Laura Zivitz arrived about an hour after they checked in. She brought a big foam cup of coffee for Andrew.

"None for me?" Lily pouted.

"I'll get you some later," Laura promised. "Right now, odds are good you'll just puke it back up."

"Oh, thanks."

The woman grinned and walked with them. Lily had three contractions in the time it took them to complete a lap of the floor. "You're really moving along, aren't you?" Laura said. "I think we'd better check our progress."

They went back to the delivery room and Lily climbed awkwardly and with some complaint onto the table again. Laura pressed the fetal monitor against her round belly and simply instructed Andrew to hold it there. "I know it's uncomfortable to be on your back," she said. "We'll be quick."

She did a very quick check, then helped Lily sit upright. "You're at six, my dear," she said. "This is what we call indecent haste for a first baby."

"You denied her coffee," Andrew said.

"Ah, is that it?" Laura looked at the monitor for a moment. "The baby doesn't seem to mind it, though." She checked Lily's blood pressure. "If you want an epidural, we need to do it right now."

Lily shook her head. "I think I'm okay. The walking really helps."

"You sure? It's not going to be available to us later."

"Honestly, the idea of someone sticking a needle in my spine creeps me out worse than the idea of labor pain."

Laura grinned. "I've always thought that, too, but I never say it." She glanced at Andrew. "You doing okay, Dad?"

"Better now," he answered, indicating the now-empty coffee cup.

"Elixir of the gods. Let's get you back on your feet," she said to Lily, helping her up. "Would you like to try the shower?"

"That sounds lovely."


The shower stall in the room was big enough to accommodate a shower chair, but Lily didn't want to sit down. Instead, at Laura's suggestion, she stood with her back to the shower jets, leaning forward and gripping the back of the chair for balance. The room quickly grew cloudy with steam. "Too hot for me," Laura said. "There's the call bell. I'll be close if you need me."

Andrew leaned against the frame of the shower stall, just out of the spray. "Is it helping?" he asked.

Lily groaned. "It's wonderful."

"You're doing really well."

She chuckled. "It's the coffee. It smelled so good."

"I could sneak you some."

"Hmm. No, better not."

Her breathing changed; he could tell that another contraction had started. Yet she still seemed no more than uncomfortable. "I might have guessed you'd be terribly efficient about this."

"We're not … done yet," Lily reminded him.

"You know," Andrew said, "I'm not going to think you're a wimp if you have pain meds."

"Why thank … you." She laughed softly. "But it doesn't actually hurt that bad. It's just sort of like work. Like running a long distance. It's not easy, it's definitely work, but it's not exactly painful. Just uncomfortable. Tiring." She paused. "For now, anyhow." She took another deep breath. The contractions were almost on top of each other now.

"Do you want your music? Ice chips? Anything?"

"No … I'm fine…. Well, not … fine, but … damn, I can't … even catch … my breath in … between."

"I'm kinda thinking you're in transition," he observed.

"Seems likely." She relaxed again.

"Deep breaths," Andrew said. "Catch as many as you can."

She took exactly four, and then she was shortening up again.

"Do you want me to call Laura?" he asked.

"Why?"

"So she can … uh … tell us you're in transition."

"I'm okay," Lily panted. "Moving … right along."

Fourteen minutes passed. Andrew did not have to look at his watch; long years of practice had set an automatic clock in his head that clicked on in any crisis. Though, he corrected himself firmly, this was not a crisis. This was a completely natural process that had gone on for centuries.

Not, of course, with his wife and his child involved, and that did make a difference.

He watched Lily closely. The contractions came at a steady, punishing rate. They were shorter, but clearly harder, and she barely had time to relax between them. He was aware that he was up on his toes, tense and ready to demand drugs for her the minute she seemed to need them.

But though the labor was definitely tiring, Lily did not seem to be in any great distress. She wasn't enjoying the contractions, exactly, but she did seem to revel in them. It was like running, she'd said, and Andrew could see now exactly how her mind was working. Running, working hard, and perhaps it did hurt, climbing this last hill, but not enough to stop. The finish line was in sight now. She was sure of herself, sure of her body. Sure that she could accomplish this incredible race that had started so far away.

Two other people, he thought, in two other lives. And soon, very soon, they would be three.

He had seen Lily Romanov do some damned amazing things. But none of them came anywhere close to watching Lily Rowan, naked and round, shrouded in steam, taking short determined breaths through one contraction after another, without complaint, without hesitation. Without fear.

The contraction ended. She raised her head and took a long, deep breath and then another. And then another.

When she had taken ten leisurely breaths, she stood up straight. "Something's wrong," she said. "Call Laura."

