"Knock knock!" Garcia announced as she opened the door. "Anyone home?"

"Yes!" Spencer called as he hurried down the stairs. "I'm here!"

JJ looked around. "Where are Chris and Alex? Aren't they coming with?"

"Oh, didn't you know? Christine left Thursday. She did two shows in Cedar Rapids and will be performing in Des Moines for five nights, and then on to Omaha, Lincoln, Kansas City, Wichita-"

"Wait," Emily said. "So she's seriously not helping plan this wedding at all?"

"Well, she was planning this tour previously anyway, and after she had to cancel so many shows to help me while I was ill, I didn't have the heart to ask her postpone any more," he replied. "Besides, I can't image there'll be many decisions I can't make on my own. She's surprisingly easy to please when it comes to things like food and flowers."

"Well, when is she going to buy her dress? Does she have one already, or are you picking that out, too?" JJ asked.

Garcia looked horrified. "He can't choose her dress for her! It's bad luck for the groom to see the dress before the wedding- what kind of a noob are you?"

"Garcia's right," Spencer agreed with a shrug. "That's the one thing she won't let me do, though I don't know why. I've bought her clothes in the past and she's always been happy with them. People's superstitions are powerful things, I guess."

"Says the man who's afraid to wear matching socks," Prentiss pointed out.

"Well, if it's just the four of us, then let's get going," Garcia said, tugging at the scarf tied under her chin. "We don't wanna keep the nice cake ladies waiting!"

When they arrived at the bakery, Garcia proceeded to the counter, and announced as she untied her scarf with a flourish, "Penelope Garcia- I have an appointment for a wedding cake tasting."

"Ah, yes, Ms. Garcia!" exclaimed the sunny faced matron who stepped from behind the display case. "We had such a pleasant chat the other day that I've been looking forward all week to meeting you! And might I say congratulations on your engagement," she added as she eyed Spencer. "You certainly caught a handsome one, didn't you?"

"Who? What- him? Oh, no no no," Garcia said, blushing. "He and I are not together. My taste runs towards the darker, more muscle-bound type!"

"Oh, yes, well…how very modern, then, to count a gentleman among your bridesmaids!" replied the suddenly flustered baker.

"What?" Spencer whispered to JJ.

"No no," Garcia fumbled, "you see, him- he's the groom. I'm just not the bride. The bride is out of town, so we're simply here to help him in her absence!"

"Oh," sighed the woman with obvious relief. "I think I understand now. Forgive me, but times have changed since I first got into the business. But one thing never changes- everybody still loves cake! Follow me, madams and sir; we're all ready for you."

"Look! We get our own private tasting room and everything!" Garcia squealed happily as they were led to a table filled with treats.

"Can I interest anyone in a beverage- coffee or tea, perhaps?"

"Oh, coffee- yes please!" Spencer responded quickly with a sentiment echoed by the others.

After she'd brought them all their cups, the baker explained, "Well now, we have two frostings here, vanilla and lemon buttercream; our cake flavors are our traditional white, lemon, and caramel; and our fillings are lemon curd, peaches and cream, strawberries and cream, dulce de leche, and red raspberry. There are plates, knives and forks for you all to share, so please, help yourselves and let me know if you have any questions."

After several minutes of oohs, aahs, and oh-you-gotta-try-thises, Garcia said, "Mmm, wow. Those are amazing. Personally, I'd have preferred chocolate anything, but since we can't have that, I'm rather partial to the caramel cake with vanilla frosting and strawberry filling because, you know, it's pink! Any thoughts?"

"I'm all for the lemon frosting on lemon cake with raspberry filling," JJ said. "It's a nice balance of tart and sweet, I think."

Emily licked her fork and said, "No, it can't be sweet enough for me. "Vanilla, caramel and dulce de leche all the way, here. But let's ask the groom. After all, it's his cake. Reid? Thoughts?"

Spencer sighed a little and sipped his coffee, then said, "I agree with Prentiss- the sweeter, the better as far as I'm concerned. However, I know that if Christine saw either the lemon curd or the dulce de leche filling she'd make some comment about it resembling pus oozing from a suppurating wound, so in the interest of decency I think we need to stick with one of the fruit fillings."

"God, that was…unbelievably disgusting, Reid," Emily said. "I think I need to change my vote and give up custard forever."

