A/N: I'm sorry this is a little late, but I've had a mild case of writer's block. I think the expectations of McKay's reaction had me a little nervous about this chapter, so I had to wrestle a few bunnies to the ground to make them stick around. Hopefully their friends will come join them soon…

oOo

"Are you pregnant or something?"

At my surprised gasp, a rather large chunk of pickle decided to get lodged in my throat. As I sat there choking, I could feel my face getting red and my eyes tearing up, but the only thing I could think of was, "I wonder how much longer I can go without air? Because having a giant pickle stuck in my throat is a lot more comfortable than the conversation I'm about to have."

McKay stared at me for a few seconds in panic, before getting up and rushing around the table to stand behind me and give me a couple good whacks on the back. If I wasn't too busy struggling to breathe, I'd give him a couple good whacks of my own.

Finally, I managed to cough up that traitorous pickle chunk, and it landed on my plate with a soggy flop. My appetite was suddenly gone again, and I could tell from McKay's face that he had no plans on continuing his meal. He sat down next to me, rubbing my back gently where he had been thumping it before, and breathing hard as if he had been the one suffering from oxygen deprivation.

I rubbed my throat and raised an eyebrow in his direction.

He let his hand slide off my back with a sheepish look. "Well, uh…I guess that's a yes, then?"

I quickly gathered up my things and stood. "No offense, McKay, but I just can't do this with you right now." I beat a hasty retreat, but I should have known Rodney would be right on my heels. The man is more stubborn than…well…me.

"Cadman, wait!" He stopped me just outside the doors to the mess, a confused grin on his face. "This is a good thing, isn't it? Carson will make a great father."

For a moment, I continued to stand there, my arms sullenly crossed over my stomach. I briefly considered letting McKay go on thinking that it's Carson's baby, because that would make this all so much easier. But keeping something this big a secret just isn't fair to Rodney, and even if he hates it, I decided he needed to hear it. I looked at the floor and mumbled out, "Carson's not the father. You are."

Rodney stared at me for so long I decided to count his blinks to pass the time. Six blinks…seven…finally at eight blinks, Rodney burst into hysterical laughter. Okay, I was expecting a bit of a freak out, but this exceeds even my expectations. Still sputtering with laughter, Rodney eventually chokes out, "That's…that's great. You almost…almost had me there…" He put a hand on my shoulder for support as he doubled over in another fit of hysterical giggles. And by the way, Rodney giggling? Probably one of the scariest sights I've ever seen. I, however, am about as far from amused as you can get. "Seriously…seriously, though…congratulations…you and Carson should—" Rodney's laughter was abruptly cut short when I grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm behind him, slamming him face-first into the wall. "Ow! What the hell?"

"This is not a joke Rodney," I said, my voice calm. "Now, you've put me through quite a lot today—"

"Me?" he asked, indignant.

I continued as if I hadn't heard him. "—and I know you have absolutely no desire to be involved in this baby stuff, so—"

"Cadman!" he spits heatedly, his voice muffled slightly by the wall. "I always thought you were insane, but this just proves it! There is no way, I repeat, NO WAY that I could have gotten you pregnant!"

I turned him around to face me, but I kept him pinned to the wall. Keeping my eyes locked on his, I used his gene to make the light above his head flicker and opened and closed the mess hall doors. As I watched his face, I could see comprehension dawn. "Oh…crap." I just raised one eyebrow in response. My sentiments exactly. Suddenly, I could see the panic and fear grab hold of his mind, and then I was caught in the full force of the patented McKay Freak Out™. He began hyperventilating, interspersed with the occasional incoherent mumbling. His eyes glossed over and began darting around the hallway, unseeing, and his knees gave out as he slowly slid to the floor with a soft thud.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at his behavior. I mean, sure, I had the same basic reaction to the news, but coming from McKay the whole thing seemed so much more…melodramatic. "Look, Rodney," I tried to sound soothing, but I think I sounded more annoyed than anything, "I know this is a lot of information to throw at you right now, but it's really not that big a deal."

