Is it worth it
Sep. 13th, 2005 10:53 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
anmani.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
nickngregHi everybody. I'm currently posting this story elsewhere and thought I'd try and post here as well.
A/N: Hi there I have done it again. I got this idea and figured it wouldn’t be that long. But it just kept on writing itself this story. So I have decided to put it up in chapters.
He kept asking himself if it was worth it.
Was it worth going over human remains day in and day out?
Was it worth interviewing suspects who spat in your face?
Was it worth giving up all social life?
Was it worth hiding all emotions?
The nightmare of looking for Nick had triggered his doubts about the way he currently lived his life. As he stood there at the gravesite watching Nick being dug out he realized that he hadn’t really lived since a certain event. He had survived and carried on with his career; no more, no less.
30 years and he had nothing to show to the world.
No lover.
No partner.
No children.
No life.
The counselor he had seen after the lab explosion had warned him that severe traumatic events could trigger some heavy emotions, but no warning could have prepared him for this. He had an overwhelming need to prove his worth, but as what?
As a CSI?
As a lover?
As a father?
The ambulance drove off with a live Nick and he should have felt relieved, he should have felt happy. Instead he felt incomplete. It slowly dawned on him that what he missed in his life was a child. Until that moment he thought that ‘the biological clock’ was something only certain women possessed. He shivered as more pieces fell into place in his ‘life puzzle’.
“Greg?!” Grissom penetrated his musings.
“Huh?” He got in the Tahoe and his mind wandered off again on its quest to find more things missing from his life. The baby-thing was fast becoming the center of it all and he decided to call in on adoption-agency as soon as possible. The art of finding a partner was another and far more tricky story, unless he would go for one of those mail order brides. But they had all recently seen what that could lead to.
“I’ll drop by the hospital later.” Grissom accepted his refusal to go with the rest to see Nick. There were a few things he needed to do for himself before he could do anything for anybody else. He left his car at the lab and walked off into the city. Every where he looked he saw happy mothers or fathers with their offspring. There also seemed to be an abundance of pregnant women hanging around town. After a few hours of walking nowhere special he passed an image of himself. It took his mind some seconds to register and remember that picture.
His old hairstylist had taken that photo back in early 2003. She had left town a few days later to get married and she had taken all his model-photos with her. He entered the salon and was immediately greeted by her.
“Gregory Sanders!” She left her current customer and jumped over to give him a big hug.
“Mette Mortensen!” He answered her hug and he felt a little better.
“Argh who has styled your hair baby?” She looked at his hair with disgust and he knew that he wasn’t leaving without a proper makeover, and maybe that was what he needed.
“Nobody special. I gave up on it after you left my dear.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it was a good way from the actual truth.
“Så er det godt jeg er tilbage hva’?” Her Danish was more fluent than his Norwegian and indeed he was glad that she was back.
“Jeg har savnet deg.” He had really missed her and yet another piece fitted into his puzzle.
“Tag en stol derovre. Jeg kommer om lidt.” He took the chair she offered and the herbal tea she always had on the pot. As he sat waiting for his turn he watched her with the scrutiny of a CSI and what he saw displeased him. She looked thin and aged, her skin had that creepy parchment look and even a thick layer of makeup couldn’t conceal the bags under her eyes.
“Right Greg, I am all yours now. Anything special or do I get to choose?” She had switched to Oxford English, something he had only heard her do once before and that was when she had been mugged.
“Make it wild like in the old days and tell me why you look sadder than me right now.” They had always had a special connection and had often spilled their sorrows to each other.
“Han var en idiot.” She massaged the shampoo into his scalp as she started to tell him about the guy who was obviously now her ex-husband. He relaxed into the massage and listened to her sad experience of marriage. She had found this redneck from Mississippi and he had charmed her off her feet.
