A/N: Happy Chapter! This one's actually one of the last happy chapters. Usual Disclaimer. Law and Order belongs to Dick Wolf and NBC, and the Fall Out Boy song is "Nobody Puts a Baby in the Corner." Enjoy!

Chapter 38- Isn't She Lovely

"Isn't she lovely
Isn't she wonderful
Isn't she precious
Less than one minute old
I never thought through love we'd
Be making one as lovely as she
But isn't she lovely
Made from love"

Isn't She Lovely by Stevie Wonder

It wasn't until early August that the hospital allowed Greg to go home. They had kept him mainly for observation, to help stabilize his t-cell count. As it was, on the day he was discharged, his t-cell count had climbed to almost 100, the highest it had been in a long time, considering what he'd been through. Greg was beyond relieved to be leaving; if he had to stay one more day, he probably would've pulled his hair out from boredom, because let's face it. As thrilling as having free cable may be, watching re-runs of Law and Order on TNT can only entertain a man for so long.

He planned to head not home first, despite strict doctor's orders to do so, but rather to work, to see everyone and say hi. Even though he had seen them all in the hospital, it had been like seeing an animal out of its natural habitat. Only Sara and Nicola had been the same.

Before he left, however, he stopped at the front desk to talk about paying his bill. He needed to know how much of it insurance was going to cover, because he had to pay the rest, and he had a feeling that the insurance company wasn't going to cover a whole lot.

He pulled himself out of his wheelchair and smiled warmly at the receptionist. "Hi, ma'am, my name's Greg Sanders, and I was wondering about the status of my bill."

"You're being discharged today?" asked the receptionist in a bored, nasal voice that Greg swore receptionists had to learn at reception school.

He raised an eyebrow at her, looking pointedly at his wheelchair and the attendant standing behind. "Um, yes, ma'am, I am."

"Hold on, I'll look it up," she sighed, sounding as if Greg had just asked her to perform an impossibly arduous task.

Greg leaned against the counter while he waited, enjoying the feeling of semi-normality. While he had been allowed over the past few weeks to leave his room and wear normal clothes, he had been mostly confined to bed rest. Now, he could stand here, and, despite the wheelchair and nurse, look and feel like a normal guy checking on something in the hospital.

The receptionist finally finished her rapid typing on the computer, and turned back to Greg, frowning slightly. "Mr. Sanders?" she asked.

"Yeah, what's up?" asked Greg, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Your bill has been paid in full by a Gilbert Grissom. He's also left instructions that we send any further bills directly to him." She smiled slightly at Greg. "That's some friend you've got there, Mr. Sanders."

"Yeah…yeah, he is," said Greg dazedly, hardly believing it. He thanked the receptionist before settling back in the wheelchair and allowing himself to be wheeled out to the curb. Nick was waiting for him, since Sara was no longer able to drive, due to the baby.

Nick gave Greg a grin. "Bet you're glad to be out of there, huh?" he asked, helping the attendant situate Greg in the front seat.

Greg smiled slightly. "You have no idea."

Once Greg was set, Nick got in the car himself. Turning it on, he smiled as Greg winced at the blasting country music. "Sorry, Greggo," called Nick over the acoustic guitars and twanging singers, "I forgot that you don't like country music."

Greg gave him a look. "I don't just not like country music," he growled through clenched teeth, "I despise country music." Still glaring at Nick, he turned the knob until it reached a better station. Smiling happily, Greg began air-drumming to the song that was playing, a Fall Out Boy song. "I'll be your best kept secret and your biggest mistake," sang Greg, head bobbing in time to the music.

Nick hid a smile as he turned out of the Desert Palms parking lot. "Alright Greg, where to? You want to head home, or…?"

"No, go to the lab first," said Greg, forehead creasing slightly in thought.

Nick frowned at him. "Something wrong?"

Greg shook his head slowly. "Nothing's wrong, man," he said, still frowning. "I just need to talk to Grissom."

