Chapter Thirty-Seven: WARNING: Eugh. This chapter kinda scares me, just a li'l bit, at the end. But enjoy :D

Allie successfully made it to the dreaded twelve-week scan without any complications, and everything was going superbly well. Morning sickness was a new-found nemesis, and she hated the fact that Greg could no longer sleep on top of her, or the fact that she didn't feel as sprightly, or as energetic as she had a while ago. She had put on a slight amount of weight, barely noticeable, and she had the most devilish cravings for salty things. She was still as cranky as she always had been, no randomly bursting into tears on Greg, or anyone else in the lab. In her fourth month, it was beginning to become evident to all and sundry that she was with child. Sara had been a brilliant help, listening to her grumble about things that were really getting on her goat, or Hodges. Hodges was an unbearable entity for pregnant people. Especially his aftershave. Allie just wanted to lock herself in a bathroom and never leave it when Hodges was around her. In her fifth month, things were moving at a rapid speed. She'd had all the correct scans, and she was taking the recommended vitamins and pills and potions. Greg was the most loving, comforting person she'd ever seen, constantly checking in with her, helping her out with things, and still, he never left her side of the bed, or his romanticism at the door. He really liked the bump; the swell of her stomach under her bust, the really prominent belly-button - everything. It fascinated him, too, the way two people's DNA could just merge together and whoomph, there was a mini-person coming into the world like a fragment of each of them. He'd read every single baby book that his mom could supply, and Olaf had been feeding him random tips about children. Bonnie Mullins, at first, hadn't taken kindly at becoming a grandmother this early in life, but she had eased into it in recent weeks. Eric was pleased, but was now living in Poland with Jimmy Meade for a few months, almost like a belated gap year. Everyone else was thrilled, offering to babysit, or to do whatever they could when the time came. One evening, Allie and Greg were lying in bed, half-watching the TV, half-talking to each other about said TV. Greg was on the very verge of sleep, that all-important few minutes before a mind lapses into complete catatonia and nothing else can worry you. Allie, however was wide awake. She turned on her side and bit her lip. She nudged Greg and smiled, brightly.

"Hey, Greggo, wake up." Allie placed her hand atop his head and twirled a spiky strand of hair around her finger. "Greg..."

Greg stirred. His catatonic state was rumbled now, and there was no going back. Much as he loved Allie, he really did wish that she wasn't as energetic."Mmph?" The next thing he knew, there was a larger-than-normal weight on half of his torso. He opened one eye at Allie, eyebrow raised and bit his upper lip in contemplation. "Can I help you?"

Allie grinned, wildly, and kissed him, with all the force and passion she had in her, making sure one of her hands was roaming freely up and down his chest. "I think you know what you can help me with." Allie's hand had made it down somewhere along his leg, making a slight rubbing motion. Greg inwardly groaned. He desperately wanted to roll Allie onto her back and, well, ravish her completely. But with the bump in the way, it would be extremely difficult and probably not too pleasant. Greg sighed, grabbing hold of Allie's hand, and pulled it onto his chest.

"Much as I'd like to, we can't." Those were the seven most depressing words he had ever had to utter. Allie arched her eyebrow at him, very unhappy about this news. She kissed him on the cheek and tousled his hair up a little bit. Her other hand moved onto his waist as she shifted her position slightly, just in case she was squashing her stomach. Greg rolled his eyes and shifted into his side. Time for assertiveness. "No, Allie." He hated saying no to Allie, or to any other females that he knew, especially his mother, but this was a health and safety issue. Allie sat herself up, decidedly annoyed.

"You have got to be kidding me!" She smacked him on the arm, lightly, but not light enough for it not to hurt. Greg rubbed it gently and sat up.

"Allie, don't take it the wrong way-"

"The wrong way? Well, what other way is there for me to take it?! You don't find me attractive, do you?" Allie wasn't sure if she was saddened or angry about this but happy was not an option. Greg widened his eyes.

He couldn't have felt any worse if Allie had told him that was the most pathetic person on the planet and that she would never speak to him again. He loved Allie, and Pregnant!Allie was one of the most attractive things he'd ever seen. How to resolve this... "I do! I do find you...you're supremely attractive, Al, but...I just don't want to hurt you. Or the baby." Greg put his arms around Allie and kissed her, teasingly. She felt somewhat relieved, but not at all less frisky. To her merriment, Greg began kissing along her neck, hands wrapped under her back, gently kneading and massaging the spare flesh. Allie moaned and guided Greg's mouth down to her neck, farther and farther down, ravishing her in the way the both of them wanted him to.

