iluvroadrunner
Pathologist
thanks, you too!
***CSI Vegas Fanfiction Challenge***
- Thread starter sissi59100
- Start date
- Status
LittleMissSnark
Prime Suspect
Okay okay okay....I've slacked off enough, hopefully you'll get this soon, sissi , but I might just edge within the deadline if that's okay.
It's all in my mind still...now if only I can get it to paper!
It's all in my mind still...now if only I can get it to paper!
iluvroadrunner
Pathologist
just wanted to check in and see if you got mine. i pm'd it to you yesterday. if not i'll just send it again.
sissi59100
CSI Level Three
well littlemissnark: i'm gonna give you more time, i'm gonna start posting the slash stories so you will have more time 
iluveroadrunner: i get your story no problem i'm gonna post them soon so people will be able to read and vote
iluveroadrunner: i get your story
no problem i'm gonna post them soon so people will be able to read and vote iluvroadrunner
Pathologist
awesome. thanks.
LittleMissSnark
Prime Suspect
sissi59100 said:
well littlemissnark: i'm gonna give you more time, i'm gonna start posting the slash stories so you will have more time
I LOVE YOU!
I'm so sorry about this! But I promise I'll get it to you as soon as I can!
sissi59100
CSI Level Three
you are welcome Emily
and littlemmiss, don't be sorry, it's a pleasure, i can't wait to read yours
and littlemmiss, don't be sorry, it's a pleasure, i can't wait to read yours
LittleMissSnark
Prime Suspect
Thanks! I sent it!
CSI_in_training
CSI Level Two
So dawns the deadline! Glad you got your story in Emily, may the best story win
CSI_in_training
CSI Level Two
yeah! when are they getting posted, I want to read the rest of the submissions!!
sissi59100
CSI Level Three
sorry people i took time but now i'm gonna post the slash stories first: you will post and vote for your favourite one, what i'm asking you, please, is that you leave a comment for your favourite story (why you like it etc ) i'm sure the winner will love that
*** SLASH STORIES ***
One Happy Family by CSI_in_training
PAIRINGS: Nick/Sara OR Nick/Greg
SYNOPSIS: one of them find a basket in front of their doors: there is a baby and a note "please take care of her (him)”
Greg was going to be late for work for the third time in four days. And the way things were going, he was running almost an hour behind schedule. He ran a brush though his fly away hair making it at least look like he’d done something with it. He’d fix it when he got to work. He made some toast and was bolting out the door when he saw it. Something that would change the young lab tech’s life forever. It was a basket, sitting on the step leading up to his little house, with a blanket draped over it. He pulled the blanket down and saw what was inside, a small baby lay there, fast asleep. Greg smiled a little half smile. There was a note too, so he picked it up and read it.
“I’m sorry to ask this of you when I’ve never met you. But can you please take care of him?” Despite the fact that it was phrased like a question, Greg didn’t see how he had any choice. He didn’t mind though, secretly he’d always wanted a baby. He picked up the basket and brought it inside, placing it on the couch. He looked at the sleeping boy inside and then realized he was in no position to take care of a child. He was late for work; he had no baby stuff, except the baby cloths that his mom had given him, and he was a single guy. Greg ran his fingers through his hair; he was going to need serious help for this.
“First things First,” he said to the empty apartment, “I need to call Grissom.” He was half way to the phone when he realized how much of a bad idea that was. “Grissom won’t understand, it’s always science first with him…Oh god.” Greg started pacing, wondering why they hadn’t phone him yet since he was-he checked his watch-half and hour late. As if on cue, the phone rang and Greg grabbed it quickly so it only rang once. “Sanders,” he said.
“Greg?” Came a voice on the other line, it was Nick.
“No, it’s the other Sanders that lives at this house. What’d you want, Nick?”
“Whoa. Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed. I just want to make sure you’re alright, G. You didn’t show up for work yet and I got you on the home line. What’s up?”
