Title: Bundle Of Joy
By: Chapin CSI
Pairing: Gil/Greg
Rating: PG
Warning: I don't speak English and it shows in my stories; luckily, my readers are very forgiving. Thanks!
Summary: Gil & Greg take their relationship a step further...

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Gil Grissom glanced at his watch and then he looked outside. There was no sign of Greg yet.

He tapped his fingers on the dashboard. He was becoming impatient. He disliked staying in a car, waiting for something to happen.

He was nervous, too. His life was about to change –yet again- and he had contradictory feelings about it. He was excited about this new experience, but he dreaded it at the same time.

Greg had tried to reassure him, but Grissom was aware of his own limitations. He knew everything about raising ants and spiders and all kinds of icky worms, but this... this was completely different.

He'd try to prepare himself for the happy event, in the only way he knew: By reading everybook and article that he could get his hands on.Unfortunately,all he'd managed so far was to feel more inadequate than ever.

Grissom took a deep breath andlooked outside;he almost glanced at his watch again, but he forced himself not to. He shook his head; what he needed was a distraction, something to take his mind away if only for a little while.

He looked around, but he couldn't find anything; the radio was broken, and Greg kept no reading material in his car –nothing, except for a few fan magazines, and Grissom hated those.

Hoping to find something more challenging to read, Grissom opened the glove compartment, only to close it abruptly, so the mountain of food wrappers and Styrofoam containers that Greg had accumulated didn't spill over.

Grissom shook his head. Greg was a neat man, but there were two areas of his life that he had no control over: The fridge and the glove compartment.

Thinking of Greg made him glance outside yet again. Gil didn't like this neighborhood. He'd been there twice before and on both occasions his van had been vandalized despite the presence of the police. Greg had argued that it was precisely the police's presence that had caused all the trouble. In any case, they had decided to bring Greg's car this time. It was less conspicuous.

Fortunately, things were quiet tonight. The streets were almost deserted.

Grissom was beginning to worry, nonetheless. Greg should have returned a long time ago. "I'll be back in ten," he'd said before walking into the alley with Mrs. Tremmell, the woman who had contacted them in the first place.

That was yet another thing that Gil didn't like. The sneakiness. They should have been able to park in front of Mrs. Tremmell's house and go inside together. They were not doing anything illegal, after all. But Greg had explained the need to do things quietly, and Grissom had understood at first. Now he wasn't so sure.

His thoughts were interrupted by someone tapping on his window. A middle-aged woman was smiling tentatively at him. It was Mrs. Tremmell.

Grissom lowered his window.

"Mr. Grissom," she said, "They're coming in a minute. I... I just wanted to talk to you, alone."

Grissom opened the door and got out.

"I'm sorry we made you wait here," she said, "We're only trying to make it easier on the mother. She's been through this before, you see, and every time she hears the sound of a car parking in front of the house… Well... she knows what it means."

Grissom didn't know what to say.

"I really wanted to keep them," Mrs. Tremmell, "But I can't take care of them anymore? and even if I could, my husband wouldn't let me. Not that I blame him," she said quickly, "This wasn't supposed to happen, in the first place; it was an accident. I should have done something to prevent it, but..."

She faltered a little, and Grissom looked down. Emotional displays were sometimes embarrassing to him.

"… My husband told me I could keep only one," Mrs. Tremmell added, "And I had to decide, and, well… It's just like he's always said: Girls are too much trouble in the long run -" she looked up sharply, as if to gauge the effect of her words on him.

Grissom's expression was guarded. He would not judge her.

She took a deep breath and then she looked earnestly at him, "You'll take care of her, won't you?"

"We will." He said gently.

"Watch over her-"

"Of course."

"See that she grows in the best of health-"

Grissom nodded, but the truth was, he still didn't know if he could really bear the responsibility.

"Mr. Sanders was so understanding when I told him-" Mrs. Tremmell said, interrupting his thoughts.

Ah, yes. And once she told him, Greg set his mind and his heart on the adoption. Gil put up a few objections, but didn't have the heart to say no -not even when Greg pointed out that Gil was the one who had all that available space in his home.

"I'm sure you're be good to her," Mrs. Tremmell said, then. "You're a gentle man, I can tell."

Gil looked down.

"I'll try to do my best." He said. "But I've never done anything like this, and -"

"And you're afraid."

Grissom nodded reluctantly.

She smiled and patted his arm.

"Me, I'm more afraid of people who are too sure of themselves," she said knowingly.

Just then, Greg reappeared. He was carrying a small bundle wrapped in a pink blanket, and he was smiling from ear to ear.

He walked up to Mrs. Tremmell and hugged her with his free arm.

"Don't worry, Marcy." He said good-naturedly, "We'll take care of her."

"Thank you..." she said, "Thank you..."

Tears were rolling down her cheeks as she walked away.

Smiling mischievously, Greg turned to Grissom.

"You wanna hold her?" he asked.

"Not yet." Gil muttered evasively.

"Well, I'm driving." Greg said, offering the bundle to Grissom, forcing him to take it. "Be gentle." He admonished, before opening the passenger door for him.

Grissom carefully got in and held the bundle a little away from him.

Greg closed the door and then he walked to the driver's side.

He looked at Grissom before getting in.

"You look good, daddy."

"Daddy?" Grissom repeated. The bundle shifted in his hands and Gil had to hold it closer to him.

"Is she awake?" Greg asked.

"I don't know," Grissom said. He lifted a corner of the blanket and peered underneath.

Brown eyes blinked and peered back.

"Well?" Greg asked.

"She's awake," Grissom whispered. He had expected her to start crying at the mere sight of him but she didn't. Instead, she only looked at him as if… As if she trusted him.

Without thinking, Gil reached and delicately touched one perfect ear.

She yawned.

Grissom would remember afterwards how he fell in love for the second time in his life.

"What about her name?" he asked, without looking up.

"We could call her Sam -" Greg said tentatively, "Petula -"

"Petula?"Grissom frowned.

"Hey, it was just a suggestion. If I leave it to you, you'll call her Ophelia or Climmenestra -"

"We'll call her Truddie," Gil said firmly.

"After Hamlet's mom, I suppose." Greg muttered to himself. "But I think it suits her," he added. He glanced at Grissom, "Are you happy, Gilbear?"

Gil met his gaze.

"Yes." He said honestly. "I am happy."

Greg smiled and then he turned on the ignition. They needed to take Truddie to her new home.

Gil carefully put the covers back. Puppies needed their sleep after all.

THE END

Ah, what can I say? I'm sappy when it comes to dogs.

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