They had married after six months and she had gotten pregnant shortly after and he had insisted that they’d move back to Mississippi. Like most blokes he had been perfect while she was pregnant, but two months after the birth there was no more Mr. Nice Guy. He had abused her verbally to begin with and finally he had hit her. By then their little daughter was 9 months old and she had walked out the door and reported him to the police and got a divorce faster than normal because of the abuse.
“You know what the worst thing is?” Her sad eyes caught his in the mirror.
“No, can it get any worse?” He was beginning to regret that he offered a shoulder.
“I just found out yesterday that I’m pregnant… and it’s his.” She sighed and he got the crazy idea of adopting her child.
“And the sad truth is that I’m not really good mother material.” He vaguely remembered what she had told about her own childhood and all the let downs she had suffered in those years.
“My biological clock went off today.” She spun him round and stared at him.
“Mine never did. So what are you going to do about it?” She spun him back and continued with his hair.
“Adopt, cause I don’t have a woman to help me.” He had told her about his crush for a certain man ages ago.
“Did you ever do anything about that hot Texan?” She had an amazing memory and her question made another few pieces fall into place.
“No and things went kind of bad for him, he…” He couldn’t put the nightmare into words yet.
“Was it him they spoke about this morning on the radio?” She should have been a CSI.
He nodded still at a loss for words.
“Vil du have mine unger?” Her proposition shocked him and it couldn’t be that simple, could it?
“Do you mean that I can adopt your daughter and the baby you’re expecting?” He felt both hot and cold all over at the same time.
“Yes. I can’t cope anymore. Besides I need a fresh start and I wasn’t ready for children and you will be so much better than me.” Tears trickled quietly down her cheeks as she spoke and he got that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Er du helt sikker?” It was too convenient, it was too easy and too much of a coincidence.
“Definitely. Let’s call in the lawyers.” She was now cutting his freshly dyed hair and the whole situation had a very surreal feeling. He got out his cell and started searching for the law firm that had helped in a neighbor dispute, remembering that they also did all kind of family law.
Four hours later he left the salon with the 10 month old baby in a pram and the stack of papers that the lawyers had produced in record time. He was now a father, except for a few official stamps. The baby-girl had just smiled when Mette’s friend had brought her over and handed her to him.
“Louise Olivia Mortensen Sanders.” He kept repeating her name like a mantra.
The baby just looked at him and made funny little baby sounds.
He headed towards Desert Palms out of pure instinct and only a loud scream from the baby made him stop at a baby supply shop. The price on diapers and all the other paraphernalia that was absolutely necessary shocked him deeply. Mette had given him all the stuff she had for the baby and a very comprehensive baby-book, but there were a few things missing according to the book. When he left the baby shop he was beginning to seriously doubt his abilities as a parent, but one smile from the baby made it all worth it.
“Nicholas Stokes, please.” The receptionist directed him to the right ward, while she eyed the baby. Getting into the lift with the pram was clumsy work and he had a hard time reaching the button to the right floor. At the ward he was met by a front desk nurse.
“Who are you here for?” She reminded him of a guard dog, because of her no nonsense attitude.
“Eh, Nicholas Stokes. I’m Greg Sanders.” She eyed him suspiciously.
“Full name.” She looked down on what appeared to be a check list.
“Gregory Hojem Sanders, CSI level 1, Las Vegas Crime Lab.” She showed him to Nick’s room and told him that only Grissom was in there with Nick at the moment.
After the problems with the lift he found out that backing through doors with the pram was the easiest and so he backed into Nick’s room. Nick was the only patient in there though the room was big enough for three at least. Grissom was sitting on a chair next to the bed. The headrest of the bed was elevated and Nick was laying on his side, much the same way he had after the explosion. The heart monitor’s steady beep told him that Nick was sleeping and Grissom must have been too, because his boss took his time acknowledging his presence.
Grissom stared at first the pram, then him, then his hair and then Nick.
“Explain!”
