AN: Ok, so there's not much left... probably two more parts after this!

Chapter Nineteen

Jack turned to grin at her with his trademark dopey grin and waggled his eyebrows. "So, what do you say we go make more genetically advanced offspring?"

Carter smiled at him, appreciating his humor for diffusing the tension. "I know all parents think their kids are special, but Cheyenne really is." She giggled. "I wonder if they make annoying bumper stickers that say 'I'm proud of my genetically advanced child.'"

"You should put that on the list for Thor. Bumper stickers." He handed Cheyenne to Carter and stood up, offering Carter his hand to pull her to her feet. "Besides, with your brains and your looks, how could she not be special?"

"What about your looks?" She couldn't stop herself from looking over him suggestively. It was just too much fun to tease him.

He grinned. "So was that a yes to the-" He jerked his thumb toward the hall. But before Carter had the chance to get nervous, he winked at her. "I'm almost finished. Got any ideas for dinner?"

Carter settled Cheyenne in her bassinette. "I was thinking of making something, but then I remembered that I don't particularly want you dead. We could order pizza."

"Sounds good." With that he disappeared back toward the recently swapped guest room and nursery.

By the time the pizza arrived, Carter hadn't heard another peep from Jack. She kept expecting to hear the shower running, but it never came. She slid the pizza into the oven to keep it warm and decided she should check on Jack's progress, considering he'd been at it all day.

"Jack?"

The only response was a pathetic grunted whimper. He was curled up on the floor, looking exactly like he'd doubled over in pain and then fell over without even trying to stop himself.

"What happened? Why didn't you call me?" She knelt down next to him, having to strain to hear his words.

"Hurts to breathe."

"Should I call an ambulance or do you think you just pulled something?"

"Morphine."

She hesitated for a second, thinking he really meant for her to call for help. But she saw the corners of his mouth upturned the slightest bit. "Are you hurt at all or do you just think this is funny?"

"Really hurts."

She folded her arms over her chest and stared at him.

"And it's funny."

She smiled as she stood up, hooking her arms under his shoulders to help him up. "Let's just get you to the bed." She didn't think he could fake the way he whined as he stood or the yelp when she helped him onto the bed. She did most of the work of turning him onto his stomach. "Ok, where's it hurt?"

"Back."

She closed her eyes and shook her head, glad he couldn't see the exasperation on her face. "Yeah, I got that much." She put her hand on his back, just below his neck. "Here?" He grunted something she took as a no and moved her hand lower between his shoulder blades. "Here?" Another grunt. Her hand moved down to his lower back. "Here?" Another grunt, but different. She took it as a yes. She leaned over him, careful not to touch his back, and put her mouth close to his ear. "If this is insurance to get your backrub, I'll have you know there is perfectly good pizza going bad in the kitchen." She watched as he tried to look at her, hindered by both the fact that she was behind him and that his back was sore. He wasn't faking. He wouldn't waste goo pizza. "Ok, if you say so."

She took a deep breath and let out a very quiet sigh. She'd promised herself that she could give him a backrub that wouldn't lead to sex and, with him injured, it very much appeared that was going to be the case. The problem was that she didn't know how to avoid getting turned on by sliding her hands all over his back. Her instincts told her that straddling him was undoubtedly going to get both of them in trouble, so she opted to sit off to the side, letting her hip rest against his. There was no point in being coy about physical contact at that point. She really had no idea what she was doing, but she figured every back rub she'd ever had felt good, even if it was by untrained hands.

Starting with his lower back, she worked her hands into the muscles, rubbing and kneading and, hopefully, helping to loosen the one that he'd pulled. He didn't flinch or scream, so she decided she was doing a good job. She glanced up at his face and saw that his eyes were closed. It made her smile to know that her hands were relaxing him, that her touch was making him feel good. It made her feel powerful. And particularly humble. She couldn't figure out why she was so special as to hold such a wonderful man's heart in her hands. She realized she needed to be more careful with it in the future; she'd already hurt him without intending to.

Her hands gradually moved up, exploring every inch of his skin that she could feasibly work into the context of a massage. She noticed he didn't complain the slightest bit, not when her hands drifted along his sides or across his neck. Not even when her pretense of a massage disappeared and her hands simply caressed his strong shoulders.

