Author's note: I heard Darius Rucker's new single, 'It Won't Be Like This For Long' a few weeks ago on the radio and I sat in my car in the grocery store parking lot and bawled like a baby. If you have ever been either a daddy or a daughter – or a parent or a child, for that matter – you can most likely relate to this song. When I heard the song again two days ago, it occurred to me that it might make a good songfic showcasing Gage as a new dad. This is my first songfic, and I know there are folks out there who have written tons of them, so I'd really like to get lots of feedback on this and please don't hesitate to be honest.

SMUT ALERT: On the theory that sometimes you just have to go where the story takes you, I let things get pretty graphic between Gage and Sydney for few paragraphs near the end of the story. After all, they are married and they are head over heels in love with one another. Stuff happens. It's no wilder than most romance novels and actually a lot tamer than some I've read. Enjoy.

It Won't Be Like This For Long

By

Moviemom44

He didn't need to wake up. He was already awake listening to his newborn daughter cry in the bassinet on the other side of the bedroom. His wife stirred beside him, a low groan escaping her throat.

"My turn. Go back to sleep," Gage whispered as he leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on Sydney's cheek.

"No, I'll need to nurse her, but you could go and get her for me," Sydney answered as she rolled over, propped herself against the pillows and opened the flap on her pajama top. What, she thought to herself, did new mothers do before someone, probably a nursing mother, designed garments to allow for discreet breastfeeding?

Gage got out of bed and softly padded across the room to where his four-day old baby girl lay squirming and crying under the pink blanket his sister Julie had given them at Sydney's baby shower. It had been a lucky guess on Julie's part, since Gage and Sydney had insisted on not learning the baby's gender ahead of time.

"Oh, Miranda, you do know that it's the middle of the night, don't you?" he cajoled softly, lifting the infant, blanket and all, and cradling her against his shoulder. He just stood there for a bit, holding his tiny girl, stroking her back and doing the 'daddy rock', shifting his weight from one leg to the other in an age old rhythm that he'd never practiced but just seemed to know instinctively.

It occurred to him that the love he felt for his baby daughter was, like the dance, both ancient and new. It bubbled up fresh every day from a bottomless wellspring deep in his heart that he hadn't even known existed until he heard the doctor say, "She's a girl." But it had existed. It had been there all his life, just waiting for Miranda to come along and tap into it.

After a minute, he realized that no amount of cuddling was going to satisfy Miranda's most immediate need and he carried her to the bed and laid her in her mother's waiting arms.

"I'll go make some coffee," Gage offered. On his way to the kitchen, he used the bathroom and, after washing his hands, splashed some water on his face to make sure he was coherent enough to get the coffee grounds in the pot. He didn't normally drink coffee at 3 a.m., but then again, very little had been 'normal' since Miranda had arrived and taken sleep deprivation to a whole new level.

While the coffee pot gurgled, Gage tried to remember the last time he had gone four days without sleep. One stakeout he and Sydney had been on early in their partnership came to mind, but even that had only lasted a little more than 48 hours and they had both been able to catch naps now and then while the other one kept watch.

He was glad he didn't have to go back to work for another week. Sleep deprivation and high-speed chases, or God forbid, gun play, might well prove to be a deadly combination.

When the coffee was done, he poured two cups, carried them to the bedroom and sat them on the nightstand next to the clock, which currently read 3:30 a.m.

"Decaf?" Sydney inquired. Gage nodded as he sat beside her on the bed.

As Miranda continued to make suckling noises, a little green-eyed monster lurking in some dim corner of Gage's mind reminded him that certain parts of his wife's anatomy were, at least for the time being, no longer under exclusive contract to him. What did all the books say? At least six weeks, but more like three months? Sleepless nights he could tolerate, but this whole breastfeeding thing might have to be renegotiated.

"Of course, I'm not even sure why I bothered to make the stuff; it's not as if it will put any pep in my step."

"No, but just imagine Miranda gulping caffeine-laced breast milk. You think she never sleeps now? You'd be suicidal."

Gage chuckled at the mental picture he had of his baby girl pinging off the walls, wailing at the top of her lungs, while he sat slack-jawed and babbling in the corner.

Sydney reached up and stroked her sleepy husband's cheek. "I know it seems like we'll never get a whole night's sleep again, but honey, I promise it won't be like this for long. Before you know it, we'll be laughing about this first week and talking about how fast she's growing and wondering where the time went," she said, smiling first at her husband and then at her daughter who was sleeping contentedly now on her lap.

