A/N: I love Pete and Myka together. I'd love to hear from anyone who feels the same.

Myka stuck her head around the corner of another aisle, eyes hopeful, but her face soon registered disappointment.

"Empty," she announced, wandering down the aisle with its bare shelves. "Just like all the others."

She turned to face Pete, who had been wandering around the Warehouse with her for the last half an hour.

"I guess we should face it," she said to him with a wry smile. "The Warehouse is nearly gone."

Pete seemed completely unbothered by her statement, watching her instead with a mischievous look on his face. Myka raised her eyebrow.

"What are you thinking, Lattimer?" she asked hesitantly, then let out a gasp as he wrapped an arm around her and deftly pinned her against one of the shelving posts. He moved in to kiss her, but Myka caught his chin with her hand.

"Pete, I said not at work!" she hissed. "Control yourself!"

"If you wanted me to control myself, you shouldn't be wearing those jeans," he murmured, giving her a heavy-lidded look. Myka could feel herself melting under his gaze.

"Let me go, Pete," she whispered, putting a hand on his wrist.

"You have to pay the toll," Pete whispered back seductively. Myka gave in and leaned back against the post, letting Pete capture her lips with his own. Their kisses started soft and slow, but the passion between them was still burning brightly and their actions quickly intensified. Pete hitched Myka's leg up against his hip and began to nuzzle at her neck. Myka let out a whimper, but her eyes snapped open at the sound of loud throat-clearing. Steve was standing at the end of the aisle with his arms folded and a judgemental look on his face. Myka quickly pushed Pete away and tugged the hem of her shirt down. Pete didn't even look guilty.

"Seriously guys?" Steve asked. "It's not bad enough that I have to listen to you all night, now I have to see it during the day too?"

"Jealously does not sit well on you, Jinksy," Pete quipped.

"Keep it in your pants, Pete," Steve shot back.

"Carry on, Poopypants," Pete instructed, pointing down the next aisle. Steve rolled his eyes and sauntered away. Pete turned back to Myka with a huge grin on his face. Myka was wearing a wide-eyed, horrified expression.

"What does he mean, he has to listen to us?" she shrilled. Pete's grin did not waver.

"How do I put this?" he started. "You're, um, rather, how do we say, vocal, in the bedroom, Mykes."

Myka let out a squeak of horror and punched Pete hard in the arm, which wiped the grin off his face for a microsecond.

"Ow!" he cried, but he was already laughing.

"Why didn't you say something?" Myka demanded.

"Because it's a massive turn on!" Pete chuckled. "Like I'm going to stop you."

"Oh my God!" Myka cried, putting her hands to her head. "Oh my God!"

"Yep, that's pretty much what it sounds like," Pete quipped, jumping back as Myka took another swing at him. Myka's face was white.

"I think I'm going to be ill," she whimpered.

"Jeez, I don't normally have that effect on women," Pete commented. Myka suddenly dry-heaved, and her hand flew to her mouth. Pete's eyes widened.

"Oh my God, you're not kidding," he said, and Myka shook her head, her eyes filled with panic. Pete held up a calming hand and took off down the aisle, disappearing for a moment before returning with a cleaning bucket that he'd seen during their earlier comb of the Warehouse. He barely had time to place it on the ground before Myka dropped to her knees and heaved. Pete knelt beside her and held back her hair, making soothing noises. Myka finally looked up at him with pitiful eyes. She hastily wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand.

"You ok?" Pete asked gently. Myka gave him a wobbly smile and let him help her to her feet, but when she tried to take a step forward, her knees gave out from under her. Pete dove to catch her before she hit the ground.

"You are not ok," he stated. Myka leaned back against him.

"I'm just a little dizzy," she murmured. "I'll be fine."

Pete ignored her and scooped her up into his arms.

"Pete, put me down!" Myka demanded. Pete gripped her tighter.

"No way," he said. "We're calling the doctor."

Myka was still trying to wrestle out of Pete's hold when he carried her into the office. Artie and Claudia both looked up at their entrance, and Claudia leapt to her feet.

"Myka, are you ok?"

"I'm fine," Myka whined, struggling against Pete until he placed her into the overstuffed armchair in the corner.

"She's not fine," Pete argued, reaching down to tuck one of Myka's curls behind her ear. "She was sick down on the floor, and then she nearly passed out."

"You threw up on the floor?" Artie asked, suddenly also on his feet.

"Relax Grandpa, it was in a bucket," Pete snapped. Myka leaned forward and rested her head on her knees. She moaned softly.

"I'll get a damp washcloth," Artie said, moving towards his quarters.

"And Vanessa's number," Pete said, following after Artie.