The nurse had left the room; Andrew grabbed the call bell and held it down until both Laura and Gina scampered in. "Something's wrong," he said.

Laura crowded past him to the side of the shower. She didn't seem to care that the spray soaked her sleeve. "What is it?"

"They just stopped," Lily said. For the first time there was fear in her eyes, wild and edging on panic. "The contractions just stopped."

"Ohhh," Laura said. "Oh, don't look so worried, darling. That just means you're through transition."

"Then shouldn't I be pushing?" Lily demanded.

"I'm sure you will be, very soon. Let's get you dried off." The nurse reached past Lily and turned the shower off. "It's all right," she said calmly. "Everything's fine. Everything's just fine. Everything's going exactly like it should. Well, maybe a little faster than it should, but just fine." She grabbed a towel and handed it to Andrew; grabbed one of her own and started drying the other side of Lily's body. Over her shoulder, she said, "Gina, call the old man back and tell him we're ready for him."

"Right away."

"Tell him to come in his slippers," Laura added.

Lily let them dry her and get her into a clean gown. She was oddly quiet, compliant. All the strength that had carried her through the contractions seemed to be gone now. She was soft, almost ethereal.

It scared the hell out of Andrew. But Laura seemed briskly, professionally calm and he followed her lead. Whatever was happening with Lily and the baby, his panic would not help.

They helped her back onto the delivery bed. Andrew scanned the room quickly and noticed major changes: There were four rolling carts, all covered but undoubtedly holding instruments. Two huge racks of overhead lights had been positioned at each side of the foot of the bed and plugged in, though they were still turned off. A receiving table with an overhead warming light had been pulled from the corner and plugged in as well, though its light was also off. It had its own attendant trays of covered instruments. They were ready for this delivery, and they expected it to be fast.

Laura had slapped the baby monitor on Lily's belly again. Andrew thought he caught just the barest shrug from her as she studied the read-out. "The baby's just fine," she said, and there was a hint of suppressed relief in her voice as well. "See?" She turned the display so Lily could see it. "Her heart rate has barely changed at all."

"Okay," Lily said softly.

Laura moved quickly to the next part of the exam and nodded to herself. "And you, my dear, are fully dilated."

"So why am I not pushing?" Lily asked.

"Because," Laura patted her belly fondly, "you're having caesurae. That's Latin for 'the doctor isn't here yet and he gets very cranky if I catch his babies'."

Gina came back in. "Five minutes," she said.

"He might make it," Laura said mildly. "She's at ten."

"Oh, good. I thought you'd go fast."

"We're taking a little break," she continued. "So here's the plan. If you're comfortable in bed, we're going to have you rest on your left side, and we'll keep the monitor on. If you feel another contraction or the urge to push, let us know. Otherwise we're just going to let you rest. All right?"

Lily sighed. "Okay."

"Do you want a few ice chips?"

"Sure."

Andrew got her ice chips while the nurses fussed with her a little more. The room was oddly quiet; the night, in fact, had gone strangely still. It was as if the whole city was holding its breath, waiting. Lily sucked her ice chips and closed her eyes, exhausted and content.

Gina lowered the head of the bed and dimmed the overhead lights. "If you want to use the bathroom, get more coffee or anything," she told Andrew, "we'll be right here with her."

He shook his head. "I'm fine."

"All right."

"How long is this likely to last?"

"Sometimes ten or fifteen minutes. Sometimes a couple hours."

"Go get coffee," Lily murmured. "I'm fine."

Andrew frowned. "You won't try to lock me out or anything, will you?"

"Not if you have coffee."

He chuckled uneasily. "I'll be back in five minutes."

Just past the elevators was a stairway. Andrew trotted down the stairs to the ground floor. After the slow pacing with Lily and the standing by the shower, it felt good to stretch his legs a little. He ducked into the public men's room outside the cafeteria, then went in and got a large cup of coffee. He put it in a second foam cup and put a lid on it. It would probably still be cold before Lily was allowed to drink it.

On his way back up the hall to the elevators, he passed a door with a small stained glass window and a sign that said Chapel. He hesitated, then went back. Hesitated again with his hand on the handle. Finally, he pushed the door open and went inside.

It was a small room, neat and completely non-denominational. Three short rows of pews, an altar with fresh flowers on it. Low lights. The soft hum of the hospital's ventilation system. Nothing more. And yet he could hear the echoes of prayers here. So many people, praying in thanks, in fear, in grief. So many tears had fallen in this room. With only the barest trappings of any religion, it was still a holy place.

He stood with his back against the door. He could not sit here. It would be presumptuous. His being here at all was probably offensive to God. If there was a God.

He knew there was. He just didn't know if they were on speaking terms. It had been a very long time.