“Sorry, I slept in and then…” He debated telling Nick about the new arrival. They’d been friends for a long time, sometimes Greg felt closer to Nick then anyone, and less like a friend and more like-no. He wouldn’t think about that, it had gotten him in trouble once before. Nick was a friend, nothing more nothing less.
“Then what?” asked Nick, breaking Greg’s train of thought. Greg shook his head.
“Nothing. It’s okay. Can you tell Gris I’m not coming in today. I don’t feel well and I don’t want to contaminate evidence with my cold bug.”
“You don’t sound like you have a cold,” teased Nick.
“Well I do. Cough cough. Can you come over after work?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure. You sure you’re alright?” Nick was genuinely concerned for his friend, who never missed work unless he absolutely had to.
“I’m fine, Nick. Just got a cold.”
“Yeah, right. I’ll see you later.” Greg hung up the phone and looked at the basket on his couch. He looked at it for a moment then made a decision. His neighbour, Lacy Thomas, had a couple kids, maybe she could help him out a little. He thought about turning to Catherine, but Lacy was closer, and not working. He grabbed the basket and headed next door. He knocked on the door, it was late so the kids would be in bed, but Lacy was a bit of a night owl. She answered the door in blue jeans and a white t-shirt. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She was about thirty and had two kids, two and four. Lacy looked at Greg for a moment, then at the basket in his hands. She wasn’t sure what he wanted.
“To what do I owe to pleasure, Mr. Sanders? I don’t see you often since you’re always working. And with a baby? Didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”
“I don’t. He was left on my step sometime this evening.”
“I’m not takin’ him off you’re hands, I got enough kids of my own.”
“No, I was just wondering, if…you could give me a hand?”
“I see. What do you need?”
“Can I come in?”
“Sure.” She opened the door and Greg walked in, placing the basket on the couch.
“The necessities, except cloths. I have lots of those.”
“So, crib, dipper bag, dippers, formula, bottles, ect.?”
“Um…yeah. And a bit of advice.”
“I can get you all that. Except the formula and dippers, you’ll have to get them yourself.”
“Thanks.”
“You thought of a name yet? Or did he come with one?” Greg felt slightly sheepish. He hadn’t thought of a name. Lacy saw that and smiled.
“It’s okay. You can think of that later, but don’t get into the habit of calling him baby or he’ll think that’s his name.”
“Alright, I’ll think of something. Do you need any help getting the stuff? I can-”
“The crib is in the back closet. Can you grab that? I’ll get the rest.”
“Sure.” Greg stood up and headed to the back closet. Two hours later, everything was set up in his house, his computer room had been transformed. He’d moved the computer, the only thing in the room, to the table in the kitchen so he could use the computer desk for the baby stuff. The drawers were filled with cloths and the desk part became a temporary change table. Lacy promised to show Greg what to do when the baby woke up. By the time Lacy left, Greg had thought of a name.
“I think I thought of a name,” he said as she was leaving.
“Yeah? What’s that.”
“Jason. Jason Sanders.” Lacy smiled, obviously tired.
“That’s a beautiful name. Call me if you need anything.”
“I will. I promise.” Greg climbed into bed. Lacy had run out while he was moving stuff around and bought a small thing of formula and a thing of dippers from an all night grocery store. The formula was in the fridge and instructions on what to do when Jason woke up were pinned to a cupboard. Greg didn’t think he’d get to sleep, he was supposed to be working, but he did doze off for an hour before Jason woke up the first time. Greg turned out to be a pretty good mom. Making formula and all that wasn’t so hard. Then he fell asleep with Jason on the couch. Jason woke up twice before Nick showed up the next morning and let himself in. He was stunned when he saw Greg asleep on the couch, with a baby in his arms. Nick went numb. Maybe Greg did have a girlfriend, maybe that girlfriend had had a baby and that’s why-No. Greg would’ve told them, he would have told Nick. Careful not to wake the baby he walked over and put a hand on Greg’s shoulder and shook him gently.
“Greg. Greg. Wake up.” Greg opened his eyes slowly and looked up at Nick with a smile.
“Nice to see ya, Nick.”
