A/N: Gah! Okay, so I failed in the "lack of angst" department, but that's only because I did a little rearranging of the timeline and combined two chapters, so an angsty chapter I was planning for later made its appearance early. I just felt it needed to happen now, instead of later, because there are things I want to do later that I can't do now unless what was supposed to happen later happens now…if that makes any sense…

On the plus side, this is a looong chapter, and the angst is mostly over and done with after this chapter. I have 4 hilarious (well, to me anyways) chapters left to go. Seriously, stick around for the penultimate (Go GRE vocab list!) chapter, which has been stuck in my mind since I gave this little plot bunny a home. It's the reason I wanted to write this fic. :D On that note, I would like to thank the folks who have stuck with me through my extended hiatus last month. I think I lost a few of my regular readers, but I'm happy that the rest of you still find me entertaining enough to continue. ;) You guys rock! Hopefully you'll forgive me for the moments of "but, but, huh?" that I'll be putting the characters through in this chapter, and please excuse the blatant rip off of When Harry Met Sally at the end.

oOo

From my position on the examination table in the infirmary, I exclaimed snappily, "Are you calling me FAT!"

I was partially into my second trimester, and had already progressed beyond the stage where I could hide my growing bulge beneath baggy clothes. That was when Rodney miraculously got his hands on a maternity catalogue, and I realized McKay had manifested his control-freak tendencies in truly bizarre and horrifying ways. Insanity was a common side effect of living in the Pegasus Galaxy, but this was taking it a little too far…

Desperately trying to look at anything but my stomach, he fidgeted and hedged, "What? No, I just…uh…" Like most men, Rodney had no clue how to dig himself out of the 10 foot deep hole he had landed in, and really, there was nothing scarier than an angry pregnant woman. "That is, I mean…" he continued to stammer, wide-eyed, and I snatched the catalogue out of his hands with a flourish. The woman on the cover had a belly the size of beach ball and was covered head to toe in pink, frilly ruffles. I hate ruffles.

"You cannot honestly expect me to go traipsing around Atlantis in this get-up." I flipped through the catalogue heatedly. Geez, was there some unwritten rule that pregnant women were not allowed to wear anything besides flowy ruffles? Stopping at a particularly hideous ensemble, I shoved the open magazine in Rodney's face. "I think these ruffles would get in my way on patrols. Not to mention I'd never be able to accessorize properly. I doubt they make pink P-90s."

McKay sourly ignored my sarcasm. "I like pink," he mumbled petulantly.

"Then you wear it!" I hurled the magazine in his general direction.

Rodney fumed, letting out a frustrated huff and pointing emphatically at my slightly, (slightly, damn it!) pronounced abdomen. "Look, like it or not, that stomach of yours is not getting any smaller. And unless you want to start taking after my Uncle Merle and walk around with your giant beer belly hanging out between your shirt and pants, you're going to get some maternity clothes!" At my pointed look and raised eyebrow, he spat, "What?" Clearly confused, but still angry.

I tried so hard to keep the amusement out of my voice. "Uncle Merle?" I asked, unable to keep my lips from twitching dangerously close to a smile.

Rodney looked absolutely horrified that he had given me more ammunition in the interminable War of the Baby Names. "No, no, no. We are not using that!"

"Och," Carson tutted, wheeling in the ultrasound equipment. "Would the two of you please give it a rest? If this keeps up, I pity your child. It'll end up with a name like Willard Zusia Cadman-McKay, or something equally as dreadful." My eyes met Rodney's with a twinkle of delight, and before McKay could protest that name too, Carson jumped in. "How are ye feeling, lass?"

"Pretty good, I suppose," I shrugged, trying to cram down my rising excitement. In a few minutes, I'd actually get to see my baby! Sure, it would be through a screen so fuzzy it looked like we were trying to get bootlegged cable all the way from Earth, but the thrill was still there. Unfortunately, the combination of impatience and the previous 4 glasses of water were wreaking havoc on my bladder. Carson insisted a full bladder was necessary for orientation of the ultrasound, but at that moment all I could think about was my growing appreciation for the saying "so excited I wet myself."