"Sorry…"

"Well, can't you call her, Spence?" JJ suggested. "Maybe she can at least help us decide on the filling? I'm sure she can decide on a fruit without actually being here."

"Sure," he said as he flipped through a photo album full of pictures of cakes the bakery had made in the past. "I'll call her right- oh! Oh no! Garcia! Garcia, look at this!" he exclaimed, pushing the book over to her. "Can you believe it? Ma'am? Ma'am, did you really make this cake?"

The baker stepped over and bent down to look at the page he was pointing to. "Well, yes. Yes, we made that. Of course, that was for a child's birthday party."

"What is it?" JJ asked.

"A Tardis!" Spencer and Garcia responded in unison.

"A what?" JJ asked again, confused.

Emily rolled her eyes. "That's the big blue telephone booth-slash-time machine they fly around in on Dr. Who…"

"It's a Police Box!" they said, correcting her together.

"Spence, think about this hard for a moment," JJ warned. "Look at me. Do you really think Christine will be okay with you ordering a Dr. Who cake for your wedding?"

"She said it was my choice…"

"Okay, let me ask it another way," JJ said, trying again. "You and I have both heard all about what she thinks of your action figures. So think about this and tell me- would you prefer to eat your wedding cake, or wear it?"

"Eat it," he conceded dejectedly.

"Hey," Garcia said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I agree it would have been the coolest cake ever, but sometimes you have to pick your battles, Boy Wonder. Come on, I'm sure there's something else in here just as neat…" They leaned over the photo album together, flipping pages until they both gasped. "Oh. My. God. Reid! ReidReidReidReidReid! Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

He stared at her, his eyes wide. "Yes, I believe I am! Ma'am, would…would it be possible to do a cake like this, one that's traditional on one side and, maybe instead of this, have the other side look like a dalek?"

"Pardon me?" the baker asked, blinking.

"A dalek," Garcia said. "It's a kind of robot that's sort of cone shaped with knobs on it, like…wait, I think I have a picture on my phone…wait…ah! Here!" she said, holding up her phone for the lady to see. "Can we make it like this one, where the frosting looks like curtains that are being pulled back to reveal this on the back side?"

"Oh. Well," she said, taking off her glasses to see the phone better, "I certainly don't see why not. We could make those knobs out of frosting or even perhaps chocolate dipped fruit, if you'd like. Yes. Yes, that would be quite easy to do- provided the bride is amenable to the general idea, of course."

"Oh, but no chocolate," Garcia corrected.

"Actually," Spencer said, "if they were on my half and not her half, Chris might be okay with that, and it sounds delicious…"

"Call her! Call her!" Garcia cried, clapping her hands. "Let's see if she'll go for it!"

"Okay," he said, dialing her. "But let me do the talking."

After a few rings, they heard a groggy voice on the other line answer. "Heeeeey, Sparky. What's up, sweet cheeks?"

"Sweet cheeks?" JJ whispered to Prentiss with a giggle.

"Hello, dear- did I wake you?" he asked, ignoring them.

"Uhhh, yeah…pretty much. Crazy night last night. You eatin' cake?"

"Yes, dear, but first I wanted to discuss with you the kind of cake we should get…"

"I dunno about you, but I'm leaning towards something with, you know, cake in it. Maybe with a little frosting on top. Can they do those there?"

"Well played, smart alec. Perhaps I should clarify- they can make these cakes in any shape and color we want, and they decorate them to look extraordinarily realistic…"

There was some muffled groaning and rustling sounds on the other end. "Great. You've succeeded in getting me awake. So what kind of goofy-ass cake are you trying to get me to sign off on?"

"Well, we saw a picture in their book of one they did that looks exactly like a scale-model Tardis, and-"

"Are you fucking high? What have you been sniffing- glue? Paint thinner? What, because the man I thought I was marring is intelligent enough to know he'd better not order a goddamned Dr. Who cake unless he is prepared to wear it!"

"I told you so," JJ whispered.

Spencer shushed her and spoke again. "But Chris, you told me that it was my responsibility to plan this wedding and that I could do it however I wanted!"

"Yes! And you should try planning a wedding, not fucking Comic-Con!"

