn't exactly made for two people, but Beatriz had carried passengers this way plenty of times before tonight and being pressed together on the same seat had never killed anyone, yes? She felt quite certain that Mathias wouldn't mind it.

"Ah...I have no helmet for you, but I will drive more slowly tonight,"[/color] Beatriz informed Mathias as he got himself settled, "Hold on carefully so you don't fall off, sabe?"[/color]

Whether or not he was reassured by that, Beatriz turned the key in the ignition and felt her black and silver beast rumble to life beneath her. As soon as there was a clear spot in the flow of traffic, Beatriz eased the motorcycle out and away from the curb.

Riding a motorcycle was much more convenient than driving a car. It was simple as thought to slip through the gaps between cars and pick up speed. The warm wind flowing past sucked away any weariness. True to her word, Beatriz did not drive as fast as she usually did...though that might not have been much comfort to her passenger, since normally Beatriz drive as fast as she could.

What a fine night, yes?[/center]

[Denmark]

Beatriz's initial confusion suggested she had forgotten that she had yet to share her plans. She laughed apologetically as the realisation dawned and explained. "I know a little place here in Rio. The chairs there are very comfortable... and they have delicioso coffee, sabe?"

Mathias nodded eagerly, thinking that sounded like a fantastic plan. Hopefully the coffee would be strong as well as delicious, and be enough to sail him through this slight slump in energy levels. He would never be able to forgive himself if he wasted his one night out in Brazil because he couldn't handle the jetlag and the heat. It was almost a given that Anders would find out about tonight's escapades and sentence him to hotel-arrest for the rest of the trip; he had to make the most of the evening.

Caffeine would be great right about now.

Smoothly and with the air of someone who has done it a hundred times, Beatriz swung a leg over the bike and sat down, moving forward to give him space to hop on behind her. Mathias did so with less grace, not being familiar to riding as a passanger. Once seated he wrapped his arms around her small waist without feeling selfconscious- they had, after all, been dancing closely enough that she would have pushed him away before now if the contact made her feel uncomfortable.

"Ah... I have no helmet for you, but I will drive more slowly tonight."

He shrugged. "That's okay."

"Hold on carefully so you don't fall off, sabe?"

Obediently, he tightened his grip and she started the bike. The motor took easily and they were soon weaving through the traffic. The air ruffled his hair and woke him up a bit as they began to pick up speed.

Several times he found himself gasping and grabbing her even more tightly as they turned quickly or got close to car - not out of fear for himself, but for this bright and engaging young Brazilian girl who he was beginning to rather like. Which reminded him, he really should ask how old she was. Vitor had found the question amusing but she did look very youthful. Mathias had no interest in being a predator or cast as one.

"Careful, Beatriz!" he said after what seemed like a particularly near miss, though the wind probably stole his words away. "Don't hurt yourself!"

If this was her 'slowing down' because he didn't have a helmet then he was very concerned about the danger she was putting herself in when she wasn't taking passengers. Still, the bike kept going and he found himself enjoying the thrill of the ride, relaxing into it as she proved herself to be a skilled rider.

He grinned widely when they came to a stop, exhilirated. "That was great fun! But," he added with a twinge of worry for the girl he assumed was several centuries his junior and mortal to boot, "be careful on that thing! I'd hate for you to get hurt."

He swung his leg off the bike when the motor was killed and offered a hand to her, to help her off and so that she could guide him to the delicious coffee that had been promised.