AN: Not much to say here except you guys kill me with the comments (in a good way)! And the scroll bar, -------> check . it. out. Hehehehe.

Not the Daddy…part 21

Pregnancy Clock: 7 months

Sheppard ducked into a transportation device, and with life signs detector out, selected the level for the infirmary. He'd gotten Dreya situated in a room down deep where the infiltrators were not likely to go, at least anytime soon. He thought back to the moment when he'd left her.

"Is it safe?" she'd asked. Her hands had gone nervously to her stomach, their stomach.

Because he felt its size even as his mind tried to understand why his hand never felt skin protruding from his belly. It was – disconcerting.

"You'll be safe." There was so much he needed to say. "Dreya - " If something happened to him, she'd be left without recourse. He couldn't even tell her to find someone in the city, because the situation was unknown.

She was waiting for him to finish, and though he could tell she was afraid, she was also standing tall, and not giving in to the fear.

"I'll be back," he finally said with a forced smile.

She'd nodded, knowing that there was a chance he wouldn't, but she didn't say it. Instead, she'd reached for his arm, and touched, the small contact conveying her thoughts.

He'd nodded, and left.

Sheppard's first stop was the infirmary. He'd overheard some disturbing references on the radio, before contact had been cut-off. It almost sounded like Lorne was involved in the take-over, and since that didn't make any sense at all, he had to believe that Lorne was under an alien influence.

Which meant, he needed Beckett.

As Sheppard left the transporter room, he read the LSD to search for potential hostiles ahead. It came up empty, except for the infirmary, and that was bad, because the infirmary was lit up like a Christmas tree. Damn.

Maybe Beckett had rounded up loose personnel and smuggled them in, before McKay had locked down the city? The good news, was by McKay doing that one action, he'd made it possible for Sheppard to come out ahead in this. The infiltrators would be unable to maneuver freely.

John approached the double doors, and tried to stare through the frosted glass, but he couldn't even make out blurry shapes. Which meant, the people inside were staying out of sight.

Making a decision, Sheppard ordered the city to release the door with a quick thought. As the doors opened, he hefted his P90, and waited to the side. He called out, deciding not to use a flash bang, because he had a hunch the life signs in there were not hostiles.

"Doc? You in there?"

Time ticked away.

"Colonel!" Beckett shouted back. "What the bloody hell is going on?"

Now to test for anything off – "Are you alone?"

There was a metallic clink, and a curse before Beckett replied loudly. "Of course I'm not alone, I've got half of the bloody city in here! Alarms started wailing, and people came here, and then the bloody doors locked us in. I can't get anyone on the radio -"

Sheppard grimaced over the number of times Carson used bloody. The Scot was a little bit upset.

But it'd still be easy for this to be a set-up, so he gave a final test. "Doc, riddle me this, why am I stuck in the city and off missions?"

"Because you're bloody pregnant, Lad, now would someone tell me what the -"

Yep, that was Carson all right. Sheppard spun off the wall, and into the infirmary, still weapon ready, but more relaxed.

Beckett was standing in front of a row of white-coated scientists, and off to the side were nurses trying to mollify the few patients that had been in the infirmary. Before Sheppard explained, he verified that every life sign matched up to a body, and that there were no extras. Everything came up daisies.

"So, Doc, we've got a problem," he said, finally getting back to Carson. "And I'm not pregnant."

Beckett was relieved enough to see him that he didn't insist on Sheppard's pregnant or not pregnant status. "Colonel, please don't tell me this is another take-over attempt? Because the last one was bad enough."

Carson unconsciously rubbed his face where Sora had decked him good.

"I wish I could, Doc, but it looks like it is."

Sheppard quickly brought the personnel in the room up to date with what he'd overheard. "So, hate to put you in the thick of it, but I'm gonna need your medical expertise."

One of the scientists stepped forward. "Have you been able to re-establish any kind of radio contact with the gate room?"

"It's been dead since McKay locked down the city." Sheppard could only hope that McKay wasn't dead as well. He'd be lying if he said the thought hadn't more than crossed his mind.

"I could try to rig an eavesdropping channel," the scientist offered. "If you can get me down to the labs."

"Done," said Sheppard. "Beckett, get enough sedatives to tranq the city."