"But I really like it! It's awesome and cool, and I really, really want it…"

"You know, if your idea of 'cool' wasn't so fucking weird, we wouldn't have these problems, Spencer!"

"But you said…"

"As the bride I retain veto power in these matters!"

"Well," he said with a sigh, "what if we compromised a little? I mean, it's still my wedding, too, is it not?"

"That depends on what kind of a compromise we're talking about."

"What if…what if they were able to do the cake half and half? I'm wondering, if there was some way for them to decorate the front of it- the part everyone will see- traditionally, would you be opposed to letting me have the back of it decorated as, say, a dalek or something?"

"Seriously? You want a cake that looks like a monster killer robot for our wedding?" The line went silent for a moment before she came back and said, "Yeah, alright. It's your wedding, too, so if you need to have some creepy-ass dalek on your half, I suppose I'm down with that. Seems fair, and strangely fitting."

Spencer raised his free fist victoriously in the air and high-fived Garcia. "Okay, dear, then how about flavors?"

"No chocolate."

"None? Not even if they only used chocolate-dipped strawberries on my dalek side?"

"Well yeah, if they keep that on your side, it's cool. But no chocolate frosting. That shit smears and I don't wanna be tasting it."

"Okay. I'll make sure that's clear. Now, we're having trouble reaching a consensus on the other flavor combinations. JJ liked lemon, lemon and raspberry, Garcia's partial to vanilla, caramel and strawberry, and Emily and I preferred all caramel."

"One question- is that dulce de leche, like, a caramel flavored frosting, or is it actual, real, oozy dulche de leche?"

"It's oozy."

"Then no. You know my dad has always called custard filled doughnuts, 'pus filled'. So I just…no. Can't do it. I'm sure it's delicious, but I've got a psychological aversion to opaque stuff oozing out of pastries. Just can't do it. Now, I actually like Jennifer's idea because I like the sour and sweet together, but I think some people might think it's too tart. So maybe split the difference. Vanilla frosting, raspberry filling and…does caramel work with raspberry?"

"I don't see why not…"

"Well, there you go. And just think- when you cut into it with raspberry filling, it'll look like the dalek is bleeding, or leaking motor oil, or whatever the hell they do."

Spencer and Garcia looked at one another, their eyes wide, and high-fived again. "Okay, dear, thank you- I think that's all for now."

"Actually," the baker said, "since we have the bride on the phone and are already discussing cake design- and it's my understanding this wedding is less than 90 days away, correct?- perhaps we can briefly talk about the design for the traditional side of the cake. Have you decided on colors or flowers yet?"

"Can you make little tulips out of icing?"

"Certainly. We can make any kind of flower you wish, dear."

"Can you even do lilacs?" Spencer asked.

"No! I know what you're doing, Spencer, and I already told you: NO PURPLE!"

"But you like lilacs, Chris," he whined. "Remember?"

"You can call it lilac or violet are periwinkle all you want, but we're not having a purple wedding! And I swear to God, Spencer, if you try one more time to slip purple into this wedding, I'm going to drop the hammer and issue an imperial decree stating that the wedding colors will be navy and orange! So unless you wanna wear a blue suit and orange vest to this mofo, you'd better think real long and hard before you bring the issue up again!"

"Navy and orange?" Prentiss asked JJ, making a face. "Why on earth would she want navy and orange?"

"They're the team colors of the Chicago Bears," JJ said. "She's a fan. And on that note, Spence, I recommend you don't choose green and gold, either."

"You're as wise as you are beautiful, Jennifer. Yes, listen to that one, Sparky. She knows the score. Besides, no one looks good in green and gold, anyway, and that includes Brett Favre."

"He's the quarterback of the Green Bay Packers, the Bears' arch rivals," JJ explained to the confused Prentiss and Garcia.

"I think we'll content ourselves with white tulips at this point," Spencer said. "If that changes, I'll be in touch as soon as possible. We'll need a cake for about 120 guests."

"Need me for anything else? If not, I'd like to go brush my teeth now. I've got total dragon breath going on over here…"

"I think I have enough to start on a design, thank you," said the baker.

"Okay, dear. Thank you. Love you. Go brush now," Spencer said and, after she'd yawned and said good-bye, he ended the call. "So what do we do now?" he asked.

