Rhapsody

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caz: Haha… Thanks! Vaughn really is such a great guy… And hey, I'd take a sale over this any day. Saving money definitely comes first in my book. ;)

Sarah9: I would have had this up earlier if everything hadn't decided to go crazy this week. I hope this is soon enough… ;) Thanks!

Valley-girl2: I know I say this every time, but seriously… There are just no words at all… The amount of time and effort you put into that is astounding… I had to scroll through five screens! You amaze me and I love it… Thank you so much, both for that and for your recent review of WE, which was a lovely little treat. :)

Natalie: Thanks for the review! Here's some Jack for you, and don't worry. No evil Irina.

Lightning bug: Sorry for the confusion... Your parenthetical cracked me up. What can I say, I'm easily amused… Thanks!

Brynne:  I was concerned that people might kill me for skipping everything, but I'm glad you liked it. And I wouldn't have wanted to be responsible for the deaths of any of my reviewers. :) Thank you so much!

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Chapter 3: Crescendo

Thus far, it had been a classic pregnancy; they had hit every milestone right on the mark. Morning sickness had come and gone when it should have, Sydney had gained just enough weight to be considered healthy, they had gone to all their checkups, she had done the right exercises, eaten the right foods, taken vitamins… She wasn't supposed to feel the first contractions until the morning of their due date, which was when they would then drive calmly to the hospital, bag packed, everything ready.

They of all people should have realized that not everything goes according to plan, that their world was far from perfect, that there wasn't a world in this universe that was. They should have known that even normal, everyday things never happened exactly the way they were supposed to, that it would have been strange if they had.

So instead, Vaughn flew around the house like a madman, much like any other father-to-be would have. He quickly helped Sydney dress and threw some clothes over his frame, forgetting that the shirt he pulled off the floor was stained with last night's spaghetti sauce, not noticing that his socks didn't match, wouldn't have cared even if he had.

Refusing to let Sydney move to help in the slightest, it was almost surprising that he didn't forbid her to blink her eyes, offer to breathe for her or control her heartbeat. He sat her tenderly on the edge of the bed, scurrying around to pack some things into a bag, knowing just what she would need, right where everything was. He accidentally grabbed some of his own shirts instead of hers, hurriedly yanking them out of the drawer and throwing them in the bag, surprisingly hadn't already realized that she would have liked it better that way, preferred anything that was his to her own.

With a few whispered words and two quick kisses (even as rushed as everything was, he would never forget to show his love for her or their child), they left the apartment hand in hand. A flurry of excitement and nerves tingled in their path, shimmering after them and seeming to tinkle through the chilly, early morning air, alerting the few stars that had managed to sneak their way past the city's glare, rejoicing as they twinkled with a renewed vigor, gladly offering to light the way.

Their drive to the hospital alternated between egregious violations of the speed limit and a near-crawling pace that even the tortoise in the fable wouldn't have had trouble matching. Vaughn wanted to get to the hospital as soon as possible, and would have broken a thousand laws in the process and arrived at its doors in record time… If every glance to the right hadn't brought Sydney into his view, automatically easing his foot off the gas pedal, bringing it to a nearly upright position after practically touching the floor. He would have never willingly put her or their child in harm's way, but couldn't control how heavy his foot had suddenly become, was lucky he remembered how to drive at all…

He helped her step out of the car, gazing up at the hospital that loomed before them, their gateway to a new world, a new life. And from that moment on, he refused to let go of her hand; held it firmly while juggling a clipboard full of forms and a pen, as they wheeled her down the hall and helped her into bed… But she held on just as tightly, probably wouldn't have given his fingers back if he had attempted to extricate them from hers, so it was just as well that he never bothered to try.

Hearts fluttered wildly as the hours progressed, deep breaths taken to calm quivering nerves and ease the pain they were both in: hers without a doubt physical and real, his starting in his chest and radiating outwards, his heart threatening to tear in two as he watched her suffer. He knew she was, even though she tried not to show it, could tell the moment a contraction hit her by the way her hand tightened ever so slightly on his and her breathing would change just enough to not be considered completely normal.

He wanted to help her, attempted to kiss away the pain, whisper just the right words in her ear. Whatever those words were or whether they had actually been spoken, he couldn't tell; knew that something had been murmured, but not what it was. It didn't matter so long as Sydney's eyes stayed locked on his own and something resembling a smile curled the corners of her mouth. Didn't matter as her lips somehow became temptingly close to his own as the minutes progressed, drawing one into the other, flinging them from reality into a fantasy world.

