A/N - I promise this story isn't dead. It's actually nearly done. Here's a massive update of multiple chapters for you all! Thanks for being so patient! -Snow

It was nearly a week before Grace saw Ronon again. It took no small amount of self-control to keep herself from going to find him, to apologize for the cruel words she'd spoken. She'd been so blunt with Teyla and yet she was doing the exact same thing, demanding he be someone he wasn't, someone he couldn't be. As she stood outside the door of the suite where the supper club met, her hand trembled. The vodka bottle she carried was meant to give her something to do with her hands.

She'd traded her last box of smuggled Twinkies to Zelenka for two of them, with the intention of drinking herself into oblivion. She'd succeeded with the first bottle, but the hangover had been so brutal that she hadn't even bothered to open the second. Best to get rid of it, and though she wasn't much of a drinker normally, maybe the alcohol would ease the ache of seeing Ronon tonight, especially here, in front of the rest of the group, knowing it was the last time she would have dinner with them. Her leave date had already been set. The Daedalus would arrive in two weeks, and when they left, she'd be on board.

For all the times she'd heard about workplace romances ending in disaster, she'd thought herself above it. Those things only happened to people who thought with their hearts and not their brains. And yet here she was, leaving the place that had become home to her, because she knew her heart wouldn't be able to withstand it.

"Grace? You okay?" A soft voice from behind her jerked her from her musings and back to the present. She spun to see Cindy standing a few steps away, holding a bottle of wine. The other woman winced a little. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you, but you've been staring at the door for like five minutes without moving."

"Oh." She couldn't even muster a decent excuse. Instead she stepped aside and gestured toward the door. "Sorry. Just thinking about things."

Cindy frowned faintly and stepped closer, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. The concern in her friend's eyes was obvious. "Hey. What's going on?"

"Nothing. It's nothing. Just… a long week." She plastered on her best smile and steeled herself, reaching out to swipe a hand over the door controls. It slid open before the other woman could say anything else. Grace gestured for Cole to go first and then followed behind her, slipping her shoes off at the door. When she heard a deep, rich laugh from the kitchen it caused her rebellious body to respond, even though it was the last thing she wanted.

His touch still lingered on her skin, like a phantom caress her body could never fully reject. Would it always be like this? Would even the most mundane reminder make her want to run and hide like the coward she'd accused him of being? Her stomach pitched, as it had been doing for the past week. Even the scent of the food, though amazing, still made her belly do flops.

She drew in a breath and headed for the table, placing down the bottle of vodka before turning to head for the kitchen. She ran headlong into Teyla, her hands shooting out to grip the other woman by the elbow. When she opened her mouth to stammer out an apology, the Athosian woman beat her to the punch. "Dr. Becque, I'm sorry."

"No, it's my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going." Grace summoned another of those smiles, but Teyla shook her head.

"That's not what I am referring to." Teyla glanced over her shoulder and then quickly ushered Grace toward the window, where there was some semblance of privacy, at least for a moment. "I mean that I am sorry for my words last week. You were right. I should not have interfered in what is between you and Ronon. He seems happy with you, and even if that happiness is temporary, I am grateful for it. In the future, I will take more care in the way I attempt to show my concern."

Grace swallowed hard at the unexpected apology. "No." She said quietly, drawing in a deep breath to steady her nerves, the first of many that night, she had no doubt. "I'm the one who needs to apologize. I lost my temper. You were right. I heard some unfortunate truths, and even though I knew them already, hearing them outloud was… let's go with disconcerting."

Teyla opened her mouth to speak, but the sound of footsteps and the rattle of dishes and conversation apparently made her think better of it. Instead, she gave Grace's should a squeeze. "We can talk later, if you like."

"I'm fine." Her smile must have been more convincing that time before Teyla gave her shoulder another of those odd little squeezes and headed for the table to take the dishes from Andy.

Lorne and Ronon followed, each carrying a cast iron skillet. Lorne's held a mixture of vegetables, still sizzling and popping from the heat the vessel retained. Evan set his down first and Grace headed for her usual seat, eyes coming to rest on the table. Ronon carefully placed the one he carried down on a cloth to protect the table. The thick cuts of meat were clearly some kind of steak, while the seasoning was a combination of gingery heat and something akin to a sweet citrus, like an orange but somehow different.

He didn't look at her as he took his seat beside her. She debated for a moment before sitting down. The last thing she wanted was to be here, to be seated beside him, to have to fake her way through the motions of the dinner. She shouldn't have come, she realized a moment too late as Ronon stood. It was the usual thing they did every time. The person who had prepared the meal explained what it was, acknowledged help they'd received in preparing it, and reminded everyone of the only three rules they really had. Everyone knew the rules, but it was part of the routine, part of what made it feel like a real family dinner.

