Disclaimer: I don't own them.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I know this chapter is less than eventful, but it's a necessary transition between the birth and the next part of the story... :) Enjoy!

Chapter Sixty:

It was unbelievably difficult to keep deferring to the man. Especially because Sara was doing so as well—I could handle me calling him the 'dad' and offering to let him do things first, but I didn't want Sara trying to accommodate him as well. I wanted her to look like she didn't want him involved at all.

She didn't look like she did want him there, but she didn't seem opposed either.

I mean, okay, I know it's an ego thing and I should just get over it, but it's a hard place to be in, in love with a woman who is giving birth to another's man child.

When Sara finally got the epidural and slept for a while, there was… a bit of a conversation. We had exhausted Ayla-related topics, and the only thing left was the unfinished business between us… the animosity. He cleared his throat.

"I know you two are still speaking." He said, in a tone that implied he was baiting me. I gave him my best enigmatic expression—Sara was still under the impression that he didn't know, which meant that she hadn't told him. Either he'd figured us out, or he was bluffing… either way, I wasn't going to tell him more than he already knew.

"We're not allowed to have any contact anymore." I said, upset that my voice betrayed my bitterness.

He scoffed. "I'm not an idiot, Gil. …The thing you have to realize is that the psyche of a woman changes, once she gives birth… the whole world becomes about supporting and protecting the baby. That's why women are attracted to older men who are well established… they can best take care of offspring. It's biological."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, I'm older than you, and can certainly support her, so I'm not really worried about it."

He smiled, though it was false. "You're right—you are older. But for you, that's both an upside and a downside… you're in your forties, I'm in my thirties… Sara turns thirty this year. We're both older, and can support her, but which of us is young and attractive and virile?"

I wasn't about to be goaded, despite my insecurities. "And which of us was between her legs last night?"

Pain streaked across his gaze, and though I felt like I ought to feel guilty, I didn't. I would be deferential because I wanted this to be a calm and low stress situation for Sara, but I wasn't going to let him imply that Sara wanted him. I had seen them interact in front of me, and she didn't treat him the way she used to… I knew, without asking either of them, that she had been faithful to me since we'd parted.

"But I am Ayla's father… Once she has her… her instinct is going to be to keep the family together. Especially since you work such a high risk job… I'm less of a risk."

"She loves me."

"Yeah, she told me that too."

I looked away from him, waiting for Sara to wake and the pretense that we were getting along to continue. She seemed to be a little bit nicer when she yelled at me, as opposed to when she yelled at Jace—and before I knew it, Ayla was crowning. Sara wouldn't let either of us see it—I understood why shouldn't would keep Jace away, but I wanted to see it so badly… see the moment that the baby Sara had created within herself came into the world to be her own little person. I stayed with Sara and held her hand while Jace cut the cord and relished in the kiss she gave me while Jace held Ayla.

When I finally got a chance to hold the small infant, Jace reluctantly passing me her small form over the top of Sara, I took the time to be certain that Sara was not about to bestow a kiss on Jace and then looked into the little girl's bright blue eyes, thinking that she already looked like Sara… the shape of her face, her cheekbones… the slight crease in her nose and the curls in her dark locks. I know they say babies that young can't smile yet, but I swear her lips twitched up a little, when she looked at me.

"Hi Ayla… I know you've already your mommy and… daddy…" I stumbled over the word and swallowed, focusing on the sweet button of her nose and the red in her cheeks to keep me going. "But I wanted to make sure you knew me, because I won't be around as much. …I'm Gil, but… you can call me daddy too, if you like. …'Cause I love your mommy so much, little Ayla, and I love you so much too and… and I'm gonna do my best to be around as often as I can." I laid a trembling kiss to her forehead. "…Someday, you'll understand, honey. Just… do me a favor and don't forget me, okay? …Or how much I love you, sweetheart."

We were both kicked out for a while when a woman came in to help Sara start to breastfeed, and headed down to the cafeteria, ending up eating at the same table simply out of habit or social convention or I don't know what, despite the fact that we hated each other. When we came back up, Ayla was sucking happily away, Sara's eyes shining in disbelief. I grinned, hurrying in and taking my normal seat—"Look at you, mommy… What's it feel like?"

She laughed a little, blinking back the tears. "Weird. …But good. It's a good weird." She leaned over and kissed me softly. "…Thank you for being here, Gil." My ego flared up—I wanted to turn and yell 'Ha!' in Jace's face, but I refrained, instead turning and stroking Ayla's head where we was curled up against Sara's partially exposed breast, knowing that he would be allowed to do no such thing and letting that satisfy me.

