AN/: After nearly 16K words, this story is finally finished :) I'm sorry that you had to wait this long for the last chapter, but the story just wasn't agreeing with me. I had to shift around a few things in there, and in the second part of this last chapter there is even a change in the focal character – but I hope you guys won't mind it :)

Part VII

They got a couple of minutes together, the three of them, but then it was time for bathing and examinations and measuring for the baby, and delivering the placenta for Skye, so the new family got separated, with Grant going with Jemma to tend to the baby, and Dr. Hartland remaining there with Skye.

(His daughter was born on June 1, 2015, at 8:37 a.m., weighing seven pounds and seven ounces, measuring twenty-one inches, and, according to Jemma, being completely perfect both in the medical and colloquial sense of the word.)

It wasn't until a nearly an hour later – the baby dressed up, sheets changed, Skye through a quick shower – that they finally got some peace.

It was kind of strange, surreal almost – sitting there on the edge of the mattress next to Skye, looking down at his newborn daughter in her mother's arms; he just couldn't completely comprehend how something so small and perfect and incredible could exist anywhere in this universe, let alone in the same room as him.

She really was a beautiful baby – or it's just that he was terribly biased –, with round, pink cheeks and lips like a tiny rosebud, and a tiny, button nose, and short – but rather thick, at least for a newborn –, dark hair. And it might have been crazy and way too soon, but he could have sworn he could already see Skye and himself in the little girl – Skye in the shape of her ear and the slant of her eyes and the arch of her barely-there eyebrow, while he was there in her cheekbones, and maybe in the shape of her nose, and the fairness of her skin; the dark hair could have come from either of them, and it was too early to tell the color of her eyes – they were still newborn-blue, and would be for a couple of weeks or months, before her irises turned either to his whisky-colored eyes, or Skye's dark chocolate orbs.

Wrapped up in a soft, white blanket – a gift from May –, with a tiny, pink hat on her head – sent straight from Scotland, knitted by Fitz's mom –, his daughter was dozing peacefully in her mother's arms, unaware of the amazed, loving look Skye was giving her.

Skye herself was radiant – glowing and beaming in spite of her apparent exhaustion. Grant doubted she'd stopped smiling for a moment since the baby had been born. But he could see the deep lines of exhaustion on her face and the slugginess of her movements, and knew that no matter how amazed she was by their baby, she needed her rest.

But, first of all, there was pressing matter that needed to be addressed.

"You know, we said we'd choose her–"

"Haylie," Skye said, not even waiting for him to finish the sentence or looking at him. "Let's call her Haylie."

Grant blinked.

"Haylie?"

"Yeah," Skye shrugged, shifting the baby a bit so she could look at him. "She looks like a Haylie, doesn't she?"

Grant blinked again, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Haylie wasn't on their short list of names – actually, he doubted they'd even brought it up when they were looking for names. But… he actually liked it (at least, it was sure better than Antoinette and Cordelia). Haylie Ward. He liked the sound of that; it had a nice lilt. Haylie Ward.

"Alright," he said, reaching down and brushing a fingertip along the baby's – Haylie's – little fist. "It's a beautiful name. Let's call her Haylie." He leaned down and kissed the top pf Skye's head. "And what about Grace for middle name?" Again, it was a name that they had somehow never discussed, but he suddenly remembered it.

Skye smiled widely at him.

"Haylie Grace Ward," she said softly. "I like that."

Grant was just about to answer that – either verbally or non-verbally, he wasn't sure –, when there was a soft knock on the door.

"Hey, guys," stepped Jemma into the room almost tentatively, a small smile on her lips. "I know you need rest, peace and quiet, but the others are getting a little impatient, so… are you up for visitors?"

Grant was just about to object – the team could honestly wait a couple of hours until Skye had some rest –, but Skye was quicker than him.

"Just one," she said, shifting Haylie in her arms once again. "Could you send in Fitz, please?"

Fitz didn't sleep for a moment the whole night – even when exhaustion was dragging him down, anxiousness was keeping him up. Because could a birth really drag on this long? Or had something gone wrong? Should he go and check?

In the end, he stayed in the lounge, biting his nails and trying not to get too worked up.

Around seven a.m., the base was starting to wake up – people started milling around the lounge, making breakfast and brewing coffee, talking in hushed tones, as if they were afraid of disturbing someone. The tension was almost palpable.

As the day started, Fitz tried being productive, he really did – he brought up some schematics on his tablet, trying to solve a problem he had been stuck on before, but he made absolutely no progress (especially with glancing at the clock every five minutes).

It wasn't until just after quarter to nine when something finally happened.