"Tonight we have umatke steaks. It was raised on Sateda and a bunch of other, places, a kind of domesticated animal. Lorne said it looked like a cow, but smaller, so… I guess that's the best Earth equivalent I know of. Anyway, it's seared and then finished in the oven with favera peppers and corinda fruit." He then gestured to the other skillet. "And then tubera, like a….well, there's nothing like it that I've tasted here, maybe a potato? Anyway, there's that and some kameki mushrooms with a candied ma'ka sauce. Hot and sweet at the same time."

He didn't even look at her. It was like she wasn't even there. Grace wasn't sure if it made her feel better or worse as he nodded toward the rolls. "Teyla brought some kinda bread her people make, and we have wine and some vodka courtesy of Dr. Becque and Dr. Cole." That stung. He didn't even refer to her by her first name. Ronon cleared his throat before he continued. "No politics, no religion, no Wraith at the dinner table. Enjoy."

It was unbearable, to stare straight ahead with a smile fixed on her face as he took a seat beside her. He smelled of sandalwood, clove, and the spices he'd used to cook the meal. Everything in her screamed at her that she was on the verge of making the biggest mistake of her life, that she was giving up the one shot she would ever have.

"Grace, did you want some?" Andy's voice was edged with humor and when she tore her eyes from the random spot in space to look at him, he was grinning. "You were staring at the vodka bottle."

Her stomach turned at the mere idea of alcohol, but she nodded. "Yes, please." Maybe it would take the edge off. She waited patiently for her turn, passing her plate to be filled with a serving of the food that she knew, intellectually, smelled delicious. The second it was placed in front of her though, her vision blurred. Was the the overwhelming smells? Was it the stress? All she knew was that her head was suddenly fuzzy, and she couldn't keep the smile on her face.

She rose to her feet, reaching to steady herself with a hand on the edge of the table. "Grace?" A soft, feminine voice that sounded far away, Cindy most likely, called her name. The tone was laced with concern. "You all right?"

Grace raised a hand to wave off the question, opening her mouth to reassure her friend that she was fine. But she wasn't fine and the words wouldn't come out. She barely got out a single syllable when the world, which had been fuzzy around the edges, went into a full-tilt spin. Strong arms encircled her waist, and a warm breath huffed out her name in surprise before it went dark entirely.

Ronon stood next to the bed as Grace stared up at the ceiling of the infirmary. The confusion written on her pretty face was clear even as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Stay down." He kept his voice as gentle as he could. "Dr. Cole is looking at your scans to find out what's wrong."

"I'm fine. I just got a little light-headed, that's all." She wouldn't make eye contact with him.

"You passed out and nearly hit your head on the edge of the dinner table." Ronon countered as he glanced back to where Cole was standing in front of the large monitor, her arms folded over her chest.

He'd never seen her look so tired, or pale. Guilt tugged at him at the sight of the dark circles beneath her blue eyes, like bruises, attesting to a lack of sleep. He'd barely slept either in the past few days, and when he had, it had been restless. It was too much like the sleep he'd gotten when he'd been a Runner. Grace drew in a weary breath and released it slowly. "Ronon, you need to leave."

"I'm not going anywhere." Although he wanted to be gentle right now, always gentle with that precious heart that was far more tender than he'd ever known, the words came out tinged with frustration. "You're my-"

"If the next word out of your mouth is wife, I swear to God that I will get up out of this bed, knock you down, take one of those giant boots you're wearing and shove it so far up your ass that it comes out your mouth." Grace's voice wasn't any stronger, but her meaning was clear. Ronon blinked at her slowly and then pursed his lips and drew in a breath, caught between the urge to smile and the urge to shake sense into her.

He stood there, unmoving for long seconds. At last, her eyes flicked from the ceiling to land on him. "Ronon, please go. I'm fine."

He wanted to fight her, but the woman was stubborn, even more than him. At last Ronon sighed and held up his hands in a display of acquiescence. "Okay. But I'm coming by your quarters later to check on you." When she opened her mouth to protest, he shook his head. "That's my compromise. I'll see you later." He didn't even wait for the first word to pass her lips before he turned on heel and headed back to dinner. Everything in him screamed to stay, but to do so could only lead to more conflict. The only thing Ronon wanted was to resolve things and he wouldn't get very far. The situation required finesse. How long had it been since he'd had to worry about handling a personal relationship gently? Far too fucking long. Damn Grace Becque and those blue eyes that literally sparkled.

Grace waited until the door closed behind Ronon to push herself upright full on the gurney she occupied. The dizziness was gone, but the sense of disorientation lingered. Blindly, she reached for the spot on her arm that itched only to have her eyes land on the tube that led to an IV. Sluggishly, she stared up toward the bag of clear fluid that was flowing into the tube.

"It's just fluids. You're a little dehydrated." Cindy appeared, tablet in hand, offering her a smile. "You seriously need to lay off the coffee for a while, test results aside."

Grace frowned and nodded absently. "I guess I have been working some long hours lately. I forgot to eat today until dinner."

Cindy frowned at her as she glanced around the infirmary, then reached to hook a wheeled stool with her foot, pulling it closer. "I figured it was something like that. We do need to discuss your test results."