Rodney stopped taking his pulse rate and mumbling about low blood sugar to glare at me, incredulous. "It's not?" I'm fairly certain he didn't mean for his voice to raise an octave at the last word.

"Okay, well, maybe it is kind of a big deal," I backpedaled. "But it's not anything you have to worry about, because…because…um, are you supposed to be turning purple?" The only response I got from Rodney was more hyperventilation with the occasional wheezy sentence I couldn't make out, and that's when I started to panic a little bit too. "Okay, um, Rodney, just breathe, okay?" I looked around frantically for anything that might help him out, and I spied a lieutenant coming out of the mess hall with the brown bag special. Never before had I been so happy that somebody on the cooking staff had suggested peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as an alternative to some of the more…creative fare that the mess usually offered.

I ran to the lieutenant and snatched the bag right out of his hand. He yelled out a protest, but I just called back over my shoulder, "Mine now! Deal with it!" in a sing-song voice. When I reached Rodney's side, I unceremoniously dumped out the contents and offered McKay the empty bag. He immediately began breathing into it as I coached him along. "That's good. Deep, even breaths…" Rodney shot me a glare that could melt the entire continent of Antarctica. "Er, right, sorry. Done this before, haven't you?" The thunderous glare turned into an eye roll, and I settled in next to Rodney, both our backs to the wall. After a few minutes, I was fairly certain that Rodney didn't need the bag anymore, but was still using it for effect. What a drama queen!

"Listen, Rodney," I began, "I know you didn't exactly plan this…well, neither did I for that matter, but…Look, what I'm trying to say is that if you don't want to have anything to do with the baby, then I don't expect you—"

Rodney let out a muffled exclamation into his paper bag that I'm reasonably certain was a "What?" He took the bag off of his face and continued talking. "Don't be stupid! Of course I want to be involved!"

I frowned at him and narrowed my eyes. What was this, selective amnesia? "Rodney, in case you've forgotten, you just said—"

"I know what I said!" he interrupted, irritated. "But that was before, this is now." His hands gestured emphatically to demonstrate the "before" and "now" of that statement. Thanks, Rodney, I needed a visual aid to understand how time passed!

To say I was skeptical of his intentions may have been the understatement of the century. "Rodney, five minutes ago you didn't want—"

"Five minutes ago I didn't have a kid!" He paused, "Okay, well, I guess technically I did, but I just didn't…" He trailed off and closed his eyes, trying to regain his focus. "Look, that's not the point! The point is, I want to be involved now. And you're just going to have to accept that."

I looked at him for a long time, but he didn't look at me. Finally, I said slowly, "Okay."

"Okay," he nodded forcefully, apparently feeling like he'd won some sort of argument. I just smiled and shook my head. The surprises just kept on coming.

After a few moments of pleasant silence, I felt Rodney's eyes on me, and I turned to face him. His eyes were wide, and he still looked terrified, but somehow this was a different sort of terrified. I can't explain it, but it almost felt like a good kind of terrified. Looking down at where my hands rested on my stomach, he held a hand out and asked, "Can I…?"

Understanding his question, I nodded and took my hands off of my stomach, then felt his warm hand gently rest where my hands had been a moment before. I watched his face the entire time, but he never took his eyes off of where his hand rested. After a moment, a hint of a wistful smile touched his face, and I felt my own face light up in a brilliant smile of my own. This must be what people mean when they say pregnant women "glow."

Abruptly, Rodney's expression became wide-eyed and panicky again. I was about to reach for the bag when Rodney looked up at me and asked with more awe than I thought his voice could possess, "What are we going to name it?"

I burst out laughing then and placed my own hand over Rodney's, squeezing it affectionately. "Rodney," I said past my giggles, "we can name it later."

oOo

Author's notes: Okay, there's Rodney's reaction. I hope I did the story in my head justice, but I just don't know that I'm satisfied with this. Hopefully my writer's block will be lifted shortly, and I'll be able to continue this soon.