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[personal profile] tanaquiljall
Title: Fertile Ground
Fandom: Jericho
Rating: Teen
Contains: mutual dub-con, discussion of rape, mpreg
Words: 17,755 words
Summary: A sequel to If Y = X then...., set a few months after the end of S2. Jericho and Beck’s troops are holding out against a besieging force from the Allied States of America. A biological weapon sent by Cheyenne has resulted in Jake and Stanley finding themselves in female bodies. As Kenchy, the town's only doctor, looks for a way to turn them back, the change begins to have an effect on those around them.
Disclaimer: This story is based on the Junction Entertainment/Fixed Mark Productions/CBS Paramount Television series Jericho. It was written for entertainment only; the author does not profit from it nor was any infringement of copyright intended.
Author's Note: This story is part of the Genderswap!verse being written by Scribbler ([livejournal.com profile] scribblesinink) and Tanaqui ([livejournal.com profile] tanaquific). Thanks to Scribbler ([livejournal.com profile] scribblesinink) for the beta. It was written for [livejournal.com profile] mpregbb and the lovely art was created by the talented [livejournal.com profile] knowmefirst. You can see all the art at [livejournal.com profile] knowmefirst's masterpost.

Fertile Ground Banner


Jake snuck a look at the man sitting stiffly across from him at the Richmonds’ kitchen table. The stilted small talk they’d been making about the latest intelligence from the patrols and how soon the first crops could be harvested had petered out five minutes before. Now Beck was staring off into the middle distance, a slight frown on his face.

Jake cleared his throat. “You don’t have to be here, you know.”

Beck stirred and turned to look at Jake, his eyes focusing as if he’d had to drag his thoughts back from a long way off. His gaze met Jake’s for a moment and then slid away. “I know.” He gave a slight shrug of the shoulder. “I just thought you could use the company while Stanley and Mimi are at the clinic.”

Jake didn’t think Beck was exactly proving much company but—.

He had to admit it felt a little less lonely to have Beck around. Though a regular hum drifted up from the camp at the bottom of the hill where Beck’s troops were quartered, there was something about being out here at the farm on his own, in quarantine, that made Jake feel like the last man on earth. Last woman: it was a week since he and Stanley had found and accidentally triggered the device sent by the Cheyenne government. A week since they’d been… transformed.

Jake took another look down at himself: at the breasts whose shapes were clearly visible even through the loose T-shirt he wore, lifting the material in ways that still made him do a double take every time he glanced down. And below that, there was an alarming lack of what should be there. Jake’s cock and balls had vanished entirely, replaced by… other bits. The female ones. And while Jake might forget about having boobs a lot of the time, he was constantly aware of the absence of anything between his legs: not just when he had to take a piss, but walking or sitting or lying down. It was just wrong, like losing an arm. There’d been other changes, too, but they hadn’t been quite so dramatic—or quite so unnerving—as the change of equipment.

What he’d lost had been pretty obvious from the outset, of course. However, Kenchy had only been able to confirm exactly what Jake had gained—apparently everything needed to have a baby—once Jake had finally let him carry out an internal exam. The doc had suggested one the first day, when an initial ultrasound had indicated Jake probably now had a uterus and ovaries, but Jake’s face must have clearly communicated his horror at the thought of having anything stuck up there right now. He’d finally conceded that it was necessary during the course of the previous day, which he’d spent at the Med Center being gently prodded and poked as Kenchy ran more tests that would help him figure out what was going on and if it would wear off on its own. Or if they’d be stuck this way permanently.

Today was Stanley’s turn. Mimi had gone along as well, so Kenchy could draw some blood from her. Although the doctor had determined that neither Jake nor Stanley appeared to be able to transmit the condition—it seemed to require direct and fairly immediate exposure to the agent in Cheyenne’s device—Mimi had been in much closer contact with Stanley than anyone else.

Beck had turned up with the humvee sent to take Stanley and Mimi to the Med Center, and invited himself in.

Jake took another covert look at Beck as the major sipped the coffee Jake had made for them. Over the past week, he’d been slowly forced to agree with Heather that, for all Beck had done some terrible things, he was a good man at heart. He’d done his best to give Jake and Stanley privacy and dignity: when he’d noticed how uncomfortable the two of them were with the behavior of the soldiers assigned to enforce the quarantine—they either ogled them openly or refused to look at them at all—he’d moved the guard units further away from the farm. He’d also assigned one of his female officers, Lieutenant McCoy, to liaise with them.

Once Beck had gotten over his own initial shock, he’d also spoken to the two of them as if they were just the same as always, making eye contact and making sure his gaze didn’t wander. Though, Jake reflected, draining his own coffee cup, Beck seemed to be having a few problems with that today.

