Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Rugrats characters (they belong to Klasky-Csupo) and I am not making any money off of this story.

Rated for adult situations and language.

Chapter 1

Angelica Pickles was stressed. Extremely stressed. She had literally never been so anxious in her whole life. Graduation was a mere two weeks away. Her cap and gown still hadn't arrived, her dress needed dry cleaning and she had to postpone her hair appointment because Stefano was out of town. She didn't have a job lined up yet, and all her interviews thus far had not gone so well. She and Chuck were having a little trouble with rent and bills, and he refused to accept help from her parents, or from his, for that matter. She frowned. Things were not peachy keen. She sighed and reached for her cigarettes, but thought better of it. She shouldn't be smoking. No, definitely not.

And now this. The thought of it made her nauseous. Or it made her nauseous. She chided herself for thinking like that. She wasn't even sure yet, so there was no reason to get worried…yet. Yeah. Probably nothing at all. Everything will probably be just fine…probably. She chewed her lip nervously and picked up The New York Times just to have something to do. But she couldn't concentrate on the world's issues and her mind wandered back to her own predicament. She was too nervous to do it alone. She needed someone for support, just in case. But she was too anxious to sit and wait much longer. Just as she stood, the front door opened and Chuck entered, carrying a few plastic bags.

He smiled. "Hey, Goldilocks. Sorry I'm late." He set the bags down on the kitchen floor and started to put things away. "I stopped by the grocery store to get some stuff on the way home from work. What do you think we should do for dinner?" He held up a pre-packaged pizza crust. "I'm thinking pizza! We can make that homemade pesto again. It was so good last time."

"Actually, I'm not hungry…I feel a little queasy, actually."

"Oh, no…What's wrong?"

"Well…" She stood before him, wringing her hands. He gave her an inquisitive look.

"Well, what?"

"Ithinkimightbepregnant."

"Come again?"

"I think I might be pregnant."