"Ah, I see," said Nick. He hesitated, then asked, "By chance, you didn't happen to try and pay your bill, did you?"

Greg looked at Nick in surprise. "Yeah, I did, how did you know? That's what I need to talk to Grissom about,"

Nick nodded understandingly. "Yeah, about that…we all pitched in to help you and Sara pay for your bills. And before you even start," he said, holding up a hand to stop Greg from speaking. "It's not charity. It's just us being nice because God knows none of us want you to end up broke."

Greg held up a hand of his own to cut off Nick's tirade. "I wasn't going to yell at you. I was going to thank you."

"Oh," said Nick, blushing slightly. He gave Greg a small grin. "It's no problem, man. We're glad to help, even if your stubborn ass refuses to ask."

"Wait, my ass can ask for help?" asked Greg, raising an eyebrow at Nick and trying to suppress a grin.

Nick punched him lightly on the arm. "You knew what I meant," he growled, giving Greg a dirty look.

Suddenly, Greg's cell phone rang. Brow furrowed in confusion, he pulled it out and flipped it open. "Hey, Griss, what's up? Yeah, I'm on my way to the lab…go back to the hospital? Why?" He listened to Grissom's answer and paled visibly. "Now?" he whispered, eyes wide. "Holy shit. Alright, be right there." He hung up the phone and turned to Nick, eyes still huge. "Nick, we gotta get back to the hospital, now."

"Why?" asked Nick, confusion showing on his face. "What's going on? What's wrong?"

"Sara's having the baby."

Greg leapt out of the car the moment it pulled up to the curb. Sprinting into the hospital, he almost bowled over a nurse.

"Whoa, Mr. Sanders, slow down there!" said the nurse with a smile. She held out a hand to steady him. "I thought you were being released today."

"Oh, I was," he said grimly, recognizing the nurse as one of many who had taken care of him. "My wife's here now. She's having the baby."

"Oh, my!" exclaimed the nurse. "I knew she was due soon, but today?" She gave Greg a smile. "Some timing, huh?"

"Oh, yeah, it's impeccable," grumbled Greg. "Can you tell me how to get to the maternity ward?"

"Sure thing. Fourth floor, to the right of the elevator." Greg nodded his thanks and started to leave. The nurse called after him, "Mr. Sanders, you'll want to take the stairs. The elevators take forever."

"Thanks!" called Greg over his shoulder as he strode to the nearest staircase. Taking the stairs two at a time, he climbed up four flights of steps in record time, bursting through the door at the top and racing to the nurse's station. Panting for breath, he exclaimed, "My wife's…having baby…now! Sara…Sanders…where?"

The nurse gave him a bemused glance as she typed Sara's name into the computer. "She's in delivery room 2," she informed him. "You'll need to scrub up if you're planning on being in there with her."

"Where can I do that at?" asked Greg urgently. The nurse pointed to a room across the hall and Greg headed in to change.

A minute later he came out wearing a scrubs shirt and pants and a hairnet that looked absolutely ridiculous over his spiked hair. He went down to Sara's room and went in.

"Greg!" wailed Sara the moment she saw him. She reached out for him, tears and sweat glistening on her face.

"Thank God," muttered Grissom in undertones as he stood, shaking his hand out with a pained look on his face. "I'm fairly certain she broke some of my fingers."

"You'd break some fingers too if you had a baby coming out of your vagina!" screamed Sara before crying out again in pain.

Greg quickly took Grissom's vacated seat next to her and squeezed her hand gently. "Sara, sweetheart, how are you doing?"

Sara's eyes softened slightly as she squeezed Greg's hand back, but then they glazed over in pain with a fresh contraction.

Greg turned his head and asked a nurse, "Has she been given any pain relievers?"

"No, Mr. Sanders," said the nurse as she bustled about, preparing for the baby. "We haven't had time yet to give her an epidermal."

"Well," winced Greg as Sara squeezed his hand with a vice grip, "you might want to get on that."

