A/N:  My goodness, such lovely reviews and it isn't even my birthday (well, okay, technically it was my birthday 15 days ago).  Anyzit, keep reviewing, because my writing's running on empty right now, and I could use the help.  My great thanks to you all.  –your humble author.

My Blessed Mistake:  Blossoming Friendship

            As it turned out, tomorrow brought Greg.  He stood at her door with a travel mug and grocery bag, waiting patiently.

            Inside, Sara fought off a strong wave of nausea and wondered how she could make it from her bed to the door.  Maybe the person would just go away.  Or—wait!  Maybe it was Dr. Myers come to tell her that the test results were wrong and she, in fact, had the plague.  Well, the prospect good new can rouse anyone from bed.

            "Oh."  Her face fell.  "It's you."

            "That's a lovely greeting.  At least I didn't get your ice-stare."

            "Next time, don't wake me up and we won't have a problem."  She motioned for him to enter, then sat on the couch.  "If you'll excuse me, I have to psych myself into throwing up."

            He knelt beside her and offered the mug.

            "What's that?"

            "Ginger tea; it'll help settle your stomach.  And," he added, reaching into the grocery bag, "soda crackers.  Sip and nibble."

            Greg turned on the TV and relaxed while Sara opted to give his homeopathy a try.  Not particularly appetizing, but it was better than leaning over the toilet.

            "What are we watching?" she asked after a few minutes.

            "Korean soap opera."

            "You speak Korean?"

            "Not a word, but it's still better than American ones.  I think—and I could be wrong—that her father is drying, but that guy with the long him could save him if he wanted to.  Something about a kidney transplant.  Maybe."

            "That's a guy?"

            "I think so."

            They watched together in silence; Sara drank her tea and Greg occasionally translated things into English.  Only, he didn't know what they were saying, so he made it up.  After about fifteen minutes, Sara turned to him, all smiles.

            "I feel better.  How did you do that?"

            "A lady never tells."

            She fixed him with a glare.  "This lady better tell because if you put anything in that tea which could hurt the baby…"

            "Calm down!  Geez, I would never give you anything hurtful; ginger is a natural anti-emetic and soda crackers give your stomach something to work on that's simple and mild.  I gotta say, though—I'm glad to hear you're concerned about what you eat.  Maybe you really don't want to consider an abortion?"

            Sara didn't answer, but Greg could tell she'd be keeping the baby, or at least bringing it to term.  "How do you know so much about having a baby?"

            He smiled at her.  "If you must know, Miss. Nosy-Rosie—"

            "I'm nosy?  Weren't you were the one who grilled me about all this yesterday?"

            "Semantics.  Anyway, the short story is that my sister got pregnant during her sophomore year of college.  I was young enough to be spending most of my extracurricular time at home, so I helped out.  I did all the research-y stuff."

            How on earth did she not know this sort of stuff about him?  "So, what's the long story?"

            He leaned back again and shut off the TV.  "Liz went on a trip to France—her first time abroad alone.  It was over winter vacation and four weeks after school started, she came home sick.  She arrived while our parents were at work, which meant that I saw her first…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            "What are you doing home?"

            "Nothing!  I mean, I'm sick.  Is that any way to say hello?"

            "Sorry.  Hello.  What's wrong?"

            She looked around, then dropped next to her brother.  "Greg."  She took a calming breath.  "Greg…oh, Greg…"

            "Oh my gosh.  You're dying!"

            "No!  No, Greg, I'm pr…pre…I'm pregnant."

            He only stared at her for a moment.  "Holy cow!  How did that happen?"

            "You've had sex ed., Greg.  I think you know how it happened."

            "You…ew!  Gyah, you're my sister!  I don't want to think about that.  Never, ever bring that up again."

              "How am I gonna tell mom and dad?  They'll die."  She began to sob.  "I'm so stupid.  I can't believe what an idiot I was.  What'll happen to my future?  I can't be a mom and go to school at the same time.  Do you know how demanding Harvard is?"

            "It's gonna be okay.  I know—let them think you're dying, then they'll be so relieved you're only have a baby, they won't get upset."

            "That idea is crap."

            "It's the only one I've got."

            "Oh, Greg.  What am I gonna do?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            "As you can see, you're not my first prego-in-distress."

            "Prego.  That's lovely.  So, what happened to her?"

            "Well, Liz took a year off and helped out at our dad's business part-time.  She had the baby in September and went back to school in January.  They lived in a little apartment off campus until she graduated."

            "And the dad?"

            He shrugged.  "In France.  Liz married a great guy she met in Norway but Gef's never met her real father."

            "Gef?"

            "Gefjon.  My niece."

            Sara had heard of bad names before, but this really took the cake.  "Why would she name her poor child Gefjon?"

            "Gefjon is the Norse goddess of virgins.  It's like giving your kid a patron saint, only no one can spell it."

            She just shook her head.  To herself, Sara wondered what else she didn't know about Greg.  He seemed like an open-book, but new facts kept popping up.  He was becoming more mysterious than Grissom.  "Are you hungry?" she asked finally.

            "Already ate; cold pizza and orange juice.  But I'd be happy to stay here if you want the company.  Or any advice on what to eat."  She nodded her assent and he grinned.  "Okay, this is when you want to start eating lots of small meals.  If it sounds gross, don't touch it.  If it sounds good and satisfies health requirements, go for it.  What sounds good to you?"

            She mulled the question over.  "Fruit.  Tons of fresh fruit.  Grapes and strawberries, bananas and oranges.  And maybe some vanilla yoghurt to dip it in.  I don't suppose you feel like going grocery shopping?"

            "Will you buy me a toy?"

*******************************

            Greg showed up on Sara's doorstep every day with a cup of ginger tea and some soda crackers.  She probably could have got those things for herself, but getting it seemed like a lot of work to microwave some water and drop in a tea bag.  Plus, there was getting the crackers out of the cupboard and, frankly, that was just too difficult.  They always arrived together at work, kibitzing about pregnancy (until they entered the building, at which point Sara always changed the subject).  They started to take their breaks together and discuss all number of things over fruits, vegetables, high-fiber breads, mild meats and cheeses, and a half pint of milk.  They even left together, when Greg could get away (Sara hadn't noticed before, but Greg often helped the day shift and usually stayed after one, two, three—even four—hours).  Acquaintance was fast blossoming into friendship.

            This did not go by Grissom unnoticed.  He watched in silence as his best lab tech and most favored CSI became best friends.  What was going on?  They'd never been chummy before.  In fact, Sara had always seemed a little disdainful towards Greg.  Was this her way of trying to get back at him?  Of course, the brilliant crime solver had no idea it was all because he'd knocked her up.  And Sara had already determined things should stay that way.  He wouldn't be finding out about fatherhood any time soon.