They were going to re-take Atlantis, and if their own people were being influenced, they'd need a way to get them subdued without harm. That could be tricky, but he'd created an 'unofficial' armory on another remote spot in Atlantis, and he was the only one who knew about it. He'd stashed wraith stunners, tranquilizer guns, some P90's, grenades and flash bangs along with some armor, radios and plenty of ammunition.

He'd done it the week following the Genii attack.

Carson paused, about to say something, and Sheppard had a feeling it was something along the lines of 'you shouldn't be doing this', but then the seriousness of the situation reminded Beckett that there wasn't anyone else who could do it. Beckett headed for his medicine cabinet, and unlocked the door, rifled through some boxes before drawing a box smaller than John's Snoopy lunchbox had been when he was a kid and said, "This ought to do it."

"Let's go," he ordered, waving at the scientist to follow, the one that said he could rig some communications. "The rest of you stay put. If anyone tries to get in, you get ready to fight. If they are influencing our personnel, letting them get close to you could mean being affected so at all costs, keep a distance."

John wished he had time to do more, but if he failed, it wouldn't matter anyway. He ordered the doors to release again, watching the LSD for signs of anyone moving about, and the good news was that the LSD continued to remain blank except for their own signatures.

Sheppard put his back against the corridor wall, and waved for Beckett and the other guy to clear the door, before he sealed it behind them. As they headed for the transporter, John tried to imagine positive outcomes, because all he had was a slightly pregnant soldier – he thought that with a wince – and a medical doctor, along with a scientist. Yeah, those were the odds that curled your hair in places unseen.

"Colonel, how're holding up?" asked Beckett quietly.

"I'm fine, Doc," assured Sheppard. He didn't think this was the time to admit he was beginning to feel the tightening that he knew had preceded his little bout of preterm labor.

He'd been more than surprised to find that the symptoms had hit him hard, but by the time the medicines had worked in him, Dreya had only felt some mild contractions, and hardly knew anything was up. Because of it, Teyla and Ronon had a difficult time convincing her to return, but once she'd arrived and saw how serious events had become with him, she'd understood. Sheppard's body was the harbinger of complications. They manifested earlier and if treatment worked in him, it worked for her.

"Colonel?" asked Carson, noticing his distraction.

Sheppard shook off the worrisome thoughts. "It's nothing," he said. And if he didn't pull this off, it'd be nothing for a fact, because either they'd be killed, sent through the gate, or subdued like it appeared Lorne was.

It didn't take long to get to the lab the scientist asked for, and it took even less time to get in and assure the scientists that had been locked behind when the city had sealed everyone in, that the situation was being worked on.

Together, the one from the infirmary, and Sheppard wished he'd bothered to ask for a name, got together with the three that had been in the room, and started work on cracking the communications.

While they did that, Sheppard tried unsuccessfully to find a chair and sit. His groin was aching like he'd been kicked there, and since he knew he hadn't, he had to figure it was linked to Dreya. It was uncomfortable, and had him again cursing the whole fucked up situation. If any time he needed to be a hundred percent, it was now, and here he was, slinking into a chair trying to ease his prostate. God.

And here came Beckett – so much for stealth.

"Colonel?" he asked. "This is a bit more activity then I okayed in your discharge papers, how's the baby?"

The baby was fine. His groin – that was another matter. "Kicking up a storm," answered Sheppard wryly, because he was. Traitor had a habit of bad timing. Some of the kicks were hard enough to make him flinch.

"Good, and any contractions?" persisted Beckett.

Sheppard squirmed, because not only was Carson more observant than John wanted, or needed right now, but a couple of the scientists had turned their attention his way.

"Doc," hissed John, reaching for his shoulder and pulling Beckett close to him so they could talk without being overheard, "I appreciate the sentiment, but this isn't a good time."

"Colonel, there isn't any good time, but we can wait till you collapse on the floor if you want -"

How Beckett managed to be solicitous and confrontational all in one sentence was beyond Sheppard, but he did. Still – the scientists were listening to every word, and he couldn't allow them to see his weaknesses, and doubt his ability to get them out of this.

"I'm fine, and when this is all over, you can haul me down to the infirmary, and verify it, but for now I've got a city depending on me, and I don't need there to be any doubt in other people's eyes about my ability to carry out my job, clear?"

Beckett frowned, knowing there was more going on then John was admitting, but he nodded abruptly. "Crystal."