"Well, just lie back, and we'll get you all squared away in a moment." Carson smiled sweetly, and helped the obstetric nurse get everything set up. It seemed like Carson was taking an eternity to fiddle with the equipment, focused on cords and connections, and my anticipation grew exponentially. I had no idea what I'd be seeing, but my mind kept flickering between images of a perfectly healthy little baby, or the absolutely terrifying thought that Carson might find something wrong. I unconsciously reached for Rodney's hand in reassurance, but caught myself at the last second. Instead, I wiped my sweaty palms on the papery sheets of the exam table.

With a nod from the nurse, Carson turned to face us, an expectant look on his face. "We're all set. Are you ready?" I bit back the sarcastic reply already forming in my mind and simply nodded. "Alright, this is going to feel a bit chilly," he said as he squeezed a little gel onto my exposed abdomen, and I hissed as the cold fluid caused my stomach to break out in goosebumps. Pressing the wand firmly on my belly (and didn't my bladder just love that!) Carson flipped the switch, and I held my breath.

After a moment, the screen blipped to life in all its hazy, black and white glory. Carson began moving the wand around on my belly, and the image on the screen shifted, but it still looked like a bunch of black and white blobs to me. Carson found the large white blob that he claimed was my bladder, moved around a bit more, and suddenly the shadowy blobs took shape. I let out an audible gasp and abruptly felt Rodney's hand grab mine. There, on the screen, was the very distinct profile of a baby curled into a fetal position. And it was inside me!

Carson turned and gave me a dazzling smile that I'm sure matched my own. "Your baby looks quite healthy to me. And right on track with its development," he announce proudly. I felt Rodney squeeze my hand, and I returned the gesture, my gaze not leaving the screen. Carson's eyes briefly flicked to our entwined hands before turning back to the screen.

"You can quite clearly see its head and shoulders, there," he pointed to the screen, "And let me see if I can…ah, yes!" he said, pointing to the screen, where a little tiny blob in the baby's chest was shrinking and expanding rapidly. He grabbed another instrument and laid it alongside the receiver, then pressed a few buttons. Suddenly the room was filled with a very familiar sound, and I knew what it was before Carson even said it. "That's your baby's heartbeat."

I felt the moisture well up behind my eyes, and I didn't even try to stop the blissful laugh that bubbled from my chest as I met Rodney's eyes. I'd never seen him look so happy, and I knew that look was reflected in my eyes as well. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as we gazed at each other in silence, hands locked, listening to our baby's heartbeat for the first time.

Carson suddenly moved the wand, and there was a brief interruption before the heartbeat resumed. "Huh," he mumbled, before moving it back with the same result. He did it again, and he and the nurse exchanged a look of puzzlement.

Rodney immediately grabbed my hand tighter and asked in a panicked voice, "What? Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all," Carson quickly soothed. "It's just…When I move the transducer to this location," he moved the wand, "I get a second heartbeat."

"What does that mean? Is it bad?" I asked, matching Rodney panic for panic.

"No, nothing like that, but it is…interesting," he said with a sly smile, enjoying the suspense. "Laura…it appears you're having twins."

The next thing I knew, Rodney's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed in a heap to the floor.

oOo

A low moan from the next bed alerted me that McKay was drifting back towards the land of the living. I quickly dog-eared my current page in the maternity catalogue and stashed it under the mattress. I wasn't stupid, I knew I'd need new clothes sooner or later, and McKay's fashion sense not withstanding, there were actually some cute outfits in there. Not that I'd ever admit that to him, though.

Rodney's eyes fluttered open. "Typical, McKay. You always gotta steal my spotlight. It's not always about you, ya know," I greeted.

His fuzzy brain struggled to catch up with his body as he returned to consciousness. "Huh…Wha—?"

"You fainted," I responded cheerfully.

"Passed out," he corrected groggily, then seemed to suddenly become aware of his surroundings. In a mildly alarmed voice, he said, "I guess it would be too much to hope that the last thing I heard before I…" he made a vague gesture with his hands.

"Fainted?" I supplied, grinning smugly.

"Whatever," he replied defensively. "I guess that wasn't just some unconscious delusion brought on by hypoglycemic shock?" His voice sounded so hopeful I couldn't help but smile dotingly.

Carson chose that moment to join us. "Sadly, Rodney, we were all witness to your latest dramatic episode. I'm afraid you really are getting two wee babes for the price of one," he added blithely.

