Title: Pro/Con

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Characters: Rory/Dean (future)

A/N: This is a future portion of the Redemptive!Dean verse that I've been working on. I was going to wait to post it in its proper place but I made the mistake of sending it to geminigrl11 for a laugh and she's making me post as is, right now. It's not necessary to read the other fics in the verse, but it is necessary to know that Dean and Rory are happily together in this fic and clearly have been for awhile. Um, it's kind of unbeta'ed, so I guess mistakes are mine :)

Summary: And if we keep waiting, next thing you know, your swimmers are low in numbers and my eggs are hit and miss and we're wanting to shop in the cabbage patch and settling for cats.

-o-

"We need to have kids."

"Yeah, we decided that you'd focus on the paper first. Get it going, increase the numbers, maybe the staff size, and then--"

"No," Rory said. "We need to have kids now."

"Now?"

"Now. We're not getting any younger," Rory said, feeling panic rising inside of her. "We're pushing thirty. Thirty. That means we're rapidly reaching the end of our prime child bearing years."

Dean just looked confused. "I think we'll be okay for a bit longer."

"No," Rory said, quite seriously. "Once you hit thirty, it's all downhill from there. At the age of thirty, fertility plummets. By the time you're 35, we'd be lucky to conceive even if we had sex fifteen times a day."

Interest flashed in Dean's eyes at that, but that quickly passed back toward tentative confusion. "We're not thirty yet, though."

"Not yet. But we're close," Rory said. "And if we keep waiting, next thing you know, your swimmers are low in numbers and my eggs are hit and miss and we're wanting to shop in the cabbage patch and settling for cats. God, cats. We'd have to get cats and dress them up in outfits and we'd turn out like Babette and Maury. Have you seen Babette and Maury?"

"Uh, yeah."

"You even have that freakishly tall thing like Maury does and I don't even like cats that much."

"We could get a dog."

Rory threw her hands in the air. "A dog? You think we want a dog? We'd have to get some stupid lapdog that looked like a furball and we'd call it Bon Bon and write about her in our Christmas cards. We can't be like that. I don't want to be like that. So we have to have kids now. Right now."

"Rory, I really think you need to calm down," Dean said and his voice was soft in that gentle way of his, easy and placating but she was far too gone for that.

She was up and grabbing at him, pulling on his arm. "Nope, no calming down. I'll calm down after you give me your sperm."

Dean looked a little disturbed by that one, refusing to budge. "Um, what?"

"Sperm. Now. I prefer to take them voluntarily, but these are desperate times."

Laughing uncomfortably, Dean said. "Uh, that's not very romantic."

"Romance? I don't care about romance. I care about your swimmers and my eggs and I took my temperature today and you know what? I'm ovulating. Right now. As we speak. So we must go. Now."

"Now? Right now? Are you sure you're not going to change your mind about this?"

"Which is exactly why you need to get a move on and make me a baby before one, I change my mind and two, before my egg passes and we miss out for another month--a month, Dean. 30 days further past my prime."

"Uh, are you sure? Usually you think things through a little more. I mean, what about making a--?"

"Pro/con list? What do you think this is?" Rory asked, picking up her legal pad.

"Honey, that's a piece of paper that says, END OF FERTILE YEARS."

"Exactly!"

"Um."

"Upstairs. You. Now. Preferably naked but I'll take you any way I get you as long as I have easy access to the equipment."

"Sometimes you scare me."

"You're going to say no to sex?"

"Rory."

"I thought so."