"I don't need a doctor!" Myka called after them, but her voice was feeble. Claudia knelt down next to the chair Myka sat on and placed her hand softly on Myka's arm.

"What happened down there?" she asked. "Did you get whammied or something?"

"There's nothing left down there to whammy us," Myka told her, shaking her head gently. "The Warehouse is empty. I don't know Claud, I just suddenly felt sick. I mean, I've been feeling queasy for a couple of days, but I just thought with all the changes here..."

Claudia chewed on her lip.

"Myka, do you think..." she trailed off. Myka looked confused.

"Do I think what, Claud?" she asked. Claudia's eyes flicked between Myka's face and the doorway Pete had just disappeared through. Myka blinked at her for a moment, and then her face settled into shocked understanding of Claudia's unvoiced thought.

"Pete?" Myka called. Pete came dashing back through the doorway, panic on his face.

"What? We ok?"

"Pete, how long have we," Myka paused as she tried to find a term that wouldn't make Claudia cringe, "how long have we been, you know, together?"

Pete's mouth twitched up into a smirk.

"Seven weeks, two days," he said confidently, his happiness at the situation sparkling in his eyes. "Why?"

Myka leaned back in the chair and gripped at Claudia's offered hand. Artie returned to the office, promised washcloth in one hand, a phone in the other.

"Call Vanessa," Myka told him, nodding resignedly at the phone. "I need a doctor."

Vanessa's eyes flicked between Myka and Pete. Pete was staring at her with his mouth open in dumbfounded shock, while Myka looked like she was trying not to be sick all over again.

"I can give you two a moment if you like," she offered from her perch on an exam room stool. Pete, seated on the exam table next to Myka, gave Vanessa a quizzical look.

"Pregnant?" he squeaked out. "Like with a baby?"

"That's usually how it works, Pete," Myka mumbled from beside him, rubbing at her face.

"I'll come back in a bit," Vanessa said gently, sliding off her stool and heading for the door. Myka watched her go and then turned back to face Pete, who was staring at her like she'd suddenly grown horns.

"Pete, I," she started, but it was all she got out before Pete grabbed her face and kissed her deeply. Myka gasped for breath as he pulled away.

"Pregnant!" Pete cried happily, jumping down from the table. "Myka, we're having a baby!"

Myka's eyes were wide with hope.

"You're ok with this?" she asked tentatively. Pete pulled her down from the table so that he could wrap her in his arms.

"It's all so fast," Myka mumbled against his chest. Pete reached down to cup her face in his hands.

"Mykes, we've been together for five years," he told her, and Myka's lips curled into a smile as she accepted another kiss from him. Pete lowered his hand to flex it across the span of Myka's still flat stomach.

"A baby," he said contentedly. Myka covered his hand with her own.

"A little Lattimer," she said with a happy smile. Pete gave a chuckle and kissed her again.

"I love you," he told her.

"I love you," Myka murmured back, wrapping her arms around him. They stood like that for a while, chins resting on shoulders, rocking slowly back and forth. Pete pressed a kiss against Myka's temple before pulling away. He reached for her hand.

"Come with me," he said, and Myka gave him a questioning look.

"Pete?" she asked. Pete tugged on her hand.

"Come on."

Myka followed him out of the exam room and back out onto the Warehouse floor. Pete led her down aisles and past empty shelves until they found their way to the Mason's Compass, still working its way slowly to transferring the Warehouse to its new host country. Myka looked confused.

"What are we doing here?" she asked. Pete grinned.

"This is where you told me that you loved me for the first time," he said. "This is our place."

"So..." Myka pursed her lips questioningly.

"So, this is where I wanted to ask this," Pete told her, fumbling around in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a ring. Myka's mouth dropped open.

"Pete," she whispered, staring at him in shock. Pete took a step towards her and met her gaze.

"Myka Ophelia Bering, I love you," he said softly. "Please, will you marry me?"

Myka was dumbfounded into silence. When she didn't speak for a minute, Pete suddenly looked concerned.

"Mykes?"

"Why have you been carrying around a ring?" Myka asked him breathlessly. Pete looked sheepish.

"My mom sent it to me after I told her about us," he explained. "It was the ring my dad proposed to her with. She said she could tell I was going to need it soon."

"What is Jane, some kind of psychic now?" Myka asked disbelievingly. Pete laughed, and pulled her into a hug. He was surprised to feel her shaking.

"Marry me," he murmured in her ear. He felt her inhale sharply.

"Ok," she softly whispered back. Pete drew away from their embrace to slide the diamond ring onto Myka's left hand. When he looked up, she was gazing at him like she'd just laid eyes on him for the first time.

"I love you," she murmured. Pete rested his forehead against hers.

"I love you too," he murmured back. "For now, and for always."