Authors Note: You can magically turn this chapter down a rating (from T to K+) by skipping the writing between the *'s. Or you could skip it if you don't want to watch Jon and Jacob have a super awkward talk about Sam's sex life.

"So what seems to be the problem today?" the doctor asks Sam.

Sam hides her face.

Jon looks right at the nurse, "She's pregnant."

The nurses raises her eyes, "You're sure?"

"Very sure," Sam says putting her hand on her belly. "It moved again," she says, pulling her hand away at the unexpected motion.

"Can I feel it?" Jon asks. She nods, and he puts his hand on her belly. A thrill runs through him as he feels his daughter move for the first time. But it's complicated because he's feeling her move through the skin of the child who will become his second-in-command. Yeah, this was weird.

"Are you the father?" the doctor asks.

"Yeah," he says, smiling at Sam.

"Do you have any idea how far along you are?" the nurse asks Sam.

"Not really," Sam says before he can answer. She might have trusted most of his answers, but she didn't trust his answer on this one. She is positive that she can't be five months pregnant. She would have noticed something by now wouldn't she have?

"Ok, we'll start by drawing your blood, doing an ultrasound, and then we'll talk about some do's and don'ts of pregnancy," the doctor continues.

Jon gives her hand a brief squeeze. Electricity zooms through her hand. This morning she was a single virgin. Now she was pregnant and holding hands with a boy who has proposed to her.

"You're going to get to hear her heartbeat soon," Jon tells her.

She's going to be a mother. A mother.

-0-0-0-

"So, ah… TV?" Sam says after they've finished the homework that Jon picked up for her after the doctor's appointment.

"Well, that's kind of complicated for us. I mock the romance, you mock the sci fi, we both mock the action, and there isn't a whole lot left."

"Ok? Ah… what do we like to do together?"

"Fish?"

She raises an eyebrow, "Ok," he admits, "That's just me."

"Look, we play cards, and talk, and read next to each other, and watch the stars."

"Watch the stars?"

"Yeah, I have a really good telescope," he says.

"Well, I have my dad's binoculars, on the days that he doesn't take them for field exercises at least."

"Actually, good binoculars are as good as a cheap telescope."

"I know," she says.

"Right, I might be an amateur astronomer, but you become a professional astrophysicist."

"You know, I have some really great books about the stars."

"And do they have more pictures or formulas?" he asks suspiciously.

"I could probably find you a kiddie encyclopedia, Jon," she teases.

"Sounds good, you wouldn't want to get me anything that is going to be too far out of my intelligence range."

-0-0-0-

The plan had been to stick around until Jacob came home so that Jon could be introduced to the family. But at some point after eleven o'clock they both fell asleep.

Jacob Carter slinks into the house several hours later. He moved silently, knowing that Sam was probably asleep, and that Mark would be too, if he'd come home yet. Jacob didn't bother to flip on a light as he walked through the kitchen. He'd done it often enough in the dark that he wasn't in any kind of danger. But when he got into the living room, he heard a sound that sounded suspiciously like breathing coming from the couch.

He flips on the light, and sees his daughter and a boy lying on the couch. Their heads are on opposite sides, and his hands are around her foot like he was giving her a foot massage when they fell asleep. It's not exactly the most compromising position to find teenagers in, but it is quite late.

"Aten hut!" he bellows. He was expecting a reaction from Sam. It's not like he gave his children any real military training. But when she was a little girl one of her favorite games to play was Air Force. She used to love for him to give military orders, and to try to follow them. It was kind of like Simon Says, but she wore camo.

It's not his daughter who reacts to the words, though. The boy is standing at attention with a crisp salute before he even opens his eyes.

"Sir," the boy says.

"Dad," Sam says, yawning on the couch, "You finally got home."

"What the hell is a boy doing in the house after midnight?" Jacob asks.

"Sir, I'm sorry, I didn't realize the time. I fell asleep," Jon says.

"How late did you MEAN to stay?" Jacob asks.

"We were waiting for you to get home. Why are you home so late?" Sam asks, getting even more miffed than her father.

"I got home as soon as I could. My job is important. You know that, Sammy. Why were you waiting for me?"

"I wanted you to meet my boyfriend, Jon."

Jacob gives a brief nod toward him. "What were you doing with my daughter when she was too sick to go to school?"

"Well, for one thing, I took her to the doctor. I also made her supper, and picked up her work from school."

"You went to the doctor? Are you ok?" Jacob asks Sam.

"Yeah," Sam says with a weak smile.

"I think we should tell him," Jon says.

"No," Sam says, sounding panicked.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jacob asks.

Sam starts to cry. Jon sits down on the couch next to her, and wraps his hands around her. "It's not going to be better if we wait," he says.

