You sighed. Tonight was the moment of truth in your relationship with your boyfriend; he was coming over to meet your parents.

You and Brett had been dating for about three moths now, and your parents (especially your mother) had been nagging since day one to bring him over.

It's not like you were embarrassed of your Australian boyfriend, you were just worried your parents would disapprove of him,

Brett could be cute, cuddly, and straight-out HOT, his Australian accent lulling you within his embrace. But he could also be annoying, a show-off, and an overall jerk at times. There had been points in your relationship that you two were on a knife's blade; a single push could send you both over the edge into a violent break-up. Nevertheless, you two always found a way to pull through and make-up.

Now, Brett had your arm hooked in the crook of his own and was aimlessly chatting with you about which animal was stronger; a shark or a kangaroo.

"Now way, a kangaroo could kick a shark six ways to Sunday," Brett argued, "The blokes' puny fins wouldn't stand a chance against 'er."

You shook your head in disagreement.

"But a shark could take a bite the size of Texas out of the marsupial, it's be dead in a matter of seconds."

"Fair enough." He finally gave in. Then he paused. "But a koala could take out both."

You groaned.

"At the same time."

"Gimme a break," you said rolling your eyes in mock annoyance, "If the koala even ATTEMPTED something like that, Chuck Norris would pop out of no where and round-house kick it in the face."

Brett gave a big, hearty laugh, making your heart skip a beat.

"You're absolutely right, Sheila!" He grinned, "He'd have the little bugger's skin and wear it around like a cape!"

By the time you arrived at your parent's front door, you both were about to double over in laughter.

"What is that racket?" Your mother complained when she opened the door. Then she noticed the Aussie next to you, still giggling a bit. "Oh!" She exclaimed, "Is that your boyfriend, (name)?"

Your red cheeks reddened even further and you mumbled something that kind of sounded like a yes.

"Yes, I am." Brett said stepping forward and taking your mother's hands in his larger ones. "And you must be the lovely sister of (name)."

Your mother blushed and you shook your head at the Australian's white lie.

"No, no, I'm her mother," Brett feigned surprise.

"Before your mother could explain in length what kinds of diets she'd been trying, you coughed and asked when she was going to let you both in.

"Oh! Right!" She gasped and swept her arm, indicating for you both to come in.

Brett hooked your arm in his own and pulled you forward through the door.

Inside, it was just as you remembered it; warm and faintly smelling of (flavor) cookies, your favorite.

Your mother ushered you both onto a loveseat in the living room, saying she'd be right back, before running into the kitchen, no doubt unloading another batch of cookies out of the oven.

After she skipped away, Brett lightly grasped your hand, making your heart thump wildly in your chest.

"You're worried that your parents won't like me, aren't 'cha, name?" He asked, making you gasp, it forced you to remember that it wasn't that the Australian man COULDN'T read the mood, he just chose not to most of the time. "Well, you shouldn't be," he continued with a large grin on his sun-tanned face, "Your mum seemed to like me well enough."

You returned the grin half-heartedly.

"I know, it's what I expected, if not better," You agreed, "But it's not my momma that I was worried about, it was my-"

You cut off by a quite loud 'ahem' behind you.

You and Brett whirled around at the same time.

Behind you, with his arms crossed across his chest, was your father; and he did not look pleased.

"Who's this hooligan?" He asked, eyeing Brett suspiciously.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out.

"That's (name)'s boyfriend!" Your mother called from the kitchen, "His name is Brandon, I believe."

Brett stood up.

"Actually, It's Brett." He said extending his hand toward your father, "Brett Kirkland. You must be Mr. last name, nice to meet you, sir." He grinned pleasantly at the older man.

Your father ignored the hand, and walked around the loveseat and stood in front of you, his eyes like daggers.

"You DID do a background check on him before bringing him here, right (name)?" You flinched when he said your name.

You groaned inwardly.

"Dad," you said, keeping a steady tone, "We've been friends, GOOD friends, since the eleventh grade, I think I'd know if he were no good by now."

Your father shrugged and sat on the couch adjacent from you. "You can never be too careful."

'Yes you can,' you thought to yourself as your mother strolled in carrying a plate stacked high with cookies, 'And you always are.'

