Edit (03.07.2015) - I want to apologise. I have learnt, since the completion of this fic, that gender-bending is harmful. Suggesting that one person has to be a cis male and the other has to be a cis female in order to reproduce erases trans couples, and that is disgusting. I am ashamed that I wrote this, and there is no excuse. I was grossly ignorant, and I apologise. At first, I thought about editing this fic, to change Kyle into a trans male, but in the end I decided against it. Editing this fic would be like trying to erase my mistake, to wipe it from history, and I don't want to do that. I am keeping this fic how it was originally written, so as to acknowledge my mistake. This way, I can look back on it, and know not to make the same mistake again. Once more, I am truly very sorry to anybody who I may have hurt with this. Please feel free to come and yell at me if you so wish.

One month. Four weeks. Thirty days. Seven hundred and thirty hours. Forty three thousand eight hundred and twenty nine minutes. Two million five hundred and ninety two thousand seconds. That was how long Eric was going to be gone. And it sucked. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad, if it wasn't for knowing that he was going to be missing out on something really important while he was away, for Kylie, his wife and life and whole wide world, had a bun in the oven. His bun. She was a little over nine months pregnant, and he was going to be gone for the due date, so he was going to miss the whole birth thing. And yeah, the whole birth thing was pretty gross and all, and honestly he would probably faint were he to stay and witness it, but it was the principle of the thing that mattered.

He wasn't going to be there to say encouraging words throughout Kylie's labour and probably get an earful from her about being patronising for it. He wasn't going to be there to get his hand crushed in his wife's vice-grip. He wasn't going to be there to hear his child's first, noisy lungful of air. He wasn't going to be there for his arms to be the first to cradle it. He wasn't going to be there, full stop, and that disheartening thought was enough to make him want to run back out of the airport and speed home and stay in hiding there with Kylie until the company forgot him and the business trip to Germany he was supposed to be on as an interpreter. But he couldn't, he knew, so in the airport, just a little way away from the customs gate where he could cross but Kylie couldn't, he stayed stood in his suit jacket and tie, and his shirt and slacks, and the squeaky, black shoes Kylie had polished for him that morning whilst he had been shaving his stubble off.

They had been talking, up until they reached the gate, with Kylie running through a mental check-list and asking him several times over whether he was absolutely sure he had everything, and Eric reassuring her that yes, he was sure, even though he actually wasn't. But then they had suddenly stopped, and stood face-to-face for a long while, and just quietly looked at each other, for what would be the last time in a long time. Kylie was wearing grey tracksuit bottoms, as she had taken to wearing pants that were easy to slip on and off, since she was constantly running to and from the bathroom thanks to the bladder-squashing baby within. She was also wearing one of Eric's big, baggy hoodies, because it was so big on her that it covered her big bump, and it didn't ride up her tummy like all her own tops did. Overall, her outfit was an odd throw-together that made her look quite grubby, but she never had been one to care much for appearances. Meanwhile, Eric harboured the miraculous ability to find her pretty no matter what. Together they were a great team, whose motto was: "Meh, whatever."

After a while longer of staring, Eric finally decided to break the silence. "So," he said. "Here we are."

"Yeah," Kylie replied quietly. Eric was secretly sort of glad that she was frowning. To know that she wasn't ecstatic about his leaving was a relief.

"A whole month," he said. The thought still both awed and saddened him, but mainly the latter.

"Don't get killed," Kylie warned, narrowing her eyes and glaring him down. "If you get killed, I will be so mad."

Eric smirked. "Hmm, but that's so tempting. I love making you mad."

"Try me," Kylie practically snarled. "I will not hesitate to shit on your grave if you do something stupid and get yourself killed for it. I mean it."

"Alright, alright," Eric chortled. "Geez, I promise I won't get killed. Now you promise me you'll take care of yourself and Eric Junior."

Kylie rolled her eyes. "No. I was totally thinking of throwing us in front of a car. Of course I'll take care, dumbass."

"And call me. Tell me what's going on at home. And write me soppy love poems about how much your heart weeps in my absence."

"Gross. In your dreams."

Eric laughed, "'Kay then, but still call me."