She nods her head, twisting her face in his shoulder until it actually causes him a little pain, not that he's going to complain about a nose digging into his collarbone. He's got bigger things to worry about. Jon briefly wonders how literal his offer to be Jacob Carter's punching bag is about to be.

Jon looks up at Jacob, "Sir, the reason why she went to the doctor today, is because she's pregnant."

"What?" Jacob bellows.

Sam starts to sob harder, and Jon puts an arm around her.

"Get the hell away from my daughter!" Jacob shouts.

"Sir, she's crying," Jon pleads.

"Well, she wouldn't be crying right now if you'd kept your hands the hell off of her," Jacob demands.

"She also wouldn't be crying if you weren't yelling," Jon points out.

"Get the hell out of my house," Jacob repeats.

"Sir, I'm not leaving until you're done yelling. I would much rather you yell at me than at her," Jon says.

"Stop it," Sam says, pulling her face away from his shoulder, "He shouldn't be yelling at you."

"The hell I shouldn't, he knocked up my daughter!" Jacob shouts.

"And you don't think that I had a say in this?" Sam asks.

"Just go to your room," Jacob says, "It's late, and you need your sleep."

"Are you ok?" Jon asks her.

Sam nods.

"Ok, I'll leave for the night," he says, pulling himself away from Sam.

"Where are you going to go, do you have a place to sleep tonight?" Sam asks.

"What? You don't have a place to live? A homeless teenager knocked up my daughter?" Jacob demands.

Years of black ops have made Jon very good at thinking on his feet. "My folks kicked me out when I told them about the baby."

Jacob just stares at him.

"I got a job today. I know that I am going to have to support my kid."

Damn, if it wasn't 15 below. He can just imagine having to explain to his grandchild one day that he'd allowed its father to die of exposure. Yeah, he might not be much of a father, but he sure as well wasn't going to let this kid DIE.

"You're going to stay here," Jacob says.

"What?"

"I can't send a kid out to sleep on the street. So you stay here for now. Maybe longer, it certainly wouldn't hurt the kid to have both of his parents live in the same house. But you will be in the guest room. There will be absolutely NO sex in my house," he pauses, thinking about how infrequently he's been home lately. He realizes that somewhere in his house was no doubt the place where this grandbaby was conceived. He's not exactly comfortable with this idea. "There will be no MORE sex in this house," he clarifies.

"Not a problem, Sir," Jon says, "We've actually decided not to do that anymore."

"Just… get to bed," Jacob demands.

-0-0-0-

Jacob Carter can't actually remember the last time that he slept more than three and a half hours at a time. Maybe the answer was never. When he was younger he used to just roll over and go back to sleep. But ever since his kids had been born, he'd gotten up to check at him whenever he woke up in the middle of the night.

He starts by looking at the empty bed where his son should have been. Jacob has stopped being surprised that his son is not in it a long time ago, although he's still disappointed by it.

Then he peaked in on his daughter. His pregnant daughter. Sleeping soundly, and snoring. When had Sam started to snore? Only since the pregnancy? His wife had snored during the pregnancy too, but only when she was much farther along. Or at least he thought so. How pregnant is she?

Tonight he has one more kid to check in. He peaks into the spare bedroom.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Jacob whispers, when the silent door opening causes Jon's eyes to flicker open.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Jon replies.

Jacob doesn't know how to reply to that. It's not like he can actually say, 'hey no big deal, all you did was get my daughter pregnant'. But anything else that he thinks of make him sound like an ass.

"Her life isn't over," Jon adds.

Jacob stars at him, "I don't think you understand how special she is. How smart she is. Ever since she was a little girl she wanted to be an astronaut. All of that is gone now."

"No, it isn't," Jon says, "The road to get there might have changed a little bit. But a baby didn't make her turn stupid."

"Although she was a bit stupid to end up with the baby," Jacob says. "Are you planning on sticking by her, Jonathan?"

"Yes, sir," he says, "I offered to marry her today."

Jacob feels like he should love this idea. Instead, he feels like he's been stabbed in the heart. He doesn't have much family left, and it feels like he is losing the biggest fragment of the broken family he has left. "What did she say?" Jacob mutters.

"She's thinking about it. It's one of many options we're discussing."

"You and I and my daughter are going to have to sit down, and have a talk about all of these options," he pauses, "How much time do we have?"

"She's five months pregnant," Jon mutters.

"Five months? Why did you wait so long to tell me?" Jacob asks trying to keep his rage at a low enough level that he won't wake up his pregnant daughter.

"We didn't know until this morning," Jon says.

"Why did it take so long to realize it?" Jacob asks, softer than he has been so far in this conversation.

