A/N: I call this chapter my "baby montage." The events in it happen at separate times over the course of the week following Galina's birth.
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A squall rent the air and Sara groaned loudly. Rolling over, she clumsily smacked Grissom across the chest with a hand that wanted to go back to sleep. "You do it. I'm asleep."
Grissom, somehow managing to be more awake than his bedmate for once in their lives, turned on his side to face her. Offering her a smug smile, he pushed her hair back so he could see her eyes. "Sure, Sara, if you'll just detach one of your breasts so I can feed her."
Oh, she'd forgotten about that part. "Damn. I hate you sometimes." Shoving the covers aside rudely in the hopes that she'd make Grissom cold, she slid reluctantly off the bed and walked to the crib. It made her feel decidedly un-virtuous to hate getting up in the middle of the day to feed Galina; weren't mothers supposed to put the baby's needs above their own? Ugh . . .
"Ok sweetie, eat fast and we'll both be happy," she suggested to the baby, settling into what she had began to think of as The Nursing Chair. She leaned her head back against the chair and sighed, wishing fervently that this were the fathers' job instead of the mothers'.
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"I am SO not going to be the only diaper-changer in this household, Grissom! No way in hell, so get your ass over to that changing table and act like a father." Sara pointed a stern finger toward the table in question, giving Grissom a fulminating look. "Go on. You have an IQ of 158; I'm sure you can figure it out."
Grissom looked down at the rather smelly child in his arms, who seemed to be staring back up at him accusingly. "Ok, ok, I'm going. I didn't say I wouldn't change her; I just said that you do it better than I do."
"Practice makes perfect. Do it."
With a sigh, Grissom did his best to hold down his wiggling daughter with one hand while the other fumbled to grab and unfold a diaper. "Sara," he whined, "don't they make machines to do this yet?"
With a snort, Sara shook her head. "Not yet, Gris. Besides, I'm having fun watching this. Keep going."
It took him nearly two minutes longer than it usually took Sara, who had five days' more experience than he did, and the baby came out looking slightly lopsided as one side of the diaper drooped, but it was there and it was attached securely to the butt in need of it. Grissom had to pat himself on the back, at least until he caught Sara's laughing look. "What?"
"Nothing, nothing. I was just thinking that life would be very fair if, since I'm the one who has to get up every night to feed her, you were the one who got assigned diaper duty permanently."
"No. Please, no. I'll grow boobs. Not the diapers!" he begged in mock-horror.
"Hmm, no," Sara said in a thoughtful tone, "I think this is just about right. I think we're going to do that."
Grissom didn't think she was completely serious . . . but he couldn't be sure.
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"Saraaaaa!" Greg squealed, garnering the attention of everyone within a fifty-foot radius of the break room. "She puked on me!" He held a gurgling Galina out as far away from his body as the cradling position of his arms let him, apparently so any more vomit the baby expelled wouldn't mar his lab coat.
Grissom took her out of Greg's arms and smirked. "Welcome to the club, Sanders. Everyone who's anyone has worn some of Galya's spit-up." He kissed his daughter's forehead and added, "I think she does it on purpose as a sort of initiation. It means she likes you."
Sara giggled. "And if you believe that, I've got a bridge to sell you."
"Oh," said Nick pensively, "I don't know about that, Sara. Check it out – the nightshift group and Susan are, like, the only people besides her parents who she'll let hold her without screaming. I think that means she likes us." To demonstrate, he raised his arms and took the baby as Grissom reluctantly passed her to him. "See, she loves me, she's not cryi . . ." He was cut off as Galina shrieked and burst into tears.
Sara gave him a look of hearty disapproval and took the baby back, calming her. "It's ok sweetie, Uncle Nick's just an idiot." When the tears and screams had quieted, she looked up at everyone. "She probably isn't too pleased about being handed around like, uh . . . like something that gets handed around a lot. Would you be? Yeah, didn't think so," she finished without waiting for an answer. "Brownie points deducted from your campaign for godfather, Nick."
Catherine grinned and made a crash-and-burn noise. "Poor Nicky, you're gonna lose out to Greg or Warrick at the rate you're going."
"Yeah!" Greg crowed, shoving a fist into the air. "So there, Stokes!"
"Or maybe," Grissom said repressively, "she'll end up with two godmothers and no godfather at all if you two don't behave. Out, go," he ordered, starting to herd the team toward the door. "Back to work, show-and-tell is hereby over for the night." When everyone else was gone, he leaned over the baby's head and gave Sara a light kiss. "Go on home and feed her, I'll see you in a few hours."
Sara pouted, but began gathering up the various baby necessities that had been strewn around the room. "Two weeks, Gil. Two weeks until I'm back here and I stop taking orders from you."
He shook his head, laughing. "You do what you want anyway, Sidle, so why bother even listening to my orders? But if it makes you feel better, it's technically thirteen days, not two weeks, until you're back to work and the baby takes up residence in my office surrounded by all the crazies this place houses."
"You know you'd much rather have her here during work than at daycare or something, Gris. Be thankful that we've got this arranged so well."
Ducking his head, he sighed. "You're right as usual on that one. But I suppose I get diaper duty at work too?"
"We can share it here. Or, even better, we can delegate it to the others. And speaking of delegating . . . who are we going to ask to be godparents?"
"We'll see, Sara. How about we discuss it this morning when I get home, and make the decision?"
"Fair enough." She leaned over to kiss his cheek and smiled. "See you later, Gris." And, gathering up diaper bag, clothing, and baby, she was gone from the room.
