"Hand me some more of those pancakes, Cyke."

Scott shook his head and passed the platter of pancakes over to Logan with a grin. "You better save some for 'Ro, my man," he said. "She loves them. . . and she'll kill you if you eat them all."

"I have a feeling she'd forgive Logan anything," Jean replied with a laugh. She poured another glass of orange juice, which was promptly swiped by Kitty.

"Nah. . . not the pancakes," Logan said with mock-seriousness.

Rogue sat down, watching Logan serve up about six pancakes for himself. Her eyes widened a little. "Jeez. . . leave a little for me too, will ya?"

Logan cocked an eyebrow at her and passed her the platter. "What?"

"Ah like pancakes too, ya know."

"So eat 'em. I'm bigger than you, kid. . . need my energy."

Rogue snorted. "Puh-leeze."

Jean sat down between them and reached for the plate of sausages. "Is 'Ro awake, Logan?" she asked, then, "Pass me the syrup please, Scott."

"How can you eat sausages with maple syrup?" Scott asked, making a face.

"Because it's delicious," Jean replied primly. "Logan?"

He shrugged. "She was still asleep when I came down, but then she's been sleeping a lot lately."

He missed the funny look Jean gave him. . . but as everyone else was paying attention to their food, the look was easy not to notice. As if on cue, however, there was a step in the hallway and Ororo's smiling face appeared at the door.

"Good morning, 'Ro," Jean said brightly.

"Morning, Jean," Ororo replied. She slid past them and around the back of Logan's chair, planting a soft kiss on the top of his tousled head. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by the younger kids at the table, and there was some giggling and elbowing. . . promptly squashed by a glowering look from Logan as Ororo sat down.

"Did you save me some pancakes?" Ororo asked.

"Yep," Logan replied, passing the platter to her.

"Hmph," Rogue snorted under her breath. "Not much."

Ororo laughed and served herself some pancakes, sliding the platter down the table as Scott handed her the plate full of sausages.

"Want some?" he asked.

"Sure! I. . . " Ororo's voice trailed off into silence as she took the steaming plate from Scott's outstretched hand. One by one the others at the table stopped, food and forks poised half-way to their mouths, as Ororo gulped and stared at the sausages. Her brown face took on a ghastly color, and she hurriedly dropped the plate to the table with a dull clatter.

"Hey. . . you okay, darlin'?" Logan asked.

"I. . . um. . . " Ororo pushed back her chair and stood quickly. "I don't feel so good. . . " She turned as if to run out the open door, but she never made it. . . another sickly wave washed over her, and before she knew it, she was bent over the trash can beside the sink, retching violently.

"Ewww, gross!" Kitty squealed.

Scott stood up, in full leader mode. "Okay, guys," he barked. "Let's move out of the kitchen." If Ororo hadn't been so sick, she would have howled laughter.

"No problem," Rogue muttered. She pushed away her plate with a grimace and stood up with the other students, all of them filing out as quickly as possible amidst the sounds of Ororo's vomiting.

"Jesus, 'Ro," Logan said softly. He stood up and made as if to move toward her, but he stopped a few feet away in indecision. "What can I do?" he asked.

"Go away," Ororo laughed weakly, her head still hanging over the wastebasket.

Jean grabbed a clean dishrag from the cupboard and soaked it thoroughly with cold water from the tap. She wrung it out, then pressed it into Ororo's hand.

"Thanks, Jean," Ororo murmured. She raised herself shakily and rubbed her face with the damp cloth. "Goddess, I'm so embarrassed."

"Don't be," Jean replied. "Feeling better?"

"A little. . . I'm so sorry, guys," Ororo said. "I've ruined breakfast."

Scott laughed from the doorway. "Don't worry about it, 'Ro. . . I'll just take them out for McDonald's or something. They would rather have that anyway."

Ororo laughed a little with him. "I guess I'm getting the flu," she murmured. "I haven't felt well since I got up."

Jean's eyes narrowed slightly. "Maybe," she said. "I think you should come down to the lab, though. . . so I can take your temperature."

Ororo shook her head. "I'm fine, Jean, really," she said. "I just need to stay away from the smell of food for awhile, I think."

"I think Jean's right, darlin'," Logan said gruffly. He folded his arms over his chest and regarded her with a serious eye. "You haven't been yourself lately, and I'm not the only one that's noticed it. I think you need to let Jean check you out."

Ororo didn't answer. So everyone had noticed. . . but, noticed what? That was the question. . . and Ororo wasn't sure if she wanted the answer.

