Chapter Seven

Carter's attention was completely focused on the baby all the way home. But when the truck slowed to a stop, she looked up to discover they were a block away from her house. "Jack?"

"What the-"

Carter didn't want to acknowledge that Jack apparently couldn't remember where she lived, but it appeared she didn't have much of a choice. "Sir?"

"Maybe we should go to my place."

Carter followed Jack's stare up the block to the group of neighbors standing outside her house. It was alarming because not only was Carter an exceptionally private person who liked to keep to herself, but also because she had never interacted with her neighbors even once in all the time she'd lived in her house. "What's going on?"

Jack slowly turned to look at her, sheer dread on his face. "Are you blind?"

Carter looked again, wondering how she'd missed it the first time. The neighbors hadn't just decided to gather around her house for the hell of it. No. They were looking at the world's most obnoxious display of new arrival paraphernalia ever assembled in one place. There were streamers everywhere, which Carter had every intention of leaving there until nature cleaned them up. At least three different cardboard storks attached to stakes were driven into her perfect lawn. A mass of what she eventually determined to be silly string had been sprayed all over every surface that wasn't covered in pink streamers and even many that were. She whimpered. It was exactly a low-key person's nightmare and her friends had been kind enough to provide it for her.

Jack looked at her again and she could only shrug. It had been a long day and she was looking forward to going to bed early, provided Jack was planning on staying to watch the baby. She wasn't feeling up to a trip across town to Jack's place.

She smiled at his blatant distaste and at the string of curses she could only imagine were lighting through his mind. "You know, if you hadn't been with me, I would have thought you were behind this."

"Admittedly, Carter, I'm a big fan of practical jokes," He inched the truck closer to her house, waiting for the throng of neighbors to move aside before he pulled into the driveway. "I would, however, never stoop to mortifying myself."

"Maybe we can stay in the truck until they go away."

Jack looked at her with an inquisitive glance. "Aren't these people your friends?"

Carter shook her head. "I don't know any of them. I'm not here that much and when I am, I'm certainly not out making nice with the neighbors."

Jack pulled the key from the ignition and let out a long sigh. "I bet you wish you'd listened to me when I told you to start work on a teleportation device."

"If I promise to never openly mock you again, sir, can we please go back in time and fix that little mistake?"

Jack just grinned at her as he climbed out of the truck, looking every bit the proud papa as he escorted Carter and their daughter into the house.

Normally, Carter would have offered to help Jack with all eight million packages their friends had purchased, but she didn't want to leave the baby alone long enough to run out to the truck and back. Besides, she decided it wasn't necessary since four of her neighbors were more than happy to provide additional assistance.

Carter didn't spend too much time dwelling on the packages rapidly filling the living room. As Jack was unloading the truck and making nice with the neighbors she'd never given the time of day to, Carter was having a quiet breakdown. She was afraid the room was too cold or too hot or too bright or too dark or too loud or too something. She was in full-on panic mode when the neighbors finally left and Jack started assembling the bassinette. Of course, Carter's panic was silent and Jack had no idea.

Carter had heard numerous stories from her parents about what an amazing baby she had been. She hadn't cried or fussed or made life the least bit difficult for them. Carter looked at her daughter, who was wide awake and staring up at her silently, and prayed that her child would be the same way. Carter reached out, letting her baby's tiny hand wrap around her finger. She was overwhelmed with emotion at that moment. She'd never imagined loving anything so much.

"Damn it!" A loud clang followed Jack's exclamation as the screw driver fell to the floor, narrowly missing his face. He sat up, his finger in his mouth, nursing both a cut and seriously injured pride.

Carter looked at him sharply, feeling a fierce protectiveness rising up to match the love she'd felt. "Watch your mouth!"

Jack looked at her wide eyed for a moment, obviously weighing the possible outcomes of reprimanding her. In the end, he let it slide. "Sorry."

He abandoned the bassinette and disappeared into the kitchen. Carter wondered if she should apologize or check to see if he was mad, but she didn't want to take her eyes off the baby. Rationally she knew the baby wasn't going anywhere and they'd both hear her if she started to cry, but Carter couldn't move. She knew what it was like to look around and discover no one was paying any attention to her. And even though she'd later learned that it was a vote of confidence that she was mature enough to amuse herself without hurting herself or someone else, she knew it had hurt for a long time. She didn't want her baby to learn that feeling of disappointment; certainly not so soon.

Jack returned from the kitchen with a bottle in his hand and barely glanced at Carter as he scooped the baby up into his arms. "Are you hungry? You look hungry." He cradled her gently in one arm, holding the bottle with the other hand. The baby closed her eyes, settling in happily for her dinner. Jack put his feet up on the coffee table and finally looked at Carter. "Where's the remote?"