“You want some more coffee?” Jake gestured with his cup toward the thermos into which he’d decanted the rest of the pot of coffee he’d brewed.

“Yes, but—please. Stay where you are. Let me.” Beck was on his feet and moving toward the kitchen counter and the thermos before Jake had a chance to do more than blink. Jake shook his head, wondering at Beck’s solicitousness. Surely Beck would expect to be waited on rather than be the one fetching coffee? Though now Jake thought about it, he remembered a few occasions when he’d seen Beck settle Heather in the office that he sometimes used at City Hall and then be the one to head off and bring them back coffee. He guessed Beck had a particular—and deeply ingrained—way of dealing with civilian women: a kind of old-fashioned chivalry. And, right now, it seemed like Jake looked enough like a woman that Beck’s conditioning was kicking in.

Beck was back with the flask, unscrewing the lid. Jake held out his mug, not looking at him but muttering an embarrassed thanks.

Beck put the lid of the flask down on the table and reached out to steady the mug. His fingertips grazed over Jake’s—and a tingle of electricity passed between them. Jake looked up, startled, and met Beck’s eyes, wide-eyed with equal surprise. Then another jolt of of electricity came as Beck tightened his grip on the mug and his fingers brushed against Jake’s again.

Swallowing hard, Jake wrenched his gaze away. As he did so, he heard Beck exhale. He felt like his own breathing had stopped, light-headed as he was with the sudden sense of Beck standing close to him: the strong, hardened body under the fatigues; Beck’s fresh, musky scent underlying the harsh carbolic notes of soap; his fingers lightly touching Jake’s….

What the—?

Jake finally remembered to breathe as Beck finished filling the cup and let go of it, stepping away to replenish his own mug. Jake put the cup down and stared at it, careful not to look up and risk catching Beck’s eye again. It was this damn body and whatever the hell had been in that powder he and Stanley had gotten a faceful of, wasn’t it? It had to be. Kenchy had told him his hormones were all over the place, so this was probably just another side-effect: cause more chaos by turning the victims into lust-crazed idiots. Because, Beck? Really?

Jake risked another glance at the other man. He was over at the sink, taking his time rinsing out the now-empty flask. He reckoned Beck had felt the spark between them too and wasn’t any happier about it than Jake.

Turning his mind back, Jake realized there’d been other moments in the past week when he’d found himself noticing— before he’d quickly clamped down on the thought—that Beck was… attractive. But this was the first time the two of them had spent more than quarter of an hour in each other’s company since Jake’s transformation, so probably they hadn’t been together long enough previously for this thing to build the way it had today. Probably they should make sure they didn’t spend this long together again. And Jake was very certain shouldn’t spend any more time with each other right now.

Casting about for an excuse to head outside—there was always some chore needed doing on a farm—Jake got to his feet. “I should—.”

Beck had finished cleaning the flask and taken a step away from the sink. He and Jake were close, Jake looking down at him, just like he’d been looking up at him a few minutes earlier. And then—.

Jake never knew quite how it happened, except one minute they were standing there and the next they were in each other’s arms. Beck was kissing him and he was kissing Beck back, aware of just how good he tasted. Beck’s hands were twined in Jake’s hair, drawing Jake’s mouth down onto his, and Jake’s hands were on Beck’s hips, pulling the shorter man fiercely against him. Feeling him harden against where Jake had that emptiness, that lack. That was aching now for Beck to fill it. Needing Beck to fill it. Needing now, god, yes, now….

Fertile Ground Separator

A hair tickling Beck’s nose brought him half-awake. Alondra, he thought, pulling the woman spooned against him closer with the arm wrapped around her. Then something in his brain registered that she didn't feel right or smell right, that it wasn't his wife he was lying in bed with. His eyes shot open and he pulled away, a soft, horrified, "No!" escaping his lips.

The woman stirred, clearly disturbed by the movement, and rolled onto her back so he could see her face. His horror increased as the full memory of the previous few hours flooded back and he realized exactly who he was in bed with.

"Oh crap." Though the words were was pitched in feminine tones, the expression in them was unmistakeably all Jake.

Beck pulled away further, scuttling across the bed as he backed off from Jake, until he was able to turn away and, swinging his legs round, sit up. He snatched at a handful of sheet as he did so, pulling it across his lap, as he realized he was completely naked. His clothes, he saw, were scattered untidily across the floor in a trail that stretched to the door leading to the living room. He dimly remembered Jake helping him shed them as they’d frenziedly pulled each other towards the bed. He put his head in his hands and groaned. What had he done?

From behind him, he heard Jake snort before he said, sounding mildly bemused. "Well, that was… kinda dumb."

