Epilogue

It sounded as if she were crying in another room. What were, no doubt, piercing wails got muffled on their way to Sara's ears, but she didn't care. The doctor placed the screaming newborn on Sara's chest, and the tiny girl squirmed and blinked up at her father who was hovering over his recently expanded family.

The new parents watched as a nurse took their daughter to be cleaned off, wrapping her up in a thin blanket and securing a striped skullcap on the her head.

Grissom tapped Sara's shoulder, getting her attention.

Name? he signed.

Sara smiled and leaned back onto her pillow as the nurse handed her the baby. "I just did all the work and now you want me to name her?"

Grissom held up his battered and bruised left hand that had been squeezed mercilessly for twenty-three hours of labor. He pointed to the rip in his collar, which happened, thanks to Sara, at around hour seventeen. She grinned up at him and then shifted her focus to the small being in her arms. The baby had her hands curled up under her chin. Sara marveled at each perfect nail that tipped each perfect finger. It was a bittersweet moment. Her hearing was all but gone, and she would never hear her daughter giggle at one of Grissom's silly bug jokes or say "I love you, Mommy" before getting tucked into bed at night. Her baby might inherit a hearing disorder from one of her parents along with her father's eyes and her mother's nose. Bittersweet, yes, but Sara knew that if her daughter ever felt as happy as she felt at that moment, she'd be one lucky girl.

They moved Sara to a private room with a view of the water. The baby, still nameless, was wheeled in soon after, Grissom trailing behind, never losing sight of her. The nurse instructed them to press the 'Call' button if they needed any help and then left them alone. Grissom immediately picked up the baby, eager to hold her again. He swayed gently, finding a rhythm and keeping it. Sara smiled dreamily at the pair in front of her. She reached her arms up, but Grissom smirked at her and continued to hold his daughter.

"Hey! Learn to share," Sara laughed.

"She lived in you for nine months," he justified, slowly and clearly so he was sure she could read his lips.

Sara just laughed and rolled her eyes, scooting over so Grissom could sit down on her bed. She leaned in and let the baby grasp her index finger. Around her small wrist was a hospital bracelet. Sara tilted her head and squinted her eyes to read the tiny print. "Sara Sidle? Did they name her for us?"

Grissom shook his head. "The mother's name is put on the child's bracelet so there are no mix-ups," he told her. Sara eyed him skeptically. "I asked one of the nurses," he confessed.

"Well, we need to think of a name. She can't be Baby Girl Grissom for the rest of her life."

"Why argue with the hospital?" Grissom shrugged. "Let's go with what's on the bracelet."

"Excuse me?" Sara looked up and stared at his mouth so as not to miss anything.

"Let's call her Sara."

"You've already got one Sara."

"And now I have two."