Thanks for all your reviews, you are amazing! Here's chapter two, it may seem a little slow but it will speed up in chapters three/four. Here is what I hope is a sweet chapter, maybe a little bittersweet.

So please. Read (and I love you). Enjoy (and I'm very happy). And Review (and I love you for ever and ever and ever and ever!)

Chapter Two – Memories at Bedtime

Sara slammed the car door shut, Eli on her hip and shopping bags in her hand. Hank began barking joyously as she opened the door and Eli screamed.

"Its okay, it's just Hank. He won't bite." Sara murmured comfortingly, but Eli clung to her tightly. Hank sniffed at him with interest and Eli yelped.

"Bad dog!"

Hank cocked his head and stared at Sara, who spoke in a much softer tone than the small boy. "Its okay. Bed, Hank."

Hank let out a sound almost like a sigh and retreated to his bed. Sara carried Eli into the large but plain guest bedroom.

"This is your room. I know it's quite boring but we can decorate it soon, okay?"

Eli nodded mutely. 'Bad dog' were the only two words he had said since leaving the hospital. Sara almost swore when she saw the bed. Of course. No sheets. She laid Eli down on her own bed before quickly throwing clean sheets on Eli's. When she returned to the bedroom however he was fast asleep. Sara smiled sadly and walked back to the living room to fuss Hank a while, when she noticed the flashing on the answer phone. She clicked play, staring at the open beer on the table.

"Sara, I'm just calling to say that everything's gone according to plan and I should be leaving Brazil on time. Unfortunately a monkey stole my phone charger so I won't be able to call you until I get back. I love you." Grissom's voice ended and Sara swore quietly.

How was she going to give her husband the heads up that they had a kid? As if on cue Eli screamed. Sara raced to the bedroom to find the boy thrashing wildly.

"Eli!"

He screamed and Sara raced hesitantly over, trying to remember back to what her own mother would do for her. She stroked his hair and murmured his name and Eli slowly woke from his nightmare. His eyes instantly focused on Sara.

"I want my mommy!" He sobbed.

"Oh, baby, I know!" She whispered, her heart breaking in two. She wrapped her arms around Eli and he hugged her tightly until they both drifted off into sleep.

CSIVCSIVCSIV

Nick groaned and flopped down on the sofa, baby firmly in his arms. He rubbed a hand over his eyes as he remembered the previous night.

"Come on, Cassie, breathe through it!" Nick encouraged as the teenage girl screamed. The midwives bustled around as she cried out.

"I can't do it!" Cassie sobbed. Nick held her hand tightly. In the day the girl had spent with him before he had felt himself grow close to her. She sort of reminded him of Nessa, one of his nieces.

"Sure you can, kiddo." Nick squeezed her hand. She squeezed it back even harder. Nick's heart was racing as the midwife nodded.

"Its time. You have to push, now honey."

Cassie groaned and pushed as hard as she could. Nick's eyes widened as Cassie pushed out a baby.

"That's it, good girl!" He grinned. "That's it! That's it, well done, Cassie. You did it, you did it kid! Well done!" He grinned as the nurses whisked the baby away to wash it and Cassie sobbed with relief.

"Nick!" She gasped. Then she grinned weakly. "Thank you for being here!"

"Its okay." Nick smiled as the nurse passed the baby to the mother.

"It's a girl."

"She's so tiny." Cassie whispered.

Nick stroked Cassie's hair. "What are you gonna call her?"

Cassie shrugged. "I...I don't know. I don't feel too good..."

Nick frowned and the nurses and midwives crowded around.

"She's bleeding..." One of them murmured.

"Can you distract her?" Another muttered. Fear stabbed at Nick's heart at the thought of the young teen he barely knew dying on him.

"Hey Cassie, what do you want to do first when you get her home?"

The teens eyes fluttered. "I'm tired. Nick I... Look after her."

"No, no, no! What are you talking about? You're gonna be fine."

"Can...can we call her Kristina?"

Nick smiled. "Cass, she's your baby. Call her what you want. I think its a nice name."

Cassie smiled. "Kristina McBride." She frowned. "If something happens, will you look after her? Not let her go...foster care?"

Not at all surprised, Nick smiled. "Of course. But you'll be okay. I won't need to."

"Would you call her Stokes?"

"What?"

"If you hadda look after her?"

"If you wanted me to."

Cassie nodded and closed her eyes. "I love you." She whispered to the baby. Nick smiled but his smile faded as she stopped breathing and her head tilted back.

"Cassie? Cassie!"

He wiped angrily at the tears in his eyes and sobbed. He remembered telling Sara that he thought Cassie was alive, seven years ago. He remembered the sweet little girl he spoke to in the hospital. He remembered the visits and the letters. He remembered the birth, the death. He stared at the tiny baby.