"I will. Twice a week, every week."

"Good." Eric nodded. "So then…" His smile fell. "I guess this is it."

"Yeah…" Kyle said sadly. "Yeah, I guess so…"

"…I'm gonna miss you," he promised. "Honest to God, I'm gonna miss the fuck out of you."

"Me too." Nodding in agreement, Kylie got up onto the balls of her feet and wrapped her arms around Eric's neck, pulling him in for a hug. He hugged her back, pulling her as close as the big bump between them would allow. "Make sure you call me too," she said. "Don't be lazy."

"Don't need to tell me twice," Eric replied. He nuzzled his face into her long, thick curls, inhaling her sweet scent, savouring it to memory. After pulling away, he stooped down on one knee, so as to lift the bottom of the hoodie up and reveal the bump. He wrapped his arms around it and pressed his cheek against it. "See you on the other side, Junior," he said, and then kissed the bump, just shy of Kylie's bellybutton, which had turned into an outie over the months. He pulled the hoodie back down and stood up again, and smiled softly down at her. She wasn't crying – not a single tear. It took a lot more than her husband leaving to make her cry. She was a tough one. Even without him, she would be fine. That was what he loved about her, and he showed it by brushing her curly fringe aside to press one last, lingering kiss to her forehead. When he pulled away, though he was still smiling at her, his heart was aching. "Ich liebe dich."

"I love you too," she replied, no hint of a lie or sarcasm or teasing or mockery in her voice – just the honest truth. "Stay safe."

"You too." Finally, with much reluctance, Eric let go of Kylie, stepping away from her and taking a hold of the handle of his roller suitcase. "See you in a month," he said, and then his lips quirked, as he was suddenly reminded of a song. "Auf Wiedersehen, sweetheart," he added light-heartedly.

Kylie nodded, plastering a smile onto her face. She raised one hand to wave at him, but the hand he focused on was the one at rest atop her bump – the bump that would soon be no more, and he wouldn't be there for the transition from bump to baby. It was one of the things that left him feeling sore about leaving at all. But he had to do what he had to do, and he had to bring the bacon home, where his wife and child to-be were, and if that meant sacrificing a few moments that could be spent with them, then so be it.

Flashing her one last wide, toothy, charismatic grin, Eric waved back before turning and walking away, reminding himself that every step away from her was another step towards the day when they would be together again.

Author's Notes:

A while ago I was watching videos of soldiers returning home from service and meeting their babies for the first time, and I wanted to use that cute concept for my OTP. I originally wrote it with Eric going away for military service, but one of my friends I told about the idea found it a little bothersome as they do not condone the US military. I didn't want anybody else who read this to be bothered about the military aspect and have it distract from the cuteness, so I changed it to have Eric going away on a business trip instead. I hope you find it agreeable.
To those who are wondering why I made Kyle female: well, the baby had to come from somewhere, didn't it? And I wasn't in the mood for mpreg. Maybe some of you would have preferred Eric to be Mom Erica, but I personally prefer Kyle as Mom Kylie. I bet she'd be a super mom, who can be kind and patient, but still tough when need be. She would be the type of mom who would have the baby strapped to her back while she went around hoovering and mopping and stuff, like one of those hardcore moms in outdoorsy labour who have their babies in bundles on their backs while they're working out in the fields. She wouldn't need no man! She would get on just fine, even without Eric there to help.
As to Eric, I always feel like he would be really happy to be a dad. He would spoil the hell out of the child, but he would do it with the best intentions, wanting to give his child the good childhood he didn't have, and be the dad he never had. I mean, he would see all kids as snotty brats, of course, but his own child would be the only exception. His mind-set is "I'm super cool, so anything made from me is super cool too."
Stay tuned if you liked this, because one more chapter of it is on the way. In the meantime, you should give the sweet wartime song 'Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart' by Vera Lynn a listen to if you haven't already.
Thanks for reading this, and I hope you had as much fun doing so as I did writing it. Oh, and (belated) happy new year, guys! It's my first fic of 2015!

Disclaimer: South Park does not belong to me, but to its creators, Trey Parker and Matt Stone.