"Good, now, while they work on the communications, you and I have got a little side trip to take."

And as Sheppard clambered to his feet, he tried to hide the wince as the ache resettled in the exact same spot. Crap.

"Where are we going?" asked Beckett, suddenly alarmed for a whole new reason. "I'm a doctor, Colonel, not a soldier, and I don't think I'm much help wielding a weapon or watching your back – unless it's in a hospital gown."

"You watch my back when I'm in a hospital gown?" Sheppard asked, giving him a sideways look. He knew what Beckett meant, but he couldn't let the opportunity go to score a bit of fun at Carson's expense.

Cheekily, Carson didn't even pause, "Aye, and since I've seen a few, it's safe to say you could stand to gain a few pounds."

"Very funny, Doc."

But what wasn't funny was Beckett's expertise in handling weapons, yet that's what he had, and Sheppard would find a way to make the best of it. "You'll do. Good thing about these weapons are the wide dispersal," he said, hefting a stunner into Beckett's hand. "You'll do the damage you need if you can point and shoot. It's the weapon for the incompetent."

"I resent that," grouched Beckett. "Untrained does not equal incompetent."

"Does in my book," Sheppard muttered. Louder he said, "I'll handle the tranquilizer gun, but I'll need you to dose the darts with an amount that will keep them down long enough for us to secure any areas that have been overtaken. Can you do that?"

"I don't know, might be my incompetence -"

"Doc -"

Beckett sighed. "Yes, I can bloody well handle dosing darts, Colonel."

Having retrieved the weapons, it was time to head back and see if they'd patched into the comms. Beckett had four more stunners in his hands, and Sheppard had three tranq pistols, and one rifle, along with the P90 on his vest, and his 9 mil tucked in his holster.

The tightening in his abdominals grew to a crescendo that was only slightly low enough to avoid him wincing, and he tapped his ear piece. "Dreya, you okay?"

Her timid voice answered with forced courage, "I'm fine, John. Nobody's come down here. Will it be much longer?"

Sheppard didn't think so. Either way, the proverbial shit was going to hit the fan, and all he had (now) were four scientists, a doctor and one slightly pregnant soldier. If he were a gambling man, he'd give them odds of zero to none. Which meant, it didn't look good. But he didn't say any of that to Dreya, instead he offered her all he could, "Won't be long now, just stay where I put you. Sheppard out." He closed off the channel, and they were back at the lab.

He directed Atlantis to open, and found the scientists arguing heatedly over a blackened console, and a cracked crystal in the lone woman's hand. Miko, Sheppard remembered. He knew McKay complained that she seemed to worship the ground he walked on – but then again, Rodney tended to be self-centered, narcissistic –

"I might not be up to date with my Ancient tech, but that's not supposed to be cracked, and black - not a good color," said Sheppard, pointing at the crystal.

Miko shrugged. "Is no good. Broken. Ruined. We are, as Rodney says, screwed."

If she was quoting McKay, maybe she did have it bad for him.

"So, no eavesdropping on the bad guys?" He tried for light, but just then the ache in his groin, and a contraction double teamed, and almost drove him to his knees, so it came out more strangled and tight then he intended.

Lucky for him, Beckett had gone to one of the scientists who was cradling a burned hand and didn't see it.

The one scientist that he'd picked up in the infirmary was standing next to Miko, and looking extremely agitated, which for scientists wasn't saying much, because to Sheppard it seemed like that was their perpetual state, but anyway –

He started handing stunners to scientists, and to say the weapons were taken gingerly from him was like saying the sun was hot.

"Okay, listen up. This is a wraith stunner. I have reason to believe that our own people have been compromised, so, if you see it moving, shoot it. We're going to make our way to the gate room. When we get there, we're going disarm any hostiles, and regain control of the city."

Sheppard finished talking and realized they were all staring at him with varying degrees of 'you've got to be kidding me'. He regarded them for a moment and tried again, "Remember that guy Rambo? You get to play Rambo. Just – don't paint your faces red, and tie bloody bandannas on your head or anywhere else, got it?"

A couple of faces switched up to a little excitement, while Miko remained uncertain and the other guy looked like he wished he could pass out and get it over with. The one guy he couldn't do much for, but Miko –

"We're gonna rescue Doctor McKay," he added. And others…

Now the light went on for Miko.