"Kristina McBride Stokes." He murmured, his voice tight and choked. "Kristina." He mused. "Bit long. How about Kristy?" The newborn stirred in her sleep. "I guess you like it. You know I had a friend called Kristy once. She was a... Well we kinda bumped into each other a lot. We started dating and the same night she got murdered. She was amazing though. Doom and gloom, hey kid? I don't even have a crib." He thought about it for a minute and grabbed at the phone. He pressed number one on his speed dial.

"You've reached Catherine Willows, I'm busy at the moment so if you leave your name, number and a good reason I may call you back."

He shook his head as he left a message. "Hey Cath, its Nick. I was just lookin' for some advice, if you get a chance gimme a call?"

He sighed and pressed two on his speed dial, very relieved when a groggy voice croaked "Hello?"

"Mom."

"Nick? Its 3am, what's wrong?"

"I have a problem."

He could hear his mother shake of some of the sleep. "Nicky, are you alright?"

He sighed and Kristy chose that moment to start crying. "I've kinda got a kid."

"What! What did you do, knock someone up and-"

"No! No!" Nick groaned. "I told Cisco about it the other day, did he tell you about Cassie McBride?"

"The pregnant teenager?"

"Yeah. She died." Nick said quietly.

"What?"

"She bled to death giving birth. Yesterday. Named me guardian."

"Oh, Nick." His mother sighed. "Is there anyone else?"

"No. Her parents and brother are dead and I am not putting this girl into foster care."

"I wasn't suggesting that you should, I-"

"Her mom was raped and impregnated in foster care, I'm not going to-"

"Nick, I said I wasn't suggesting it."

"Oh. Sorry mom. I just don't know what to do."

"Do you have a crib?"

"No."

"Baby formula or breast milk?"

"A couple of bottles from the hospital."

"Diapers?"

"About three."

"Baby clothes?"

"No."

"Blankets?"

"Yes."

"Okay, Nick. First thing in the morning you need to get those items, and a couple more things okay?"

Nick jotted down a list. "So what do I do for know?"

"Do you have a car seat?"

"No I caught a bus from the hospi-...yes. Jake left Anna's old baby car seat here when he visited last time."

"Well, God bless your brother then. She can sleep in there for tonight. Look, Nicky, I have court tomorrow afternoon, can I call you in the morning?"

"Sure. Thanks mom."

"Anytime, Nicky. I'm so, so sorry about your friend."

"Yeah. Bye mom, love you."

"I love you too."

Nick rocked the crying baby and grabbed a bottle, gently feeding her the way the nurses showed him. She hushed slowly as he rocked her.

"S'okay, Daddy's here." He sung softly. She stared up at him with her mom's bright blue-green eyes. Nick carried her to the garage and single handedly pulled the car seat out of its box and carried it and the baby to his bedroom. He thought for a moment before clearing his large bedside table and putting the seat there, making sure that it was stable before lowering the tiny newborn down. He raced through the shower and cleaned his teeth, throwing on his pyjamas to the sound of Kristy crying.

"Okay, okay!" He picked her up and frowned when she refused the milk. He checked to see if she'd messed her diaper but she hadn't. "What's wrong?" He groaned when she wouldn't stop crying and climbed into bed, sitting up against a pillow rocking her softly.

"Pancho, you gotta go to sleep now!"

Nick shook his two year old head firmly.

"Well, I'm going now."

"No!" He cried. "Cisco stay!"

"Cisco's going to bed." His father headed for the door.

"Ciiiiiscooooo!" Nick wailed, and his dad sighed, sitting on the edge of Nick's bed.

"Why don't you wanna sleep, Pancho?"

"Muntas." Nick replied simply, grabbing his dad's arm.

"There's no such thing as monsters."

"Dere is. Dake told me."

"Jake told you?" Bill Stokes shook his head. "Aw, Pancho... What am I gonna do with you?"

"Song?" The toddler asked hopefully.

Bill shook his head with a smile and stroked his youngest son's hair. "I am just a poor boy though my story's seldom told..."

Nick blinked as the memory dispelled and he automatically continued to sing softly. "In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade and he carries a reminder of every blow that laid him down or cut him 'til he cried out 'I am leaving, I am leaving but the fighter still remains!'"

Kristy's sobs spluttered and turned to hiccups and then ceased all together as Nick sang and she looked up at him with wide eyes. As he continued her eyelids drooped and her thumb found its way into her mouth.

"Lie la lie, lie la lie lie lie la lie, lie la lie, lie la lie lie lie lie lie la la la la…lie…" he finished with a small smile as Kristy slept. He carefully lowered her into her car seat, thanked God for Simon and Garfunkel and fell asleep with a smile on his face as soon as his head hit the pillow.

CSIVCSICSIV

Greg somehow managed to manoeuvre the two babies through the door, thanking Morgan and locking the door behind her. He put his kids in the two cribs he had bought the day before that were currently squished into his bedroom and sighed. His kids. His. Greg Sanders - the dad! And what about Nick and Sara, he thought to himself. All in the same day? He flopped down fully clothed on the top of the covers and stared up at the ceiling.