A sound from the doorway wrenched them apart better than a well-placed crowbar. Vaughn's face flushing a deep crimson as he jumped backwards, stammering a hello as the nurse stepped into the room. She chuckled softly at Vaughn's reception, making her way across the room to her spot by the bed.

"French…" she murmured, sighing. "You two definitely win the prize for sweetest couple on this shift. Most of them are tearing each other's eyes out by this stage of the game."

Vaughn grinned softly at Sydney, bringing their entwined fingers up to his lips and kissing her knuckles gently, this exchange, if possible, even sweeter than the one just moments before. It brimmed over with a tender innocence that couldn't have been in any other action, wouldn't have curled its way around any other couple.

The nurse looked up from her proceedings and smiled. "Still on the honeymoon?"

"Actually," Sydney answered, wincing as the nurse continued to examine her, hoping that this time really would be the last. "We're not married…"

"Yet," Vaughn finished for her, unsure why he felt the need to add this; had to bite his tongue to keep a further explanation from springing from his lips, to stop him from pouring out how he would have married her years ago, how crazy their life had been and still was, how they had been waiting until after the baby was born for things to calm down...

"That must be it," the nurse answered with a laugh, hardly believing that such true and pure love could survive outside the bindings of a fairytale; her childhood dreams, like most others, shattered by the dim and grotesque shadow of stark reality that masqueraded as life.

Neither Sydney nor Vaughn answered or even dared to smile in response. Both knew that that wasn't it, that what the two of them had was too good, too seemingly unreal to be easily explained to anyone else, too much for anyone but the two of them to understand.

With a murmured promise of Only a few more hours, the nurse scurried from the room, leaving the them alone with the ticking clock. Seconds to minutes to hours… the sudden bursts of pain drawing closer and closer in constant warning. The collar of Vaughn's t-shirt starting to dampen as the moment drew nearer, as the combination of exhaustion, exhilaration and apprehension continued to boil to a nearly lethal level, curling its fingers around his neck and massaging tension into his muscles instead of relaxing it away.

"Vaughn?" Sydney asked suddenly, eyes widening with what he mistook as pain, immediately ramming his heart against his chest with the thought that something might be wrong. Her next words dispelled his fears, but only momentarily, new ones shuffling into the mix to take their place. "Will you call my Dad? He doesn't need to come, but… I just think he should know…"

The soft, whispering way those words were spoken was almost enough to make him forget his near-panicked, not-entirely-unfounded fear of Jack Bristow. It was still relatively early in the morning, after all, and although the two men had been on better terms of late, there would always be something about that man that scared the hell out of him, although he wouldn't admit it for the world.

"Sure, Syd." His words were soft, his radiant smile adding the Anything for you. Always. that he couldn't find the breath to speak.

Reaching to dig his cell phone out of his pocket, he quickly discovered that it was missing, overlooked in the early morning scramble and more likely than not still sitting on the bedside table sandwiched in between Sydney's phone and an alarm clock that had probably been going off for quite some time.

He grinned sheepishly at her, kissing her hand softly before untangling her fingers from his own, the loss of contact breathing ice over his skin, a tingling he knew she felt too as she curled her hand into a fist and brought her other arm over it. "I have to…" He paused as she nodded, the rest of the words unnecessary. "Will you be…?"

"Mmm," she hummed, nodding again and fruitlessly attempting to get more comfortable, knowing that it wouldn't be possible, that it would only happen when his fingers were once again laced with her own. Her eyes pleaded with him to hurry. She would never actually beg, wouldn't tell him that she didn't want to be long without him.

But he already knew, and placing a chaste kiss against her lips and wrestling the impulse to let his own linger there, he smoothed her hair behind her ear before hurrying from the room. "I'll be right back."

Quickly finding a payphone and grimacing when his fingers dove into his pockets and resurfaced without any change, Vaughn mentally kicked himself as he dialed the Collect number and waited for the phone to ring. His mind racing with the events of the past few months, one whirring so quickly past the other that trying to focus on a select few was nearly enough to make him sick. One finally catching on a nerve as the phone rang, the suddenness of it making Vaughn stumble through his own name when the automated voice asked for it, and he reeled with the abrupt memory: the one conversation he was glad never to have to have again…

"… and we're very glad to have the two of you back on active duty."