“This why you couldn’t come to work?”
“Yeah. Someone left him on my front step.”
“What’s his name?”
“Jason.”
“Nice. What do you need?”
“Right now? I need coffee. In a minute and for the next eighteen or so year? I need someone to help me.”
“What about-”
“Catherine? Sara? The lady next door? They’ll help too, but I need someone to lean on.”
“Like a friend?”
“Like you, Nick. I need a friend, I need a…” Greg trailed off, looking at the small boy lying on his chest. Nick nodded. He understood. Greg needed someone to love. Nick was probably the only one who knew that Greg wasn’t really the playboy he claimed to be and that all the ‘girlfriends’ were just ways of hiding.
“I understand,” he said, sitting on Greg’s coffee table.
“Really?” he asked, there was a glimmer of hope in his voice and a small tear in his eye.
“Yeah. You need someone.”
“Someone like…you?” he asked.
“Yeah. I can do that for you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Really.” Nick leaned in a planted a small kiss on Greg’s forehead. Then he looked down at the two. He gave Greg one of his most charming smiles before grabbing his camera and taking a couple pictures of the two.
“Hey, don’t wake the baby,” said Greg.
“Yes, Mom.”
“Don’t you ‘mom’ me, Mr. Stokes. I expect you to take care of him too. I’ll be mom, you be dad, and we’ll be a family,” said Greg before he could really think about what he just said. Nick laughed.
“Got it. Mom, Dad and Baby Jason. One happy family.”
“One happy family.”
*** SLASH STORIES ***
One Happy Family by CSI_in_training
PAIRINGS: Nick/Sara OR Nick/Greg
SYNOPSIS: one of them find a basket in front of their doors: there is a baby and a note "please take care of her (him)”
Greg was going to be late for work for the third time in four days. And the way things were going, he was running almost an hour behind schedule. He ran a brush though his fly away hair making it at least look like he’d done something with it. He’d fix it when he got to work. He made some toast and was bolting out the door when he saw it. Something that would change the young lab tech’s life forever. It was a basket, sitting on the step leading up to his little house, with a blanket draped over it. He pulled the blanket down and saw what was inside, a small baby lay there, fast asleep. Greg smiled a little half smile. There was a note too, so he picked it up and read it.
“I’m sorry to ask this of you when I’ve never met you. But can you please take care of him?” Despite the fact that it was phrased like a question, Greg didn’t see how he had any choice. He didn’t mind though, secretly he’d always wanted a baby. He picked up the basket and brought it inside, placing it on the couch. He looked at the sleeping boy inside and then realized he was in no position to take care of a child. He was late for work; he had no baby stuff, except the baby cloths that his mom had given him, and he was a single guy. Greg ran his fingers through his hair; he was going to need serious help for this.
“First things First,” he said to the empty apartment, “I need to call Grissom.” He was half way to the phone when he realized how much of a bad idea that was. “Grissom won’t understand, it’s always science first with him…Oh god.” Greg started pacing, wondering why they hadn’t phone him yet since he was-he checked his watch-half and hour late. As if on cue, the phone rang and Greg grabbed it quickly so it only rang once. “Sanders,” he said.
“Greg?” Came a voice on the other line, it was Nick.
“No, it’s the other Sanders that lives at this house. What’d you want, Nick?”
“Whoa. Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed. I just want to make sure you’re alright, G. You didn’t show up for work yet and I got you on the home line. What’s up?”
“Sorry, I slept in and then…” He debated telling Nick about the new arrival. They’d been friends for a long time, sometimes Greg felt closer to Nick then anyone, and less like a friend and more like-no. He wouldn’t think about that, it had gotten him in trouble once before. Nick was a friend, nothing more nothing less.
“Then what?” asked Nick, breaking Greg’s train of thought. Greg shook his head.
“Nothing. It’s okay. Can you tell Gris I’m not coming in today. I don’t feel well and I don’t want to contaminate evidence with my cold bug.”
“You don’t sound like you have a cold,” teased Nick.
