Title: Daddy's Little Girl

Rating: PG

Pairing: Bobby/OMC

Archive: At my site, The Band Gazebo ()

Summary: Bobby comes home from his first day back at work.

Author's Notes: For the LiveJournal CSReports "Write about a character not usually written about" challenge

***

Looking down at the baby in his arms, Bobby didn't care what Mark thought. "I'm telling you, she's grown."

"In the eight hours you were at the crime lab?"

"Eight hours and forty-five minutes," Bobby countered, and if his partner noticed that he'd cut fifteen minutes off his travelling time that day, then he was wise enough not to say anything. "And every minute felt like a lifetime."

"You're losing it." Mark rolled his eyes, but laughter lurked in his voice. "You re-acquaint yourself with our daughter," he continued, standing up from the couch. "I'll make coffee."

"Hey." Bobby reached out with one hand, catching Mark's wrist. Without breaking their gaze, he raised his wrist to his lips, placing a kiss there. "It wasn't just Lucy I missed."

Mark grinned, leaning over to press a kiss to Bobby's lips, one that started out chaste and stayed that way, in deference to the child in Bobby's arms. It was, however, just enough to whet Bobby's appetite, and from the glint in Mark's eyes when he pulled away, his as well.

But first, coffee had to be made, and Bobby had to re-acquaint himself with his daughter, who, no matter what Mark said, had grown while he was on his first night shift back. He'd been surprised at how much he'd missed her, how quickly he'd grown used to the cosy family domesticity that they'd been living in since they'd adopted Lucy a month ago; something he enjoyed recapturing it when he and Mark curled up together on the couch with coffee and their now-slumbering daughter.

He told them about the shift, about the welcome back he'd received, how surprised he'd been that people seemed to miss him. He was even more surprised when Sara, probably the least maternal person he knew, came to him with a present, a little dress that was at least seven kinds of adorable. Greg's present had been predictably loud, something with flashing lights and noises that Bobby was sure would have him and Mark losing the batteries in no time, whereas Catherine's had been a music box with Lucy's name and birthdate on it.

But nothing had tickled him as much as Nick, who had asked to see a photograph. Bobby said that he'd bring one in, leading Nick to roll his eyes. "What's wrong with the one in your wallet?" Red-faced, because he hadn't wanted to be one of those new parents, Bobby handed it over, and Nick had grinned. "She's gonna be a heartbreaker," he proclaimed. Then, "Man, you're going to be every boyfriend's nightmare." Off Bobby's questioning look, he'd continued, "Come on… a dad who knows guns… who also knows how to clean up a crime scene…"

Bobby narrowed his eyes. "Not sure I see the bad in that," he'd replied, but his lips had been twitching and Nick had laughed.

Now, Bobby looks at the little girl in his arms, and he's not hiding his smile. "No bad in that at all."