"To witness the birth of a child is our best opportunity to experience the meaning of the word miracle."

Paul Carvel

Lisa O'Reilly knew that something was just not right with her body. Now nearly 39 weeks pregnant, she'd learned to deal with the swollen ankles, indigestion, mood swings, and the myriad of other torturous things that the heir to Rossi fortune was doing to her poor body. This, however, was different.

She'd been experiencing Braxton-Hicks contractions for a couple of weeks, but they were usually, one shot episodes. Today, she woke up with them and they had not yet gone away. Refusing to believe that they could possibly be the real thing, she continued to sit at her desk.

"You okay, Ginger Snap?" Penelope Garcia's voice began, pulling her from her thoughts.

Lisa looked up to find the blonde analyst standing in the doorway with a concerned expression. "Yeah, I think so."

"You look kinda pale," Garcia went on, walking in. "What's going on?"

"I'm fine, Pen," she dismissed, then, casually, "So, is the jet back from Atlanta yet?"

Garcia nodded, "That's what I was coming in to tell you. They just landed." The blonde studied her for a long moment, "You are not okay. Spill it. What's going on?"

Feeling a twinge in her side, Lisa rubbed her swollen stomach. "The baby's giving me grief today, that's all."

"No…" Garcia shook her head, "That's not it." Her smile grew, "You're in labor, aren't you?"

"Labor? No," she shook her head. "No way."

"You are! I watched JJ go through this not even two weeks ago! How far apart are the contractions?"

"Ten minutes, now," she admitted, "But I'm not in agony. I'm just uncomfortable."

"Did you call your doctor?"

She shook her head, "No, I was hoping to live through it."

"Stand up," Garcia commanded, bustling across the room to the side of Lisa's desk.

"What?" Lisa laughed, "Pen, what the hell are you doing?"

"Just stand up!"

Slowly, Lisa raised herself from the chair. As she looked down, she realized that her stomach was not sitting as high as it normally did. Forcing down the panic that was threatening to take hold, she looked up to find Garcia with a massive grin.

"You dropped!" Garcia practically cheered. Picking up the receiver of the desk phone, she held it out to Lisa. "Call the doctor. I'll snag Rossi once he gets in the building."

Lisa didn't move. She couldn't. Panic had gripped her like a steel fist. Looking up at Penelope's excited grin, she willed her friend to help snap her out of her shock.

"Hey," Garcia softly said, taking her by the hands. "You're going to be okay. Just take a deep breath. I'll call your doctor, okay?"

Lisa nodded, numbly and sat down hard on her chair. "Shit, Pen, I'm not ready for this."

"Of course you are," Garcia smiled, dialing the phone. "You'll do fine. I know you will."

XXXXX

Nearly five hours later, Lisa lay in bed in one of Georgetown Hospital's labor and delivery suites. Despite the cheerful green paint and the bright smiles of the nurses, Lisa was not in any mood to be cheered.

She looked up at the television, noting that the 6 pm news had just started. Sighing, she looked around at the now empty room. Rossi had departed nearly twenty minutes ago on the premise of getting himself a cup of coffee.

In that twenty minute period, she'd experienced four contractions, each one closer and more painful than any before. She was tired, she was in pain, and she was in no mood to have the father of her child miss any of it. Grabbing the bedside phone, she quickly dialed his cell phone number.

"I'm right here," he said, walking in the door carrying a Styrofoam cup. "The line was outrageous."

"So sorry to hear that," she said, as another contraction hit.

"Breathe, Little Girl, come on…"

"Breathing sucks," she hissed. "You freaking breathe."

"I am breathing," he calmly said, "But I'm not the one in labor."

"No shit," she said, riding out the last of the wave of pain. "You couldn't handle it."

"I probably couldn't," he allowed, taking a cool wet washcloth and running it over her face.

She glared at him, "Stop agreeing with me."

He laughed at her, knowing, as he did, that he'd made a very large mistake.

