staggered into his office and collapsed into his chair. When the new office chairs had come, he'd looked at them with a jaundiced eye. Now, as the pain of the past few days faded from his heels and his arches, he had to admit the previous administrators had spent every penny wisely.

 

The past week had been terrible, and he didn't think that was just hyperbole. Dave hadn't had to run between buildings like this since med school, when he'd made the brilliant decision to get a joint degree. That had been years ago and he hadn't been pregnant then. And, possibly most important of all, no one had been dying.

 

There weren't a lot of studies about bacterial meningitis in elderly populations. There was a good reason for that. Elderly people in the West are rarely affected by bacterial meningitis. They tended not to live in crowded conditions. Even when they lived in dense populations, their personal space was respected except in cases of medical necessity and they almost never went around swapping spit all willy-nilly, the way teenagers did.

 

They simply weren't at risk, unless some complete ass went and forced them into harm's way.

 

Apparently the disease hit them hard. Many of the people in a nursing home already had underlying health conditions and their immune systems weren't as ready to fight as a younger or healthier person's would be. They dropped like flies and there was nothing Dave could do.

 

He pumped them full of antibiotics when he could, but maybe ten percent of the seniors couldn't take antibiotics for one reason or another. The antibiotics interfered with this medication or that medication. They had an allergy. They were already on a different batch of antibiotics for bedsores that had become infected.

 

They saw the typical rate of complications from meningitis too, but the complications weren't as easy to cope with or fix. Two patients died on the operating table while removing gangrenous limbs. Another four died while undergoing treatment for kidneys that were probably failing due to meningitis, but might have failed anyway, and ten died due to advance directives that no extraordinary measures be taken to save their lives under any circumstances.

 

Dave had to admit, in the face of the advance directives, that those patients had at best a forty percent chance of surviving anyway. Their prior conditions, and the way the meningitis burned through their frail bodies, didn't bode well for them. He still hated that loss, hated the sense of failure.

 

Most of the patients that he'd kept at Silver Oak had died, though he tried not to take that personally. He'd kept them at Silver Oak because they were the sickest of the patients from Baldwin House and their outcome was always going to be a little iffy.

 

The only thing that kept him going right now was Ken. Ken was the bright spot in his day. Just seeing Ken and knowing he was around made the load on Dave's shoulders feel infinitely lighter.

 

A shadow fell across his desk, with a familiar shape. Dave smiled. "Speak of the Devil and you'll see his horns."

 

Ken snickered. "So now I'm the devil?"

 

"Mmm. You certainly tempt me into wickedness."

 

"That was one time. One!" Ken leaned across the desk and touched his lips to Dave's. "How long have you been on your feet?" Dave didn't answer and Ken glowered. "Did you go home last night?"

 

"We had a crisis, okay? Mrs. Boyle suddenly started to fail, which meant I had to go over to Upstate. Then we lost Mr. Molinari, which was bad, and then I had to go to Community because Mrs. Tremblay got—"

 

Ken held up a hand. "Honey, stop. I get it. People are sick. It's bad. Look." He looked away for a moment. "Can you just, maybe, come down to Obstetrics with me?"

 

"Obstetrics? Did someone leave a dose of bacteria there too?" Dave sprang to his feet, grabbing his bag as he leaped.

 

"No, honey. You're pregnant, remember?" Ken put a hand on his shoulder. "You had an appointment?"

 

"Oh. Oh, crap. I completely forgot." Dave flopped back into his seat. "Can we reschedule? Everything is such a mess right now, I'm not sure I can take the time away from work."

 

Ken set his jaw, but his voice was mild when he replied. "Honey, there's always going to be someone sick in Syracuse. That's why ID specialists exist. And there's not just you, okay? Come on. Let's just go down to Obstetrics, and you can get checked out." He took Dave's hand.

 

Dave went along with him. It was easier to take care of himself when someone else was telling him to do it. If he was the one pushing for it, it just sat poorly on his conscience. If Ken was telling him to do it, he could convince himself he really needed it, and he wasn't just being stupidly self-indulgent.

 

Carter Idoni was waiting for Dave when he got there, with a little grin on his face. "Got a little caught up in things, did you?" He smirked and shook his head. "Come on, hop up on the scale. I get it. I do the same thing. Of course, I rarely have hundreds of patients at one time, and they're definitely not all in the hospital at once. So there's that." He frowned at the scale when Dave got onto it. "Would you say you've gained or lost weight?"

 

"Um." Dave's cheeks burned. "It's been a rough few weeks. Not a lot of time for food or stuff like that." He looked away. "I mean these are truly extraordinary circumstances. Meningitis doesn't work like this. We don't get outbreaks like this in America, not for this disease."

