Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: Had to get this out before I go out for my birthday date. I'm 25 today; I'm old, according to everyone. I don't feel it;) Well, enjoy this chapter and thanks for all the kind feedback thus far.

Moments

by Kristen Elizabeth

"Oh my god…"

"Isn't she the most precious thing you've ever seen?"

"Adorable. Absolutely adorable."

Usually, the sound of a half-dozen women fawning over a baby was something Warrick avoided like the proverbial plague. But that day, as he rounded the corner on his way to pick up his messages from the front desk, he gravitated towards the noise, rather than away. Because at the very center of the flock of female employees was Sara.

"Hey there, Momma," he greeted her after parting the crowd.

Sara accepted Warrick's kiss on her cheek with a smile and a whispered, "Thank you," for saving her from the estrogen overload.

He looked down at the carrier in her hands. "Baby's first trip to the lab?"

"It was bound to happen sooner rather than later."

Warrick marveled at the little girl sleeping soundly in the cushioned carrier. At three weeks old, Rosalind was showing every indication of taking after both her mother and her father in terms of looks, at least. Her hair was Sara's, straight and dark brown, but her skin was already taking on the golden tone of Grissom's. All in all, she was a beautiful baby, and Warrick predicted that his boss had better keep in shape as he aged because when Rosalind grew up, he would have to fend off boys with a stick.

"You're both looking pretty good," he told Sara. "No one would believe you gave birth under a month ago."

"It's still going to be awhile before you see me around here in my old clothes," she answered with a blush. "But thanks."

Warrick leaned across the front desk to accept a few message slips from Judy, the receptionist. "I assume you're looking for Grissom?"

"I thought we'd stop by and say hi, but really I just needed to get out of the house," she confessed. "I can't take any more soap operas or inane talk shows."

"Sure, I can imagine." He paused. "I hate to tell you that you made the trip for nothing, but your hubby's out in the field. 419, I think. He took Greg." She looked a bit disappointed at this. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Sara nodded. "I just…well…I miss work." She smiled down at her daughter. "I love being at home with her, but I can't help but miss the puzzle. The chase. You know."

Warrick chuckled. "Look who you're talking to here."

"Right." She glanced around. "Well, I guess we should be going then."

"I don't think so." He held out his hand for the carrier and Sara handed it over with a confused frown. "If Catherine knew I let you get out of here without stopping by to see her, I'd be on decomp duty for a month."

Sara's nose crinkled up. "Got it."

She followed him down the familiar hallways, pausing occasionally to smile at a waving co-worker. The last time she'd been in the lab, she'd been seven months pregnant and had attracted just as much attention for it, if Warrick remembered correctly. There had even been that day when she'd fashioned a sign that read in bold red marker "Keep your hands to yourself" and stuck it to her protruding belly to ward off the overly-curious. She'd never live that one down.

They stopped in front of Catherine's open office door. "Guess who came to visit," Warrick announced their arrival.

Catherine looked up from a lab report with annoyance that quickly melted into a matronly smile. "Hey there." She abandoned her desk and immediately took the baby from Warrick. "Hi, precious," she cooed. "Don't you look adorable in that outfit?"

"Thanks," Warrick told her, pulling at his black shirt. "But I've worn this before."

Sara rolled her eyes at both of them. "You knew she'd look adorable when you bought it. And I'm still not sure how I feel about my daughter wearing something that costs more than some of my own clothes."

"Lighten up, Sara." Catherine gently eased Rosalind out of her carrier and lifted the baby to her shoulder. "One little jumper from Baby GAP isn't going to turn her into a fashion snob. Is it, darling? No, it's not," she answered her own question as the baby slept on. "Your mom still has plenty of time to ruin you with her questionable fashion sense."

"Take this." Sara dug into the diaper bag she carried over her shoulder and handed Catherine a soft, white cloth. "Unless spit-up on silk is in this season."

Having learned from experience, Catherine draped the cloth over her shoulder. "How's she doing?"

At this, Sara beamed like a true and proud new mother. "Just this morning I think I saw her smile when I was changing her."

"That's great," Warrick said.

"No, that's gas," Catherine corrected him.

"Whatever. It was cute," Sara replied, firmly.

The older woman nodded. "And how are you doing?" She raised an eyebrow. "Going stir-crazy yet?"

"No. Well, not really." She paused. "A little."

Catherine nodded again and gave her a cursory once-over. "Your boobs are looking great, by the way."

Warrick winced. "If the talk is going that way, I am out of here." He gave Sara another kiss on her cheek. "Good to see you, girl. I'll be around."

Once he was gone, Sara answered, "They're huge! I feel like a walking Barbie doll. Totally out of proportion."

"Hey, enjoy it while it lasts. Once you wean her, you'll be missing them. And so will Gil." Sara's face grew red and Catherine couldn't help but laugh. "Of course, you know, Miz Scarlett, you're never gonna be a B-cup again."

"Yes, I've read the books." She hesitated, as though she wanted to say more.

"Ask me anything, Sara. You can't shock me."

Another moment passed before Sara worked up her nerve. "When you had Lindsey, did you go ahead and…um…pick up…things with Eddie as soon as it was okay?"

Catherine sat down at her desk and readjusted Rosalind against her shoulder. "No way," she replied.

Relief seemed to flood through her co-worker. "Really? Because next week we're supposed to be able to resume…um…things…"

"Sara. You had a child together. It's okay to say the word."

"Sex," Sara blurted out. "The doctor said to wait a month, but I don't see it happening. I'm always tired and I feel more like a milk machine than anything else." She bit her lip. "But I want to make him happy…"

Catherine shook her head. "You always have. Look, this is one area where you're going to have to put Sara ahead of Gil. If you're not ready, it's not time, no matter what some doctor says. And don't worry about your husband. He lived the life of a monk for years before you two finally worked things out. He'll survive another couple of weeks or months, whatever it takes."

"How long before you were ready?"

"God, it's been so long, I'm not sure." She thought for a moment. "Two months, maybe? I remember there being at least that many issues of Playboy in my house at the time, to keep Eddie occupied." She grinned wickedly. "Should I pick up a copy for…"

"Thank you, no," Sara cut her off.

"Just trying to help."

Sara arched one eyebrow. "I'll pick them up myself."

Catherine laughed, inadvertently waking up Rosalind. Her little face scrunched up, signaling the onslaught of some serious wailing. "Uh-oh, time for Mommy."

Sara took her daughter just as the screams started. "Shh, baby girl," she soothed. "It's okay. Mommy's here."

It was hard to believe that at one time, she hadn't been able to picture Sara with a family. But as it turned out, underneath that tough shell she presented to the world, she was a loving and nurturing woman. She'd never lose the balls she needed to work in a man's field, and for that Catherine was glad, but with her daughter, Sara didn't need to be one of the boys. She could just be a mother.

Rosalind's cries faded as Sara gently rocked her. Her cloudy-blue, newborn eyes looked up at her mother and to Sara's delight, she flashed a brief grin that was all gums.

"She did it again!"

This time, Catherine refrained from raining on Sara's parade. "She's a smart one. Well, look who she gets her genes from."

Sara glanced up at the older woman. "Was that a compliment? Are we having a bonding moment?"

"Co-worker to co-worker, nah." Catherine flipped her hair over her shoulder with a smile. "Mother to mother…we just might be."

To Be Continued