TITLE: Ladder of Life

AUTHORS: Divine Joker and Tricia Byrne

EMAILS: PG-13

SUMMARY:Their solution for saving mankind just got a little more complicated.

SPOILERS: Eps? None… You might want to read the previous entries to this series: 'Darwinian Theory' and 'Missing Link' to fully comprehend our twisted musings.

CATEGORY: S/J romance, angst (sorta)

DISCLAIMER: You know, really, it's all the crazy UST that TPTB put in the show that puts this stuff into our heads. And even if we don't own them, at least this way we can think that we do. They aren't ours because they belong to RDA and AT and all those other wonderful people who bring them to life.

A/N from Tricia: Thanks to Dee and Aud for everything, you guys are the best. Also, loads of thanks to Divine Joker for letting me join in on the fun - bet you didn't think the road would be this long either. Also, thanks to everyone who gave us feedback on the last part. If it weren't for all of you my muse wouldn't have run away and come back with some interesting ideas… am still wondering where some of this came from.

A/N from DJ: It's like jumping from the frying pan into the fire and the pain never ends. Nah, it's been great and the feedback has been exceptional too. I'm starting to wish that my muse would run away, but Tricia seems to have locked it up somewhere and keeps giving her back to me. Thanks to Tricia for the wonderful ideas and the Venom (I wanna talk again soon!).

(( ))

Samantha Carter stopped her pacing and sat down on the closed toilet seat, looking at her watch for what must have been the twentieth time in under two minutes. This was the longest three minutes of her entire life.

She rubbed her hands over her face, her elbows resting on her knees. It wasn't possible. It wasn't. It couldn't be. It would mean the end of everything. Everything she'd worked for. Everything she'd accomplished.

Taking a deep breath she looked at her watch, again. Three minutes. It was up. All she had to do now was look.

She glanced out of the corner of her eye at the paper towel on the countertop, knowing what was beneath it. She had needed something there to stop herself from staring at the stick for every single of the one hundred and eighty seconds that were needed.

She stood up and moved over to it, taking another deep, steadying breath.

Here goes, nothing….

She watched as if from another body as her hand extended to the white piece of rough paper. She paused above it, and Sam had a horrified flash of the answer.

Just what did she want?

Images of little boys with brown eyes and teasing smiles overlapped the other desire of… nothing. But not really nothing. She did want this; if she was totally and entirely honest with herself she wanted Jack's child. Now, as her hand settled on the towel and felt the irregular contours of the test, a little spark of hope and desire burst into flame

Her hand trembled slightly as she removed the towel, her eyes closed tightly as she tried to steady her breathing. Bracing herself against the countertop she slowly opened her eyes.

Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening at the sight of the two blue lines before her.

Oh, my God.

She picked up the stick, thinking that if she looked at it closer she could see the error in it. There must be some mistake. What about Jolinar? What about her body chemistry? What about all of the reasons that Janet had listed over the years of why it might be difficult for her to conceive?

She knew, though, that there was no mistake. That this was real. It had happened. Almost two and a half months ago, it had happened. They had made a choice. They had both wanted this.

Sinking back down to the cold porcelain of the toilet seat she looked briefly at her stomach. Her increased appetite, the funny twinges, her overly emotional state lately. How could she have not known for sure? Her hand ran idly over the tight form of her tank top. She still wanted this. How could she be absolutely certain that he did?

She closed her eyes and took another calming breath. The images of little boys grew firmer and danced tauntingly in her head. She could imagine them with such clarity. They were so real… they would be real.

And the look in his eyes; the absolute assuredness of his decision still lingered in the back of her mind. He might have been certain then.

And really, she thought as she hauled herself to her feet, there's only on way to know for sure. Seeming to possess a courage that went beyond her understanding, Sam left the safety of the washroom and went out into the hall.

Steadying her breathing, she grabbed the cordless on her way to the couch and punched in a few numbers on automatic as she settled uncomfortably into the sofa.