 

"Okay." Idoni gestured to the examination table. "I'm going to take your word for that. I saw the presser you guys did too. There are some sick people in the world. Down here in Obstetrics, Gynecology, and Omega Care, we're not really too worried about what's going on out in the wider world. Our priority is our carrier parents. How are you feeling, Doctor?" He frowned. "Are you having insomnia at all?"

 

"No, no." Dave waved a hand. "I was just here kind of late last night."

 

"He didn't go home last night." Ken glowered at Dave before turning to Idoni with a smug look on his face. "You couldn't prove to me that he ate either."

 

"Look, I was busy." Dave rolled his eyes. "I'm not an accountant, Ken. It's not like the patients go into stasis when I go home and nap."

 

"I've been there." Idoni gave a little chuckle. "Forty-eight hour shifts for a baby that just would not come, no matter what you did, and would that parent just accept a C-section before she bled to death? No, no, can't listen to the guy who's seen this literally a thousand times, right?"

 

Ken clenched his teeth so hard Dave could hear his teeth grinding. That had to hurt. "The difference here is that pregnancy isn't contagious."

 

Idoni's already-narrow eyes narrowed even further. "Yeah. True."

 

Dave twisted to look Ken in the eye. "I'm only an infectious disease specialist. It's not like I know how to keep myself safe from this stuff. Or like I've been vaccinated against meningitis."

 

"Okay. That's also true." Idoni's pink tongue darted out to run over his lips. "I mean, all the doctors and nurses at Silver Oak have been vaccinated against it."

 

"Okay, you've been vaccinated against it, and that's a good thing." Ken shifted his weight back on his heels. "The baby hasn't been."

 

Dave knew his face was getting red. He didn't want to snap at Ken, but he was exhausted. His feet hurt, and he was more than a little insulted to boot. "I'm sorry, Ken, but do you really think someone who's devoted this much of his life to studying infectious disease would somehow not have thought of that? That an omega who'd spent this much of his life studying infectious disease wouldn't have considered, very carefully, how immunity works during pregnancy? I mean, for Christ's sake, Ken, did they even have health class where you went to school?"

 

"Sorry I didn't go to some fancy prep school like some people, but I did take health class thank you very much. Forgive me for having some concerns about our baby." Ken pressed his hands to his chest. "I think it's a dumb idea for you to keep working around all these people who could infect you with something that could damage your brain, or the baby's brain, while you're pregnant!"

 

Dave was having none of it. "Right. So the fact that infectious disease is what I've spent my whole life studying, and working on, has no weight with you. Is it because I'm an omega? Or is it because I'm a little guy from New York and not some big, burly lumberjack type? Is that it? I'm good enough to consult with when you're just looking for a killer but not when you actually need to listen to someone. Then you need to find someone a little more manly?"

 

"I'm just saying you need to keep yourself safe, for the baby!" Ken threw his hands up in the air, obviously frustrated by dealing with an omega who knew what he was talking about and wouldn't back down. "Why is this too hard to understand? Did all that expensive private school education get in the way of your common sense?"

 

"No, Ken, science got in the way of ignorance! The baby is safer in my belly than it would be if it were born tomorrow." Dave noticed he was shouting and brought his voice down a notch. "Dr. Idoni, do you happen to have a brochure on immunity and pregnancy?"

 

"As a matter of fact, no. This has never come up before." Idoni stepped back. "Maybe we can work together to develop one."

 

"Hey, maybe that's a good idea. You can work with the nice doctor to develop a nice brochure about immunity and pregnancy. Down here. Far away from the people with fatal diseases." Ken gave Dave a big, cheesy grin.

 

"Here's an idea. How about if you quit your job. There's people with guns out there, you know. You're going to be a father, and I'm not so comfortable with you running around putting yourself in harm's way." Dave crossed his arms over his chest.

 

Ken scowled. "That doesn't make a bit of sense."

 

"Neither does demanding that I quit my job!" Dave didn't bother trying to keep his voice down this time.

 

Idoni cleared his throat. Dave had no idea how he managed to clear his throat so loudly, almost like the crack of a gunshot, but he managed. "Look. I can see that the two of you have a lot to talk about and tempers are obviously a little high. How about if you find a way to express yourselves calmly and civilly, maybe in private?" He forced a little smile. "For what it's worth, there's no scientific reason Dr. Stanek shouldn't be able to keep doing his job. There are some illnesses that have a disproportionate effect on a developing fetus, but meningitis isn't one of them." He raised his eyebrows at Ken. "And I went to public school in Dyersburg, Tennessee, so that ain't private school talkin'. So let's move on to the heartbeat portion of our evening, hm?"