"You're laughing at us aren't you?" Greg frowned at whatever God or Gods existed.

Suddenly his phone rang and both babies started crying.

"Who the hell would call right now?" He muttered, picking up the phone. "Hello?"

"Oh, Greg are you alright?"

"Mom?" Greg frowned, picking up the baby boy and stroking his daughter's hair, holding the phone with his neck. I really need to name my kids, he thought. "Is something wrong?"

"You called me earlier, said it was important and my phones playing up and I only just got your message and I was so worried and is that crying?"

"Mom, calm down, I'm fine. You didn't have to call at four am." Greg said wryly, as the girl began to hush. His son however continued to wail.

"Who's crying, are you okay?"

Greg took a deep breath. "That would be my son."

"Who's Mason?"

"Not Mason. My. Son."

"What?" Greg's mom whispered.

"I have two kids. Twins. Three months old."

"Why am I only being told now?" His mother's voice sounded like it was building up to a shriek.

"Because I only found out a couple of days ago and I only had confirmation it was mine a few hours ago."

"What the hell did you do?"

"I had a girlfriend about a year ago, Lisa Culler. She cheated on me from day one, caught her on day three. We broke up, but before that we broke the condom. She never told me. Came around the other day, came up to my apartment, left the kids with me and took off."

"Why?" His mother spluttered.

"I don't think she cared." Greg spat. "She left them in the car. I wish she's given them to me sooner..."

"Oh, Greg...are they alright?"

Greg half smiled at his mom's immediate concern.

"They're fine. They're fine now. I'm gonna contact a lawyer tomorrow but I think I've got full custody."

"Oh, Greg!" His mother's voice sounded more excited. "What are they called?"

"She didn't name them." Greg sighed.

"So have you?"

"Mom, it took me a week to name my hamster! I'm gonna throw some names around tomorrow, make it all official."

"Good. I'm so relieved your okay."

Greg rolled his eyes. "I know, Mom."

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Gregory Hojem Sanders!"

"Sorry Mom!" Greg grinned. "You know me too well."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Greg! Wait!"

He frowned at his mom's sudden desperation. "What?"

"Your...your dad would be very proud."

Greg sighed. "Sure."

"Greg, how long did it take you to make up your mind you were going to keep them?"

"I did think about it." Greg protested as his son tugged on his ear.

"Honestly, Greg."

"Two seconds."

"Your father would have done the same thing."

Greg sighed.

"Greg..."

"I know mom. I miss him too."

"I love you sweetie."

"Bye Mom."

"Say bye to my grandchildren for me."

"I will. They love you too."

Greg's mom laughed slightly. "And I love all three of you. Bye honey!"

"Bye Mom!" Greg hung up and turned to stare into his son's eyes. They were almost identical to his own. "You are not being very good, leave my ear alone!"

The baby boy poked him in the eye.

"OW!"

"Ow! Greg!" a man laughed. Four year old Greg Sanders giggled and poked his dad in the eye again. "Yowee!"

"Oops!" Greg smiled innocently.

Mark Sanders lifted his son into the air and swung him around, his feet flying over the crystal clear water beneath their small sailing boat. Greg squealed with delight.

"Daddy put me down!"

Instead, Mark brought Greg down onto his hip. "See this end of the rope?"

He pointed out a rope to Greg who nodded.

"It's called the bitter end. Can you remember that?"

"Da bitter end." Greg nodded again. "I can 'member daddy."

"You have a good memory, Greg. How long do you think you can remember that?"

Greg concentrated. "Da bitter end. Da bitter end. I will memember for years and years

"That's my good boy." Mark smiled, ruffling his son's hair. "Love you, kid."

Greg smiled a sunny smile. "Love you daddy. For as long as I memember its da bitter end, and dats foreber."

Mark laughed.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"Y'know da Lion King?"

"Yeah."

"Simbas' daddy leabes him all alone. You won't leabe me alone, will you daddy?"

His dad went quiet.

"Daddy?"

"No, Greg. I won't leabe you."

"I knowed it!"

"Knew it." Mark corrected mildly.

"Knew it."

"Good boy."

"Pwomise?"

"What?"

"Dat you won't leabe? Foreber?"

"I can't promise that, Greg." Mark sighed.

"Why? Why would you leabe me?" Greg frowned, his small face contorting in a heartbreaking expression filled with anxiety and sorrow. "You can't leabe me Daddy, you can't!"

"I promise I'll try not to, okay Greg?"

"Twy?"

"My hardest." He placed Greg onto the floor and knelt with his hands on Greg's shoulders, staring into the almost identical eyes. "Greg, with my job, one day I might have to leave you. I won't have a choice. But I will promise that I will try my hardest not to leave you. My very hardest. I promise."

Greg considered for a moment. "Oday"

"Okay."

Greg looked up away from his son's eyes, the same eyes that Mark Sanders had passed down to Greg and stared up at the sky. "Miss you, dad."