While they weren't close friends, Grace knew Cindy Cole well enough to understand the shift in her demeanor meant something was happening. Something important. Her stomach knotted in worry as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, sitting up a little straighter. "What's up?"

A cautious note entered Cole's voice as she edged closer. "There's no easy way to say it, so forgive me if I'm a little too straight-forward."

Those words made that ball of worry blossom into full-blown anxiety. "Just be blunt. What's going on? Has it gotten worse?"

Cole sighed and bowed her head, knowing exactly what Grace was referring to. "No. But you're pregnant."

Her breath caught in her throat and disbelief ripped through her. "Cindy, that's not funny." It was impossible. "You and Carson both made it clear to me that the chances of that happening was impossible."

"Actually the word I used was infinitesimal and Carson's choice improbable." Cindy shook her head. "The word we used doesn't matter at this point."

Grace inhaled sharply, her mind spinning. She lifted a hand and scrubbed at her face. "No. You're wrong, you have to be wrong. The danaz-"

Cole gave a firm shake of her head. "The danazol takes time to build up in your system. It takes one to two months to reach maximum efficacy. You didn't actually read the paperwork I gave you when you started the medication, did you?"

There was no disapproval in the other woman's voice. In fact, when Grace searched Cindy's face, she saw only concern. Her face flamed as she shook her head. "I joined an off-world team and I've been relatively pain free since I started taking it so I just... forgot." The words were lame even to her own ears. Even so, she could barely take a full breath as she struggled to fully comprehend what Cole was saying. "You said- I mean- Carson and you both- I just don't understand. This can't be happening. Maybe you should run the test again. Maybe you messed it up!" That had to be the answer. It was the only thing that made sense.

"I ran the blood test three times. And did the full body scan twice. The results were the same every single time." The doctor's words sent a wave of icy fear over her, along with a rising sense of panic.

Grace closed her eyes as she drew in a deep breath to calm herself. When she breathed out, she wasn't much calmer. "Shit."

Cole was quiet for a moment, letting her process the information. They were silent for several long minutes before Grace finally managed to focus on one of the questions that were bombarding her fogged brain. "Is it... um.. viable?"

The answer came in the form of a slow nod. "So far, yes. All the numbers look good. HCG levels are on target, fetal heart rate is within the normal range. All your labs look surprisingly good considering everything you have working against you."

Why did she just exhale an audible sound of relief. "I... I don't quite know how to take this." She said honestly as she stared at her past her socked feet and to where her boots sat neatly lined up just at the edge of the bed. "What now?"

"There's no sign of any damage so far because of it, but until you consider your options and decide on a course of action, I'd recommend stopping any and all medications, especially the Danazol." The matter-of-fact way that Cole spoke made the words all that much harder to process.

"Wait. Course of action?" It sank in the second she finished the last word. "Oh. You mean…" Again, for the thousandth time since the conversation had begun, she trailed off into silence, fighting for words. Finally, Grace shook her head. "I'm not going to…" She swallowed thickly and tried again. "I won't terminate. I can't. This is probably my only chance, isn't it?"

There was a moment of hesitation before Cindy sighed. "In all honesty, yes. You're already bordering on stage three. Pregnancy will ease symptoms, but once you've delivered, it's entirely possible your condition will progress to the point where you'll have no choice but to move forward with surgery. Pregnancy pauses, but doesn't cure, the progression. In all reality, Grace, it's most likely the pregnancy that's the reason for your pain levels being so much better, and not the Danazol."

"Do you think you could use the word pregnancy just one more time?" She quipped in a vain attempt at humor. "The fainting?"

"Not uncommon in the first trimester and you're measuring right at 11 weeks. It may or may not happen again, but as long as you stay hydrated and eat right, the chances are lowered. No more going all day without eating. It's not healthy even without an extra passenger on board." Cole finally broke into a smile. "I know this is a lot to take in. But things look really good considering the circumstances."

Grace swallowed hard, breathing out another sigh of relief. Her head was swimming. The words were processing, but it didn't seem real. It couldn't be real. And yet the doctor was still talking as if it were. Grace blinked, forcing her attention back on Cindy, making herself truly hear the words the other woman was speaking. "-prenatal vitamins every day, plenty of exercise and water." Well shit, she'd missed the speech.

Then, a moment later, something else belatedly registered. "Wait. Did you say eleven weeks? That's… so long."

"Conception most likely occurred at some point in early November. When was your last cycle?"

Grace drew in a deep breath, blinking slowly. "The day before Halloween." She only remembered because she'd spent the entirety of the Halloween party downing Zalenka's vodka and pretending to have a good time while she'd been in pain. Again. She was used to pretending to be fully functional while it felt like her insides were being shredded by dozens of tiny goblins with anger issues.

Cindy lifted the tablet she held and skimmed her fingers over it, entering the information. It was quiet for a few minutes as Cole typed away, only the sound of the soft clicking of the laptop keys as she entered something. One thought rang through her head as she stumbled her way through the list of questions and instructions that Cole began to ask her. She was fucked.