“Since the lab blew up I’ve only focused on becoming a CSI and I forgot to live. This whole ordeal send me into serious doubts about my choices and my biological clock went off. So I decided to adopt. I wanted to go to an agency when we came back to the lab, but on the way I noticed that my old hairstylist was back in town. I went in thinking she could help my looks back on track. It turned out she left before the explosion to get married. He was abusive and she has just gotten divorced from him. Louise is her daughter whom I have adopted and she is pregnant and I’ll also adopt that child.”
“Should I’ve seen that you were not … living?” Grissom’s defeated look was heartbreaking. He had rehearsed the first bit on the way there, but not what would follow.
“I didn’t see it …so how could anybody else.” He was studying his shoelaces.
“Greg have you thought about the implications of … adopting?” Grissom cast a nervous glance towards the pram.
“Eh, partially. But it feels right and she is gorgeous. What meds have they got him on?”
His boss handed him a sheet with several meds listed and a brief scan told him that Nick was on a heavy cocktail of painkillers and happy-pills. A cocktail similar to the one he had received two years ago except for the antihistamines, he’d had some other stuff designed for burns rather than bug-bites.
“When did they last give him a dose?” He remembered how knocked out he’d been for the first hour after each dose.
“About an hour ago, he dosed of immediately after. His parents left after he fell asleep and Cath pulled the others into work earlier.” Grissom looked tired.
“He should come round soon then. I remember I would be down for an hour after…” He tapped the paper indicating the drugs.
Louise made a light chuckling noise and he picked her up quickly worried that she would start crying. The baby smiled at him and burped some of the banana up that she had eaten before they came to the hospital. He took the cloth-diaper and wiped her chin.
“Hey you were supposed to have digested that by now.” He cooed to the smiling girl. Grissom followed his every move as he fuzzed over the baby.
“Do you wanna hold her?” The man looked like he could do with a distraction. He held Louise out towards Grissom who hesitantly took the baby.
“How old is she?” Grissom had sat her down on his lap and studied her closely.
“10 months, isn’t she adorable?” The nice warm feeling that was spreading through his body by just looking at her; left him thinking that this was true love, for the first time in his life.
“You said that you were going to adopt her unborn child as well?” Grissom asked.
“Hmm, she is 3 months pregnant so I’m gonna need mater… eh paternity leave in about 6 months time. So I figured I would just use some of my vacation time to set this little beauty up.” He brought out the cup Mette had given him for Louise and filled it halfway with water from the jug sitting on Nick’s table.
Louise was drinking and spilling on Grissom as the heart monitor altered the rhythm causing the three of them to turn simultaneously towards Nick. The look on Nicks face was one of total disbelief that slowly merged with a more pleading one.
“Do you want some water?” He knew just how dry one’s throat could become when in the hospital. Nick nodded and he half filled the glass next to the jug and handed it to Nick.
“Wh…what?” Nick croaked after a small sip of water.
“My freshly adopted daughter Louise. It’s a long story and I’ve only had her for a few hours.” He said proudly and moved so Nick would have an unobstructed view of her.
“Your what?” Nick’s accent was so thick he barely understood the simple question.
“My daughter Louise Olivia Mortensen Sanders.” He took the baby from Grissom and held her closer for Nick to see.
“My glasses…” Grissom fished out Nick’s glasses from the bag sitting next to his chair.
“Louise O…liveeya…” Nick’s slurred voice revealed that the drugs still had a firm grip on his consciousness. He repeated the name and pronounced it in both Danish, like her mother had intended and American.
“That’s one hell of a difference.” Grissom let out a sound of admiration.
“Yeah, I know. It’s fascinating really.” He had always loved that he had a second language and that it wasn’t Spanish.
“She’s all beautiful.” Nick was regaining coherency in his speech and the brown glass covered eyes had found focus again. The little baby girl had achieved full attention from the three men in the room and she played them like a bow on a fiddle.