“Well I do. Cough cough. Can you come over after work?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure. You sure you’re alright?” Nick was genuinely concerned for his friend, who never missed work unless he absolutely had to.
“I’m fine, Nick. Just got a cold.”
“Yeah, right. I’ll see you later.” Greg hung up the phone and looked at the basket on his couch. He looked at it for a moment then made a decision. His neighbour, Lacy Thomas, had a couple kids, maybe she could help him out a little. He thought about turning to Catherine, but Lacy was closer, and not working. He grabbed the basket and headed next door. He knocked on the door, it was late so the kids would be in bed, but Lacy was a bit of a night owl. She answered the door in blue jeans and a white t-shirt. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She was about thirty and had two kids, two and four. Lacy looked at Greg for a moment, then at the basket in his hands. She wasn’t sure what he wanted.
“To what do I owe to pleasure, Mr. Sanders? I don’t see you often since you’re always working. And with a baby? Didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”
“I don’t. He was left on my step sometime this evening.”
“I’m not takin’ him off you’re hands, I got enough kids of my own.”
“No, I was just wondering, if…you could give me a hand?”
“I see. What do you need?”
“Can I come in?”
“Sure.” She opened the door and Greg walked in, placing the basket on the couch.
“The necessities, except cloths. I have lots of those.”
“So, crib, dipper bag, dippers, formula, bottles, ect.?”
“Um…yeah. And a bit of advice.”
“I can get you all that. Except the formula and dippers, you’ll have to get them yourself.”
“Thanks.”
“You thought of a name yet? Or did he come with one?” Greg felt slightly sheepish. He hadn’t thought of a name. Lacy saw that and smiled.
“It’s okay. You can think of that later, but don’t get into the habit of calling him baby or he’ll think that’s his name.”
“Alright, I’ll think of something. Do you need any help getting the stuff? I can-”
“The crib is in the back closet. Can you grab that? I’ll get the rest.”
“Sure.” Greg stood up and headed to the back closet. Two hours later, everything was set up in his house, his computer room had been transformed. He’d moved the computer, the only thing in the room, to the table in the kitchen so he could use the computer desk for the baby stuff. The drawers were filled with cloths and the desk part became a temporary change table. Lacy promised to show Greg what to do when the baby woke up. By the time Lacy left, Greg had thought of a name.
“I think I thought of a name,” he said as she was leaving.
“Yeah? What’s that.”
“Jason. Jason Sanders.” Lacy smiled, obviously tired.
“That’s a beautiful name. Call me if you need anything.”
“I will. I promise.” Greg climbed into bed. Lacy had run out while he was moving stuff around and bought a small thing of formula and a thing of dippers from an all night grocery store. The formula was in the fridge and instructions on what to do when Jason woke up were pinned to a cupboard. Greg didn’t think he’d get to sleep, he was supposed to be working, but he did doze off for an hour before Jason woke up the first time. Greg turned out to be a pretty good mom. Making formula and all that wasn’t so hard. Then he fell asleep with Jason on the couch. Jason woke up twice before Nick showed up the next morning and let himself in. He was stunned when he saw Greg asleep on the couch, with a baby in his arms. Nick went numb. Maybe Greg did have a girlfriend, maybe that girlfriend had had a baby and that’s why-No. Greg would’ve told them, he would have told Nick. Careful not to wake the baby he walked over and put a hand on Greg’s shoulder and shook him gently.
“Greg. Greg. Wake up.” Greg opened his eyes slowly and looked up at Nick with a smile.
“Nice to see ya, Nick.”
“This why you couldn’t come to work?”
“Yeah. Someone left him on my front step.”
“What’s his name?”
“Jason.”
“Nice. What do you need?”
“Right now? I need coffee. In a minute and for the next eighteen or so year? I need someone to help me.”
“What about-”
“Catherine? Sara? The lady next door? They’ll help too, but I need someone to lean on.”
“Like a friend?”
