Omfg, Vegas-verse. Is anyone else as excited as I am? Probably not, but it's ok.

This story has been in the back of my mind since V2 ended, and I've managed to fight writing it until now. So I hope you all enjoy, because I love writing Vegas. It makes me happy (read: absurdly giddy).

Just a few technical, chronological notes: Ryan and Taylor got married in early June, Summer had her baby in July and this is now August.

Music: I sold your love down the river for a bow and arrow, Euphoria has just been here and she's looking terrible

(Two Weeks Earlier)

"Your plans suck."

I turn to glare at him over my shoulder before looking back at the little plastic stick in my hand. There's nothing yet, and it feels like forever before the little plus sign shows up.

Crap.

"Yup," I sigh, throwing the test on the counter. "I'm pregnant."

"How?"

I turn to face him – leaning against the bathroom door frame, arms folded, frowning and brooding.

How?

"Well," I start, feeding off the annoyance racing through me, "I'm assuming it happened the way these things tend to happen. Didn't they teach you sex ed in public school?"

"But aren't you on the pill?" He pushes off the door frame and walks up to the counter, carefully picking up the pregnancy test and the box. He holds them both to the light, comparing the results.

Like I'm lying or something.

"Yes, Ryan," I sigh, moving over to the full-length mirror. "But they're not a hundred percent. And don't blame this on me, Mr. I keep forgetting to wear a condom."

"Hey," he lets the little plastic stick and the box drop to the counter and turns to me, looking sullen, "we both agreed its better when I don't wear one."

I don't answer. Instead I stare at myself in the mirror. I don't look any different. I lift my shirt up and stare at my stomach. Nope. No difference.

He leans both hands on the counter and sighs.

"So what now?"

Month One: August

"I'm gonna be sick," she mutters to me, pressing a hand to her stomach.

"Do you need me to pull over?" I take my foot off the gas but she shakes her head no.

"Not morning sickness-sick. Just… I don't think I can do this."

"We'll be fine," I try to assure her, but I feel the nervousness myself. She doesn't answer, just stares out the window and holds her stomach.

Too soon we make it, and I park the Jeep behind Seth's mini-van. Shit. I'm gonna need a fucking mini-van soon, too.

Fuck.

"You want me to tell them?" Cody asks as we make our way up the porch steps.

"Yes," Taylor turns to him, looking relieved.

"No," I cut in, shaking my head. She frowns but I ignore that.

We told Cody a couple days ago – after we went to the doctor and made absolutely sure. He'd been just as surprised as we were, probably because he knew about Taylor's five year plan. We weren't supposed to have kids for other two years.

She absolutely sucks at making plans.

She makes an annoyed noise and stomps up the stairs faster, knocking loudly on the door. Cody shoots me a way to go look and I sigh in response. Taylor's been a little angry at me lately.

Probably cause I knocked her up.

I keep trying to figure out when it happened. I know it doesn't really matter, but I just keep running it all through my head. Was it that time after I came home from work and found her baking and took her up against the kitchen island? Or maybe it was when we got there early to pick Cody up from soccer camp at the local school, and we took advantage of that empty classroom – fulfilling one of my longstanding Taylor in high school fantasies.

I guess it really doesn't matter, cause the end result is the same. She's pregnant, we're having a kid, and now we have to tell everyone.

"Hey, kiddo," Sandy greets, opening the door. He slings an arm around Taylor and drags her inside, throwing a grin at Cody and me. We follow him in, to where Kirsten, Sophie, Seth, Summer, and Nicole are.

Sophie waves enthusiastically at Cody, who smiles and goes to sit next to her. She's really taken to her 'Uncle Cody', and I'm really glad he's not annoyed by her eight-year-old antics. Actually, he seems to enjoy being the cool uncle. Even though he's – technically – her nephew, she still calls him uncle.

I have a fucked up family tree.

"So what's with the family meeting?" Seth asks, raising an eyebrow at me. He looks exhausted and pale and I feel my stomach lurch. I'm gonna be looking like that in nine months.

In Summer's lap, Nicole giggles, taking her fingers out of her mouth and waving them around. Summer bends down and kisses the girl's dark head and I watch Seth's eyes flick down to his one-month old daughter.

"We'll talk after dinner," I tell them, moving to sit down. Kirsten frowns at me and I shrug, sitting at my usual place, with Taylor next to me.

"What's wrong?" Kirsten asks as I twirl my spaghetti around on the plate.

"Hm?" I ask, looking up at her.

"You're not eating," she observes. "You love spaghetti."

