Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and sorry for the delay. :) Hope you like this chapter, and chances are I'll have another up shortly... after not writing for days, I'm itching to.

To answer a question, 'Ayla,' in my head, is pronounced with the A sound, not the I. But, if you feel particularly inclined to pronounce it differently, I'm okay with that. For the purposes of this story, the most important part is the meaning. :) Which you guys will see, eventually...

Now, onto this chapter--I asked some women in my life who've given birth and did my share of research via the google machine (despite it failing me in the end of Dead Ringer), but I myself have not yet had the pleasure (or pain), despite my future mother-in-law thinking we need to get on with it already. :) So, my descriptions are adapted from knowledge I gained second hand and may not be as accurate as many of you women could do, based on your own experiences. I'm sorry about that--I did my best.

Chapter Fifty Eight:

I didn't need to be induced.

Gil and I got up and showered together, and though this time around the shower was much larger—a full sized shower/tub—I was so much bigger that it felt just as cramped at the tiny shower we'd shared on the cruise ship. He didn't seem to mind though—in fact, it almost seemed like my massive belly was as attractive to him as any other part of me, including some he had been known to lavish attention on in our limited past encounters.

We dressed and he ordered us room service for breakfast while I dried my hair as best I could with the low-powered hair dryer on the wall that made the bathroom lights dim when I turned it on, and put it up in a ponytail for simplicity's sake.

After breakfast, with a little reluctance, we packed up our things and put them in Gil's car, headed toward the home and prison I shared with Jace, to pick him up and drive to the hospital. Gil was surprisingly good-natured as I drove us towards what would undeniably be an awkward situation. His face was decidedly calm, his hands relaxed on his thighs where he sat in the passenger seat, watching the cityscape of Boston and talking about different lectures he'd given here over the years and a Red Sox game he'd gone to when the Harvard forensic anthropology teacher had given him tickets to thank him for making the trip on such short notice.

Meanwhile, my stomach was full of butterflies. Which was saying something—my abdomen had very little room left for anything, at this point. I wasn't sure what to do when we pulled into the driveway… Did I take him inside to find Jace, give him a tour of the house, reintroduce the two? 'Oh Jace, husband who I have wanted to divorce since I slept with Gil Grissom, you remember Gil Grissom, right? The last time you two saw each other, he punched you and said that your baby was his… and I spent last night in his hotel room, while you spent the night alone in bed, waiting for the next day in which I would give birth to said baby…'

I mean, really, there was no tactful way to deal with the situation. Maybe I'd been crazy to think this would be easy. I was gnawing the skin off my bottom lip when we pulled onto the street and Gil, sensing we were about there, reached over and placed a gentle hand over mine, clenched and white-knuckled on the steering wheel. "Don't worry, honey. It's all about you today—I promise I'll play nice."

We turned into the driveway and the butterflies disappeared—instead, I felt this tight, looming sense of foreboding deep within me, in the pit of my stomach. I was certain I was going to hyperventilate. We didn't go inside—Jace was already outside, locking the door, the bag we'd had packed for me for weeks in hand, and then Gil had jumped out of the front seat and slid into the back, deferring the place beside me to Jace. I wasn't sure, exactly, whether I liked or hated it, but the flash of surprise on Jace's face and his lack of snide remarks made me thankful. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

The feeling, the nervousness, didn't go away, however, even as we pulled onto the freeway. There was even small talk—Jace asked how I'd been feeling and if I were nervous, and when my responses were short and tense, Gil asked Jace, "Are you nervous or excited, for the birth of your daughter?" My eyes went wide with Jace's… he was deferring fatherhood to Jace. Jace managed a small smile even, glancing into the back seat, and with a glimmer of hope I thought maybe we were at a turning point—he would see that Gil and I had no intention of taking Ayla from him, and he would let me go without a fight…

They discussed his nervousness, and excitement… the nursery… and still the feeling didn't subside. Shouldn't I be feeling better, now that they were at least being civil, even if the conversation was decidedly uncomfortable? But no, the feeling of impending doom persisted. It wasn't helped by the back pain which had been plaguing me for months but which seemed to be much worse than normal today, almost throbbing, or the headache that was coming on with surprising rapidity that I blamed on the little sleep I'd gotten the night before.

And when a shudder of pain rolled through me, like the worst cramp I'd ever had on my period but so much worse… I couldn't help it. I gasped, gripped the steering wheel tightly, and closed my eyes.

We were lucky that Jace had been paying attention—he caught the steering wheel, keeping us from hitting another car—and calmly spoke to me, despite the precarious nature of our situation. "Sara… Sara, honey, open your eyes."

I snapped them open, still in pain though it was receding, realizing with no small amount of surprise that I was still driving, thankful the cruise control had been on. I didn't know what to do—I was driving, I was pretty sure that had been a contraction—and a bad one, at that… Would they all feel like that?—and I was in the middle of four lanes of traffic.

"Sara…" I turned to look at him, quickly, eyes darting between his eyes and the road. "Turn on your blinker and your hazards, switch lanes to the right… take this exit coming up here. Okay?"

