A/N: I never expected this story to be so popular! Thank you all SO MUCH! This chapter is dedicated to all of my readers who have seen my story and said, "Well, I've got nothin' else to do."

Disclaimer: I could never come up with something as beautiful as Wreck-it Ralph.

Calhoun took a breath as she paced back and forth. This was it. She was going into the belly of the beast. The dark side. The gates of. . well, you get the picture.

Calhoun had been thinking about a strategy all day, but had yet to come up with one, only because she had never dealt with a creature this complex. So now, she was forced to do something she almost never did. She had to fight every single one of her instincts and go in blind.

She hated to admit it, but she was actually a little nervous, she just wouldn't say it if anyone asked. Calhoun knew that there was a possibility that she wouldn't be able to escape, since she wasn't bringing any backup with her whatsoever. Just in case things got wild, she was bringing one gun with her.

The sergeant took another deep breath and prepared for the toughest battle of her life. She grabbed the doorknob and slowly entered Mrs. Fix-it's room.

Mrs. Fix-it was sitting up in her bed, her small body propped up against several pillows. The room was a little unkempt, which was unnatural, because Mrs. Fix-it was a very tidy house guest. She was reading a book, as an obvious attempt to cover up the fact that she wasn't ignoring Calhoun's presence. The sergeant bit her lip, "Hello, Mrs. Fix-it."

Mrs. Fix-it glanced up, only briefly, and coolly said, "Tamora."

Calhoun sucked in her cheeks and bit down on the inside of her mouth. Silence quickly engulfed the room once more. She began rubbing her hands up and down her arms. Apologies weren't really her strong suit. Mostly, whenever she said apologies it was to her men, and it was usually just a punch on the arm and a simple, 'Sorry, cadet. Get back in formation.' She had never said a truly sincere apology and if she ever had to say one, it sounded very forced.

Tamora sat down on the edge of the bed and took another deep breath, "Listen, Mrs. Fix-it. I know you're mad about this secret baby-"

Mrs. Fix-it abruptly closed her book and squealed, "I'm not mad! I'm worried for this child!"

Calhoun took this as an offence and crossed her arms, "What? Do you think I'm smoking pot every night?"

"Just think. This baby could be filled with the devil's spirit, and we couldn't save it, because it's too late!" Mrs. Fix-it said, shivering in fear, "Oh, my land."

Calhoun had to stop herself from rolling her eyes, "Mrs. Fix-it, the baby is fine."

Mrs. Fix-it shook her head, "I can't believe my own, little Moonpie would keep this from me."

Calhoun rolled her eyes, "Don't blame Felix. He's just a country boy with a big heart, great skin and soft hands." She sighed and sat down on the bed next to her mother-in-law, "It's my fault. I wanted to keep this from you."

"What? Why?" Mrs. Fix-it said.

"Because, you always judge. You're just a big judger. And sometimes it gets so annoying that I just want to squeeze your head til it pops like a zit." Calhoun said nodding.

Mrs. Fix-it stared at Tamora for a really long time.

Calhoun sighed, "Well, I was worried that you were going to judge me for having a baby, or going to work while I was pregnant, or something like that, and, I don't know, I just didn't want to have to deal with that."

Mrs. Fix-it looked over at Calhoun and whispered, "But I was gonna find out sooner or later."

Calhoun softly laughed, "I guess you chose sooner."

Mrs. Fix-it didn't laugh. She nodded and said, "Well, this will take me awhile to get used to, but I suppose," She paused and fidgeted at bit, "I'm happy for you."

Calhoun looked down at Mrs. Fix-it, "You are? Because," Calhoun took a very short pause to look down at her shoes and quickly said, "I am very sorry I lied to you."

Mrs. Fix-it smiled, "Apology accepted, . . Tammy."

Calhoun nodded and smiled, "Good. That's good." She stood, "I look forward to seeing your revenge. It should be, um, interesting."

"What?" Mrs. Fix-it asked confusedly.

Calhoun laughed awkwardly, "I didn't tell you about the existence of a human being. That was wrong. Big time wrong. Now, you have to, ya know, get me back. So then, we're. . . even."

Mrs. Fix-it smiled, "Deary, we are even. You said you were sorry, I accepted your apology, what's done is done. Isn't it?"

Calhoun shook her head, "No!" Calhoun cleared her throat, "That's not how this works. I did something bad, you have to punish me. That's the right thing to do. That's the fair thing to do. It's the best thing you can do."

Mrs. Fix-it stroked Calhoun's hand, "Honey, I think we're all good, don't you?"

Calhoun pulled her hand away, "No! No, you have to get back at me! Shave off all my hair! Give me food poisoning! Demand I get a divorce from your son! Do something!"

Calhoun noticed that she was beginning to sound less like a sergeant, and more like a child having a temper tantrum. She reminded herself that she needed to calm down.

Mrs. Fix-it chuckled, "I assure you I will not do anything of that nature."

Calhoun began moving slowly towards the door, "Okay. Okay. But you will do something, right?"

"Goodbye, Tammy. Have a swell day." Mrs. Fix-it said as she hopped back on her bed began reading her book.

"Anything? Anything at all?" Calhoun asked relentlessly as she opened the door.

"See you at supper, Honey-suckle!" Mrs. Fix-it called after her, waving.

As Calhoun lighlty shut the door, she played over the events over again in her head. She crossed her arms and hopelessly asked, "What is Mod's name was that?"

She began walking down the hallway and into her own bedroom so she could change into her after-work clothes. She began thinking about her current, puzzling situation.

So were things back to the way they were? No. No, they couldn't be. Mrs. Fix-it needed to get back at her to prove that things were normal again. Was Mrs. Fix-it even going to get back at her at all? She had to. She just had to. If she didn't, then Calhoun knew that she would have to live with the guilt of not telling her about the child for the rest of her programed life. And the guilt would eat at her until she had to start shooting people from a bell tower to deal with the stress.

She rested her hand against the doorknob. Calhoun let out an aggravated sigh and slumped against the wall. She grumbled, "Oh, Mod. That old woman is going to drive me crazy."

A/N: I admit, that would've been a pretty good place to end it, but rest assured, the best is yet to come. I expect only one more chapter, but I may add another on. . . if I feel like it. Having any readers at all is great, but your reviews make my day!