He reaches over, and squeezes her hand as a look of panic washes over her. The nurse begins to prepare the room, and quickly pages the doctor. Gibbs scoots closer to her. He presses his lips to her forehead. She turns her head to look at him, uncertain of what to say. He chooses to supply the words.
"Everything is going to be okay," he insists.
"I'm not ready for this. Nothing is ready. There isn't even a crib in the baby's room yet."
"I'll take care of it."
"I don't have half of the clothes washed. We don't have a named picked out."
"Calm down, everything is going to be okay."
"What if it's not? What if the not ready?"
"The baby will be fine."
"What if he's not? What if his lungs aren't mature enough? What if there are complications, and…"
Gibbs furrows his brow, "What did you just say?"
"About what?"
"You used the pronoun he," he points out.
"And?"
"Why?"
She grins, "It is the appropriate pronoun."
"What are you saying?"
"We're about to have a son," she admits.
"A son?" He considers the idea.
She begins having another contraction. The doctor enters the room, and proceeds to wash his hands. Mac grips Jethro's hand as her uterus contracts. The nurse removes a portion of the bed. The doctor dons a gown, and gloves, and approaches the bed. A few other personnel enter the room. One staff member grabs a leg. The nurse instructs Gibbs to do the same. The physician instructs Sarah to push on the next contraction. Sarah's forehead is drenched in sweat, and her face is beet red as she pushes. After a couple of pushes Jethro can see a headful of dark, matted hair. After a few more pushes the baby is completely delivered. For a second the entire room is silent, waiting for the newborn to take his first breath. Jethro's heart skips a beat. The nurse suctions the baby's airway, and he begins to turn from grey to pink. His faces scrunches, and his forehead wrinkles as he lets out a whimper. The whimper quickly progresses to a wail. He is placed on Sarah's chest. Someone hands Gibbs a pair of scissors to cut the cord.
They both stare at the newborn with a sense of awe. He snaps a picture, and watches the nurse carries the newborn over to the warming tray. They proceed to weigh, and measure the wailing infant. He snaps another picture, and a bracelet is placed on his wrist. He watches as they whisk the baby out of the room. He takes a moment to compose himself, and then returns to Mac's side.
"He's perfect," he admits.
Two hours later the room is clear of medical personnel. Sarah has just drifted off to sleep. Gibbs paces the room, anxiously awaiting news on how the baby is doing. A knock on the door jolts him back into reality. He looks up, and finds a nurse entering the room. He sighs in relief when he notices the bassinet she's pushing. She checks his ID band.
"He needed a little bit of supplemental oxygen, but he's breathing on his own now."
Gibbs nods, and the nurse gets the hint, she turns, and leaves the room. He lifts the newborn baby from the bassinet. He carries him across the room, settling into a chair with him. He stares at the tiny newborn baby boy. The little guy's eyes are wide open, searching the room. He vigorously sucks his pacifier. He hears someone clear their throat. He turns to his left, and finds Sarah staring him down.
"Yes?"
"Can I have him now?"
"Yes," he nods, handing him to her.
"Hi, handsome," she smiles.
"He looks hungry."
"Okay," she nods, "We should talk about what we're going to call him."
"We can call him whatever you want."
"You don't care?"
"You can pick."
"You're certain? I just figured that you would want to name him."
"I trust you judgement," he admits.
"What if I said I wanted to name him Milton Herman?" She responds, coming up with the most ridiculous combination she can think of.
"My name is Leroy Jethro," he points out.
"Why don't you pick out the middle name?"
"What is his first name?" He questions.
"You go first," she insists.
"Todd," he answers.
"After Kate?"
He furrows his brow, "I never told you about that."
"It was all over the news, and I heard about it."
"Is that okay with you?"
"I think that it is perfect."
"So what is his first name?" He questions as he stares at the bald newborn with slate colored eyes.
"Jackson," she answers.
"Where did you come up with that?"
"I just like the name," she stretches the truth.
"Really?" He cocks an eyebrow.
"It was on the top three list to begin with. The other day when you were in the shower, and Abby called I answered your phone."
"I thought she told you that she had information on a case."
"We talked for a couple of minutes," she admits, "And she mentioned that she wished your father, Jackson was still around so he could see the baby."
"Are you sure about this? You don't have to name him that."
"It was either that, or Javier," she jokes.
He shakes his head, "I guess he does look like a little old man, so it fits."
Her legs are stretched out in front of her. She places the newborn on her legs. He continues to suck at his pacifier, until she removes it. He puckers his lips in protest.
"Those are definitely your lips," he comments.
"He's got your ears," she points out.
"And your nose."
She grins, peeling his cap off his head, "And no hair."
"It will probably come in gray, since we're both geriatric," he teases.
"Speak for yourself."
Jackson finds his fingers, and shoves them in his mouth.
"Five pounds two ounces, we should feed him, so he gets some meat on his bones," Gibbs suggests, "I think that there was a bottle in the basinet," he tells her as he moves towards the basinet. He opens a drawer, and finds diapers. He opens another drawer and finds blankets. He looks inside the basinet, and finds a bottle. He grabs the bottle, and turns towards her, "Found it."
She makes eye contact with him, "I've got it covered."