Chapter 83

Oh, Baby

"Well, hey there, Tiger," Catherine cheerfully said as she strode into Gil's office that next again night. Gil had his chair turned to the door, he was glancing through a folder he'd pulled out of his file cabinet only moments earlier.

"Not funny," Gil replied coldly to her, knowing she was taking a crack at him for the night before.

"Was funny where I was standing," Catherine mused.

Gil kept his back to her, his cheeks were reddening again, "I'd keep away from Sara for a while if I were you, she's not too happy about the fact that you and Warrick saw what you saw last night…"

"Sara needs to lighten up," Catherine responded.

"Is there something you wanted?" Gil asked casually.

"Look what I have," Catherine answered in a sing song voice.

Gil turned his chair around to see Catherine was holding a baby in her arms, the baby wrapped in a white crocheted blanket. Catherine was grinning from ear to ear.

"Let me guess, you and Warrick skipped the 'dating' part. Decided at your age, why wait? Then jumped right into parenthood?" he asked, putting the folder on his desk.

"This isn't mines," Catherine smirked. "I love Lindsey, don't get me wrong – I won't be squeezing anymore kids out soon – one kid is quite enough."

"So where did you find it?" Gil raised an eyebrow.

"A case me and Nick are working on…" Catherine responded, "Found in a dumpster near a murder scene, would you believe someone could even do that to a baby?"

"I've seen people do worse to children," Gil responded, a tiny ache in his chest, he didn't like to see abandoned or abused children."Shouldn't social services be taking it?" he asked.

"It's a her, Grissom, not an it," Catherine remarked a little coldly.

"Shouldn't social services be taking her?" Gil corrected, slowing his speech just a little in an attempt to seem calm. There was something about having a baby in his vicinity that made him feel very tense.

"They're supposed to be showing up but massive caseloads at their side mean it could be four hours before they get here. In the meantime there isn't much we can do but keep her here," Catherine sighed, she rocked the child absently in her arms, she stared down at her and smiled again.

"Catherine, this is a lab, not a daycare centre. We don't have the kind of facilities to take care of a baby."

"You've had us babysit other kids," Catherine pointed out.

"Yeah, kids that can be quite easily amused with a pen and a piece of paper and a can of coke – not a baby that can scream the place down," Gil sighed.

"Grissom, I have to get back out on the field and finish investigating the scene…"

"So what's keeping you?"

"No one will take care of her," Catherine sighed.

"Catherine, it isn't appropriate that we even have her here. If something happens to her, you know we'd be responsible…?"

"Look, she's been examined, we've picked any trace evidence off her, we've even fed her…all we need is for social services to show up and take her. Surely you can keep an eye on her."

"I don't know the first thing about babies, Catherine."

"You used to be one. That's a start," Catherine came over and placed the baby in his arms.

"I repeat, I don't know the first thing about babies."

"Liar. You're telling me all those books you read, you didn't learn anything about children?"

"I, uh…" he tried, at a loss to convince her whatever he knew wasn't necessarily good enough to give him enough confidence to look after this small child.

"I have to go."

"Catherine!" Gil cried after her, gaping.

"Sssh! You'll wake her…" Catherine whispered and ducked out of the office without another word, leaving Gil holding the sleeping baby.

Gil gave a deep sigh and stared down at the child in his arms, and felt completely helpless. For several moments he stared at this tiny wrinkled thing, this baby that looked much like an old man with no teeth and a puff of brown hair. Couldn't have been more than a few weeks old.

"Is that what I think it is?"

Gil raised his eyes to see Sara standing at the door, a folder in her hand, a curious expression on her face.

"It's not a tiny tears doll, if that's what you think," Gil sighed, he stared helplessly down again, unable to move an inch.

"Who's baby is this?" Sara came in, dropped the folder on his desk and leaned over to examine the child.

"We're not sure yet," Gil admitted, "Catherine is working on the case…baby found in a dumpster near the crime scene…Social Services are coming for this little one – but it could be a while," he explained. "Would you like to babysit?" he asked hopefully.

"Ha…ha…ha…." Sara laughed, "Yeah, right," she rolled her eyes, "I have a hit and run case to solve…besides, I'm not good with kids."

"You're better with them than I am…" he looked at her pleadingly.

"Nice try. I don't have time," Sara waved as she headed for the door.

Gil groaned, "please? Sara! I don't know the first thing about kids…"

"You used to be one," Sara responded with a bright grin.

"Catherine said that too – didn't help. Sara!" he called after her, which jolted the sleeping child awake.

Sara winced and rushed out of the room before he could call out to her again.

Gil sighed, the child in his arms was no longer sleeping – in fact, she was now screaming, her tiny toothless mouth open wide.

It's gonna be a long night, he thought.