“If she continues like this, you’re gonna have a tyrant in the house Greg.” Grissom stated as he tried to rescue his glasses back from the baby. That move enabled her to grasp his beard and lock her soft baby-blue eyes with the old hard blue eyes and his boss melted like butter in the sun.
“I think Linds’ just got a rival.” Nick’s voice had picked up more strength and he felt a strange mixture of relief and sorrow. Perhaps because he knew just how well it would be a short lived strength, it would only last till the next round of meds.
“She sure has.” Grissom chuckled while prying baby fingers out of his beard.
“Come on Louise let go of daddy’s boss.” He helped Grissom free his beard.
“Can I hold her?” Nick had struggled into a more upright position. He nodded and gently placed the baby in Nick’s lap. With Nick focused completely on the baby he turned his attention to his boss.
“I still wanna be a CSI sir. But I need to make room for more or I’ll … loose myself.” The last two words were some of the hardest he had ever said in his life, perhaps because only then did he really see what had happened to him after the explosion.
Grissom’s face was changing through several emotions never really settling on anyone particular, but he saw fear and defeat clearly. When Louise reached out for one of the wires attached to Nick he saw love… something he had never seen his boss display before. Whether it was love for the baby or Nick or just the absurdity of the whole situation was beyond him, but it calmed his own inner turmoil of feelings considerably.
“Well we can’t have that Greg, can we?” He shook his head in response to Grissom’s words. Louise made an attempt at pulling Nick’s nose off and neither he nor Grissom could help smiling at the baby’s futile efforts.
“Can you stay here tonight? I need to go in. Or is it too much trouble with her?”
“I’ll stay, all I have for her, I have in the pram. Maybe you should go home and change first?” His nose had picked up a very manly scent coming from his boss.
A/N: Hi there I have done it again. I got this idea and figured it wouldn’t be that long. But it just kept on writing itself this story. So I have decided to put it up in chapters.
He kept asking himself if it was worth it.
Was it worth going over human remains day in and day out?
Was it worth interviewing suspects who spat in your face?
Was it worth giving up all social life?
Was it worth hiding all emotions?
The nightmare of looking for Nick had triggered his doubts about the way he currently lived his life. As he stood there at the gravesite watching Nick being dug out he realized that he hadn’t really lived since a certain event. He had survived and carried on with his career; no more, no less.
30 years and he had nothing to show to the world.
No lover.
No partner.
No children.
No life.
The counselor he had seen after the lab explosion had warned him that severe traumatic events could trigger some heavy emotions, but no warning could have prepared him for this. He had an overwhelming need to prove his worth, but as what?
As a CSI?
As a lover?
As a father?
The ambulance drove off with a live Nick and he should have felt relieved, he should have felt happy. Instead he felt incomplete. It slowly dawned on him that what he missed in his life was a child. Until that moment he thought that ‘the biological clock’ was something only certain women possessed. He shivered as more pieces fell into place in his ‘life puzzle’.
“Greg?!” Grissom penetrated his musings.
“Huh?” He got in the Tahoe and his mind wandered off again on its quest to find more things missing from his life. The baby-thing was fast becoming the center of it all and he decided to call in on adoption-agency as soon as possible. The art of finding a partner was another and far more tricky story, unless he would go for one of those mail order brides. But they had all recently seen what that could lead to.
“I’ll drop by the hospital later.” Grissom accepted his refusal to go with the rest to see Nick. There were a few things he needed to do for himself before he could do anything for anybody else. He left his car at the lab and walked off into the city. Every where he looked he saw happy mothers or fathers with their offspring. There also seemed to be an abundance of pregnant women hanging around town. After a few hours of walking nowhere special he passed an image of himself. It took his mind some seconds to register and remember that picture.
His old hairstylist had taken that photo back in early 2003. She had left town a few days later to get married and she had taken all his model-photos with her. He entered the salon and was immediately greeted by her.
“Gregory Sanders!” She left her current customer and jumped over to give him a big hug.