Vaughn had continued to fiddle with his pen as discussion had floated around him. A few words had drifted into his ears and brushed against the surface of understanding, but as none of them had been his name for quite some time, there had been nothing that could have shaken him from his thoughts. He hadn't even been sure what this particular mission had entailed, but had been desperately searching for a way to get Sydney out of it… and all those that were sure to have followed…

"Couldn't Weiss go instead?"

All glances had shot in Vaughn's direction. Jack's open mouth informing him a moment too late that the senior agent had been in the middle of a statement. Sydney's eyes had met his own almost too briefly for him to read her expression, immediately flitting back down to where her left hand had rested on the edge of the table; her engagement ring had been taken off that morning, placed reluctantly on the nightstand until they were ready to share their happiness with the world… and the CIA.

Vaughn had swallowed, knowing that even after only wearing it for a few short days, she had felt naked without it, had known that it was killing her inside only because it was destroying him as well, pounding steadily on his already-crumbling foundation. But he had understood, too, that the absence of the ring hadn't been the only thing bothering her, could have sworn that in that split second she had allowed her eyes to meet with his own that he had seen gratefulness, fear, relief…

Devlin had cleared his throat, sighing at Vaughn's sudden outburst. "If you'd prefer, Agent Weiss can take your place in the van and you can stay behind to…"

"For Sydney."

A silence so heavy he had felt it bearing down on his shoulders, had almost let the force of it push him down in his chair, carry him into the darkness under the table and through the floor. The electric lights had hummed overhead, making the unnatural quiet even more excruciating, increasing in pitch until it hurt his ears, seeming to charge the air with tiny particles of electricity and tension, a hazardous mixture, worse than gasoline to a flame.

"For Sydney?" Devlin had finally asked, to bring an end to the silence if nothing else. Every single person in that room had heard Vaughn speak; they had all known who and what he had meant.

"Agent Bristow…" Vaughn had tried, attempting to maintain some semblance of professionalism, knowing that the director knew Sydney's first name as well as he did and that that had not been the issue…

"Hang on a second," Weiss had interrupted, waving a hand. "Maybe I didn't hear right, but didn't part of the mission include running around in that?" he had asked, gesturing toward a skimpy red dress that Vaughn had assumed the tech guys had managed to rig up with some kind of special equipment. "Unless you expect me to lose 200 pounds and grow breasts by Wednes…"

Jack's bordering on life-threatening glower had stopped him mid-sentence, a grumbled apology bringing it to a hurried conclusion. Devlin had begun to explain exactly why it was necessary for Sydney to go on this mission, and (as skilled as he was) how Weiss would not have done for a replacement.

But Vaughn hadn't heard any of it. A thousand scenarios tumbling head over heels through his mind, each worse than the next, none involving him ever getting to hold his wife and child in his arms. He had never been able to sleep well while Sydney was away on one of her missions, ever since that very first one the CIA had sent her on. And over the months, it had steadily worsened to the point of insomnia, although he wouldn't have confessed that to himself or anyone else.

But that had been before he had really gotten to know her, been allowed to or even considered the possibility of loving her, and now…

He nearly had a heart attack every time he watched her walk away from one of their covert meetings, hoping against hope that he would soon see her coming back towards him; almost died whenever he watched her spring out of the back of the van, waiting with baited breath for her to yank the doors back open again...

He would have surely, without a shadow of a doubt, internally combusted, asphyxiated, bled and choked to a most painful death if he had to send his fiancée and their child…

"She… we… we're pregnant."

Bubbling forth from his lips before he had had the chance to stir it back. He should have had more control, been better trained… That had been the second time in a matter of days that unbidden words had sprung to his lips. The first time had worked out for the better, but this… They hadn't had a chance to talk about it yet, to discuss when they would…

Weiss' choking had flung him back to reality, hurtling him staggeringly closer to it with each deep cough and sputtering intake of breath, as if someone kept hitting the breaks, had been trying to keep him from returning.

Vaughn's hand had found Sydney's fingers and his eyes had locked her hers, a shrieked, unspoken Sorry passing between them before he had even thought to look anywhere else, to see if his friend was all right or actually in any real danger of imminent death.

