Title: Baby's First Words

Rating: G

The deal: Okay, so I love Boston Legal. Love it. But I'm not very good at writing fanfiction, and I'm worse at sticking with a multi-part story, and to top it all off, there is no way in hell that I could pull off the characters on Boston Legal. BUT! I know there are people out there who are good at all the things I'm not, and could write wonderful BL ff. I would really love to read some. I feel that as a Boston Legal lover, it is my duty, now that the category has been started, to contribuite to its growth as much as possible, even if my contributions aren't that good- thus this story was born. I hope it is the gateway to lots of worthy BL stories. For now, I took the easy way out and wrote a one-shot "before the show, WAY before the show" piece. So- enjoy, review if you please, because it'll make me feel all warm and fuzzy and I like that.

Oh, and I don't own the show. Just this story and basically everything in it except for one line and one name. Let's see if you can guess which one.

Baby's First Words

Martha Crane was sobbing quietly as she held her baby boy for the first time. After thirteen hours of labor, she was cradling her first born in her arms. She squinted down at him through her tears and took in his blue eyes (so lovely, she thought, too bad many babies were born with blue eyes but changed colors as they grew), his little tuft of fuzzy, colorless hair, his tiny fingers waving about. It was a magical moment.

"Honey!" Garry Crane burst through the entrance of the delivery room in a frenzy. "Honey, oh my god, my flight was detained, there was a storm in London like you wouldn't believe, and I was about to have an attack, I swear, I threatened to sue Delta, I would have, too-" he froze as he spotted his wife, pale but smiling peacefully, rocking a bundle of blankets in her arms. "Oh my god. Is he- she- is our baby- okay? Honey, it's three weeks before the due date, is that-" He stopped to take a breath.

"Garry. Relax. It's fine. He's fine." Martha spoke soothingly, softly. "We have a son."

Tears glistened in Garry's eyes as he walked over to his wife and son. He stared down at the little boy, lost for words. "My son…." He whispered. He looked up into his wife's smiling face. "My family." He helped Martha to stand, and they embraced, cradling their son between them.

"What should we call him?" Martha murmured into her husband's ear.

"Please, my wife's in labor, I need to get to the hospital, I just arrived from London, PLEASE, I need to be with her, this wasn't supposed to happen for three weeks but, well, it's happening now, and I need to get to her-"

"Whoa, man, calm down. Here, take my taxi, I'll wait for the next one. Believe me, you don't want to miss seeing your kid the first time he sees the world. It's some experience, man."

"Thank you! Thank you, I don't know how to thank you-"

"Hey, no problem." The man stuck out his hand. "Dennis Bryson. Congratulations."

"Garry Crane. Thank you so much."

"Dennis," Garry said, "Let's call him Dennis."

Martha looked up at him. "Dennis…. That's a good name." She looked down at her son. "Hey there, Dennis Crane. Welcome to the world."

FIVE MONTHS LATER-

Five months later, winter had turned to summer, Dennis had become Denny, and Martha and Garry Crane had become aware that they had a very intelligent child on their hands. Denny always knew when bedtime was near. A few minutes after his mother had finished spooning mushed-up pears into his mouth, he began to wail. Night after night, he refused to go to sleep until his father had given him a spoonful of his nightly pudding. He would cuddle only with bean-bag toys, never any animals stuffed with cotton or other fabrics. He knew what he wanted and he got it.

One evening, Garry refused to give him pudding. "He has to learn early, Martha," Garry shouted above Denny's wails, "That he can't always get what he wants. DENNY CRANE!" He roared, as his son's cries rose in pitch.

The wails stopped. Garry moved slowly towards his son's high chair, step by step. He stopped and looked down at Denny intimidatingly. Then he bent down so that he and the baby were at eye level. Denny stared sternly back at his father, his brow furrowed in a near frown. "Deh-nee… Cray-nuh," the child intoned firmly.

Garry's mouth opened. He looked around for his wife. "Martha! Did you hear that?" he cried.

"Gracious. Only five months and saying his name," Martha smiled in her calm, lovely way.

"His first words," Garry said reverently. He and Martha leaned in for a kiss. Denny reached out and grasped the leg of his father's pants. Gary jumped and looked over at his son.

"Denny-Crane!" Denny growled insistently. Garry and Martha looked at each other.

"Maybe we should give him a little pudding," Martha suggested, laughing.

Garry picked up his spoon, scooped up a dollop of pudding, and extended it to Denny. Denny leaned forward and licked it up enthusiastically. "Denny Crane," he gurgled in pleasure.

A legacy was born.