AN: Ok, so there's only one more part after this (should be, at least). Please leave a comment if you like it!

Chapter Twenty

It was a delicious smell that woke her in the morning. She was a bit disappointed that she was alone in bed, but she rationalized that they'd made great strides in their relationship already and it was probably better not to push too hard too fast. She headed out to the kitchen and found Jack assembling a large stack of pancakes. Her stomach growled loudly, drawing Jack's attention and causing her cheeks to flush.

"Morning." He continued pouring batter into the pan and Carter wondered who was going to eat all eight million pancakes he was in the process of making.

"I'm starving."

He grinned. "Chocolate chip, just for you. Dig in."

She moved several of them onto her plate. "Just for me and ten of my closest friends?"

"We didn't eat dinner last night. I'm starving too."

"And just whose fault was that?" She didn't look up as she poured syrup on her plate.

His hands came down on her shoulders and his cheek pressed against hers. "It was worth it."

She rolled her eyes, trying to hide how unglued his proximity made her feel. "Maybe for you."

He took the last of the pancakes off the stove and sat down across from her, piling an absurd number of pancakes onto his plate. Apparently, he was ten of her closest friends. "Then I'll have to reciprocate so you can see just how nice it was."

She swallowed hard, coughing and taking a sip of water. From the way he'd said it, it didn't seem like he was trying to flirt with her, but the words were inherently flirtatious. If he was giving the backrub, he would be in control of the situation, just the was she had been in control the previous night. Nervous butterflies took up residence in her stomach. Then she started to smile. She trusted him. Completely. "If you insist."

He grinned smugly. "Oh, I do." With that decision made, they both quietly went back their breakfast.

Carter was actually impressed at how many of the pancakes Jack consumed. She was disgusted by how many of them she ate. She stood up, wishing she'd thought better of the third helping. "I'm going to go for a run."

"I'd join you, but I ate too much." Jack got as far as the couch before he collapsed. "I'll just wait here."

Carter changed her clothes and walked back to the living room. Jack was channel-surfing, something she'd discovered was a particular favorite pastime of his, and he had Cheyenne planted on his chest for a nap. On her way out the door, she passed the stroller they hadn't bothered to assemble yet. Grinning, she dragged it to the living room and opened the box. She wasn't that sold on running and with Cheyenne's assistance, she could excuse going for a leisurely walk instead.

Jack glanced at her. "Lazy."

She grinned and started scattering stroller parts on the floor around her. "One run is hardly going to make the difference, considering the way you're feeding me."

He grinned, quite proud of his talent in the kitchen. "There was no beer in the pancakes, so they should count as low-cal."

She laughed as she started piecing the stroller together. "Well, then, I can count the walk toward dinner, right?"

He shifted Cheyenne around until he could lie flat. "Just don't expect me to go with you."

"And I probably shouldn't expect you to help with this either."

He sat up immediately, his guilty expression in place. "I'm sorry."

She looked up at him, rolling her eyes. "I was kidding, Jack."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." She showed him the pieces she's already fit in place. "It's no problem."

"You're really sure?" He watched her nod. "This isn't some kind of a trick, is it?"

She smirked. "You need to save your strength."

His guilt transformed into confusion and then dread. "Why? You're not going to make me paint something else, are you?"

She shook her head. "You owe me a backrub."

He grinned and settled back on the couch. "How could I forget?"

She worked on the stroller for a few minutes, having to retrieve the screw driver Jack had left on the dresser in his room to attach the wheels. "How's your back today?"

"It's perfect."

"Seriously. Is it bothering you?" She'd been worried about hurting him further; she hadn't actually expected to cure anything.

"Really. It's like new."

"I'm good." She grinned at him.

He winked. "I think the warm compress made all the difference."

Her face was burning when she turned back to the stroller. That man could do things to her heart rate and blood pressure she knew Janet wouldn't approve of. Luckily, the finishing touches on the stroller ate up all of her attention for several minutes. Once it was together, she snatched Cheyenne right off Jack's chest. "We're going for a walk."

He frowned. "She was keeping me warm!"

Carter shook her head. "There's no way this tiny thing was keeping you warm. Get a blanket."

Jack ignored her advice, instead pulling one of the throw pillows onto his chest and hugging it. "It's not as good as Cheyenne."

"Now who's lazy?"

Jack grinned up at her. "I'm not being lazy. I'm conserving energy for your back rub."

"By all means, then, carry on! We'll be back in a little while."

"Have fun." He didn't even open his eyes.

She'd never been much bigger on walking than running. When it came down to it, she actually preferred to run because she felt like she accomplished more in the same amount of time. But taking a walk with Cheyenne was different. The world seemed newer.

There was a park a few blocks away and she headed there. She took Cheyenne out of the stroller and starting pointing out objects to her daughter. She wished Jack was there as Cheyenne tested out the feel of grass, gurgling happily all the while. Having a baby certainly made things more fun. She let herself talk in a silly baby voice, making exaggerated faces and entertaining herself as much as she was Cheyenne.

As she was settling Cheyenne back in the stroller to go home, she nearly got hit by a runaway Frisbee. She looked up with a smile, expecting an apologetic kid. Instead, she got Michael.