Beck squeezed his eyes shut, trying to make sense of what had happened. What had he done? He was supposed to have been helping Jake and instead…. They’d ended up in bed together. How could he have let that happen? Even if he’d had feelings for Jake the way Jake was now—and he had, hadn’t he? He’d been perfectly aware of them, though he’d done his best to ignore them. Even so: how could he have let himself act on that? How could he have lost control like that? "I'm sorry," he mumbled, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry. I should never—. ” He took a deep breath and tried again. “I’m sorry. What I did was… inexcusable. I should have…. I shouldn’t have let this happen. I should never have lost control like that.”

"Hey." Beck felt the bed shift as Jake sat up. “Don’t beat yourself up. Kenchy says I’m pumping out all kinds of weird stuff. If this is anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

Beck turned his head to look at Jake, ready to deny it. Jake couldn’t help what he’d been turned into or what he’d done while under the influence of Cheyenne’s bioweapon, whereas Beck…. He was a grown man who should surely be able to exercise a little self-control. The apology died on his lips as he looked at Jake. He was propped up on one elbow, the sheet snaking across his hips, and above that…. Beck found his gaze drawn in unwilling fascination to Jake’s breasts, which were neither large nor small but had, he remembered, fitted perfectly into the palm of his hand as he’d cupped them. Remembered, too, how the nipples had hardened as he’d brushed his thumbs over them and how Jake had moaned as he’d bent his head to tease them with his lips. How—.

Beck closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “Do you think we could put some clothes on? Please?”

“What?” Jake sounded surprised. Then he huffed a wry laugh. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. Not exactly used to needing to….”

The bed lifted as Jake got out of it on the far side. Beck kept his eyes closed as he heard the other man move around the room for a couple of minutes. Eventually, he felt Jake stop in front of him. “It’s okay. You can look now. I’m respectable again.” Beck cautiously opened his eyes. Jake had scooted back into his jeans and T-shirt and was holding out Beck’s clothes that he must have collected up. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Beck took the bundle of clothes and awkwardly began to put them on, while Jake retreated to the far side of the bed and sat down with his back to Beck.

He felt a little better once he was properly dressed again, more like himself and less like the animal who’d practically ripped Jake’s clothes off in his desperation to have sex with him. But he was still that animal, wasn’t he? Because if he’d lost control, then that meant—. He swallowed hard. I’m a rapist, he forced himself to think.

He looked down at his hands in his lap, wondering how he’d become capable of the things he’d done. How, apparently not content with torture, he’d decided to add rape to his list of crimes. Whether this darkness had always been inside him. And though Jake might have told him not to beat himself up, that didn’t mean he didn’t owe Jake an apology. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’m sorry that I forced myself on you like that.”

“You…?” Jake sounded startled. There was a moment’s silence, before he spoke again. “I don’t remember you forcing me to do anything. In fact,” he snorted. “I think it was pretty much the other way around.”

Beck supposed Jake had a point. He had seemed just as frantic at the time: Beck remembered now that he’d been the one to drag them into the bedroom and that he’d seemed just as eager to help Beck out of his shirt and pants as Beck had been to shed them. That still didn’t make what Beck had done right.

They sat in silence, Beck trying to figure out what to say next. Since Jake seemed so determined to deny Beck had done anything wrong—and maybe that was what he needed to think, for his own peace of mind—but it wasn’t something Beck could or would agree with.

At last, Jake heaved a sigh. “Look—.” Twisting, Beck saw Jake was sitting with his head bent, his eyes turned down to where his fingers were splayed on the crumpled bedsheets. Jake’s long lashes were dark against his lightly tanned skin and Beck couldn’t help thinking, again, that he made a good-looking woman; he bit down on the urge to go sit next to him and put his arm around him and pull his head into the crook of his neck and tell him everything would be all right.

Jake was still talking and Beck focused on his words, trying to catch up. “Look, I’m not saying what we did wasn’t a bad idea. But I wasn’t saying no to it at the time, okay? I wanted it as much as you did. Which is to say, I reckon we both got whammied.” He gave a slight shrug. “Kenchy said I’m completely overloaded with hormones, female hormones, and that’s probably making me a little crazy. And I’m probably pumping out a bunch of, whatdyoumacallits, pheromones. So they’re making you a little crazy as well. And, well—” He shot a sideways glance at Beck. “—it’s not as if you’d exactly be my first choice to, you know….” He gestured at the bed between them.

Beck’s mouth went dry and his heart started beating a little faster as he held Jake’s gaze for a moment, before he dragged his eyes away, angry with himself. Dammit. “Pheromones,” he muttered, licking his lips. “Right. That’s still no excuse for—.”