Her eyes narrowed and she hissed, "Want to survive the birth of your first child?"

"I'm sorry," he softly said, "I didn't mean to laugh."

"Oh, yes you did," she said, then, "Shit…they're getting closer together."

"What?" he watched as another contraction hit.

Reaching out he took her hand, realizing his second mistake of the evening, as she nearly crushed his fingers in his death grip. He knew better than to say a word, quietly enduring the pain. He knew her pain had to be much worse. As the contraction passed, her grip eased slowly, until she released hi s hand. He flexed it to make sure he still had full usage.

"These things are getting worse," she tiredly said. "I'm sorry, Dave, but we're only doing this once."

"I wasn't going to ask for more," he said with a smile. "I'm perfectly happy with one." He took her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it softly.

"Good," she nodded, feeling the first wave of another contraction begin. "This isn't fair."

"Another one is starting?" he asked, alarm tingeing his voice.

She nodded, "Do me a favor, go find Dr. Walker, okay?"

"He said he'd come back in a bit," he said, watching as the pain gripped her.

".Him," she said through gritted teeth. "I feel like I have to push."

"But you're only dilated 6 centimeters," he rationalized.

Now fully engaged in the pain, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer, "Go. Get. The. Fucking. Doctor. Now."

"Okay," he said, recognizing the fear in her eyes. "I'll be right back."

She watched him go as she rode out the end of the contraction. Closing her eyes, she tried to get a moment of rest. But the voice of her obstetrician interrupted her.

"What's going on, Lisa," he calmly asked, pulling on a pair of latex gloves.

"My body wants to push," she said, feeling the next contraction. "And here comes another contraction."

Dr Walker quickly broke down the bed and pulled out the stirrups. He spoke calmly, as he helped Lisa position her legs. "I need to examine you," he began, "So, do not push. Not this time. I will let you know when it's time, okay?"

She nodded as the pain increased.

"Just ride it out, Lisa," Walker coached, pulling up the sheet. He smiled.

"What?" Rossi asked, wondering why in God's name this man was smiling like that. "Why are you smiling?"

"Because, once again, the mother's body knows what to do," he explained, "Lisa, you're completely dilated. With the next contraction, I want you to start to bear down and push, okay?"

"Hell yeah," she nodded, gearing up for the next contraction that had just started to build. "Let's get this over with."

Rossi took his place at her side, watching her as she mentally prepared herself for the birth of their child. It struck him, at that moment, how much he truly loved this woman. Sure, he'd knocked himself out to win her back and she had not made the road an easy one to travel. There were moments where he questioned his own sanity, wondering if it was all worth it. But now, at this moment, he knew that she was paying it all back in spades.

"You with me, Dave?" she asked her face contorting as the pain hit.

"I'm with you, Little Girl," he smiled, gripping her hand, "Squeeze the shit out of my hand if you need to…"

"You know I will," she nodded, turning her attention back to the task at hand.

The next half hour or so passed in a blur and he stood by, watching her admiring her strength. Finally, Dr Walker spoke.

"And there's the head," he said with a smile, "Kid takes after his father."

"God, I hope not," Lisa laughed, trying to catch her breath.

"Come here, Dave, check this out," Walker encouraged.

Rossi looked at Lisa, "I'm gonna need my hand."

"Sorry," she said, releasing it, "Tell me what I'm missing. I refuse to look in the mirror."

He walked down to the foot of the bed, trying like hell to appear casual, as if he was just walking across the room. As he reached the foot of the bed, another contraction hit and he watched as the baby's head emerged. He didn't even try to hide the smile that was spreading. "Kid's got my hair, Lisa."

"Damn dominant genes," she said, through gritted teeth.

"Lisa," Dr Walker chuckled, "You know how genetics works, did you think you'd have a red head?"

"Trust me," Rossi added, "There are no red heads in my family tree."

"If you two are quite done the genetics lesson," Lisa said, "Can you get that kid out?"

