Dislaimer: None of the characters contained herein belong to me. But I do own 4 out of the 6 seasons on DVD. And that's about all I own. Please don't sue me.

A/N: Thanks, as always, to my marvelous Beta, Nightblight who is so generous with her time and talent. I am so grateful for her help and guidance.

This silly little fic is a birthday present for velocityofsound and is cross posted at geekfiction.

We had a date this morning. Well, lately we've had a date almost every morning. He takes me to breakfast and we talk about almost everything.

He's so smart. Really. I think people forget how smart he is; maybe it's because he works with so many smart people…Dr. Grissom, Sara and Greg…they're all geniuses. Literally. I checked their files.

OK and Hodges.

Hodges is a genius if you're talking strictly IQ numbers. But the weird obnoxious borderline creepy factor should cause loss of points, I think. And he's always going on about how hard he works, but I think he's feckless. Though he has pulled some amazing results out of the hat a few times, I guess.

The others are really smart too. But I think when you have that many geniuses around really, really smart starts to look average. Which is why I think everybody forgets how smart he is. And I can't imagine how not smart someone like me looks, with just average intelligence.

Like I said, we talk about everything. I have just been so surprised he wanted to talk to me. It was funny at first, I thought he was just looking for company for breakfast…I mean, I didn't really think he was interested in me. But the sixth day I heard Nick ask him if he wanted to go to breakfast with him and Warrick, but Archie said no, he already had plans and turned to ask me "Are you ready?" with his cute smile.

God, that smile just makes my insides all gooey.

Which probably explains why we ended up back at his place that morning, making out like hormone crazed teenagers. Well, that and the fact I've had a near stalker-like crush on him for the past…oh, ever.

Kissing somebody who is nearly a foot taller than you can prove logistically problematic; but it can be a lot of fun working the kinks out. For a quick peck standing works, but anything longer just gets uncomfortable, especially for him, since he's the one who has to bend. So, sitting works good. Sitting on his lap works even better. But the best, the best is lying down.

Which probably explains how we ended up sleeping together after breakfast number eight. Well, that and the fact that he is adorably hot.

So, back to what I was saying. We had a date this morning and like every other morning we went to breakfast and talked and then we went back to his apartment and…and…I don't know what to call it, really, because I don't know what we're doing? Having sex sounds too cold and it's not cold. Not at all.

Making love sounds too cheesy, though I do think, I maybe…might…really could…possibly…love him. And not the stalker crush thing either, I think I might really, maybe, for real…love him.

And I know I just said we slept together, but sleeping together isn't really it, because we don't sleep and when we're…done, I leave. Not because I want to, but because, you know, I don't know what he wants and it can be so awkward and he's so smart and funny and cute and I'm just…Judy.

So, we had breakfast and talked and came back to his place and…did…what we do and we maybe waited too long afterwards, because it just feels so good to be that close and hold each other and still feel completely connected…but, you know, not so good to wait too long if your method of birth control is a condom.

So, we've had an accident.

A really, really bad, very upsetting, oh my God why did we wait so long, it slipped even though he was holding it, he had to get it out of me and I just want to die of embarrassment accident. Not to mention the terrified of getting pregnant aspect of the whole thing.

I know most women would just go get an emergency contraceptive. But I can't. I'm Catholic. I know, I know. I'm not so Catholic that I can have premarital sex and use a condom but I am just Catholic enough I can't use the morning after pill. I'm not even sure how the lines are drawn inside my head, but they're there. And I can't cross them.

So, now I'm lying here in his bed and I should really get up and put my clothes on and go home and have a breakdown all by myself, but…but I just can't move right now. I'm too embarrassed and scared and absolutely sure he's never going to want to see me again after this. And if I don't move, maybe time won't move forward. Maybe I can put my head under the covers and never come out and I'll never have to deal with any of this.

I'm just going to lie here and stare at the wall until he asks me to leave or I can't take it any more. It's a nice wall. It's blue. His whole apartment is nice. It's a little bigger than mine. And it's fairly well done for a guy's place. The only thing a little nerdy is a bookcase full of comic books and action figures. He's weirdly obsessed with Star Wars and The PowerRangers. But it's cute.

Everything about him is cute.

And he's never going to want to see me again. And I might already be pregnant. Oh, god, this is just awful.

I feel the bed dip and I know he's back from disposing of the god awful, I hope it goes to latex hell, condom. How awkward is this going to be?

"Hey." I don't know what surprises me more, that his voice is so gentle or that he's snuggled up against my back, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Hey." I hate how wobbly my voice sounds. I've been fighting tears since we determined he was going to have to fish the darned condom out of me, but I haven't really cried yet.

He presses a gentle little kiss against my shoulder; I can't believe he's being so sweet. "You OK?"

Well, how am I supposed to answer that? I don't want to sound hysterical but I also know I'm not a good actress or a good liar. Let's go with ambiguous. "I'm not sure."

I feel him move some of my hair and press a kiss against my neck. "I'm sorry." I can feel his breath on my skin and it is distracting me, just a little, from my panic. "I should have gotten rid of it sooner." His arm wraps around me and I can feel his other hand in my hair. "You just…you just feel so good." I can hear him swallow. "I know you're probably mad at me." Is that fear I hear in his voice? He's afraid I'm upset with him? Well, that's just silly. I should have known better; I'm upset with me.