He squeezed his eyes closed again, trying to block out the memory of how, once the first frenzy was over and they’d collapsed against each other, his craving for the other man hadn’t ended. How he’d begun slowly exploring Jake’s body with his mouth and hands, and how Jake had responded eagerly to his lips and fingertips. There would have been plenty of opportunity for Jake to say no, stop, and for Beck to respect that, so maybe Jake was right, and it hadn’t been rape. No, Beck thought, shivering, it had been the two of them together discovering what felt good for Jake until—. Beck shook his head sharply, not sure he much liked where that train of thought was going either. That maybe a frenzy of hormones and pheromones couldn’t explain that part.

Clearing his throat, he said firmly, “Well, whatever happened, we need to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Amen to that.” Jake laughed wryly. “And I’m guessing neither of us wants to file a report about this?”

Beck gave a sharp nod and said curtly, “I don’t think that will be necessary, no. But I think it would be wise for me not make any more unchaperoned visits in future.”

“Uh-huh.” Out of the corner of his eye, Beck could see Jake nodding.

There didn’t seem to be anything more to say. Feeling like it would be a mistake to linger, Beck got to his feet and headed for the door, not risking a look back at Jake.

He was reaching for the door handle when Jake spoke his name. He waited, his hand poised, for whatever the other man wanted to say. He seemed to be struggling to find the right words but at last he said quietly, “Look, it was a bad idea but… it wasn’t bad, okay? Don’t… don’t give yourself a hard time about that part.”

Beck gave another a quick nod of acknowledgment and then wrenched the door open. He wasn’t sure whether Jake had just made things better or worse.

Fertile Ground Separator

Perched on a stool in the small path lab at the Medical Center, Kenchy made another mark on the chart in front of him, recording the latest results from Jake’s blood work-up. The place didn’t have much in the way of facilities—and it wasn’t as if pathology was his specialty anyway—but in the first week or so after Jake and Stanley had been transformed, he’d managed to cobble together the means to carry out a few key tests. Enough that he’d felt he could get some kind of handle on what was going on.

Well, as much as any doctor could when faced with patients who’d appeared to completely change sex over the course of just a few hours, right down to developing an entire female reproductive system. And then, four weeks later, begun to change back again just as spontaneously, if rather more slowly. Much to everyone’s relief, and especially Kenchy’s, as he hadn’t made any real progress towards finding a “cure” in the intervening month.

With any luck, he’d told himself, the whole thing would be over soon and they could all pretend it had never happened.

Right….

Sitting up and stretching his aching back, he flicked his gaze between Stanley’s chart, spread out on the workbench to his left, and Jake’s, lying in front of him. Stanley’s chart showed his blood chemistry returning to something like normal, just like his body: the lines tracking various hormones sloped steadily downward, before leveling off. Jake’s chart, on the other hand….

Kenchy closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with his fingertips as he tried to make sense of the data. Sure, Stanley had begun transforming back first. Maybe because he’d received a lower dose of Cheyenne’s drug or maybe because his metabolism had processed it more quickly. But Jake had only been a day or so behind. Yet the lines on Jake’s chart marched steadily across the page, showing no real change. This week’s results continued the trend, remaining stubbornly high.

It was almost as if Jake’s body had some reason to go on producing estrogen and progesterone. Almost as if….

Kenchy shook his head, dismissing the possibility. Once the two men had begun transforming back, he’d carried out physical exams at least twice a day for several days, including a daily ultrasound. He’d been able to see their ovaries slowly descending and reshaping themselves back into testicles, while their uteruses had shrunk and their flesh had reformed itself into penises. All the physical changes the two men had experienced had been reversed: Jake and Stanley had both reassured him that, as far as they could tell, everything looked much the same as it had before. And yet….

Kenchy opened his eyes and took another look at Jake’s chart. The idea was preposterous, of course, but it would be easy enough to find out one way or the other—and negligent not to run the test.

Levering himself to his feet, he headed into the pharmacy next door and searched along the shelves until he found what he was looking for. Picking up one of the boxes and turning it over in his hands, he decided there was no need to let Jake know what he was testing for in advance, even if that might put him on ethically shaky ground. No need to worry Jake unnecessarily. He just needed to eliminate the possibility for his own peace of mind, before getting down to figuring out what was really going on.

Fertile Ground Separator

Jake sat on the edge of the gurney, waiting for Kenchy to finish running tests on the urine sample he’d just provided. Provided in the way he’d done all his life, except for that month or so during which he’d been transformed—a month that was now starting to seem like a distant bad dream.

Still, giving the sample had reminded Jake how very glad he was to be back in his own body again. How glad he’d been to be able to get back to the routine of patrols and smuggling runs and clandestine meetings with agents from Texas. He hadn’t even minded the jokes he and Stanley had gotten from the other Rangers once Kenchy had finally given them the all-clear and released them from quarantine. He’d just been relieved to be himself again.

