Disclaimer: I don't own The Secret Life of the American Teenager or the title of this story, which was inspired by the song of the same name by Oasis.

Author's note: So, these one-shots will not be in chronological order. They will also be somewhat AU, though I'm not sure yet how drastic the differences will be. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the latest edition to Wonderwall. Reviews are always lovely and my inspiration to continue!

Forehead kisses

She looks downright exhausted.

Her face is paler than he's ever seen it, and her hair is a mess, and her eyes are closed, though they do flutter open as he walks into the room.

He licks his lips and anxiously rubs his neck. "Hi," he chokes out.

"Hi." Her tired hazel eyes are focused, unwavering, on him, and then, out of nowhere, she offers him a tiny smile.

He is amazed. She's smiling at him, and he cannot fathom as to why, seeing as he's just put her through hell and back.

Ashley nudges him so that he's forced to take a few steps forward, closer to where she lays. "She looks like crap, huh?"

Looking at Ashley as if she's just sprouted an extra head, he mutters a barely audible no. No, he doesn't think she looks like crap.

She's the most beautiful girl in the world, and he's never loved her more. (Not that he would ever admit that to anybody, not even himself.)

"Shut up, Ashley," she says tiredly, but the smile never leaves her face. In fact, it only grows as her gaze fixates on something past his shoulder.

Curiously, he turns around. A nurse walks into the room and over to her bed, a tiny blue bundle cradled in her arms. "Would you like to meet your son?" she asks her.

As the nurse transfers the bundle into Amy's arms, he thinks numbly, A son. I have a son.

He goes back to staring at her. She looks down at the bundle with a brilliant smile lighting up her face. Swallowing his fear, he approaches the edge of her bed to stand beside her and peers down at the bundle.

The first thing he thinks is that the baby has super chubby cheeks. But then it hits him. Really hits him. That's his baby she's holding. That's his son.

Amy hesitates, and then without a word, lifts her arms up. His instincts scream at him to back away and run for the hills. He isn't ready for this. He isn't ready to be a father.

Instead, he whispers, "What if I drop him?"

Her voice is soft and calm and reassuring. "You won't."

Maybe it's because she has so much faith in him, or maybe it's because he doesn't want to look like a wimp, but he gathers his courage and carefully takes the baby into his arms.

Something bursts inside him. The feeling is warm and tingling and it's stronger than anything he's ever felt, stronger than even what he feels for Amy, which completely blows him away.

"Hi. I'm your daddy," he quietly tells the baby, who blinks at him in response.

He shifts the baby back into her waiting arms. She strokes his little cheek with her forefinger, and when the newborn baby clutches it with a small hand, he all but melts.

Without really thinking of what he's doing, he leans down and cups her face in his hands. Her wide hazel eyes stare up at him, startled, but she doesn't jerk away. So, still feeling warm and tingling, he gently presses a kiss to her forehead. "You did a good job, Amy," he murmurs softly as he pulls back.

"Thanks," she replies, just as softly.

Of course Ben decides to walk in that moment, but neither of them takes notice of him glaring daggers at the new little family. Amy is grinning madly and biting her lip the way she did when they first met, and a faint blush colors her cheeks. He, meanwhile, offers her his trademark smirk and plays it cool as he always does.

After all, he has to do something to mask the erratic pounding of his heart.