"What do you mean?"

She breaks eye contact, "I don't really know how to say this."

He places her hand on her leg, "Maura if you don't feel the same way just say so. I don't want to push you into something. If I am moving too fast you can tell me."

"It isn't that. I have to admit that I was caught off guard."

"That is my fault."

"Not just by this."

"Is this because of the subarachnoid hemorrhage? Maura, I know that it could rupture. I know that the surgery may not be successful, if you have it. I will be right here, no matter what. It is a chance I am willing to take."

"There has been a complication," she begins.

"Oh," his heart sinks.

"It increases my risk of a hypertensive crisis, stroke, hemorrhage, and even death," Maura explains.

"What are you talking about?"

"It certainly was not anticipated."

"Something showed up on your most recent MRI?"

"No. The MRI did not show any progression."

"I don't understand."

"You are not the only one who feels incredibly foolish. I should have known, there were plenty of signs, and symptoms. I chose to ignore them, or chalk them up to something else."

"Maura, what are you talking about?"

"I did receive some news when I went for my MRI yesterday."

"What news?"

"I wasn't going to tell you. I am not used to having to account for anyone's thoughts, or feelings, but my own. I now realize that was incredibly selfish. When I came home today I had resigned myself to making the decision without discussing any of it with you. I have a tendency, as you know, to shut people out."

He stops her, "Maura you're rambling."

"That is because I have no idea how to express to you what it is that I need to say," she admits.

"Keep it simple," he suggests.

She nods, "Okay. I am pregnant."

He momentarily falls silent. He studies her facial expression. After several seconds of careful consideration he begins to speak, "That was not what I was expecting you to say."

"I was not expecting to say it, or experience it, or consider it."

"Just to be clear, you are pregnant, with a human baby, not a cyborg?"

"That is not a funny joke. Obviously, you have been spending too much time with Jane."

"You are being serious? You are pregnant?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Oh? That is all you have to say?" She begins to grow irritated.

"I am not sure what to say."

"To clarify, I am pregnant, and it is yours."

"Mine," he places his hand on his chest.

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Why do you keep saying, 'Oh'?"

"Because I am in shock. I cannot seem to string together an intelligible thought."

"Do you need a minute?"

"I need more information," he responds.

"Regarding what? Date of conception?"

He exhales, "No. I don't know what to say, because you haven't said what you want to do."

"Oh."

"Pregnancy at this point, for a multitude of reasons would be incredibly risky."

"Yes."

"The scientist in me says that the likelihood of at least one of the potential risks actually occurring is rather high."

"Yes."

"I know you to be a very calculating, fact based human being."

She reaches into the pocket of her pants. She pulls out a folded piece of paper. She unfolds the image, and lies it on the counter, in front of him. She swallows hard trying to keep her tears at bay.

"There are a million different scenarios, and dozens of different variables in this situation. There are several very likely outcomes in this situation," she explains, as the tears begin to betray her.

"That is all true."

"I am faced with a lot of facts. In the past I probably would have made a decision, and never told you. That isn't fair to anyone involved in the situation. I can't shut down this time. It isn't okay for me to shut you out. You get to voice your thoughts, and feelings."

"This is very risky, and I am incredibly concerned that I could lose you," he admits.

The tears stream down her cheeks. She breaks eye contact. Her attention is drawn to an image lying on the countertop between them. "I have looked at all of the evidence. I could spend countless hours going over the calculations, but every single time I come back to the same thing," she points to the image lying between them, "I cannot stop thinking about one fact. Every single time I come back to this one fact. I find myself feeling completely irrational, as I cannot seem to seriously consider any other decision."

"Which is what?"

"The fact is that we created a life. When I think about the future, all I can think about is that one life. I have decided that no matter what complications arise I am committed to bringing that life into the world."

"It could kill you," he points out, with his eyes full of tears.

"Then I will do it with my last breath," she tells him.

"Are you sure about this?" He asks her.

He wipes the tears from her face with the tips of his fingers. She nods, "I have never been surer about anything, in my entire life."

He smiles at her, and she furrows her brow. "Why are you smiling?" She wonders.

His grin grows wider, "Because we're going to have a baby."

"You're happy about that?"

"I am both completely terrified, and ecstatic."

"So am I."

"So, are you going to marry me?" He shifts the direction of the conversation, "Or are you too good for a shotgun wedding?"

She begins laughing hysterically, "No."

"No, you won't marry me?"

"No, I'm not too good for a shotgun wedding."

"By the time you actually get it planned our child will probably be twelve, so it won't actually be a shotgun wedding."