A/N This might appear to be the ending but there is at least one more chapter to go-more likely two. I have to give Micah and Hannah some love and give Daddy Grissom a heart attack when he finds out his little girl is in love. Shout out to Danese and Cybro
Gil Grissom watched as he listened to the steady hum of the monitors. Stable. She was stable. The baby was stable. It would be fine.
Finally after three hours of back and forth with Hannah, Sara had fallen into a solid sleep. Hannah seemed to have joined her. Grissom was sure he would never sleep again.
He'd just left the stand after testifying in a manslaughter case. He pushed one on his cell phone after he read the display. Five missed calls from Sara. Sara knew he was in court. Knew his phone was on silent. Something was wrong.
No one answered their land line. When he finally reached Sara's cell phone it was Laura's voice he heard.
"Gil?"
"Where is she?" He almost shouted as he passed Warrick in the hallway. The familiar bark caused the other man to lift his head from the file he was reading. By the time he focused, Grissom had rounded the corner and was out the front door of the courthouse.
"She's fine Gil-""Where is she?" he said sharply.
"We're at St. Philip's. Sara was having some contractions."
Contractions? It was too soon for contractions. He was five minutes from the hospital but it seemed like an hour.
The monitor made some erratic sound that jarred him from his ruminations. He contemplated Sara's belly as it rose and fell with each of her breaths.
With quiet determination he moved his chair closer to Hannah.
"Hannah-sweetheart," he whispered "Your old man needs you to do something for him. Just this one thing and for the rest of your life all you have to do is make good grades and be pretty. That shouldn't be so hard considering your fantastic gene pool and yes that was sexist and fathers of little girls are allowed. I need you to stay in there for another eight weeks. I mean you can stay longer if you want-don't' tell your mom I said that. Coming out right now is not good for you. Your little lungs aren't ready. And there's some other stuff too. See your Dad, in case you haven't figured out yet, is what my mother has affectionately called a foot dragger and an over-thinker.
I over-thought everything with your mom, which is why we ended up here with you on the way and no ring on your mom's finger. I had these plans-these fabulous plans about proposing in front of our family and friends but actually getting that motley crew together is not exactly working. I have spent a lot of these past few months trying to make up for the years of my abject stupidity and I guess I have done a pretty good job. But for this one last thing you gotta stay put kiddo. Call me old fashioned. Hell, call me old as you most certainly will when you get a good look at me, but I don't want you to be born out of wedlock."
Grissom touched Sara's belly lightly. "Look if you can't give me two months I understand. According to all the research a month should be fine. I know you want to get out here and see what's happening. You have quite an exciting life waiting for you. Two wonderful grandmothers who can't wait to spoil you rotten.
You have a bevy of uncles who are ready to scare away all the boys with guns and frightening hair. I probably should explain about your Uncle Nick. He's not dressing in drag or anything. He's a straight guy who is a spit away from forty. He just, well, he recently quite smoking, and he's been doing strange things with his body hair.
And Greg, well Greg is not ever going to have normal hair, and that's working for him. He's funny and reliable and smart as the dickens. Tell him I said that and I will disavow all knowledge.
Warrick used to have some twisty things but now it's just an afro-I think. He's smooth with a capital "S" and he can teach you all the tricks the boys will try to pull.
Brass, now there is a normal head of hair if I ever saw one. He's going a little bit bald and he dyes. You know I used to dye mine too. Well I still dye. Well I don't actually, Martin is transitioning me because it looked a bit foolish. Well maybe not, I would like to think my not so natural locks contributed to your being here.
Then there's Catherine. Cath is well... There are a number of useful things Cath can teach you as you grow into a young woman. I just don't want to know about any of them."
Grissom took a deep breath and kissed the smooth taut skin thought the stiff white gown. "Thanks for listening sweetheart. I know you're going to do the right thing."
Just then Grissom felt Sara's hand brush across the back of his head. "You're an idiot. Where's my ring?" she managed to croak out.
He smiled into tired eyes and took her left hand in his white one. "It's beautiful. It's special. Unique.
"Where is it?"
"At home. You want me to go and get it?"
Sara considered for a second finally shaking her head. "No. It can wait-I guess-but I want a minister."
"You got it."
"A real one. No space aliens or Elvis. Someone that had to go to school and study hard."
"We can have a rabbi and a priest if you want." His lips brushed her forehead.
"And cake. I want a chocolate cake with white sparkly icing." Sara felt as if the weight of the world was from the shoulders.
"To match your dress."
Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. "The dress was my mother's idea."
"I might be a foot dragger but I'm not stupid. I know about the dress. It is hanging in your closet."
Sara looked at the monitors. Pleased to see the peaceful movement of lines and flashes. "There's so much to do. What if she can't wait? What if she's too excited?"
"If she can't wait I am sure I can find a priest somewhere around here and I think the staff can be bought off with some cake. You don't worry about anything. We have two mothers and one Catherine to deal with a wedding.
But I have confidence in our girl. She's going to stay put and we are going to have a wedding. And when we leave this hospital with our little girl in our arms we'll be Grissom, Grissom and Grissom."
"We could start a forensics firm."
"She's not going to be some weird scientist. She's going to be normal. An English teacher or something."
"Whatever you say honey."
22 years later
Hannah looked around the cozy room. All her thrift store furniture was in place. Curtains from Aunt Catherine and Uncle Warrick billowed in the light breeze. Flowers from her little brother rested in an ancient milk jug. The skillet and saucepan Rashad ordered from Amazon had been washed. They now sat conspicuously? on the drying rack.
She resisted the urge to squeal. She had her own apartment. Her very own apartment. So what if her parents owned the building and occupied the first floor. It was still hers. She paid rent and opened a locked door with her very own key.
Her parents had broached the subject when Mrs. Wales, the former tenant and previous owner of building, had died while reading Miss. Marple and sipping a glass of port.
She'd been thrilled first and hesitant second. She insisted that she pay a fair and reasonable rent. They charge her what they had charged Mrs. Wales. It was not fair, they could charge triple that, but for her it was certainly reasonable that and her family did not consider the four rooms upstairs part of their own domicile. She finally gotten all the things moved in and except for helping her unpack her parents and brother had not so much entered or domicile. They were following rules. Call before you come up the stairs. This was not an extension of their home. This was Hannah's home. She smiled as she wondered who would be the first to break the rule. Noah was her guess though lately training had been keeping him busy. He was out of his slump and on track for the Olympics. What a hoot her little brother was going to be an Olympian. Just the other day he'd been putting frogs in her bed.
She half expected him to be on the other end as her phone let out a little beep.
"Hello," she said airily.
"Hello." Micah's refined European accent filtered through the phone.
"Did I forget something at the office?" She knew she hadn't.
"Uh no. This isn't work related. I was wondering if I might take you out to dinner and give you your housewarming or flat-warming present."
Hannah took a deep breath. "Can you hold for one second?"
That did it. They had officially crossed the line. The light flirting, the hands brushing as he walked her home or they ate a late lunch. An image of her parents flitted across her mind. Another teacher, another student, time wasted, opportunities missed. Technically he wasn't her instructor any longer but he was still her boss. Did she want this? Did she want to care about him enough to cross the line? Was he worth the risk?
Yes, yes and yes. She put the phone to her ear and spoke lightly. "Pick me up at five. You know where it is?"
"Corner of Sidney and Green. House with the red door."
"Come up the stairs and you'll be at my door."
"I can't wait."
Neither could she.