Author's note: I didn't want the Army to feel left out!

OOOOOOOOOO

"This is our target..."

Allen Clay was standing in the middle of the living room of the safe-house that was owned by a dummy corporation which was in no way traceable to Robert Kinsey – although it was in truth owned by him – and was addressing a small band of elite soldiers.

There were five of them total – including Clay – and all of them had seen more than their fair share of combat and all of them had participated in plenty of behind the lines missions. Ranging in rank from a Sergeant First class up to a Captain, they were tried and tested, and Clay trusted them more than he trusted anyone.

"The Air Force Academy?" One of the men – Sergeant First Class Julian Moore – asked, not bothering to hide his confusion. "What could possibly be there?"

"A Cadet named Shawn Adams," Answered Clay. "Kinsey wants this boy to be taken to teach his father some kind of lesson."

"Killed?"

"No. We're to capture him – alive – and bring him back here."

"That ought to be interesting," said the Captain – Steven Payne.

Clay shrugged, "It shouldn't be all that hard. There's not that much for defenses form what the papers Kinsey gave me say, and there's a roommate, but we should be able to do this without waking him up if we do it right."

"And if he does wake up?"

"Then we make sure he sleeps well the rest of the night."

They'd take knock out gas or a syringe – whichever seemed safest once they'd made their plans.

"What are we supposed to be doing with this guy once we have him?"

"We call Kinsey and he tells us from there."

"What kind of defenses are we looking at?" Moore asked, looking at the papers that Clay had pinned to a corkboard on the wall.

"Minimal," Clay said, gesturing for them all to get up and come over and look. "We could probably go in through the gate if we wanted to."

They all laughed at that, since it was an old joke.

"What we'll do is go over the wall here," Clay said pointing to the proper photo from the group of them he had hanging up. "Then we'll..."

And so it went. They studied their plan – which was always subject to changing if someone saw a problem with something – and debated on the best course of action in the event that the roommate woke up, or someone managed to surprise them. Not that they expected it, but it was always better to have a contingency plan, an these men were pros and would always have a contingency plan.

OOOOOOOOO

"How about Yolanda?"

"Ugh."

Sam pulled her head from where it'd been resting on Jack's shoulder to peek at his face to see if he'd been serious. Judging from the gleam of humor in his eyes, he wasn't. Lucky for him.

The two of them were enjoying a very relaxing evening together. Jack had made dinner – and had gone all out with baked chicken in mushroom sauce, pasta and veggies on the side – and had then presented her with what he called their '3 month celebration gift'.

A lovely photo album with a place on the front to have their baby's name engraved into the shiny ornamental name tag, and all sorts of places inside for certain pictures; baby's first steps, first birthday, first words – like you could get a picture of that? But it was beautiful, and Sam had cried when she'd seen it. And Jack had pulled her into his arms and carried her over to the couch where they were now cuddling while he teased her to help her get her hormones back into line.

The first time she'd started crying for nothing, he'd been concerned, and between him and Jaffer the two of them had treated her like glass until she'd been about ready to kick them both out of the house for the rest of her pregnancy. It wasn't quite so bad, now, although Jack was always gentle with her when she cried – or got angry – and he was always willing to hold her when she wanted it – which was more and more often. Crazy baby was really getting to her.

Now they were discussing the name that would end up being engraved in the photo album, and since they were still at ends about the sex of the baby, they weren't able to come to an agreement.

"How about Norton?" Sam asked.

"Norton?"

She smiled and shrugged, and Jack shook his head.

"No way."

"How about-"

The phone rang, interrupting them. Jack looked around, certain he'd brought it into the living room with him, but realizing he hadn't, since he'd been carrying Sam at the time.

"Jaffer... get that phone, will ya, little man?"

The black lab gave Jack a reproachful look – next thing they'd be having him do the dishes – and slid off the couch, walking over and taking the ringing cordless in his mouth. He brought it over and Jack took it from him, and then answered it while Sam made a big deal over the dog and reminded him that he was the greatest, smartest dog in the world.

Yeah, he'd almost be willing to do the dishes if Sam asked him to...

"Hello?"

"Jack, hi."

"Shawn?"

Sam looked over, wondering if everything was all right.

"Yeah."

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah."

"He's okay," Jack murmured to Sam, smiling when he saw her lose the worried look in her blue eyes. Her perfect blue eyes that were so easy to fall into that-

"Jack?"

Jack snapped his attention back to the phone.

"Yeah, sorry."

Sam snickered, although she was blushing, too. She knew she'd distracted him, and it made her feel good that she still did. She hoped she would still do it when she was huge and bulky.

"Have you guys cemented out your Thanksgiving plans yet?"

"We never cement anything, Shawn, you know that." Jack told him. "What's up?"

"Do you have anyone staying over there?"

"Not that I know of. Sam's dad might come, but he's going to want to stay with Hammond if he does, so they can catch up. Why? You want to come sleep on our couch?"

"No." Shawn realized he might have said that a little fast, and added. "Well, if I didn't have a place to sleep I would, but-"

Jack laughed, "I know what you meant."

"Well, Ian just found out that his mom and dad are probably not going to be in New York for Thanksgiving, which means he'd have to either stay at the school or go home and be alone..."

"Hold on, buddy." Jack turned to Sam. "Ian doesn't have a place to go for Thanksgiving. Think you could handle a teenager around the house for the holidays?"

Sam smiled.

"I think it'd be great."

"Ask Ian – tell Ian – that Sam insists that he comes and stays with us, and if he has a problem with that then he's just going to make her cry, and then I'll have to do him bodily harm."

"You don't mind?" Shawn asked, obviously sounding relieved. "He could stay with us, but grandma and grandpa are coming in, and I don't think that we're even going to have floor space for him."

"He can have the couch. Tell him we'll come by and pick him up on Wednesday."

"I'll let him know, Jack. Thanks."

"Anytime, Shawn. Need anything else?"

"Nope. Tell Sam I love her, and I'll see her soon."

The phone went dead.

"He loves you and he'll see you soon."

"Ian?"

Jack rolled his eyes.

"Shawn."

Sam laughed and Jack realized belatedly that she'd gotten him.

"Wench."

Sam just giggled and pulled him close to steal a kiss.