I've pretty much given up on historical notes, at this point.

For such a big guy, Sweden was surprisingly hard to find when Poland was actually looking for him. Chewing on his lip, Poland looked around the meeting room. They had just finished their meeting – no less than a half hour behind schedule, of course – but most of the other nations remained, hanging around and chatting politely, or giving each other evil eyes from across the room.

Sweden had been pretty non-committal during the meeting, although he had nodded and given him what Poland assumed was a smile. Well, it totally seemed like it. Poland was even gonna ask him to lunch, but then Hungary had distracted him, and the next thing he knew, the tall Nordic nation had disappeared. Presumably to lunch, but Poland was tiny bit disappointed that Sweden hadn't even waited for him. Like, c'mon, he'd been practically all over Poland the entire week, he couldn't like, hold his horses for a minute?

Anyways. Poland tucked his hair behind his ear and impatiently packed away his materials. The next best thing was a phone call, right? Although somehow, the entire week had almost gone by and he had yet to exchange numbers with the tall Nordic nation. But he could totally just ask Finland for the guy's phone number, no prob.

And speaking of – Finland popped up right next to his elbow with a cheerful smile on his face.

"Hey, Poland! Going out tonight?"

"Finland! I wanted to ask you, like, a question."

Finland latched onto his arm as Poland picked up his briefcase. He was totally touchy feely once you got to know him, which was super cutesy but not annoying – yet, Poland thought.

"Well, let's go somewhere we can talk! Estonia, here!" Finland waved his free arm and Estonia turned towards them with a slight blush on his cheek. He excused himself from the other nations and joined the two of them as they exited the room.

"So what did you want to ask me?" Finland let go of Poland's arm and wrapped his hand around Estonia's. Estonia looked pleased and embarrassed at the same time, turning a pretty shade of pink.

"Oh yeah. Well, um, do you have Sweden's cell phone number?"

"Sure!" Finland looked puzzled. "He didn't give it to you?"

"Um, no, somehow we never exchanged numbers. Can I get it from you?"

Estonia shot him a look, but Finland beamed. "Of course!"

"But he didn't give it to him..."

"Oh, hush!" Finland bumped shoulders with Estonia, who looked slightly put out.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Poland asked, crossing his arms and glaring at Estonia.

"Well," Estonia seemed to wilt under Poland's glare and he cleared his throat. "I think the main question is, why would you want his number?" He eyed Poland suspiciously, and Finland's gaze on him intensified too.

"Um..."

"Oh Eduard, stop picking on him! It's obvious why."

"What?" Poland asked but Estonia interrupted him.

"Obvious? I was around back then, when Sweden was out conquering. He hasn't changed at all. He's still just as bad, only –"

"That's not true at all," Finland insisted.

"He didn't want to let you go, did he?"

"Well –" Finland looked annoyed. He dropped Estonia's hand. "That's different. We talked it over, and he just took awhile to adjust, that's all."

"Now he's just switching his goal to Poland."

"Um, what?" Poland was flabbergasted. "You think he's trying to take over me?"

Estonia nodded, resolute, and even Finland looked concerned, eyebrows knitting together as he studied Poland. They were quite the pair, Poland thought, acting like mother hens and butting into everyone's business. He started to laugh.

"Oh my god, really! You guys are killing me! Sweden isn't trying to conquer me, he's way too sweet to do that. Granted, his face totally looks like homicidal maniac, but you should see him around his kid. Completely different person."

Estonia and Finland exchanged glances. "You mean, the child that he bought online?" Estonia asked in a disbelieving tone, like he wasn't obsessed with online stuff. What were those weird dough things he was always buying?

"Well, whatever. So what if he bought him, at least he takes care of him. He treats him like his own son, seriously. It's weird, but..." Poland thought about their day at the park. "It's nice, you know?"

Estonia looked doubtful. Finland beamed at Poland. "It's so great how much you care for him!"

