Summary: "I'm pregnant," America said, hoping to frighten England for Halloween. But what is he supposed to do when his lie makes England happier than he's ever been before? There's only one solution: Keep lying.

Note: This story isn't actually mpreg, but it does discuss the idea of male pregnancy.

"Children love their parents. Eventually they come to judge them. Rarely do they forgive them."
– Oscar Wilde

America stared at his laptop and sighed. It was already the evening of October 30, and he didn't have a plan to scare England for Halloween. Sure, he could ask Japan for help again, but even if he won, England would just spend the next year bitterly complaining that it was actually Japan who had scared him, not America. Faced with an almost impossible task, America turned to the one thing that had always given him help in really desperate situations, like when he needed to pull an all-nighter or finish a paper for his boss.

The Internet.

He and the other Al had practically invented it, so he knew the internet would never give up, would never let him down, and certainly would never run around and desert him. With Rick Astley playing in the background, America felt a surge of confidence as he started searching for good tips on how to scare his boyfriend. Unfortunately, his first search suggested that pretending to be a ghost was a good scare tactic. America hid under his blankets and shivered. He couldn't help it, ghosts were terrifying! He loved his boyfriend too much to pretend to be a g-g-ghost. Determined to beat England this year, he bit his lip, clutched his teddy bear, and tried again.

"Nothing scares a man more than finding out his girlfriend is pregnant," one website advised under a list of 10 Things that Terrify Men.

America grinned. Victory was so close he could taste it.

Then the sound of the leaves rustling in the wind made him shriek in terror. The ghost had come to get its revenge because America thought it was too scary for England! It was going to kill him and, even worse, steal all of his candy!

America spent the next few hours shivering in his bed, playing the theme to Ghostbusters as loudly as he could to scare the ghosts away. He wanted to call England, but he knew through harsh experience that a grouchy Englishman woken up in the middle of the night was scarier than any ghost. Finally, as the clock ticked to 2am, he breathed a sigh of relief and called the Ghostbuster closest to his heart.

"England! There's a ghost outside my house," America whispered into the phone. "And I don't think he's the friendly sort."

He heard a fond sigh on the other end. "Good morning to you too, dear. What have I told you about watching scary movies when I'm not there?"

"I know. But... can you keep talking? I feel better when I hear your voice."

"Very well..."

As England's crisp words and gentle intonation filled his ears, America slowly relaxed. The thought of ghosts disappeared from his mind and he returned to planning how he was going to scare his boyfriend. Last year, Japan had advised him that it was wise to strike early, when England wouldn't expect it. America decided that 2am on October 31 was about as early as he could get, other than secretly arriving at England's house at midnight (though he made a mental note to try that tactic next year).

"...and Prussia has something planned for Mischief Night. He always does. Are you even listening to me, America?"

"Yeah, I'm listening." America paused and decided to put Operation Baby Daddy into motion. "Um, I've got something really important to tell you. Are you sitting down?"

England chuckled. "There's no need to be so dramatic. I assure you that I'm perfectly capable of handling the latest news about McDonald's ad campaign."

"I'm not calling about that! Jeez. Look, this is important. Tony was messing around with some fertility technology before your last visit and he just explained to me what some of it does and we ran a few tests to double-check and…"

"Could we talk about something other than your vulgar friend?"

"Sweetie…" America said, pausing for dramatic effect. "I'm pregnant."

America could hear England's phone clatter to the floor with a loud crash on the other end of the line. He smiled to himself, proud of himself for scaring his boyfriend without any help. But just as he prepared to claim victory, England cried delightedly, "Darling, this is fantastic news! I've always wanted… I mean, it's always been my dream that… Oh, bollocks. I need to see you in person. Do you want me to come over today?"

America nearly dropped his own phone. "Uh, yeah, that sounds great," he managed to reply after a few panicked moments, realizing that he had to say something.

"Wonderful! Are you at your D.C. home?"

