Desperation

[littlebuttercup.livejournal.com]

Title: Desperation
Rating: G
Summary: Greg's tried everything.

AN: I kept meaning to write something, as I made the challenge up, but I didn't have any ideas until starry_midnight said something about babies, and some dialogue floated into my head. So if you like it, thank her. x-posted to ngchallenge



“Right,” Greg muttered to himself, eyeing the book open in front of him. “We’ve tried bouncing, that didn’t work. Then there’s singing,” he paused, cringing at the memory. “No, that didn’t help at all. Walking outside - well, it’s too hot for that, Nick might throw a bigger fit than you’re throwing.”

“Give him a bottle.”

Greg rolled his eyes at the half-closed door. “You really think I haven’t tried that? He threw it at my head.”

“He can't even hold it by himself yet, Greg.”

“He did. Five times,” Greg said, glaring at the door. “Why don’t you come out here and give it a try if you think you’re so good?”

“Sorry, babe. Gotta get this paperwork done.”

Greg mouthed the words along with him, a frown crossing his face. That had been his excuse since Brad had started crying - three hours ago. Now, maybe he was missing something, but they did work in the same lab and it had never taken Greg three hours to get his case files done. Nor had he ever brought them home. He scowled at the door again before returning his attention to the screaming baby.

“As Daddy so kindly suggested, we’ve tried a bottle, and that didn’t work. He obviously doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You know if he ever spent any time trying to make you stop crying he might just be as crazy as I am.”

“I can hear you, you know,” and Greg could hear him laughing behind the door.

“It’s a wonder that you can,” he muttered, “because I can barely hear myself think!” He sighed, and half sobbed, when Bradley’s shrieks got louder.

“Just talk to him. He likes the sound of your voice.”

Well, if that had been true, the singing would have worked. "If you stop crying," Greg said seriously, holding Bradley's tiny hand in his, "I will give you cookies for dinner."

"He can't eat cookies, Greg.”

Greg cursed under his breath. "Well, he can if we mash them up with enough milk, can't he?”

“No, he really can’t. Did you change his diaper?”

He fought the urge to scream. “Of course, Nick.”

“Give him to me,” Nick said, appearing in the doorway and Greg smiled wearily as he handed their baby over. “Go lay down,” Nick said, leaning over and kissing Greg’s cheek. “You were up all night, too.”

“Love you,” he said quietly, and it was lucky that Nick’s ear was close to his mouth or he wouldn’t have heard him at all, because Bradley chose that time to let out a deafening shriek.

“Love you,” Nick said back, kissing him once more. “Come on, you,” he said, lifting Bradley to his shoulder. “Let’s go visit Uncle Warrick.”

“Don’t stay out too late,” Greg called when they were almost out the front door.

“We won’t. Get some sleep, babe.”

“Make sure you buckle him tight,” he said quickly.

“I will.”

“Don’t feed him too much, okay?”

“Says the man who wanted to feed him mashed up cookies.” Nick laughed and shook his head slightly.

He watched them get in the car, and he watched the car pull out of the drive before he answered. “Yeah, well,” he said to the empty - and blessedly quiet - living room, “you will in an hour, too.”