AN: Johann, in real life, people who are uncertain in their relationships make a hell of a lot of angst for themselves, often over nothing. Trust me, I know this from experience listening to friends of both sexes talk about their love life. And my friends have a lot less baggage and a lot less dramatic circumstances to angst about. Often the drama in a relationship happens because one or both of the people in the relationship (usually, but not always, the guy) doesn't want to talk about anything serious for one reason or another. The baby in this case raises the pressure but doesn't necessarily make them more likely to talk. It may be perfectly obvious to you me, and everyone else on God's green earth that sitting down and talking rationally about the issues involved and how they feel about them will take care of most of the major problems in one fell swoop (or at least break them down into manageable pieces), but the couple themselves can't see that. Or are too afraid to face it. It won't go on forever, but that doesn't help them in the mean time. Please remember also that it hasn't actually been that long since Sam found out she was pregnant; a week or two, at most.

Jack hung his cap up in his locker and began methodically removing everything from his pockets, carefully not looking at the old cigar box full of memories stashed at the bottom of the locker. His pants just needed to be laundered, but the rest of the outfit was a total write-off—when the Nox had brought them back to life, they hadn't troubled themselves to mend their clothing.

"Hey, Jack," Daniel said opening the locker to his right and beginning the same process.

"Daniel." It was an acknowledgement of the other man's presence, no more; surely it wasn't too much to hope that even the talkative (and pushy) younger man would notice that Jack Wanted to be Left Alone?

"You got kinda quiet there towards the end of the mission," Daniel continued, oblivious to his Garbo routine, or at least pretending to be. Apparently, it was too much to hope for. "Is anything bothering you?"

"I'm fine."

"You sure about that?" Daniel asked. "Because, I mean, if you need to talk about anything, I'm always available."

Jack finished going through his pockets and closed the locker, stripping off his clothes and tossing them into the laundry hamper. Maybe if he ignored the archaeologist, he'd get the hint and go away. It wasn't likely, but it was better than nothing.

"I know Sam's needed someone to talk to the last few days—it's kind of overwhelming, what you two are going through."

Jack very carefully did not grind his teeth together as he finished shucking his clothing. He didn't want to hear about just how Daniel was comforting Sam, but any reaction would reveal more than he wanted to show. Burying his emotions deeply was an old habit, one that had stood him well before.

"And I can't imagine this is any easier for you," the archaeologist continued. He sounded frustrated. Good. "So I'm here, if you need me." And tired; Jack was hit with a twinge of conscience. The guy had traded his life for Jack's back on the first Abydos mission, and after the second one Jack had given him a place to stay and a shoulder to cry on (figuratively, of course—as far as Jack knew, Daniel had never actually cried about Sha're's kidnapping). All he wanted was to return the favor; he hadn't done anything to deserve the cold shoulder.

"I'm fine, Daniel," Jack heard himself say. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm fine." He grabbed his towel and headed for the shower.

Behind him he heard Teal'c's bass rumble. "I do not believe O'Neill wishes to talk at this time, Daniel Jackson. Perhaps at a later time he might be more responsive."

Sam wandered around the base looking for Jack. Daniel had stopped by her lab after the mission debriefing, but the colonel had not. True to form he wasn't in his office; however, he wasn't in Daniel's office, the commissary, or Teal'c's quarters, either. Finally she tracked him down in the base rec room, teaching Teal'c the fine art of ping-pong.

"Hey," she said, announcing her presence.

"Sam," Jack responded shortly, keeping his eyes on the game.

"Captain Carter," Teal'c said, also focused.

She watched them hit the ball back and forth in a comfortable rhythm. "Having fun?"

"Indeed," Teal'c replied.

Jack ignored her, frowning at the ball as if it were a Jaffa patrol. Well, maybe he just got really involved in his games. Mark was like that; forget talking with him when he was playing pool or foosball. Anything not game related went in one ear and out the other without ever stopping to be recognized.

"How'd the mission go?" she asked. "I hear from Daniel that the Nox are interesting people. Too bad they don't want to talk to us. I bet we could learn a lot from them."

"Yeah," Jack said.