"Yep." Shit-shit-shit. He had to open his mouth to explain that England had gotten it all wrong, but England sounded so joyful that he just couldn't find the words.

"I'll catch the next flight. See you soon, love," England replied happily.

"Bye," America managed to choke out. He heard the click on the other end of the line and stared at his phone in shock. He had approximately seven hours to figure out how to explain that this was all just his extremely stupid idea of a scare. England was going to be pissed at him, then he was going to get pissed, and then the night would end in drunken tears.

Crap.

"What the hell was I thinking?" America asked himself as he collapsed onto his bed and stared at his ceiling. Unfortunately, all it held was his collection of glow-in-the-dark stars, and he didn't think his solution was written in the stars.

After an hour of fretting, America fell asleep while still trying to come up with a plan. That night his dreams featured a small child with vibrant green eyes and bushy eyebrows. The child laughed in a field and then ran away as it started to rain. America's chest constricted and he tossed and turned in his bed, trying to escape the horrible dream. Was it guilt? Was it an ominous omen? Was it that burrito he had eaten that was a little past its expiration date? He was almost grateful when his Lady Gaga ringtone woke him up the next day around noon, until he saw that it was England calling him from the airport.

"England, you're here!" America said in a panic that could pass for excitement.

"Oh darling, it's going to be so wonderful to see you," England gushed, uncharacteristically sentimental. "I can't wait to tell everyone the news!"

"Wait! There's something I need to tell you."

"I'm sorry, love, I need to hang up. We're disembarking. I'll see you soon!"

The phone went click.

"...I'm not actually pregnant," America told the dead phone.

Weighed down by guilt, he slowly tugged on his jeans and climbed into his pickup truck. It was still Halloween, so the scare could last all day… right? Even though it obviously wasn't scaring England. He'd just pretend it was an April Fool's Day prank that was six months early. Or something. America would figure out some way to explain it all to England tomorrow. And most importantly, he'd figure out a way to explain it so that England would still love him and wouldn't be super angry.

With those thoughts in his mind, America pulled up to the airport loading zone and soon spotted his favorite head of messy sand-blond hair.

"Over here!" England beamed as he waved America over. He pulled himself into the passenger's seat and bent over to kiss America soundly. "Oh, love, I missed you so much."

"Me too, babe," America breathed, leaning into the kiss as he slipped his hands under England's sweater vest. It felt so good to have England in his arms and England's arms around his neck and England's neck covered in kisses and love bites. They made out in the front seat like randy teenagers until the windows began to steam up and one of the parking guards knocked on the door, reminding them that the loading zone had a ten minute waiting limit. America thought about risking a parking ticket just so they could keep kissing, but England leaned back into his seat and buckled his seatbelt, signaling to America that it was time to drive home.

"This almost feels too good to be true," England said, his eyes filled with warm affection. "We're going to need to prepare a special bedroom. Oh, there's so much to do!"

"Yeah..." America nodded and kept his gaze on the road, because he wasn't sure he could lie to England's face. England asked a thousand questions on the ride back and America 'explained' that Tony had left some of his alien male pregnancy technology near America's video games and that America had accidentally turned it on during England's last visit.

"Tony saw that it was on when he came back and he did a few tests and you know the rest," America finished as he pulled into his driveway. He glanced over at England and decided that it was a good thing a person couldn't actually die of happiness. England looked like he had won the lottery, cured cancer, and received an acceptance letter to Hogwarts, all on the same day. America's stomach tightened. He loved to see England smiling and happy, but this felt wrong. He decided to end the charade now before it got worse.

He gripped the steering wheel tightly and tried to come clean. "Hey, England, you know how we always scare each other for Halloween?"

"Oh, don't worry, love. We'll have a truce during your pregnancy," England reassured him. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to our child. And that means no scary movies!" he admonished. He hopped out of the pickup truck and carried his own bag to the door before America could say anything.

This was going to be way harder than he had planned.