Sara's OB/GYN entered, putting his gloves on. "Mr. and Mrs. Sanders, how are we doing today, other than the obvious?"

"Oh, we're just fine," said Greg sarcastically, "save for the fact that my hand feels like it's about to fall off and my wife is trying to squeeze a living person out without the aid of an epidermal."

Dr. Wahlberg grinned as he sat on his stool and wheeled over to Sara. "At least your sense of humor is still intact, and that's half the battle." He paused as he examined Sara. "She's fully dilated," he called to the nurse. To Sara, he said, "Alright, Sara, I'm going to need you to push when I tell you to, ok?"

She nodded quickly, not speaking, just gripping Greg's hand tighter. "Ok, Sara, push!" Her face scrunched as she pushed as hard as she could.

"Excellent, excellent," said Dr. Wahlberg. He told the nurse, "The baby's crowning." Turning back to Sara, he said, "Ok, and…push!"

She pushed again, even harder. "Oh, God, is that blood?" asked Greg, paling visibly and looking faint.

Sara whipped her head around to glare at him. "You are not the one giving birth here," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Now is not the time for you to be squeamish."

Greg opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by the doctor's cry of, "One more big push!"

It all happened so fast. One second, Sara was murdering his hand and swearing under her breath, and the next, wails from a tiny baby filled the room along with Sara's cries of relief. Greg sat in shock as the doctor announced, "Congratulations, you are now the parents of a healthy baby girl."

Greg looked at Sara, then at the nurse. Sara nodded in silent approval, and Greg reached up to take his daughter from the nurse. He held her close to him and looked down at her. She was so tiny, all red and wrinkly and bald. She stopped her wailing to ogle at her father with big eyes. "Hi, sweetheart," whispered Greg, smiling at her as tears began to run down his cheeks. "I'm your daddy, and I love you very, very much."

She seemed to smile at him for just a second before closing her eyes and going to sleep. Greg looked at Sara, happiness and wonder written all over his face. "Look at her, Sara," he whispered, brown eyes glowing in amazement. "Just look at her. She's perfect. Absolutely perfect."

"Yeah, she is, Greggo," said Sara softly, reaching out to take her. Sara cradled her for a second, then said, "She looks like you."

"Oh, thanks, so I look all scrunchy and red?" teased Greg, pretending to be hurt.

"You know what I meant," said Sara, too tired to argue with him. She touched their daughter's cheek. "We have to name her, you know." She gave Greg a look. "And since she is a girl, Greg Jr. is not an option."

"It could be," pouted Greg. "Lots of girls have guy's names now." Sara just kept glaring at him. "Alright, alright," he mumbled. He looked over at their daughter and smiled gently. "How about Freya?" he suggested.

"Freya?" repeated Sara. "Is that a Norwegian name?"

"Yeah," said Greg thoughtfully. "Freya was the most beautiful of the Norwegian goddesses." He looked at his daughter once more and grinned. "Freya Kjære Sanders."

"Kjære?" asked Sara, fumbling over the foreign word.

"It means 'love' in Norwegian," replied Greg, taking Freya from Sara and holding her close. "Freya," he said, kissing her gently on the forehead. He cocked one eyebrow at Sara and whispered conspiratorially to Freya, "I should warn you, when your mom doesn't have enough coffee or doesn't get enough sleep, she gets crabby."

"Hey!" exclaimed Sara, smacking Greg on the arm. "You've got plenty of time to share all my dirty secrets with our daughter!"

A painful silence fell as both Sara and Greg realized he didn't have plenty of time left. Sara's eyes filled with tears and she reached out for him. "Greg, I'm sorry…"

"It's ok," said Greg quietly. They sat in silence for a moment as Greg rocked Freya gently. After a moment, he said quietly, "Our daughter."

"Hm?" asked Sara.

"You said our daughter…I like that."

Sara smiled before silently reaching out and taking his hand. At that moment, the nurse came back in the room. "Alright, Mr. Sanders, we're going to have to take her now. Have you decided on a name?"

