LAST EPISODE SEEN: Gaza
TIMELINE: This really doesn't fit in, it's more of an AU fic based on my own twisted musings
ARCHIVE: Go ahead. Make my day. Seriously though, it's all good, just tell me first.
DISCLAIMER: Kim and Jay are mine (you'll meet them later), as are Alan and Chris—no one else belongs to me. I'll give them back unharmed when I'm done.
SUMMARY: Donna finds herself in a difficult situation and makes a choice that no woman should ever be forced to make.
SPOILERS: None. Canon sucks right now, so I'm deviating.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Feedback is your friend. Mine too. ;)

Prologue: 99% Accurate


She carefully checked her calendar three times before freaking out. First it was one day late, but I wasn't concerned, because she was pretty stressed lately, and stress can do that to a person. However, when one day turns into five, and then five turns into ten, then there's something going on. Self-denial of such an obvious fact can only get a person so far before she goes absolutely insane.

Donnatella Moss was sitting in front of her desk on Monday morning, staring into the mirror of her compact and that little nagging voice in the back of her mind screamed, "Something's up. You know what it is, but you can't say the word. You're pregnant." Later, in front of the mirror in her bedroom, she would answer back, over and over again, "Not pregnant. Not pregnant." She could repeat that phrase until she was blue in the face if she so chose, but lying out loud to oneself when the mind knows the truth is rather an exercise in futility.

It was Monday evening (technically Tuesday morning, but who's counting?) when she stopped at the 24-hour-drugstore on the way home from work purchased that little box of answers. It said "Easy Home Pregnancy Test: 99% Accurate." Donna couldn't stomach looking at the cashier, so she went to one of those self-checkout lines. When people buy embarrassing products like that, they suddenly feel like they have the name of the product written on their foreheads in big red letters. It's a really paranoid, scary feeling.

After paying for her test, she took the metro back to her apartment, afraid to meet anyone's glances during the whole ride back to the Rhode Island Avenue stop. Opening the box, Donna said a quick prayer and made the Sign of the Cross. Feeling hypocritical about her lapsed Catholicism, she also promised to attend Sunday service if God would grant her a negative result.

After peeing on the stick like the back of the box said to do, she waited...

And waited for what felt like an eternity.

It's only 10 minutes before a reading is supposed to come out, but it felt like hours—days, even. Donna half expected to look at the clock and realize that she was late for work—and only five minutes had gone by. Knowing the old adage, "A watched pot never boils," she decided to go watch some television. Anyway, after those ten torturous minutes were up, there it was, clear as day—2 pink lines.

Positive. She had flunked the one test that truly mattered.