"Right, that's…that's good." Rodney sounded like he was trying very hard to come to grips with this newest bombshell without hyperventilating. Glancing in my direction, he added, "Well, I guess that explains why you're so—"

"Well developed," Carson cut in hastily, making what he thought was a covert shushing motion to Rodney. I just raised an eyebrow in response. I swear, one more comment about the size of my stomach, and I was going to deck someone.

"Er, right…Sorry, this is just…It's a lot to take in," Rodney stuttered, still in wide-eyed shock.

Carson just looked amused. "Well, if you think you can't make it back to your quarters, I could always keep you overnight," he offered helpfully, knowing exactly the type of response he'd get.

Rodney shot out of the bed like a canon, swaying slightly. "No, no, I think I'm okay. I'll just be…going…now…" He stumbled his way out of the infirmary, beating a swift, if slightly wobbly retreat to his quarters.

Rolling my eyes, I got out of my bed as well. "I'll make sure he gets back okay," I offered.

Carson nodded, then grabbed my arm lightly before I could leave. "Laura…" He paused, and he was obviously working to keep his tone light and casual. "Are we still on for dinner tonight?" I nodded, but he certainly didn't look pleased at the concept. "Would you mind having it in my quarters tonight, instead of the mess?" I nodded again, cagily this time, unsure what Carson was up to. "Alright. I'll see you then." He hesitated a moment, then leaned over and kissed my cheek tenderly. It suddenly felt like he hadn't done that in a long time, and I missed it. With a final pat to my shoulder, he headed back to his office and I wandered after Rodney, puzzled by the sudden change of plans.

oOo

I was distracted the rest of the day. My mind had been busy wondering why Carson had changed our dinner date. We'd never been to each other's quarters, and while that felt a little depressing, it really didn't mean anything. Whenever we wanted to be alone, it was just easier to meet at the infirmary. So why did Carson suddenly want to meet at his place?

We were now well into dinner in Carson's quarters, and I still wasn't any closer to finding out the answer. An inner voice that sounded suspiciously like my Great Aunt Mimi (who loved to dispense relationship advice, despite the fact she'd been married seven times) said that maybe he just wanted a quiet evening together, but my gut told me something else was up. My mind had played out dozens of possible scenarios before I'd finally settled on one, and I still wasn't convinced I'd gotten it right. It seemed preposterous, but all the signs were there. He'd been oddly quiet all night, hadn't even noticed that I was actually wearing make up (okay, technically just mascara and lip gloss) despite the fact he was normally so observant about that kind of thing, and hadn't touched his dinner. Carson was also an old fashioned kind of guy, with a close relationship to his family, and a sensitivity for someone in my delicate "condition." As dinner was winding down, I could tell Carson was slowly working up the nerve to tell me something, and it seemed there was only one natural conclusion.

Carson Beckett was going to ask me to marry him…

I still wasn't quite sure how I felt about that idea. Don't get me wrong, Carson is probably the sweetest, most caring and gentlest man I have ever had the good fortune of knowing, and I love him dearly, but when I pictured the two of us standing at the altar together, I got a dull feeling in the pit of my stomach and the whole thing just felt…off, somehow. Of course, that could have been the fact that I was picturing myself in a lacy, ruffled maternity wedding dress with a stomach that looked like I'd eaten the whole wedding cake by myself, but whatever.

Leaning uneasily over the table, Carson took my hand, and I froze. I knew my eyes were so wide they probably looked like they were going to fall out of my head, and I willed my jaw to unclench. "Laura," he said, "I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to think about your answer very carefully. If nothing else, I want you to be honest with me, okay?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but I don't know who I think I'm kidding. I couldn't form words any easier than I could form any thoughts besides, "Oh god oh god oh god oh god…" My mouth felt like cotton and all I could do was nod mutely, but luckily that seemed to satisfy him.

Nodding solemnly, Carson looked me straight in the eyes and asked, "Are you happy with me?"

Whatever benevolent deity was out there must have heard my silent pleas and taken pity on me, because the power of speech had miraculously returned. Sadly, the power of coherent thought had not, so all I managed was a confused, "What?"

Carson looked a little put out, but asked again, "Are you happy with me?"

Snorting good naturedly at the absurdness of the question, I said, "Carson, of course I'm—"

He held up a hand and I fell silent. "Laura, I want you to really think about your answer. You promised to be honest, lass."