“Like you, Nick. I need a friend, I need a…” Greg trailed off, looking at the small boy lying on his chest. Nick nodded. He understood. Greg needed someone to love. Nick was probably the only one who knew that Greg wasn’t really the playboy he claimed to be and that all the ‘girlfriends’ were just ways of hiding.
“I understand,” he said, sitting on Greg’s coffee table.
“Really?” he asked, there was a glimmer of hope in his voice and a small tear in his eye.
“Yeah. You need someone.”
“Someone like…you?” he asked.
“Yeah. I can do that for you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Really.” Nick leaned in a planted a small kiss on Greg’s forehead. Then he looked down at the two. He gave Greg one of his most charming smiles before grabbing his camera and taking a couple pictures of the two.
“Hey, don’t wake the baby,” said Greg.
“Yes, Mom.”
“Don’t you ‘mom’ me, Mr. Stokes. I expect you to take care of him too. I’ll be mom, you be dad, and we’ll be a family,” said Greg before he could really think about what he just said. Nick laughed.
“Got it. Mom, Dad and Baby Jason. One happy family.”
“One happy family.”
sissi59100
CSI Level Three
*** SLASH STORIES ****
“Baby in a Basket” by Iluvroadrunner
Greg Sanders stretched lazily as he came out of his deep sleep. Another beautiful afternoon in Las Vegas, he thought lazily as he rolled over. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the babies are crying—babies are crying?
His eyes flew open with a start as he recognized the sound coming from outside the front door. However, he also wasn’t awake enough to comprehend that he wasn’t, at home, in his apartment, in bed. He tried to catch himself in time, but he couldn’t stop himself from tumbling off the couch he had been sleeping on and onto the hardwood floor beneath him.
“Ooow,” he moaned softly, now fully awake and remembering where he was. He had just finished working non-stop for two days on a case, with barely any sleep, and Nick had refused to let him drive home in his condition. But then, Greg was too out of it to give the man decent directions, so Nick decided just to let the younger CSI crash on his couch.
However, the new wake up call did nothing to erase the screaming wailing sound that was clearly a baby. Meaning there definitely was a baby crying somewhere. Greg slowly pushed himself to his feet, before heading in the direction of the offensive noise, finding himself right at Nick’s front door. He unlocked the deadbolt, and opened it. He saw no one there, but the noise was definitely the loudest at this particular point. He then decided to look down.
Sitting at his feet, there was a basket with a baby wrapped in it. You’ve got to be kidding me, he thought to himself, This kind of stuff only happens in movies. He continued to stare down at the screaming child until he heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs behind him.
“Morning, Greg,” Nick Stokes mumbled, obviously still half-asleep as he stumbled towards the bathroom.
“Nick?”
“Yeah, Greggo?” he shouted as the bathroom door shut behind him.
“There’s a baby on your porch.”
“That’s nice—” Nick began, before he cut himself off, and poked his head back out the door, “There’s a what on my porch!?!?!”
“A baby,” Greg repeated, before hearing the man walk up next to him, and look down. All this time, the baby had continued to scream.
“Maybe we should take it inside—?” Greg began, and Nick nodded.
“Yeah, maybe we should do that—”
***
Moving the baby inside the house did nothing to dispel the screams of the child. The two men continued to stare at it like it was a foreign object of some kind, and they both had no idea what to do with it. Nick’s eyes wandered to the bag attached to the side of the basket, and spotted a note sticking out of the top.
I’m sorry, but I didn’t know what else to do. Please take care of him.
“I thought crap like this only happened in the movies,” Nick muttered before spotting a bottle under the note. “Maybe he’s hungry,” he whispered, before pulling out the bottle, and sticking it towards the baby’s wailing mouth. The baby quieted momentarily and wrinkled its nose, before twisting its head away from the offending object. Nick tried to follow the baby’s mouth with it, convinced that it was what the child wanted. The baby only twisted his head in the opposite direction, before continuing to wail some more.
“Didn’t work, Nick,” Greg sighed from his post next to the other man.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Nick hissed. The outburst of foul language only caused the child to cry more, and Greg shot the older man a look.
“Look now, you’ve upset poor Turnip Head!”