Michael was a dead ringer for David James Elliot and, if plied with alcohol, Carter would admit to Janet, and Janet alone, that was the only reason she'd agreed to go out with him. But Michael's good looks didn't make up for the staggering lack of conversation skills. Two dreadful hours into a date where she'd learned far more than she ever wanted to know about the exciting world of financial consulting, she swore she would never again go out with a man simply because he was nice to look at. Of course, that date had been little more than those two painful hours and several years earlier. She was sure Michael, whose last name escaped her entirely, had forgotten all about her because she expected he'd probably had at least five hundred dates since then. Sadly, she'd only been on two others in the five years since Michael, so she was sure she should have been able to recall his name.

"Samantha?" Michael, who hated to be called Mike, firmly believed in calling everyone by their full name, regardless of their feelings on the subject.

She closed her eyes, praying for a moment of strength, and handed over his toy. "Michael, I didn't recognize you for a minute there." She despised being called Samantha. She'd been Sam ever since she could talk. Except for Jack, of course. Although he'd probably only said it twice in the whole time she'd known him, and probably only then in the context of introducing her to someone, she loved it when he called her Samantha. Although something about his voice convinced her she'd love anything he called her.

Michael, she remembered a moment too late, was extremely gregarious and very hands-on. He wrapped her in a tight hug, nearly lifting her off the ground. "How are you? What have you been up to?"

She wasn't about to make up five years worth of lies about what she did for a living. So she distracted him, waving her hand over the stroller. "This is Cheyenne."

Michael's eyes lit up. "Wow! Isn't she just precious!" Without invitation, he reached into the sanctity of Cheyenne's stroller and scooped the infant up, holding her up in the air. "You're just the spitting image of your mother, aren't you?" He winked conspiratorily at Carter. "You'd better watch out. She's going to be a heartbreaker like you!"

Carter's horrified face should have warned him to put Cheyenne right back down, but Michael had never been one to notice much beyond himself. He shook the girl in what Carter considered a rough fashion and made faces at her. Cheyenne's eyes were open wide, regarding the man for only a second before she opened up her mouth and started screaming.

Carter used the distraction to reach for her, pulling her safely into her arms. "Michael, she's only a couple weeks old. She's not used to strangers." She didn't know why she was bothering with excuses; she kind of wanted to scream in terror too. Cheyenne refused to be calmed. "I should get her home. She's not used to so much excitement."

"Let me walk you home!" He threw the Frisbee back at the group which was waiting for him. "I'm going to walk my girls home!"

Carter looked down at Cheyenne and wondered if maybe the misery on her face was why Cheyenne was so upset. She figured the best thing to do was to get Cheyenne home as soon as possible. "No, really, Michael, it's fine. Stay with your friends. I'll see you around." She tucked Cheyenne back into the stroller and started walking, thoroughly irritated when Michael fell in step beside her.

"What if you need protection?" He smiled a smile Carter was sure got him a lot, but it wasn't going to get him anything with her. In fact, the more she looked at him, the more she wondered how she'd ever been attracted to him.

"I'm completely capable of defending myself." She'd kick anyone's ass who tried to touch Cheyenne. She was toying with the idea of kicking Michael's to demonstrate.

"Right, I forgot, you don't like chivalry." He was undoubtedly, Carter imagined, referring to the way she'd jumped out of his car and ran into the house before he had the chance to open the door for her.

She glared at him. "I don't respect anything useless." When Jack was chivalrous, however, that was a different story. He did it to be thoughtful and to show her that he saw her as more than a military officer and a scientist. She liked that he noticed she was a woman too. Michael just did it to prove that he was a man.

"How about if I'm just being nice?"

Unfortunately, Carter had been raised to be polite and she always fell back on that when she ran out of ideas for getting rid of someone. She gritted her teeth and looked down at her inconsolable daughter. "Then I guess there's nothing wrong with that, but you shouldn't feel like it's necessary."

Michael grinned happily at his victory. "It's no problem at all, Samantha."

Even more unfortunately, Jack had grown bored with the TV and was sitting on the porch steps waiting for Carter and Cheyenne to return. The dark look in his eyes when Carter noticed him let her know that he had seen her companion much earlier and that he wasn't happy. She pushed the stroller up to the steps as Jack stood.

"Michael, this is my- uh-" Words utterly failed her at that moment.

Jack thrust his hand out, smiling the fakest smile Carter had ever seen. "Jack. Nice to meet you."

Michael's face was less successful in hiding his unhappiness, but he tried to smile as he shook the proffered hand. "Yeah, you too. I'll see you around, Samantha."

Carter didn't even get a chance to respond before Michael practically ran back down the street. She smiled at Jack. "Thank you for getting rid of him."

Jack's eyes fixed her with a cold stare. "What the hell was that?"

"What?" She shrugged, having enough sense not to mention the date she'd been on with Michael. "He's a guy I know. He insisted on walking me home. I haven't even seen him in years."

He reached down, scooping Cheyenne, whose cries had turned into a wail, into his arms. "Do not use my daughter to pick up guys."

"Jack! That's ridiculous!" Carter wasn't even sure why she should dispute that statement, since according to every woman she'd ever met who was single and had children, the presence of children was not an aphrodisiac. "Men do that with dogs. Not women with babies."

He didn't respond. Unless she counted walking into the house and slamming the door a response.