"I guess I'm not hungry," I shrug, hoping she'll drop it. Next to me, Ryan stiffens up a bit at the exchange. Kirsten doesn't say anything else, though, and focuses back on Sophie. I don't look at anyone else – especially Ryan. I just stare at my spaghetti.

Things with Ryan and I have been… weird lately. Ever since we found out I was pregnant, things have gotten a little strained. And I know it's partly my fault – I'm always glaring and making snarky comments, but he's definitely not helping.

Because every time he looks at me, I see the panic.

Cody didn't freak him out. Adopting him was easier for Ryan than it was for me, so you'd think he'd be ok with us having a child of our own. But he barely touches me anymore, he's constantly running his hand through his hair or rubbing the back of his neck. He avoids eye contact with me, he's become – if possible – less talkative than normal.

"So what's your big news?" Sandy asks when everyone's basically finished.

I look over at Ryan to find him completely stiff, jaw clenched. Fucker.

"I'm pregnant."

I'm sure the dead silence is a great sign.

"Oh," Kirsten's the first to break. "This is… good news, right?" Apparently she notices Ryan's… less than enthusiastic expression.

"Of course it's good news," Sandy jumps in to take the spotlight off his son. "Congratulations."

"Yeah, man," Seth takes the lead and claps his brother on the shoulder. Ryan nods, still wound tight.

Summer says nothing. Her eyes go from Ryan, to me, to Ryan again and her mouth sets in an angry line. She knows both of us well enough to get that something's off.

"Atwood," Summer drawls and I turn from the kitchen counter to watch her come in.

"Cohen," I mock. Her eyes narrow a bit at the dig, but she doesn't take the topic change. I know why she's really here.

"So tell me, why is your wife currently in the upstairs bathroom, crying?"

I sigh and run a hand over my face. "She's crying?"

"Well, she's pretending she has something in her eye, but yes, she's crying. What the hell?"

"I don't know," I shrug, even though it's kind of a lie. I know she's probably crying because I'm not all enthusiastic that we're having a kid, but I can't help it. I'm fucking panicking here, and I'm trying not to, because I don't want her to panic, but me not panicking turns into me not talking at all.

"Hey, remember back when you proposed to her?" Summer leans up against the counter next to me and starts to examine her nails, which is never a good sign.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, remember when I came back from my honeymoon and we had that talk?" I just nod this time and she nods in response. "And remember how I told you not to screw it up with her? And remember how I told you that if you ever hurt her again, I'd kill you?"

"It's not like I'm trying to hurt her," I argue, feeling the energy drain out of me. I don't feel like doing this. I don't feel like fighting with Summer, I don't feel like facing Seth and the Cohens, I don't feel like taking care of Cody. And I don't feel like going home with my wife.

I'm a horrible husband.

"Cody, why don't you go do your homework?" Ryan says the minute we get inside. The boy shoots me a look and I nod in agreement. He still looks hesitant as he makes his way to his room and I can't help but feel grateful for his support.

Ever since Ryan did absolutely nothing after we told the Cohens I was pregnant, Cody's been shooting him glares every chance he got. Sometimes I still think of Cody as Ryan's, but it's little things like this – like him taking my side – that makes me think that someday, he'll feel like mine, too.

"Taylor," he takes my hand and leads me into the living area and sits me down on the couch.

"Is this the part where you tell me you're real sorry for being a complete ass?"

He sighs and sits next to me. "Pretty much. I'm freaking out here," he admits, shifting uncomfortably.

"Why?" I turn to face him and take his hand in mine. "We already have a kid," I remind him, eyes going to the ceiling to remind him of Cody. "It's only been two months, but I think we're doing pretty good, you know? With Bullit's help with Cody, we have the resources to raise a baby and once our house gets built, we'll have the room. I don't get why you didn't 'freak out' like this when we took Cody in."

He bites the inside of his lip as he thinks it over and I wait for him to talk. I've said my piece – even if it wasn't the whole thing. I didn't ask him if he's freaked out because the child has my genes. I won't go there right now.

"Cody," he starts off slowly, staring at the far wall like he's really thinking this through, "was different. Cody is thirteen. This is a baby." I'm about to say something along the lines of duh, but he continues. "Do you know how many ways I can fuck up a baby?"

"Ryan."

"No, seriously." He finally looks at me, the panic evident and uncontrolled. "Cody's thirteen. He's capable of thinking on his own, he's already learned how to take care of himself. Taylor, this kid's gonna rely on me to fucking raise it. I can't raise a kid."

