A familiar bellow catches my attention, and I have a split second to wonder who's in trouble this time before I hear my name. Great. I can't think of anything I've done off the top of my head that would have made the admiral angry, but that doesn't mean I haven't done something. I pass Tiner on my way toward Chegwidden's office, and he gives me an apologetic smile.

            "You heard, ma'am?"

            "I think everybody heard, Tiner. Any idea what I'm in for this time?"

            He shrugs. "No, ma'am."

            I sigh. "Well, ours is not to reason why," I inform him, heading off to face my irate boss.

            I knock on the door, and it's a long moment before I hear his annoyed 'Enter!'. That doesn't bode well for me. It means he's marshalling his arguments. I step inside and close the door behind me, coming to attention in front of his desk.

            "Have a seat," Chegwidden says, surprising me. Usually he likes to chew us out while we're standing at attention.

            "Major, do you know what this is about?" he asks as I perch carefully on the edge of a chair.

            Now I'm even more confused. "No, sir."

            He lets out the gusty, oh-lord-why-me sigh that he typically only uses when Harm's around. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me, Mac?"

            What's going on? "No, sir. I don't think so, sir." I rack my brain for anything I might have done that I haven't fessed up to, but nothing is forthcoming. After a moment I run through Harm's recent indiscretions as well, but I can't think of anything Chegwidden could pin on me.

            "Mac, are you..." He clears his throat. "Are there any...medical developments you'd like to share?"

            What the hell is he talking about? Now half afraid that he's received news I have a fatal illness or something, I shake my head uncertainly. "No, sir."

            He looks like he's thinking about hitting something. "Damn it, Mac, are you pregnant?"

            I snort and choke at the same time, making an interesting noise and temporarily losing the ability to inhale properly. It's a few moments before I can breathe again.

            "Of course not!"

            He gives me an inscrutable look. "Are you sure?"

            I return his look with one of my own. Not unless immaculate conception is back in style. "I don't know, sir," I reply, a little more snidely than I intend to. "Is it Christmas?"

            I clap my hand over my mouth a split second after that comment escapes, but he hears it and stifles a laugh.

            "No, Major, I'm happy to say it's not." He's still trying not to laugh, and I resist the urge to crawl into a hole and hide. I can't believe I just told the admiral I'm not getting any.

            "Sir, if I may ask, what inspired this particular line of questioning?" It's definitely time to change the subject.

            "Several of your co-workers came to me expressing...concerns. I decided to investigate their veracity for myself."

            My co-workers? Suddenly my mind latches onto that conversation in the break room last week...

            "Harm," I mutter, and Chegwidden hears me.

            "Actually, Commander Rabb wasn't among them."

            I shake my head. "No, sir. He was...joking...about it last week. Someone must have overheard and gotten the wrong idea."

            Chegwidden looks almost relieved. "I knew this was his fault, one way or another."

            My face turns crimson when the implications of that statement sink in. Thankfully, the admiral is busy re-seating himself at his desk and doesn't see.

            "In the future, try and make sure the commander screens the contents of his comments. I'm sorry about all this."

            "It's not a problem, sir," I reply. Harm is a dead man. Our kids are going to grow up fatherless.

            "Dismissed."