A sigh from Kenchy made Jake look up. The doc had his back to him and was staring down at something on the workbench in front of him. As Jake watched, he gave another heavy sigh and shook his head, before reaching for a packet wrapped in white plastic and ripping it open. Jake guessed he didn’t like the test results and was either repeating the test or trying something different.

Jake’s gut clenched. He’d known for more than a week that Kenchy was worried about him—more than Stanley—despite his repeated assurances to the doc that he felt just fine. Still, Kenchy hadn’t seemed that worried, prepared to take a wait-and-see approach. If the doc did have any theories about what was going on, he’d kept them to himself.

Whatever the second test was, it didn’t take long. Jake was still wondering whether he should say something when Kenchy, with a sharp nod of the head, turned away from the workbench.

“Everything okay?” Jake was pretty sure it wasn’t by the way Kenchy wouldn’t meet his eye. His insides twisted again.

“I—.” Kenchy cleared his throat. “I’d like to carry out another abdominal ultrasound. So if you could just take off your jeans and hop up to the bed….” His tone was a shade too casual for comfort.

Jake raised his eyebrows. He really didn’t like where this was going at all. “An ultrasound? I thought you said our insides were back to normal.”

“I did.” Kenchy was wheeling the ultrasound cart over from the corner. Something about the way he answered told Jake that Kenchy was now pretty sure he was wrong about that. A trickle of cold fear ran down Jake’s spine, holding him where he was.

Kenchy still hadn’t made eye contact with Jake but he’d obviously noticed Jake wasn’t doing as he’d asked. “Please.” He gestured toward the gurney.

Jake hesitated for a moment longer and then, feeling like he was moving through molasses, complied, stripping off his jeans and settling back against the raised up end of the gurney. From where he lay, he couldn’t see the screen on the ultrasound.

He flinched at the chill of the gel on his skin as Kenchy coated his stomach with it and then began to work the scanner methodically down from just below Jake’s ribs, peering intently at the screen as he went. Jake thought about asking him what he was looking for, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, so he kept silent.

Kenchy was about half way down Jake’s abdomen when he froze. After a moment, he shifted the scanner a little—and then froze again. Jake saw his eyes were wide with shock.

“Doc?”

Kenchy didn’t respond, just went on staring at the screen. Jake wasn’t even sure he’d heard him. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to imagine what could have startled the doctor like this, after all he’d seen. “Doc?” he tried again, his voice hoarse. “Kenchy? What it it?”

When Kenchy still didn’t reply, Jake reached out a hand and swung the ultrasound cart round so he could see the screen himself. It didn’t help: all he saw was a blur of gray and white shapes. He glanced up at Kenchy. “What am I looking at?”

Moving the cart seemed to have shaken the other man out of his trance. Meeting Jake’s gaze, he swallowed. Then he leaned forward so he could see the screen again. He must have moved the hand with the scanner without meaning to, because he took a moment to reposition it before pointing with his free hand. “There.”

Jake saw a rough crescent shape inside a larger dark oval. Part of the crescent seemed to be pulsating rapidly. He still wasn’t sure he understood. He wasn’t sure he wanted to understand. “What—?”

“I’m sorry, Jake.” Kenchy hesitated for a moment and that was clue enough to let Jake to know what he was going to say an instant before he said it. “You’re pregnant.”

Fertile Ground Separator

“You’re what?” Stanley stared disbelievingly at Jake where he sat on the couch, hunched over with his head in his hands. When he’d turned up at the farmhouse a few minutes earlier, looking like he’d seen a ghost and saying he needed to talk, this was the last thing Stanley had expected to hear.

“Pregnant,” Jake repeated, slightly more loudly but still sounding like he could barely get the word out. Which Stanley could understand.

“How?” Stanley glanced across at Mimi for a second and saw her expression mirrored his own incredulity.

“You know.” Jake scrubbed his hands across his face wearily. “The usual way.”

Stanley scratched the back of his neck, trying to figure out what he meant. “Uh, Jake, you’re a guy…..”

“Yes, but—” With a heavy sigh Jake, Jake let his hands drop, resting his arms on his knees. He kept his head bent, so Stanley still couldn’t see his face properly. “—for a while there I wasn’t, remember? And then…. There was some sex….” The last came out barely audible.

“What?” Stanley couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How could Jake have been so stupid? He shot another quick look at Mimi. Sure, when he’d been changed, he and Mimi had… well, you know. But that had been Mimi—and it wasn’t as if there’d been any chance of long-lasting consequences.

Jake lifted his head and glared at Stanley. “I had sex,” he repeated, a little more loudly than was strictly necessary. “While I was a woman. And now I’m pregnant.”

