A/N: As always, these are not my characters and not my world - I just like to play in it.
This story takes place after That Kiss and Two Sides to Every Story. If you're under 18, don't read those! The short version is that Jo's just found out that she's pregnant. This story, though, is Fargo's - while I expect there to be a fair amount of Jo/Zane, I'm pretty sure that this will be mostly Fargo, and that it will stay rated T. (Maybe. Most likely. We'll see.)
If you like the story, but don't like writing reviews, leaving a comment on the Eureka Writers blog (eureka unscripted at typepad) or tweeting to them that Jo needs a motorcycle would make me very happy. (I'd write a lengthy analysis of the symbolism, but I'll spare you unless someone asks for it. But I want Jo to have a motorcycle!)
Chapter One: Sneaking Suspicions
Fargo watched Zane rush away, carrying Jo, and shook his head.
He had no idea what was going on between those two. He wondered if anyone did.
Basic logic suggested that Jo had inhaled too much nitrogen. Dragging her out of the lab made sense. Tearing off to the infirmary with her? Well, he would have waited in the hallway for a minute or two first to see if she regained consciousness. Okay, so maybe that was partly because he doubted he could carry her all the way to the infirmary, but still, he knew Jo.
Being taken to the infirmary with a bullet in her chest? Fine.
Being carried there because she'd fainted? Yeah, she was going to be pissed.
He glanced at his watch. He'd give them a few minutes to get the fireworks over with, and then follow them up, just to make sure she was okay. Meanwhile, he'd deal with this schmuck. He watched the seconds tick away on his watch while the scientist ranted at him, and at precisely 60 – after one solid minute of complaint – he interrupted with his very best impression of Nathan Stark.
"I agree completely." The scientist looked startled. "Dr. Donovan is an annoying ass, and a complete pain in the butt," Fargo continued, voice firm but tinged with Stark's innate sarcasm. He'd been practicing this – not these lines, but the voice, the delivery, the tone.
"He's also one of the most innovative minds we have at GD right now, with three major achievements in the past year alone. The SkyCruiser, his work on nullweps, plus the security algorithm he developed. The last might replace AES as the Federal Information Processing Standard during the next review cycle, which could make it GD's most important practical achievement in the past few years. Meanwhile, you…" he paused as he scrolled through data on his tablet, "…have spent the past 18 months failing to demonstrate proof of concept on your research."
He looked up. The scientist had gone pale. Fargo smiled gently. "You may have a two week extension on your evaluation deadline because of the disruption caused by this little incident. I'd suggest thanking Dr. Donovan for the extra time the next time you see him." He paused, waiting for it – and yes, the scientist was nodding gratefully, then scurrying away.
God, sometimes Fargo just loved his job.
And then sometimes he didn't. Looking down at his schedule, he frowned. That forensic accountant was arriving any minute, and the jungle down in Section 12 still had to be dealt with, plus he had a meeting over web link with a team at the Arctic research station at noon and six evaluations to get done before the end of the day.
"Larry," he sighed, without bothering to look up.
"Yes, Chief?" As expected, the answer was immediate.
"Head up to the helipad and wait for the helicopter from D.C. to arrive. Page me the minute the pilot radios in so I have time to get up there too. If I'm late for any reason, escort our guest to my office and do the usual – offer coffee, tea, whatever."
"You got it, Chief." Larry headed off, almost whistling, and Fargo watched him go. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but Fargo didn't know how he'd get this job done without Larry. The man was annoying as hell, but surprisingly competent at the thousands of little details that had to be taken care of to keep GD running. And right now, his assistance would give Fargo time to check on Jo.
At the infirmary door, Fargo paused. Zane was kissing Jo. Huh. And that was very definitely Zane kissing Jo, not vice versa – she was seated on a bed, while he was standing in front of her, his hands cupping her face. And then he pulled back and said something that Fargo was too far away to hear, but he could see the expression on Jo's face.
Wow. She looked radiant. He'd never seen Jo look like that before and for a moment, just a fraction of a moment, he felt a burst of envy. Not so much of Jo – he was so over that, she was one of his best friends now and that relationship was all he needed or wanted from her – but someday he'd like to see that expression on a woman's face directed at him.
He glanced at Alison. She was beaming, too, not radiant like Jo, but clearly something different than a little nitrogen asphyxiation was going on. As he crossed the room toward the three of them, Alison was pulling up a data screen, and beginning to talk.
"I'm really impressed, Jo," she was saying. "I ran a nutrient check on your blood, too, just to see what you might need to work on, and you've obviously been eating a very appropriate diet. Your iron levels, your folic acid, your B and D vitamins, even your calcium – everything is exactly where it should be."