Walker's tone once again became business-like, "Okay, with this next one, you're going to pass the shoulders. This is the most painful part, but once they're out, this little one will just slide right through. Are you ready?"

Lisa nodded, as her face took on a mask of calm. Rossi knew that look; he'd seen it come over her at crime scenes, when she had to focus past the carnage and study things analytically. "Here it comes…" she announced, then started to bear down.

"And here go the shoulders," Walker said.

Pulling his eyes from Lisa's face , Rossi focused on the baby, watching as, true to Walker's words, once the shoulders passed, the rest just followed and within a moment's time, Walker was holding a squirming, muck covered infant. His squirming, muck covered infant.

"It's a boy," Walker announced, wrapping the baby in a blanket and setting him on Lisa's stomach.

"A boy?" Lisa laughed, her arms surrounding the baby. "A boy? Damn. Now I'm going to have to live with two Rossi men!"

Rossi watched them, his child and the woman he loved, while they became acquainted. Lisa studied the baby's face, her eyes clear and triumphant, and although he knew she'd kill him, he really wished he'd brought a camera to preserve this moment.

"Dave?" Walker's voice said, pulling him from his thoughts, "Would you like to cut the cord?"

"Hell yeah," he laughed, taking the surgical scissor from the doctor's hand.

"Just cut right between the two clips," Walker instructed. "Like you're using a pair of tin snips."

"Oh, watch it there," Lisa laughed. "Tin snips? Ouch?"

"Relax, Little Girl," Rossi laughed with her, "Or I'll get out the hedge clippers."

"Just cut the damn cord, Rossi?" she said, "And get your ass up here to meet your son."

He snipped the cord and placed the scissors back into Walker's hands. "Anything else you need help with?" he joked.

"Nah, I've got the rest. Go distract her while I mess with the afterbirth," he dismissed.

"Your father thinks he's funny," Lisa said, looking down at her new son.

"Ah, stick with me, Kid," Rossi said, to the baby, "We'll run circles around your mother."

"Spare me, would ya?" she laughed.

"Ms. O'Reilly," the nurse began, "If you don't mind handing him over for a few minutes, we're just going to weigh him and clean him up."

Rossi watched as the nurse scooped the baby up from Lisa's stomach.

"Where are you taking him?" he asked, a brow raised.

"Right over there," the nurse smiled, nodding at the warming bed. "I'll bring him back just as soon as the doctor finishes with Ms. O'Reilly."

"Okay," he said, his eyes following them across the room.

"She's not going to run off with him, Dave," Lisa gently teased.

Turning his attention back to her, he bent and kissed her softly. "How are ya?"

"Sore," she decided, then, "How about you?"

He smiled broadly, "Over the moon about sums it up."

"Good," she nodded. "Enjoy this experience. It will never happen again."

He kissed her again. "I told you, my love, I won't ask."

"Good," she repeated, then, "Now, for the important part. What are we going to name him?"

The question caught him off guard. They'd only discussed girls' names and he wasn't about to name his son Emily or Ariana. No, they needed to come up with a boys' name and quickly. "I don't know, Little Girl, what do you think? You left out the blue pages of that baby name book."

"Well," she began, a soft smile on her lips, "While you were downstairs getting your coffee, I had a thought."

"You're not going to name my son "Eviscerate David Rossi"," he teased.

"After that thought," she laughed. "What would you think of Jason David Rossi?"

"Jason," he repeated.

She nodded, "My nod to Gideon. You know that without him we'd have never met in the first place. He was the one who recruited me into the BAU; he was the one who made me stay."

"He was the one who threatened to kick my ass after we broke up," he allowed. "I like it."

"Here you go, Ms. O'Reilly," the nurse said, handing her the baby. "He weighed in at 8 pounds 2 ounces and was 19 ½ inches long. He's been cleaned up and dressed. He's all yours."

"Eight pounds," she shook her head, "You're a big boy, aren't you?"

"Hey, he's my kid. What do you expect?" Rossi proudly said, studying the baby's face.