It was late, nearly 3 in the morning when Ismira Anderson, 8 and half months pregnant, was awoke with an intense Braxton-Hicks contraction. She groaned softly, rubbing her hand over her rather large belly. She was so tired. She loved this child, but holy hell she wanted to be able to sleep.

Her mouth was suddenly so very dry, so Ismira worked her way carefully out of bed, Connor still asleep on the bed beside her. This blessed man had gone out of his way, nearly an hour, to get her a calzone from the pizzeria in the neighborhood she grew up in. She needed to finish that too, because her body was craving.

Waddling her way down the stairs and to the kitchen, she spotted Hank, Connor's partner and their friend, sitting in the living room. He turned as he heard her approach, his eyebrows lifted. "Is everything alright, Izzy?"

She smiled at the gentleness in his voice. "Yes, just thirsty and craving the rest of my cal—!" She cut off, gasping sharply as another Braxton-Hicks gripped her, her hands flying to her belly.

Hank stood and came to her side. When she smiled up and him, he put a hand on her back and grabbed her hand, leading her to the couch he had vacated. "Sit; I will get them for you."

"Thank you, Hank." She kissed his cheek before she sat. The three of them decided having Hank at the house was better for the android than staying at the precinct constantly and it would be best to have someone to help as Ismira's pregnancy progressed.

As Hank was about to open the fridge, he heard a pop, a gush of fluid, and a gasp. "Get Connor." Ismira stood but sank back into her seat, as her legs started shaking.

Hank and Connor rushed about, getting the bags and helping Ismira into a bra, and comfortable clothing, shoes and her coat before helping her out to the car. Hank drove, and Connor sat in the backseat, holding his wife's hand as another contraction wracked her tired body. "FUCK! Hank, hurry, please!" Ismira wailed, her hand crushing Connor's.

The android nodded and sped through traffic, the siren blaring. "This may be illegal, but I fear your wife more than the law right now." Hank glanced back at Connor's scowling face, but the man agreed with the HK800. His wife was terrifying when the pregnancy hormones had kicked it and she was even more so when she was in pain.

The hospital was empty when they pulled up, a nurse waiting with a wheelchair. Apparently, Hank had called ahead. The nurse led them to a room, intstructing Connor to help Ismira in to the gown and onto the bed. She came back and got an IV into her arm, a saline drip starting, and put the pulse monitor and the blood pressure cuff in place. "Do you want an epidural?"

Ismira nodded. "Yes," she gasped. "Hell yes."

"I'll let the anesthesiologist know."

"Connor, help me put my hair up, please." She leaned forward, letting the man gather her hair into a high ponytail at the crown of her head, securing it with one of the many hair ties she had packed into her hospital go-bag. Her long blonde hair now piled in a rather messy bun on her head, she laid back and held Connor's hand.

"You want anything?" Hank patted Ismira's knee.

"Ice, for the love of God!" She shouted, doubling over. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck!"

Hank nodded and left the room as a doctor entered. "Mrs. Anderson, I am the anesthesiologist on duty. My name is Ryan. I understand you need an epidural?" He introduced himself after her contraction ended. "Go ahead and help her on her side; I need to numb her back before we insert the epidural catheter."

Rolling over on her side was rather hard. She slept on her back, when she actually slept; the shift in the weight on the baby wasn't pleasant on her body. "Ok, you're going to feel a prick here—!"

"Ah!" Ismira doubled over, clutching her stomach as another contraction hit. "Shit!"

Ryan's eyes widened and he rushed out of the room, returning with a nurse in tow who helped Ismira on to her back. "Oh, wow. You are ready to push, sweetie. This happens sometimes." She bustled over to the door, and called for the doctor to enter the room.

"Mrs. Anderson," the obstetrician, Dr. Penn, briskly entered the room, gloved up and smiling. "I understand you're ready to start pushing…"

Nearly 12 hours of pushing and screaming, a smaller, much louder scream sounded. "Congratulations, Mrs. Anderson! It's a girl!" Dr. Penn leaned over and handed the fluid covered, red faced, screaming infant to the exhausted mother.

"Oh, Connor," Ismira gasped. "Look at her…" Tears streamed down her sweaty face as she stared at her daughter's face.

"She's perfect." Connor kissed his wife's temple. "You did good, love."

They cleaned up the afterbirth, ensuring she was comfortable with her now clean child on her chest. The grunts from the tiny girl made as she suckled at her mother's breast made Connor smile. It made him think of when his son was born. Cole was the light of his life and he missed that little boy like nothing else in this world. Help me protect your sister, Cole. Don't let her join you up there for a long ass time, son.

"We will protect her together, Connor." Hank's voice was soft. "I won't let anything happen to her. Ever."

Connor nodded, patting Hank on the shoulder. "I'll take her, hon. You need to sleep."

"We need to name her first." Ismira sighed, her blue eyes drooping with her exhaustion.

"What about Zoe? It means 'life'," Hank offered.

Ismira looked down at the now sleeping baby. "I like it. And Nicole for her middle name. For Cole, her guardian angel and big brother."

Connor teared up. "Zoe Nicole Anderson…" Connor lifted his daughter off her mother and cradled her against his bare chest. "I love it." He rubbed his thumb along her back, resting his cheek gently on her head. "I love you, Zoe Nicole." I love you, Cole. "Forever."