"S.A.R.A.H.!" Jo's exclamation might almost have been a curse.
"S.A.R.A.H.?" It was a chorus of questioning responses from Zane, Fargo, and Alison.
"She's been making me…" Jo was shaking her head in disbelief. "She must have known. She must have – argh, it's my own damn fault for not listening to her."
"Known?" asked Fargo, trying to ask the question delicately. He had a sneaking suspicion based on those B vitamins, but he'd like to be told whatever it was that S.A.R.A.H. knew.
"I…" Jo started and then stopped. "I – "
She glanced at Alison, almost desperately, and then at Zane, and the appeal was plain to see. He ran his hand up her back, and rested it on the back of her neck, but didn't say anything. The gesture was supportive, fond, a little possessive even, but he was clearly not going to answer the question for her.
She narrowed her eyes at him, just a little, and took a breath, before saying, "We are having a baby." The emphasis on the 'we' was unmistakable. Zane's grin in response – well, guys don't do radiant, but if Fargo had had to find an adjective to describe it, he would have been hard-pressed to find one that was better.
"Congratulations!" Fargo said brightly. He had questions – oh, so many questions – but this was clearly not the time or the place. He'd see if he could interrogate Jo later. But judging from the way she was smiling at Zane, half bemused, half helpless, she was more okay with this than he would have expected.
"So, shall we do a scan?" Alison asked.
Jo nodded. "Is it still too early to tell whether it's a girl or a boy?" Zane asked.
Alison smiled. "I did a qualitative test, which only tests whether there's hCG – that's human chorionic gonadotropin – in the blood. The level confirms the pregnancy but until I do an exam, I don't know how far along you are."
"About two and a half months," Zane reported. Fargo's eyebrows shot up, an involuntary reaction. Wow, he hadn't guessed that. He'd thought that there was something going on between them recently, but not as long ago as…
Before he could finish the thought, Jo hit Zane.
Fargo bit his lip to hold back the laugh.
Zane rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I could be wrong, but –"
Jo hit him again. "Shut up now," she ordered. The pink on her cheeks was embarrassment.
"Shutting up," Zane said, but he was still smiling.
Alison pulled out the GD equipment to start the scan. The monitor was something like a large-screen television, but the scanner itself was unique – more like a small, handheld iron with a blue light on it than like the more traditional ultrasound wand. And it worked through clothes, so Fargo had no hesitation about sticking around to see the results.
"Based on, ahem, that math," Alison offered as she started moving the scanner over Jo, "It's probably still a little early to try to tell the sex of the…"
Fargo frowned, looking at the screen. He had no expertise in ultrasounds. But movement was movement. And that didn't look right. Alison had fallen silent. He glanced at her. She was smiling.
"What is it?" asked Jo.
"Can you tell?" asked Zane. "Whether it's a girl or a boy?"
Jo hit him again, this time lightly. "What's your problem? Why does it matter?"
"I want a girl," he said. She looked surprised. He shrugged. "A boy'd be okay, I'd deal. But I'd rather have a little girl. One like you – cute and tough and smart."
"A kid like you would definitely be smarter," Jo said skeptically.
"Raising a kid like me?" Zane winced. "Yeah, the thought makes me feel sorry for my parents, and that's not an emotion I ever expected to feel."
Jo smiled at him, biting her lip. Fargo smiled, too, a little wryly. He already knew what the ultrasound was showing.
"Too early to tell whether it's a girl," Alison murmured, "but your odds are better than most." She turned the screen so that Jo and Zane could both see it clearly, and waited.
Zane got it first. Fargo could see the realization hit him as he swallowed hard. Jo was frowning, looking puzzled.
Fargo's phone went off and automatically he glanced. Larry. Yeah, nope, he wasn't going to miss the next minute for anything, much less for an accountant from the DoD. He shut off the ringer and waited.
Jo glanced at Alison, then Zane. He'd closed his eyes. His lips were moving silently.
"What?" Jo asked. "What is it?"
"Please two girls," Zane spoke out loud. "Two girls, two girls, two girls." The chant was something almost like a prayer.
"Twins," Alison answered Jo's question. "You've got two heartbeats."
Jo's mouth dropped open, and she just stared at the monitor.
A/N2: Yep, your science fact for the day is hCG. Human chorionic gonadotropin is the hormone that pregnancy tests measure. Alison could have done a quantitative test that would have told her how far along Jo was, but she didn't. (I don't know why, actually, that's just how it flowed.) Oh, and AES is actually the current FIPS security protocol, but I can't imagine how that information will ever be useful in anyone's life!