"Well," the baker said, "I'll get a design drawn up and email it to you-"

"Actually," Garcia said, "just email it to me. I'll get it to him. He's still communicating via smoke signals these days."

"Okay…I'll email it to you, and if it meets with your approval, all I'll need is a deposit- we can discuss colors in the coming weeks."

"That sounds more than acceptable to me," Spencer replied. "So, is everyone finished, then? Okay, Garcia- where to next?"

"It's good we have something in our tummies, guys, because we're off to the wine tasting now!" Garcia said giddily.

"I wouldn't get too excited, Garcia," he said as they stood up to leave. "At a wine tasting, isn't it customary to spit out the wine after tasting it?"

"What about you, Em?" JJ said with a sly smile. "Do you usually spit or swallow?"

"Well now, normally I spit, but when it comes to wine, I prefer to swallow," she giggled.

Garcia chimed in, "I am so totally with you. This afternoon I'm going to swallow. I'm going to swallow it all, baby! How about it, Reid? What's Christine usually do- spit or swallow?"

Spencer paused as they were getting in the car and looked suspiciously at the snickering women. "I'm missing something, aren't I?"

"Yes, Spence, you are," JJ said. "Ask Christine about it next time you call her. She'll explain."

"If you're really lucky," Garcia added, "she may even demonstrate for you!"

At the wine bar, they were listening to the sommelier teach them about the freshly poured champagne before them when Spencer reached for his pocket. "I'm so sorry," he said, looking down at his phone. "It's my soon-to-be brother-in-law. Hello, Joe?" The others watched as his mouth fell open and eyes grew wide. "What? Are you…really? Really? Oh, wow, I…yes…and what's…oh! And is everything…and, and everyone is all right? Really! Oh, gee, well…yes…well, thank you for the call! Yes…yes…okay, then. I'll see you then! Congratulations!" He hung up and noticed all eyes were on him. Picking up his glass, he said, "Well, perhaps we should all drink to me today! Congratulate me- I'm a new uncle!"

"Laurie had her baby? Well, yay! What did she have- a boy or a girl?" JJ asked.

"A little girl- Benedetta Celeste. 5 lbs. 8 oz. She's 18 days early, but mother and child are healthy, happy and resting comfortably!"

"A little heavenly blessing," Prentiss commented. "Aw, how sweet!"

Garcia touched her glass to Spencer's, drank it down and cried, "Another round, garçon!" then added, "By the way, this is super yummy. Which one is this again? Reid, you totally need to have this one. I love it! To the new uncle- and to little Benedetta!"

Monday morning, Morgan came in to work to find all the ladies crowded around Reid's desk, giggling and gasping over something on his computer screen. "So, I take it you ladies all found matching shoes and dresses this weekend."

"No, Captain Sassy Pants," Garcia said. "We shop for dresses in two weeks! Come here and look- Reid's got something even better!"

Morgan leaned in over Reid's shoulder and watched as he scrolled through pictures of himself and other smiling adults taking turns holding a tiny pink bundle. "Oh," he sighed, his voice and demeanor softening. "Who's the little princess? Is that- that's not Joe's baby already, is it?"

Spencer nodded and smiled. "Born early Saturday morning! Her name's Benedetta…"

"How pretty," Morgan said. "I guess that makes you an uncle- again, huh? Say, you look like kind of a natural holding her- you and Chris have any plans to make a few of those anytime soon?"

Before he could answer, Garcia said, "Derek! Shhh…that's none of our business, and besides, we don't even know if she can…" she stopped, suddenly embarrassed as everyone stopped to look at her, including Reid. "It's just that, I mean…what I meant to say is…um…" she fumbled.

She stood, wringing her hands for a moment before Reid said coolly, "No, please, Penelope- what did you mean by that? 'If she can'?"

"I…I just mean…" Garcia sighed heavily, dropped her hands and blurted out, "A few days ago, I was watching TV, and they had this ad for donations for St. Jude's and she was the spokesperson because…because she was a cancer survivor. So I thought, you know, maybe that's why she always says she doesn't want to have kids- because she can't…"

"Oh, Garcia," JJ moaned under her breath.