“Turnip Head!” Nick shouted, “You named him!”
“Well, we couldn’t keep calling him ‘it’ could we?” Greg replied, hands on his hips, “And his head is somewhat turnip-shaped and I just figured—”
“Never mind,” Nick sighed, “OK, why else do these kids cry?”
“Don’t you know?” Greg frowned.
“Why the hell would I know?”
“Because you’re the baby of seven. You probably have seventeen million nieces and nephews that you’ve probably taken care of over the years, and I just thought—”
“They live in Texas. I live in Vegas. When do I get to see them?”
“OK, point,” Greg sighed, before staring back down at the helpless child, “Don’t they usually cry when they—you know—make a deposit?”
“What?”
“You know,” Greg frowned, “—poop.”
Nick jumped back from the table, “You do it!”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“I tried to feed it—him,” Nick replied, “You check the diaper.”
“Fine,” Greg sighed before sitting the baby up slightly. He hesitated for a second, eyes pinched tightly closed, “Does this count as child molestation if he’s not yours?”
“No!” Nick sighed, fighting the urge to smack the man upside the head when he had a crying child in his arms, “Just do it!” Greg cringed before glancing down the diaper and then looking back up again, eyes still closed tightly. “Not the diaper.”
And poor little Turnip Head continued to cry.
“Well what’s wrong with him?” Nick sighed, continuing to lose his patience with the child. And Greg.
“I don’t know,” Greg sighed, “Wait a minute. Catherine had a baby.”
“Good!” Nick sighed, dashing for the phone, “I’ll call Catherine. You—play a game with him or something.”
“AAAAAAHHHHHH!”
“It’s OK, it’s OK. Uncle Greggo’s here,” Greg sighed, “You wanna play Peek-a-Boo, little Turnip Head? Huh?”
“AAAAAAHHHHHH!”
“Alright here, we go. Where’s the baby?” Greg said as he covered his eyes, “There he is!” As his face popped out from behind his hands, and he made the stupidest face he could. The baby calmed down for all of two seconds, enough to give Greg a look of utter confusion. Then he started to scream again.
“—Yes, Catherine, a baby,” Nick sighed as he came into the room, a phone to his ear, “—Do I look like I know how it got there?—Look, I just want to shut the damn kid up, alright?”
“Have you tried just holding the baby?” Catherine replied, the amusement of these two particular men trying to take care of a baby clearly evident in her voice.
“Holding Turnip He—I mean, him?”
“Yeah, Nicky,” Catherine replied, “Sometimes all a child needs is a little love and affection.”
“Greg, pick him up,” Nick commanded.
“What?”
“Just pick—” He watched as Greg posed himself over the baby, trying to find the right angle to do this with, before Nick hung up on Catherine, stormed over, and scooped the poor screaming child up into his arms. He tried to think of something else to do to calm him down, and then resorted to patting him on the back softly, something he had seen mothers do on TV. He didn’t this softly for a while when:
BUUUURRRRRRPPP!
“Damn,” Greg whistled, “I can’t even get that on a good day.”
The ailment clearly solved, the baby snuggled its head into Nick’s shoulder, and proceeded to quickly fall asleep.
“Awww,” Greg grinned, “Look at you, Daddy Stokes.”
Nick, in return, shot Greg a look that said, ‘if you ever mention this to anyone, I kill you.’
***
Nick slid back into the driver’s seat of his Denali after returning from dropping their little ‘Turnip Head’ off at social services. They knew it was the best thing to do for the baby, because neither of them was equipped to raise a child, but Greg was still very upset about this.
Greg’s face was plastered up against side window of the Denali as it pulled away, softly sniffling as they drove away. “Bye-bye Turnip Head. I’m gonna miss you.”
“Greg, you knew him barely a day.”
“Yet, it seemed like it had been forever,” Greg sighed before slumping back in the seat and turning to his fellow CSI, “Admit it. You’re gonna miss the little guy, too.”
“I am not,” Nick replied, before turning his head away from his friend, his eyes focused on the road.