She got her stunner in a two handed hold that would've done Conan proud and bullied to the front. "What we wait for?"

Thatta girl, thought Sheppard. And then his belly whinged at him – loudly. That one was a bit intense. He knew he was having labor contractions, and he knew it was still too early.

"Sorry, Traitor, daddy's got to take care of the already living before I can worry about the ones not here yet," he whispered.

He'd turned towards the door, and didn't figure anyone had heard him, and oddly enough, talking to Traitor made him feel better. He intentionally ignored the slip in calling himself 'daddy'. They left the lab, Beckett had moved up towards him, and John had the LSD out and scanning. So far, so good. When he got a chance, he'd have to tell McKay good job on locking the city down. This would've been a lot harder had everyone been loose in the city, not knowing who was friend or foe.

It didn't take them long to get to one of the upper level doors leading into the gateroom. Sheppard paused, and swept each scientist and Beckett with an assessing glance. They didn't look ready, nor very confidant, but this was it. They were what he had, and they'd have to do.

"I'm not one for speeches," he admitted. "But you all know what we've got to do, and you all know what's depending on it. Remember, if it moves, shoot it. If it doesn't move, shoot it anyway. Are we good?"

Beckett repeated, "If it moves shoot it, if it doesn't move, shoot it anyway – aye, I can do that."

The other four didn't look so convinced, but none of them had fallen out yet.

"On three – one, two, three -"

Sheppard ordered Atlantis to open the door, and she did. They rushed into the room, and spread out in the directions Sheppard pointed. The first encounter was one of theirs. Miko took the guy out before he had a chance to blink in surprise at their arrival.

He would've said good job, but just then he was trying hard to fight through another contraction.

That one stopped him, and Beckett didn't miss it this time.

"The baby?" he asked softly, while the others were waiting for Sheppard to straighten.

"I'm okay," insisted Sheppard. The contraction over, he straightened and began to walk forward, but the hand on his arm held him back. He looked from the hand to the man.

"Don't, Colonel. Don't lie to me."

John knew Beckett deserved better, but he didn't know what good knowing would do right now other than make him worry, and worrying took attention off of where it needed to be, and that was the targets in the room.

"I don't mean to," he said. "But we've got other problems."

Beckett wanted to argue, but John saw that the doctor at least accepted the truth for what it was. Irrefutable. "When this is over -"

"Doc, if we're still around when this is over, you won't hear an argument from me."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Beckett asked worriedly.

"No, not really," he answered honestly. He stepped past the doc, and waved at the scientists to split into two groups. Two to the right side of the gateroom, and two to the other. Beckett took the right group, John took the left.

As Sheppard led them around the corner, and spun into the room, the tranq gun came up, and he aimed at the first person he saw, which happened to be Rodney McKay, who was holding a pistol on not only five individuals garbed in uniforms he didn't recognize, but also Elizabeth, Lorne and Markham along with some of the gate techs that had been on duty.

"McKay," he said evenly.

"Thank god, I was beginning to think I'd be standing here till I grew older than the wraith would even eat."

Sheppard narrowed his eyes. The sarcasm fit McKay, but that didn't explain why he had everyone at the wrong end of a gun. "What's going on, Rodney?"

"Super soldier here," he waved the gun in Lorne's direction, "came through the gate escorting these – individuals – and then started doing an imitation of a psychotic turn coat and shooting up the gateroom, telling us to surrender, grabbing hostages -"

So, he'd heard that part right then. Lorne and Markham were compromised. Miko and the other scientist stood by his side, stunners leveled at the group. But that still didn't explain how McKay, who while intelligent, but with the defensive skills of a potato bug, managed to disarm everyone and gain control.

Making his mind up, Sheppard raised the gun and said, "Sorry, Rodney," and fired.

McKay barely had time to register shock on his face, and then the other group with Beckett converged behind the intruders and their own personnel, and the mass firing began.

In seconds it was over, and the unconscious people littered the floor. Elizabeth, Rodney, Lorne, Markham, three gate techs, and the five individuals he knew had come through the gate, apparently controlling Lorne and Markham. Where that left Teyla and Ronon, he didn't want to think about.

Another strong contraction began to twist his gut, and the wrenching pain increased harder, till he thought he would cry out from it, before finally easing. Taking a few hard breaths, he tapped the ear piece, watching as Beckett moved to check Elizabeth.