It took some time for him to eventually quiet the baby down, he paced frantically with the child in his arms, trying to use a soothing voice that didn't seem to be doing any good. The pacing didn't seem to soothe the child – if anything, only made her ill, and soon Gil had a smear of baby vomit complete with the stench of sour milk on his shirt.

And you wondered why you never wanted to become a father, he thought shaking his head at himself in dismay. God, this is a nightmare, he thought, the child started to calm down after almost forty minutes of screaming. He was relieved that there was no bad smells indicating he would need to change any diapers, and that the baby – apart from having been slightly sick – was perfectly fine.

He sat for a time in the chair behind his desk, trying to do paperwork with one free arm while holding her with the other. My god, no wonder single mothers are known to complain so much. I've had this kid for less than an hour and already I feel like my whole life is disrupted.

Gil curiously stared down at the baby girl, so completely tiny, and looking so out of place in his clumsy embrace. Her tiny fingers absently wiggled, and she gave a soft yawn, large blue eyes lazily looking up at him. He could almost imagine her thinking 'who are you and why the hell aren't you singing me to sleep'. He mused at this.

"Sorry, kiddo, I'm not much of a singer," he said to her with a sigh, he put down his pen, unable to concentrate on his work.

Where the hell are social services? He asked worriedly, tapping his foot in rhythm on the carpeted floor.

His eyes darted back to her again, she was still staring at him, and for a moment, a very swift moment, she reminded him of something. A vision he'd had frequently during the week leading up to his mothers funeral. It had played itself in his mind often enough, that it almost seemed more of a memory than a vision of something that would never happen. His mother was holding a child in this vision, and the child was his. But that child had a blank face.

This baby, the baby he was holding now, had a face, and for a moment, those blue eyes reflected his own. He shivered at that.

I can't hold her anymore, this is just getting too strange, even for me…

With some care, trying to hold the child in one arm securely, he pulled a drawer completely free of his desk, emptied the contents onto the desk, promising he'd clean it up later, and he cushioned the drawer with his jacket, placing the baby in the drawer.

He cleared enough space on his desk to work with, keeping the baby in the drawer on a chair at his side, making sure the drawer was secure enough that it wouldn't fall over, and he began to work as best he could with his piles of paperwork.

"Makeshift crib," came a voice at his door almost half an hour later.

Gil raised his head to see Sara entering his office, "what else could I do? I can't get any work done…"

"Your desk is a mess," Sara pointed out.

"You sure you don't want to babysit?" he asked, his voice more pleading than before.

"No thanks," Sara responded, "just thought I'd stop by and see you on my lunch hour…I take you haven't heard from social services yet, then?"

"No," Gil sighed.

"You…look…upset, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Gil answered, "are you sure you don't want to take her? I really need a break."

"You haven't even had her for that long."

"Long enough," Gil replied.

Sara came over and leaned over the baby, "wow, look at those eyes," she said in wonderment.

"Don't tell me you're going all goo-goo, now too. No pun intended," Gil scrawled his name quickly at the bottom of a report, and pushed it aside.

"I thought you liked babies," Sara glanced over to him.

"I don't dislike them," he confessed, "but I'm not good with them either. Why don't you just hold her for a little bit…maybe you'll get a liking for it and…take her away so I can get some actual work done?"

Sara smirked a little, "babies cry when I hold them."

"Can't imagine why," Gil confessed.

Sara reached down to the cot to pick the baby up.

"Watch her head."

"I know…" Sara looked at him with a knowing smirk, "god, you sounded all paternal there for a moment,"

"Don't even joke about that."

The baby started crying as Sara lifted her into her arms, Sara gave a sigh. "See…kids don't like me…here…you better take her…"

Gil groaned and took the baby from Sara, he stood to pace with the child, hoping it might settle her again.

The phone on his desk began to ring, making the baby cry only louder.

"Answer that, please," Gil sighed.

Sara picked the phone up, replying, "Grissom's office," a moment later, she hung up, "social services just got here. They're at the reception."

Gil smiled with relief, "thank god."

Yeah, it'd never happen in a million years, I know, I'll get flamed saying the chapter sucked and was unrealistic and that social services would be there right away and whatever, but anyway, I had a dream about this chapter and I just had to write it down. The thought of Grissom being pinned down with this kid he didn't want to take care of was too funny for words (in the dream it was funnier than the chapter).

Anyway, if anyone else thinks the chap sucked, I'll blame it on PMS - having a baaaad case of it right now. Well, anyway,

As usual, thanks to everyone who continues to review - and to the lovely people who recommended me in the "Recommended fanfics" thread at YTDAW. Made my day to see that:) (As per usual, mentions of the reviewers will go in the next chapter). Away to curl up and die with cramps now.

Ash