"Are you sure you should be here, Van Pelt?" Lisbon watched the woman rise slowly from her chair.
"I'm sure," she laughed. "My mom milked cows the day I was born. I'm not even due for another week. I'm sure I can handle a little typing."
Rigsby was scowling, "Did your mother have ankles swollen to twice their normal size?"
Cho choked on his coffee and Jane patted him firmly on his back.
Van Pelt narrowed her eyes at the man, "Well, thank you so much for that, Rigsby. It was just what I needed to hear right now."
Lisbon coughed to cover her laugh and escaped to her office.
Jane smiled broadly at the pair.
Van Pelt rose to make another trip to the bathroom.
A few nights later Rigsby awoke to his phone ringing, "Rigsby," he tried to decipher the numbers on his alarm clock, but couldn't quite manage.
"It's Grace."
He was instantly awake and rooting around his drawer for some clean jeans, "The baby?"
"I think so," her voice sounded so far away.
He managed to throw on some clothes as he spoke to her, "How far apart are the contractions?"
"Seven minutes?"
"Are they bad?" he tried to shove his feet into his shoes as he filled his pockets with all the necessities.
"No," she gasped making him think she must be lying.
"Have you called the hospital to let them know you are coming?"
"No," the word squeezed out.
"Okay, Grace," he left his apartment and dashed toward his car, "don't talk until it is over."
She made a noise of agreement.
He broke every speed limit on the way to get her, but had his badge available in case he was stopped.
Grace was standing by her door, bag beside her when he arrived. She opened it before he could knock.
"You in the middle of one?" he looked at her face. "We can just stand here and wait it out."
"No," she laughed a little. "I was just looking at your outfit."
He looked down, "Great," he muttered. "Just great."
"Do you want to come in and turn it around?" she asked of his shirt.
"No," he picked up her bag and took her arm, "Let's just do it at the hospital. I mean," he opened the car door and helped her in, "I'll do it."
She laughed and tried to buckle herself in. Rigsby smiled at the attempt, "Let me help you with that."
Seeing she was not too uncomfortable, Rigsby did not chance the trip to the hospital but drove moderately.
Van Pelt had two contractions during the trip and was beginning a third as they pulled into the ER lot.
"Just breathe through it, honey," he rubbed her back as he spoke.
Van Pelt leaned forward and did as she was told.
When the pain eased, Rigsby helped her from the car and hurried her into the ER.
"Are you preregistered?" the receptionist had too large a smile for someone working at three a.m.
"Yes," Rigsby knew Grace would have taken care of that. She smiled at him for answering for her.
"If you would have a seat, we'll have someone from o.b. come down to escort you up."
Rigsby couldn't sit. He paced the floor, watching Grace sit calmly on one of the vinyl seats.
"First baby?" a middle aged woman smiled at him as he passed by.
"Uh," he wasn't interested in explaining the whole situation, but he didn't want to lie. "Yeah."
"Your wife looks pretty calm."
Rigsby looked at the woman across the room, his love for her making his heart feel as though it would explode, "She usually is."
Just then another contraction hit. Rigsby nodded at the woman and went to help Grace find a comfortable position. He knelt in front of her and she leaned against him.
"They're getting closer," he whispered into her hair.
"I know that," her words held a little bite, but he didn't take offense.
"Just means the baby will be here that much sooner."
She nodded into his neck, gripping his upper arms with a strength he didn't know she possessed.
By the time it had passed, the ob nurse was standing beside them, "Are they getting closer?"
Wayne looked at his watch, "About five minutes now, I'd say."
Grace allowed him to help her to her feet, but she declined a wheelchair.
Consequently, she ended up leaning heavily on Rigsby part of the way up. The next contraction hit so hard, she had no strength afterward. Wayne took it in stride. He simply lifted her into his arms and carried her off the elevator.
The nurse smiled, "I'll find you that wheelchair now."
He was loathe to put her down, but he knew she would be more comfortable in the chair so he gently deposited his burden as soon as the nurse reappeared.
The nurse did not ask Rigsby to leave while she helped Grace change nor while she examined her. Grace didn't seem to mind, so Rigsby simply averted his eyes and remained.
"Would you like anything for the pain?"
"Not yet," Grace shook her head, keeping her eyes on Rigsby. "I think I can handle it right now."
The nurse smiled at the young couple. By the lack of wedding rings, she guessed they were still unmarried, but it was clear the woman gained her strength from the man beside her.