"Please don't ever stop doing that." His voice startled her; she'd thought he'd fallen asleep.

She couldn't keep the smile off her face. "You like that, huh?"

"You're a miracle worker."

"Good to know I'm not entirely useless." Her hands continued their possessive journey along his shoulders and she wondered how he would react if her lips followed the same path. He would react favorably, she realized, probably rolling over and repaying her eagerly. She pushed the idea aside and decided to let the peace settle between them a little bit before she stirred that pot back up.

"I never said you were useless, Carter. You're just a little inept at childcare."

"I'm trying."

"And cooking."

"Got me there."

"But you so make up for it with backrubs." The smile on his face reflected in his voice.

"You forgot relationships. I'm entirely useless in relationships." Her hands stilled, resting lightly on his sides.

"Relationships are messy. If you were good at messy, you'd be better at the cooking thing."

She smiled, knowing he understood her and the bizarre dance she'd been doing towards him. "That's why I like science. The only time numbers are messy is when you don't understand them and then you learn them and they're not messy anymore." She took a deep breath. "How's your back?"

"Better. Thank you." He shifted slightly, rolling onto his side away from her.

"You should sleep with a heating pad to make sure it doesn't tense up during the night." Only one of her hands was still in contact with him and she wished she didn't have to break it. "I'll go get you one."

"I've got a better idea." He reached back, snagging her hand from his side and pulling it forward until she stretched out along his back. "Heating pads are fire hazards."

She tucked her face over his shoulder, trying not to be overwhelmed by how perfect it felt to hold him. "Right and fire hazards are bad."

"Very bad."

"And we have a baby."

"Exactly why fire hazards are bad."

She grinned as his fingers laced through hers. "And you said you weren't a smart guy."

"You know-" He pulled her hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss onto her fingers. "A little messiness never hurt anyone, Carter."

The muffled sound of a baby's cries woke Carter some time later. She was thoroughly confused at first. She didn't know where she was, who she was with, or who was crying. But reality dawned on her quickly. She immediately placed the smell that surrounded her, the intoxicating scent that could only belong to Jack O'Neill. As soon as she realized who he was, the rest of it fell back into place.

She instantly felt guilty for leaving Cheyenne alone in the living room. But she figured that Cheyenne had just woken up, since Jack appeared to be coming around too. A smile spread across her face when she saw that her hand was still tangled in his. "I'll get her, Jack. Go back to sleep." She tried to sit up and found that he wasn't releasing her hand. "Jack?"

He rolled onto his back and smiled at her. "Come back."

"Cheyenne is crying."

He nodded and Carter decided he was as adorable sleepy as he thought she was frazzled. "I know that. When she's settled, come back."

"Oh." She realized what he was asking and although she hadn't put any thought into it until he mentioned it, she knew she probably would have opted for her bed when she eventually did think about it. "Ok."

Falling asleep in bed with him unplanned was one thing. She could rationalize that to herself. But choosing, wide awake, to crawl back in bed with him, well, that was another thing altogether.

As she changed Cheyenne and fed her, Carter realized it had to have been a much bigger thing for Jack to brave asking her. She set a sleeping Cheyenne back in her bassinette a few minutes later, switched off the oven, and put the untouched pizza in the refrigerator. Then she picked up the blanket from the hallway where Jack had left it before he'd hurt his back, and slipped back into the guest room.

She stood at the edge of the bed, trying to make out his features in the darkness. He'd drifted back to sleep in the time she was gone and she didn't want to disturb him. That was the excuse she used as she tiptoed backwards toward the door. She hadn't been lying about not liking messy things and their relationship was as messy as they got. He was still her CO and that thought scared her.

Her hip connected with the dresser as she backed up, sending the screw driver rolling loudly across the surface. She grabbed it, silencing the racket. She peeked at the bed.

"Carter?" His eyes opened, squinting until they fell on her. "Come here." His arm stretched across the empty place beside him. She couldn't resist. She didn't want to.

She stepped forward once again, spreading the blanket over them as she curled into his chest. His arm came around her shoulders and he muttered something she didn't hear into her hair. "Good night, Jack."

"Night, baby."

She smiled against his chest. Their relationship didn't seem so messy anymore. It seemed exceedingly clean and simple, easy to understand, impossible to ignore.