Gage laid his index finger against Miranda's tiny palm and watched her fingers wrap reflexively around it. He noticed then that her entire hand was only slightly wider than his wedding ring. How, he wondered, could someone so small be the source of so much love?

"I know you're right, Syd, and I don't want to miss a single minute of her life," he gushed, "even if I am walking around in a kind of fog all the time."

"And this is different for you how, exactly?" Sydney teased him.

"Very funny, Shorty," he shot back, calling her by her seldom-used nickname.

"Uh-uh-uh. I'm not the shortest one around here any more, now am I?" she said, pointing at the sleeping infant in her arms.

"Maybe not, but you're still shorter than me…Shorty," he needled and lept off the bed before she could punch him squarely in the bicep. He didn't run far, though, reaching to lift Miranda from her mother's lap and carefully laying her down in her bassinet, all the while praying she would sleep at least until daylight.

-----

Four years and one hour later, Gage felt the unmistakable sensation of a small body crawling under the covers next to him and snuggling against his side. Miranda let out a contented sigh, wrapped one little arm around her daddy's big bicep and rested her head against his shoulder.

"Did you have a bad dream?" Gage whispered, hoping to not wake Sydney.

"No, I just woke up and missed you. Can I please stay here 'til morning?" Miranda whispered back, her hazel eyes luminous in the glow of moonlight spilling through the bedroom window.

Gage reached over and tucked a stray strand of blond hair behind his daughter's ear, kissed her rosy cheek and said, "You bet, honey. Go back to sleep."

He recognized her doe-eyed plea for what it was -- an attempt to soften him up so he would let her stay home from preschool. It wouldn't work, of course; they both knew that, but if sleeping next to him was her way of coping with the anxiety of being "a big girl", then that was OK by him.

Sydney rolled over and kissed her husband lightly on the mouth.

"What was that for?" Gage inquired quietly.

"Being the best daddy in the whole world," she answered, smiling, and snuggled next to his other side, laying one arm across his chest and stroking her daughter's hair with her fingers.

Gage wrapped one arm around each of his two girls and smiled contentedly as they all went back to sleep.

-----

Sure enough, the scene Gage had been dreading since Miranda made her wee hours appearance in their bed was playing out before him yet again. He was standing at the door of the Bright Futures Preschool trying to convince his only child that he wasn't abandoning her forever, just for the seven hours of the school day, which might as well have been forever as far as Miranda was concerned.

"Miranda, honey, we've been through this already. Daddy has to go to work and you have to stay here at school with Miss Carson and your friends," he told her, trying to sound stronger than he felt. It just killed him when she cried and clung to his legs, begging him not to go.

"I don't have any friends! Nobody likes me! Daddy, please don't make me stay today! Can't I come to work with you and Mommy?" Miranda shrieked, refusing to let go of him.

Miss Carson, the lead teacher for the four-year-old class, came to his rescue – again.

Kneeling in front of Gage, so that her blue eyes looked directly into Miranda's red-rimmed ones, she opened her arms and made a pouty face.

"If you don't stay, Miranda, who will help me stir the chocolate milk at snack time? You're the best chocolate milk stirrer we've ever had," Miss Carson gushed.

Miranda responded by tightening her grip around Gage's knees and sobbing louder.

"What can I do?" Gage pleaded, feeling utterly helpless.

Miss Carson reached out and gently but firmly peeled Miranda off her father and pulled her close.

Looking up at a distraught Gage, she said with time-tested confidence, "Don't worry, Ranger Gage, this will only last a week or two. One day soon, you'll drop her off and she won't even know you're gone. I see it all the time. It won't be like this for long."

With one last wave and a promise that he'd see her at three o'clock sharp, Gage turned and walked out the door, trying hard not to let his own tears fall.

-----

"Another Oscar-winning performance?" Sydney asked when she saw her husband come into the Company B headquarters and slam his badge and gun into the top drawer of his desk.

"Of course. Tomorrow you're taking her, 'cause I can't do it anymore. Do you know what I was thinking about all the way here?" Gage ranted, running his fingers through his hair at a rate that actually had Sydney mildly alarmed.

"No, honey, what?" she answered, humoring him.

"Whether or not we could make it on one salary, that's what. I was actually doing the math, Syd, and if it had come out differently, I might have just turned both of these in," he said pointing to the items he had tossed into the still open drawer.

Gage slammed the drawer shut, causing Trivette and Walker to look up from the file they had been studying on Trivette's desk. Then he sat down heavily in his chair, rested his elbows on his desk and cradled his head in his hands.

