A/N: Just a bit of Artia fun.

A Lesson In Physics

"Are you sure?"

"Is there an artifact that can cause something like this?"

"…No."

"Then yes, I'm sure."

Artie scrubbed his forehead with his fingernails. "This puts us in a very precarious position," he mumbled in the fashion he used when he was trying to solve an artifact mystery.

"You're tellin' me, Old Man!" Claudia barked, her dark eyes bulging at him. "There's not an artifact that can, you know, fix this is there?"

"Fix this?" Artie looked aghast. "What do you mean by 'fix this'? You don't mean-"

"I mean like go back in time and-"

"We don't have time traveling devices," Artie explained sternly. "Not ones that work at will anyway."

"What about H.G. Wells's-"

"Nope!" He held up his hand. "And I won't even go into the problems that have arisen when that godforsaken machine has been activated in the past. Did you know it played a hand in the Roswell disaster?" His tight charcoal gray curls bounced on his head as he shook it fervently. "No way, no how!"

"Well that only leaves us with-"

"No," he interrupted again. "We have several options."

Claudia placed her hands on her hips. "How did this even happen, anyway? I thought you used a-"

"Yeah, well," Artie shrugged with a sheepishly grin. "Let's just say they'd been out of circulation for a while."

"Shizznibblets!" Claudia wailed, with her hands waving aimlessly in the air. "Are you serious? You-"

"Well what about you!" he shot back, just as feisty. "You said that you-"

"Yeah, well," she mimicked him, "there is that point one percent chance…"

Artie buried his head in his hands. "Oy." he groaned. "I can't believe this. I can't even believe this!"

"You're seriously telling me you're head of this entire super secret Warehouse and you can't believe this?" she sniped.

"I need to sit down." He fumbled around the office until he found his chair and slid into it with an audible thump. He was raking his hands through his hair methodically. "I'm not ready to be a father." His eyes lifted to Claudia's pleadingly.

Claudia began to tap the toe of her black boot on the floor, visually daring him to even try such a line again. "Dude," she said in her most patronizing voice, "you've got over four decades of geezer on me and you're not ready to be a father? How about trying this on for size: maybe I'm not ready to be a mother! I'm twenty-two-frickin'-years-old, for cryin' out loud!"

"Isn't that what the kids are doing now anyway?" Artie asked with a cheap smile. "You know fads, they go in circles: isn't having kids young the way to go nowadays?"

Claudia smacked her forehead with the heel of her hand. "Yeah, the stupid ones who don't know how to use a condom or birth control." She narrowed her eyes. "Or who use rubbers from the fifties!"

"I was a toddler in the fifties!"

"So what are you trying to tell me, Artie? What are you saying? Just lay the cards out on the table right now," she said with a sweeping gesture.

"I…I guess I'm saying I don't want you to 'fix' anything," he spoke finally. "That's just not the era I grew up in. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you - we - did that."

Claudia wormed closer to him. "Can I ask you something?" she asked, her voice a shade softer than before.

"Sure, I guess. I really don't think we can get more personal than we already have," he shrugged.

"Have you…ever had kids before?"

Artie's bottom jaw slackened and slipped, causing his mouth to drop into a U-shape. A faraway look simmered in his irises and while he seemed to be looking at Claudia, he also seemed to be looking through her right at the same time. Then he shut his lids over his eyes and tilted his head back to inhale, long and slow.

"Artie?"

"Strike that."

"'Scuse me?"

"I guess we can get closer than before," Artie replied in a breath. He held up his hand, the back of it facing Claudia, and pulled his four fingers down against his palm to make a snapping noise twice, beckoning her to come to him.

Obliging, Claudia slid on his right leg like a child positioned on Santa's lap, though her arms were still folded and her eyes trained with an intense and curious stare. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice caring, even though her posture spoke of intimidation.

Artie wrapped his arm around her waist. "No," he sighed. "I've never had children before."

"I smell a but." Before he could say anything, she pinched his nose, making him think better of any quips. "You know what I mean," she growled, before releasing his nostrils.

"I've told you about Carol," he nodded sadly. "But what I didn't tell is that once upon a time, she thought she was pregnant."

"With your baby?"

"Right."

Claudia's arms slid out from one another. She resisted the urge to hug him and steal away the broken look on his face. "Did she," she gulped, "'fix' it?"

Artie shook his head. "No. It turned out to only be a scare," he explained softly.

"But you didn't want it to be?"

"It's not that I didn't want to be a father to her child, we - we were just so young and," he shrugged. "It wouldn't have been right, you know?" A silence lapsed between them as that faraway look returned to his eyes. "It was after that," he said in a whisper, "that she chose James."

Claudia encircled her arms around his neck and laid her head onto his. A half smile graced her lips as she relished the feeling of the soft cushion of Artie's Old Man curls under her cheek, but it was quickly stifled by the mental image of what Artie must have went through when he found out that Carol wasn't pregnant, and worse, what it must have been like when she picked MacPherson. "I'm sorry."

Artie held her around the waist tenderly, before surprising her by leaning forward and pressing his ear to her skinny belly.

"What are you doing?" she asked, not sure whether to be amused or annoyed.

Artie looked up as far as he could without moving his head, which made him appear as if he were trying to roll his eyes. "Listening for smartass comments from the womb," he ribbed.

Claudia scowled. "You know what, just for that I'm going to make sure I find an artifact that gives you the pregnancy symptoms!"

"Ha!"

Claudia poked him firmly in the chest with her index finger. "What are we going to tell Myka and Pete?" she suddenly asked. "And they think they've got the big news with their little secret not-so-secret engagement!" She rolled her eyes dramatically.

"They're engaged?"

The redhead tossed out her hands as she said, "Duh!" with the biggest eyes and most drawling, insulting voice she could muster. "What do you think all the hugging and the kissing and the giggling has been about? And that spur-of-the-moment trip that they're on right now to visit Myka's parents? And most telling of all: the tan line on her ring finger!" she shook her head, as if it were the most obvious thing since grass being green.

"Well this is awkward," Artie agreed. "I mean: we're having a baby before Myka and Pete."

"You make it sound as if the awkward thing is that we're having one before them. The awkward thing is that we're having a baby at all! You, at almost sixty, me at barely over the legal drinking age!" She suddenly hopped off his lap and wagged her finger. "Which reminds me: for the next eighteen years and nine months, I expect you to not die, stroke, heart attack, break you back-"

Artie was on his feet, halting the rant with a kiss before the young redhead even knew what hit her. He massaged the curve of her back as he broke away from the kiss. "Trust me: fearing what you'd do to me if I did any of those things that would risk taking away even a moment with our child is far more of a deterrent not to do them than the fear of actually suffering through them is."

"Hmm!" Claudia smirked. "Who says you can't teach an Old Geezer knew tricks?"

Artie reached around and smacked Claudia on her tight rump, causing her to jump and squeal simultaneously. "You!" he growled, shaking his head. "I've got a couple tricks for you, Missy, so up to the office with you!"

"Oh!" she grinned mischievously. "I'm up for learning all I can!"

"Well we haven't got much time, you know," he looked at his watch for emphasis. "A little less than nine months before graduation into parenthood," he snapped his fingers, "so let's get moving!"

Claudia began to rub her hands together to create warm friction. "Physics, here I come!"