Something was wrong with her, she just knew it. For days now, Sgt. Calhoun had been strangely nauseous but today it was much worse. She pushed her sweaty hair out her eyes after she finished throwing up. "Maybe I shouldn't have had so much soda at Tapper's yesterday," she sighed to herself. Ralph had taken her men out for drinks yesterday to make up for getting them killed on his quest for a medal and the woman had tagged along.

Felix stood in the doorway of the bathroom, cup of water in hand. "Are you alright, Honey Lamb?" he asked as he handed her the beverage, concern on his face. Tammy gargled a mouthful of water to rinse out the last of the bile, spat into the toilet bowl, and flushed it when she stood up. "I'm fine, Sweetums," she said gently, batting his hat bill down. "I just had too much to drink yesterday."

They started getting ready for the day.

'I don't believe that for a minute,' the little man thought to himself as he buttoned up his work shirt, 'but she can be mighty stubborn. I'd better keep an eye on her.'

The next month was miserable. While it wasn't everyday, Tamora's nauseous streak continued and she threw up several more times. She ached more after work than she usually did. It didn't help her high anxiety levels that her time of the month was two weeks late either. Felix tried to be helpful but everything he did seemed to make her angry.

She knew she was being unreasonable but she just couldn't help it. Her husband was kind, generous, and loving, but sometimes he could be just so… so… irritating.

One day it happened. She blew up at him. They were sitting on the couch in their living room, cuddling, when the handyman said those hurtful, fantastic words. "Tammy Jean," he sighed, "you are one dynamite ga- Ack!" Calhoun had roughly shoved him away and got up.

She was going to kill him, she decided, and the only thing that would save him was chocolate ice cream. Preferably lots of it. "I gotta go, Fix-It," she growled. "Don't wait up for me." She shouldered her cruiser and headed for the door. "I- I don't understand," he said breathlessly, utterly devastated. "I thought it was okay to call you a dyna- to call you that?" She opened the door and stepped out. "Not today!" she snarled, slamming the door behind her.

The distraught woman stood on the front step, reeling and on the verge of tears. "What's wrong with me?" she hissed sadly. The craving for ice cream intensified so she hopped on her hoverboard and took off for Sugar Rush. "I'll bring him back some sherbet," she muttered mournfully.

Unbeknownst to her, Felix watched her leave. When she was gone he walked determinedly to the tram platform. "This has gone on long enough," he said to himself. "Time to make an appointment."

It was late when Tamora came back, a small carton of orange sherbet in her hands. She put it in the freezer and went upstairs as quietly as she could. The bedroom door was partially open so she pushed it farther in. It was dark and silent and she wanted to keep it that way, but before the soldier had taken her third step a light snapped on. It was Felix, sitting on the bed and looking quite cross. The bags under his eyes told her that he had stayed up, waiting for her return. Calhoun stood there, rubbing her arms like a teenager caught after curfew. "Felix, I-"

"I was worried about you," he interrupted. "You blow up in my face, disappear, and try 'n come back like a thief in the night? What in tarnation is goin' on?"

The woman's temper flared briefly but she managed to control it. "I don't know and I'm sorry. I just got so mad I couldn't thing straight." She sat next to him. "Can you forgive me, Shortstack?" she softly pleaded. The repairman smiled. "I think I can, Milady." She leaned in for a kiss but he put up a finger to her lips. "IF," he smirked, "you go talk to Dr. Mario on Saturday."

Saturday night found Calhoun sitting in Dr. Mario's office filling out new patient paperwork. She had an inkling of an idea of what was wrong with her and didn't want her husband to know quiet yet so she was here alone.

The Italian medic asked her some questions and she replied. Her answers brought him to the same conclusion. He drew some blood, bandaged her up, and handed her some items. "This," he said as he gave her a plastic stick, "is for immediate results. And this," as he passed her a cup with a lid, "will help rule out a false positive or negative. I'll have Scarlet bring you a letter with the results." He left and Calhoun stepped into the bathroom. She did what she needed to do and waited for the result.

It came and she stared at it numbly. The stick read positive.

[Dear Mrs. Tamora Calhoun Fix-It,

I am writing to tell you that all tests came back positive for pregnancy. Congratulations! Please come in six weeks from today for your next appointment.

–Dr. Mario]

Calhoun sat on her bunk in the barracks, reading and rereading the letter and trying to sort out her emotions. True to his word, Dr. Mario had sent Scarlet Fever over with a letter two days after her visit. She smiled wryly at that memory. The little red virus had come over immediately after the arcade had closed. The poor critter had split until there were eighty-four of her so she could be heard squawking over the dubstep music and the sirens.

The soldier looked at the calendar on the wall. Her appointment was only a week after Ralph and Vanellope's wedding. She had to tell Felix, but how?

That Friday she got her answer.

She had to admit: the girls playing her game were talented. They were able to play her game and carry on a coherent conversation at the same time.

"Watch your back, Lacy!"

"Sorry! Got 'im."

"Anyway, Mom wants us to go to that new ceramics shop down the street and paint Dad a coffee mug or two. What should I put on it?"

Lacy shrugged and shot a cy-bug before it could lay any more eggs. "I dunno, Elle. It'd be a little cheesy to put '#1 Dad' on it, but- Watch out!" A cy-bug came out of nowhere and devoured them, ending their game.

Calhoun didn't hear the quarter alert as the gypped girls vowed revenge and started another round. She was already thinking about where she was going to get paint and a spare mug.

Tammy found the materials she needed (after borrowing some paint from a racing game and arguing with her cupboard for over an hour), but now time was running out. She wanted to give it to her husband at just the right time but nothing seemed appropriate. Worse, she was afraid that she would chicken out, he would react badly, or any other terrible situation she could imagine might happen.

Finally, she couldn't stand the pessimism anymore. "Get a hold of yerself, soldier!" she growled to herself. "Everything will be fine. He's stuck with you for this long and he loves kids. This should be a cake walk." Despite her pep talk, though, she still put off telling him.

Felix knew there was something on her mind. He had learned long ago not to pry, but that wasn't going to stop him from at least reminding her that he loved her.

The night before their friends' wedding the Fix-Its were just finishing up dinner. Calhoun cleared the table while Felix started serving up some ice cream for dessert. "Tammy, dearest?" he asked softly. She hummed to let him know he had her attention. "I know something's been bothering you lately and I know you don't want to talk about it but I want to let you know I'm here when you do." The woman batted his hat bill down as she took her seat next to him at the table. "I know, Fix-It," she murmured. "I know."

When the arcade finally closed the next day Calhoun was in the process of gathering up everything she would need when she saw something brightly colored out of her eye. It was the mug she had made for Felix, wrapped up in some nice looking gift paper. Before she could talk herself out of it she put with the rest of her things.

Later that night, after seeing the newly-weds off, Tamora pulled her husband off to a quieter corner of the castle where she had hidden the mug. She gave it to him and she was surprised at his reaction: he fainted. "I shoulda seen that comin'," she chuckled to herself as she put him over her shoulder to carry him to their room in the guest wing. Everyone in Niceland had made arrangements with Sour Bill to stay in Sugar Rush for the weekend to give Ralph and Vanellope some much needed alone time.

And there we have it! :)

BTW, this is rated T for my own paranoia. There's nothing graphic in here, I would just rather people tell me to bring the rating down than up