“Yes, you are,” Greg grinned, “I can see the little tears in your eye. You got attached. You’re gonna miss him.”
“I am not,” Nick growled. “—Well, maybe a little.”
“Uh-huh,” Greg nodded, believing himself to know better.
“Watch it, Sanders. I am driving. I may drop you off a cliff somewhere.”
Greg wiped the knowing expression off his face, before instinctively tightening the seatbelt around him. It was going to be a long ride home.
THE END
ps: good luck to both !!!! NOW VOTE!!
“Baby in a Basket” by Iluvroadrunner
Greg Sanders stretched lazily as he came out of his deep sleep. Another beautiful afternoon in Las Vegas, he thought lazily as he rolled over. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the babies are crying—babies are crying?
His eyes flew open with a start as he recognized the sound coming from outside the front door. However, he also wasn’t awake enough to comprehend that he wasn’t, at home, in his apartment, in bed. He tried to catch himself in time, but he couldn’t stop himself from tumbling off the couch he had been sleeping on and onto the hardwood floor beneath him.
“Ooow,” he moaned softly, now fully awake and remembering where he was. He had just finished working non-stop for two days on a case, with barely any sleep, and Nick had refused to let him drive home in his condition. But then, Greg was too out of it to give the man decent directions, so Nick decided just to let the younger CSI crash on his couch.
However, the new wake up call did nothing to erase the screaming wailing sound that was clearly a baby. Meaning there definitely was a baby crying somewhere. Greg slowly pushed himself to his feet, before heading in the direction of the offensive noise, finding himself right at Nick’s front door. He unlocked the deadbolt, and opened it. He saw no one there, but the noise was definitely the loudest at this particular point. He then decided to look down.
Sitting at his feet, there was a basket with a baby wrapped in it. You’ve got to be kidding me, he thought to himself, This kind of stuff only happens in movies. He continued to stare down at the screaming child until he heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs behind him.
“Morning, Greg,” Nick Stokes mumbled, obviously still half-asleep as he stumbled towards the bathroom.
“Nick?”
“Yeah, Greggo?” he shouted as the bathroom door shut behind him.
“There’s a baby on your porch.”
“That’s nice—” Nick began, before he cut himself off, and poked his head back out the door, “There’s a what on my porch!?!?!”
“A baby,” Greg repeated, before hearing the man walk up next to him, and look down. All this time, the baby had continued to scream.
“Maybe we should take it inside—?” Greg began, and Nick nodded.
“Yeah, maybe we should do that—”
***
Moving the baby inside the house did nothing to dispel the screams of the child. The two men continued to stare at it like it was a foreign object of some kind, and they both had no idea what to do with it. Nick’s eyes wandered to the bag attached to the side of the basket, and spotted a note sticking out of the top.
I’m sorry, but I didn’t know what else to do. Please take care of him.
“I thought crap like this only happened in the movies,” Nick muttered before spotting a bottle under the note. “Maybe he’s hungry,” he whispered, before pulling out the bottle, and sticking it towards the baby’s wailing mouth. The baby quieted momentarily and wrinkled its nose, before twisting its head away from the offending object. Nick tried to follow the baby’s mouth with it, convinced that it was what the child wanted. The baby only twisted his head in the opposite direction, before continuing to wail some more.
“Didn’t work, Nick,” Greg sighed from his post next to the other man.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Nick hissed. The outburst of foul language only caused the child to cry more, and Greg shot the older man a look.
“Look now, you’ve upset poor Turnip Head!”
“Turnip Head!” Nick shouted, “You named him!”
“Well, we couldn’t keep calling him ‘it’ could we?” Greg replied, hands on his hips, “And his head is somewhat turnip-shaped and I just figured—”
“Never mind,” Nick sighed, “OK, why else do these kids cry?”
“Don’t you know?” Greg frowned.
“Why the hell would I know?”
“Because you’re the baby of seven. You probably have seventeen million nieces and nephews that you’ve probably taken care of over the years, and I just thought—”
“They live in Texas. I live in Vegas. When do I get to see them?”