After watching them for a few more minutes, Sam shrugged to herself. Boys and their toys. "Jack, you busy tonight?"

"No."

"I was thinking we could maybe have dinner together, again." She glanced at Teal'c, then back at Jack. The alien was minding his own business, attention solely on the game.

"Sure."

"Where would you like to go?" Sam asked, trying and failing to keep her exasperation with his one-word answers out of her voice. It really was Mark all over again! Oddly enough, she found the terseness kind of reassuring. Jonas had had a dark side, and occasionally had been strange, but he'd always loved the sound of his own voice. She'd been frightening herself over nothing. Whatever issues Jack had, he was not Jonas. The fact that one spec-ops boyfriend had gone nuts did not mean that this one was going to. Holy Hannah. Was the colonel her boyfriend? Well, what else would you call it—they were arranging to meet for their second date.

"Anywhere is fine. O'Malley's is good."

At least it was more than one word. Since she hadn't been in town long enough to have much idea what the options were … "O'Malley's is fine with me. Say, 1930 hours?"

"I'll be there."

Sam gave him a tight smile. "See you there.

Jack strode through the doors of O'Malley's at 1932 that evening. He pulled off his shades—snow glare was a bitch, and the first storm of the season had happened while he was holed up in the mountain. Captain Sam Carter was waiting for him; he wasn't surprised. "Hey," he said as he slid into her booth.

"Hey," she replied. "Look, Jack, I wanted to apologize for what I said in Hammond's office a couple days ago."

Jack felt his features freeze up. And what a lovely little conversation that had been. Interesting view into Sam's priorities, there.

"I should probably explain about where I was coming from," Sam continued despite his lack of reaction. "My question, at the end. I'm not planning on having an abortion, just so you know," she said. "And I probably wouldn't be planning one even if neither you nor Hammond had a problem with me being on the team afterwards. I'm not really comfortable with the idea of abortion as a form of birth control, though I do think that it's a valid choice for women in different circumstances."

'Not comfortable.' 'Solution' to a 'problem.' Jack looked down at his water glass and wished it was something stronger. Oh, yeah, she'd make a great mom. He opened his menu.

"It's just, I tend to approach all problems like one of my equations or an experiment."

Really racking up the brownie points, there, Sam, Jack noted sourly. This is supposed to be an apology? He closed the menu and shoved it aside; he didn't need to read it. He'd been here enough times before. A single man who disliked cooking as much as he did got to know all the restaurants in the area well.

"I need to know all the variables and all the possible outcomes before I make a decision. No matter how unlikely it is I'll choose that particular outcome. I hope there's no hard feelings?"

A baby's life was a 'variable.' Perfect. "No, it's fine, Sam," he said.

The waitress stepped up and they ordered. Jack ordered a whisky chaser for his beer, this time around. If the conversation kept up like this, he was going to need it. He had no missions scheduled for the next few days (the next couple of weeks, actually, and he really hoped Carter could speed up the computer program that spit out new addresses). He could take a cab home if he needed to; wouldn't be the first time.

"I've been thinking about what you said, about custody," Sam said once the waitress had left. Did she ever shut up? "I don't think it's necessary for you to give up your career, or anything drastic. Since I'm going to be on … around here more, it only makes sense that I have primary custody. You'd be welcome any time, of course, and I'm sure we could work out an arrangement we could both live with. I don't think this will work if we're both active members of SG teams; that's too much traveling and too much stress and too many risks. I'd still like to go on missions as much as possible, though. We'll have time to work this out over the next few months. I'm sure we can come up with something that we can both live with. Of course, all this is subject to change once the baby actually gets here. Do you have any particular concerns about custody?"

Didn't the woman ever shut up? Sara had liked to talk, but it wasn't this unending stream. And she'd known when to let him be. God, he missed her. He still turned around expecting to see her, sometimes, when he was out around town. Shit. What was he going to tell her about Sam and the baby? Colorado Springs wasn't that big a town, and most of it was military. Most of Sara's friends had been wives of his buddies and teammates. She was bound to hear about this sooner or later, and he owed it to her to tell her himself. She'd be devastated. They'd tried for years to have another child after Charlie. "No, not really," he said.