I felt my eyebrows knit together as he watched me. Obviously I was happy with him! I mean, what's not to like? He's smart, compassionate, easy on the eyes, and I liked being around him. Wasn't that enough?

Wasn't it?

That dull feeling in the pit of my stomach surprised me, and suddenly I knew what it was. I loved him, always had, and probably always would, but there was something missing. I didn't know what it was, I didn't even know if I really needed this mysterious "something" to be happy with Carson. The hows and whys didn't matter to me, all that mattered was the way Carson was looking at me now, like I'd just kicked his favorite puppy. "That's what I thought," he said.

Carson withdrew his hand and my breath caught in my throat. "Laura, I think it's best if we don't see each other anymore."

I felt something in my chest crack just a little. "Carson?"

He continued, using the calming brogue that hid his distress from his patients. "I can remain as your primary physician, if you like, but I understand if you're uncomfortable. Dr. Bernard is quite good at obstetrics, actually. I would like to think, in time perhaps, we can be friends…but that's really up to you."

"You're breaking up with me?" I whispered, not wanting to believe what I was hearing.

"Laura," that damn soothing voice was really beginning to grate on my nerves, "you know I love you, but—"

"Then don't leave me!" I burst out, incredulous.

Carson continued, still using that earnest, gentle brogue that was driving me up a wall. "I love you like a dear, dear friend, but I can't give you what you need."

"I need you," I spat, disgusted with myself for losing control like this, and at Carson for giving up on me.

"No, you don't. You need somebody that can match that sharp tongue of yours. I can't keep up with that. What we have…" He trailed off and took my hand in his, then began again. "We don't have that passion you need, Laura."

"Passion is overrated," I objected feebly, knowing it was no use. I could already feel angry tears welling up behind my eyes. I jerked my hand away from his and wiped them away.

"Aye, that may be true for some people, but you're not one of them." His fond smile just made me break a little bit more inside. "You take on life like it's a big carnival ride. I'll admit, that's one of the things I love about you, and it was nice to be a part of that for a while. But for you to be truly happy, you need somebody who's up for the adventure as much as you are."

I knew exactly where this was coming from, and I wasn't about to let him get by skirting the real issue. Feeling hot tears spill down my cheeks, I accused, "You mean someone like Rodney."

Carson closed his eyes, and it was the first crack I saw in his calm demeanor. "Aye, like Rodney," he sighed. "You have a connection with Rodney, lass, you just don't realize it. I can't compete with that." I opened my mouth to object, but he cut me off with a stern look. "And I shouldn't be expected to."

I clenched my jaw tight, trying desperately to fight the onslaught of tears, but I didn't say anything else. As much as I tried to deny it, in my heart, I knew he was right. It wasn't fair to either of us, and in the end it would make us both miserable. I nodded in understanding, and Carson smiled back sadly. Unable to get my tears under control, I croaked, "I'll see you for my appointment next month, Dr. Beckett." I hesitated a second, then gave Carson a brief kiss to the cheek before turning and practically running back to my quarters. I didn't care who saw me, my cheeks stained with dark streaks where my mascara was running. It seemed like I had to cross half of Atlantis to make it back to my quarters, but when I finally did, I ran straight to my bed, buried my face in my pillow, and cried.

oOo

An hour or so later, the sobs had subsided, but I think that was mostly because I'd exhausted myself. The tears were still flowing freely, but I wasn't even bothering to wipe at them anymore. I was just beginning to drift off to sleep when I heard a voice outside my door.

"Cadman? I need to talk to you. Let me in." Great, Rodney was the last person I wanted to see right now. I buried my head under a pillow, dislodging a few of the wadded tissues strewn about my bed, and that's when the pounding commenced.

"Cadman! I know you're in there, I can see you on the lifesigns detector! Now open this door!" I heard mumbled cursing as McKay fiddled with something outside my door, then grumbled, "If you're just asleep or ignoring me in there, so help me…" My lights flickered out and I heard a yelp of pain as my door whooshed open, revealing Rodney silhouetted in the light from the hall, sucking his injured fingers. "Your door isn't wired properly, Cadman. Seriously, that's a safety hazard, someone should check it out."

