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The Pitter-Patter of Little Paws
by Taima Hiroshima
She was in labor. They'd just gotten the phone call twenty minutes ago. Her contractions were coming a minute apart. Though they knew they wouldn't be allowed to see the birth, the two of them had rushed to the hospital.
House had his eyes closed. His cane was resting against the wall. Wilson paced the length of carpet in front of them. The maternity ward always made him feel nervous, not that he had many reasons to be here.
"James," House grumbled. "Sit down. You're making me want to beat you with my cane. The last thing our child needs is the knowledge that it's Mommy James was
murdered."
"You're not going to call me 'Mommy' are you?" James ran his fingers through his hair and sat down. The clock ticked on. It was nearing ten o clock at night.
"Well someone's gotta be the mom! And seeing as I was the one who gave my sperm, I sort of think it should be you." Greg cracked his eyes opened and glared.
"That's just it! You got to give your sperm." James protested. Greg shrugged. The younger man sighed. It wasn't as though he could fully blame Greg, though. He knew the way that diagnostician operated before he fell in love.
"She won't be too long." Greg predicted. James looked at him curiously, but he offered nothing further.
"I sent her flowers. Leia, I mean."
"Why? For putting herself through stretch marks and morning sickness?"
"Well, yes. She's given us a great gift, Greg." James narrowed his brown eyes.
"I know." He checked his watch. "I give her another half hour, tops."
"She's probably not even fully dilated yet. Don't get your hopes up." The oncologist snorted as he reached for a magazine. Again, the older man fell into silence.
"We never did decide on a name."
"Why don't we wait until we actually see the kid before we saddle them with whatever title they're going to have to carry for the rest of their life, hmm?" Greg sat up straight. He looked at the metal double doors keeping them away from the horrors of childbirth expectantly.
"I'm so glad we're not doing this at our hospital." James sighed. They hadn't even told anyone what they were doing. James had simply put in time for leave and got approval. While everyone knew about their relationship and at least kept their complaints silent, neither man was sure how they'd react to the thought of a baby.
"Cameron would've tried to push off one of her ratty stuffed animals." Greg chuckled. James said nothing, but watched his lover watching the door.
"Sit back. I bet we don't get out of her before--." Before he could even finish, the doors opened. Out stepped a woman of perhaps his own age. James assumed she was the OB/GYN.
"Mr. House and Mr. Wilson?" she was grinning from ear to ear. "Would you like to come and see your baby?"
"I'll be damned," Wilson breathed. In unison, they both rose up from their seats and walked down the hall, where the muffled cries of women rang out. They were lead to an empty room. No one had been in there for a while. The bed sheets were neatly
turned back, waiting for a patient.
"It was my understanding you were to have no contact with the mother. Is that correct?" House nodded, but James looked at the doctor, almost worried.
"Is she okay?"
"Just fine. It was a very easy birth. She says thank you for the flowers." The doctor began to walk out, calling over her shoulder that they'd bring in the baby to them in just a second. House sat down in the chair while Wilson stood, staring at the door.
"You're such a sucker," he yawned. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his Gameboy. Wilson scowled and snatched it from him, shutting it off.
"Well, what was that for?" House pouted.
Before Wilson could respond, the doors open. Two orderlies were wheeling in the little clear crib. House's heart stopped beating. He saw the child, lying on a soft white folded blanket. Its arms were up near its head, and its eyes were blinking. It looked almost to the point of tears.
"Oh," Wilson said. That seemed to sum up their reactions. House's heart started beating again. The orderlies slipped out as the two men crept towards their child. Wilson noticed the color of the blanket.
"A little girl! We have a baby girl."
"Aren't you surprised?" House smirked. Wilson said nothing. With worshipping hands, he bent and picked up the baby, cradling her in his arms. He sat in the chair.
"She's the most beautiful thing in the world." Her face didn't look upset anymore. She seemed rather calm as she looked up at Wilson with big blue eyes. "Do you think they'll stay that way?"
"Nope, they'll be brown by the time we take her home." House sat on the bed. He was smiling on the inside. His lover and their child. Almost reluctantly, Wilson handed the bundle to House to hold.
House felt every cell in his body warm. He wanted to hold onto her and never let go. Her eyes drifted shut and she settled down, worn out from the experience of being born.
My baby. My daughter, House thought. This is my little girl.
"What do we name her?" Wilson's voice had dropped to a whisper. He stood next to House, one arm around the man's shoulders, his fingers stroking the baby's head.
"Abigail?"
"No," Wilson shook his head. "Too old fashioned."
"Rachael? Rebecca?"
"Too common," Wilson rejected those as well. "Samara,"
"Huh?"
"Samara," Wilson swallowed. "After my grandmother. What do you think her middle name should be?" he bent and kissed the tiny forehead. The eyes opened again and she made a fussy sound before calming back down.
"Eileen. For my grandmother." House looked up at Wilson, and saw the love and devotion in his eyes. He stood up and carefully took the newborn to her crib. He laid her down and covered her with the pink blanket.
"They'll need to keep her here over night. We can get her in the morning."
"I don't want to leave."
"I know," House sighed. He checked his watch. "We can camp out in the waiting room? Make fun of all the other dads." He offered.
"Okay," Wilson nodded. "Let's do that..." House stuck his head out. Wilson stood over his sleeping baby girl and touched her forehead with his palm in blessing.
"Mosel tov, my young one." He whispered. "I welcome you into the world." The orderlies came back in. Wilson thought he might cry when they took her to the nursery for the night, to give her back in the morning.
In a room not far from there was a young woman. Her hair was drenched in sweat, and her muscles were tired. Just as House and Wilson were getting ready to rest for the night, she looked up at the ceiling.
"You're welcome. May you have what I never could." She murmured.
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of Fox Television, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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