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In her sixth month, Allie had finally moved herself away from morning sickness completely, and she'd cut her six-days-a-week down to four, trying to sneak in housework before Greg got around to it and sleep, because the baby couldn't seem to keep still in the middle of the night. Allie was sitting up in bed, reading a book, all nice, warm and cosy, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket next to Greg. His eyes were half-closed, hair spiked to an extreme, which Allie loved. One of his arms had snaked it's way under her back, his other hand resting on one of her thighs. Allie put her book down and sighed, contentedly. She glanced down at her cleavage, suddenly; she wasn't sure why they had to grow as much as they did, or why they reminded her of two bald men hugging each other, but she wasn't very fond of them these days. Greg seemed to like them, though. She examined her hands, and her swollen fingers. She couldn't remove Nana Olaf's ring without a massive struggle, and she wanted to live in her slippers, now the only comfortable choice of footwear. Women were supposed to be mega-hormonal in their sixth month, and Allie could almost see why. Nothing fit her anymore, she was as energetic as a slug from around five-thirty in the day, and she needed to pee every three minutes, so it seemed. Greg's shirts were becoming less of a treat and more of a necessity. Then, the most distressing thing, she had to bite the bullet and buy a pair of maternity jeans with a stretch waist, which almost brought a tear to her eye. Sure, she was enjoying the pregnancy, she loved people telling her how she was glowing, and she loved how concerned and protective all the men in the lab were over her. But she didn't like the immense change of freedom, and privacy. Almost everyone she met had to come up and touch her stomach, she was no longer allowed near the suspicious-looking substances in the lab and everyone wanted to be completely nice to her. Suddenly, as one or two minutes ago, she'd felt happy and content, she now felt worried and slightly afraid. She sniffled and wiped away a tear, the first in four months. She wasn't sure exactly why she was crying, but there was definitely a sense of melancholy in the room.

Greg, of course, couldn't let this slip past, pretending that he was fast asleep in the bed, three inches away from her. He opened one eye and moved his hand up and down in a soothing motion around her thigh area. "Al?"

Allie blinked and swallowed the ever-growing lump in her throat, hand over her abdomen, protectively. "Yeah?" She squeaked out, unable to trust her voice if it was any louder. She feared it might just break and send her into a spiral of flowing, unstoppable tears.

Greg sat upright, hand under his head, focused intently on Allie. "Whatcha doin'?" Crying was the obvious answer, but what he wanted to know was why was she crying. Allie shrugged and turned her head away from him.

"Nothing. I'm just tired, is all. Night..." She tried turning onto her side, but Greg caught hold of her and pulled her gaze into his eyes. He tried again to find out what was wrong, but this only resulted in more tears, which resulted in Greg in near-hysterics, engulfing her in a majorly tight hug, rubbing circular motions on her back, telling her that she was fine and dandy, everything was great. Eventually, she caved in and rested herself against him, tears occasionally rolling off her cheeks, soaking Greg's tee-shirt. Greg was still holding onto her, hand trailing up and down her back sympathetically. There was a stone-cold silence for a few moments, until Greg plucked up enough courage to say something, say anything. He was almost broken with worry about her.

"Allie? I love you." 'I love you', was always a brilliant technique to snap someone out of a bad mood.

Allie grinned. She felt much better for letting those tears out, as if she had no other tears to cry, no more negative emotions left in her system. "I love you, too..." She sniffed once more and moved back to her cosy little nook beside Greg. She felt slightly idiotic for bursting into tears in the way that she did, but she couldn't stop them. And besides, it wasn't really her fault. It was those damned hormones. "I'm really sorry, Greg, I...I have no idea where that came from."

Greg raised his eyebrows and nodded. "No, no, it's fine. Are you..." He examined her, hoping that she wouldn't take any of his words and twist them round. "Okay?"

Allie smiled. "Oh, yeah. I'm brilliant. Just had a wobbly moment, and now it's all good. I really do love you." She leant over and kissed him on the cheek. "Night, babe."

Greg nodded, watching as Allie rolled onto her side and gradually fell into a pit of tiredness, engulfed in her dreams, sweet or otherwise. He kissed her on the head and put an arm around her. "Night, Al."