England paused at the doorway and grinned back at America. "Aren't you coming, love?" he asked, his eyes half-lidded in obvious invitation. America forgot all about his worries as they stumbled up the stairs to his bedroom, slamming against furniture and walls before they barely made it onto the bed and fumbled off their clothes. It was an absolutely fantastic morning and the rest of the day proved to be equally awesome.

They did everything America wanted. They played his video games and watched his movies and had another awesome round of love-making in the afternoon. And most importantly, England smiled all day long, acting ridiculously sappy as he indulged America's every whim. It was wonderful, but around supper-time America began to realize that the happiness was hollow. How could he enjoy England's happiness when it was all fake?

He curled up into the sofa as they finished watching another one of his blockbuster films. England had even refrained from making his usual derogatory comments about movies that had 'more explosions than plot'.

"Are you okay, love?" England asked in concern.

"I feel sick," America moaned.

"Poor darling, do you want me to pick up some McDonald's?" England asked sympathetically as he ran his fingers through America's hair.

"Really?" Nothing cured America's guilt-induced illnesses faster than the promise of fast food. He pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming while England chuckled. Okay, maybe there were some advantages to lying.

After an excellent meal of hamburgers, they prepared for the best part of the evening: trick-or-treaters. America had plenty of candy, lots of spooky cobwebs covering his house, and―most importantly―matching costumes for himself and England. He held up a skimpy angel outfit. "Look what I've got for you, honey," he said with pride.

For the first time that day, England balked at America's request. "Absolutely not!" he protested. "That stitch of fabric wouldn't cover a baby."

"Ah, come on, sweetie. It'll look great on you! And I've got a matching one." America whirled around, showing off his devil costume, complete with leather wings and a black wig. He was going for 'devilishly handsome' and he considered the costume a huge success. When the sexiness of the costume didn't sway England, he pulled out his pout and asked, "Don't you think parents should match?"

"Well, I suppose..." England got that sappy look on his face that appeared whenever America reminded him about their 'child', and America knew that he had won. Sure, England complained that the toga was too short―'incapable of covering both my thighs and my bum at the same time' as England put it―but the costume looked just as sexy awesome as America had imagined it would, and America had spent a lot of time thinking about England in a short toga with fluffy wings.

For the next few hours, they handed out a pile of candy to the constant stream of children. Neighborhood kids over the years had learned that America was very generous with his candy, so his house always had plenty of trick-or-treaters ringing the doorbell.

"What a sweet little butterfly!" England smiled as he complimented the children on their cute costumes. "And aren't you a handsome pirate."

England would make a good father, America realized as he admired the way the older nation interacted with kids. He was gentle, yet firm, stopping the children from taking too much candy. He loved to tell stories, frightening some of the older kids with tales of monsters and witches. He was patient and kind, giving a shy child extra time to pick out her favorite treats. As he watched England with the children, America felt an unaccustomed twinge of melancholy. He was sad that he wasn't actually pregnant. He was sad that England would never have this chance to dote on their child. England would never be able to sew him or her a cute costume, and hold the child's hand as they went trick-or-treating, and read him or her stories just before bed.

It would never be...

Except! America felt a sudden surge of excitement as a brilliant idea flashed in his brainpan. He had an alien friend. He represented a government with a freakishly large research budget. If anyone could find a way to become pregnant, he could!

And the best part was that England could keep on smiling and he would never need to know that America had lied.

"Thank you, Mr. Kirkland!" the children chorused.

America caught England's gaze as the trick-or-treaters left; he beamed at his boyfriend and poured his heart full of affection into that simple smile. "We're gonna have a baby," he whispered. England's eyes grew bright and he reached for America's hand, squeezing it lovingly as he smiled back.

And at that moment, life was perfect.

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Author's Notes

Happy Halloween, everyone! Welcome to the 'A' in my quest to write a story for each letter of the alphabet. It's mostly vowels now ;)

As I'm sure you all can guess, absolutely nothing is going to go downhill from here. Nosiree.