“Mette Mortensen!” He answered her hug and he felt a little better.
“Argh who has styled your hair baby?” She looked at his hair with disgust and he knew that he wasn’t leaving without a proper makeover, and maybe that was what he needed.
“Nobody special. I gave up on it after you left my dear.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it was a good way from the actual truth.
“Så er det godt jeg er tilbage hva’?” Her Danish was more fluent than his Norwegian and indeed he was glad that she was back.
“Jeg har savnet deg.” He had really missed her and yet another piece fitted into his puzzle.
“Tag en stol derovre. Jeg kommer om lidt.” He took the chair she offered and the herbal tea she always had on the pot. As he sat waiting for his turn he watched her with the scrutiny of a CSI and what he saw displeased him. She looked thin and aged, her skin had that creepy parchment look and even a thick layer of makeup couldn’t conceal the bags under her eyes.
“Right Greg, I am all yours now. Anything special or do I get to choose?” She had switched to Oxford English, something he had only heard her do once before and that was when she had been mugged.
“Make it wild like in the old days and tell me why you look sadder than me right now.” They had always had a special connection and had often spilled their sorrows to each other.
“Han var en idiot.” She massaged the shampoo into his scalp as she started to tell him about the guy who was obviously now her ex-husband. He relaxed into the massage and listened to her sad experience of marriage. She had found this redneck from Mississippi and he had charmed her off her feet.
They had married after six months and she had gotten pregnant shortly after and he had insisted that they’d move back to Mississippi. Like most blokes he had been perfect while she was pregnant, but two months after the birth there was no more Mr. Nice Guy. He had abused her verbally to begin with and finally he had hit her. By then their little daughter was 9 months old and she had walked out the door and reported him to the police and got a divorce faster than normal because of the abuse.
“You know what the worst thing is?” Her sad eyes caught his in the mirror.
“No, can it get any worse?” He was beginning to regret that he offered a shoulder.
“I just found out yesterday that I’m pregnant… and it’s his.” She sighed and he got the crazy idea of adopting her child.
“And the sad truth is that I’m not really good mother material.” He vaguely remembered what she had told about her own childhood and all the let downs she had suffered in those years.
“My biological clock went off today.” She spun him round and stared at him.
“Mine never did. So what are you going to do about it?” She spun him back and continued with his hair.
“Adopt, cause I don’t have a woman to help me.” He had told her about his crush for a certain man ages ago.
“Did you ever do anything about that hot Texan?” She had an amazing memory and her question made another few pieces fall into place.
“No and things went kind of bad for him, he…” He couldn’t put the nightmare into words yet.
“Was it him they spoke about this morning on the radio?” She should have been a CSI.
He nodded still at a loss for words.
“Vil du have mine unger?” Her proposition shocked him and it couldn’t be that simple, could it?
“Do you mean that I can adopt your daughter and the baby you’re expecting?” He felt both hot and cold all over at the same time.
“Yes. I can’t cope anymore. Besides I need a fresh start and I wasn’t ready for children and you will be so much better than me.” Tears trickled quietly down her cheeks as she spoke and he got that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Er du helt sikker?” It was too convenient, it was too easy and too much of a coincidence.
“Definitely. Let’s call in the lawyers.” She was now cutting his freshly dyed hair and the whole situation had a very surreal feeling. He got out his cell and started searching for the law firm that had helped in a neighbor dispute, remembering that they also did all kind of family law.
Four hours later he left the salon with the 10 month old baby in a pram and the stack of papers that the lawyers had produced in record time. He was now a father, except for a few official stamps. The baby-girl had just smiled when Mette’s friend had brought her over and handed her to him.
“Louise Olivia Mortensen Sanders.” He kept repeating her name like a mantra.
The baby just looked at him and made funny little baby sounds.
