Author note/ Disclaimer: I own nowt but my cardboard box!!

In the UK, we eat "Swedes", a turnip.

My Nan would often upset by Granddad by disguising Swede as potato, by cutting it into blocks and hiding it in his soup.

Please enjoy and review!

Due to unforeseen circumstances (caused by a cooking adventure on Christmas day), England had been unable to attend the the initial planned visit to Finland and Sweden's home on boxing day. Thus, he had to cancel his "quality time" with Sealand and swapping cooking tips with the endearing Finland.

So, instead he visited several weeks afterwards. After he finished moving in with that bloody American...

So there he was, liquorice boots pressed against pale egg-white snow. Languidly, the Englishman raised his arm and knocked the heavy Siena, oak door.

Almost at once, an excitable flaxen Finn flung the door open. Just behind him: a lanky Sweden materialized, looming over Finland protectively. The said Finn had apparently become accustomed to the gloomy aura that was being emitted from his beloved Su-san.

Pallid, Lavender eyes full of mirth and Christmas cheer met luscious Amazon-green spheres. Even the most harsh and frosted of pirate hearts would thaw from that gaze, and secretly go "Aww" inside.

"Good Morning England, please do come in!" Finland announced with the remnants of laughter ringing in his voice.

"Ah yes, Good morning to you to," England replied as genteel as one could.

In the warmth of a lemon-coloured kitchen: England and Finland stood, casually making conversation and watching over a gurgling frothing broth. Elsewhere, Sweden lingered just out of ear-shot polishing -albeit pretending- a gilded antique mirror . He was just making sure his wife was not going to be molested by any ex-pirate.

"I've always loved a good broth to heat me up during the winter", England said softly, reminiscing about the times where he and his former colony would wander into the comfort of the kitchen after a walk in the December kissed streets of London. It was rather gratifying to see plumes of crystal-like vapour escaping a boiling pot (made by a maid of course). Such a contrast from his dear friend Jack Frost.

Sweden slowly crept closer towards to kitchen after hearing tranquil conversation. Ninja Sweden.

-"But I really hate Swedes", Finland continued with a slightly scrunched up nose

Wait. What.

"Yeah," agreed England, "They sort of smell funny"

Sweden cringed. Inwardly of course. He felt as though he'd been flattened under a land-slide of Greece's cats. And maybe sat on by Cuba. His dear wife hated him!

Did he really smell bad? maybe that's why Finland had been so reluctant to hug him when they first met, oh... Finland had always said he found his earthy pine aroma relaxing, Surely pine was a good smell, people put those pine fresheners in their cars-

Finland had apparently caught sight of the Swede and resolved to fold his slight form around him, en-haling and then sighing,

"Ah, Su-san, I've been making a broth, I decided to use potato instead of Swede.

Oh.

" Alr'ght m'wife" replied Sweden, who subsequently sloped out of the room feeling a tad guilty for ever doubting the Finn. In response, a slightly disgruntled wife huffed at the pet name.

"So.." England smirked suggestively, "How's the sex"?

Finland flushed with the strongest of rose hues.

"oh..."he squeaked then swallowed. "exquisite"

.