A hastily placed coffee cup had sat on the table in front of Weiss, coffee dribbling down his chin as the coughing fit began to subside. Jack's tie and suit front had been unmistakably damp, a fine spray of droplets glistening on his face. Whether the liquid had actually helped to cool his suddenly scarlet features, however, was still an issue up for debate.

Weiss had eventually petered off to silence. Devlin hadn't said a word, relinquishing authority in this instance to those the issue had truly concerned. Jack had taken one look down the front of his suit, apparently deciding that it would need to be cleaned anyway and angrily wiping his sleeve across his face.

He had leaned forward, as if by being closer to the two of them, he could have frightened what he would have deemed a more correct answer out of them. "You're what?"

Vaughn had opened his mouth to answer, but the increasing pressure of Sydney's hand on his own had stopped him. "Dad," she had begun, her voice soft and slow, "Vaughn and I are…"

"I heard what he said, Sydney," Jack had interrupted vehemently, speaking as if to a child, frustration and surprise stealing his words and transforming them into meaningless questions. "Why?... How?"

This had been followed by a stony silence. One that Weiss had been more than happy to fill now that his trachea was filled with air and not burning liquid. "I don't think much has changed in 30 years in that respect, sir. I'm assuming the same way you and your wife…"

Another death glare that surely would have killed anyone unlucky enough to find themselves in its path. But Weiss had somehow been immune to it; silent, but still breathing, the waves of heat and ire emanating from Jack's eyes merely bouncing off instead of burning to a crisp.

"It's just not like you to be so irresponsible, Sydney."

Sydney had been poised and ready to respond with anger to whatever her father had said; could match fire with fire, and win among the best of them. But this almost fatherly disappointment had caught her off guard, had not been something she was used to, and in Vaughn's eyes, had been a low blow on Jack's part.

Sydney had lowered her eyes, color burning to her cheeks, ignited by embarrassment and sparking pink into his own. No one, not even her own father, had the right to speak to Sydney that way, to make her feel inferior or shameful for something so…

"With all due respect, Jack…" Vaughn had been surprised that he had even been able to find five such words in his vocabulary, had spoken them with such restraint and civility.

But Jack had put a hand in the air to stop him, turning his attention to Weiss and Devlin. "Would you excuse us?"

Devlin had nodded and risen from his chair, muttering that Sydney should see him in his office when she had a moment and that they would continue the briefing after lunch when a new course of action could be drawn up.

Weiss had been following the director towards the door but stopped behind Sydney and Vaughn's chairs, putting a hand on each of his friends' shoulders. To this day Vaughn wasn't certain of the motive behind his words, probably would never figure it out as long as he lived. But whether his friend had had a death wish for himself, Vaughn, or both of them together…

"Come on, Mr. Bristow. You can't really blame them for wanting to reproduce these genes. I mean, look at them." He had turned to go before anyone could respond, but looking over his shoulder had added, "Mike, if I were you, I'd pray that the kid has Syd's nose."

Vaughn had been sure that this would be it, that he and Sydney would have to flee the country, constantly moving about to remain one step ahead of the wrath that was Jack Bristow. He had been about to rise from his seat, to plead with Sydney to follow and run as fast as their legs could carry them, when Jack had shocked every thought out of him with the use of his first name.

"Michael." His voice had been dangerously serious, seemed to have been digging Vaughn's grave with every breath and uttered syllable. "Do you love my daughter?"

Vaughn hadn't been able to suppress a slight sigh of relief. If that had been the sole question on any test, he would have passed with flying colors… more than water, more than air, more than money, more than himself, more than life, more than anyone or anything…

"Yes."

"Good." Jack had stood and made his way over to their side of the table.

Vaughn had scrambled to his feet, helping Sydney up as well, the uncertainty tripping through her eyes had been enough to tell him that everything probably wasn't quite over. She had been right.

Jack's voice had been low and harsh when he spoke again, the combination noxious, nearly enough in itself to inflict more damage than a machine gun fired at close range. "Because if you ever do anything to hurt her in any way, shape, or form, I will kill you… Have I made myself clear?"

Vaughn had only been able to nod, somehow managing to put his own hand into Jack's when he had reached out to shake it. He hadn't doubted the older man's words in the slightest, but they still shouldn't have frightened him; Vaughn had no intention of ever causing Sydney any pain, would have killed himself the second he did.

