Set after Combat.


"We need to talk."

"No, Gwen, we don't," Owen replied without looking up from his workstation. "Talking isn't a biological necessity, breathing is. That's probably where you're confused, because you need to breath to be able to talk."

"I'm pregnant."

Owen threw a brief glance over his shoulder and returned his attention back to his work. "Congratulations. I didn't think Rhys had it in him."

"It's not Rhys's baby. It's yours."

"Now how would you know a thing like that? It's too early to test DNA for paternity."

Gwen didn't reply. She just raised her eyebrows a little when Owen turned to look at her again.

"Oh," Owen said knowingly.

"I don't want any wise-arse remarks from you," Gwen quickly cut him off.

"So, how does Rhys feel about having a baby?"

"He doesn't know yet."

"Are you having an abortion?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Have a baby, don't have a baby. It's your decision. Don't come to me for support, though. I use those rubber johnnies for a reason: I don't want to sprout any off-spring." Owen got up and tried to push past Gwen. "Is that all?"

"I guess that is all." Gwen let Owen pass. She looked up and just caught a glimpse of Jack turning away from his window. She looked at her watch. "Nine o'clock." She sighed. "That went rather well, this early in the morning." She went to sit at her own workstation.