“OK, point,” Greg sighed, before staring back down at the helpless child, “Don’t they usually cry when they—you know—make a deposit?”
“What?”
“You know,” Greg frowned, “—poop.”
Nick jumped back from the table, “You do it!”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“I tried to feed it—him,” Nick replied, “You check the diaper.”
“Fine,” Greg sighed before sitting the baby up slightly. He hesitated for a second, eyes pinched tightly closed, “Does this count as child molestation if he’s not yours?”
“No!” Nick sighed, fighting the urge to smack the man upside the head when he had a crying child in his arms, “Just do it!” Greg cringed before glancing down the diaper and then looking back up again, eyes still closed tightly. “Not the diaper.”
And poor little Turnip Head continued to cry.
“Well what’s wrong with him?” Nick sighed, continuing to lose his patience with the child. And Greg.
“I don’t know,” Greg sighed, “Wait a minute. Catherine had a baby.”
“Good!” Nick sighed, dashing for the phone, “I’ll call Catherine. You—play a game with him or something.”
“AAAAAAHHHHHH!”
“It’s OK, it’s OK. Uncle Greggo’s here,” Greg sighed, “You wanna play Peek-a-Boo, little Turnip Head? Huh?”
“AAAAAAHHHHHH!”
“Alright here, we go. Where’s the baby?” Greg said as he covered his eyes, “There he is!” As his face popped out from behind his hands, and he made the stupidest face he could. The baby calmed down for all of two seconds, enough to give Greg a look of utter confusion. Then he started to scream again.
“—Yes, Catherine, a baby,” Nick sighed as he came into the room, a phone to his ear, “—Do I look like I know how it got there?—Look, I just want to shut the damn kid up, alright?”
“Have you tried just holding the baby?” Catherine replied, the amusement of these two particular men trying to take care of a baby clearly evident in her voice.
“Holding Turnip He—I mean, him?”
“Yeah, Nicky,” Catherine replied, “Sometimes all a child needs is a little love and affection.”
“Greg, pick him up,” Nick commanded.
“What?”
“Just pick—” He watched as Greg posed himself over the baby, trying to find the right angle to do this with, before Nick hung up on Catherine, stormed over, and scooped the poor screaming child up into his arms. He tried to think of something else to do to calm him down, and then resorted to patting him on the back softly, something he had seen mothers do on TV. He didn’t this softly for a while when:
BUUUURRRRRRPPP!
“Damn,” Greg whistled, “I can’t even get that on a good day.”
The ailment clearly solved, the baby snuggled its head into Nick’s shoulder, and proceeded to quickly fall asleep.
“Awww,” Greg grinned, “Look at you, Daddy Stokes.”
Nick, in return, shot Greg a look that said, ‘if you ever mention this to anyone, I kill you.’
***
Nick slid back into the driver’s seat of his Denali after returning from dropping their little ‘Turnip Head’ off at social services. They knew it was the best thing to do for the baby, because neither of them was equipped to raise a child, but Greg was still very upset about this.
Greg’s face was plastered up against side window of the Denali as it pulled away, softly sniffling as they drove away. “Bye-bye Turnip Head. I’m gonna miss you.”
“Greg, you knew him barely a day.”
“Yet, it seemed like it had been forever,” Greg sighed before slumping back in the seat and turning to his fellow CSI, “Admit it. You’re gonna miss the little guy, too.”
“I am not,” Nick replied, before turning his head away from his friend, his eyes focused on the road.
“Yes, you are,” Greg grinned, “I can see the little tears in your eye. You got attached. You’re gonna miss him.”
“I am not,” Nick growled. “—Well, maybe a little.”
“Uh-huh,” Greg nodded, believing himself to know better.
“Watch it, Sanders. I am driving. I may drop you off a cliff somewhere.”
Greg wiped the knowing expression off his face, before instinctively tightening the seatbelt around him. It was going to be a long ride home.
THE END
ps: good luck to both !!!! NOW VOTE!!
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