Edward had showed up a bit early to escort Heather to the office. He'd discovered that showing up early and having to 'wait for her' was a sneaky way of stealing a few more precious minutes alone with Heather. So he was sitting at her kitchen table, holding her left hand while she ate with her right. It was silly, he supposed, but he didn't care.

"So how did it go?" Edward asked. He hadn't been happy about the 'date', but Heather was right about appearances.

"Apparently you're a better actor than I am." The admission was grudging, given how he'd twitted her over it.

"Oh?" He tried not to smirk, and almost succeeded.

"Everyone knows I like you; you, however, aren't ready yet."

"I suppose that's to be expected, Ms. I-have-no-poker-face."

"I should point out that they also believe you've already sorta picked me. You just don't know it yet." She smirked at him. "Hey, do these eggs smell funny to you?"

He dutifully sniffed the eggs.

"Smell fine to me. Of course, I'm used to powdered mess tent eggs."

"Thanks for the qualification."

"Just being honest."

She sat down to eat them anyway, since wasting food was practically criminal. Ed watched her choke down the first bite.

"That bad? Really?"

"You wanna try it?"

"Okay."

"It's not so bad – Heather?" Heather was retching, and running to the bathroom. He followed, pulling the hair out of her face. He waited until she was done, then wiped her face.

"Guess you're staying home today. What else have you got?" He put a hand on her forehead. "No fever. Any coughing? Sneezing?"

"No."

"Tired? Achy?

"Always."

"I don't suppose you ate any more egg salad?" She shook her head. He sighed. "Well, let's at least get you horizontal." He steered her to the bed, but then she tripped over the edge of the rug. Fortunately, he managed to catch her.

"Ow!"

"Did you stub your toe?"

"No, you just grabbed my boob."

He chuckled.

"Sorry."

She glared at him.

"Hey, I didn't grab it that hard."

"Well, it hurts."

Something twigged in the back of his mind. He ran his finger over her other breast. She grimaced.

"That shouldn't hurt, Heather." He paused, thinking for another way to test the hypothesis forming in the back of his brain. "Lie down." He went to the microfridge. Ah, he was in luck. A piece of raw venison. He brought it over to Heather, who was looking on in confusion. "Smell this." He cracked the lid and held it up to her nose. She immediately gagged.

"Heather, when was your last period?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

"But – but – that's not possible! You know I'm on the pill!"

"And here you are, showing symptoms."

"It's got to be something else."

"I can't think of anything else. Let me get Mrs. Green over here, have her take a look at you."

She nodded consent, but she was still in shock.

"God, what if I am? What do I do?"

"Well, we sit down and discuss it like the responsible adults we allegedly are."

"It would totally blow our cover."

"Well, that's getting pretty thin, as you've just discovered. We could just say the heck with it and announce it. It would mean a full-time bodyguard."

"Ugh."

"Sorry, but it wouldn't just be for you." He stood. "Of course, we may be getting worked up over nothing. You sit tight, and I'll get her to come over."

"You can't just call her on the radio?"

"I am not putting this call over the radio." He kissed her and pulled a trash can next to the bed. "I have to go now. I'll be back soon."

Oh, thank god. She's already outside.

Beck went straight to the med center. He'd been trying to think of a legitimate pretext to ask for Mrs. Green, but had come up blank. His mind kept returning to the possibility of - . He broke off the thought and sped up to come alongside her.

"Mrs. Green?"

"Major." Gail smiled at him, until his worried expression registered. "What is it?"

"I, uh, - you got a minute?"

"Sure. You want to go inside?"

"Not if we're overheard."

"Heather?"

"Yes."

"She's been vomiting?"

"Wha -?"

"Major, your jacket has a bit of – " she pointed. "It has a rather distinct smell."

"Oh." He looked down. "Well, she's been sick all morning." Gail's eyebrows went up as she caught the slight emphasis on 'sick' and 'morning' and made the connection.

"Really? I thought that she was - " She broke off a someone passed by. Beck nodded; Gail had been able to discreetly supply Heather with the pill.

"She is. But the symptoms – "

"House call it is, then."

A look of relief washed over Beck's face.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

"But I've taken my pill every day – never missed a dose - ever!"

A light bulb went off in Gail's head.

"Well, the timing's about right…" she murmured to herself

"What!" Heather glared at Edward, who looked confused.

"What?"

"He told you when we - !" Heather broke off, unable to continue.

Gail, realizing she'd been misunderstood, couldn't help but laugh.

"God, no, I just meant that it's been about a month since you had food poisoning."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Heather, what time each day do you take the pill?"

"With breakfast."

"And what time of day did you get sick after eating that chicken salad?"

"About ten in th– oh. OH."

"You took it, but it probably came right back up." She explained unnecessarily.

"So I don't need to smack him upside the head?"

"Not for this, no."

"Whaddaya mean, 'not for this'?" Edward cut in.

"I'm sure there's something you need to be smacked over. I just don't know what it is." She began to pack. "I'll get the results to you tomorrow."

"And nobody will know the test is for me?"

"Heather, do you have any idea how many anonymous pregnancy tests I've run? Nobody will question it."

"Thanks."

As Gail gathered up her kit, she heard a smack.

"Hey! What was that for!"

"General principle."

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, then attacked her with tickles, only stopping when he'd pinned her down on the couch. Heather mock-glared up at him. Gail thought they looked adorable. She actually felt a bit of a twinge; the sight of Beck grinning in his green army t-shirt reminded her of Johnston. But any resentment she felt quickly dissipated, and she smiled.

"Hey, general principal."

"Alright. We're even." Edward relented, leaning back to let her up. Just then, Heather grabbed his dogtags.

"When?" she asked, holding up his wedding ring. It was on the chain with Ally's ring and Jenny's tags, not with his dogtags.

"When you went out on that 'date'. I did a lot of thinking after I got over my initial jealous reaction. I realized – " he shrugged, unable to articulate it. "It doesn't bother you that I still wear it, does it?"

"No, Eddy, of course not! They're a part of who you are."

He looked at her for a long moment, running his fingers along her cheek.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?"

Gail smothered a chuckle as Heather pulled him in for a kiss and showed herself out the door.