"How do you do it? How can you look in her eyes when she's like that and not just crumble?" he demanded, looking at Sydney again.

"You don't think I cry every time I leave her? Gage, she's my baby. I hate to see her like that, but then I remember that she's always smiling and laughing with the other children when I pick her up, so I know she does get over it, probably a lot sooner after we leave than either of us thinks. How about tomorrow we both take her and see how that goes?"

"OK, but don't be surprised if you have to talk me out of quitting every day until she gets over this," he acquiesced.

"Fine. We'll just have to keep each other strong in the face of that little force of nature known as our daughter," Sydney agreed, giving Gage's arm a squeeze of encouragement.

"You think she's a force of nature now, wait 'til she's a teenager," piped up Walker. He and Alex had taken in Alex's 16-year-old cousin, Janelle, last year after her parents were killed in a plane crash outside of Flagstaff, Arizona. To say the least, the girl had issues.

"I swear sometimes Janelle looks at me like she hates me, like she's made out of steel and doesn't need me for anything, but then the next minute she's as vulnerable as a day-old kitten, crying on my shoulder," Walker explained, shaking his head at the mystery of it all.

"You know what, Boss? You're not helping," Gage stated with such seriousness that Walker felt the need to qualify his remarks.

"When Alex's dad called the other day, I was grousing to him about Janelle and he told me their teenage years only feel like an eternity. He said before he knew it, his rebellious teenager had become a successful lawyer. Then, in another blink of an eye, he found himself walking her down the aisle at our wedding and wondering how his little girl had grown up so fast," Walker related, adding, "I bet we'll be saying the same thing someday, buddy, when our girls get married."

"Please, don't make me think that far ahead. I get choked up when she goes to preschool; I can't even imagine handing her over to some other man for the rest of her life," Gage said, a large lump forming in his throat.

"Hey, is anybody but me going to get any work done around here, or are we all going to sit around and mope about how much we wish we could stay home and play all day with our kids?" Trivette broke in, deliberately trying to shift the mood.

"You, too, Jimmy?" Sydney queried.

"Of course! And I had it worse than any of you, what with Ethan and Trey being twins," he confessed, remembering when his two identical six-year-old boys first started preschool. "They came at me with both barrels, you might say. I was just better at not letting it show so much."

'What you really mean is Erika had drop-off duty a lot more often than you did, huh Trivette?" Walker corrected him.

"OK. Guilty as charged, but that doesn't mean I still didn't miss them sometimes even more than they missed me."

Mercifully, the phone on Walker's desk rang just then and gave all four Rangers something to think about besides their children. Crime, as C.D. once said, marches on.

-----

"What's she so upset about?" Gage asked Sydney under his breath as his freshly bathed, pajama clad daughter sobbed loudly on his shoulder. The minute Gage had come in the house Miranda had flung herself at him, tears streaming down her face, babbling something about how someone named Lillian was going to be the "worst Swan Princess ever!"

"Her ballet teacher just called to say that Miranda will be a dancing chipmunk in their production of 'Swan Lake' this year," Sydney responded, wishing she could make the supporting part sound more glamorous than the lead role Miranda had pinned all her hopes on for weeks.

"Oh, baby girl, I know how disappointed you are. I'm sorry that dumb old Lillian got the part you wanted," Gage commiserated as he held her and stroked her hair soothingly.

Sydney shot him a look that said she didn't appreciate him disparaging a five-year-old, but he scowled back at her, nodding toward Miranda to silently communicate the fact that he didn't care about anybody's feelings except his daughter's.

He actually meant every word he said. He'd met little Lillian Fairmont and her high society parents at a fund-raiser for the elementary school where both girls attended kindergarten and he hadn't liked the spoiled brats, all three of them, one bit. It wouldn't surprise him to find out that Lillian's daddy had made a big donation to the ballet school just as the auditions were being held, so as to guarantee his ill-tempered princess the lead role.

"But do you know what?" Gage started and sat down on the living room couch with Miranda perched on his lap.

"No, what?" Miranda pouted, wiping her tears with the heels of her hands and heaving a huge sigh that signaled the end of Round One of her crying jag.

"When I come to see your show, the only one I will be watching is the dancing chipmunk and I won't care one bit about watching the worst Swan Princess ever. So, when you dance your part, you pretend the only ones watching the show are me and Mommy and you do your very best dance just for us, OK?" Gage said, encouragingly.

"OK, Daddy. I'll do my best just for you and Mommy," she pledged.