“Who? When?” Stanley managed to bite back the Why? Because he didn’t think he wanted to know the answer to that.

Jake’s gaze slid away. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it m—.” Stanley broke off at a touch on the arm from Mimi. She shook her head at him, telling him she’d handle things. Taking a seat in the armchair, she reached out and put her hand over Jake’s

“Jake?” She tilted her head, trying to catch his eye. “Did someone, you know…? Did they… make you?”

Stanley didn’t quite understand what Mimi was asking, but apparently Jake did. He’d been looking down at Mimi’s hand lying on top of his, but now he swung his head up, a startled expression on his face. “What? No!” He shook his head. “No, it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t…. That wasn’t what happened.”

Mimi held Jake’s gaze, her expression doubtful. “Because, you know, that wouldn’t be your fault. Sometimes—.”

Stanley suddenly caught up with what Mimi and Jake were talking about. He took a step closer to the two of them. “Hang on a minute. Are you saying some bastard raped Jake?”

Jake’s “No!” mingled with Mimi’s “Stanley, please—!”

“Because when I find the bastard,” Stanley swung away, heading for the kitchen and the shotgun stored on top of the china cabinet, “I’m gonna—.”

“Stanley!” Mimi’s furious exclamation stopped him short. He looked back at her. “Will you just shut up and listen?”

Reluctantly, Stanley turned around to face them again, looking between them. Jake gave a slightly apologetic shrug. “I wasn’t raped. That stuff Cheyenne sprayed us with just made me and…. Just made the both of us a little crazy for a while. Pheromones and crap, you know? It wasn’t something either of us really wanted to do, but… neither of us made the other do anything we didn’t want to, okay?”

“Okay.” Stanley folded his arms, still not entirely sure he believed Jake. And he still thought whoever had gotten Jake knocked up had a lot to answer for.

Mimi turned back to Jake. “And now you’re pregnant?” she asked softly.

Jake nodded at her.

Mimi gave a slight shrug and waved a hand at him. “How is that even possible? I mean, aren’t you all turned back?”

Jake sat back, pulling his hands out from under Mimi’s and scrubbing them through his hair. “I don’t really know. Kenchy thinks that when I changed back, my body somehow knew I was pregnant and left what was needed for the baby to grow. Because of the different DNA, maybe.” He dropped his hands to rest them across his stomach, looking from Mimi to Stanley and back again.

Something about the gesture—a dim memory of his mom sitting like that when she was pregnant with Bonnie—finally brought home to Stanley that there was a whole separate life inside Jake. Weird as that was. “Is it—?” He swallowed, not wanting to voice the question because the answer suddenly mattered more than he would have expected. “Will it be able to survive?”

Jake looked down at his hands where they were clasped together over his stomach. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “Kenchy seems to think maybe it can, if it’s gotten this far along. That… where it’s growing, how it’s growing…. Seems like it’s figured out a way that’ll work for both of us.”

“Wait, this could kill you?” Stanley folded his arms, swallowing down a sudden wave of nausea.

“Stanley….” Mimi was looking up at him with a pitying expression on her face. “Any pregnancy carries a risk. I mean, April….” She broke off and turned back to Jake, exchanging a grim look with him. After a moment, she leaned forward and asked quietly, “Even if you can, do you want to keep the baby?”

Jake shrugged. “I don’t know.” He gave a slight shake of the head, dropping his gaze back down to his stomach again. “I need to think about that. Haven’t gotten it straight in my own head yet. I just… needed to tell someone.”

Mimi reached out and touched his knee. “Uh-huh. If you want to talk…..”

He looked up at her and gave her a nod, his mouth curving into a tight smile. “I know. Thanks. But, right now, I think I just need to think about things for a while….”

A few minutes later, Stanley stood on the porch, his arm around Mimi, watching Jake ride away down the track. “You think he’s gonna be okay?”

“Physically?” Mimi lifted a hand to shade her eyes. “Probably. Kenchy’s a good doctor. Emotionally? God knows. Not that things wouldn’t be screwed up enough even if the father wasn’t—.” She broke off, dropping her hand down to cover her mouth.

“Wasn’t what?” Stanley turned to look down at her. A suspicion formed in his mind. He narrowed his eyes at her. “You know who it is?”

She wrapped her arms around herself, still looking after Jake, who was now a small dot approaching the point where the heavily-worn dirt track branched off toward Beck’s camp. “Maybe.”

“Who?” Stanley turned her to face him. Because, no matter how this turned out, Stanley still wanted to have words with the guy.

Mimi reached up and brushed his hair back from his forehead. “It’s only a guess, okay? And it’s for Jake to say. If he wants to. Let’s just wait and see what he decides.”

