A/N: Okay, here's my first shot at a Selection fanfic! I apologize if it's not great; I wrote it kind of quickly.


Maxon awoke to the sound of vomiting coming from the bathroom. He was used to being awoken this way, since America was two months into her pregnancy and the morning sickness was raging full force. He winced as she retched violently from her place in front of the toilet. Pulling himself out of bed, he joined her in the bathroom and crouched behind her, stroking her back with one hand and holding her hair back with the other.

She finished throwing up and sat back on her heels, panting. "I think…I'm pretty sure I'm done," she said, her voice much weaker than she would have liked. Then her face went even greener. "Never mind," she groaned, leaning over the toilet and vomiting again.

Maxon kept rubbing her back, wishing he could help in some other way. He looked out the window, trying to figure out what time it was. The sun had just finished rising over the horizon, meaning it was time for Maxon and America to get up anyway.

"Okay, now I'm done," America said with finality. She slowly got up, walked back to the bed, and sat down gingerly. Maxon followed, sitting down gently beside her.

"Ugh, I should get dressed, but I just want to sleep," America complained, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "I don't know if I just didn't notice it at the time, but I don't think my mom ever had morning sickness this bad with May or Gerad."

"I'm sorry," Maxon murmured. "Do you want to stay here and sleep for a little while?" he offered.

"That would be nice," America admitted, her voice weary. "I have an appointment with the doctor to check on the baby in a little while anyway."

"Do you want me to come?" Maxon offered. "I can probably get away."

"No, it's fine," America replied. "I wouldn't want to tear you from your kingly duties."

"Alright then," Maxon kissed her forehead, getting up to leave.

Maxon frowned at the stack of papers on his desk. He was solidly in the middle of the afternoon slump. A knock sounded on the door.

"Come in," he called.

America stepped through the door and sat down in chair across his desk.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned. "Your face looks a little...weird."

"Oh, how romantic. My face looks weird," America responded sarcastically with a smile. "I'm fine."

"How did your appointment go?" Maxon inquired.

"That's actually what I'm here to talk to you about."

"What's wrong? Is everything okay with the baby?" Maxon asked immediately.

"Well, nothing's wrong, but I have a bit of a surprise for you," America said.

"Okay…" Maxon said slowly, not concerned anymore, but not sure where the conversation was going.

"The thing is," America began, "we're going to need two cribs." She looked up and saw his face wrinkled in confusion.

"Two cribs? Why? Why would the baby need more than one crib?" he asked, bewildered. Then his face broke into an expression of realization. "Oh! You mean, there's not going to be only one baby? We're having twins?"

America nodded, smiling. "We're having twins," she confirmed.

Maxon came around the desk and wrapped his wife in his arms, kissing her lips.

They leaned back, arms still around each other gazing into each other's eyes.

"Surprise," said America.


A/N: Hope you enjoyed it!