Once or twice, he almost walked out. But, no. The General did not want Carter to find this out any other way. He had to be there with her.

"Hi, Sir," she said pleasantly, surprised to see the General waiting in her lab. He didn't respond. "Is everything okay?" she asked, suddenly noting how pale and tense he looked.

"Carter…we've got…to talk," he said haltingly. "Ugh!" he groaned, "here! Test results." He handed her the file.

For a moment, Carter held it in her hands and stared. She was afraid to open it, and the General was certainly doing nothing to quell that fear. She looked up at him, running his hands through his hair tiredly. "Sir…"

O'Neill looked at her imploringly. She didn't understand, but she opened the file.

"I swear to God, Carter…" he began.

"I know," she said quickly, though reeling from the shock.

"I would never…"

"I know…"

"You would remember…" he insisted, then shook his head, realizing how badly that came out.

"I know, Sir," she said, unable to repress a smile. Jack made her laugh at the strangest moments. And this was definitely a strange moment. "We'll figure it out."

Carter went home early that night. She was relieved, and felt finally able to relax a little. She was not carrying an alien creature, or some stranger's child. She didn't know how it happened, but she knew Jack would never hurt her. Something larger was at work. All she had to do was figure out the 'why', and the 'how' would follow. Why was she pregnant with Jack O'Neill's child?

Sam smiled at the irony. She went so far to suppress her feelings for him that she often remonstrated herself for looking in his direction. She felt guilty for days if she accidentally brushed his arm as she passed him in the hall. They couldn't share a taxi without worrying. Now they shared a child.

The thought hit her like a sledgehammer. Sam dropped down on the couch, leaned back and closed her eyes. She couldn't actually keep the child. Could she? No one knew that it was Jack's. Except Tomlinson. Of course, he didn't know she was the mother in question, but it certainly wouldn't take him long to put one and one together to make three.

Sam was surprised at how much the thought hurt, but she knew she could not keep the child. But she couldn't… No, she couldn't. Adoption was the only option. She would have to take a leave of absence. She would talk to Jack in the morning.

Why wait? she thought.

Jack heard the car pull up, but he was in no mood for company. Whoever it was, they were certainly insistent. He thought the knocking would never stop, but eventually it did and he became lost in thought again. So lost, in fact, that he never heard her coming.

"There you are!" Sam declared as she reached the top of the ladder.

"Geez-uss, Carter!" Jack yelled, bolting upright. "What are you doing sneaking around like that?"

"I don't think you can call it sneaking when I just spent five minutes pounding on your front door," Sam teased. She stopped to take in her surroundings. It was a beautiful warm night. O'Neill had brought an air mattress and lantern up to the rooftop terrace where his telescope was kept. "I hope I'm not intruding."

"No, I never answer the door. Just my way of playing hard to get," Jack said archly as he stretched out on the mattress again, threading his hands behind his head.

Sam leaned against the railing and looked out over the night. "I just thought we should talk."

"Carter, I know what I told you before, but now I think there's something to this idea of running away from your problems," Jack replied.

"Sir..." Sam began uncertainly.

He waved off her words. "Tomorrow is soon enough to face reality. Come look at this sky." Seeing her hesitation, he added, "C'mon, Carter. What more could happen to you?"

Sam smiled. She knew exactly what more could happen, but despite her better judgment, she claimed half his mattress and looked out over the starry sky. They sat in companionable silence for some time.

Jack was the first to break the reverie. "Boy or girl?" he asked.

Carter replied, "Huh?"

Jack turned to look at her. "Boy or girl? Just, you know, if."

Sam glanced at him and smiled. "Girl," she decided.

"Good," O'Neill agreed.

Sam's warning bells were clanging madly. She knew they shouldn't be having this conversation, not like this. Yet, part of her knew this was the real reason she had come – now, tonight, rather than in the clear light of day. She wanted to be here with Jack. She wanted this fantasy for a while.

"Names?" he asked.

"Regina?" Sam suggested.

"Enh! Try again."

"Genevieve?"

"Oh," Jack winced dramatically. "We'll buy a book."

"What do you think she would look like?" Sam asked pensively.

Jack propped himself up on his elbow and turned to see Sam's face. "With any luck, just like you," he said. "Beautiful."

Sam's warning bells would not be ignored. She knew they were on dangerous ground. "Sir..." she reproved softly.

Jack dropped back to the mattress. "You wield that "Sir" like a weapon, Sam."

"Only for protection," Sam countered.

"And what are you protecting exactly?" O'Neill asked, not without a touch of bitterness.

''Your career, just as much as mine," Sam said defensively.

"Is it worth it?"

"You tell me, Jack.''

Their words hung heavily in the air. It seemed this would stand between them forever. Sam sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees. She wondered if she should go, but she didn't want to leave on these terms. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I'm not," Jack replied. "You're right. It's a question I need to answer for myself." He fell silent again.

"I should go," Sam said softly.

"Please, don't," Jack entreated. Sam turned and watched him over her shoulder. He ran his hands over his face and through his short-cropped hair. When he looked at her again, the pain on his face struck her forcibly. She had never seen such an open expression of feeling from him. Jack O'Neill was notoriously guarded, even from those closest to him. Sam was no longer on dangerous ground; she was sunk. She dropped back to the mattress and reached for his hand.

Sam woke with the sun. Jack's arm was wrapped around her waist, the length of his body pressed lightly against her own. It was painfully pleasurable. She couldn't move without waking him, so she closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation.

When Sam woke again, Jack was gone. She guessed by the sun that it was around seven. He was probably inside getting ready for work, as she should be. How long was he going to leave me sleeping here? she wondered. At least I won't have to explain to my C.O. why I'm late, she thought wryly.

Sam knew she should get moving, but she wasn't ready to face him. She had less of an idea where they stood now than when she arrived. When Jack asked her not to leave, she expected him to talk, explain, ask questions, something. He never spoke a word and eventually she drifted off to sleep.

From below, Jack called softly. "Carter? You awake?" She answered him, and he replied that she should come inside. Sam combed out her hair with her fingers before climbing down.

The back door was open, leading her into the kitchen. On the counter were her keys and a fresh set of her clothes. From his position by the stove, Jack followed her gaze. "I hope you don't mind. I checked your car to see if you had something to change into before work. If not, I wouldn't have let you sleep so long." He didn't wait to find out if she minded or not. "Clean towel on the shelf by the sink. You'd better hurry or your eggs will be cold."

"I take it you've had your coffee already. I don't remember ever seeing you quite so..."

"Efficient?" Jack interrupted.

"I was going for something closer to perky," Sam corrected. "I would never have described you as a morning person before."

"Well, you've never slept with me before," Jack said with a sly grin.

''Next to you," Sam objected, "and yes, I have."

"Stop splitting hairs and go take a shower," he commanded. Carter obeyed orders. "Make it quick!" Jack yelled after her.