"Yeah," said Greg, looking at Sara for confirmation. "We've decided to name her Freya. Freya Kjære Sanders."

"That's a pretty name," commented the nurse. "You're going to have to spell it for me, though, because otherwise I'll mutilate it."

Greg smiled and obligingly spelt it out for her before kissing Freya gently on the forehead and handing her over.

"Oh, and Mr. Sanders," continued the nurse as she carried the baby out, "there's a large group here that is about ready to get a search warrant to find out about the baby."

Greg grinned even wider before turning back to Sara. "Is it alright if I go tell them?" he asked.

"Go," said Sara with a yawn as she settled back against her pillows. "I'm exhausted anyway."

Greg smiled warmly and kissed her on the forehead before heading out. He had barely set one foot in the waiting room before he was practically tackled by Nicola.

"Daddy!" she squealed, wrapping her arms around his neck as he kneeled down to hug her. "Did Sara have the baby? Do I have a little brother or sister? What's its name? I hope it's a girl so I can have a little sister to play with and dress up and have tea parties with and…"

"Whoa, whoa!" laughed Greg, straightening while still holding her. "Why don't you let me speak for five minutes and tell you, huh?"

Nicola giggled and nuzzled his neck with her nose. Greg carried her with him to where practically the entire night shift was assembled. "Hi everyone," he said cheerfully, setting Nicola on the ground. "How are we all tonight?"

"Stop stalling, Sanders," growled Brass, "Or else I'm going to arrest you for obstruction of justice."

"Obstruction of justice?" questioned Greg. "I'm pretty sure I'm not obstructing any justice."

"No," said Brass calmly, "but you are pissing me off."

"Sheesh!" said Greg, raising an eyebrow at Brass. "Someone's testy. And it's not me, surprisingly, who just got out of the hospital and had to turn around and come back. I mean, if anybody's got a right to be testy…"

"Greg!" shouted Grissom, Nick, Warrick, Catherine and Brass simultaneously.

Doc Robbins raised an eyebrow at him. "You know, Greg, unless you want to end up on one of my tables, I'd tell them what they want to hear."

"Fine, fine," pouted Greg, the he gave them a big grin. "It's a girl!"

"Oo!" squealed Catherine coming forward and hugging him tightly. "Congratulations! What's her name?"

"Freya. Freya Kjære Sanders," said Greg proudly.

Nick came up and gave him a bone-crushing hug. "Congrats, man. Now you're a daddy."

"Yeah, man," agreed Warrick, giving Greg a high-five and a one-armed man-hug. "Congrats. I know you must be proud."

Nobody except Greg noticed as Nicola slipped away from the celebration. Frowning slightly, he accepted everyone's congratulations and excused himself, following her down the hall. "Nicola?" he called, worry in his voice.

She turned and looked up at him, tears streaming down her face and lip quivering. "Why aren't you with your real daughter?" she asked, and Greg was surprised by the bitterness in her voice.

"Nicola, what's this about, honey?" he asked concernedly, kneeling next to her and taking one of her hands in his.

"You heard all them, what Uncle Nick and Uncle Warrick said about you being a daddy now. But you were a daddy before. You're my daddy."

Greg sighed and pulled Nicola close to him. "Yeah, I am. And that will never change. Everyone's just really excited by the baby." He looked at her seriously. "I will always be your daddy. Don't you remember those papers we signed last month that made it official?"

"But what if…what if you love her more?" whispered Nicola sadly. "What if she's better than me?"

"Sweetheart, no one, no one could ever replace you in my heart. No amount of babies could replace you. You're my angel, remember?" He gave her a crooked smile. "You'll always be my angel."

She smiled at him. "That's good, Daddy. And when you go up to Heaven, you'll be my angel, right?"

"Right," whispered Greg, getting choked up. Still smiling at her through the tears in his eyes, he straightened. "What do you say we go visit your little sister?" he asked, reaching for her hand.

"Ok," said Nicola as she grabbed his hand and skipped down the hallway with her father in tow.