Rebecca stumbles through the front door, bag ready to drop from her grasp as she processes every second of her day; from her drive over to ending the day with a phone call to her workplace from the local clinic.

She hugs her elbow, listening to the buzzing of her skull.

"Is that you, Rebecca?"

She addresses the man in the living room who sits comfortably on the sofa.

"Uh,' she rubs her hands together, 'yes."

Rebecca checks the clock…

12:16am. On the nose.

"You're home late,' remarks, tossing an empty bottle of beer onto the table, 'where were you?"

"At the café,' she has one hand over her stomach, the other up over her shoulder, 'Marge and I got to talking."

"Until midnight?" He throws his tie next.

Rebecca answers small smirk, "It's been an eventful afternoon actually. Two weeks ago Susan and Elaine-."

"Why! Are! You still talking to my family?! I thought we talked about this?"

She shrugs, "You had the car. They're my family too."

"You're out until midnight, tell me you made decent tips tonight?"

Her hand drops along with her smirk, reluctant to reach into her apron pocket, "Here."

He takes the bills in a fistful, "That's it?"

"Well."

"Is. This. It. Rebecca."

"Yes," she answers meekly.

He tosses the cash, beginning to pace the room.

She can almost see the smoke sizzling from his ears, reaching back into her apron with her head pulsing, "Wait."

Brian takes her presumed last bit of green paper, "Better. Still not enough."

Rebecca can't control an eye roll so she shuts her eyes, "I told you this was my contribution and you told me that it would be enough."

"I don't want you at that café anymore. You waste all of your energy on random customers and come home past midnight, exhausted."

"We can't afford-."

"I'll tell you something, your excuses are getting worse,' he mumbles, 'talking with Marge-. You were ready to keep that last bill from me. Why? What other secrets do you have-."

"I'm pregnant," she blurts out and taps at her sides with fists clenched, "You haven't been home so I never got the chance to tell you…I need to pay the clinic. And buy baby things. I need my job because putting all of the responsibilities to pay on you just wouldn't be fair."

He tugs at his hair, mulling over her words. The cuff button on his shirt is pulled open when he mutters, "It's a Banner?"

She gawks.

For a moment, Rebecca debates on slapping him in the jaw. Her lips part at a loss for words, "Yes, Brian. It's yours."

He rolls his eyes, "We can get rid of it. I know a guy."

"I'm keeping my baby," Rebecca hugs her stomach, mortified, with a confirmed decision she's contemplated for a full week.

" Your baby," he scoffs, coldly.

She hugs herself, "Our, baby."

"You'll promise me something,' he grabs her wrist, pulling her close, 'when that thing gets here, it'll never replace me in your heart. Promise me that I'm your number one. I'm the only person in your life that holds any relevance. I pay for the roof over your head, your food, your car…You owe me that much."

She tightens her jaw, letting her head fall forward on his chest, "Yes."

"What was that?"

"Yes," she looks up at him, swallowing, "I said 'yes'."

He kisses her forehead, "You're mine. Only mine."

She's left alone when he heads for their bedroom looking over the mess in the living room.

"You'll have to take the bus tomorrow. I need the car and you're not calling my sisters," he adds before shutting the door behind him.

Rebecca subconsciously digs through the hidden pocket of her apron, stoic in her expression as she reveals an extra few bills from that evening's tips to herself.

Rebecca chews her nails down as she waits at the stop the next morning with a purple sweater draped over her crossed arms.

She questions the source when she hears someone with an unfamiliar voice call her first name.

She smiles politely over the return of one of her café guests;

"Erik. Good mornin'."

He pats the bench beside him.

"Fancy seeing you here," she obliges.

"My wife needed to borrow the car."

Rebecca nods, "I see."

He lowers the paper to pay her complete attention, addressing the cover, "They're planning another launch."

She seems to light up over the conversation turning toward space, "Isn't it just amazing?"

"You really love this stuff. My wife won't let me talk about any of this for more than a second before she's bored…An-Anyways. As long as nobody blows up upon landing, they'll call it a success," he snickers.

She shrugs, "Apollo 10 did just fine."

"Now that's debatable. I could've stabilized the take off-."

"Then why, pray tell, are you on an empty base instead of running flight missions to the moon?"

"I go where they tell me to go and I don't ask questions," he rolls up his paper and stands as the bus arrives.

Rebecca climbs onboard first and claims a window seat.

Erik follows her and selects the seat next to her.

Rebecca hums, checking her bag, "Are you off to work?"

"Medical today," he half groans, adjusting his seated position, his wedding band next.

"Fascinating. You're a doctor who is also a doctor," she intertwines her fingers.

"Where are you off to Rebecca?"

The bus jolts forward, causing everyone on board to look left at the man who is late and chasing the bus driver down.

Rebecca holds her chest, losing her breath due to laughter over the incident. This causes Erik to chuckle, trying not to mock the gentleman with his briefcase in hand as he boards the half empty public transport.

He clearly doesn't understand why the encounter was so hilarious, finding her laughter more contagious than anything else.

"What is it?"

She wipes her eyes, laughing through her confession, "I am so sick. This laughter hurts…I'm going to throw up."

He cringes, ready to duck should the path of projection land in his direction;

"Was it a long night at the café?"

"No," she is still laughing, sinking in her chair and throwing her head back.

Erik folds his newspaper and fans her, "I wish you'd let me in on the joke."

"It's just-,' she tries to compose herself, 'It's nothing. My life has just turned so completely upside down this week. I relate to that man hunting down the bus on a metaphorical level."

Erik laughs, on his own this time and opens his paper to finish reading a column, "Me too."

He leans over after nudging her elbow with his, "What do you think the problem is with these? The delayed release of these computers?"

She scans the page, pushing through the dizzy spell, "Imagine what you could create on a small, in-home one."

It's a quick drive with not much to see outside of a New Mexican bus window.

Upon the arrival at the last stop, Erik stands.

Rebecca follows suit as they exit the bus.

"Well,' she points, 'I'm heading this way."

"Me too," he chivalrously chooses to walk the path closest to the nonexistent street side. There might as well be tumbleweeds, but Rebecca takes note regardless.

She pauses when he follows her up the walkway toward the Doctor's office, holding the door for herself;

"You're, still following me."

"How many doctors work in this place?"

"Just one, usually," she looks up, making reluctant eye contact with Erik.

His jaw tightens, looking up toward the flickering light in the lobby as a receptionist leans over her desk;

"Dr. Selvig? Welcome! You'll be filling in for Dr. Parry this month!"

Rebecca tucks her chin immediately.

The receptionist continues, "We're waiting on your first patient. A 9am for, let's see here…"

"Rebecca Banner," the woman clutching her purple sweater answers for herself with a flustered expression.

His eyes fall over her stomach, "…Sweet Jesus no. Miss? Miss? Is there another doctor you can call in? I just, I'm not sure-. She's a friend of mine-wife of a colleague of mine-."

The receptionist checks over the twosome, "I…We have a full schedule and I'm not sure Mrs. Banner should wait a month. I could find another clinic, let's see…about another 6 miles-."

"-Oh for heaven's sake,' Rebecca pulls the door to the back open it on her own, nauseas, and deciding her day is a wash, 'Let's just get it over with."