Author's Note- Rolling out some more One-Shots! Decided to name all these One-Shots that I'm updated that are post The Reckoning plot- meaning no AU/AH about them whatsoever- so that they fall within the same story after Chloe and Derek share their second kiss at the end of the third book. It's called the Darkest Powers Chronicles. From now on, all the One-Shots I post with this heading are part of the same story line. Otherwise, there is probably a different plot to them. I added Love and War to the category. Let me know if anyone wants a One-Shot.

Anyways, this is a belated Valentine's Day fic. :D

I really don't have much to say about this one except for how much I was giggling as I wrote it. Hope it brings some smiles to you guys too, my devoted readers.

Enjoy!

Surprise

For the first time in all the eight years that I've known her, I found myself completely stumped on Chloe's actions. I've been confused by her several times, sure. For instance, when she had chosen to love me, the overbearing and grumpy jackass, over my brother, Simon, the charming and compassionate nice guy. I've definitely been conflicted over her decisions on many occasions as well. Like when she insisted on helping or jumping into a dangerous situation instead of standing down like I asked her too.

However, she has never down right left me in a mixed state of shock and critical concern.

I watched, slightly slack-jawed as she devoured the strange combination meal she had ordered at the rather extravagant restaurant I had brought her to for Valentine's Day. At twenty-three, my girlfriend couldn't be more than five feet tall and had hardly any meat on her bones, yet, here she was, scarfing down her food as if she and I had suddenly switched appetites.

She was eating like a werewolf.

I remember being more than a little questioning when I had witnessed her order.

"Right. Can I please get the Thursday special? The one with the 12 ounce sirloin and mashed potatoes. Except, can I make those loaded mashed potatoes, with extra sour cream? And then, instead of the steamed vegetables, can I get onion rings?

"I'm sorry miss. We don't have any onion rings."

"You don't have any onion rings? What kind of place doesn't have any- Derek, babe, can you please tell this nice waitress that I want some onion rings?"

"Chloe, they don't have any-"

"God, you're not being helpful at all. Fine. If there are no onion rings, then I'll take the stuffed mushrooms."

"Very well miss. And how would you like your meat cooked."

"Medium well."

"Chloe, you never eat meat that isn't well done. You're going to make yourself sick."

"So, are you telling me that the chicken you cooked last night wasn't cooked all the way through? Because, if you recall, I was puking my guts out this morning. Remember?"

"I told you, I must have made a mistake. I don't know how many times I have to apologize."

"Whatever. Can I just get it medium well, please?"

"Sure thing, miss. Anything else?"

"Yes, actually. Can I add a cookies and cream milkshake?"

"We don't serve milkshakes."

"Chloe, we can get you a milkshake after dinner."

"What kind of place doesn't serve milkshakes!"

Chloe wound up ordering two extra appetizers and demanded that they be free of charge since she was denied as a customer of what she wanted. The waitress was not happy.

I wondered for a moment if the way that she was behaving and the weird food that she was craving meant that it was roughly her time of the month. It usually fell around second week, but- though I would never admit to her that I was able to tell- by the smell of her, she wasn't even close.

Her scent was different, however.

Nevertheless, all my concerns peeked as I witnessed her inhale her food as if it was the last meal she would ever have. Clearing my throat, I decided that it was time to stop avoiding whatever it was that had Chloe acting this way and voice my worries.

"Chloe, are you feeling alright?"

Her blue eyes met mine fiercely and she answered through a mouthful of steak.

"Not really. I'm kind of ticked that I couldn't just get some damn onion rings."

"I'm not talking about the onion rings, Chloe. I'm talking about the way you've been acting lately."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. I should have been wary, cautious even, as she slowly set her silverware onto her plate and crossed her arms in front of her chest. But I've lived with the woman for eight years and- though I hadn't meant to upset her- I knew that the fight brewing here was inevitable.

I didn't know, however, how it was going to end differently from all our other fights.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" She asked harshly.