 

Dave blushed. "Apologies, Doctor. It won't happen again."

 

Idoni waved his hand. "No worries. Believe it or not, plenty of couples argue in here. It can be a stressful time." He grabbed the Doppler device that would let him listen to the fetal heartbeat. "Alright. Just pull up your shirt and unzip those pants; good. No need to get you all undressed. Here we go."

 

At first, all they could hear was the swoosh of Dave's blood in his veins. It proved he was alive, which considering how badly he missed his bed he couldn't help but appreciate, but it wasn't why he was here. He strained to hear the sound he wanted most.

 

Then he picked up on it, the steady thump thump thump of a fetal heartbeat. There was a problem though. The rhythm wasn't quite right. He looked up into Idoni's eyes, trying to get a sense of how worried he should be. Was the problem with the baby solvable? Would they have to do surgery while the baby was in utero?

 

Idoni's eyes widened. "Well, I'll be damned. Congratulations, you two."

 

Dave and Ken exchanged glances, resentments temporarily forgotten. "What's wrong?"

 

"Nothing's wrong. I'd just make sure you've got a three bedroom house." He grinned. "Or bunk beds. You're having twins."

 

"Twins." Dave's mouth was numb. "Twins?"

 

"Twins." Idoni chuckled quietly to himself. "It's definitely too early to tell if they're identical or fraternal, but you should absolutely prepare yourself for two kids and not one. Seriously, congratulations. Multiples are unusual with omega pregnancies without fertility treatments, so this is truly cause for celebration."

 

"I think I'm going to be sick." Dave turned his head.

 

Idoni, who was not pregnant and could laugh at such things, snickered. "That's a pretty normal reaction. Especially when you haven't been getting the sleep you should. Look, we're doctors. We've trained to do extended shifts, and it's hard for us to step back and get the rest we need. Your body is growing two people inside it. I don't agree with your partner—alpha?—that you need to stop working in infectious disease, that's just silly. I do think you need to take care of yourself. You're not going to be able to help your patients if you're exhausted past the point of functioning.

 

"And trust me—you will be exhausted past the point of functioning. Those critters in there are going to get what they need from you no matter what you do. You can take care of yourself and be there for your patients during normal people working hours, or you can ignore your body and collapse in a heap next to someone's bedside. The choice is yours."

 

"But—" Ken obviously had more to say about the whole contagion thing, but Idoni cut him off.

 

"Look. I'm getting paid for my medical opinion, not to rubber stamp something that makes an alpha feel better, okay? I see where you're coming from, kind of. You're scared of this disease and with good reason. You want to keep your omega safe. When it comes to infectious disease, he's the expert. Listen to him, trust him and stay out of the way." Idoni patted Ken's shoulder and gave him a bright, brittle smile. "Now get this handsome guy home before he passes out in my exam room. We don't let people sleep here."

 

Ken looked down at Dave, who was busy fixing his clothes. "Twins, huh?"

 

Dave hunched his shoulders. "Twins."

 

"Let's go home. We can talk about it there."

 

***

Ken waited until they got home to say anything. He unlocked the door with his own key, and he took a moment to appreciate the fact that he had his own key before he let himself remember he was angry. He had his own key. He had his own little RFID fob, to get him in through the security door too. Dave wanted him to be able to come and go as he pleased. To think of this as his home too.

 

Maybe he shouldn't take an adversarial approach to this. They did love each other. They shouldn't have to express themselves in hurtful ways. Ken was an alpha and a cop. He wasn't a Neanderthal. "So," he said, heading for the kitchen. "Twins."

 

"Twins." Dave stared at the table, like he was seeing it for the first time. "Twins aren't manageable. They're just not. They climb walls, and swing from the chandelier, and, and—"

 

Ken had to laugh at that. "Are you for real right now? You can look a full blown meningitis epidemic, on a scale that hasn't been seen in this country, in the eye, but twins makes you run?"

 

"They'll cry, Ken. And smell bad." He rubbed at his face. "Twice the diapers, twice the screaming, twice the feeding, and let's not even get into what they're going to need when they get into school. Oh God, the schools in the city are a mess. They might be okay when the kids get older but they might not, I don't know—"

 

"Babe?" Ken found the mac and cheese his mother had sent over. She and Dave still hadn't met and she still didn't approve of the order in which they were doing things. She still wanted to contribute. Ken thought it was sweet. Would Dave?