He headed towards Desert Palms out of pure instinct and only a loud scream from the baby made him stop at a baby supply shop. The price on diapers and all the other paraphernalia that was absolutely necessary shocked him deeply. Mette had given him all the stuff she had for the baby and a very comprehensive baby-book, but there were a few things missing according to the book. When he left the baby shop he was beginning to seriously doubt his abilities as a parent, but one smile from the baby made it all worth it.
“Nicholas Stokes, please.” The receptionist directed him to the right ward, while she eyed the baby. Getting into the lift with the pram was clumsy work and he had a hard time reaching the button to the right floor. At the ward he was met by a front desk nurse.
“Who are you here for?” She reminded him of a guard dog, because of her no nonsense attitude.
“Eh, Nicholas Stokes. I’m Greg Sanders.” She eyed him suspiciously.
“Full name.” She looked down on what appeared to be a check list.
“Gregory Hojem Sanders, CSI level 1, Las Vegas Crime Lab.” She showed him to Nick’s room and told him that only Grissom was in there with Nick at the moment.
After the problems with the lift he found out that backing through doors with the pram was the easiest and so he backed into Nick’s room. Nick was the only patient in there though the room was big enough for three at least. Grissom was sitting on a chair next to the bed. The headrest of the bed was elevated and Nick was laying on his side, much the same way he had after the explosion. The heart monitor’s steady beep told him that Nick was sleeping and Grissom must have been too, because his boss took his time acknowledging his presence.
Grissom stared at first the pram, then him, then his hair and then Nick.
“Explain!”
“Since the lab blew up I’ve only focused on becoming a CSI and I forgot to live. This whole ordeal send me into serious doubts about my choices and my biological clock went off. So I decided to adopt. I wanted to go to an agency when we came back to the lab, but on the way I noticed that my old hairstylist was back in town. I went in thinking she could help my looks back on track. It turned out she left before the explosion to get married. He was abusive and she has just gotten divorced from him. Louise is her daughter whom I have adopted and she is pregnant and I’ll also adopt that child.”
“Should I’ve seen that you were not … living?” Grissom’s defeated look was heartbreaking. He had rehearsed the first bit on the way there, but not what would follow.
“I didn’t see it …so how could anybody else.” He was studying his shoelaces.
“Greg have you thought about the implications of … adopting?” Grissom cast a nervous glance towards the pram.
“Eh, partially. But it feels right and she is gorgeous. What meds have they got him on?”
His boss handed him a sheet with several meds listed and a brief scan told him that Nick was on a heavy cocktail of painkillers and happy-pills. A cocktail similar to the one he had received two years ago except for the antihistamines, he’d had some other stuff designed for burns rather than bug-bites.
“When did they last give him a dose?” He remembered how knocked out he’d been for the first hour after each dose.
“About an hour ago, he dosed of immediately after. His parents left after he fell asleep and Cath pulled the others into work earlier.” Grissom looked tired.
“He should come round soon then. I remember I would be down for an hour after…” He tapped the paper indicating the drugs.
Louise made a light chuckling noise and he picked her up quickly worried that she would start crying. The baby smiled at him and burped some of the banana up that she had eaten before they came to the hospital. He took the cloth-diaper and wiped her chin.
“Hey you were supposed to have digested that by now.” He cooed to the smiling girl. Grissom followed his every move as he fuzzed over the baby.
“Do you wanna hold her?” The man looked like he could do with a distraction. He held Louise out towards Grissom who hesitantly took the baby.
“How old is she?” Grissom had sat her down on his lap and studied her closely.
“10 months, isn’t she adorable?” The nice warm feeling that was spreading through his body by just looking at her; left him thinking that this was true love, for the first time in his life.
“You said that you were going to adopt her unborn child as well?” Grissom asked.
“Hmm, she is 3 months pregnant so I’m gonna need mater… eh paternity leave in about 6 months time. So I figured I would just use some of my vacation time to set this little beauty up.” He brought out the cup Mette had given him for Louise and filled it halfway with water from the jug sitting on Nick’s table.