And yet …

"God," he said, very quietly. "I know I haven't been …" He stopped. "You know what I am. I don't ask anything for myself. I don't deserve it, and You know it as well as I do." He hesitated again. "But that girl upstairs. You know what she is, too. What she's been through. What she's … what she's meant to me. If You could just … if You could see her through this, protect her … don't let any harm come to her, to her child …" He closed his eyes, squeezing back tears. "I don't suppose You make deals," he said dryly. "But if any harm has to come to anybody tonight, please let it be me."

Andrew took out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes roughly. Then he shoved it back into his pocket and hurried to the elevators.


Zivitz was taking his coat off at the nurses' station. "Well, there you are," he said warmly, shaking Andrew's hand. "Couldn't find an open bar, huh?"

"Just coffee, I'm afraid."

"Just as well. Sounds like you'll need to be paying attention in there. A first baby comes this fast, the second generally comes faster."

"You're really not making me feel any better, Doctor."

Zivitz nodded. "Just giving you the facts, son. Let's go see your wife."

Lily was, apparently, asleep.

The doctor looked at the fetal monitor, then at her chart. Then he went down the hall to check on the other mothers and babies. Andrew sat in the rocking chair next to Lily and took her hand gently. She did not stir.

Zivitz came back in fifteen minutes and looked at the monitor again.

Lily opened her eyes sleepily. "Hi there."

"Hello, young lady. Have a nice nap?"

"I did, yes."

"How do you feel?"

She considered. "I'm hungry."

"Are you, now? Laura tells me you're ready to have this baby."

"She tells me the same thing."

Zivitz glanced around. "You all set, Gina?"

"Everything's ready to go," she said.

"Well, then, let's see about getting this baby delivered so Mom can have some breakfast."

Andrew stood up. "What are you going to do?"

"We're going to have her roll onto her back again and give us just a little push. I know you don't feel it yet, but sometimes babies need a little prompting."

Gina put the lights back up to full and raised the head of the bed again. Once Lily had turned, it took a moment to adjust the fetal monitor again. They got her to put her feet on the sides of the bed and draped a sheet over her raised knees, which Andrew guessed was mostly for his benefit. Zivitz said gently, "Just a little push now."

Lily grasped her knees and curled her shoulders forward, as they'd practiced in Laura's class. She clenched her teeth and pushed.

"Once more," Zivitz said.

Andrew watched her face anxiously for any sign of discomfort. What he saw instead was a sudden astonishment. "Oh, hell!" Lily said. She rolled upward without help, and suddenly her whole body seemed to be pushing, from her eyes to her feet.

"Good, good," Zivitz murmured comfortingly from the foot of the bed.

Gina counted slowly to ten. "Now relax, take a deep breath and do it again," she coached.

Lily did exactly as she was told.

Her concentration, her focus, were absolutely astounding to Andrew. Her eyes went wild, but it was not in pain. It was something more, something basic and primal. Something pure. Lily as woman, Lily in complete accord with her body.

Gina got to ten again and Lily uncoiled, flopped back against the bed, her eyes coming into focus again.

"Very good," Zivitz said. He stood and stripped off his gloves, then swiftly stuffed his arms into the gown Gina held for him and got new gloves.

"I would like to report," Lily answered mildly, "that 'urge to push' does not begin to describe that."

"We know," Laura answered. She hurried across the room and turned on the warming lights, then the lights at the foot of the bed. She rolled the instrument carts closer as Zivitz settled onto his stool between Lily's feet again. "But we don't know what else to call it."

"There isn't a good description," Gina agreed. She glanced up at the monitor. "Here we go. Deep breath and push."

Lily coiled into position again as if it was instinct. Andrew moved closer, supporting her back and shoulders this time, but she didn't need him; her body was taut, hard with effort. When she finished the push, however, she went limp against his arm.

"Breathe and push again," Gina urged.

Laura looked over Zivitz' shoulder. "You're doing great, darling. One more breath and push. You can do it."

Lily breathed and coiled again. Andrew could feel her start to shake with effort this time, but she pushed full-out for the ten count.

When she had relaxed back again, Zivitz said, "All right, now listen, young lady. About one more push and this child's head will be out. When that happens, I'm going to tell you to stop pushing and pant. You will still want to push. Pant, don't push. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"And Laura?" Zivitz said. "Next time, sign them up for the advanced childbirth class."

"The one that includes the do-it-yourself chapter?"

"That's the one."

"Here we go," Gina said.

Lily curled forward and pushed again, and Zivitz said, sharply, "Stop. Don't push."

"I can't," Lily cried in frustration.