Giving his daughter a quick and surprising hug, Jack had nodded towards her left hand, offering a small, soft smile. "You should put your engagement ring back on," he had stated matter-of-factly, heartfelt emotion shining through his stony façade for a few short moments before once again smothering itself. "It's obvious that you miss it already."

Ignoring her look of surprise and not bothering to explain that he had, like Vaughn, seen the way she had glanced at her bare finger and subconsciously fiddled with the small area of skin that should have been safely covered by cool metal and passionate love, Jack had spoken once more before at last quitting the room.

"Congratulations. On both accounts."

They had watched him leave, neither daring to move, blink, or breathe in those few moments following Jack's departure, lest the slightest motion would have shaken them into reality and they would have woken to find it had all been a dream. Finally, Vaughn had pulled Sydney close and she had molded herself into his arms, her head laying against his chest and sighing with satisfaction, a perfect fit every time…

Even now, all those months later, that memory still managed to fill Vaughn with a mixture of emotions. So vivid that the uncertainty, disbelief, anger, amazement, and fear were all in attendance, entering at their proper places, following the same cues they had that day, inciting the same responses from their audience of one…

But before he had the time to contemplate it any further, to let the show of emotions continue on to what had happened next, before hope and love and passion could make their long-awaited and dazzling entrance, he became suddenly aware of a voice booming in his ear.

"Vaughn. Is there a reason you're calling me Collect at 7:47 on a Tuesday morning?"

It was a valid question. Jack had, after all, been trying to get Vaughn's attention for quite some time now, but its clipped and harsh delivery startled Vaughn to momentary silence, the vividness of the voice in his recollection so real that anything resembling a coherent and timely response skittered away in a flurry of heartbeats and prickling skin.

"We're… we're at the hospital."

"Is Sydney all right?" The question was quick, echoing in Vaughn's ear before he even had time to finish his own statement. Concern was evident in the hurried tone, but before he had the time to wonder why he had even been anxious about making this call…

Sydney… Sydney was all alone. Alone with the pain, the anxiety, the bristling fear and doubt that kept stealing upon them, that they could will away when together, but… He needed to get back to her, had taken far too long already, and…

"Jack. It's time."

"What?"

Had he thought about it, it would have been funny. The exchange so closely mirroring that which had taken place with Sydney earlier, his own role switched this time as he assumed the strength that she had had, became the one that had to impart the news…

"The baby…" Vaughn trailed off, running a nervous hand through his hair. A handful of heartbeats found their way between his statement and Jack's response.

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

Not quite the reply he had been expecting. He had been waiting for a calm and collected All right, let me know how things turn out and that would have been the end of it. Even Sydney had…

"No, Jack, Sydney said…"

A click and the dial tone interrupted him. He hung up the phone with a sigh and hurried back to Sydney's side, taking her hand before uttering so much as one syllable. Her eyes had been closed when he entered and she didn't open them, didn't ask what her father had said or answer his worried Are you okay? with anything more than a swift nod.

His forehead wrinkles dug impossibly deeper, threatening to burst his skin and split his skull. Vaughn had been prepared for the worst. He had heard the horror stories; Weiss had made sure of that: the swears of pain and anger, the husbands and boyfriends who had their hands broken…

Weiss had even felt the need to share with him that one time on A Baby Story, the husband had had to leave the delivery room and go down to the ER for an arm x-ray and seven stitches to a forehead laceration sustained by an expertly thrown coffee cup. Weiss said that they might have shown a happy ending on the show, but that was just a publicity stunt, the magic of television; he was sure that that relationship had ended with bitter tears, lots of screaming and divorce… "But hey, technically you and Syd aren't married yet, so… nothing to worry about, right?" A wink and a sorely place elbow had completed this statement, but Vaughn hadn't laughed. He had even been too anxious to ask how Eric's television had ended up on TLC, much less remained there during the course of a show like A Baby Story...

He had been expecting Sydney to scream, to yell, to grind the bones of his fingers to powder, and curse him for ever putting her in this situation, swear that after this was through, she never wanted to lay eyes on him again…

But none of that had happened. Vaughn had been glad for it at first, but doubt was starting to creep up on him. He could hear it rustling the bleak, sterile curtains, its harsh whispers lurking in the voices of passersby, and its high-pitched laughter eclipsed by the squeaking wheels of passing carts.

