Summary: It's been months since he's seen MJ since she's at Stanford and he's at MIT. When she shows up at his house with a baby, however, he's pretty sure he's dreaming because he would have noticed if she was pregnant, right? Right?

Peter was absolutely, one hundred percent sure he was dreaming right now, but he couldn't figure out how to move enough to pinch himself just in case. He wasn't even sure he could figure out how to breathe if someone asked him because here was Michelle. With a baby. A curly-haired, not-even-old-enough-to-sit-up-on-his-own baby.

He had to be dreaming, right?

He'd seen her in the last nine months. There was no way he wouldn't have noticed if she had been pregnant, right? Right? God, he was a terrible boyfriend if he hadn't even noticed that she'd been pregnant during Christmas break and apparently hadn't bothered to say anything.

Maybe she hadn't known? Unlikely. Michelle was the single most observant person he knew. If anyone were going to suspect they were pregnant early on, it would be her. So why hadn't she said anything when he'd last seen her in person? Why hadn't she said anything during the multiple facetime calls since then?

He was dreaming. It was the only logical solution.

Why else would Michelle show up, a baby strapped to her chest and a diaper bag in hand, after sending him a text saying hey, i have something important to tell you the day after she returned from Stanford?

He'd been expecting a break-up, not a baby. He'd thought she was coming over to tell him that she'd found someone better in California. The long-distance was hard, but they'd managed well enough (or so he'd thought). They'd seen each other over Christmas break and even though it was June now and they'd only seen each other over the phone, he'd thought they were doing well.

A little too well, apparently, his mind supplied.

"Are you gonna let me in?" Michelle raised a brow at him and Peter blinked.

"Oh, yeah!" he squawked. He stepped aside awkwardly, opening the door and saying, "Yeah, yeah."

Michelle stepped inside, tossing the diaper bag somewhere to the left and adjusting the baby strapped to her front. It―He? She?―was fast asleep on her chest and Michelle seemed perfectly at ease with the situation.

Peter had to shake himself out of his thoughts in order to close the door and follow her into the kitchen.

"So..." Peter trailed off.

How did one bring up the subject of the baby without making it weird? Should he let Michelle start the conversation? She was already making herself tea. That meant the conversation wasn't bad, right? She hadn't cheated on him, gotten pregnant, and was planning on breaking up with him, right? She wouldn't be making tea if that was the case.

"Yeah, yeah." Michelle waved her arm in his direction, back to him as she put a mug in the microwave to heat. "Lemme make some tea first. Does May still have the rooibos that I like?"

"Ye―Yeah," Peter stuttered. It was in the bottom cupboard. With a baby on her chest, she wouldn't be able to get it. "I'll get it for you."

Michelle stepped aside so he could bend down and search the cupboard for her favorite brand. May had long since found a new favorite tea, but Michelle liked the rooibos so May kept it around.

"You're acting weird," Michelle said when he handed her the tea. Her eyes narrowed. "You good, loser?"

"Yeah," Peter said for the dozenth time since she'd arrived. "Just―You said you had something important to tell me and after the whole long-distance thing, that's a little, you know, nerve-wracking."

Michelle smirked. "I'm not breaking up with you. Don't worry."

That was a relief that Peter hadn't expected. Despite the baby that she still hadn't said anything about, he'd been a little worried that's why she'd come: to break up with him after he got her pregnant in her freshman year of college.

"Oh," was all he managed to say. "That's―That's good."

"Yeah?" Michelle teased.

Peter nodded. "Yeah."

Behind her, the microwave dinged and the baby whimpered. Simultaneously pulling her mug from the microwave and soothing the baby on her chest, Michelle was momentarily distracted from Peter's current crisis. As soon as the baby was soothed and her tea bag was in her mug, however, her eyes returned to him and Peter was once again at a loss as to how to bring up the subject of the baby.

"So..." he said again, "you had news?"

"I sure do, nerd," she said. Gesturing toward the living room, she told him, "You might wanna sit down."

Peter was pretty sure he didn't need to. He'd already seen the baby. It wasn't like she'd hidden it very well and honestly, Peter figured that it didn't matter if he was sitting or standing when she finally did say something about the baby.

Peter dropped onto the couch and Michelle sat down next to him, much more composed than Peter's panicked flop. At the change in position, the baby shifted and whined again, but Michelle ran a hand over its head gently and it calmed down.

Peter blinked.

He'd never seen Michelle with kids, but this was not what he would have expected. Sharp-witted, straightforward MJ―who he loved with all his goddamn heart―was pressing a soft kiss to the baby's head and murmuring little reassurances until it stopped squirming.

She returned her attention to him as soon as the baby settled, tea in one hand and the other still resting on the baby's head.

"You're, uh, you're good with it," Peter said, nodding to the baby.

Michelle quirked an eyebrow. "It?"

"He? She?" Peter guessed. Michelle just smirked. "Come on, MJ, I can't tell."

"He's wearing a onesie covered in little trains," she said drily, "and you can't tell?"

"Well, no," Peter said dumbly. "You're the one that taught me not to make assumptions based on what someone's wearing. For all I know, you'd dress a girl in a train onesie."

Michelle's smirk morphed into a grin at his response.

"I've taught you well, Parker," she murmured, sounding more proud than Peter would have expected from such a basic statement.

There was a long, silent moment where Michelle sipped at her tea and Peter stared in awe at the very small human she already seemed so comfortable around.

That's stupid, Peter thought to himself, of course she's comfortable with him.