I nodded, going through the motions, uncertain but wanting to do it quickly—When would the next one come? All of the books I'd read, the questions I'd asked, everything I'd been expecting about being calm and prepared and informed went out the window. I was internally panicking, and I didn't know how to handle it. It was everything I could do to follow his instructions—Gil's hand, falling softly on my shoulder, was perhaps the only reason I was able to do even that… he grounded me, calmed me, reassured me, all in a moment and a single touch.

Once having successfully navigating over and taking the exit, I pulled into a parking lot and parked, releasing the steering wheel as soon as I could as if it were burning me, my fear and surprise tangible in every movement. Gil was already getting out of the car. "Jace, you get in back with Sara, I'll drive…"

And though Jace looked like he wanted that, very, very much… his sensibilities overrode him, and probably only because Gil's behavior had been so deferential up to this point. He shook his head. "No… I know where I'm going. I… It's too hard to give directions, in this traffic. I'll drive and you… you can sit in back… with her."

I knew that it pained him to say this… to offer it… and a glance at Gil's face told me that he realized the sacrifice too. I was about to say I'd probably be fine—my sensibilities were returning to me and I knew that contractions could be hours apart at the beginning—when another one rolled through me. I was more prepared for it—able to perceive, this time around, the way it started slow and built in intensity before subsiding—and though I balled my fists and hissed, managing to keep my eyes open, this seemed to make up their minds for them. Gil had moved around the car, helping me out and guiding me into the back seat with him while Jace slid behind the wheel and adjusted my seat forward—despite being taller than me, my bump had made it so I had to drive much further back than he liked.

Despite their concern and the fairly short amount of time between those two contractions, I didn't have another one all the way to the hospital. Jace wanted to drop us off at the front, but I said no and that I would be fine… so he parked and they walked me in together, Gil's arm around my waist and Jace's over my shoulders. It was strange—not only because they were so easily sharing me, but because at the moment, there was no reason in the world why I could not walk myself.

Once inside, again, Gil allowed Jace to speak, to guide me to sit, to call the shots… he let him feel like he had some control over what was going on, and it seemed to help. They handed Jace paperwork once they glanced at me and realized my labor was by no means imminent, saying they'd page my doctor and get my room ready. Gil leaned over to me, where we were sitting, while Jace spoke to the nurses. "…You okay, my love?"

I smiled softly. "I am… It… it really surprised me, but… Ayla's coming. I… couldn't be happier."

He squeezed my hand. "…I hope the pain wasn't too bad…?"

I chuckled a little. "It was pretty bad… probably more so because it surprised m—" I squeezed his hand tightly as another one gripped me, a low, desperate whine slipping from my lips. His eyes were soft, crumpled in concern, his hand squeezing mine back. I tried to give him a smile a moment later, when it subsided, but it didn't look like I fooled him. He told me to lean back and stretch my feet out, to see if taking some pressure off would help. I didn't want to draw any more attention to myself than I had, but I complied with a frown—he was only giving out instructions because he cared.

A moment later, Jace was at my side, saying it would just be a minute and asking if I were okay. I nodded as best I could, and it didn't look like he believed me either. He suggested I get up and walk—he'd read in baby books that it helped take your mind off the pain and could speed up labor. I sighed in frustration at being issued a second set of instructions. Forget awkward—going into labor with these two men on either side of me was going to be incredibly frustrating.

Still, we were moved to a room within minutes and then there was the awkward moment in which Jace set my bag on the bed and I moved to it, pulling out the nursing gown I'd purchased for the occasion—I didn't want to be stuck in a hospital gown, and this was modest enough that I wouldn't feel awkward in front of Jace, attractive enough that I wouldn't be embarrassed in front of Gil, and it convenient, for when I would have to attempt breastfeeding.

They were reluctant to leave me to change alone, and yet neither man was willing to suggest the other stay while they step out… I glanced between them, briefly, before sighing and pulling the curtain around the bed to change alone—because changing in front of both of them was not an option either. I stripped myself out of my clothes unceremoniously, for once not caring about my usually anal-retentive tendencies to pick up and fold clothing before putting on more. I hesitated, and then slid out of my underwear—it would need to come off soon anyway—and then lifted the gown and let it fall over my frame, adjusting the absorbent pads over each breast and the waist band beneath them, leaving more than enough room for my massive belly.

I climbed into bed and called that they could come around. Jace frowned at the clothes on the floor, picking them up, folding them, and putting them back in my bag before setting it next to his chair. Gil was on my left side, already seated and holding my hand, but his eyes had been on Jace the whole time, a slight frown pressing against his lips as he watched my husband fold my panties and bra. …Undergarments which Gil had had his hands all over this morning—I told you he found the whole pregnancy thing sexy…—and which Jace had not seen nor touched, yet somehow had the right to fold and set aside, because he was the husband and the biological father.

I squeezed his hand gently, offering a soft smile of reassurance—and his eyes lit up, grateful for the personal moment. I broke from him briefly, to place my hand to my breast, where we both knew, though Jace did not, his grandmother's wedding band rested. He gave me a soft smile and took my hand back, laying a soft kiss on it, while Jace looked decidedly away.

I sighed when I realized this, seeing the pain etched in his profile, thinking that by the end of this I would either be a master diplomat or have completely given up trying to be tactful and fair between the two men monopolizing my hands. When another contraction moved through me and I clenched each of their hands, releasing air through my teeth, I had strength of mind only to think that it would probably end up being the latter of the two.