SargeGrey. Doctor Grey has some hilarious news.

Wondering Why We're Here
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Sargegrey: Knocked Up

The joy and the pain of Emily Grey was that, quite simply, she was a very direct woman.

Chorus' progress in the years after the war at times felt slow on a grander scale, but in the progress they had made with her assisting the medical facilities, they had actually made great headway into keeping people alive on their colony for once.

Over a year after the Charon Industries ships had cleared from the skies and Doctor Grey had found that there was a subtle but definite shift in what her concentration was – from repairing and replacing limbs and wounds, to providing help for malnourishment and illness, and delivering new life to Chorus.

She never did quite get over the fact that the first child to be born on Chorus after the war had been named Emily.

It was such a sentimental, little thing, that had touched her in ways that weren't expected.

Which was why the results of her own test were probably not receiving the undo horror from her that they might have otherwise.

There was probably a more private, more personal way to do these things, but that was a practice in wasting time for people who felt shame. And Doctor Emily Grey felt no shame. Ever.

So while the bustling kitchen was full arguments and chatter the way it was any morning in the home taken up by Red Team, Emily made a direct beeline toward the kitchen table where Sarge was sipping on a mug of coffee and reading over what looked like an instruction manual covered in diesel fluid.

She slid into the chair across from him, slapping the medical scanner on the table and ignoring how the kitchen grew quiet around them.

Sarge looked at her from over his mug and then sipped again.

"It's green," she informed him.

His nose curled slightly. "Bah. Such a Bluish color."

Behind them, the trio of Donut, Grif, and Simmons were scratching their heads and shrugging at each other unhelpfully. Which was fine as far as Doctor Grey was concerned.

Lopez, however, stiffened. "Oh mierda."

Doctor Grey bounced slightly in her chair, emphatic smile peeling across her face. "No, Colonel, don't you see? Look at the shade of green – do you know what it means? What it represents?"

He eyed her for a moment before putting down his manual and coffee. He reached for the medical scanner and began to turn it back and forth, squinting as if it was supposed to give him something to work with if he turned it to just the right angle. He set it down.

"I think it's on," he reported.

"No, silly!" Grey laughed, taking it off the table and turning it so that the green glow would light up just in line with his vision. "This shade, it's a response to human chorionic gonadotropin."

"I heard gonads!" Donut announced.

"Not now, Donut, I'm trying to decipher the lovely doctor," Sarge growled with a wave.

She grinned at the lightish red soldier. "You're not wrong, Private! You certainly heard that for a reason!"

He made a quick jab of his fist. "Awwwwwright!"

Grif rolled his eyes but beside him Simmons just looked pale and shell shocked. He whipped around, looking mortified at Sarge, then back at Grey, then back at Sarge. He looked ready to faint.

"Why are you measuring doohickeys?" Sarge finally went for the bait.

"It's not doohickeys, they're HCGs," Grey corrected, reaching over to pat Sarge's hand. "They're a hormone you measure to determine pregnancy."

There was a collective gasp from the peanut gallery.

"Oh, so you're positive?" Sarge asked, almost entirely nonchalant.

"I am," she preened. "I'm expecting!"

"SARGE!" the boys screamed only for Grif to collapse on the floor with barely a look his way from the other two.

"You dog," Donut grinned.

"Sarge!? Aren't you even shocked by this?" Simmons demanded.

"No, why would I be?" he demanded, grabbing for his coffee again. "The doctor and I are as fertile as the banks of the Nile. I didn't need the Whip Bam Bingo to tell me that!"