Fertile Ground Separator

Jake filled a cup with not-quite boiling water from the kettle, glad his grandfather had steadfastly refused to replace the wood-fired kitchen range he and grandma had purchased when they’d first moved out to the ranch. He added a handful of the herb tea that had been part of his food ration this week, an attempt to give the drink some flavor. Not exactly what he’d have chosen, but he hadn’t seen coffee in nearly a month. Besides, he huffed to himself, he probably shouldn’t be drinking coffee, not while he was—.

He shook his head, cutting off the thought. Picking up the cup, he headed outside and took a seat on the porch. It was almost dark, but he could still just about make out the shapes of the two horses standing half-asleep at the far end of the paddock.

Trouble was, he couldn’t not think about that, could he? About the fact he was pregnant and needed to decide what to do about it.

He wrapped his hands around the cup, not really needing the warmth but finding it comforting. The thing was, it should have been an easy decision: he was a guy and guys didn’t get pregnant. Kenchy had said he thought an operation probably wouldn’t be difficult, not this early, if that was what Jake wanted. No more complicated or risky than taking out his appendix or cutting out a benign tumor.

But it wasn’t the only option he’d offered Jake, after he’d spent some more time using the ultrasound to try and understand a little better what was going on. Though he’d hedged his words with lots of caveats, he seemed to think the fact Jake’s body had made accommodations to keep the fetus alive this long and apparently thriving—constructing tendons and muscles to support and protect the amniotic sac, and providing it with a blood supply—meant the pregnancy stood a good chance of going to full term.

Jake had noticed that Kenchy had been careful, as he’d explained the situation, to use the word “fetus”. Careful not to use the word “baby”. But that’s what it was. A baby that Jake was responsible for creating, even if he’d not really been himself at the time.

Even if he could get rid of it as easily as having his appendix out—should he?

Jake took a sip of his drink and let the corner of his mouth twist up in a wry grin. Funny thing was, even though he’d never really thought about it much, he’d always seen kids somewhere in his future. For all his sarcasm, Mitch hadn’t been so far off the mark when he’d asked Jake if he’d come back to settle down, raise a family, do a little farming. All of his years away from Jericho, there’d been a part of Jake that had envied his brother and coveted what his parents had.

Of course, he’d expected to have kids in the normal way, with a wife who’d be the one to get pregnant and give birth. Not like this—he unconsciously dropped a hand to cover his stomach—and not with Beck of all people. While his visceral hatred for the major had faded over time, and he even understood now why people like Heather and Eric could respect him, Beck was still pretty much the last person in the vicinity that Jake would have chosen to have a baby with. Though, Jake had to admit, he’d been pleasantly surprised by what Beck had been like in bed: more adventurous and more generous than Jake would ever have expected, apparently interested in making sure Jake felt as good as he did.

Jake shivered at the memory of Beck’s mouth exploring the parts of him that had changed: his lips and tongue wickedly and relentlessly working on Jake as he moaned helplessly at the sensations coursing through him. For a brief moment, Jake wondered what it would feel like to have Beck go down on him again, now—.

He dismissed the thought sharply. He wasn’t particularly bothered by the notion of being with another man, though it was slightly startling to discover he wasn’t repulsed by the idea either, but the thought that he might want to be with Beck again when he wasn’t doped up on hormones was too uncomfortable to contemplate.

Dragging his mind away from the memory of their morning together, Jake turned his attention back to the current issue. Whatever had gone on between them, the truth was that this wasn’t just Jake’s baby. It was Beck’s as well. Did Jake even have the right to make this decision on his own?

Jake tried to imagine how the conversation would go if he broke the news to Beck. He grimaced. For all Beck wasn’t the monster Jake had once considered him, he still had a tendency to take charge and to act like he thought he knew best—even when he wasn’t the one who’d have to live with the consequences. Jake could easily imagine his own wishes being swept aside by Beck setting off on some righteous crusade.

Of course, if he decided to get rid of the baby, no one else need know, not even Beck. But if he tried to keep it, it would be hard to hide the pregnancy—and people would want to know who the father was. They might be too afraid to ask Jake directly, but they’d gossip and speculate. Was it fair to expose Beck to that, when he’d really been no more to blame than Jake for those couple of hours of insanity they’d shared?

The questions were all muddled together: to keep the baby or not; to tell Beck or not; to tell anyone else who the father was. Draining the last of his drink, Jake put the mug down and got up and began to pace, trying to untangle his thoughts and make some decisions.

It was well past dawn by the time he thought he’d gotten the answers straight in his own head, though he reckoned he needed to talk to Kenchy again before he made his final choice. Wearily, he crawled into bed, hoping to snatch a few hours sleep before he was due on patrol again.