"Logan's right," Jean was saying. "Come on, 'Ro. . . it'll only take a few minutes."

Ororo sighed. "All right," she said finally.

"Good," Jean replied. "I'll go down and get my things. . . meet me in the lab whenever you're ready."

Ororo and Logan watched Jean bustle out the door, and Ororo shook her head and laughed softly. "That Jean," she said. "She takes everything so seriously. . . it's just a flu bug, I'm sure of it."

Logan came close and slid his arms around her waist. "Even if it's just a bug, maybe Jeannie can give you something to make you feel better."

"Maybe."

Logan brushed a stray hair away from her eyes. "Why so nervous, darlin'?" he asked softly.

"I'm not nervous," Ororo protested.

"Yeah, you are," Logan replied. "Your scent has changed."

She stiffened a little. "Again? My, my. . . I'm a veritable cornucopia of scents, aren't I?"

Logan didn't let her indignation bother him in the slightest. "Something like that," he chuckled. His hand cupped the back of her head gently as he lowered his head to hers for a kiss.

Ororo stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Are you sure you want to kiss me?" she asked sourly. "I might be as contagious as Typhoid Mary."

Logan grinned. "I'll always want to kiss you, beautiful," he said.

And he did.

A few minutes later, Ororo entered the medlab alone, the door sliding silently shut behind her. Logan had made sure that she went, then left her to finish working on the Bentley, leaving her alone to face whatever dire examination Jean had waiting for her.

"There you are!" Jean called. She was in her white lab coat, sitting on a high stool before a small electronic panel. "Have a seat over there," she said, pointing at the examination table.

Ororo made a face. . . she hadn't been on this table since Sabretooth's attack. With a resigned sigh, she hoisted herself onto its hard surface, adjusting herself into some semblance of a comfortable position while waiting for Jean to finish whatever it was she was doing.

"There," Jean said. She stood up, surveyed the readings on the monitor for a moment, then crossed the room to where Ororo sat, her hands on her hips as she eyed the darker woman critically.

"What?" Ororo asked. "You're making me feel like I have two heads."

Jean chewed her lip thoughtfully, then crossed her arms over her chest. "'Ro," she said finally. "How long has it been since your last period?"

Ororo blinked, her mouth falling open slightly. "Goddess. . . not you, too," she said.

Jean smiled a little and pulled up a stool beside the table. "Me too? You mean Logan suspects?"

Ororo shook her head. "No, I meant that. . . well, no, I don't think Logan suspects," she said. She looked down at her hands, twisting nervously in her lap. "I didn't suspect, not really," she added. "Not until this morning."

Jean nodded. "Have you had any other symptoms?"

"Like what?"

"Drowsiness, especially in the evenings. . . a bigger appetite than usual. . . and dizziness, although I think your little episode on the porch a few days ago qualifies as a dizzy spell."

Ororo nodded slowly, and Jean pursed her lips.

"Any soreness in the breasts?" Jean asked.

Again, Ororo nodded.

"Well. . . only one way to find out," Jean said. She stood up and moved to a steel shelf on the other side of the lab, then returned, carrying a small plastic cup.

"What's that for?" Ororo asked suspiciously.

"For you to pee in," Jean laughed. "Isn't this fun?"

"A laugh riot," Ororo remarked grumpily. She slid off the bed and snatched the cup from Jean's fingers. "And a waste of time. . . I'm not pregnant, Jean."

"We'll see," Jean replied. She returned her attention to the now-beeping computer panel as Ororo stomped to the small bathroom beside the lockers. The door snicked closed, and Jean grinned a little to herself at the sounds of grumbling coming from behind the door.

"You act as if this would be a bad thing," Jean said.

"I don't even want to think about it," Ororo replied, her voice muffled by the door.

"But. . . "

"I said, I don't want to think about it," Ororo said testily.

Jean leaned against the panel, facing the bathroom door. "Ororo," she began slowly. "I don't mean to pry, but. . . are you and Logan having problems?"

"No."

"Then why are you so upset by the possibility that you might be pregnant?" Jean asked. "For pete's sake, you're living with the guy! You and Logan could get married. . . God knows, a kid is just the sort of stability someone like Logan needs."

There was a long silence, and then Ororo opened the bathroom door. Jean was about to repeat herself. . . then she caught the stricken look on Ororo's face. "Ororo. . . oh God, what did I say? I'm sorry. . . "

"It's nothing," Ororo replied. She placed the cup on the lab counter beside the diagnostic equipment. "How long will this take?" she asked quietly.