"You promise? You'll work hard and practice like your teacher says?"

"Yes, Daddy, I promise."

"That's my girl. Now go pick out three bedtime stories and I'll be in to read to you in just a minute," Gage directed as she hopped off his lap, kissed her mother goodnight and ran down the hall to her room.

"You shouldn't encourage her to think of Lillian that way," Sydney scolded him, but since she didn't like the kid either, she couldn't help but feel a little proud of her husband for riding roughshod over the politically correct concept of what is and isn't 'nice' to come to his own little princess's rescue.

"I'll do you one better. Not only do I hope our daughter steers clear of that swan-stealing little monster, but I also hope Miranda is never afraid to call it like she sees it. She'll have plenty of friends who care about her; she doesn't need to go out of her way to be nice to someone like Lillian, who, from what I've seen so far, will be raised to care about no one but herself," Gage predicted.

"I just hope she doesn't go out of her way to be mean to her either. You know it's always the second kid who throws the punch in self defense that gets caught; not the one who starts it."

"Are we talking about ballet or boxing?" Gage posed as he encircled his wife's petite frame in his bulky arms and smiled down at her.

"Why are we talking about anything at all?" Sydney purred as she went up on tiptoe and planted a spine-tingling kiss on his lips.

Just as Gage slid his hand under Sydney's t-shirt with the intention of unhooking her bra, Miranda announced in a loud voice, "I'm ready for my stories now, Daddy!"

Disengaging his lips from Sydney's, Gage gulped and yelled back," OK, honey, I'll be right there." Turning to his wife, he whispered, "Oops! I forgot she was still awake," and ran off down the hall.

-----

Four stories and two songs later, Miranda had finally let herself go to sleep, her small hand grasping her father's index finger in an ever loosening hold as she slipped further into slumber.

Gage carefully pulled his hand from hers, kissed her forehead, tucked her Hello, Kitty comforter under her chin and tiptoed from the room, pulling her door shut behind him. All the lights were already off in the living room and the kitchen, so he headed for his bedroom in search of his wife, intent on finishing what they started just before story time.

A full moon shone through the bedroom window, casting a silvery glow on the curvy form stretched out on the bed. For a moment, Gage just stood in the doorway, staring at her lying there, sleeping on top of the covers without a stitch on. She had been waiting for him, he realized, but the extra stories had taken too long and she had dozed off.

Something about the way her belly rose in a fleshy, round curve caught his eye and he trembled with a cautious joy as he knelt next to the bed and lightly laid his hand over the slight protrusion. Sydney's mouth curved into a sleepy smile and her eyelids fluttered open as she laid her own hand over his.

"How far along are you?" he whispered, his gaze locked with hers.

"About eight weeks. I just saw Dr. Matthews today. We're due Christmas day," she answered, thrilled that his knowledge of her body was so complete that he had known just by looking at her that she was carrying their second child. The intimacy of the moment made her want him so fiercely that she grabbed his face in both her hands and kissed him feverishly as she pulled him onto the bed.

Gage broke the kiss only long enough to shed his clothes and then devoured her mouth with his, pinning her beneath him. He felt her legs wrap around his waist as she opened herself to him and he plunged inside her in one deep, swift thrust, a low growl escaping his throat as he heard her whimper with yearning. For a moment, he thought about slowing down, even withdrawing completely so that he could pleasure her with his mouth first, but he abandoned the notion when she began to beg.

"Please, Gage, please. I need you now! Right now…oh, yes…right there, right there…ah, ah."

Bracing himself above her and grabbing handfuls of bed sheets, he drove himself into her over and over again, spurred by her breathless encouragement and the bucking of her hips against his.

It felt to her like her orgasm was purposefully slipping further and further inside her, almost as if it were backing up to get a running start, or perhaps playing 'catch me if you can.' She flung her hips forward with ever increasing ferocity, willing her G-spot to make contact with the thick head of his member long enough to finally release her from the verge of an orgasm and throw her headlong into the abyss. And then it happened and she was careening through space, free falling as the universe tilted and she clung to her husband to keep from crashing into the stars.

Her climax was all the permission he needed to let himself go and his whole body stiffened as he poured himself into her in great gushing bursts of ecstasy. At last, completely spent in every way, he collapsed onto her, buried his face against her neck and tried to summon the strength to lift his lips to hers. It took several minutes, but he finally was able to kiss her tenderly, roll off of her, gently gather her in his arms and hold her with her back to his chest, one hand resting lightly where the new life was growing inside her.