Disappointed in both of them for not needing her more, she nearly threw the remote at him. She only stopped herself at the last minute for fear it would somehow hurt the baby. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Ok." Jack's attention was glued to the news and Carter stalked off, upset at herself for being upset.

When she returned, she felt much better, especially when she saw that both the baby and Jack had dozed off in front of the TV. She sat down next to Jack on the couch, taking note of the way his arm held the baby tightly even in his sleep. She leaned close, marveling at the audacity she found.

"Jack, wake up."

His eyes blinked open immediately, just like she'd expected. But his expression was startled from seeing her so close, probably from seeing her in the skimpy, tight tank top she slept in when she was home, and mostly, from the baby still sleeping in his arms. She watched him for the millisecond it took his brain to process what had happened. Then he smiled at her. "Hey, Carter." He glanced at his watch. "Is it morning?"

She smiled and busied herself with staring at the baby, trying to hide the fact that she had no compelling reason for waking him. "If you get a kink in your neck, you're not going to be able to paint in the morning."

He chuckled softly, mindful not to wake the baby. "Oh, so now I'm painting?"

Carter leaned back on the couch, pretending not to notice Jack's appreciative stare. "Well, now that I've got a man trapped here, I figure you can paint and fix the squeaky step on the back porch and fix the garage door and maybe even discover why the refrigerator makes that horrid noise when I open the door."

Jack looked confused. "Aren't you perfectly capable of doing all that?"

Carter grinned, happy that Jack's attention had been drawn to the bare patch of skin on her belly when she stretched. "Yes, but I never get around to it, and I've learned that it's never a bad thing to stroke a man's ego."

Jack sighed. "I guess. If that's the only thing you're offering to stroke."

"Jack!" She nearly jumped off the couch in surprise.

He only laughed as he settled the baby in the bassinette. "Two can play that game, Carter."

She looked at him with her best innocent stare. "What game?"

He winked at her. "I'm beat, Carter. Where am I supposed to sleep?"

Ignoring the question since answering it would inevitably leave her alone with a baby which she had no clue how to care for, she warily eyed the bassinette. "Are you sure that's put together?"

He looked at it. "It's standing up, isn't it? Close enough."

She was on her feet in a second, leaning over the baby without the slightest clue of what to do if the furniture fell apart in front of her.

Jack laughed to himself. "Yes, Carter, it's put together. She's safe. I promise."

Carter glanced between Jack and the baby several times before she decided he wouldn't kid about the infant's safety. "Thank you."

"So, bed?"

Her eyes met his. Her mouth dropped open. Her heart pounded in her chest. She couldn't believe he was being so bold, so outright, so… She couldn't believe he was laughing.

"I meant for me, Carter."

She closed her eyes and wondered if it was too late to kick him out. Millions and millions of women had raised children without Jack O'Neill around to help them. "I knew that."

"I assume you'd expect dinner first."

She grabbed the closest thing she saw and hurled it at him. He ducked the rattle easily and it flew noisily down the hall.

"I hope she doesn't inherit your temper, Carter."

She folded her arms across her chest, knowing full well that, considering her position on the couch in front of him, it would give him a very nice view of her cleavage - something she never got the opportunity to use against him in her standard issue SGC t-shirts. "You'll be lucky if you don't wind up sleeping in the truck at this point."

It took him a long time to drag his eyes up to her face and when he finally did, they were dark with passion. Unfortunately, his mind was having too much fun teasing her to flirt. "Are you sure you're not Irish? Cause you certainly have an Irish temper."

Quite displeased that her cleavage torture hadn't had the desired effect, she got up and stomped into the kitchen for something to drink. "Leave me alone."

A minute later, his voice came from the doorway behind her. "So did you want me to leave?" He sounded unsure, nervous.

She turned around and shook her head. "Spare bedroom. Second door on the left."

"Night, Carter."

"Jack?" An overpowering panic filled her at the notion of being alone with the baby. "What if she wakes up?"

He turned around, halfway down the hall and smiled what would have been an irritatingly condescending smile if he hadn't been so damn cute. "She's three days old, Carter. She'll wake up."

Carter peered over the counter, checking to make sure the baby was still sleeping. "What if she starts crying?" Just because she hadn't yet didn't mean it wouldn't happen the minute Jack wasn't there.

Jack snickered. "She's three days old, Carter. She'll start crying."

"So what do I do?" She didn't care how ridiculous she looked - she didn't want to traumatize her daughter while she tried to look up ways to comfort a crying baby on Google.

"Pick her up."

She wanted to strangle him. If it were that easy, there was no explanation for all the kids she'd heard crying in public. "And then what?" Directions. She needed directions. She could do anything if someone pointed her in the right direction.

"Sing to her. Rock her." He shrugged and then winked at her once again. "You're a smart woman. You'll figure something out." And then he disappeared without another word.

Consequences.7