"Oh. Well, I wouldn't say – " Poland started.

"Here's his number. You should definitely call him, I know he wants to talk more with you!" Finland looped his arm back through Estonia's. Estonia studied Poland.

"You really think...you'll be okay?" Estonia asked him, concerned. He was always worrying, Poland thought. In some cases worse than Lithuania, seriously.

"Yeah! He's totally great, come on. You should give him a chance," Poland tossed his hair back and smiled. "He'd be totally fine with you two dating, I bet!"

Estonia blanched and Finland's smile slipped just a tiny bit. "S-sure, yes! I think you should get a hold of him right away," Finland said. "You two will be great together!" Finland called over his shoulder as he steered Estonia away.

"Two – whoa whoa wait –" Poland gave up as the two disappeared. "So not cool," he muttered. "We are not going out, how many times do I have to say that?" Although he wasn't exactly against the idea – well, he really didn't know the guy that well! Poland flipped his phone open and scrolled down his contacts. Just because Sweden was tall, in great shape, had a silly sense of humor that Poland liked – didn't mean he wanted to date the Nordic nation, or anything.

He took a breath and hit the send button.

The fuzzy sound of a ring echoed multiple times in his ear, until Poland was sure that Sweden was screening his call, like Poland did sometimes when he didn't recognize the number that was calling him. Ugh, he should have thought of a message to leave before dialing.

"Hello?" A thin, young sounding voice answered.

"Hello? Is this...um, Sweden?" Poland hoped it was. If not, some poor human was going to have a 'prank' pulled on him.

"'course," Sweden answered after a moment, voice dropping to a growl.

"Great. You totally sounded like someone else for a second! It's Poland, by the way. Like how are you?"

"Fine," Sweden was as typically short on words on the phone as he was in real life.

"Rad. So, like, you want to get a fika now? I was totally looking for you after the meeting, but you were gone! Or are you having dinner? Do you want to have dinner? You totally missed out last night, leaving the club early – you have got to hear what happened to Denmark and Prussia and America after –"

"The club! Why the bloody hell would he be out with you! That jerk!"

Ohhhhh. Totally not Sweden.

"Hey, this is – you're – is this Peter?"

"It's SEALAND!"

Poland winced and held the phone away from his ear. "Ouch, jeez, kid. Like break my eardrum will you."

"You suck," Peter hissed.

"Hey!"

"I don't know why Berwald even likes you – you're a daft arsehole and you talk too much and you dress weird and – "

"Hey!" Poland snapped again, louder. "What is your problem? I didn't do anything to you. Remember, you ran into me!"

Peter huffed into the phone. "That was an accident, you prat! Besides, I didn't know you would be..." he trailed off.

"Didn't what?"

"You shouldn't even be hanging 'round him!"

Poland rolled his eyes. "He invited me to do things, okay? That's what friends do."

The other end of the line was silent. "Friends?" Peter said, and he sounded unsure.

"Duh," Poland said, although it occurred to him that maybe Peter was nasty because there were so few people who acted friendly towards Sweden. It would be pretty weird to have someone randomly pop up into your life, he guessed.

"Your dad's pretty cool, you know. He's funny and generous and thoughtful...who wouldn't want to be friends with him?" Poland said, trying to reassure Peter. It was true, though, and nations like Estonia were totally wrong in thinking otherwise.

"Y-yeah," Peter said, and he sounded surprised. For a second. Then he sounded mean again. "So you better not screw anything up," he snapped.

"Huh?"

"I know Denmark! And he has an axe! And I'm made of steel!"

"Okay..." Poland drawled. "Um, can I talk to Sweden?"

"He's not here. And he left his phone at the hotel room, so he obviously doesn't want to be bothered."

"Right. So, will you tell him –"

"Bye!" And Peter hung the phone up.

Kids. "Brat!" Poland hissed, and glared at the phone. Guess he would be talking to Sweden tomorrow, then.