There was something strangely primal that flared in me, watching Sara mothering, an infant to her breast, her face lined and weary but shining with happiness. Something had to be done about this arrangement soon—I couldn't go back to not seeing her long term. Especially since her abstinence was going to prevent another shared birthing experience from bringing me back to Boston. …If I couldn't beat Jace at his own game—the PI had continually reported nothing, so I'd given up—I would have to find another way.

The rest of the trip seemed like a blur—Sara was stuck in the hospital that night and the entire next day. When Jace would leave to eat, I would have time with her and Ayla, and when I left to eat, I was certain he jumped at the chance—my only consolation was that when he returned, she'd frown and stop speaking, not wanting to be overheard, and when I returned, she turn away from him, even if he was speaking, to meet my eyes, her face lit up.

She slept a lot, and she was almost always holding Ayla when she was awake, though she often passed her to me, sensing that Jace monopolized the infant while Sara slept in an effort to keep me from her. Despite his efforts, she fell asleep in my arms several times that day, and did no such thing for Jace. And with Sara, it seemed like she was always hungry—Ayla would eat and eat, and finally pass out, still attached to her breast, one tiny fit curled up against Sara's chest.

I realized with some surprise that the ring was exposed when she was nursing—it hadn't occurred to me, at first, and apparently hadn't to Sara either. I wondered if Jace had noticed, and mentioned it to Sara the next time Jace was out of the room. She moved the necklace so that it fell down her back, hoping that would help… hoping he hadn't seen it. She was worried she would lose it or that he would do something to it, and offered to give it back, but I refused. I would prefer she have it and lose it than not have it at all.

And that night, I had to kiss her and my Ayla goodbye and catch a cab to the airport to make my flight home, playing by Jace's goddamned rules and missing out on all the moments… I threw myself into work when I got home, needing the distraction, and on my down time, I tried to figure out how to get Sara and Ayla out of this situation and into my life, for real. I couldn't do this long distance anymore, especially not with Jace's words ringing in my ears.

She looked just like Sara.

She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing I'd ever laid eyes on.

And despite Gil backing off and letting me do the things I had every right to, he was still constantly there, murmuring words of love or touching Ayla or touching Sara.

The way Sara looked at Ayla… the way she looked at me, when Gil was out of the room and we were looking at the tiny person we had made together… I knew. I knew that if he were out of the picture, Sara would turn back to me—her husband, a pillar of stability, who had stood by her even when she was ready to throw the marriage away on someone so unworthy of her. She would be grateful that she had a family to turn to and rely on. I just needed him to stop kicking up mud to make the water murky—when he wasn't around, everything was clear, and she knew that she needed and wanted me.

I had been uncertain, before, how to make them stop talking… and I was reluctant to go too far, because Sara had a temper… if she discovered what I was doing, despite the fact that she'd been breaking rules, she would still never forgive me. So I had to be tactful. But now… we were talking, getting along, sharing the responsibilities of Ayla, and she was looking at me with awe in her eyes. I couldn't wait for him to screw up or get tired of the distance—and he eventually would—because the time was now. I would have to find a way to strike while the iron was hot, so to speak… She was emotional and vulnerable, and if he hurt her now as opposed to when he would eventually hurt her of his own accord later, she would be more likely to turn back to me. Especially because Ayla deserved a real family—Sara knew it as well as I did, but she was caught up in a man she'd never had a real relationship with.

I mean, time actually spent in his presence was… what? Less than three weeks.

No, the breakdown of their relationship was eventual… but my opportunity for restoring mine was present and pressing. I wasn't sure how, but I would do everything I could to influence her away from him, while our family might still be salvaged. Ayla deserved that… More than either of us, she deserved the happiness only a complete, whole family could bring.

I rocked her to sleep after he had gone and Sara had drifted off, taking in how very much she looked like Sara… telling her about our home and the nursery and the life I was going to give her, about meeting Grandma and Grandpa and her aunts and cousins…and the next day, I was the picture-perfect husband. I was affectionate and doting, understanding and sweet… I helped her with bags and with Ayla, I helped her walk from door to car and car to door and guided her to bed. I brought her Ayla when she asked and stayed close, tending to all of her needs.

And she was grateful… she really was. I could see it in her eyes. …But it wasn't enough. She needed something to take him out of her mind, so she could truly see and appreciate what was in front of her. …And I needed to figure out a way to accomplish that.