A/N: Requested as "April vs. PTA moms."

This is another case of the "Oh God, that's fantastic I must write it now!" So, yeah. Then it turned into kid fluff, so... I guess? Whatever, I think it's cute.

"Wait... you want to go talk to them?" Andy asks, incredulous but smiling wide. "I thought you hated this stuff."

"Yeah, well Robbie's been hanging out with one of the millions of white suburbanites so I figured I may as well learn to not vomit when I see his mom," April shrugs, putting one hand on her stomach instinctively. "Besides, when I'm pregnant I get sappy. Maybe I'll, ugh, like one of them."

"God, you are never hotter than when you're cute. Except when you're creepy... ooh, how about both?" he wiggles his eyebrow and she smirks.

"Well, they might be witches. I might be able to join their coven," April nods and looks back over her shoulder briefly. "I don't think I'm super up for sacrificing my firstborn though. Thoughts?"

"What? Babe, no-"

"I'm kidding. Andy, I'm kidding," April shoves him playfully, neatly transitioning to grabbing his collar to bring him down for a kiss. Honestly, one of the best parts of being pregnant was the insane sex drive she got, and not that it was miniscule before but when there's kids around all the time sometimes she's just so beat that things are a little tamer than usual. "Seriously, I'm just gonna go talk to them. Besides, you've gotta go help set up stuff for the play tomorrow right?"

"Oh right. Babe, you're amazing. You are so smart," he kisses her on the cheek and runs across the wide auditorium-slash-gymnasium (no way in hell is April calling it a fucking gymnatorium).

Meanwhile, April takes her glass over to the table where the almost cliquish group of mothers sits. She walks across the gymnasium, again used to her ankles wanting to give in and her back just demanding to be allowed one day's break, towards the little poker table. One of them stares at her, Margaret or something was her name. Margie? Maggie? Whatever, April really doesn't care that much. To be honest, she always wanted to be a part of a coven. A little blood sacrifice, as long as it had nothing to do with her kids, would be okay by her.

Pulling one of the little plastic chairs out from the table, April hates the feeling of squishing into it but only stares down the black-haired Margarine until the other woman's weak glare dies off. Taking a sip from her water, she leans forward to put her glass on the table and still no one's said a word.

"So... what are you gals talking about?" April dons her best bland, stereotypically generic American accent with wide eyes and a hand on her stomach still. It's really a habit now, and after three already she's picked up quite a few. "Anything juicy?"

"Um... well, we were actually just discussing why we allowed your husband to destroy half of the props," Magdalene looks over across the floor, April turning to look at Andy draped in tinsel and running around with Jack, Robbie, and three other kids that aren't theirs. To be honest, Andy with that many kids around him is a strangely heartwarming sight, and he's so happy.

"That stuff's like a dollar, I'll pay for it if we need more. Seriously, look how happy those kids are," she returns in that slowly failing accent that somehow got caught up in a Southern drawl at the end there. April's accents were always suspect at best, anyways. "Besides, it'll tire him out and I'm already beat. You know what I mean, girls?"

There it is again, that bizarre twang. It's impossible to mistake, but April just runs with it. Whatever, Midge sucks. That much April knows.

"Ugh, I'm always beat. I've got this cute gardener who's... hmm, well it's a little too racy for this table," the blonde one on the right that April's trying to get on better terms with says. "How about you, April?"

"How about me what?" April grimaces, letting that twinge of confusion take over. She's not stupid - she knows this lady's fucking her probably underaged gardener - but now she's just uncomfortable.

"Oh, you can't land any boys anymore?" Mable says with a wry smile.

"First off, I like men, Molly," April says with a distinctly poisonous taste in her mouth. "Secondly, unlike you my husband's an amazing lay and I actually give a crap about him. Because you're terrible."

"It's Nancy," the black-haired woman corrects. Where the hell April got all the M's from she doesn't know, but now she doesn't know if she wants to bother with these people.

"I don't really care," April shrugs. "Since I know you've all got awful husbands or wives or whatever, I know you won't care about me asking this: when do the rituals start?"

They just look at each other and then at April before Nancy speaks up. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, so you're more of a Stepford kind of deal," April nods, understanding now.

"No...?"

"Wait, so you guys aren't, like, cannibals at least?" April asks with hope in her voice, sitting up a little more.

"No."

"I'm not gonna go back to your house and find people strung up in the basement?"

"What the f-"

"What about, like, one murder that you have to cover up and now you're all in a blood pact never to tell your horrible secret?"

"No!"

"No corpses? No blood? No witches? Ugh, you're all so boring and you're a bunch of dumb cheating idiots," April stands up and walks away in a huff, annoyed at it all. Walking over to where Andy is running around with a large, paper tree under his arm and Jack in the other, she taps Roberta's shoulder and takes her hand.

Those women were all stupid, but now they might be afraid of her. Maybe she could start the next PTA clique and have them all under her fist as the slaves to her every whim, terrified she might kill any one of them or offer them to some unknown blood god. Then Andy comes through the double doors, Jack running beside him with that childish glee all over his face and little Sam sitting on his shoulders. Since no one could babysit for them, Andy figured he would be able to handle them. Obviously, April's going to help and love it and she loves being around her children - and seeing them so happy around Andy confirms it every single day - but there's something comforting in being able to just ask him to take care of them for a few hours while she does just about nothing.

"Hey babe, how were the parents teaching adults people or whatever," he asks, Sam's ankles in his hands and tickling her feet absentmindedly. Little squeals, giggles, emanate and April grins at the sight of her daughter - all frizzy hair and that cute little blue dress - smiling. "Were they witches?"

"No, they're just stupid old people," she slumps her shoulders.

"Mom, you're old," Jack pipes up, looking up at her.

"Yeah, you're old," Roberta repeats, laughing.

"Yeah, but mommy and daddy are cool old people," April reminds them with a tilt of her head. "Who else lets their kids dig up their whole yard to make a mud pit?"

"And who else helps their kids dig it up?" Andy nods, a huge grin spreading its way across his face. "So, um, you wanna just sit down for a bit babe?"

"What? I can do something, right?"

"No," Roberta stands in front of her with her finger pointing towards her belly. "Babies can't get hurt! Daddy said so."

"Did he?" April raises an eyebrow, but honestly she's happy she's not going to do anything - part boredom, part being actually tired.

"I mean, you can do whatever. Obviously, I mean, duh-"

"Well, your sisters need to sleep for a bit, guys. So, I think I'm gonna sit here and watch you set stuff up for tomorrow," April gently lowers herself down with the imagined help of Roberta and Jack. As long as they thought they were doing something - mostly just touching her legs - then it's fine by her. Besides, it's stupidly cute. "I'll take Sam, babe."

He lets her down into April's arms, where she quickly snuggles her close to her chest and kisses the top of her head. Looking down with a small smile, Sam laughs again and April just can't get enough of that sound. Jack's laugh was great when he was a few years younger, and Robbie always had it, but something about the sheer joy in Sam's makes her heart flutter against her ribs. It's a feeling she won't ever want to give up, and April dearly hopes that the twins' laughter is just as addictive.

At least that was way cooler than whatever bullshit those crazy people - seriously, why marry someone that could even suck at all? If anything, April feels bad for them. She gets her family, Andy, and never really sees the need for anything else. It only reminds April of one thing: people are truly terrible.