"Just don't wait too long. After six, we can't give you anything."
Grace nodded.
Wayne lookedup, "What is she at now?"
"Five, but since this is your first, it will probably take a while to get there."
Rigsby watched as Grace prepared for another contraction. She rose from her sitting position and leaned against the bed. He held her steady, encouraging her to keep breathing.
When it was over, he rubbed her back and helped her sit back down.
"Maybe you would like to try the whirlpool," the nurse suggested.
Wayne looked at Grace, asking her with his expression. She nodded.
"Okay," he said.
"I'll get it ready."
Grace was still wearing her underwear and a sports bra. Despite the fact that Rigsby had seen her in less, he had no memory of it and there was no way she wanted him to see her in the altogether right now. She would go in as she was.
The nurse helped her into the tub. It felt wonderful, but she wanted him in the room with her.
"Could you hand me that towel?" she asked the nurse who did so, "and then could you see if Rigsby would come in here?"
The nurse laughed, "Rigsby?" she had been introduced to him, but apparently didn't catch his last name.
"Wayne," Grace panted out as she felt another pain forthcoming.
The nurse rose and went to get him from the room. Grace lay the towel over her. It didn't cover much, but it helped some.
He knelt beside the tub and pulled her head against his shoulder, supporting her.
As it eased she looked up at him, "Your shirt is still on backwards," she laughed.
He looked down, grimaced and ripped his shirt off, intending to turn it around. However, the nurse chose that moment to reappear.
"Oh," she smiled, "I see you're one step ahead of me. I was going to tell you that some couples find it helpful for the daddy to get in the tub to hold Mama up. I'll leave you alone then. Just call me if you need anything. I won't come in unannounced again."
Grace looked up at him, her face on fire, "Sorry about that, Rigsby."
"It's okay, Van Pelt," he brushed her damp hair from her face. "I could have said something too."
She smiled, but it was cut short by another contraction. They seemed to be less intense now that she was in the water, but it was hard for her to get comfortable between. Wayne knew what he had to do. He stood up and slipped his shoe and socks off before stepping back to unfasten and drop his jeans.
Grace didn't say a word. She just leaned forward to make room for him. Once he was in the tub, he pulled her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her.
So comfortable was the position that Grace actually fell asleep. She barely roused for the contractions, just making soft groaning noises to indicate they were still occurring.
At some point, Grace's towel slipped from her belly. Rigsby then got to see the beautiful expanse of her skin. Occasionally, he could see a foot or elbow move beneath the surface.
The contractions were getting more frequent and one must have been harder than the previous ones because Grace woke up. As soon as the pain subsided, she began looking for the towel.
"It slipped off so I threw it out of the tub. It seemed like the friction was bothering you."
She didn't try to pull away from him, but he could feel her tense up.
"How long have we been in here?"
"About an hour and a half."
She nodded.
"Are you cold?"
She shrugged.
He toed the warm water knob and then tested the temperature with his foot.
She laughed softly, "Very talented feet."
He chuckled.
"Can you reach another towel?"
He glanced behind himself. It might be possible.
"Why? Do you want to get out?"
She shook her head.
"You want to cover your belly so I can't see it."
She nodded.
"I think you would be more comfortable without it, Grace."
She probably would have argued, but another contraction hit. She struggled to sit up, so he pulled her up into his arms, rubbing her belly as he whispered nonsensical words into her hair.
"I know you didn't mean to get this involved, Wayne."
"What do you mean?" he was still rubbing her belly.
"You have to carry me, and hold me up, and now you have to see me at my ugliest."
Risgby eased her back against her chest, "I don't mind the carrying or supporting, Grace. I had an idea what I was volunteering for when I said I would do this. And as for ugly," he laughed, "you've never looked ugly a day in your life."
She pointed to her protruding gut, "Are you saying this isn't ugly, grotesque?" tears laced her words.
He wrapped his legs around hers and reached forward to touch her stomach with both hands, "This is beautiful, Grace. Your belly, your face, the rest of your body. All of you is beautiful."
Grace needed to tell Wayne the truth, and had not the fiercest of all contractions ripped through her at that moment, she probably would have.
When it was over, he reached for the call light, "That was worse. I'm going to get your perky nurse in here."
Grace attempted a laugh.
"Can I help you?"
