Myers' strange behavior started with little things. He no longer participated in one on one spars with fellow agents, his coffee was replaced with decaf, and his usual suits gave way to hoodies, sweats, and sneakers. Then John started becoming easier to anger and easier to drag to bed. The man's sexual appetite had never been meager in any sense of the word, but his usual reluctance simply vanished. He even began to initiate a few of their romps. It was getting to the point where Hellboy took to hiding from his lover when that particular look stole across his face.

Then came the weird things. John never cleaned the litter boxes before, claiming that the chore kept Hellboy from getting too lazy in their downtime and taught him at least a little bit of responsibility, but now he refused to even step foot inside Hellboy's room until they were relocated somewhere else - and the cats as well. Hellboy's stubbornness lasted for a week before he had a major case of blue balls (really, they were more purple than anything) and he booted the cats and all their accessories to a room just down the hall. The sex that followed was fantastic.

Shortly after, disgusting combinations of food started appearing on his meal carts. Along with the thirty-two hotdogs and gallon of coleslaw was a bowl of vanilla ice cream topped with bread and butter pickles. John scarfed it down faster than Hellboy ever ate pamcakes. He was careful when grabbing any sort of casserole now, especially after he mistakenly took a scoop of some unholy mixture that looked like it included baked beans, Reese's Pieces, and eggs.

A couple of months into this odd behavior, John's normally placid, if stubborn, nature began to seesaw from one extreme to another. Mentioning any sort of mistake the man made threw him into a hissy fit even the cats avoided and whistling the wrong tune sent him into an hour long bawl session. More than once Hellboy had needed to defend himself against Liz and Abe when John started crying for no reason at all.

After three days of avoiding John to prevent anymore crying fits, Hellboy realized that no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't stay away from the young agent for more than a few hours. John smelled so good. He hesitantly asked if the agent had changed colognes recently, and instead of the expected explosion of tears and screams, Hellboy was bewildered by the ten-thousand kilowatt smile he got in response.

John blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, you smell it then?" The agent giggled. "The book said you would, but I wasn't sure it was true." Any other attempts to figure out what the hell was going on were met with shy laughs and blushing silences.

The answer was dropped on him while helping Abe out one day. The icthyosapien was attempting to put together a wood and metal contraption that made who-knew-what and neither of them could make head or tails of the instructions.

"Alright, so peg A-three connects this bracket to…post C?" Abe fumbled with the mess of pieces, trying to figure out which way the parts fit together. "Why couldn't these instructions be written in Latin? They'd be much easier to understand."

"Sure they would. Hey, Blue, you know what's going on with Myers? He's been acting funny for months. Yesterday he cleaned out that storage area in my room and started painting the walls green today. He's getting weirder and weirder everyday."

"Nothing is wrong with him, really," Abe answered absently, eyes focused on the useless instructions. "If anything, everything is right with him." Slender blue fingers deftly turned a screw tight into place. "Ah, there we go! He's just experiencing nesting. It's very common in individuals in his condition. It'll only get worse until the time comes."

Hellboy's heart dropped straight to his toes. "Until what time comes? He's not going to die, is he Blue?!"

Abe looked just as startled as Hellboy was. "Die? Why of course not, what makes you say that?" He studied his friend closely and understanding dawned on his face. "Oh, dear. I'm afraid in all the excitement no one remembered to tell you the news."

"What news, Blue? Ah, jeez, he really is dying, isn't he?"

"John is perfectly fine, Red. As healthy as can be. Hellboy…" Abe's breathing apparatus gurgled as he took a deep breath. "John's pregnant with your child. He's approximately four months along."

Hellboy felt like he'd just stepped through the looking glass. "Pregnant?"

"Yes, pregnant."

"You sure?"

Abe laughed. "Well, I'm certainly not building another bookshelf here. Did you even look at the box, Red?"

Hellboy looked and, sure enough, the front was covered in a picture of a crib, complete with blue lining and white frills. Abe was calling his name, but it sounded like it was coming from a great distance. As Hellboy watched, the icthyosapien tilted sideways, then the floor rushed up to meet him and Hellboy's vision went black.

Abe stared down at his friend, more than a little amused. "It's probably for the best that he didn't find out until now. He's going to be unbearable when he wakes up. I hope John's prepared to hovered over for he next five months."