"What? I wasn't being nosy- it was right there on TV! I just put two and two together…"

"No," Spencer said, "it's okay, Garcia. Really. And that's not the reason- not entirely, anyway. We're both just focused on our careers at the moment, that's all. Besides, you're not telling me something I didn't already know." He looked at their concerned faces and realized they wouldn't be satisfied until he told them her story. "Look, she doesn't like to talk about it not because she's ashamed of it, but because it's simply a painful time in her life to deal with. Still today she says she feels as though she lives life as though her head is in a guillotine, and that at any moment God might let the rope slip and end her life, because the fact is if it did come back, it would be a death sentence. Just before her 18th birthday, she was diagnosed with urothelial carcinoma, which is a kind of bladder cancer. The treatment was successful and she's in remission, but it's true- they did remove one of her ovaries as a part of that treatment. She was told then she should still be able to have children, but we won't know until we try, which we're not doing yet."

"But, what happens when you do try and it turns out she can't?" Garcia asked, her voice barely a whisper. "I mean, don't you want children? Didn't…didn't holding her make you think about it?" she said, gesturing to the computer screen.

"Garcia!" Prentiss whispered.

Spencer shrugged. "Yeah, it was great, and sure, I think about it. But I also know that there's no one else I'd want to take that step with. If it doesn't happen, it doesn't happen. She's a cancer survivor, not damaged goods. She's not a toy that got broken and thrown back in the box to be forgotten- she's the woman I love. That's all. We'll worry about the future when the future comes."

Garcia opened her mouth to say something but shut it again and threw her arms around him. "You are a good man, Spencer Reid, you know that?" she said quietly before releasing him.

"She's a great lady," he said with a smile.

"That's why you two will be a success," said a voice behind them. They all turned around to see Hotch standing there. "You're a great team because you support one another in your weaknesses. You're both lucky. And speaking of teams, I need everyone in the conference room. We have a case…"

Days later, on their flight home, JJ felt her phone vibrate. She looked at it quickly then stood up to lean over the seat back to talk to Spencer, who was pondering his next move in a chess game with Gideon. "Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but Penelope has urgent matters to discuss with you. First, the cake lady sent her a sketch she'd like you to see…" She held out her phone for him, commenting, "You really need to ditch that flip phone, you know? Then she could send these pictures to you rather than me."

"You sound like Chris," he murmured as he studied the design on the screen. "She and Joe are determined to get those new iPhones when they're released at the end of the month. Sounds like a ridiculous waste of money to me. Why would anyone need one? Yes…that looks perfect! I love it!"

"So then, I'm supposed to ask you next what the colors will be?"
"Definitely not navy and orange, no matter how badly Christine wants them…"

"Are you serious?" Morgan asked, sitting up. "Your fiancée asked for a football-themed wedding and you refused? What kind of man would do that? Oh wait…never mind…"

"Blue and yellow," Spencer said, ignoring him. "Not navy, but a lighter blue, like the color of her eyes. And she's always liked yellow. She says it makes her think of sunshine and summer days…that dalek on the back is going to look amazing!"

"Just make it a white and gold imperial dalek, not the white and blue warrior dalek," Prentiss said. "What? Why does everyone look at me so surprised when I know things?"

"Okay, well now your switching series between the pre- and post-Davros eras, whereas the post-Time War-"

"God help me, I'm surrounded by nerds," Morgan complained as he sank back into his seat and put his headphones back on. "He won't have football at his wedding, but somehow Dr. Who shit is perfectly acceptable to him. Geez…"

"Anyway," JJ continued, "She's also wondering if you're up for a food tasting and venue walk-through this weekend. Also, have you decided on the ceremony? Will it be in a church?"

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. "I have to wait to hear from my mother on that. Christine has a pastor lined up, but I can't get married inside a Lutheran church unless I've been baptized, and I simply don't know if I was as an infant or not."

"Okay, I'll tell her we're waiting to hear on that one, but at least you're working on it. Are you available this weekend?"

He made a face for a moment and said, "Well, to be perfectly honest, I was planning to go to Wichita to see her…"
"Come on, you can see her anytime. We need to get some of this done!" JJ insisted.

"But that's just the point! I can't see her anytime! Although, I suppose I could wait until the weekend after next; she'll be back for a few days…"

"Yes, let's just get some of this done. When it's all over, you two will literally have the rest of your lives to spend together," JJ said.

Spencer threw up his hands in defeat. "Alright. I can go."

