A/N: Wooooooow, it's been a while since I posted a one-shot, never mind how long it's been since I've posted a M-rated one...Well, I had some free time to polish up one I've had floating around for a while, so here you go. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Darkest Powers, I make no money from this, and I think it goes without saying that I am most certainly NOT Kelley Armstrong.

"Derek, I'm pregnant. I'm going to have a baby. I'm with child. You're going to be a daddy." Smoothing my hand over my still-flat stomach, I pulled my button down shirt tight against me and turned sideways to inspect my reflection. Tori had said that my boobs were bigger, but I didn't really see it, not yet anyways. But regardless of whether or not the evidence of my pregancy showed, I was buoyant with mingled joy and terror and filled with amazement. The little life inside me couldn't be bigger than a pea yet, but I already loved it; he or she was a living expression of love, a part of both Derek and I.

Suddenly feeling a little silly standing there in the bathroom, talking to the mirror, I turned away. Eight pregnancy tests and their corresponding boxes and instructions littered the counter around the sink. Four empty water bottles were scattered on the floor; taking all those tests had required more pee than I had thought.

"Ok," I whispered. "This is good news."

Yeah, for a normal couple, maybe. Even though our life looked as outwardly normal as we could make it, Derek and I are far from your usual young married couple. We had to live in the country, which made commuting for work and school a huge pain in the ass. As much as I love our house and the land around it, it would be nice to live in the country by choice and not because my husband turns into a wolf once a week and he needs the privacy and isolation. Well, if I'm honest, the country is a better choice for me, too. The worst thing I've raised lately was a dead barn owl.

Shoving my hands as far through my hair as they would go, I gripped my roots and let my weight drop down onto the edge of the bathtub. This should be a moment for joy, elation, hallelujahs. Instead, I was sitting on the hard, cold edge of the tub, my head in my hands, wondering how in the hell I was going to tell Derek.

"Chloe?" The front door closed and I heard him start meticulously fastening all the locks. Ten years later, north of the Canadian border and without a Cabal or the Edison Group in sight, we were all still careful to the point of obsession. Paranoia is a healthy thing, I reminded myself, looking up.

Stifling a gasp, I threw myself forward, frantically gathering up the detritus of my afternoon of panic.

"Just a sec!" I called in my I'm-not-doing-anything-wrong voice.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice the only thing that let me know he was now at the bottom of the stairs.

"Just finishing up in the bathroom." Stuffing the crumpled boxes into the garbage, I yanked the bag out and tied it shut. "I'll be right down."

True to form, he didn't listen, and I wasn't all that surprised when he appeared in the doorway. My breath caught a little when I looked up at him, and I knew he heard because his gaze sharpened on my face.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Innocent as a newborn babe. I refrained from batting my eyelashes, a move that he now knew meant I was trying to distract him.

He inhaled slowly. "You're afraid," he said softly, his big body tensing for a fight. A tremor ran through him; he was ready to start the Change if needed. One of the tweaks from the Edison Group was that Derek could now Change in less than a minute, a definite perk when necessary.

"It's nothing," I lied, straightening up and moving to him. He reached for me, drawing me in even as he ignored me and scanned the bathroom. "Derek?"

His gaze shifted down to mine for a second. "There's no killer soap dish. I'm ok."

A little smile flitted across his face and he looked around again, relaxing enough to stoop to kiss me. I've only kissed two men in my life, but I'm willing to bet that no one else can kiss like Derek. Dropping the bag to the floor, I stretched up to get my arms around his neck, angling my head and rubbing my lips against his while I shifted my body until I was pressed against him from head to toe.

"Mmm." Warm hands rested above the curve of my backside, his thumbs brushing my skin over the waistline of my jeans as he enjoyed the kiss. "Did you miss me?"

"Always," I breathed into his mouth, letting my heels settle to the floor, which pulled me away from his lips. With a low growl of warning, his hands tightened and he hauled me up and against him again.

I'm pretty sure that most women don't celebrate their confirmation of a pregnancy by having sex before telling their husbands, but in my case, once Derek knew, I'd be lucky if I was allowed to get out of bed for the next few months. It's a case of getting while the getting's good, if you know what I mean.

"Bed." My order was muffled by lips and tongues, but it didn't matter, because he shook his head, not breaking the kiss as he turned and backed me up against the countertop I had just cleared of pregnancy tests.

"Here." A shiver ran down my spine at his tone. He was all pumped up on adrenaline from the perceived threat to me, and Derek on the stress juice is something that every woman should be lucky enough to experience in their lifetime. His focus is always a little unsettling, but his green eyes were like twin lasers in the horrible lighting.

Keeping my eyes open as we kissed, I let him boost me up on the counter. Just to bug him, I kept my legs closed, forcing him to arch forward to keep contact. A soft growl made my heart stutter and then resume its beat, revving like a race car engine.

Two swift moves later, he'd parted my legs and had crowded up between them, his sheer size overwhelming me in a way it hadn't for a long time. I forget just how tall he is, how wide his shoulders are…

As he cupped my behind and pulled me to the edge of the counter, I let my hands cruise the hills and valleys of his neck and shoulders, working my way to the buttons that ran down his chest.

"You don't-" a gasp escaped me as my aching core came up against the hard length of his erection. "You d-d-don't need this," I forced out, my fingers starting to tremble as I fumbled the buttons free. I don't stutter anymore. Well, I don't stutter outside of the bedroom, anyways.