Fertile Ground Separator

Beck ordered his driver to wait on the concrete apron at the entrance to the Greens’ ranch on Route 6 and trudged the last hundred yards through the dust to the house. Jake had caught him that morning as he was leaving the daily meeting with Gray, Eric and Heather and said they needed to talk: “in private.” When Beck suggested they step into the interview room he sometimes used as an office while at City Hall, Jake shook his head, glancing down at the people milling around in the entrance hall below. “Not here. The ranch. Whenever….”

Beck had nodded, his gut clenching. He and Jake hadn’t been alone together since—since that time at the Richmond farm. And while Beck hadn’t felt a flicker of attraction toward Jake since the other man had transformed back, he still didn’t feel comfortable around him. The memories were too disturbing. Besides, what did they have to say to each other that hadn’t already been said?

Jake must have been watching out for him from the house, because he appeared on the porch as Beck crossed the yard. With a quick look over Beck’s shoulder to the waiting humvee, Jake ushered him inside and shut the door.

Beck took a few paces into the main room and turned to face Jake. The other man had his back to him, his hand still on the door and his head bent. After a moment, he straightened and turned to face Beck.

“What—?” The look on Jake’s face made the question die on Beck’s lips. He knew Jake was about to deliver bad news of some kind. Unconsciously, he drew himself to attention.

Jake hesitated for a moment longer, swallowing, before he blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”

“I beg your pardon?” Beck thought he must have something in his ears, because Jake couldn’t possibly have just said what he thought he’d just said. Could he?

“I’m pregnant.” Jake spoke slowly and carefully. “About two months along.”

No mistake, then. “Is it—?” Beck bit back the mine, because that was never the way to ask that. A baby belonged, at the very least, to two people. Besides, Jake wouldn’t be telling him this unless he had a reason to. “I’m the father?” It was only half a question.

Jake nodded. “There wasn’t anyone else. When I was… different.”

Beck forced himself to stand at ease, drawing in a deep breath. He wanted to ask Jake how he could possibly still be pregnant, but he guessed that whatever weird science had transformed Jake in the first place had been able to make this happen as well. Probably another gift from whichever morally bankrupt government scientist had thought the thing up in the first place.

Jake cleared his throat and Beck realized he’d been lost in thought for the past minute. He wasn’t sure what Jake wanted him to say. He was still trying to comprehend that Jake was pregnant, that he was going to be a father again, that he’d fathered a child with Jake, that—.

He saw Jake was looking at him a little quizzically. Still lost for words, Beck settled for catching his eye and raising his eyebrows, inviting the other man to go on if he had more to say. Which he surely did.

Jake scrubbed a hand through his hair, his gaze sliding away from Beck. “I, uh, I’m planning on keeping the baby. If my body lets me.” He lifted his eyes back up to Beck’s face, his expression confrontational. “You don’t get a say in that.”

Beck dipped his head. “I understand.” He didn’t, really, except he rather thought Jake wanted to argue with him, or at least was expecting an argument. But it wasn’t his place to say what Jake did, was it? For all—he dropped his gaze to Jake’s stomach and his breath caught in his throat as he remembered Alondra pregnant with Isa, remembered the letter that had come from the Red Cross less than a month ago telling him he had neither wife nor daughter now. He swallowed hard as he completed the thought: for all it was his flesh and blood there, inside Jake.

Jake was going on speaking and Beck dragged his mind back from the past to the present. “But it’s up to you if I tell anyone who the father is. And it’s up to you if you want to be involved in bringing up the baby. I’ll understand if you don’t want any part of this.”

Beck went on looking at him, his mind too much in turmoil to frame an answer, though deep down he knew what it was. Went on looking for so long that Jake eventually hunched his shoulders and shoved his hands into his pockets. “It’s—,” he started to say.

Something about the gesture finally galvanized Beck into action. Jake looked so lost and lonely and afraid, even more than he had done as the traumatized and grief-stricken man Beck had first met less than six months before. A meeting, Beck recalled with bitter amusement, that had also taken place in the kitchen at the Richmond farmhouse.

“Of course I want to be involved,” he interrupted sharply. “And of course I’ll acknowledge the child. This is my responsibility just as much as yours.” He hesitated, suddenly unsure if that was the answer Jake wanted to hear. “If that’s what you want?”

Jake seemed unsure too. Maybe he hadn’t thought as far as Beck’s answer, only that he should give him the choice. Then he nodded. “Yes. If I were you… if the shoe was on the other foot, I’d want that too. It’s only fair….” He suddenly gave a wry laugh, the corner of his mouth turning up in a crooked grin. “Now we just have to tell everyone else.”

Part Two of "Fertile Ground"
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April 2020

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