Sequel to Waiting for the Fire. I don't own the characters.
"What are we going to name him?" Danny asked, holding the baby gingerly as he walked slowly over to his girlfriend.
"I have no idea," Lindsay snorted. She held out her arms and took the baby. Danny leaned over and brushed her hair back. It still stuck to her head in some places, dried sweat and tears that acted like glue on her skin. She looked too pale, he worried, and he took her yoghurt from the bedside table.
"How about …" Danny pondered, slowly stirring the yoghurt with a spoon, "… Liam?"
"Too old."
"Uh … I got nothin'." He took a heaping spoonful of the yoghurt and put it in Lindsay's mouth. She smiled and swallowed it before looking back down at the baby.
"One name? That's all you had?"
"Well it's not like we talked about this. You kept saying 'we'll know when he comes.'" He mocked her words, putting on a high voice and twirling invisible hair with a finger.
"Oh shut up, you," Lindsay laughed, "I just spent ten hours shoving your kid out of my … you know. You have no right to mock me."
Danny chuckled and fed her another spoonful. "Fine. Um … Nate?"
"Cute." She thought about it. "I don't know. I really don't like Nathaniel."
"Who said Nathaniel? I said Nate."
"Nate Messer?"
"Sure, why not?"
"Not."
"Fine, fine. Dominic?"
She grinned. "It's pretty. Dominic Messer." She feather-touched the thin wisps of hair on the baby's head.
"Will you please let me propose to you now?"
"It's not time yet."
"Not time? Ya kidding me?"
"You'll know."
"Lindsay," he groaned, "you've spent the last year and a half telling me that."
She laughed weakly, "You'll know. You will. I don't want it to be forced."
"It's not forced! I love you! Now can I please just marry you already!"
She giggled. "No. Not yet."
"Jesus you're difficult." He leaned over and touched his son's cheek. The skin was smooth and delicate. He was scared that if he pressed any harder than the gentle, feathered stroke of the baby's cheek, he'd bruise the skin. The idea made him shiver slightly. "So, you think Dominic?"
"What about a middle name?"
"I'm only one man, Linds. I'm not a baby book."
She smiled. "OK, then. I'll pick it. Gorbachev."
"You do and I'll never forgive you."
"Why? He was a wonderful premier. He practically re-made Russia, engaged in talks to promote an end to the Cold War …"
"Alright, alright. I'll pick a name. Oliver."
"Dominic Oliver?"
"Yeah." He crawled over next to her and rested his head on the pillow next to her shoulder. He kissed the skin where the hospital gown had slipped.
"I like it. Dominic Oliver Messer. You want fill it out on the birth certificate?"
He smiled and took the pen from the table. "Seems kinda big for such a little guy."
"You picked it."
"Well I guess it's shorter than Dominic Gorbachev Messer."
Lindsay jokingly pursed her lips and pretended to think about it. "It sounds kind of nice, actually. Are you sure you don't want it?"
"Very funny." He filled out the little card and put it back on the bedside table. "Has he opened his eyes yet?"
"No. But he's asleep. It would be weird if he did." She winced and touched her breast. "It really hurts when he breastfeeds."
"Yeah?" Danny asked, holding one of Dominic's feet and touching it gently.
"Uh huh. And I've only done it once."
"Want me to massage it for you?" he asked with a smirk.
She shoved him lightly with her hip, smiling. Her face crumpled.
"What's the matter?" Danny asked, sitting up, "Are you all right? Should I get a nurse? Tell me what's wrong."
"It's nothing. I'm just still really … achy."
"Oh," he said, and sat back carefully. "It still hurts?"
"You shove something this size out of your dick, and tell me it won't smart for a couple of days."
Danny winced in sympathy. He reached out his arms for the baby and sat up. Lindsay placed him in his arms and turned over to watch them. "He looks like my grandfather," Danny muttered, "when he was about eighty five."
Lindsay laughed.
"Time to get you home," Danny said cheerfully.
"I haven't moved into your place yet," Lindsay sighed, "and I need some of my clothes. I'm all out."
"Well, while you were here lazing off," Danny said, earning him a smack on the arm, "Flack and I moved all your crap into my place."
Lindsay smiled happily. "I kept worrying that we hadn't done it. I thought you'd have to take the baby for a night while I got my stuff packed. Oh, did you get the crib set up?"
"Yeah."
"And his room, did you paint it?"
"Yeah."
"Did you put the sheets on the crib? Because I don't think I put them in your place, you'd have to look for them in my living –"
"I got 'em, Linds. Now stop worrying."
He picked her up and put her into the wheelchair. She fiddled with the edge of her loose shirt, once one of Danny's. She was getting tired of sitting in the bed, staring at the weight she knew she'd have to loose.
Danny lifted her into the car and fastened her seatbelt for her. Stella came out holding the baby in his carrier. Danny helped her fasten it in the backseat. Stella got in back to watch him. Danny drove home slowly, earning him several long, bleating honks from the other cars. Lindsay thought it was funny.
"I wish you'd kept the motorcycle," she said wistfully.
"What am I supposed to do with a motorcycle? I got the kid now. You think the carrier can attach to the bike?"
Lindsay pictured it and giggled. "I guess it would be a little weird."
"Ya think?" Stella added.
He pulled into a parking spot and turned off the car. "I'll get the girl, you get the kid," he called to Stella before swinging Lindsay up into his arms.
"You know, eventually, I'm going to have to walk again," Lindsay reminded Danny as he fed her toast.
"Not for a while. Take a break. It's my turn now," he murmured, holding the toast to her mouth again.
She took a bite and chewed slowly. She closed her eyes and lay back on the pillows. "I'm so tired," she mumbled.
"Take a nap."
Dominic wailed from his crib next to them. Lindsay pouted. Danny put the plate with the toast aside and lifted Dominic from the crib. He handed the baby to Lindsay and crawled in behind her to help her sit up.
"He's so pretty," Lindsay murmured, "even for a little baby."
"Yeah," Danny agreed, sliding one arm under hers to help support the baby.
"It won't be that bad," Lindsay promised, "I'll be fine."
Danny shoved the phone closer to her. "Call me every two hours, OK? Even if you don't need anything."
"Danny, go! You've been gone from work a week now. Mac is going to kill you if you're late."
"Just promise you'll call."
"I'll call."
He helped her sit up and pulled the covers up to her waist. She grabbed a magazine and sat, staring pointedly at him. He brushed back her hair and kissed her forehead. He got up and walked over to the bassinet, where the baby was sleeping. He touched the baby's arm gently.
"Bye, kid," he said softly, and went out the door.
Lindsay smiled and shook her head. "Finally," she grumbled.
"Call me!" she heard Danny holler from the kitchen. The door banged shut and she heard the lock click.
"I got food!" Danny yelled as he shut the door behind him. His first day back had gone on forever, and he'd barely had time to remember to get dinner for them. He really didn't see either himself or Lindsay cooking that night.
He chided himself for yelling once he realized that the two of them must have been sleeping. The doors to their bedroom was shut, the lights off. He carefully set the food on plates and headed into the bedroom.
The plate dropped from his hands.