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Nearing the end of her seventh month, Allie was enraged about everything and anything that wasn't Greg. Greg, she loved, Greg never had intentions of taking over her life, Greg was nice, fun and not condescending! The reason for her rage was this; everyone was molly-coddling her, trying to do her jobs for her and she hated each and every second of it. Every day she woke up happy and hopeful, but by lunch-time she just wanted to go home and clean or something, where people wouldn't be there to bug her and take the broom right out of her very hand. David Hodges, for instance, had swanned into Allie's lab and taken the blood she was running out of her grasp and tested it himself. Allie did not like that. She also wasn't best fond of the fact that her bump had stopped growing. It had gotten huge in the sixth month but now - now it was exactly the same. At the end of a particular Wednesday, Allie started to feel as though she could rest her head on her desk and stay there for the rest of the day. Grissom had seen her exhaustion, advising her to start her maternity leave. She had another three weeks left, or so she had planned, but she figured she would get more work done with Glen House than she would at the lab. Needless to say, everyone was slightly melancholic about her leaving for a few months, but Monica was more than capable of the job. And then of course, Allie spent the rest of her eighth month getting the room next to her and Greg ready. Greg painted it a really nice, light yellow, not too harsh, and bought a beige carpet for it. Allie decked it out with every single piece of baby-equipment she could find. And then came the twenty-ninth of May.

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Allie couldn't sleep. She shifted, rolled onto each side, and tried her very best to drift off to the land of nod but to no avail. Then she got up and headed to the bathroom, not even needing to pee. There was an odd, unfamiliar pressure on her abdomen which she didn't like, and then everything went slightly haywire on her. She emerged from the bathroom and hobbled into the sitting room, looking for one thing only: the medical dictionary. She immediately flicked to page six-hundred-and-forty-three, the pregnancy section. A strange, dull ache seemed to attach itself to her stomach, unable to let go, and then of course there had been the fluid that was most definitely not urine, and now, good lord, there was a pain, a definite pain. She was certain that it was just constipation or something, and it was far too early to be giving birth to anything. Instead of panicking, she decided she would go back to her bed and try and sleep it off and, should symptoms persist, check it out tomorrow. She lay down next to Greg and calmed herself slightly. Well, she tried to, but the complete lack of comfort was getting to her. She groaned and sat up. Greg was still engulfed in the sheets, head resting neatly on the pillow, short, spiky hair strewn all over the place. Allie almost felt guilty as she nudged him, yet another wave of discomfort hitting her. He stirred momentarily, wrapping one arm around her abdomen. Oho, she did not like that. Allie bolted upright and felt her panic level rising. This was not good. She shook Greg a little harder this time and mumbled something to him in a hurry, and that seemed to wake him up. He sat upright, rubbing furiously at his eyes, obviously trying to remove them from their fuzzy state.

"What's up with you?" He asked, eyes half-open, half-not-really-caring. Allie glanced around the room and frowned.

"I think...um...I think we might just, uh...I think my water might have just broke...you know, maybe..."

Those words hadn't ever hit anybody as hard as they hit Greg. He immediately snapped into professional-mode, pulling his jeans on as quick as he could, tee-shirt be damned, and picked up a giant, thick book from the nightstand, clanging into several items of furniture as he did so. He was muttering things to himself that Allie couldn't quite catch and somehow, this made the situation worse. She felt utterly useless, sitting on the edge of the bed like a huge, pregnant lump, supremely talented in disturbing the sleep of your loved one. Poor Greg. He snapped the book shut and turned to her. "Does it hurt?"

Allie bit her lower lip. She wasn't sure who, or what was supposed to be hurting but yes, there was pain. Lots of it. She nodded and looked at the floor. "But I'm only eight months, Greg...I-I'm not ready!"

Greg swallowed. This he could understand. He himself wasn't ready. He moved over beside her and put an arm around her. Inside, he was slightly exhausted, torn between wanting to sleep and wanting to drive as fast as he could to the hospital, and deeply, deeply worried about Allie. "Hey, you...don't worry about it, okay? We'll be fine. Me, you and...Ned?"

Allie stared at him, confusion and amusement painted on her face. She knew Greg was trying his best, and she adored him all the more for it. "Ned? What's wrong with Graham?" She secretly still hoped for a girl, but either way, she was pretty happy.

