"Being pregnant sucks," Peter declared, lowering himself onto the couch, careful as always of the steadily-growing bulk he'd been encumbered with for the past seven months.

Egon just raised one eyebrow. Thos three words had become a standard line of late. "What precisely is bothering you this time, Peter?" he asked, making sure to keep his voice calm.

Peter sighed. "I miss my dick," he said morosely. "It's been so long since I've seen it." He glared down at the paunch obscuring his view of his pants.

Egon quirked a grin but manfully kept himself from laughing. "I can assure you, Peter, most vociferously, that your genitalia is exactly the same as it was before you conceived."

"Yeah, well, that's easy for you to say," Peter said caustically - and accurately. "If something was wrong with me, you probably wouldn't tell me just 'cause you're so afraid I'll get moody and kill you or something."

"The fact that you chased me around the firehouse wielding a frying pan and declaring my imminent doom during your first trimester gives weight to your argument," Egon replied blandly.

Peter flushed and ducked his head. "I apologized for that," he grumbled gruffly.

"And I accepted your apology," Egon reminded his lover. "I should not have told you that I understood what you were going through just because I had the scientific facts about your condition memorized."

Peter nodded vigorously.

"But in my defense, I had been up for almost forty-eight hours straight," Egon concluded. "And you were driving everyone, including me, nuts with your complaining."

Making a face, Peter said, "I'd like to see you handle becoming pregnant by some demon any better."

"The Alterra Demon did not impregnate you, Peter," Egon reiterated his words on that subject for what seemed like the thousandth time - but was, in reality, only the seventeenth. "It altered your body and made you able to become pregnant. I was the one who impregnated you," he reminded his lover needlessly - and a bit guiltily.

"Yeah, yeah..." Peter grumbled. "I still don't see how it's possible that my body didn't change all that much," he added a moment later.

"You were screaming about your breasts only yesterday, Peter."

"Well, how would you feel if your body decided to rebel against you?" Peter demanded.

An inscrutable expression on his face, Egon said, "I believe that it was the first two months in which you had morning sickness, Dr. Venkman."

"Ha-hah, very funny, Spengs," Peter groused. "You're a real wit..."

"Half of one, anyway," Egon finished the old joke with a smile twitching at his lips.

Peter scowled at having his humorous thunder stolen - even if it was by his lover. "Getting back to what I was saying... What I meant was how in the hell can I still be male and yet be pregnant?"

"Even non-demon-altered men still have a uterus," Egon told his lover.

"You're kidding," Peter said, agape with horror.

Shaking his head, Egon said, "No. It is severely undersized - about two inches long - and nothing more than a vestigial organ, but it is still there. The Alterra Demon most likely just enlarged it and made you...for lack of better terminology...fertile."

Stricken shock dawned on Peter's face. "So you mean that once this kid is cut out of me - I could get pregnant again?" he squeaked.

Egon shrugged. "Why do you think I've been studying up on sterility spells? If your sperm count is anything to go by, no matter whether you're on the giving or receiving end of intercourse, you're still extremely fecund. Especially considering we use condoms, and you still managed to get 'knocked up' as you say."

Peter whimpered. "No sex?" he said plaintively. "Ever?"

Egon's eyes went wide. "Oh, God, no. If worse comes to worst, you'll just have to be on top all the time." He smirked slightly. "Not a hardship for you or me, I'm sure."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Peter said, "You always know how to make me feel better, Spengs."

Quirking a grin, Egon said dryly, "Humor decreases your anxiety during pregnancy. So noted for future reference."

Peter glared. "There. Will be. No. Future. Pregnancies," he said deliberately, voice icy as an arctic winter.

"Whatever you say, Peter," Egon said agreeably.

Narrowing his eyes, Peter starred at his lover for a full sixty seconds, then nodded decisively, having decided that Egon was being truthful. "Well, all rightie then!" He clapped his hands. "Now...I have a craving for a peanut butter and pickle sandwich. Do we have any mustard?"

Egon swallowed down his urge to vomit - and bolted out the door.

Peter on a rampage because of his hormones was scary, but livable. Peter during one of his cravings was just downright terrifying.