He was just about give up the whole working-thing and have another coffee, when he heard quick footsteps approaching from the direction of the corridor which led towards the lab and the med bay – and, subsequently, the delivery room. He raised his head in an instant, and his gaze locked with Jemma's immediately; she was beaming.

"The baby's been born," she announced, her voice a little too loud and her words a little too fast in her excitement. "She is beautiful, and both her and Skye are doing just great."

To be honest, the next couple of moments were kind of a blur for Fitz – there was some triumphant shouting (most likely from Hunter), and he remembered hearing Trip say that he was going to open the champagne (Fitz didn't even know that they had champagne), and then he was hugging Jemma, while he could hear the buzz of Mack and Bobbi asking for details.

"Nothing much else to tell yet – and really, I have to go back now, I'll let you know when they are ready to have visitors." And with that, Jemma turned around, and returned to the delivery room in a quick pace.

For the first time in sixteen hours, Fitz let out a relieved sigh.

They were okay.

And with that thought, he all but collapsed on the couch, and promptly fell asleep.

It felt like as if he had just closed his eyes when he woke to somebody touching his shoulder. His eyes flying open, he jumped a little, still half-sitting, half-lying on the couch, but then relaxed right away when he saw Jemma's smiling face above him.

"They want to see you," she told him, to which Fitz blinked.

"What?"

"Skye and Grant – they asked me to tell you to go and see them," Jemma clarified.

Fitz shook his head to clear his thoughts, then glanced at the clock on the wall – alright, so more than an hour had passed (which meant that he hadn't simply just closed his eyes for a moment or two as he'd thought).

"Of course, of course," he nodded, standing up – stumbling a little –, and starting to walk towards the corridor, hearing Jemma's delighted chuckle coming from behind his back.

He stopped in front of the delivery room's door – it was slightly ajar, as if to invite him in, but was he really supposed to bother them? He raised his hand to knock, but then hesitated, his hand hovering in the air, his fist barely an inch from the door. Maybe he should just go back, and let them rest – but then again, Jemma said they wanted to see him, so…

"Fitz!" he heard Skye's slightly hoarse voice from inside. "I can hear you. Come in already!"

The corners of his mouth pulling into a smile, Fitz pushed the door open.

They were there, Grant and Skye, the new dad perched on the edge of the mattress, a silly grin on his face, and Skye sitting in bed, propped up by pillows, looking like… well, like hell warmed over, but smiling happily. And in her arms, there was the source of all the excitement of the night – a tiny bundle wrapped up in white.

"Nice of you to finally join us," Skye said teasingly, making Grant chuckle, as Fitz slowly made his way towards them, pulling over a chair to sit on her other side. "We wanted you to meet somebody to you," she continued, stealing a glance at Grant. "Uncle Fitzy, please, let me introduce Haylie Grace Ward," she finished, handing him the baby.

Fitz tried to protest, he really did – he'd been a teenager when he had last held a baby, and he wasn't going to drop or… or squeeze or hurt Skye and Grant's baby in any other way now, but before he could have made a reasonable argument against taking the baby into his arms, she was already there, her head nestled safely in the crook of his arm, the soft blanket pressed against his chest.

She – Haylie, he reminded himself – had been dozing lightly until then, but being transferred from one person to another roused her. For a moment Fitz was sure she was going to cry – she was being handled by a complete stranger instead of her mother, so Fitz would have totally understood if she would have started bawling, demanding to be handed back to Skye –, but she simply opened her eyes and blinked at him, slightly confused, but interested, and then yawned, opening her tiny mouth wide, while flexing her – incredibly small – hands.

Fitz let out a small, amazed chuckle.

"You were the last one to learn about her," Skye continued softly, leaning back against her pillows and taking Grant's hand. "So I thought it'd be appropriate if you met her first from the team."

Tearing his gaze away from the baby, who was now closing her eyes again and gripping the blanket, Fitz raised his head, and looked at Skye and Grant.

"Thank you, it's, ah…" he paused, overtaken by his emotions and not really knowing what to say. "Thank you. She is…" he looked down again at Haylie, blinking. "She is perfect. Congratulations," he finished, wiping a stray tear away from the corner of his eye with one hand, and devoting his full attention to Haylie once again.

He was already thinking about all the great adventures they'd have together – sneaking her ice-cream before dinner, and taking her to the zoo, and teaching her about science, and… And being Uncle Fitz. To be honest, he was really looking forward to that.

Grinning and pushing a finger into Haylie's tiny hand so she could grip it, he could just barely hear Skye whisper to Grant.

"I told you he was going to cry. Pay up, Robot."