Author Commentary: Hey everyone, Here's the next installment, and this time it's one of my all-time favorite pairs, FrUk! These two make me squee so bad.

Okay, since I got like, three out of seven replies addressing this, I did not steal the idea for this from the fic 'Baby Makes Three'. I was however, inspired to put my own ideas about the Hetalia families on the site by that fic. My fic will differ from the other fic in several ways, including what the children are like, who the parents are, and situations the families find themselves in. I'm sorry if I gave any one the wrong impression, but please, since I have now addressed the problem, don't spam my inbox with accusations. Also, I would strongly recommend the reading of 'Baby Makes Three', it's a well written story and I eagerly await each new update.

Pair: France x England

Rating: T

Warnings: Yaoi, Mpreg, human names

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Francis leaned back in his chair. Looking at the clock, he figured that his two plus one sweethearts would be home in -

Creak, SLAM.

Now.

"Mon cheri! You are back!" Francis said, acting as though he thought they would never return.

Jeanne giggled and crawled into her fathers lap, "You are so silly Papa."

Francis laughed with his daughter, "Ah, but ma cherie, how can I be anything but serious when it comes to mon doux famille?"

" I don't think you've ever been serious, you bloody git. Now help me out of these horrible shoes." Arthur growled, unable to reach his feet due to his swollen stomach, which was carrying a nine-month-old unborn life.

"But of course, mon cheri." France said, standing and pulling the comfortable slip-on flats off of his lovers feet, "These shoes, horrible? But they were fine last week."

Arthur growled again, "Well, now they're too tight, they pinch my toes." Arthur, now free of the torture devices, waddled over to the chair that Francis had recently vacated and plopped down on it heavily.

"Ah, well, it won't matter in a few days time, will it cheri?" Francis sat down on the arm of the chair and ran a hand over Arthur's bulging tummy, "Our little second addition to this odd famille will be here by then, don't you think?"

"I can't wait to see ma petite soeur. Then I can show her the fairies." Jeanne piped up, tugging at her fathers leg.

Francis laughed and picked the green-eyed angel up in his arms, "The fairies, ma cherie? Have you still not outgrown that stage? Mon Dieu! You are almost eight."

Jeanne pouted, "Mais Papa, il y a vraiment fees, aren't il Mummy?"

"Right sweetheart." Arthur said, a bit of pride in his voice, "You tell your silly Papa the truth."

Francis rolled his eyes. These two and their fairies. Oh well, "So how was it at the park today? You came home early."

Arthur sighed, "The weather looked like it was going to come down on us. I figured that we should have gotten out of there before it started to rain and either of us got sick."

The Frenchman nodded. Either of his two darlings getting sick would be bad. Jeanne because she was so young, and Arthur because he was so pregnant.

"And my feet hurt really bad." Arthur said sheepishly, so low that Francis almost missed it.

Francis threw back his head and laughed.

"D-don't laugh! It's not funny! Let's see you carry an extra sixty pounds out your front and see how your feet fair!" Arthur cried, face flushing an angry/embarrassed red.

"Oh cheri, you are so adorable." Francis said, leaning forward and pulling the fuming Englishman into a hug (Jeanne still wrapped in his other arm).

At this point, Jeanne, with her curiosity and taste for finding trouble, was squirming in her fathers arms, "Papa," she whined, "Let me down."

"Ah, Je suis desole." Francis said, setting the little blonde down on the floor, "Why don't you run along and play?" he said, two seconds too late, as Jeanne was already headed for the playroom the odd couple had set up for her.

Arthur found it was an opportune time to get up himself. After struggling for a moment, he was up and out of the chair, waddling like a pro.

"Where are you headed, cheri?" Francis asked, following his pregnant lover.

"The kitchen. I'm starving." Arthur said walking into the kitchen and pulling open the refrigerator, "Is there any stew left?"

"Non, I believe you ate it all last night." Francis said, wrapping his arms around his lover from behind, one hand on the swollen tummy, the other settled just above the protrusion.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked irritatedly, he already had an idea, but it was a knee-jerk reaction to question anything Francis did.

"What do you think, mon beau Anglais?" France whispered huskily into Arthur's ear, "Vous voir cette facon qui me met tellement chaud, je peux a peine supporter cela."

Arthur shivered, leaning back into the warm body behind him. He moaned a little when Francis, the bloody tease, started nipping, kissing, sucking, and licking down the column of his neck. He was very startled to feel a warm wetness slither down his leg.

"What the- ? Oh crap, perfect timing." Arthur thought. He elbowed Francis in the sternum sharply.

Francis grunted, "Ouch, cheri. What on earth was that for?"

"Francis." Arthur said, hoping to draw the Frenchman's attention to his dilemma.

"Yes cheri?" no such avail.

"My water just broke."

". . . . . . Ah, I see. Jeanne! Get in the car! We must go to the hospital now!"

Author Commentary: Dun dun duuuuun! Don't worry, I won't leave you hanging, I'll write in the new baby at a later time. Probably not the next chapter though.

Translations:

Mon cheri/Ma cherie; My darling

Mon doux famille; My sweet family

Ma petite soeur; My little sister (it may or may not be a girl, I'll let you ponder it)

Mais Papa, il y a vraiment fees, aren't il Mommy?; But Papa, there are fairies, aren't there Mommy? (the thought of anyone calling Arthur 'Mommy' cracks me up)

Je suis desole; I'm sorry sweetheart

Mon beau Anglais; My beautiful Englishman

Vous voir cette facon qui me met tellement chaud, je peux a peine supporter cela; Seeing you this way makes me so hot, I can barely stand it. (oh France!)

If you think anything is wrong, just tell me. I had to use a translation site because I'm not fluent in anything aside from English, so I don't know if the translations are correct.

(And thank you to whoever pointed out that a British child would say 'Mummy' instead of 'Mommy', you get a cookie)