 

Ken heated the mac and cheese up and rummaged for some frozen broccoli. "Babe, you're panicking. It's a lot to handle but, like I said, you can handle situations most people would never dream of. And you're not alone. You've got me and you've got my family. You've got friends too. You're not on a desert island."

 

"Except you're mad at me, because I won't quit my job." Dave's words came out in a quiet voice, and he wouldn't lift his eyes from the table.

 

"I guess we're doing this then." Ken got some water going to cook the broccoli. "Look. I'm worried, okay? Look at yourself. You're barely functional right now. Part of it is because you're pregnant and being pregnant exhausts you. Part of it is because you've worked yourself into the ground and that's no good either. You get what I'm saying?"

 

"You think I'm incompetent? Unable to make my own decisions?" Dave raised an eyebrow.

 

"No. I'm worried about you. I'm worried about our baby—or babies now that I think about it—but I'm more worried about you than anyone else. I didn't fall in love with babies, or even with the fact that you can have babies. I'm in love with you and I want you to be healthy."

 

Dave let out a little laugh. "You know," he said, after a moment, "I've gotten pretty used to doing things for myself. I've had friends and lovers, but between being cut off and being oriented toward school instead of toward starting a family—well, I wasn't in a position where I was going to be someone else's priority. And I accepted that. It's a little hard to get used to."

 

Ken leaned against the counter. He didn't want to mess up dinner, because he was pretty sure Dave hadn't eaten in a while, but he wanted to make it clear that he was listening. "Is it a good kind of hard to get used to or nah?"

 

"Oh, it's the good kind." Dave ducked his head and chuckled. "It's definitely the good kind. It's just kind of weird."

 

"So you get that I just have your best interests at heart." Ken relaxed. The mac and cheese was done, and the broccoli had taken on that bright green color that meant it was ready to come out too. He plated servings for both of them and brought them to the table.

 

"I get that you think you have my best interests at heart." Dave looked down.

 

Ken scowled, but took his seat. "What's that supposed to mean?"

 

Dave gestured to the food on the table. "Some things I'm not so good with, and yeah, I'm going to need help with them." He grinned, and Ken almost forgot to be angry. "I'm still pretty used to thinking of the job first, and that's going to have to change pretty soon whether or not I want it to, right? I don't think that part is something I can do on my own. There's reasons for that, but the bottom line is I need help knowing when it's okay to step back and make time for taking care of myself.

 

"Other things, though—I need you to accept that I do know what I'm talking about when it comes to my job. It's my job to know about infectious disease. It's several of my jobs, actually, to know an awful lot about infectious disease. It's not because I grew up rich, even though I did. It's not because my family spent money on me, even though they did. It's because even though they paid for me to go for a little while, I still had to work damn hard to stay in that pre-med program, and then in med school, and then in my residencies. I did a joint degree, actually. My MD comes with a side of a master's degree in public health. I know this stuff."

 

"I know you know your stuff, Dave. I've seen the degrees on your wall." Ken put his fork down. "Why would you think I don't?"

 

"Because you were pretty sure you knew more about meningitis and pregnancy than I do, or than Dr. Idoni does and let me promise you he's freaking brilliant. He got a full ride for undergrad, and pretty good scholarships for Stanford. I don't go around telling you how to shoot a gun or how to play with your shotgun—"

 

Ken pulled a face. "You don't play with a shotgun, Dave."

 

"See?" Dave spread his hands wide. "There's a reason I don't tell you what to do with that thing. So maybe you should respect all the effort I've put in, and all the work I've done, and accept that when I tell you something isn't an issue from a disease standpoint that maybe it isn't."

 

Ken opened his mouth to object. Then he closed it again. "You know what? I deserved that." He hung his head, and then he picked up his fork. "I still had your best interests at heart, in that I knew you hadn't been taking care of yourself. I felt like I needed to step in. But I did go too far and I do need to trust you more. I'm scared. I don't want to lose you. I don't want to lose the babies either. I don't know them yet, but I'm excited about this new chapter in our lives.

 

"And I am an alpha. That doesn't make it right for me to be a jerk, but it does mean that I'm going to have certain urges. I'm going to want to protect you—need to protect you, and our babies, over anything else. I should keep a tighter rein on that stuff. We don't live in caves anymore, for crying out loud."

 

Dave stared at him for a moment. "Am I hallucinating this?"

 

Ken scratched his head. "I don't think so. Of course, if you were, I probably wouldn't tell you."

 

Dave chortled. "Cute. Seriously though, this never happens. People don't talk out their issues like, well, people. They stew until it blows up in their faces and then they mope around the office and lose themselves in their job until the cycle begins again."