"Ok, Brandon," Your mother said as she sat down, "Why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself?"

"Momma!" You sighed, "His name's not 'Brandon', its Brett."

"It's alright," Brett said putting a comforting arm around your shoulders, "I don't mind."

Your father gave the Australian the evil eye and coughed.

Brett, taking the hint, moved his arm away sheepishly.

"Anyway," he said regaining his warm smile, "I love being around animals and often volunteer at animal shelters and zoos-"

"Oh! How lovely!" Your mother interrupted, clasping her heart, "He's got a soft spot for animals!" She looked at you, a glint in her eye, "You've caught yourself quite a man, (name)."

You and Brett blushed in unison.

"M-Momma!" You stuttered.

Brett grinned at you, a slight blush adorning his cheeks and bandaged nose. "'Quite a man', huh?" He said, causing you to blush even more.

"Do you compete?" Your father asked gruffly.

"Yes sir, I play football." Brett replied.

Your father leaned back in his seat. "Ah, a quarter-back, eh?"

"Quarter-back, sir?" Brett repeated, confused. Then realization washed over him. "Oh! You meant American football. No, no. I play what you call soccer; back in Australia we call it football or footie." He paused. "Actually, everywhere else in the world they call it football."

"So then you're an endurance player." Your father said clucking his tongue, "Can you do anything else.

"He can throw a boomerang like you've never seen," You broke in. You felt left out of the conversation, which seemed to get more awkward by the sentence.

Your father grunted.

You quieted again, building up the courage to tell your parents the one thing that was on your mind.

"Um…momma? Dad?" You asked shakily, "There's something that I, WE , have to tell you. I'm-"

Your father stood up abruptly. "You're pregnant, aren't you!" He exclaimeed eyeing you and Brett accusingly.

"Wh-what?" You both gasped at the same time, blushing deep scarlet.

"I knew it!" He started towards Brett, rolling up his sleeves.

You got up and stood in front of your boyfriend protectivly.

"No! Dad! Nothing like that!" You exclaimed throwing open your arms, "I'm not

pregnant."

Your father stopped.

"You're not?" He asked.

You shook your head, still blushing. "Nope, zip, nada."

Your father fell onto the sofa next to your mother; who had had her hands clasped over her mouth and her eyes wide with shock during the whole 'episode'.

"If you're not pregnant," your father said, "Then what were you going to tell us?"

You bit your lip, not being able to speak.

"I can answer that, sir," Brett piped up, a little bit embarrassed about being protected by his girlfriend. "I asked your daughter, (name), if she would live with me."

Your father almost stood up again, but his wife held his arm, shaking her head.

He sat down and thought for a long while. He watched his precious little girl and her boyfriend exchange a worried glance. He could see the deep love between the two, one inseparable by distance or death. Then he sighed.

"I can tell that you both love each other very much." Your father said finally, making you and Brett jump. He stood up slowly and sat next to you, clasping his hands on your shoulder. "(Name), do you really want to spend the rest of your life with this bo- no, man? Do you truly love him with all your heart, mind and soul? He's not just a fling or a good time?" You nodded your head and looked over at Brett, who had a lost look on his face, "In that case, I give you two permission to live together; just no funny business, y'hear?"

"Th-thank you papa…" You sniffled grabbing your boyfriend's hand.

He smiled ad turned to Brett.

"Now you listen, and you listen good," He said, "You be good to my little girl. If I hear that you made her cry, you'll have to answer to me, understood?"

Brett grinned and nodded. "I wouldn't even DREAM of it, sir," he said, "If anyone's gonna cry, it's probably gonna be me."

You smiled and hugged the Aussie. "I do love him." You said in his shoulder, "I can't imagine life without him."

"Well, it was nice to finally meet ya." Brett smiled at your parents.

"It was lovely having you over," your mother said, "If you're ever in town, just drop by!" Your father grunted in agreement.

You chuckled. "I doubt that we'll be in town anytime soon." You said.

"Why not?" Your mother asked confused.

"'Cause Brett lives in Australia." Your father's face turned purple.

"AUSTRALIA?"

Brett grabbed your hand and you both ran to his car, laughing as your father hollered after you and your mother held him back, laughing along.

END