"Prussia! The baby's kicking. Come feel!"
Prussia looked from his paperwork to his wife. She was longing on their bed, wearing one of his old shirts and a pair of sweatpants (there had not been time to go shopping for maternity clothes). Her hands rested on her belly; she was nearly nine months pregnant. She was laughing; Prussia assumed her laughter was directed at the baby's antics.
He stood, stretched, removed his reading glasses, and went to sit on the side of their bad. Tentatively, he held a hand up; he always felt awkward touching her stomach for some reason.
Hungary, on the other hand, was terribly impatient; she took his hand and placed it on one side of her belly. Immediately, he felt the soft thumps of the baby's kicking.
"He's very strong."
"He?" Hungary asked, a gleam in her eyes. "Why do you say that?"
"I assumed he'd be an awesome boy."
"I think she'll be a girl."
"Vell, ve'll find out soon enough, won't ve?"
Her grin grew wider and, with a quick motion (who knew that pregnant women could move that fast? Or that gracefully?), she changed their positions so that she was now sitting in his lap. "Still, you will be a good father either way."
"You're awesome." He gently pressed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss.
She winced as he pulled away.
"Are you alright, Liebe?" Prussia asked, concern in his voice.
"Yeah, I'm fine. The baby decided to kick me in the ribs, that's all." She rubbed her tummy, as if to soothe the baby. "You may be right; it could be a boy after all. A girl would know better."
"Yeah right." He let her palce his hands back on her tummy. The baby had stopped kicking. "Liebe, zhere is somezhing I need to talk to you about."
She sighed and nestled closer to him. "What is it?"
"Ve'll be anchored near D.C. tomorrow."
"Yes…"
"It vill be dangerous."
"If there's fighting."
"Which zhere probably vill be. And zhat's why…I don't want you leaving zhe ship."
There was a moment of silence.
"You can't be serious!"
"I am very serious." Perhaps this was the most serious he had ever been.
"But-!"
"Liza, it would not be a good idea in your…condition. And I've already got it approved by Denmark."
"Let me speak, Gilbert." It was a bad sign that she was calling him Gilbert. Stupid hormones. "Your child is the most irritating being I have ever put up with, besides you, of course. I have carried him without complaint for nine very long months. And now, as a reward for my suffering, you're going to take away my largest source of excitement and fun? What kind of man are you?"
"The kind who would prefer to have his wife and unborn child be safe." (He made no remarks about the "without complaint" part of her speech; it would do no good.)
"Well," she spat venomously as she stood and walked towards the door, "you could have asked me first."
"Liebe!" Prussia leapt up to follow her, but was incapacitated by a frying pan.
He sprawled on the floor, watching the stars floating around his head fade.
He really hoped she wouldn't do anything rash.
Then again, it was Hungary.
Stupid hormones.
A/N: Apparently, albinos often have vision and hearing problems. And so, Prussia uses reading glasses.
And the next chapter will be very entertaining, I hope. (Because France. That's why.)
