"I'm what?"

"I'm sorry, Captain Carter. I'm afraid you're pregnant." They sat in Dr. Frasier's office, obviously used more for paperwork than patient consultations, judging by the piles of medical files and lab reports sitting everywhere. "I'm going to have to remove you from the mission rotation at least temporarily; we have no way of knowing what gate travel does to fetuses, and I'm not going to use you as a guinea pig." She paused, and lowered her voice. "Is this pregnancy the result of the Broca virus?"

Sam nodded dumbly, still trying to process this new information. She hadn't had a relationship last longer than a few dates since she and Jonas had split, and nothing recently.

"And is Colonel O'Neill the father?" the doctor pressed.

"Yes." Sam flushed and looked away.

"Captain, you're not the only one in this position," Frasier said gently. "There are at least seven other women pregnant from this, several of them with the child of a man in their chain of command. In three cases, one or both of the personnel involved is married to someone else. Two don't even know for sure who the father is. And given the low number of women on this base, that's quite a percentage."

"What happens now?" Sam asked dully. In a way, it would be a comfort not to know who the father was. Then at least it wouldn't be fraternization.

"Now, we tell General Hammond and Colonel O'Neill the situation. The general hasn't decided yet how we're going to handle cases such as yours, but he knows that what happened is not anybody's fault. Do you want to be there when I hand him my report?"

"No." The thought of facing him with that information—it had to happen sooner or later but right now later sounded much better.

"Would you like me to be here when you tell Colonel O'Neill?"

Sam shook her head. "Could you get him here, please? I don't think he spends much time in his office, so you'll have to page him."

"Of course, Sam." The doctor smiled sympathetically. "You can use my office, if you like." She rose and skirted her desk, pausing to lay a hand on Sam's shoulder. "If you need anything, just let me know. Under the circumstances, we're looking for a good OB/GYN to add to the staff here; if there are any complications, we'll need a specialist with the clearance to see the files on the incident."

She left, closing the door behind her. Sam leaned over, resting her elbows on her knees, head and hands hanging, as she tried to make some sense of what was going on. What was she going to do now? She couldn't keep it, but the thought of an abortion … she didn't know if she could do that, either. The colonel—how would he react? Would he want to keep it, or get rid of it? If he wanted to keep it, what would he do if she wanted an abortion? Conversely, if he wanted an abortion, how would she handle it? If they kept it, would he want to be involved? And what kind of a father would he be?

Father. Oh, god, Dad. He was going to be furious and disappointed. He'd come around to the notion of women in the service and his daughter being one of them, but it hadn't been his first inclination and he'd tried to dissuade her from her chosen career. He'd see this as a confirmation of his worst fears, and she couldn't even tell him the extenuating circumstances, because he didn't have the clearance. General Hammond was an old friend of his (they'd served together in Nam), but the General wouldn't bend clearance rules for personal reasons like this. Holy Hannah, how was she going to break the news?

"Carter, you okay?" She straightened as the Colonel's concerned voice broke her solitude. She hadn't even heard the door open.

"Yeah." She gestured to the other chair. "Could you sit down, sir?" She carefully avoided his eyes.

"Ok." He sat down, and Sam took a deep breath, gathering her courage. "Carter, what is it?" he asked, when she didn't say anything.

"I'm pregnant." Sam cringed. She hadn't planned on just blurting it out like that.

There was a silence. "Could you … repeat that?"

She glanced up, looking at him for the first time. His face was white with shock. "I'm pregnant."

"And I take it … it's mine?" Emotion washed over his face before it closed off. Sam could see his eyes go dead as he waited for her answer. He wasn't angry as she had half feared, but maybe that would have been preferable to this cold stillness.

"Yes. Doctor Frasier can do a paternity …"

He waved it off. "Carter, I trust you. If you say it's mine, it's mine." He paused. "You're not— you are— are you going to keep it?"

"I don't know. I haven't had time to think about this." Sam ducked her head, trying to hide the moisture in her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to lose his hard-earned respect for her by turning into a watering pot. "I've never really seen myself having kids. I don't … I don't think I'm the mothering type, really." She looked up, but not at him. If she saw his hard face, she really would lose it. "And I've got a job beyond all my wildest imaginations, the best job I could hope for in the whole world. The whole galaxy! And I know, because thanks to this job I've seen the galaxy. I don't have time for a baby!" Her voice broke, and she closed her eyes, fighting for composure. After a second, she added in a small voice, "but I don't … I don't think I could …" Despite her best efforts, she couldn't prevent a bit of moisture from escaping down her cheek.

A hand touched her back, rubbing gently. She opened her eyes to see the colonel crouched beside her, the awful deadness gone. "I wasn't expecting this either," he said softly. "After Charlie …" he trailed off and glanced away, but his hand never stopped moving.

Charlie, she thought, heart sinking further. She'd seen how he reacted to the alien facsimile of his son; obviously, he had loved the boy deeply. He'd held him close the entire helicopter ride back to the mountain, and hadn't let go of him until he left through the wormhole. To give him another chance at fatherhood, then snatch it away … it would be cruel. Could she do that to him? It was a strike against the abortion possibility.

"But I want you to know," he continued, "that whatever you decide, I'm here for you. Whatever you need."

"Thank you, sir." Sam put her hand on his arm and regained a little bit of her composure. "This has been a huge shock, and I think what I need most right now is a chance to think, figure out what I want."

"Sure. Take the rest of the day off."

"Sir, I don't need—"

"Carter, you've just had a huge shock which could lead to a life-altering decision," he said. "You do need to think things through, and if you go back to your lab, you'll get so wrapped up in studying that gizmo you begged Hammond for that you'll forget to eat, and will probably stay late trying to figure it out." He gave her a quick smile, and she flushed slightly that he knew her so well already. "You won't be thinking about what it is you want to do. A break will do you good. You can come back tomorrow more prepared to tackle this. That's an order."

"Yes, sir," she said, getting up. She rubbed her eyes to get rid of the tears. "Doctor Frasier is talking with the General now, sir. Apparently we're not the only … couple in this situation. Call me if he makes any decisions?"

"Of course." He had stood up with her, and now his hands hung loosely at his sides. He looked kind of confused and very worried.

Sam turned and walked to the door, not looking at him. She had enough confusion and worry herself; she couldn't handle his, too. Not right now.

"And Sam?"

She turned at the sound of her name, with the door half open.

"Call me Jack."