"Hey, it's me…" she said as soon as he answered. "We need to talk."

She clicked the button on the cordless and held it to her chest. What was she going to say to him?

'Oh, hi, honey, remember that wonderful, fantastic night almost three months ago when we decided to save humanity in a different way? Well, it worked…'

Definitely didn't seem to cut it. Not to mention the fact that no matter how close they got - and they definitely were close now - she would never call him 'honey'.

What would he say? This was what he'd wanted, but would he be happy now that he had it?

The loose ends of the afghan that she'd draped over her lap were quickly becoming entangled in her fingers. When had she picked up his habit of fiddling when she was nervous?

Would their child have these habits?

Their child.

Wow.

The thought seemed foreign but comforting to her.

Her thoughts came to a crashing halt with the strong, steady knock at her door.

(( ))

Jack's thumbs beat nervously against the steering wheel. The words that he had absolutely dreaded since they all began had come. 'We need to talk.'

Two and a half months ago every fantasy that he'd had in the past six years had come true. The time since then had been a nightmare. Missions, and work, and experiments that kept her late. They'd hardly had a chance to talk privately, never mind see each other.

The casual glances, the faint touches, all the little signs that he'd relied on in the past were still there. He'd been sure that everything had been fine between them.

Now, he could feel it all slipping away. And once again he'd been oblivious to it all.

Sara had left him a note on the counter while he was off on the first Abydos mission. Now Sam would at least look him in the eye and tell him it was over. That their night together had been a mistake.

He expected nothing less from her.

And truly, how could expect anything more? The woman was damned brilliant, with an amazing career and a future of unheralded adventures. Why would she leave it all for him? However, he had known since the beginning of seducing her that he was selfish when it came to Samantha Carter: nothing short of everything would satisfy him.

He couldn't seriously expect her to accept that, could he?

As much as work had kept them from each other lately, he had tried to display himself to her, tried to keep that door open so that she wouldn't run screaming. While she might be doing it anyway, he hoped it for a reason other than she didn't love him.

He pulled to a stop before her house and looked forlornly into the lit living room. He could picture her sitting on her couch, her legs folded up under her as she waited for him. How could she look so casual as she was about to break his heart?

Now he was cursing his luck even before it played out. He jerked open the door and headed up the walk. His frustration at not knowing what was going to happen or how he could stop what he thought was going to happen almost made his blood run thinner in his veins.

His head of steam lasted until he had knocked on the door and then the reality of the very near future came crashing down on him in a truly frightening way.

Would she really be saying goodbye?

Could he pre-empt her talk?

Could he tell her…

The door swung open on well-oiled hinges to reveal Sam standing before him in blue flannel pajama bottoms and a white tank top… under which she wore no bra. He blinked belatedly as he realized that he had just once-over-ed her from her feet up.

God, he was such a pig.

He was about to get dumped and his mouth was watering at the sight of her.

She stepped aside, giving him room to enter without so much as a word. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, his head slightly down. God, he must look like hell.

He stepped into her living room, running a hand through his hair. Absently, he thought that he needed to get it cut.

She moved around him to curl herself up on the couch, pulling an afghan over her legs.

Damn, this couldn't be good.

He moved over to sit next to her, choosing a careful distance at the very edge of the sofa. Running a hand over his eyes, he broke the silence.

"You said we needed to talk?"

He watched her intently as she bit the inside of her cheek and avoided his gaze. For several agonizing minutes, he sat and waited, hoping that she would gather her courage sometime soon and get this over with. Suddenly his nervous energy overtaxed his neurons and he jumped up, seeming to startle Sam from her intense inner thoughts.

"Jack?"

His world stuttered to a halt and he spun to look at her. She hadn't spoken his name in two and a half months – not once in the 74 days since he had last been in this house alone with her. His focused narrowed on to her fidgeting hands and the flickering of her eyes and the aura of barely controlled fear that seemed to be encompassing her.

