Thank you for all the lovely reviews. It does me no end of good to see you all enjoying this story. There will be some really fluffy Sam and Jack soon, I promise, but a little bit of angst first. Hey, c'mon, this is me here...nothing, and I mean nothing, in my fics is that straight-forward or simple!

Junior

By Lingren

Previously:-

Jack finally looked up and smiled, comforted by her words. He could always rely on her to boost his flagging spirits. He just wished he'd had the common sense to talk to her after Charlie died; maybe it would have saved a whole heap of heartache all round.

"Thanks Mom."

Chapter 8

"So you didn't know about him, all this time?" John asked, wondering how the boy's mother could have kept such a thing from him; but then, if she wasn't living in this country, Jack couldn't possibly have known about him.

"Nope!" he replied succinctly.

"MOMMA!"

The scream startled them all from their seats and Jack took the stairs two at a time. He took hold of Jon and sat on the edge of his bed hugging and rocking the distressed boy, calming him.

After a minute or two Melissa entered the room as well and sat down beside her son, her fingers gently brushing away her grandson's tears.

Jonathon Junior gulped and sniffed back the glut of mucus then hiccupped.

"Shhh!" Jack lulled the boy whilst stroking his hair back. "I'm here."

"Does he often cry out for her in his sleep?" Melissa asked quietly.

"Sometimes, mostly when he remembers the horrors of that day."

"It must have been awful for him."

"Yeah. We reckon he saw everything. He hasn't spoken about it though. That'll come later I guess."

"He saw her killed?"

Jack nodded, kissing the top of Junior's head.

Melissa held her arms out to him and after a little encouragement from Jack, Jon moved across and curled up on her lap, her arms wrapping snugly round him, while she cooed and rocked soothingly; just as she had done a long time ago to his father after a bad dream.

Jack smiled, knowing that the boy was accepting his family as well as him as his father. Jack picked up the discarded Berra and managed to get a small smile from his son who immediately took the toy in a hug at the same time his thumb found its way into his mouth.

"Hungry?" Jack asked, receiving a wider grin round the digit as well as a nod. "Then let's go get something to eat. Is that dinner ready yet Mom?"

Melissa laughed and handed the boy back before disappearing out of the door. "Oh saints preserve us! I almost forgot. It should be about ready," she called back over her shoulder as she descended the stairs.

Jack took Jon to the bathroom and washed his hands and face before flicking the wayward hairs back into some semblance of order, making his father laugh.

"What?" Jack asked perplexed.

"He gets that from you!"

"What?"

"The hair. Your mother tried all sorts of things to get your hair to lay flat and nothing ever worked."

Jack shrugged, but secretly he was pleased the boy had inherited something other than his eyes from him.

"Yeah, poor kid. Seeing as I got it from you in the first place," he grinned.

John laughed.

"You're right there son. My mother tried her best too, but failed. Of course I didn't go grey 'til I was much older..." he grinned cheekily, causing Jack to deny it vehemently.

"Hey, you always said it us kids that turned you grey."

"That's my excuse. What's yours?"

"Daniel!" he snapped off quickly. "The man doesn't know the meaning of following orders and he's a linguist for cryin' out loud. You'd think he'd know better than anyone."

"So we're even then?"

Jack grinned and sniffed the air appreciatively.

"Yep! Come on kid, I think dinner will be ready in a minute, and we do not keep your Grandma waiting while she's serving up. She's one mean lady with the frying pan."

"Jonathon! You'll frighten the boy!"

Jack laughed and helped his son negotiate the stairs.

For once Berra sat discarded on the bed while its owner ate a hearty dinner.

OoOoOoOoO

By way of a change it was Jack who was loaded down with shopping bags this time round, while Jon Junior walked beside his Grandma holding onto her hand tightly. The Shopping Mall in downtown Minneapolis was crowded with people and although he was growing used to seeing people rushing around, he was still overawed by the sheer scale of everything. The light interior of the skyways over the streets between the shops was a source of fascination to him as he watched the busy traffic on the street below his feet.

They didn't hurry him along, allowing him to drink everything in to quench his thirst for knowledge about his new home. Melissa was besotted with the boy, and he had taken to her so well. Jack was pleased that he seemed to have settled in, and last night the boy had slept through without any problems. Probably from exhaustion, Jack thought wryly.

By the time they arrived back home, all three were shattered. Jack knew he would need to borrow a suitcase, or two, to take all of Jon's new things home which his Mom had insisted on buying. Next time they came up here for a visit he was definitely bringing his truck.

John opened the door to them when they pulled up and Jon proudly showed him his new boots ready for the winter, which he insisted he had to wear already. Jack unloaded the car and carried everything inside, dumping the many bags in the hallway until he'd finished the second trip to empty the car.

John waited until Melissa and Jon Junior had disappeared into the kitchen and Jack had shut the door behind him before he said anything.

"You had a visitor today," he began softly.

Jack looked at him, wondering who it could have been.

"Oh? Did they leave a name?"

"No, although I didn't really get a chance to ask. As soon as he knew you weren't around, he took off."

Jack puzzled as to whom 'he' could have been, but why wouldn't they have phoned first, and how did they know he was here? Strange.

"What'd he look like?"

"Tall, medium build. Strange clothes though. Foreign looking, rather a peculiar deep accent too; one I couldn't place."

Jack tried to conjure up anyone he knew that might fit that description. He came up with dozens of people he'd known over the years, but then significantly narrowed it down because only a few people knew that he was staying with his parents for a few days.

"And he asked specifically for me?"

"Yes. He asked if 'General Jack O'Neill and his son were at home'."

"Look. I'm gonna put in a call to the base. Don't say anything to Mom. It's probably nothing but I don't want her to worry, okay?"

"Is something wrong Jonathon?"

"I'm not sure Dad, but until I phone the base I won't know for sure. It just seems a little odd that's all."

"Use the phone up in the bedroom if you want."

"Nah, it's okay, I'll use my cell, but I'll do it from the bedroom. Can you keep Jon down here for a bit?"

John smiled and nodded.

"I think your Mother has him fully occupied, she baked some more of those cookies last night; the ones that he's taken quite a shine to."

Jack nodded and gave a small smile, but that little niggling in the back of his mind told him that something wasn't right. He picked up all of the carriers and climbed the stairs, hoping that his Mom would believe he was just taking the things up into the bedroom.

He sat on the edge of the bed and quickly speed dialled the number for the SGC.

"Walter?" Jack asked as soon as the phone picked up.

"General O'Neill, Sir! I..."

Jack quickly cut him off before he could say anything more.

"Walter, did you by any chance send anyone up here to see me?"

"No Sir. I..."

"What about any SG-1 or any other SG personnel? Did anyone say they were gonna come by here?"

"No Sir, not to my knowledge. They're all on the base right now. Did you want me to put you through to Dr. Jackson or Colonel Carter?"

"No. Thanks. I just wondered. Did you tell General Hammond where I was?"

"Yes Sir. I spoke with him earlier today."

"So he didn't know I was here until you told him?"

"No Sir. I..."

"Thanks Walter." Jack said, cutting off the call, leaving the Master Sergeant on the other end looking at the phone thoroughly bewildered and not a little frustrated too at being cut off every time he'd wanted to add something. He sighed and shrugged...it was General O'Neill after all; what did he expect?

TBC