Louise was drinking and spilling on Grissom as the heart monitor altered the rhythm causing the three of them to turn simultaneously towards Nick. The look on Nicks face was one of total disbelief that slowly merged with a more pleading one.
“Do you want some water?” He knew just how dry one’s throat could become when in the hospital. Nick nodded and he half filled the glass next to the jug and handed it to Nick.
“Wh…what?” Nick croaked after a small sip of water.
“My freshly adopted daughter Louise. It’s a long story and I’ve only had her for a few hours.” He said proudly and moved so Nick would have an unobstructed view of her.
“Your what?” Nick’s accent was so thick he barely understood the simple question.
“My daughter Louise Olivia Mortensen Sanders.” He took the baby from Grissom and held her closer for Nick to see.
“My glasses…” Grissom fished out Nick’s glasses from the bag sitting next to his chair.
“Louise O…liveeya…” Nick’s slurred voice revealed that the drugs still had a firm grip on his consciousness. He repeated the name and pronounced it in both Danish, like her mother had intended and American.
“That’s one hell of a difference.” Grissom let out a sound of admiration.
“Yeah, I know. It’s fascinating really.” He had always loved that he had a second language and that it wasn’t Spanish.
“She’s all beautiful.” Nick was regaining coherency in his speech and the brown glass covered eyes had found focus again. The little baby girl had achieved full attention from the three men in the room and she played them like a bow on a fiddle.
“If she continues like this, you’re gonna have a tyrant in the house Greg.” Grissom stated as he tried to rescue his glasses back from the baby. That move enabled her to grasp his beard and lock her soft baby-blue eyes with the old hard blue eyes and his boss melted like butter in the sun.
“I think Linds’ just got a rival.” Nick’s voice had picked up more strength and he felt a strange mixture of relief and sorrow. Perhaps because he knew just how well it would be a short lived strength, it would only last till the next round of meds.
“She sure has.” Grissom chuckled while prying baby fingers out of his beard.
“Come on Louise let go of daddy’s boss.” He helped Grissom free his beard.
“Can I hold her?” Nick had struggled into a more upright position. He nodded and gently placed the baby in Nick’s lap. With Nick focused completely on the baby he turned his attention to his boss.
“I still wanna be a CSI sir. But I need to make room for more or I’ll … loose myself.” The last two words were some of the hardest he had ever said in his life, perhaps because only then did he really see what had happened to him after the explosion.
Grissom’s face was changing through several emotions never really settling on anyone particular, but he saw fear and defeat clearly. When Louise reached out for one of the wires attached to Nick he saw love… something he had never seen his boss display before. Whether it was love for the baby or Nick or just the absurdity of the whole situation was beyond him, but it calmed his own inner turmoil of feelings considerably.
“Well we can’t have that Greg, can we?” He shook his head in response to Grissom’s words. Louise made an attempt at pulling Nick’s nose off and neither he nor Grissom could help smiling at the baby’s futile efforts.
“Can you stay here tonight? I need to go in. Or is it too much trouble with her?”
“I’ll stay, all I have for her, I have in the pram. Maybe you should go home and change first?” His nose had picked up a very manly scent coming from his boss.
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Date: 2005-09-14 07:25 am (UTC)I am currently not able to go on the internet from home. Normally it wouldn't be a problem, but I have been sick a lot lately. Which has kept me at home. I hope that my health will improve soon.
Serenity: I am so glad that you like this, I thought PWP's was more your style.
Realm_of_red: Yes I will post the whole story here as well. I have actually only got one other story not finished. It's really embarassing but I lost a chapter for 'officially scared' and I have the rest spread on three different computers. I promise however to pick it up after this one is finished.
Shacky20: I guess Greg had to grow up eventually.
Dagdrommer: Please continue to review on WMTDB, I'd love to catch up with Clockstopper;-)
Pitza: I am glad that you find my characters wonderful, it is always the hardest part to keep them close to 'reality'.