"Nope," he said in agreement, pulling back to let me work, letting his hands do their own cruising up my sides, aiming for the buttons of my shirt. I smiled distractedly as his shirt opened and I could get my hands on the smooth skin of his chest, trace the insanely ripped abs that he's been rocking ever since I met him.

One tearing wrench later, buttons ticking as they hit the floor, my shirt was open, too.

"I liked that shirt," I protested, being a little rough as I yanked his shirt down his arms. It got caught and after another tear, it joined mine on the tiles.

"I'll buy you a hundred more shirts just like it," he murmured, hanging back to look at me.

I grumbled a little. "You'd better."

"Let me make it up to you?" That grin was on his face, the grin that always made my stomach knot and my knees tremble.

It took me a few tries, and I had to lick my dry lips before I could speak, which made his eyes flare even brighter. "Yes."

I guess the best comparison would be getting hit with a huge wave and a wicked undertow at the same time. His hands sank into my hair and he pulled until I was arched back, my grip around his forearms the only thing keeping me from tumbling backwards.

Derek kissed me deep and hard, his tongue sliding purposefully against mine as he ground his hips against me, making me moan. One hand slid free of my hair and cupped my breast high and hard against me, his fingers curling over the edge of my bra and pulling it down.

His hot mouth was against mine and then suddenly it was working down my neck and his other hand slipped down my back to the clasp, flicking it free with practiced ease as he closed his teeth gently around my aching nipple.

The sweet, stinging pain brought my brain back online. I had to tell him, the news was burning a hole in my mind.

"D-derek," I started, breaking off with a sigh as he suckled softly then harder, knowing exactly how to drive me crazy. "Stop," I gasped, pushing at his shoulders until he backed off, staring at me like I'd lost my mind. Frankly, I wondered if I had, too. Never in all our time together had either of us ever stopped once clothes started coming off.

"What's wrong?" Oh, my beloved husband, ever the pessimist.

"I have some news." After adjusting my bra, I wrapped my fingers over the edge of the counter and gripped until it hurt, trying to focus.

He watched me warily, that preternatural awareness a little unsettling. "Okaaaay…"

One deep breath. "I- uh, I'm pregnant."

Absolute and utter silence. I don't even think he breathed. I know I didn't; my whole body seized up while I waited for his reaction. He just stood there, looking at me, and I felt my gut twist. His lack of reaction lit off a panicked flare and I felt my breath hitch a little as the litany of fear started in my head.

Oh God he doesn't want our baby he's going to leave he's going to ask me to have an abortion what am I going to do I can't do it I won't do it I love him or her already and- and-

Derek's arms closed around me, my arms instinctively coming up to circle his neck as he spun me around, whooping, a huge grin on his face.

"A baby!" he crowed, then suddenly looked stricken. He jolted to a halt, staring at me with wide eyes. "A baby. Jesus. Did I hurt you?"

He pulled away, scanning me up and down to check for obvious injuries, then scooped me up and carried me into the bedroom, depositing me on the bed with the same care the bomb squad uses to move explosives. My head was spinning with relief and confusion, and I pulled him down next to me, curling against him, face in his neck.

"Chloe?" he asked, one hand running down my hair, then further, his palm hot on my bare back. I gulped and tried to swallow back the tears before looking up. "Kitten, don't cry."

The soft, sweet tone coupled with the pet name he rarely uses just melted me, literally. Tears overflowed and streaked down his chest. "I thought you'd be mad."

He sighed, cuddling me closer. "Well, it's definitely a surprise, but we haven't exactly been careful lately." He pulled back a bit, and I tilted my chin up to look at him. "Chloe, how could you think I'd be mad?"

I snuffled a laugh, wiping my palms across my face. "I don't know. I just thought that it's more stress on us, and we don't know what'll happen with mixing two races like this and if anyone finds out there'll be a bigger bounty on them than on Kate and Logan."

My words tumbled out one on top of the other, my throat tightening again with worry. I haven't wished for normalcy in a very long time, but right now, all I wanted was to be Chloe, boring normal Chloe, married to boring normal Derek and celebrating the news of my pregnancy without awful images of mutant babies dancing in my mind.

"Enough." Derek's voice was firm and he gave me the gentlest of shakes. "This is great news, it's something to celebrate. Everything else, well, we'll deal with it as it comes. Stress can't be good for you right now."

Knowing he was right, I took a breath and focused on nuzzling his neck, lingering on the hollow at the base of his throat until I felt his pulse speed up. He shifted a little, trying to put some distance, but I followed, my hands reaching around behind me to free the clasp of my bra.

"We should call Dad," he blurted, still trying to evade me. "And Simon."

Yanking at the tie on my yoga pants, I nodded, following him as he eased across the bed. "Of course. And Aunt Lauren and Tori, too."

"Yes," he said, a little desperately, hands outstretched to fend me off. "Right now."

"Later," I murmured, stripping off pants and underwear in one fell swoop, smiling devilishly when his eyes skimmed me but then couldn't look away.

"I think we should call them now."

I sidled up to him, took his face between my hands and kissed him in a way I knew he adored, hot and wet and a little desperate. I threw in a soft little whimper just to assure my victory. With a low growl, he responded, mouth opening under mine, his fingers sliding between my thighs and moving in those feather-light touches that take my breath.

"Later," I rasped, already undoing the button at the waistband of his pants.

"Later," he agreed finally, rolling me under him and pressing a kiss to my abdomen. "Or maybe tomorrow."

Dizzy with happiness, our baby between us and my husband prowling up my body with a predatory air, I arched back into the pillows with a contented sigh.

"Yes. Tomorrow."