"Great. Penelope will be thrilled when I tell her!"

A few hours later, before they began their decent, Spencer felt his phone buzz and flipped it open. "Hey, dear! We were just talking today about…" he went silent for a moment, then stood up to move to the back of the plane. Before he was out of earshot, the rest could only make out, "I see…oh…yes, yes, I understand…" After he hung up the phone, he stopped himself and drew a few deep breaths before returning to the others.

"Is everything alright, Spence?" JJ asked quietly.

"Ah…not exactly," he said, struggling to keep his composure. "Christine…Christine's grandmother is ill. Hotch, I'm going to need some time off, I believe. I need to get to Chicago as soon as possible."

"What's wrong with her?" Prentiss asked.

"She, um…she has pneumonia. She was taken to the hospital a short time ago…"

"Hey, at least she's where they can take care of her the best, Reid. I'm sure she'll be fine," Morgan offered, reaching out to rub his shoulder.

Spencer shook his head a little. "Thank you, but no, she won't. The reality of the situation is that she's 90 years old. She won't be getting better from this. We're all just going to try and say goodbye," he said, reaching up to wipe away the few tears he'd tried not to cry, "and to attend her funeral."

Gideon reached up for his hand and pulled him gently to his seat. "Then go, and don't think about this work at all. Take all the time you need. There will always be more work, but there will never be enough time to spend with the ones you love."

Spencer paused for a moment and sat down before looking him in the eye and saying simply, "Thank you."

"Are you sure this is a good idea, guys?" Prentiss said as they pulled up the long driveway. "It seems to me they would want their privacy at a time like this…"

"It never ceases to amaze me how little you profilers understand of the non-homicidal maniac psyche," Garcia replied. "Trust me, Em- when you lose loved ones, sometimes you think that what you want is to be alone, but what you really need is to be surrounded by the people you know care about you. That was my problem. After I lost my parents, I completely isolated myself. I mean, like, totally cut myself off. But my problem wasn't that other people bothered me- it was that I had this hole in my heart that was so huge, I thought the pain of its emptiness would kill me. People need to know that there's still love in their life."

"I think I agree with Garcia on this one, Prentiss," Morgan said. "Christine seems like the kind that would want to stay busy and connected with people as a way of dealing with her grief. But Baby Girl, I gotta ask- just what the heck is in this picnic basket? What kind of army are you trying to feed?"

"There's a veggie lasagna because, you know, Italian. And there's some pie. I think. Kind of. I'm not really a pie chef, you know? But at least I tried because I know she likes her pie. I made some chili, too, but they can eat that later because it's always better the next day, anyway."

"Anyone know why JJ's not with us tonight?" Prentiss asked.

"Oh, you didn't hear this from me, but a little birdie told me she might have previously planned a romantic getaway this weekend," Garcia teased.

Prentiss gasped. "Get out! Really? With whom- anyone we know?"

"Possibly, but the important thing is she's not stealing my tall, hot, steaming cup of cocoa love from me, isn't that right, Derek."

"Hmmm, what? You talking to me?" came the voice from the back seat. "Oh, and Baby Girl, you got nothin' to worry about- this pie is perfect!"

"You can't eat that pie yet!" both women yelled at him in unison.

"Men," Garcia muttered as she parked the car and got out. "And get your hands out of my picnic basket- but bring it with you, please!"

"Looks like they're home already," Prentiss observed as she got out.

"That's weird," Garcia said. "We should have been just a little before them, according to the flight number Reid gave me…"

As they went up the steps, the front door opened. "Oh! Joe- it's you! Oh my God," Garcia exclaimed, and hurried to throw her arms around him. "I'm so sorry for your loss. Didn't you go to the…? No, of course you couldn't. Not with the new baby. Is she…oh, my! Look at her! Em, Em! Come look at her! Isn't she just the tiniest, sweetest little thing you ever saw?"

Prentiss reached out and took Joe's hand before going inside to gush over the little girl. "I'm so sorry. You have my condolences."

"Thank you, Emily."

"Hey man," Morgan said, extending his hand and pulling him in for a quick hug. "Sorry about your grandma. There's nothing in the world like the love of a good grandma, is there?"

"Aw, man, you're right about that," Joe said, stepping aside to let him in. "Looks like they've got you carrying their bags today, eh?"