"I'm just worried about you. You haven't been yourself all this week." I lowered my voice slightly to keep from being overheard by other nosy customers. "Is it a ghost? Have you been seeing-"

"No, I haven't seen any damn ghosts." Chloe blurted, catching the attention of the people sitting at the tables closest to us. I gave her a stern look and she continued. "Don't give me that look. Please, enlighten me. How have I not been acting myself lately?"

I loved this girl. I really did. She was my first everything and the wolf had made a personal attachment to her itself, claiming that she was its mate. I didn't tend to allow such animalistic instincts to take form, usually shoving them back into the deep recesses of my mind, but, at the moment, the wolf was signaling me that there was something more going on here than Chloe acting different. Something that had to do with the new scent that was wafting from her person.

But, like I usually did, I suffocated the wolf's warnings and scoffed, Chloe's attitude triggering my temper like a hand grenade.

"Gladly. You're moody all the time. You've been sick to your stomach off and on and refuse to see a doctor about it. You keep getting headaches and back pains and, half the time, I'm wondering if that demi-demon, Diriel you often worry about has found some way to possess you. But that wouldn't really explain the way you've been devouring whatever you crave the last couple of days-" I froze, all of this coming out in a harsh whisper as I filtered through all the abnormal things that I've noticed about Chloe in just the last week alone until they all clicked together like some intricate puzzle.

"Oh my God," I breathed, the realization hitting me like a bucket of ice water. I met Chloe's gaze, wondering, as I had berated her, if she had drawn the same conclusion I had.

However, she was staring at me with glassy eyes, brims filled with unshed tears as she quivered pathetically and slumped against her chair.

"God, I-I've been acting l-like such a bitch lately. I'm s-s-so sorry, Derek. And I c-can't help it if I-I'm hungry a-all the time. And l-look at m-me!" She hiccupped, her hands reaching for her slightly swollen belly beneath the burgundy dress she wore for the occasion.

"I-I'm getting fat. I bought this dress a month ago and I could hardly get it on this afternoon. You p-probably think I'm fat and disgusting, don't you? T-that's why you're y-yelling at me. You d-do, don't y-you?" She was blubbering at this point and I had to reach across the table and grab her hands to calm her down.

"Chloe." I said evenly, tone stern. "I don't think you're fat. I think you're bloated."

Good choice of words, genius.

"What the h-hell does that mean?" Chloe blanched, mood swinging so fast it was as if someone flipped a switch in her brain.

"For crying out loud," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "Just, come on."

I stood, pulling Chloe up with me as I ignored the wary stares from those around us. I pulled out my wallet and left enough money for the bill, tax- as I had already calculated it once we had ordered- and a generous tip for the poor waitress who had to deal with Chloe's asinine demands. Then, I grabbed Chloe's hand again and rushed the two of us out of the restaurant.

"Derek, stop running. You know my ankles are swollen."

How could I forget? She had been griping about them for the past week along with everything else she was suffering through.

"Where are we going anyways?"

I answered her question by crossing the street and ushering her into the Rite Aid that had been adjacent to the restaurant. With Chloe protesting the entire way, I lead her to the feminine care aisle and searched the length for a specific product.

"I don't know what you're trying to say, Derek, but I have plenty of this stuff at home." Chloe stated bitterly, gesturing towards the plethora of brands and varieties of female products that lined the shelf. "Not that I need any right now. I've been late by about a week."

"I know." I replied. Before Chloe could snap at me for how I possibly knew that, she froze, eyes zeroing in on the two pink boxes I plucked from the shelf. I turned to her and her blue orbs snapped up to meet mine questioningly. I could practically see the gears in her brain whirring as she processed my inclination until it clicked.

"You think I'm-"

"Only one way to find out," I rumbled. To be honest, that was the only thing on my mind. Confirmation. I needed to know if my theory was validated or not. And that was the only thing keeping me somewhat sane through all of this where Chloe clearly wasn't. If I were to think of the pros and cons of each of the two possible outcomes, I probably would have driven myself mad.