"Only a few minutes," Jean replied. "Why don't you sit down while I do it?"

"Okay." Ororo wandered to a nearby stool, sitting down and staring vacantly across the room. Not pregnant. . . not possible. . . but it was possible, and all the negative mantras in the world wouldn't change a thing if that was what nature had decided.

Jean glanced at her with some concern while setting up the test. "Ororo?" she began tentatively. "Talk to me, please?"

Ororo sighed and rubbed her arms. "I just. . . I don't know what I'll do, Jean," she said softly.

"You mean, whether you would keep it or not?"

Ororo laughed without humor. "No, nothing like that. It's not in my nature. . . the baby would be mine, mine and Logan's, and. . . and I love him. . . regardless of other. . . problems. It's just. . . "

Jean adjusted the test papers, then turned to look at her. "Just what? Are you scared to tell him? Is that it?"

Ororo nodded, her eyes welling with tears.

"Oh, sweetie. . . " Jean hurried to Ororo's side and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, hugging her tightly. "Logan loves you. . . more than anything! How could he not be happy?"

"It would be a burden, Jean," Ororo said. "Logan can't be tied down, not like that. He'd resent me. . . and one way or the other, I'd lose him."

"How can you say that?" Jean asked. "I don't think you're giving Logan enough credit, Ororo. He's an honorable man. . . "

"Yes, he is. . . but that's just the problem," Ororo replied, brushing back tears with her hands. "He would do something stupid, like ask me to marry him or something. . . "

"And that's stupid?!"

"But don't you see, Jean?" Ororo asked. "He would only be doing it out of a sense of duty. . . of honor. He told me once, rather plainly, that he wasn't the marrying kind. . . and I believe him, Jean. . . he's not. But he would ask me anyway, because it's the 'right thing to do.'" She buried her face in her hands. "Oh Goddess. . . he would do it, and then he would learn to hate me. . . for trapping him in a marriage he did not want."

"Oh, 'Ro. . . " Jean murmured. She didn't know what to say. . . Ororo's misery seemed so complete. She hugged her friend tighter, and the two sat quietly as Ororo's soft sobs faded into silence, the only sound the faint hiss and hum of the computers and machines surrounding them.

"What will I do, Jean?" Ororo asked softly.

"For what it's worth, I think you're mistaken," Jean replied. "But maybe you won't have to worry about it. . . the test should be done by now. Let me go look."

Ororo nodded, and Jean stood up and walked the short distance to the counter. She stood there a long moment, her back to Ororo as she studied the results of the test. . . then she turned slowly and faced Ororo, her lips in a tight, rueful smile. Ororo felt her heart do a curious jump, half-way between a leap and a sink of despair.

"I. . . " Jean began, then she shrugged. "I don't know what to say, Ororo, but. . . it's positive."

"Positive?" Ororo asked. "You mean. . . I'm pregnant?"

Jean nodded.

Ororo swallowed hard, fighting to keep the room. . . and her world. . . in focus. "I. . . oh, Goddess. . . "

"Ororo?" Jean hurried back, steadying her with her arms. "Here. . . maybe you should lie down. . . "

"No. . . no, I'm fine," Ororo replied. She crossed her arms over her stomach. . . over her child. . . and forced a laugh. "This is so unreal. . . how long? I mean. . . when is it due?"

Jean shook her head. "It's impossible for me to determine without knowing the exact date of your last menstruation, or without doing an ultrasound, but considering your symptoms, I'd guess that you're at about eight weeks. . . which means it'll be born in the spring."

Tears returned to Ororo's eyes. "Spring. . . " she murmured to herself. "When the apple blossom bloom. . . "

"What was that?" Jean asked.

"Nothing." Ororo stood up, wiping her eyes hastily and trying to return some semblance of order to her face. "I. . . I've got to go, Jean."

Jean stood up with her. "Are you going to tell Logan?" she asked.

"No. . . I mean, not yet," Ororo said. "Don't tell him, Jean, okay?"

"I wouldn't dream of it, 'Ro," she replied. "That's your place to tell him, not mine."

"Promise?"

"I promise," Jean said. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yes. . . yes, I will," Ororo said. "I. . . I just need some time alone. . . to think. This is all so sudden. . . "

"I know it is, 'Ro, but. . . everything will be okay, I'm sure of it," Jean said. She paused a moment, then impulsively embraced Ororo and held her close. "You're like a sister to me, Ororo. . . and all things aside, I couldn't be happier for you. . . or Logan."

Ororo couldn't answer. . . instead, she returned Jean's embrace, then turned and left the lab without a word.