"Not to sound like a broken record," Peter said as the silence grew too much, "but what exactly did you want to tell me?"

"Oh." Michelle set aside her tea and turned on the couch to face him, pulling her leg up underneath her and turning to him with a sly grin. "I decided to quit Stanford."

If Peter had thought he couldn't breathe when he'd answered the door, he definitely couldn't now.

"What?" he choked out. His eyes darted down to the sleeping baby. "What?"

God, he'd ruined her life, hadn't he? He'd gone and gotten her pregnant and now she had to drop out of Stanford to take care of his kid and oh my god, May was going to be so upset.

"I'm transferring," she said, stopping Peter's spiral, "to Harvard."

Peter still hadn't caught his breath.

Okay, so she wasn't dropping out altogether. That was good. He would have died if she'd had to give up her dream of being a lawyer because of some stupid thing he'd done. She didn't deserve that. He'd drop out before her just to make it up to her.

"I just―" Michelle huffed― "I didn't like California and Stanford was great, but I missed you losers too much―but if you tell anyone I said that, I'll deny it."

She gave him a sharp look but all Peter could do was stare at her with wide eyes.

"I already told Ned that I was claiming you as a housemate next semester," she said with a shrug, as if she hadn't just casually brought up moving in together, "so he already knows, I guess."

"You―You're not dropping out?" Peter asked breathlessly.

He needed to be sure. If there was any risk of her dropping, if there was even the slimmest possibility of her studying only part-time, he was ready to fight her on it. She would stay in school. He would drop. And he'd fight her over it if it came down to it.

Michelle frowned.

"No?"

It sounded more like a question, though. As if she wasn't sure.

"I swear to god, MJ, I'll drop if you need me to," Peter said, not wanting her to even think about the possibility. "Just say the word. If either of us deserves to graduate, it's you."

Michelle's frown deepened.

"What―Peter, what are you talking about?" she asked. "Why would I―Why would you need to drop?"

Peter stared at her. Slowly, his eyes dropped to the baby still sleeping on her chest and Michelle followed his gaze. When his eyes flickered back up to hers, there was a question in her gaze.

God, she was really going to make him say it, wasn't she? Did she think she'd already told him about the baby, or was she really just that determined to let him make a fool of himself?

"I just, you know." He gestured vaguely to the baby and her gaze shifted. She was analyzing him. He'd recognize that look anywhere.

"Peter," she said slowly, "do you think that Olly is mine?"

Her hand drifted back to the baby's―Olly's―head and Peter could only nod dumbly.

There was a second, a single second, where Michelle's face was unreadable and Peter's thoughts began to spiral. Before he could begin to worry about what she meant, however, Michelle snorted.

It was small at first, but then her shoulders started to shake and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth as she laughed, clearly trying not to wake Olly who was still sleeping. It lasted all of three seconds before Olly squirmed and awoke with a loud whine.

Still laughing at him, Michelle lifted Olly from the carrier on her chest as he wriggled and whined.

"Look, Olly," she said between laughs.

She turned Olly around so Peter was looking into two pairs of dark eyes: one pair laughing at him and the other on the verge of sleepy tears.

"Peter thinks you're our son," she teased, pressing her cheek against Olly's.

"In my defense," Peter grumbled, fighting the heat that ran down his neck, "you showed up here with a baby and no pretext."

Michelle just laughed louder, something that Olly did not appreciate so close to his ear. Her laughter was cut short by a loud wail as Olly began to cry, too tired to deal with either her or Peter apparently.

"Oh, calm down," Michelle muttered, lifting him up and peering into his diaper. Whatever she was looking for, Peter couldn't tell if she'd found it or not, but she stood up and carried Olly over to where she'd dropped his diaper bag.

"So, who does he belong to, then?" Peter asked. He watched as Michelle pulled out a bottle and walked back into the kitchen.

"My sister," Michelle said, bouncing along as Olly cried. "She had an emergency and I was the only person available."

She put the bottle in the microwave and turned her full attention to Olly, muttering to him in what Peter assumed was an attempt to calm him down. It didn't work, but when she pulled the bottle from the microwave and tipped it into Olly's mouth, his cries quickly stopped.

"What a monster," she muttered with a shake of her head. She rejoined Peter in the living room and sat down with a smirk. "You know," she said, "that does explain the look at the door."

"What look?" Peter asked. "There was no look."

"There was a look," Michelle insisted. Her eyes widened dramatically and her jaw dropped and if Peter wasn't already so embarrassed, he would have admitted that it was a pretty good imitation of his reaction upon seeing her and Olly at his door.

"I did not look like that," Peter grumbled. Michelle snorted. "I didn't!"

"You kinda did," she muttered. She shifted beside him, leaning until her arm that was around Olly rested against his thigh. Her head dropped to his shoulder and Peter, for the first time since she'd arrived, relaxed.

"If you'd warned me," he murmured, "I wouldn't have assumed that was why you wanted to talk."

She shrugged halfheartedly.

"Probably true," she agreed. "If you had gotten me pregnant, though, you would have been the first to know."

"Good to know." Peter stared down at Olly, tears drying on his face as he drank hungrily from the bottle Michelle held for him. "Let's maybe, you know, wait until after grad, though, yeah?"

Michelle laughed, upsetting Olly before she settled back down against Peter.

"I'll do you one better," she said teasingly. "Let's wait until we're married."

And yeah, Peter needed a minute after that to calm the onslaught of happy thoughts at the idea of actually marrying Michelle, but she didn't seem to notice.