"I think Grace needs to get out of the tub," he wondered how they were going to do this delicately, but it wasn't his first concern.
"I'll be right in."
Rigsby eased himself out from under Grace and stepped out of the tub.
Now Grace did laugh. She couldn't see him since he was standing behind her, but she knew what he was doing, "You should have stayed where you were. It would have been a bonus for the nurse."
He finished wrapping the towel around himself and reached for another one, "I am not interested in providing that kind of bonus," he pulled her to her feet and helped her from the tub.
Her undergarments were wet and she was going to need to remove them. Again Wayne came up with the solution.
"Let's wait out this next contraction and then you can change into the dry gown."
He was smart to wait. It hit just after the last word left his mouth.
"Everything okay in there?" perky nurse called out.
"We'll be out in a minute and a half," he spoke loudly enough to be heard.
The contraction lasted nearly that long, and then Wayne turned around so Grace could get into her gown. The bra was no problem. The panties were.
"You okay?" he asked, resisting the urge to look.
"No," she admitted. "I think I need the nurse."
"Put on the gown."
She did so.
He turned and opened the door, "I think she could use some help with her wardrobe," he told the nurse.
The nurse gladly took charge, leading the laboring woman from the bathroom.
Rigsby closed the door to strip off his wet shorts and pull on his jeans. His shirt had gotten a little damp in the process of exiting the tub, but he donned it anyhow.
By the time he got back into the room, Grace was lying down with her knees up. She was crying.
"Is it really bad?" he hurried to her side and took her hand.
"I want drugs, but she says I am too far along."
Wayne had to swallow his smile at her petulant tone. He looked at the nurse, "She passed six?"
"Flew past it," the nurse removed her glove, "and seven and eight. The only thing we can give her now is an epidural."
"So, give it to her," he instructed.
"I'll call and order it, but we will have to wait for the anesthesiologist to come do it."
Grace sobbed.
"Perhaps if you sat behind her like you did in the tub, you could support her while she waits."
So he did, but the anesthesiologist did not show up for half an hour.
Grace had tried standing, kneeling, crouching and lying on her side, but nothing was making her more comfortable.
The nurse came in with Grace's doctor, "Well, Grace, I hear we are going to see your son very soon."
Grace, at the moment, was lying on her side, using Rigsby as a pillow to shore her up. She groaned.
"Agent Rigsby," the doctor smiled at the man he had met at a couple of Grace's appointments, "so nice to see you again."
Rigsby only nodded, "Is someone coming to give her something?"
"I'm just going to check her to see how far along she is. He is on his way up in the elevator as we speak," the doctor was working as he spoke, "but we'll have to get this number, oh."
Grace groaned louder.
"Oh?" Rigsby brushed her hair back and tried to comfort her with a hand on her shoulder.
"I think we can tell the anesthesiologist to pass us by."
"No," Grace sobbed, "no, we can't."
"By the time he could get the line in, your little boy would be out. Can you push from that position or do you want some help getting on your back?"
"Push?" she sounded confused.
"You don't have to, of course," he seemed to be directing the traffic that had suddenly increased in the room. "He'll come out one way or another. In fact, he is crowning already."
Rigsby was not going to look down there, but he was in awe of the miracle that was happening. He helped Grace turn on her back and then pulled her back up to himself.
"You can do this Van Pelt," he whispered in her ear. "You're the strongest woman I know."
She shook her head, "It hurts, Wayne. I can't do it."
"It may feel better to push," the doctor suggested.
So she tried.
"Good," the nurse beamed up at her. "That was a good, strong push."
Grace breathed heavily. Wayne held his arms so she could brace herself against them.
"Go ahead, Van Pelt," he urged her, "show us what you're made of."
Grace pushed harder this time. Rigsby could tell she pushed harder by the pressure against him.
She slumped back against him with such a cry of relief, he nearly toppled. Then he looked down and saw what the cry was really for. Dr. Rogan held in his hands a squirming little boy.
"That was fast," he commented as he brought the baby up to Grace's chest.
Rigsby stayed where he was and assisted the nurse in pulling the blanket over mother and child.
Grace seemed content to lay back against him.
"He's beautiful, isn't he?" she was using the corner of the blanket to wipe the fluids from the tiny face.
Wayne had never seen a newborn, and he knew the general consensus was that they were rather wrinkled and homely. However, when he looked at this child, he couldn't help but agree with the new mother.
"He is, Grace. He's beautiful."