2. In which Sweden is pregnant and Finland is the father

"Sve, baby, let me help you!"

"Fin, these're our stairs," Sweden rolled her eyes, bright blue behind fashionable glasses. However, Finland's hands would not leave their places supporting her back. "Fin..." she sighed, "been up 'nd down these stairs millions of times b'fore. 'S no different t'day."

Finland furrowed his brow and frowned. "No," he said firmly, "Today is different. You're more noticeably pregnant than yesterday!"

Sweden looked down at her belly. She saw no difference in its size today than she did the day before. "Fin," she sighed.

"Don't Fin me, missy!" Finland's tone took on that of a scolding parent, "You are halfway through your third trimester and anything could happen at this point and... OHYAAAAHH, Sve, honey, it's dangerous to go alone!" He grabbed Sweden's arm, not hard enough to cause her any pain but enough that she would stay on the landing with him.

All she wanted to do was go upstairs and take a nap on the bed. Was that too much to ask?

"Fin," she placed her hands on her husband's shoulders and rubbed gently, trying to calm him down. He only jumped in surprise. "I'll be fine. Trust me."

"Oh, princess," Finland collapsed against Sweden, face buried in her warm shoulder, body placed carefully to keep out of the way of her baby bump.

Sweden raised an eyebrow, slightly amused. "Not a princess," she said.

"Queen, then?" Finland dropped to one knee and took Sweden's hand, which he kissed tenderly. "Empress? Oh gosh, Sve, you're my whole world and so is our baby," he stroked Sweden's bulging tummy with a loving hand, "I wouldn't be able to take it if anything happened to either of you."

"Y'don't need t' treat me like I'm made 'f glass," Sweden helped Finland up to the best of her ability and kissed him on the cheek. "'M still climbin' those stairs."

"But, Sve!" Finland held her still by her hands, "at least let me help you up, dearest!"

Sweden was unfazed. "There're seven stairs. I need t' climb seven stairs." She broke free of Finland's grasp and simply walked her way up the stairs.

It took more effort than she'd thought. She stood at the top of the staircase, hand pressed to the wall to steady herself, breathing hard. Finland approached her from behind, trying to coax her to stand up straight with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Darling, are you okay?" he whispered.

Sweden finally gathered herself enough to stand up. "'M fine," she mumbled, letting Finland wrap his arms around her and pull her close. "Jus'... out of breath. Mebbe y' were right."

Finland let out a soft chuckle before peppering kisses all over Sweden's face. "Oh, sweetheart, darling, angel, honey..." he dropped every nickname in the book with such sweetness that Sweden couldn't help but blush and clutch at Finland's sweater. "It's been a long day. Let's go get some rest."


AN: Finland would be the type of dad who gives you two extra blankets on a cold night and makes you wear like five jackets before you go outside to play in the snow but still wouldn't allow you to have an extra cookie before dinner. He knows what he's doing.
Sweden's the type of mom who could make you brush your teeth just by raising her eyebrows and you're kind of afraid of her but at the same time you have the utmost respect and love for her because if something's wrong she just KNOWS and will coax it out of you with a simple look.