"Yeah, you know women- they've got a way of always trying to heal us with food, don't they? Hey, is that her?" Morgan said, pointing to the baby.

"That's her! Our little Etta…"

"Wow, look at you- a dad! How's that feel?"

"Dude, it is both the greatest and most terrifying thing I've ever done! I tell you, when they finally let us take her home yesterday, man, I've never been so scared! It's amazing how suddenly you realize on the roads that you're completely surrounded by morons and idiots who all seem to want to kill your baby with their cars!"

"You shoulda heard him cussing at the other drivers when we came down from Baltimore this afternoon," Laurie added.

"Hey- they were the ones driving like maniacs, not me! Watch this," he told Morgan and reached out to rub the baby's cheek with one finger. "Come on now, peanut. Show everyone what pretty eyes you have. Uh oh! There she goes! Hi! Yeah, look at you! Look at those pretty blue eyes!"

"Aw! Can I hold her?" Garcia pleaded.

Joe turned back to Morgan and continued, "You know, props to you guys and what you do, but me, I just couldn't handle it. I mean, look at how precious she is! How could anyone hurt something like that, huh? They had to keep her in the NICU for a few days after she was born, and my heart never hurt so much as it did when we had to go home for the night without her. And then every time they had to prick her poor little heel to test her blood, I thought I was going to cry. God bless you, but I couldn't deal with people who hurt children. I'd lose my damn mind!"

Before Morgan could say anything in response, another set of headlights shone in the driveway. "I'll bet that's them," Laurie said.

Almost before anyone could open the door, Spencer, Christine and Alex were already walking through it. They all looked tired and sad, but none more so than Christine, who appeared strangely small and weak in her silence. She didn't say a word, but walked straight to Emily, who was now holding the baby, to bend down and kiss the little bundle in her arms. From there she turned to her brother and the two embraced for a long moment, silent sobs shaking their shoulders. Finally she turned around and said, "How kind of you all to come. We certainly weren't expecting this."

After receiving their hugs and condolences, she wandered off into the kitchen, where the others followed her. She began to reach into the cupboards, saying, "I'm pouring the good stuff tonight, folks. Who'll join me?"

Without waiting for their responses, she pulled out several glasses and a bottle of scotch, and Joe said, "I know I could use one. I'll get the ice."

After pouring the glasses, she turned and handed them out one by one. "How was it?" Laurie asked quietly.

Christine looked down at her glass and swirled it around before saying, "The saddest sound I've ever heard in my life was Grandpa crying over her…"

"How long were they married?" Prentiss asked softly.

"67 years," she said at length, finally looking up. "A good, long lifetime together for two of the finest people God ever saw fit to put on this green earth."

"To your grandma," Morgan said, raising his glass.

"To Grandma," Christine replied. As she held her glass aloft, she continued, "She was born in 1916 at the old home farm north of New Lebanon, Illinois. She was, as she always put it, 'English, Irish, Scottish and Dutch, which sure as hell doesn't amount to much.' But she meant the world to me. She had three brothers with whom she shared her only toy- a ball. She wore clothes made out of other peoples' old clothes. She canned the vegetables her mother raised, potted the meat from the hogs her father butchered, and learned to quilt, embroider, and tat lace. She attended school in a one-room schoolhouse until the eleventh grade, when her family moved to the farm outside of Hampshire. That summer, she met my grandfather who was two years younger than her- he said he always had a thing for older women. In 1934 she graduated and went to work in a cannery to help put her brother through college. In 1939, she married. She had two daughters, eight grandchildren, and now ten great-grandchildren. She baked her own bread, made her own ginger ale, and played a mean hand of gin rummy. She was gracious, kind, generous, loving and good, and on the rare occasion when we pushed her too far, she'd call us a bunch of little chicken shits. It delighted us to no end to hear such naughty words fall from her sweet lips. Best of all, there was no hurt in the world so bad that she couldn't heal it with a hug and a snickerdoodle. To Grandma," she said again and, raising her glass to her lips, drank it down. Her lip began to quiver as she held her empty glass and she said, "But the worst hurt of all is losing her, and now that she's gone, who's left to heal me?" She turned and pressed the forehead to Spencer's chest, who held her tightly as her tears soaked his shirt.