They had both been fine after the initial anxiety had been allayed with the doctor's reassurances that their baby was healthy, and three weeks wasn't too soon. They had been told that the hospital had thousands of success stories of children born even earlier, had the best facility in the area for premature births, and that they should instead focus their worries on saving for their child's not-so-distant college tuition.

Sydney had seemed fine with this information at first, had been almost giddy with sudden intense excitement. But the hours were wearing on them, and it hadn't taken long for the elation to flake away. Now the contractions were worsening, coming so much closer together and it wouldn't be long until…

Vaughn could hear shrieks and groans echoing through the halls, women in neighboring rooms going through the same stages of labor as Sydney was. It would have sounded like a funked-up old movie's version of an insane asylum… if it weren't for the cries of newborns and joy that would reach his ears periodically. Often enough to give him hope that all the pain would end for her soon, that people weren't kidding when they said it all became worth it the second you took your child into your arms.

Vaughn looked up, trying to find Sydney's eyes, to tell her once again that it wouldn't be long now, that he loved her more than he would ever be able to put words to… But he found her eyes still closed tightly, a single tear somehow squeezing through the lashes and trickling down her cheek, jack-hammering straight into his heart with every hair it progressed, stealing his breath and tauntingly waving it just out of his reach.

"Syd, baby…" he whispered, near tears himself as he kissed hers away, concentrated on not letting his voice crack with the torment of sudden understanding.

She had been through so much pain in her lifetime, so much torture and anguish. That in itself should have been the worst of it… but it wasn't. She had become used to it over the years, grown accustomed to remaining stoic, stifling her cries and tears, not letting the enemy know that it hurt, that her defenses were crumbling, that she really could feel. And even though here there was no one to hide from, no reason to…

"Syd…" he murmured, bringing his free hand up to brush against her cheek, imploring without words for her to open her eyes. When she did, he continued, staring straight into her depths, amazed at the strength he still found there, despite everything she had gone through and was even now. "It's okay to… to cry… to feel…"

His voice ran out on him there, tittering off into the distance, thinking it had played a fine trick with its early departure. But Sydney didn't need a complete thought or sentence for reassurance, to know what he had meant. She answered by tightening her grip on his hand, leaning forward and pulling his lips to hers, sending him into a tailspin unlike any other, swirling him in a crazy spiral through space and time, filled with quiet French whispers and reassuring caresses, wrinkling foreheads and looks of concern, smiles and tears, pain and fears…

He didn't know how time had passed so quickly after that, how it had suddenly become mid-morning and he found himself in a gown and cap, standing by the head of a bed in the delivery room. Sydney's fingers were still laced with his own, had been for every minute that made up each of the long hours they had been waiting, separated only for those few moments he had left her side to use the phone.

And he was glad that this time, he could feel the pain in his fingers, that she had finally realized she could transfer that little bit onto him, that he wanted to help her any way he could, even if that meant breaking every bone in his hand…

Everything moving so quickly now, and for a moment he nearly panicked, wasn't sure if he was prepared, if he was ready to be a father, to have such an influence over one tiny person's life. Maybe Sydney had made the wrong choice in picking him; maybe somebody had gotten their stars and wires crossed, wrongly connecting the two as soul mates; maybe he should have let her be with someone else, someone who…

But those fears were unfounded, and it was too late to turn back as her grip on his hand tightened impossibly, a spark of intense pain flaring and tapering off into numbness. Sounds scampering around the room, reaching his ears in an order that didn't quite make sense… Clicks and beeps and the sigh of rustling cloth, groans and murmured numbers, reassurances that came from someone other than himself because his voice was caught in his throat, lost in the fray; the slap of hands against objects, the two of them breathing in unison and That's it, Sydney. One more push…

A sudden, sharp wailing quickly became the sweetest song he had ever heard. Rising over the din, shushing everything else with its mere presence; smiles sparking, kindled by slight wonder, kept aflame by an intense awe.

Vaughn caught half a glimpse of dark, damp hair, a tangle of glistening, wiggling limbs. The rest of the image swimming before his eyes, blurred by tears that wouldn't fall. His hand automatically brought Sydney's fingertips to his lips as her hold on him loosened, knowing even without a direct message from his brain not to let go. His eyes locked on the new life before him, the tiny, beautiful, perfect child that he and Sydney had created together.

"Congratulations, Mom and Dad…"