In no mood to beat around the bush, I mumbled from beneath my pillow, "Get out," but it came out more as a "Grh-umpf."

In true McKay fashion, Rodney carelessly ignored my warning and strode into my room, saying, "Cadman, wake up. I need you to—"

"Go away!"

This time I know he heard me, because he stopped and asked pissily, "What's your problem?"

Taking the pillow off my face, I sat up and looked at him for the first time. "Dammit, McKay, I said leave me alone!"

Rodney looked shocked and hurt for a second, but his expression quickly morphed into one of annoyance. "Geez, Cadman, you look like hell."

Flopping back onto the bed, which sent a few more Kleenex wads flying, I ground out flatly, "Thank you for bringing your little bit of sunshine into my day, Rodney. I feel so much better now."

"What's the matter?" he asked cautiously, and then he was suddenly by my side, clenching my hand in his. "Is the baby okay?"

"Babies," I corrected.

"What?"

"The babies are fine, Rodney." I extricated my hand from his, then groaned, "Which is more than I can say for me right now."

Rodney grabbed a Kleenex from the box on the bed and handed it to me. When I just glared back at him, he rolled his eyes and began wiping my face for me. I thought about swatting his hand away, but I was too tired to move. Besides, it felt good to have someone taking care of me right now. "What happened?" he asked when he'd finished. "I've never seen you like this."

I thought about trying to give him the brush off, refusing to talk about it, but pulling that ploy with Rodney required way more energy than I had in me. Accepting the fact that he'd just pester me until I told him anyway, I admitted, "Carson and I broke up."

Rodney looked like I'd just told him the sky was a nice shade of paisley today. "What? How? …What?"

"Pick a question and go with it, McKay."

Rodney's brief flash of aggravation was quickly buried under a look of sympathy. "What happened?"

I wanted to say, "You did," but I stopped myself. I'd like to say I did it out of a desire to spare McKay's feelings, but really I just did it because I couldn't handle Rodney abandoning me out of some convoluted sense of guilt. Getting dumped once sucked enough, I didn't think I could handle it twice in one day.

"He left me," I put simply, closing my eyes against the fresh flood of tears. "Here I am, nearly 5 months pregnant, and he just pulls the rug right out from under me. I mean, who does that?" I began wearily searching for my Kleenex box among the rubble from my earlier breakdown. "Who abandons a pregnant woman halfway through her pregnancy?"

Rodney found the box of tissues under a pile of rumpled sheets and handed it to me. "I doubt he could abandon you even if he wanted to. There are only so many places in the infirmary to hide…believe me, I've checked."

I sat up and threw a wadded tissue at his chest. "You know that's not what I mean!" I sniffled. "I just hate feeling so alone."

Rodney sat awkwardly on the bed next to me. "You know you're not alone, right? I mean, if it's any consolation, you've at least got me, and I'm not going anywhere."

Smiling weakly through the last of my tears, I said, "I know," and gave up trying to keep myself upright. My head fell onto McKay's shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders to hold me up. "Thanks."

We sat like that for several seconds, just taking comfort in each other, when curiosity struck and my eyes openned of their own volition. "Rodney, what did you need to talk to me about?"

"What?" he asked, sounding on the verge of drifting off to sleep. "Oh, it's nothing. I just brought the catalogue with me." He pulled the rolled up booklet out of his back pocket, the same one I had dog-eared and in the infirmary. He must have sensed my confusion, because he added with a hint of laughter in his voice, "I saw you stuff it under the mattress, and I went back for it later. We need to place an order for you tomorrow if we want the Daedalus to be able to bring your new maternity clothes back in the next trip."

"No offense, Rodney, I mean there's a few nice things in there, but I just don't think there's anything that I'll feel comfortable wearing around Atlantis when I'm on-duty."

When Rodney spoke, he sounded drowsy but content. "Well, I doubt the SGC makes a maternity uniform, but I could always put in a special request with the general," he teased. "They love me down there."

I chuckled into his shoulder. "I'm sure they do." I blamed the exhaustion for the fact that it didn't come out as sarcastic as I intended.

oOo

A/N: Beckett/Cadman supporters, feel free to flame me. I kinda hate myself for what I put them through this chapter.

McKay/Cadman supporters, feel free to ease the burn from the flamers. ;)