 

Ken got up and kissed Dave on the top of his head. "Now I see why you were still single when we met. I'd been wondering," he teased. "Honestly, though, I'm still upset that you're risking yourself that way. I don't like it. But I guess expecting you to sit around the house and, I don't know, knit booties or something is kind of ridiculous. Can you even knit?"

 

"No. As a matter of fact, I cannot knit." Dave rested his head against Ken's chest.

 

"There you go. Just promise me you'll take care of yourself. Get a decent amount of rest. Listen to your body. Eat." Ken headed back to his chair.

 

"I will do my best." He tugged at his collar. "There are going to be times when I need help with that, but I know you'll be right there every step of the way."

 

"Damn straight."

 

They finished their dinner quickly and then they headed back to the bedroom. Ken did wonder if they would stay in the condo once the twins were born. Dave seemed to love the place, but there wasn't room for both kids to have their own room and the design wasn't necessarily family-friendly.

 

That was a discussion—or debate—for another day. Dave insisted on having a shower and Ken took a chance and slid into the oversized shower stall with him. Dave didn't object. In fact, he seemed more than a little pleased by Ken's presence, even if he was so tired he could barely stand up.

 

"Don't worry about that." Ken murmured into the shell of Dave's ear, adding a nibble at the end. "Let me take care of you."

 

He started with Dave's soft, dark hair, massaging his scalp gently until the suds ran down his pale skin and Dave was reduced to soft little moans of pleasure. Then, Ken soaped up a washcloth and scrubbed every inch of his lover's body. He wasn't rough about it; didn't try to abrade the skin off the way Dave seemed to sometimes. He just gently scrubbed, rubbing soft circles into his beloved's skin and then guided him under the warm water to rinse him off.

 

They were both hard by the time Ken finished. Dave tried to reach out to return the favor, but Ken batted his hand away. All Ken wanted to do right now was take care of Dave. He got down on his knees, right there in the shower, and took Dave into his mouth.

 

Dave leaned back against the white marble tile and moaned. He wasn't going to last. Ken didn't expect him to and he could live with that. Ken wasn't a clock watcher anyway. Dave's hand stroked his cheek and, even though he clearly just wanted to close his eyes and lose himself, he couldn't tear his eyes away from Ken.

 

Ken wouldn't have wanted him to.

 

Dave gave him some warning when he came and Ken pulled off with a sloppy wet pop before finishing Dave off by hand. Dave went weak in the knees and had to sit on the white marble bench, but that just made Ken grin. He'd done that. Well, he'd done part of it. Dave had been beat to start with, but Ken had finished him off.

 

Dave returned the favor for Ken, using some weird kind of med school magic to jerk him to the kind of orgasm most guys only dreamed about. Then, and only then, did they rinse off again and grab for their towels.

 

They didn't bother with pajamas. They would have to, eventually, once the twins were born. For now, they might as well simply enjoy the warmth of one another's bodies.

 

Dave fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Ken couldn't quite get to sleep yet. He just wasn't ready. He was still too keyed up from the events of the day.

 

Twins. He'd talked a good game with Dave, but that had mostly been to stave off panic in his partner. Ken didn't know the first thing about babies. How was he supposed to take care of two of them? It didn't sound like Dave had ever taken care of a baby either. Where were they supposed to get help for this?

 

Mama would do what she could, but she had a life of her own and a business to run. Other than that, there was… well, no one. Maybe Dave had someone he could talk to, but so far none of the friends Ken had met seemed like the "baby" type. And the guy had almost certainly been raised by nannies in a gold-encrusted wild, right?

 

Oh Lord. Was Dave going to want to get nannies? Was he going to want jewel-encrusted strollers?

 

He pushed the absurd thought aside. A nanny might not be a bad idea, considering that they both tended to get called to work at odd hours. Ken knew he had some misconceptions about nannies. They almost certainly didn't sail in on umbrellas and they weren't necessarily a snobbish thing. They were a practical solution, especially when kids were very young.

 

And as for the jewel-encrusted strollers, Dave wasn't that kind of guy. Out of the two of them, Ken wore more jewelry than Dave. Everything about Dave was understated.

 

They would get through this, whether in this condo or in another. They'd find a way to make it work for them. They hadn't even agreed to move in together yet. Ken had to remind himself that he was putting the cart before the horse and maybe he needed to slow down a little.

 

His very soul rebelled at the concept. He didn't want to live apart from Dave. Dave needed help taking care of himself and he was going to need help taking care of the twins. There was no way Ken could just walk away from him like that.

 

He drifted off to sleep, sure he could hear two crying infants in the next room.