I roll over to look at him. His eyes, goodness, his eyes have got to be the most gorgeous thing on the planet. I'm trying really hard not to think about a little baby with those same deep, dark eyes. "I'm not mad." My voice is kind of flat; not wobbly any more but maybe just a little bit cautious.

"You're not?" Now he sounds surprised and really pleased and I see a little bit of that wonderful smile just starting to lift the corners of his mouth and the lump is back in my throat because he's not embarrassed or disgusted, he's worried about me. And, I can't help it, even though I know I should get out of his bed and be on my way so this awful experience is over with, I bury my head against his neck and fail, completely, at trying not to cry.

I'm trying to be quiet and not sob or sniffle, but there's nothing I can do about the big fat tears that fall off of my cheeks onto his skin. Is it wrong that no matter how embarrassed and scared I am (and I am crying for goodness sake) that the sudden, inane and sort of lewd thought pops into my head that I could just lick my tears off his neck and chest?

"Hey," his voice is even gentler and that makes me cry harder. "Hey." Both arms are around me now and he's pressing kisses into my hair. "Don't cry, Baby, please don't cry."

Did he just call me Baby? Well, that's…wow. We've known each other for years and I've had a crush on him for most of that time and we've been sort of dating for about a month and…having…sex…for a couple of weeks and he's only ever called me Judy. Just Judy. The surprise and thrill of the endearment stops me from crying. It must mean something, right? If he called me Baby? Or is he just feeling sorry for me because I was crying? And, you know, he just saw me in the most scary and embarrassing moment of my life. I'd have a better idea if I could see his face.

But I'm not quite ready to look at him yet. Or rather, I'm not quite ready for him to look at me.

I'm not one of those women who can look pretty and distressed at the same time when she cries. I've seen Catherine from the lab cry and she still manages to look elegant. Not me. I look downright scary when I cry. So, I need a minute before I'm going to let him see my blotchy red swollen face.

But I need to let him know I'm not camping out or anything. "I should go." I know my voice is muffled against him, but I'm pretty sure he can still understand me.

He sighs and kisses the top of my head again. "You should stay." His voice is a little bit sad sounding and I don't know if it's because he thinks I want to go and he doesn't want me to or if it's because he feels bad because I'm so upset and he thinks the right thing to do is ask me to stay.

It's so confusing. I'm so confused. I'm just going to have to ask him.

I really, really like him, maybe more than like him…probably more than like him and I haven't wanted to scare him off but I really can't keep trying to figure out what's going on. I wouldn't have minded trying to figure it out on my own for a while longer, but now I've got bigger things to worry about and I need to know. I move my mouth away from his chest so my voice will be a little clearer. "Archie?"

"Hmm?" The way he hums that makes me smile and I can feel him burying his nose in my hair and inhaling. It's when he does things like that I think maybe, just maybe he really likes me, too. He wouldn't smell my hair if he didn't like me some, right? And then I wonder what the heck I'm doing having…sex…with a guy when I don't even know if he likes me, well, you know, beyond the obvious.

I take a big, brave breath. "What are we doing?"

"Cuddling?" There's laughter in the way he questions me with that one word and I feel myself, incredibly, want to laugh back.

I smack his arm instead. He has really nice arms…I can't look at his arms without wanting to…without thinking about…well, you know. Because when we're…like…that and I turn my head, I see his arms and how his muscles tighten and it is really very… erotic.

Wait, lost my focus there for a minute. I pull away and risk actually meeting his gaze. "I mean, what are we doing?"

"Uh…what do you want us to be doing?" He looks concerned and a little bit confused and very, very cute because even concerned and confused he's still got that sparkle in his eyes and the tilt to his mouth that just makes me want to kiss him silly.

"Archie!" It took all of my courage to ask once, I'm not going to ask again.

I guess my tone or the look on my face must have conveyed what I can't with words and he smirks at me. "Ms Treemont, are you asking what my intentions are?"

The way he says that with a smile in his voice is just so reassuring and I can feel relief flooding through me. He does like me. I giggle. I hate it when I giggle. I hate it when I dither, too. But I seem to do both an awful lot around him.

I certainly don't want to admit to actually asking what his intentions are, but it is what I'm asking, so, I just bury my head against his neck and giggle. Again. Then I roll my eyes at myself. Jeez. Catherine never giggles. Sara never giggles. Mandy never giggles…well, ok, she does some, but not much.

But, it's ok, 'cause no matter how goofy I'm acting, he must not think it's too awful, because he's hugging me against him and he seems really happy. "Well, first I intend to kiss you, right here." And he kisses me right where my neck curves down into my shoulder. "Then, I intend to let you know, that I am serious about you and pursuing a relationship with you."

He sort of nudges the side of my face to get me to look at him; he looks serious but not scared or upset. "And if the little accident we just had," he sort of nods his head toward the bathroom where he disposed of the evil condom, "results in a bigger accident, we'll work through everything together." He lowers his forehead to rest against mine and I feel…I feel…loved. "I'll be with you, no matter what."

My face must have changed, because he's smiling at me again. "Then," his smile turns sort of, well, wicked, "I intend to make love to you again." It doesn't sound cheesy at all when he says it but I can feel myself blushing and darnit! I giggle again. "Then, I intend to go to sleep wrapped around you and we can do the whole thing all over again tomorrow." He waggles his eyebrows at me. "How does that sound?"

"Good," I sigh. "It sounds really, really good."