Danny’s not sure what’s more soothing, Steve’s intermittent computer-key clicking or matching his steps to the baby’s breathing. Well, actually, the baby is far more soothing, and she makes the key-clicking almost tolerable.
Eventually the clicking stops and Steve says, “I could probably find her. The mom.”
Danny turns to find Steve watching him closely. He nods, because, “Yeah, you probably could. Hell, you could probably track her home if you left now, follow her footsteps through the dew and her scent on the breeze.” He doesn’t stop moving, but he lets his pacing bring him around in front of the desk. “But you have to consider a couple things, here. Not only would you be breaking the law--which doesn’t really faze you, I can be honest about that--not only would you be breaking the law, but you need to consider what you’d be doing to that woman, coming back to her like that.”
“She gave up her child, Danny,” Steve says, voice broken like he’s not sure how to even process it, “Just handed her to me, just like that.”
“You honestly think it was ‘just like that’? You look at me, you look at her,” Danny rubs up and down the baby’s back, “and you’re trying to tell me, with a straight face, that her mom handed her over easy?”
Steve swallows, hard, and asks, “Would y--”
“If I thought I couldn’t take care of her? If I couldn’t keep her safe, give her what she needed?” Danny’s guts twist with the thought of it, with the idea of giving up Grace before he’d even gotten to know her, but he has to be honest, “Yeah. I can tell you, it wouldn’t be easy. Her mom--we won’t ever know, okay? We aren’t supposed to know, but we have to trust, and she will have to trust that her mom did what she did for good reason.”
Steve nods, then, looking a little like he might understand, and he turns back to the screen. “It’s just,” he rumbles, “she didn’t tell me her name.”
Danny comes around behind the desk to see that Steve’s got most of the report filled out, but the ‘Child Name’ box is empty. “Her adoptive parents will probably change her name anyway,” he points out. “But you could always give her one. A little something to remember you by.”
“Or you could?” Steve asks, but before Danny can answer, the baby lets loose the long, gurgling-fart noise that signals the filling of the diaper. Steve leans away quickly and says, “Uh, Danno, I think that one’s for you.”
Not Trained for This (5/?)
Eventually the clicking stops and Steve says, “I could probably find her. The mom.”
Danny turns to find Steve watching him closely. He nods, because, “Yeah, you probably could. Hell, you could probably track her home if you left now, follow her footsteps through the dew and her scent on the breeze.” He doesn’t stop moving, but he lets his pacing bring him around in front of the desk. “But you have to consider a couple things, here. Not only would you be breaking the law--which doesn’t really faze you, I can be honest about that--not only would you be breaking the law, but you need to consider what you’d be doing to that woman, coming back to her like that.”
“She gave up her child, Danny,” Steve says, voice broken like he’s not sure how to even process it, “Just handed her to me, just like that.”
“You honestly think it was ‘just like that’? You look at me, you look at her,” Danny rubs up and down the baby’s back, “and you’re trying to tell me, with a straight face, that her mom handed her over easy?”
Steve swallows, hard, and asks, “Would y--”
“If I thought I couldn’t take care of her? If I couldn’t keep her safe, give her what she needed?” Danny’s guts twist with the thought of it, with the idea of giving up Grace before he’d even gotten to know her, but he has to be honest, “Yeah. I can tell you, it wouldn’t be easy. Her mom--we won’t ever know, okay? We aren’t supposed to know, but we have to trust, and she will have to trust that her mom did what she did for good reason.”
Steve nods, then, looking a little like he might understand, and he turns back to the screen. “It’s just,” he rumbles, “she didn’t tell me her name.”
Danny comes around behind the desk to see that Steve’s got most of the report filled out, but the ‘Child Name’ box is empty. “Her adoptive parents will probably change her name anyway,” he points out. “But you could always give her one. A little something to remember you by.”
“Or you could?” Steve asks, but before Danny can answer, the baby lets loose the long, gurgling-fart noise that signals the filling of the diaper. Steve leans away quickly and says, “Uh, Danno, I think that one’s for you.”