"Dreya, you all right?"

She answered immediately. "I'm fine, is it okay now?"

"No contractions?" he asked. If she hadn't started with symptoms yet, there was probably still time.

"None – John, are you having some again?" She sounded nervous.

Sheppard supposed he could understand. Her baby was at risk, and the longer it took for him to get treatment, and get this stopped, the more likely she would begin full blow labor and it'd be too late.

"A little, but it's okay. Just – hold tight, someone will be down to get you soon."

By the time he'd shut the channel, he was kneeling by McKay, and examining him. If the agent were a narcotic, or some kind of chemical influence, there wouldn't be any outward evidence. But, as he looked at Rodney, his eyes caught a metallic disc on the side of McKay's neck, just above the collar.

"Doc, look at this!" he called.

Beckett jogged over, and knelt down beside Sheppard. He nodded at the discovery. "I found one on Elizabeth also." He prodded it with a gloved hand, and ran a finger over the surface. "Looks almost like a device similar to what the Tok'ra use, these memory devices, but this obviously does more than make pretty pictures from past events."

"The Gou'ald?" John didn't know much about them, but he did know they weren't supposed to be in the Pegasus galaxy.

"The Gou'ald were parasites, Colonel, they leeched technology from others in the galaxy, the Ancients mostly. It seems to follow that the memory devices weren't their invention. If it were the Ancients, that begs the question, where did these blokes get a hold of them?" Carson gestured at the now stunned intruders. "Let's hope popping these off our people solves the problem."

Sheppard headed to the consoles, and unlocked the city. The infiltrators hadn't gotten out of the gateroom, and apparently hadn't the time to do more than capture the expedition members and stick the devices on them. If he'd been much slower to respond, he knew the outcome would've been a lot worse, but even still they were going to need to check everyone for a device.

He paged a security detail, and found himself folding into a chair. His groin felt like a hundred weight was pressing down, and he felt the tell-tale tightening of another contraction starting, this one hurting more than the one before.

Beckett was there, and then the security detail. Sheppard waved off Beckett, and steadied himself as the contraction ended, before moving on to inspect the men. All clear. And that was good, because now he knew his time was running short.

"Set up operations from the gateroom. All personnel will be checked and cleared for the control devices that were implanted on our people. Anyone unaccounted for needs to be located ASAP. Clear military personnel first. I want four man teams, armed with stunners and tranqs sweeping the halls at all time. Radio contact maintained -"

Another contraction began, "And someone go to level D, on the north pier, room 402, subsection C, and retrieve Dreya, now!" he gasped out the last part of the order because of the pain.

No longer attempting to hide how serious it was, he folded over and rocked, trying to find some way of coping with it. A good description would be someone sticking a knife into your intestines, and then slowly twisting them up around, like spaghetti on a fork.

"All right, Colonel, you've done your job, now let me do mine," Carson said gently, rubbing Sheppard's back, "just breathe, Son, not much more and this one will be over."

It seemed as if it went on forever, but John knew time was relative when a lot of pain was involved. His muscles slowly relaxed and he straightened, trying to act stronger than he felt for the others in the room that tended to keep glancing his way. "As long as it involves heavy duty painkillers, feel free," joked Sheppard lightly.

"A little of this, a little of that, and we'll have you squared away in no time."

Beckett helped him to his feet, and John wished for once he had a gurney to ride on, because the pain down below was not helped by gravity. "In fact, feel free to knock me out, Doc – for a long, long time." About twelve more weeks ought to do it, he thought irritably.

And on that thought, Traitor gave him a swift kick. John rubbed the spot and followed Beckett. "To the drugs," he muttered.

OoO

The next twenty-four hours did pass in a drug-induced haze, and Sheppard was vaguely aware of hard contractions, lots of pain, and feeling very hot. When he rejoined the land of the verbally coherent, it was to find Rodney McKay guarding his bedside, looking every bit the vigilant gargoyle of legends.

"What happened to you, McKay?" John asked roughly.

Rodney's head popped up from where it was draped on his chest. He blinked rapidly, and Sheppard could see the mental gears snapping into action.

Surprise was replaced by relief, then followed by irritability, and self-righteous anger tagged along. "You shot me!"

"You were being controlled by hostiles!" defended Sheppard. "Did you really think I'd believe that you subdued everybody?"