Chloe, finally sobering up from her crazed behavior and fitting back into her usual self, nodded and reached for one of the boxes in my hands.

"Wait." I said, pulling them back and flipping them over for inspection. "How do we know which one to use? There are five different kinds."

Chloe pondered it for a moment, looking over the selection presented to us before shrugging.

"How about we choose three of the better ones and try them all? That might give us a more accurate reading."

I agreed and after a moment of reading over the products, we picked out three and Chloe slipped off into the bathroom. I informed the woman at the register and purchased the three products before walking back towards the restrooms and taking a seat in the pharmacy waiting area.

I don't know what was more agonizingly painful to think about. Whether I was right or whether I was wrong. I knew that the easiest path in this situation was leaning towards me being wrong. It was a challenge I wasn't sure that Chloe and I were ready for yet. Hell, I still had yet to show her the ring I had been carrying in my pocket for the past four years, waiting for the right moment, when the both of us knew that we were ready. So, what notion did I have to think that Chloe and I could handle this if I were right?

On the down side, if I was wrong, I knew how much it would affect Chloe. From what I had heard of Jennifer Saunders and read from the letter Chloe shared with me that her Aunt had written her way back when we had escaped Lyle house, she had wanted this more than anything despite the complications she knew were sure to come with it.

And Chloe wasn't much different from her mother.

But, if I was right, I had to think of those same complications that faced Jennifer Saunders, if not more dire consequences considering that, not only was there necromancer blood involved, but werewolf blood as well.

Both were passed genetically.

Before I had too much time to dwell over these things, all the thoughts that the two of us had to put into this regardless of the outcome, Chloe slipped out of the public restroom and slowly made her way towards me, arms pulled behind her back.

I glanced at my watch. Had it been five minutes already? However, I didn't need to know how long it had been since Chloe had gone in to take the tests. I didn't need to see the results or the way Chloe practically glowed as she approached me to know the answer. It was that scent again. Unfamiliar but familiar at the same time. New but also not entirely.

It smelled like Chloe. And it also smelled like me.

"Chloe?" I questioned, standing abruptly and meeting her halfway. She looked up at me, her features strewn in a funny expression as she tried to hide her smile.

"Well, I'm not fat." She whispered. I breathed out a low chuckle and urged for her to tell me already. I knew, but I still had to be sure.

Chloe pulled her hands from behind her back and surfaced three small, white sticks, all flashing dim, pink plus signs like a beacon.

"You're-" I breathed, at a loss for words as I stared at what should have been mere, meaningless products yet, surprisingly, held the life of myself and the girl that I loved in the balance.

"You're going to be a daddy, Derek Souza." Chloe smiled, tears brimming in her eyes once again. Only now, it wasn't from a sudden mood flash produced by a hurricane of hormones.

In the moment, I didn't think about the dangers of mixing a necromancer and a werewolf's genetics. I didn't think about how this could have possibly happened since we had been so careful. I didn't even think about whether we were ready for this or not.

All I could think about was Chloe's words.

'You're going to be a daddy, Derek Souza.'

I met the eyes of my mate and once again found myself confused by her. I was perplexed by how I was the one that she had chosen? She picked me to love, to be with, to make the father of her child. And it was all so surreal and questionable, but I was tired of questioning it.

Abrasively, I cupped Chloe's cheeks and mashed my lips against hers. I faintly heard the clatter of the pregnancy tests hit the linoleum floor as Chloe's hands fisted into the fabric of my dress shirt, kissing me back with the same fervor.

I wasn't going to challenge the idea that Chloe was mine and I was hers anymore. If it was any indication, whether we were ready for it or not, she was carrying my child and that was more than enough of a confirmation to all my theories about us than I ever needed.

Finished! So I pretty much laughed most of the way through as I used just about every stereotypical symptom for pregnancy that I could think of, until Chloe agreed to take the tests and I knew that I had fallen from a comedic fic to a pure smutty one.

Oh well. I still loved writing it. :)

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