This is going to be a series of oneshots, with various pairings and their children. There's some implied mpreg, so if you hate it (although I love it!) just don't read. Or assume all Hetalia-beings just magically appear. Whateva.
Germany opened the front door quietly, knowing at this time of day Italians would be taking their siestas. He'd learned it was impossible to take him to the grocery store; that short attention span and tendency to make a scene just did not mesh well with shopping.
He peeked into the front room to find exactly what he'd been expecting: a mass of breathing blankets on the couch with two hair curls protruding from the top. After dropping the bags of groceries on the counter, he went a little closer and pulled back the covers to reveal the two sleeping faces. The first frowned subconsciously at having the warm blankets pulled away, while the smaller burrowed into the shirt it was clinging to.
He smiled slightly, leaning down to kiss each of their foreheads before replacing the covers. Even once they were covered, he could still see their hair spilling unto the pillow. Locks of copper mingled with the German's own blonde, although they were not from his head. The long strands led to the scalp of a siesta-ing little girl.
Germany tried not to make a sound as he stepped away, withdrawing to his office. Once inside, he began with his normal routine of paperwork and generally boring activities. It was silent except for the scratch of his pen, so he was quite surprised when he felt his knee being yanked at.
"Vati~" She seemed to be struggling to climb into his lap.
"Hmm, Fiorella?" He helped her up, laying his pen down as she shifted to sit.
"Papá's not waking up. Is he dead?" She asked.
He thought of how impossible the Italian was to wake, then shook his head.
"Oh." She laid her hands on top of his. "How was the store?"
He shrugged. "The cashier was Spanish, and the line was long. I'm guessing your day was better than mine."
"Well, Papá and I blew bubbles outside, then we colored, and then he made lunch. Then we fell asleep."
"What did you have for lunch?" He asked absent-mindedly. He was terrible at conversation with children.
She looked up at him and smiled. "Pasta, of course!"
He chuckled. "Of course."
She picked up his hands and sized them against her own. "Your hands are bigger than mine, Vati. That's not fair! Will my hands be this big someday?"
"Good. I want to be just like you and Papá when I grow up."
That was quite an amusing idea to him. It would be an impossible feat to be just like both of them, considering how they were nearly opposite in nearly everything. "But why?"
"Because you two are a perfect Vati and Papá."
"Oh. We aren't really per-"
She interrupted him by kissing his cheek and snuggling to his chest. "Ich liebe dich, Vati. You are perfect."
"Th-thank you." He smoothed her hair, rather unsure of how to respond. Where were the parenting manuals when he needed them?
The sweet moment of peace was interrupted when a high pitched scream pierced the house.
"GERMANY! GERMANY! SHE'S GONE! FIORELLA'S GONE!" The frantic scrambles and opening of cabinets could be heard from across the house.
The little girl began to laugh uncontrollably.
"Silly Papá! I'm in here!"
He entered quickly. "Oh! Good! I thought that a scary kidnapper lured you away with pasta!"
"That's sounds like something that would happen to you, Italy." Germany said, perfectly straight-faced.
She giggled even harder.
"Well, I'm making some pasta!" He exclaimed. "Want to help me?" He reached out a hand to the girl, who wrapped hers around it and nodded excitedly.
"Come with us, Vati." She tugged on his sleeve as she slipped off his lap.
He blinked, but stood up.
With their daughter between them, Germany and Italy were led off to the kitchen.
I apologize if this was disgustingly fluffy. I loved every second of writing it.
Like I said, this will be a series. Write me some requests for pairings you'd like to see, but I'm pretty sure that the next chapter will be Roderich/Elizaveta.
Fiorella is an Italian name that means "little flower." Vati and Papá are German and Italian for "daddy." But I'm sure you picked that up from context.
Also, pretty much none of their children are actually going to represent places. I'm too lazy for that. And they aren't really babies, just young children. I've always loved the idea of parent!Nations :D