Greg smirked, taking one of Allie's hands in his. "If it's Graham you want, Graham you shall get." Not a chance in Hell was he calling his kid Graham. They would have to discuss this matter later, after she was in the car, all safe and cosy. It took a while, but Greg managed to persuade her into his car, giant bag of baby-things in the trunk. He sat in the driver's seat, pulled his seat-belt on and turned the radio on, leaving it at a relaxing, tranquil volume. He glanced over at Allie, who appeared to be trying to sort out her hair in the over-head mirror. He grinned to himself and started up the ignition. The drive to the hospital was a good while away, so Greg decided that he just couldn't handle the silence. "Do you, uh...wanna talk about it or something? Apparently, some girls like to tell their men about these things in detail. I mean...if you want to..." He really didn't want to hear about ovaries, or about cervixes, any other really scary, giant medical words that he couldn't even begin to decipher. Just as Allie was about to speak, Greg meandered his way in there again. "Some men film the whole thing...don't know why...maybe they post it on the internet...blogs...do you think that would pose a suitable case for copyright?" He talked, surely he did, until he wasn't even listening to himself. He talked until he ran out of things to talk about. They paused at a set of traffic lights and Allie glanced out of her window.

"It's a lovely evening." She managed. The discomfort was still there, but there wasn't any pain, which was nice. Greg raised his eyebrows at her. It was startling, how calm and lucid she was. If Greg was the one about to delve into hours of hard, grueling labour, he'd be sitting on his own in a corner, rocking himself to death. Allie seemed unfazed, but silently, she was filled with panic and angst. "Hey, Greg?"

"Yeah?" Every little noise she made, everytime she shifted in her seat - he was on high alert to it. Allie pulled the sleeve of Greg's sweater over her hand, thumbing the hem of it, quietly.

"Do you think...is anything gonna change? I mean, between you and me?" This had been her single-biggest fear, as of fifteen minutes ago. Greg frowned.

"No, I don't think so. Why do you ask?"

Allie felt her eyes burning, her stomach fluttering and of course everything else going on down there. They'd grown up so much in the last year, her insecure-pregnant mind just worried in case they grew up so much that they grew apart. Really-sane-normal Allie would laugh it off, knowing fully well that they would never drift apart. She stressed this to Greg, who only shook his head. "Allie, I'm not bored of you yet and I doubt that I ever will be." He stated, deeply. He was getting deep in his old age. Waxing poetical, Sane-Allie would've called it. "Jeg elsker deg, Al."

Allie smiled. "Love you, too." The rest of the drive was entirely silent, but not in an awkward manner. They arrived at the hospital, Greg plonked her down into the reception area while he headed straight to the nurses station. Once everything was sorted out there, he moved back to Allie and walked her down to her room. It was a public room, shared with another, really large, really vocal lady that did not want that epidural needle anywhere near her! Her poor partner was probably on the verge of fainting, or of going deaf. Greg sat next to Allie, rubbing her back gently. The nurse came in and announced that she was going to have to sit tight for a long time yet. And so she did. She waited for another five hours until Greg fell asleep. Her contractions were coming in roughly an hour apart, so she then had to wait for another lock of hours, until, finally, she couldn't handle it any longer. She was three minutes apart, so the nurses moved her into a larger room, filled with several other people, lots of masks, lots of sharp, pointy implements lying on a very shiny table. She bit down hard onto her lip as yet another wave of immense pain clutched onto her. Greg, thankfully, was sitting almost behind her, a careful reminder that he was there, but not overtly in the way of everyone. The nurses were barking out words that she didn't rightly understand and she definitely had no chance of ever pinpointing them out on a person's body if she was asked to. Everything went oddly fast after that, and Greg made sure that he was nowhere near her lower half. He pretty much stayed behind her the whole time, legs astride her arms, letting her squeeze his hand or his leg as hard as she could. Halfway through the labour, one of the chirpy midwife/nurse women asked if Greg wanted to have a quick look.

Allie widened her eyes in shock, gripping Greg's hand even tighter than she had been. "No, he does not want to have a look!" Greg just had to smile at this. After a few more attempts at pushing, Allie gave up for a few moments, resting against Greg's chest. "Greg, I can't...do this...I'm too...young!"

