What what. I'm back.
I've been wanting to post a SwedenxFinland fic here for a while and I kind of crapped this chapter out while staying up late. My friend N beta'd it, so thanks to him. 3
Something short and lighthearted because I just finished my NaNoWriMo novel and I'm somewhat written out. :P
Title taken from Teen Girl Squad because my imagination broke. :/

Chapter 1

It was just the two of them in a house too large.

Of course, he had done all the interior designing by himself, but that was beside the point.

He knew that when he sat at the dining table with his son Peter, or held him in his arms in the living room, there was nobody else flitting about their house, nothing but pure emptiness and nice furniture.

It was the same way when they were apart. When Peter was up in his room with his PC and he was downstairs eating, it felt like he was all alone; he couldn't even hear the sound of Peter's video games.

All Berwald Oxenstierna wanted was for someone to make the house a little less lonely.

"I'm leaving you, you're just way too serious and scary, Berwald."

"But..."

"Is that all you can say? Fuck it, Berwald, grow a goddamn backbone."

She left the house that day two years ago, leaving nothing but emptiness in her wake. He would rather have had it if she took the house in the divorce proceedings, but under the pretext of wanting to be "free like a bird," she left it to him along with their son. She ran away laughing and disappeared into nothing, leaving Berwald to live the lonely life of a single father in this huge house. Peter was his only solace, and some days he just wanted to sit on the couch and hold his precious son all night long, but the precocious seven-year-old had other plans, usually involving his computer games. But when he did forsake his computer for his papa, it made Berwald so happy.

There was no problem with money; interior design paid well, especially since Berwald was good at it, but it was a friendless job, working at home while Peter was off at school.

"Papa, you don't look so well."

Berwald was putting away clean dishes when he heard Peter, sitting at the kitchen island with his afternoon snack and cup of juice.

"Do I, Pete?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah. Are you sick?"

Berwald shook his head. "'m fine. Got no cold."

"Then are you sad, papa?"

Berwald froze, letting the saucer in his hand fall to the floor with a crash. It shattered.

"Papa, are you okay?"

Berwald cursed under his breath and knelt to pick up the shards of ceramic scattered across the tile floor. He threw them out and took a seat next to his son. "Ya migh' b' righ'," he said quietly, "Papa migh' b' sad..." He pulled Peter into his arms. When he was sad, hugging Peter always made things better.

"Are you lonely, papa? Do you miss mama?"

"Yea."

Peter buried his head into his father's chest. "Mama's not gonna come back, is she?"

"Don' know."

"Maybe we should get a new one."

Berwald stiffened. It was an odd and somewhat derogatory way of putting it, but sometimes the greatest wisdom came from the lips of a child.

Peter continued. "At school, Raivis told me his mama found him a new papa through the internet."

Ah, yes. The internet. Peter's favorite thing next to his stuffed bear Walter.

Maybe an e-romance was something Berwald needed to get himself out of this lonely rut. He didn't really have any friends, most people were alienated by his stoic appearance and stern looks, as his ex-wife was. He kissed his son on the forehead. "Mebbe Raiv's mama did th' righ' thing." He let go of his son and got up. "Dinn'r will b' ready by sev'n, so don' fill up. Do yer homew'rk too, 'kay?" "Where are you going, papa?" asked Peter, chewing on an animal cracker. "T' find ya a new mama."

To Be Continued