*"I'll spare you the details, sir, but we didn't think that she could get pregnant, so we weren't exactly watching for the signs."

"I don't know who you got your sex talk from, but there is no method of birth control that is 100% effective," Jacob says, suddenly getting a twist in his stomach because he never gave his daughter the sex talk. He'd thought she was still too young for it. But she was sixteen, and that was wishful thinking. This was partly his own fault. If he'd talked to her, maybe she never would have had sex. Or maybe she would have been more careful, and wouldn't be having a baby right now.

He realizes her brother was also probably overdue for one. Although, the 'don't drink' speech hadn't exactly worked that well with Mark.

"Sir, it goes a bit beyond that," Jon says cryptically.

Jacob has no idea what the hell that means, and he isn't quite sure that he wants to ask. But the curiosity gets the best of him. "What does that mean, son?"

Jon blushes. He had a lie ready for this. A lie which would explain the intact virginity. It's a lie that he'd used on the doctor today, but it wasn't one that he'd intended on using with Jacob. "We weren't exactly, ah… there was no penetration, sir," he mutters, looking down.

Jacob's eyebrows almost hit the ceiling, "You knocked up my daughter by dry humping?"

"Yes, Sir," Jon says, his cheeks a flame.

"That sucks," Jacob says.

"Yes, Sir," Jon replies.

"Well, just to clarify, when I said no sex, that means that either of you should ever touch a part that would be covered by the other one's swimsuit, with ANY part of your body."

"We've learned our lesson, Sir," Jon mutters bashfully.

"I sure as hell hope so," Jacob mutters. He starts to head back down the hallway. He turns back, "What's your last name, son?"

"O'Neill," Jon replies, "Two l's."*

-0-0-0-

Jon hates the fact that he still has the instincts of a black ops soldier, even though he has little to no hope of ever using them again. When he hears the door open he's on his feet ready to do battle with his fists. By the time Mark stumbles into the house, he's in the hallway with a bat as a weapon.

He's surprised by what he sees. He knew that Mark was two years younger than Sam. He'd even done the math and figured out that that meant the kid was only fourteen. But he'd heard so much talk about Mark being a drunk, mostly before he came here, so he'd imagined someone a lot older. He'd never actually seen a fourteen year old drunk before.

"Who the hell are you?" Mark demands.

"I'm Jon," Jon says calmly, putting down the bat.

Mark seems confused by the calm. He looks around, "Mm in da wrong house?" he mutters.

"No, I'm a friend of your sister's," he says.

"Dad's gonna kill ya if he finds out Sammy's having a sleep over with a boy."

"Jacob knows I'm here," Jon replies, unfazed.

Mark looks at him in shock, "So my sister can do whatever the hell she wants, and I get in trouble every time I drink a sip of booze?"

"You had a hell of a lot more than a sip, and I'm in the guest room, not in your sister's room. Come on now, let's get you to bed."

"How long… you and Sammy been together," Mark slurs conversationally as Jon practically carries him down the hallway.

This is a part of the lie that Jon hadn't thought of up to now, and he'd constructed one heck of a covers story.

"Well," he says, "Eight months." He figures he ought to at least make it look like he and Sam dated a few months before their kid was conceived. But too long, and their lie was likely to be found out. He knew pretty much everything about her. Only, sometimes he got confused and revealed something that wasn't a part of her yet. But she didn't know very much about him.

"Eight months," Mark slurred, "How come she didn't tell me?"

"She did, in fact I met you a couple of times," Jon offers, pretending to be offended.

"Sorry man, I musta forgot," Mark says, looking bashful.

Jon inwardly groans. He was hoping the kid wasn't actually drinking to black outs. But guessing from the state of the boy, he probably was not going to remember this in the morning.

"Maybe you should drink a little less?" Jon offers.

"There are things… it's better to forget," Mark mutters, falling into the bed.

"I hear you on that one, man," Jon says, pulling off Mark's shoes and pulling a blanket over the already snoring boy. He stands watching him for a second, and finds paternal feelings stirring in his stomach. If you went by looks, Jon and Mark were about the same age. If you wanted to get technical, Jon had only existed for a few months (fewer months than his supposed baby, actually). But when Jon looked at him, he saw the son that had died.

Charlie would be eighteen by now, but he had the same blond hair. The same brown eyes. Mark's eyes came from his father, while Sammy got hers from her mother. Jon turns and heads back to his own bed while trying to think up a plan to save Mark, a few years earlier than he was saved the first time.

Author's Note: Most people who become alcoholics try their first drink before age 12. Most are binge drinking at least occasionally by 14. So, I don't think that Mark's drinking is completely unrealistic. It would also explain the Mark/Jacob rift.