"Allie, you have to keep pushing..." Nurse Clarkson was just pure condescending, and Allie really wished she would disappear for a while.

"I can't!" Jeez, you'd think people would take the hint after a while. The nurse persisted, and Allie managed to block her out. She couldn't, however, block Greg out.

"Hey, Allie...for what it's worth, I think you're doing brilliantly." Huh. He would say that. "But you have to keep going. It's, like, three more pushes and then you're fine."

Allie furrowed her eyebrows, not taking kindly to this news. Three more pushes sounded like a Hell of a lot of hard work. With all the panting and groaning going on, she just wanted five minutes to be left alone, not that this was at all possible, but the hope was there. "Greg, I can't."

"You can..." Greg grabbed her hand and shifted a strand of her hair out of his way. "Come on, Al. Just keep going-"

Allie frowned, deeply. Everything from her rib-cage down was wrecked with pain. She was exhausted. She wasn't particularly keen on giving birth two weeks early and she had two nurses constantly yelling at her to keep pushing. Now she had Greg doing the same. "Ohh, gimme a second! Jeez, it's not half as easy as it looks, you know!"

Greg rolled his eyes at himself. He really should've just kept his mouth shut, as is, he had to ramble on incoherently about everything he could think of. "Honey, I know-"

"No, you don't! When the hell did you ever give birth? Yeah, you didn't!" Allie shifted forward again and let the immense pressure take her over. Never in her whole life had she experienced pain quite like this. She also made a pact that, after this, never again in her life was Greg going to touch her. She was surprisingly good at keeping quiet, unlike the lady that had been before her. That was a ruckus. She wondered if it was just her, or was this an exceptionally long labour. On TV, all the woman had to do was rant and rave, squeeze tightly onto her partner's hand and push and then, voila, there was a baby. After another twenty minutes of moaning, pushing and grousing, it was finally over. Allie leant back against Greg and managed to catch her breath. Greg himself was still getting over the shock of everything, but he confidently praised Allie as much as he could, kissed her on the cheek and finally tore himself away from her. The nurse cleaned up the small, crying bundle and handed it to Allie.

"It's a girl." Once said girl was in her mother's arms, Allie knew she was in trouble. She was never a big fan of babies, or children, but this tiny, smooth, round package was just enough to turn her. She was acutely aware of Greg's presence next to her, so she took a hold of his hand and grinned.

"What do you think, Mrs. Sanders?" Greg shifted himself onto the side of the bed, one arm around Allie, gazing down at the small one.

Allie felt her insides turning directly into mush, and of course the waterworks had to turn themselves on. "I'm thinking she's perfect." She had brown eyes, quite similar to Greg's, round, rosy cheeks, copious amounts of hair for a baby - brown, slightly golden - and the smallest set of hands and feet Allie had ever witnessed. In other words, she was adorable.

Nurse Cusack smiled at the three of them. "Any name, yet?"

Allie glanced up at Greg. Never had he seen such a beautiful specimen. Two beautiful specimens, actually. She smirked and glanced back down at the baby. "Andrina. Andrina Blossom Sanders."

Greg grinned. He liked it. He glanced up at Nurse Cusack and nodded. "Andrina Blossom Sanders."

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A/N: Hola!

Aaaw, wasn't that just a pile of ol' mush!! Ahem, anyway, only one chapter left after this. Thanks to EVERY one who's reviewed this fic, you all rock majorly, and I am forever indebted to you all. Andrina Blossom Sanders. I am really digging that name, actually. Anywho, please, please, please read and review, or just read, that'll make me uber-happy!

Okay, I only added the Frisky!Hormonal!Allie part just there, but my two cousins are here on a sleep over for the whole weekend - yikes-a-bee! Noise! - so the very last chapter might take a wee bit longer, and boy, howdy did I have to cop out on the fluff right there which I'm a tad bummed about but hopefully you guys don't mind it!

Uh, Nikki: Thank you so much for the review, it was class! Glad you liked FHB's part, LOL! Oh, wait, we're not supposed to be talking about him!

Michelle: Thank you!! I kinda really like this chapter now!

Viva La Gema: Hi! Lovin' the new name and I adore pixie sticks, LOL, and thanks for the review!

Anastasia Wolfe: LOL, thank you!! I could kinda imagine Greg doing that, which was odd!

Squee, peace, love and unity,

Mary-Lou

XOX