"Ryan," I say again, trying to interrupt, but apparently he's me now, and he doesn't notice.

"You remember Flapjacks, right?" he puts his head in his hands and I resist the urge to grin, instead setting a hand on his shoulder in sympathy.

"That wasn't your fault…"

"I sent him to live with Bullit," he mourns.

Jesus, seriously? It's been like, seven years since the stupid rabbit died and he's still acting like it was yesterday – and like it was his child. And we don't even know that Flapjacks is dead. He could just be… lost.

"You couldn't take him to college, Ryan," I sigh, beginning to rub his back. "And you couldn't leave him with the Cohens, because Sophie was too young. How were you supposed to know Bullit would send him off to his ranch? And hey, maybe Flapjacks found a nice girl bunny and they have a happy bunny family down on the farm in Texas?"

"I'm not ten," he mutters, raising his head from his hands to glare at me. I resist the urge to remind him that he's acting like it.

"Ryan," I sigh again, taking his hand and patting it gently. He glares at the gesture and frowns, but lets me talk. "You're gonna be a great father. I see how you are with Cody. He may not be a baby, but he's still a kid. And we babysit Nicole all the time. Watching you with her?" I don't finish the thought because he shifts uncomfortably – still unable to take praise.

I let him think, content to watch him brood – the way he stares off into space, jaw clenching and unclenching, eyes going all intense. I'm right, though. He'll be a wonderful father – I've known that for years. I know I wasn't around a lot when we were in college, but I came to holidays and I saw him with Sophie and Matthew.

Both of them were sprung on him within a year of each other and he handled it better than I could've. I remember one Chrismukkah – our second year in college. He and I hadn't been on speaking terms – even though we had sex twelve times over the course of that break – but I remember watching him from the kitchen. He was in the living room with Sophie and Matthew – their parents taking a much needed rest – and I just remember watching him… be. If it were me and two two-year-olds, I would've been freaking out and wondering if I was going to kill them or something. But Ryan sat on the floor with them and he just… was. No fear, no hesitation. He just smiled and watched and played with them, completely relaxed and that's when I knew he would make a great father.

"Taylor?"

"Hm?" I look over at him frowning at me and I realize he must've been talking to me. "Sorry, I was thinking."

"Yeah, me too."

"And?"

"And… I'll be ok. I'll just have to learn to handle it, but I have to know you're ok."

"Me?" I ask, scrunching up my face to figure out what he's talking about.

"Yeah. I know you, Taylor, I know when you're freaking out." I widen my eyes to try and look innocent, but he shakes his head. "Don't give me that. You've been bitching at me nonstop for the past week."

"Not bitching," I mumble, picking at my nails. "Look, Ryan, I'm not freaked about having a baby with you." He raises one eyebrow, like he doesn't believe me. "I'm not. The only thing that scares me is the pregnancy thing."

"Uh huh," he goads, sitting back, eyebrow still raised.

"You know," I continue, shrugging. "The whole getting fat thing and having a baby thing? Apparently it hurts. I don't do well with pain, Ryan, you know that. Remember when I sprained my wrist trying to learn how to rollerblade?"

"You complained that entire month," he smiles, shaking his head.

"See? Don't do well with pain." He starts to laugh lightly and leans over to kiss me. "Are we ok?"

"Yeah, we're ok," he agrees, kissing me again. I grin against his mouth and shift so that I'm straddling his lap. He groans happily, hands coming to rest on my waist. He pulls back suddenly, catching my eye. "Can you call Summer and tell her we're ok?"

"What?"

"So she doesn't kill me," he explains and I nod, giggling a little.

I love Summer.

He reaches up to kiss me again and I sigh into him, wrapping my arms around his neck and settling myself properly on top of him – and by 'properly' I mean 'so I can feel him rubbing against me in just the right way'.

"Oh, ew, seriously?" Cody's voice calls disgustedly from the doorway and we break apart.

"Cody," Ryan runs his hand over his face, not letting me get off his lap – probably so Cody won't see that he's hard. "I thought you were doing your homework."

"I came out to get a snack," the boy explains, wrinkling up his nose like he doesn't think he can eat anymore. "I thought you guys were fighting."

"Um… we're not anymore?" I venture and Cody rolls his eyes.

"Seth and Summer were right," he mutters, moving off toward the kitchen.

"Right about what?" Ryan calls after him, but Cody doesn't answer. "Right about what?" he calls again, louder this time and more annoyed.

I sigh and get off his lap. We're not having sex now and the baby has to pee.

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