-----

Instead of her usual pre-dawn appearance in their bed, Miranda announced her desire for her daddy's companionship later that night by bellowing his name loud enough to wake the dead.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Miranda sobbed in her bed as the moonlight cast eerie shadows around her room, her imagination leading her down one frightening fairy tale path after another.

Gage snapped awake when he heard her yell. Sydney, too, was up like a shot, but Gage told her, "It's me she's hollering for. I'll go. If she needs you, too, I'll come get you."

Climbing out of bed on legs still weak from his earlier efforts, he pulled on his sweat pants before stumbling down the hallway. He turned on the bathroom light before opening the door to Miranda's room, so that she could see who was coming to comfort her without being blinded by the light in her own room.

She reached for him as soon as he crossed the threshold.

"Daddy, pick up! Pick up!" she cried, using the command she used to give him when she was a toddler and wanted to be held. He scooped her into his arms and stood up, holding her against his shoulder like he did when she was a newborn, softly shushing her cries and rubbing her back.

"Shhh, baby girl. It's OK, Daddy's here. Daddy's here."

As he felt her tears subside, his mind traveled back to the first week of her life, when he was sure that she'd been born with the ability to forgo sleep altogether, and he despaired of ever having sex with his wife again, and he realized that between then and now five years had evaporated like so much morning dew. Where had all that time gone? And how could he keep it from flying by so fast, not just with Miranda, but with the new baby, too?

Gage's own eyes were stinging as he laid her back on her bed and climbed in beside her, pulling the pink and white comforter over them both.

In a flash, Miranda threw the covers off and hopped out of bed.

"Where are you going, young lady?" Gage posed, clueless as to the reason for her sudden up-and-at-'em.

"I forgot to say my prayers before you read my stories and then I fell asleep while you were reading, so I want to say them now," she explained.

"All right, but then it's under the covers and back to sleep. No fooling around. Tomorrow is a school day," he informed her.

Kneeling beside the bed with Gage still in it, the little girl folded her hands, closed her eyes and addressed the Lord.

"Dear God, please bless Mommy and Daddy and Aunt Jules and Uncle Walker and Aunt Alex and Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Erika and all my cousins, but especially Daddy, 'cause he's my hero for not making me like Lillian, even if my teacher says I have to. Amen." After signing off with God, Miranda climbed under the covers next to Gage, kissed him on the cheek and snuggled into the crook of his big, strong arm. In less than a minute, she was sound asleep again.

Any other night he might have been in a hurry to return to his own bed, but his earlier musings about how his children would continue to grow whether he wanted them to or not held him fast to Miranda's mattress as he offered up a prayer of his own.

"Dear Lord, thank you for our new blessing. I am so happy about the baby, but I'm a little scared, too. When Miranda was born, I didn't know she would grow up so soon, but I know now and it already breaks my heart to know that my new baby's life will fly by just as fast as hers has. One day soon she'll be all grown up and gone, so please, Lord, help me hold on, help me remember to hold her close like this every chance I get, because I know it won't be like this for long. Amen."

Gage held his daughter a little tighter and felt her burrow even closer to him under the covers. Then, almost as if they breathed as one, father and daughter simultaneously crooned one last contended sigh as they drifted off to sleep.

He didn't have to wake up.

He'd been up all night,

Lying there in bed listening to his newborn baby cry.

He makes a pot of coffee and splashes water on his face.

His wife gives him a kiss and says, "It's gonna be OK,

It won't be like this for long.

One day we'll look back laughing at the week we brought her home.

This phase is gonna fly by

So baby, just hold on.

It won't be like this for long."

Four years later, 'bout 4:30, she's crawling in their bed,

And when he drops her off at preschool, she's clinging to his leg.

The teacher peels her off of him.

He says, "What can I do?"

She says, "Now don't you worry. This will only last a week or two.

It won't be like this for long.

One day soon you'll drop her off and she won't even know you're gone.

This phase is gonna fly by, if you can just hold on.

It won't be like this for long."

Someday soon she'll be a teenager,

And at times, he'll think she hates him,

And he'll walk her down that aisle and raise her veil.

But right now, she's up and cryin'

And the truth is that he don't mind,

As he kisses her goodnight and she says her prayers.

He lays down there beside her

'Til her eyes are finally closed

And just watching her, it breaks his heart,

'Cause he already knows…

It won't be like this for long.

One day soon that little girl is gonna be all grown up and gone.

And this phase is gonna fly by,

So he's trying to hold on,

'Cause it won't be like this for long.

It won't be like this for long.

The End.