I Didn't Know I was Pregnant: UKUS

How can a man not know he was pregnant? With no cravings, no weight gain, and no symptoms. This is a true story of a man going into labor with not even knowing he was pregnant.

Let us step back in time, we are not going farm but we are going back. The exact number of year: eighty. Yes, we are going to the year 1932. Have fun on this trip and, no, this in not "The Twilight Zone."

Doctor Different really did not know what to think in this predicament. It was horribly a weird situation, not one you typically go upon, yet here it was, presenting itself. "Dear Lord in mighty Heaven," the doctor started, "What a miracle you have given, a miracle that defies all scientific logic but still thank you for. Bless these two idio- young men, they'll need it."

And those two young men just continued to sit in a dazed stupor like the idiots they wer- like any normal person would be. One, the blue-eyed guy with the sunny-blonde hair, still looked disgruntled from the earlier events and a bit hurt – well, no surprise there. The other, a green-eyed, dusty-haired fellow, was biting his lip, one arm around his partner, the other supporting a bundle of blankets that was continuously fighting for attention and undoubtedly food.

It had been, for the most part, silent since Universally's prayer, until the green-eyed man inquired in an English accent, "A-Any tips, doctor, for this?" His face had hints of hope in it.

Doctor different thought about this. Then he answered, "Plenty of rest for America, food for the girl, and I suggest reading books on parenting." Doctor Different regarded the Anglo-American couple before adding, "Congrats, men, you have a healthy baby girl to take care of."

As if on cue, the bundle in England's arms released a cry – she had gotten impatient and down-right demanded food.

"See ya," the doctor said, leaving the new family to their devices.

Earlier That Day…

It was a regular lazy day. America was lounging on the sofa looking bored while England sat next to him, sipping tea and reading a book. Letting the boredom get the better of him, America asked, "What are you reading?"

"Tarzan, the Ape Man," was the reply.

"Cool." Silence – immediate silence. "What's it about?"

"An ape man." More silence.

America sighed. "What does the ape man do?"

England sighed and doggy-leafed the page, setting down next to him. "Well, these English explores decide to go to Africa to study apes and the female – surprise, surprise – gets kidnapped by Tarzan, the human raised by apes. And that, dear Alfred, is where you cut my reading off."

"Cool, so Tarzan's like a superhero?" America looked hopeful for he possibly had a new hero to fawn about.

"No, you daft fool! He kidnapped the girl! He could do countless things to her, including torture, rape, and murder. How, pray tell me, is he a superhero?" England frowned at his partner – honestly, what went through his head?

"Oh," the sunny-blonde said lamely, his face falling in despair. "That's not cool. I hoped he was going to be a hero. He has a cool name like one, right? Tarzan. TAR-zan. Tar-ZAN. Taaaarzan. Tarzaaaaan. Tarzy! Zany! Tarzan. Ta-" America was interrupted by a smack upside his head. "Ow! Arthur, that is so not cool! In fact, it hurts."

"Belt up, twit, and let me read." Arthur opened the book back up and continued reading.

Damnit, Alfred thought. Now I'm bored again. He squirmed in discomfort, hating the quiet with his whole, pure heart. This was totally not productive. In any way, shape, or form. But what can I do to quench my boredom? It'll just seep its way back into my cranium. America sighed again, rubbing the stinging spot on his head from England's smack. Crap, that really hurt. And then, for some reason, the pain traveled downwards before it rested on his stomach. That's weird. Really wei- OW! Owowowowow, that hurts! The hell? America clutched his stomach, trying to make it the opposite of obvious that he was in pain. The pain subsided for a bit before it came back… and it was worse.

After about an hour of more silence and an increasing pain, America could simply not hold it in any longer. The next attack on his stomach sent him clutching his stomach for dear life, his vocal cords emitting a low groan and a swear under his breath. How is the pain increasing? Shouldn't it be dying a nasty death?

Arthur looked up from his book to stare at America in crystal-clear pain. "Alfred… love, are you okay?" It was polite to ask but really unnecessary. Arthur already knew what the answer was going to be.

"No," the American wheezed out, noting that not only was the hurt getting worse, but more frequent. "It hurts like a re-EAL bitch." He ground his teeth together.

"I-I'll call a doctor, okay," Arthur assured. "I'll do that and I'll be right back."

"Hurry," America shouted.

The girl ran down the stone-etched path to her fathers, shouting, "Daddy! Father! I wanna be an actor like Shirley Temple!" She made an abrupt stop, standing in front of them with a world-class smile on her face.

"Okay, Shirley, anything you want," America consented. The girl beamed.

England, however, swatted his partner's arm. "Don't say that! Think of this at a realistic viewpoint. It's next to improbable!" His eyebrows scrunched into a scowl. Then he turned to his daughter and his face warmed up, yet he still said, "I'm sorry, Shirley, but no."

Shirley Fay Kirkland pouted and went onto a rant about how England would be the coolest Father just like Daddy America was if he allowed her to be an actor – and not the sucky kind, the cool Shirley Temple and Fay Compton – that would be the greatest thing ever. For what other job was he expecting her to do? Be a singer? No, no, that was just stupid.

The green-eyed chap sighed. "Shirley, the answer is still no."

"B-But!"

"No."

A/N: "Season One" end. ;) Haha, sorry making you guys wait, like, 90 days... Welp, "Season Two" starts next week... hopefully... so, yeah, see ya guys next week for chappy 22. BTW, Shirley after the awesome drin-actress Shirley Temple and Fay after Fay Campton. If you guys didn't get that... Bye.