Andrew leaned over, his face nearly touching hers. "Pant!" he commanded. "Don't push, for one minute. Just pant. Pant!"

He panted with her. It made him light-headed. But she managed – they managed – not to push, briefly.

A child's small harsh cry filled the room.

"Okay," Zivitz said. "Now just a little push. Little."

Lily growled and pushed, and then she flopped back against Andrew's arm again, her desire to push suddenly gone.

The child cried again.

Andrew stared at his wife, his Lily, suddenly calm and relaxed in his arms. There was nothing but him and her, this luminous, astonishing woman, her eyes tear-filled and sparkling up at him.

Then Zivitz said, "Congratulations! It's a girl!"

Andrew leaned back and looked toward him. The doctor was standing, holding above the drape a small white thing, covered in blood and white-yellow ick, black hair at one end, stick-like arms and legs stuck straight up, screaming. Gina scrambled to throw a towel over Lily's belly, and Zivitz lay the baby there face-down. The baby continued to scream.

Her little arms and legs grasped frantically at Lily's sides. By instinct, Andrew pulled the edges of the towel up over her little body and rubbed her skin, trying to clean her, to comfort her. His long fingers completely covered the infant, keeping her from falling, keeping her warm. Lily's hands joined his. They rubbed her hair, her back, her tiny arms and legs and ridiculously small butt.

The baby's face was turned toward him. For a moment she stopped screaming and her eyes opened. They were blue. Not newborn blue, but steel gunmetal blue. His eyes.

"Hello, beautiful," he whispered.

He managed to look from her to Lily. "She's beautiful."

Lily was crying. He moved to kiss the tears off her cheeks, never taking his hands off their child. "Oh, she's beautiful. And you're beautiful."

Zivitz said, "Do you want to cut the cord, Dad?"

"No," Andrew answered. "I have beautiful girls to look at."

The voices, the hands, the sound of her mother's heartbeat all calmed the child. She stopped screaming. Her eyes remained wide open. She seemed to be looking around, taking in her new world. She looked amazingly wise.

"An old soul," Laura said over his shoulder.

"It wouldn't surprise me," Andrew agreed.

Lily shuddered suddenly. Andrew glanced up at her again; her damp eyes were full of fear. "Take her," she said.

"What?"

She shuddered again. Her face was whiter than the hospital sheet. "I can't … I'm so … cold … take her!"

Instinct took over before reason caught up. He swept the baby up, his long fingers cradling her head, without even looking at her. "Lily, what's wrong?" He turned to Laura. "What's wrong with her?"

The nurse shouldered him back from the bed and draped a light blanket over Lily's chest, and then another one. "She's all right," she said firmly. "She's a little shocky. It will pass. Perfectly natural, when you lose that much weight that quickly."

"Weight?" Andrew asked vaguely.

"Between the baby and the fluid, the placenta and the bleeding, it's quite a lot for a body to adjust to. That's one reason slower deliveries are better."

Zivitz stood up, peeled off his gloves. "It's about the only reason slower deliveries are better," he said. "It will pass in a few minutes, I promise."

"It's okay," Lily panted. "I just didn't want to drop her."

"I've got her," Andrew promised.

"Quite a lovely pair of lungs that one has," the doctor said. "You did very well, my dear. Very well indeed."

"We knew you would," Laura added. She produced a small plastic container of orange juice, shook it briskly, jabbed a straw through the foil lid, and held it to Lily's lips.

Lily continued to shiver; her teeth chattered as she drank. But her eyes cleared, focused again on the child. "She has your eyes," she said.

Andrew glanced down. He had barely noticed he had the child cradled against his chest. She was looking up at him with her unnervingly calm gaze. "Yes," he said. "Let's hope she doesn't get my eyebrows, too."

Lily laughed, and a whole new spasm of trembling ran through her.

He looked down again at the baby. The baby with his eyes, yes, but her mother's mouth and nose and, thankfully, chin. Their daughter. His and Lily's. After all the years, all the miles. All they had left behind. This was what they had gained.

His own hands began to tremble, and he gathered their child closer. There was no question. She had been worth everything.

He would kill for her, or die for her, this precious little life. And he would live for her.

And so would Lily.

He looked up at his wife. She was watching him, and she was crying. He was only a little surprised to find that he was, too. He wanted to wipe his eyes, but both hands were wrapped around the baby. He couldn't let go.

He wasn't ever going to be able to let go.

Lily gestured, and he moved closer to the bed again. She brushed his cheeks with her fingertips. Her hands were still icy, still trembling, but she didn't seem to mind. Their daughter was safe and well, and for a moment everything was perfect.

The baby sighed heavily, as if she grew tired of their attention. Then she drew a deep breath and wailed.