"For the record, Sheppard, the device didn't work on me, and when I saw you making your way in on the sensors, I made up a quick plan that would help. They thought I was under their control, and went along with it, and then you go and shoot me!"

John rubbed a spot on his abdomen that felt like Traitor's leg, and tried to look apologetic. He shrugged, "Sorry."

McKay's face betrayed his thoughts on that. Complete and total disbelief. "No, you're not."

"No, I'm not."

Sheppard looked around, suddenly wondering what had happened since he'd gotten settled and drugged. "Teyla and Ronon?"

McKay thumbed at some beds to Sheppard's left. "They'd been knocked out and left behind. When they came to, they dialed back, by then you'd already taken out the intruders, gate was open, and Beckett's been babying them since you've been too unconscious to appreciate his skills."

"That's good."

"I suppose, if you want to hear them back there whispering constantly," McKay leaned forward and lowered his voice, "Do you think there's anything going on, because the two of them, they're kind of-" he intertwined his two fingers and tugged, "- you know."

"No, Rodney, I don't know, why don't you explain it to me," Sheppard said sarcastically. "What about Dreya, and Elizabeth? Everyone cleared?"

"Yes, yes – everyone's fine, you did your best impression of Mission Impossible, or maybe a better term would be 'Revenge of the Nerds', I swear, Miko couldn't stop talking about how exciting it was to shoot people. Dreya's sleeping, by the time Carson got your labor stopped – which is a story I'll tell you in a minute, she was having some pain and he doped her before sending her off to bed. She left this morning -"

John sat up too quickly, and felt the pain his belly for it. "Left!" he exclaimed.

"To her room here, calm down. Anyway, she only dilated two centimeters, so Beckett has her on bed rest to keep it from starting up again."

That had scared him. Oddly enough, it was comforting knowing she was here. It wasn't so much her, as it was Traitor. Having the baby nearby was…comforting.

"The prisoners?" Sheppard wanted to get his hands on them and find out who they were, and where they'd come from.

"Locked up, in more ways than one." Rodney pulled one of the devices from his pocket. "These were on them, also, which suggests -"

"That someone else was controlling them," finished Sheppard.

"Good to see you haven't developed that thing called pregnancy brain."

John threw his pillow at McKay.

"I'll be kicking you out, Rodney, if you keep getting my patients riled up," scolded Carson, moving their way at hearing the commotion. He picked up the pillow before McKay could, and slid it under Sheppard, who rightly enough, grinned wolfishly at Rodney. "How're you feeling, Colonel? Any contractions since you woke?"

Traitor kicked impatiently, and John rubbed whatever part was poking him. "None, what was that stuff you gave me?" What he could remember was pretty weird. He'd felt out of it, and not from pain medication out of it.

"Magnesium sulfate, the big guns of stopping premature labor," explained Beckett. "It'll make you feel wretched, but it does the job. I had to give Dreya some Terbutaline this time, and put her on bed rest. This baby is anxious to get out, but it's still a bit too early for my liking."

"When is it safe?" If Traitor was determined to come early, a fact he now found himself very bothered by, he wanted to know the magic number to shoot for.

"Preferably, not till the thirty-sixth week and on, but if the little lass, or lad, insists – I'd like to hit at least thirty-two weeks."

"And guess what that means," crowed Rodney.

Sheppard fixed McKay with a dirty look, because if it made McKay happy, he couldn't imagine it'd make him happy. "I don't know, why don't you tell me?" Like he wouldn't do it anyway. And enjoy every moment of it.

"Bed rest, Colonel. And yours truly has volunteered to be 'mother's little helper'."

If it'd been possible for him to drop to lower depths, he hadn't known it till now. But he wasn't going to give the man the satisfaction. "Great," he deadpanned.

Beckett's lips twitched, yet he tried to pretend he was innocent. "Sorry, Colonel. My staff is overwhelmed as it is. I'm sure Rodney will be very…helpful."

Sheppard had to fight hard not to show just how much he believed that McKay would be helpful. Helpful to the point of smothering. He'd have more milk, and vitamins, and bed rest then he'd know what to do with before this was over.

"How long?" he asked, not quite hiding his misery.

"A couple weeks, if everything stays good, then we'll let you up and about, and see how your body reacts – now, about those kick counts…"

TBC