"I hate ferrets," Myka informs Pete's knee.

Pete groans, but she's pretty sure that's more because there's a table, several books, various office supplies, and Myka herself currently piled on top of him than a newfound ferret-hatred.

"Look, I'm not too wild about them either, but there's a table on top of you."

"Yeah."

"And you're on top of me."

"Not willingly."

"Hey, guys, there's a table on top of you." Steve's voice comes from the direction of Myka's doorway. Myka would look look up to confirm it's him, but as the newest addition to their team so astutely observed, there's a table on top of her, and she doesn't think it's a good idea to bend her spine the required ninety degrees so she can see his face.

"Help us get this thing off, Poopypants."

"Be nice to him," Myka groans, trying for the fifth time to try and lift herself off of Pete with the arm that isn't trapped between Pete's stomach and the table. "He's our only hope. Steve?"

"Sure. Anything for you, Myka." She's not sure, but she thinks she sees Pete stick his tongue out at Steve out of the corner of her eye.

With a grunt from Steve and a push from herself and Pete, the table (and all its contents) are off them.

"I'm going to knit you a scarf to thank you," Myka says, scrambling to her feet. "Made of ferret fur."

Steve barely blinks. "I'm sure it'll be very soft."

"I like you the best," Myka tells him. He smirks, waving as he backs out of the room.

"Don't have too much fun with the inventorying," Pete calls. "And watch out for Claudia! You know how she gets in the Turing and Lovelace aisles!"

"I know!" he calls back.

"He knows," Myka says at the same time, wrinkling her nose at Pete.

"I know he knows," Pete replies, stretching. He presses a hand to his stomach and winces.

"Why's your stomach hurting?" Myka asks, pushing her desk back to an upright – if precariously so – position. "I landed on your legs."

"Yeah, I know – God. It feels like somebody's stabbing me." Pete grimaces. "I've been having these dreams – never mind."

Myka frowns. "You sure it's not something serious? You should go see a doctor."

"Just weird phantom pains," Pete says, waving it off. "Also, I hate your ferret."

"Nobody told you to play tag with him," Myka replies archly, crossing her arms. "That's my thing."

"Well, nobody told me that your desk was missing a leg!"

"I'm getting it fixed today! Which I would have told you, if you hadn't barged into my room while I wasn't here, to play tag with a hyperactive weasel!"

"For, like, the millionth time, I didn't know your desk was missing a leg!"

"Yeah? Well, you knocked it over anyway with your – your great big, bumbling –"

"Hey, hey, hey!"

Myka huffs. "What did you think was going to happen when you aggravated my poor little ferret?"

"Oh, now he's the poor little ferret? How did your desk even lose its leg? And what happened to the hand-knitted fur scarves in our futures?"

"Steve's future."

"Hand knitted glove, maybe," Pete muses, scratching his chin. "Barely any fur on the little guy."

The little guy chooses then to pop his head out from beneath Myka's bed.

"I hate you," Pete and Myka say simultaneously.

Myka punches him. "You can't hate him!"

"What!" Pete yelps and they begin bickering in earnest.

Neither of them notices the ever curious ferret go re-investigate the haphazardly propped-up desk.


"Do you want a family? Like – like a ferret wife and furry little kits?"

On the middle of Myka's bed, Pete pauses in his attack on his plastic bunny toy and tilts his head at her with an expression far too amused for Myka's liking. She rubs her – flat once again – belly self-consciously.

"I don't want kids," she starts slowly. "I'm pretty sure I don't want kids. I mean, it's a lifelong commitment, the strongest and most important lifelong commitment in the world and I don't know if I'll ever be ready for that or if I'll ever even want that. And getting pregnant – Pete got me pregnant via artifact yesterday, can you believe that?" She sighs. "Getting pregnant was weird. But not necessarily in a bad way. I think."

Pete the ferret chirps excitedly as Myka rummages in the drawer to bring out the well-chewed cut of rope they use to play tug of war. She sighs as Pete eagerly latches on to his end of the rope, pulling back halfheartedly.

There's a knock at her door and Myka looks up. Pete the ferret takes advantage of her distraction and steals away the rope.

"Hey," Pete (the human) peeks in with a tentative smile. "Dinner's ready, you coming?"

"Yeah, I'll be down in a minute."

"Mykes?" Pete shuffles nervously in place.

Myka breathes through a rush of fondness for him. "Pete, it's okay."

"I – with the artifact yesterday – I know we didn't get a chance to talk but I wouldn't ever –"

"Pete," she says firmly. "It's okay. You didn't mean to, and all the wishing artifact did was show us that we're a family, which we knew already. There's nothing to apologize for."

He squints at her. "Then why am I getting weird vibes from you?"

Myka exhales. "Yeah, I think I have leftover hormones from the pseudocyesis. My body – "

Pete's eyebrows jump so high on his forehead Myka has to stifle a laugh. "The what now?"

"False pregnancy."

"Does that mean you're gonna hit me more?"

"I'll always hit you," Myka returns. It's not an you're my little brother and I love you but it's the closest they get.

Pete grins, bright and easy, the way she's used to and Myka feels an answering smile on her face. "D'you know what's for dinner?"

"Do I?" Pete cries, and tugs her down the hallway at an alarming pace. Myka follows (is dragged), laughing.


She's shaking when she comes back from the physical, trembling all over.

Myka – carefully, slowly – shuts the door behind her. She winces at the audible click, even though it's ten at night and no one is asleep yet.

The ferret chirps at her in the middle of the room, jumping into the air in a way that would normally make her laugh but right now the world is dimming around her and her heart is racing and she's far, far too overheated. She wants to pace around the room but the dizziness prevents her, she wants to sit down but the nearest seat is a good two feet away and Myka can't make herself walk that far, she just can't.

She slips to the floor, back pressed hard against the closed door and breathes, just breathes gasping in air again and again.

Something bounces off her bent knee and she looks down to see an unopened water bottle and a ferret nosing it into her leg.

It'll help, she tells herself, from some corner of her brain that is still functioning. Her shaking fingers twist open the lid while the ferret chirrups softly, continuously, soothingly.

The gulp of water is helpful, kind of. Keep breathing, she thinks. Pete nudges at a fist, nudging and nudging until finally Myka unclenches her fingers and strokes the soft fur on his head.

He climbs into her lap and Myka scoops him up, curling in on herself and holding him close.

"You saved my life, you know?" She mumbles it into his fur. "A few weeks after I first got you? If you hadn't wrestled the mouse away from me, I might not have accidentally clicked on on a baby names websites and I may not have named you after the most annoying man I know. And the sweetest, and the most loyal.

"You saved me from being trapped in a mirror forever. Have I ever – there's so much I haven't –"

Pete the happily named ferret chirrups into her neck, rubbing his head so that the whiskers tickle her.

"I've never even thanked you for that, what can I do to – " He scampers off her, into Myka's closet. Myka stares after him, listening to the rustling inside in bemusement.

He backs out slowly, his raised tail somehow communicating mischief, a bag of ferret treats in his mouth and an expectant look in his eyes.


"Don't worry, okay?" Myka pets along Pete's side, staring at the door. "I promise you somebody will be around to take care of you if I – if." Myka bites down on her lower lip.

It's midnight and Myka can't sleep.

"I should go tell human Pete about the surgery," she murmurs, staring at her bedroom door. "I'm going to have to, right? Wish me luck."

Pete chirps against her neck, and Myka sucks in a deep, deep breath.