Fear?

Was she afraid of him?

Suddenly, and without a doubt he knew that he had misread the whole situation. He had no idea what this was about, but he knew that he was way off base.

"Sam?" He moved back to the couch, kneeling down by her feet in between the couch and the coffee table. "What's going on?"

His voice was so low and compassionate it surprised him. A lot of things had surprised him in that last two and a half months.

He watched the woman before him - a loving, compassionate, strong, brilliant, vibrant soldier - turn into a little girl looking for approval right before his eyes. She seemed to be struggling; having some sort of internal war, battling out what and how to tell him. He only wished that he had more of a clue as to what was bothering her.

"Sam?"

Her hand moved, reached over to the end table and picked something up. She seemed to study it for a moment, as if it held some sort of deep, dark secret. Then, still without a word, she looked him in the eyes, chewed nervously on her lower lip, and handed the object to him.

He caught her eyes for another moment before slowly and silently taking the small piece of plastic from her hands. His brow furrowed as he glanced at it and he looked up at her again, questioning. Huffing in almost teary-eyed amusement, she flipped it over in his hands and he found himself face to face with two small blue lines.

He blinked, bit his lower lip and raised the plastic to his eyes, hoping that a closed look would reveal the secrets of the strip.

"What's this?" He lifted it up and pointed to the blue lines.

"It's… positive." She said softly, retaining his gaze and not backing down.

"Two blue… positive," he reiterated to himself. God, he'd been so off base; he'd been standing in Nevada to her Cheyenne Mountain. "Positive?"

"Positive."

"Positive?" He asked stupidly and then shook his head, "I mean, you're sure?" His heart was beginning to beat faster and was starting to crawl up into his throat.

She bit the corner of her bottom lip in a truly adorable sign of apprehension and nodded again.

Jack knelt there, frozen in place. Positive. She was pregnant. Really, pregnant. This was… wow.

"Wow…"

"Hmph. Yeah, you can say that again…" She was studying him. Her position showed that she was afraid. Not of him, but of what he might do… of how he might react.

He quickly did the only thing he could think of to show her, to prove to her that, no matter what the ultimate outcome, he didn't regret a single moment that the two of them had spent together.

He leaned up, gently cupped her cheek, watching as her eyes drifted shut just by the reassurance of his touch, and kissed her gently.

"Unbelievable," he murmured as he drew back from her again. One hand still held the test and the other rest gently on her thigh, his fingers unconsciously massaging her muscle. "You… and me and… one night?"

"One's all it takes, Colonel," she teased, seeming to relax at his totally awed expression.

He was awed. Floored. Blown away. Dumb-founded.

He blinked.

"Pregnant?"

Her brow furrowed and a playful smile tugged on one corner of her lips. "No, Jack, I was approved for a loan."

For three-tenths of a second – he could count it because his world froze – he actually believed her, and then his heart broke its confines and shouted, "You liar!" as it continued to beat it's happy rhythm.

His face broke into the biggest Cheshire cat grin that he could ever imagine as the realization sunk in.

Pregnant.

Carter, Sam, was pregnant.

With his child.

His child was slowly growing within her.

He sat next to her, practically swooping her into his lap kissing her until he thought his heart would burst. He didn't think he'd ever been so happy in his entire life.

Sure, he'd been ecstatic with Charlie, but after everything that had happened, he never thought he would get the opportunity for a second chance.

Their heated kisses dwindled into tender nips and tastes and Jack, overwhelmed by the unexpected beauty of the evening, moved her and himself so that he ended with his head to her stomach. He slowly and reverently lifted the hem of her tank top to reveal her abdomen and he leaned closer.

"Hey, kid?"

"Jack…" Sam drawled, though her pleased tone snuck into the playful reprimand.

Jack continued to speak, half of his mind focusing on the skin before him and the other half on the tender fingers that were lacing themselves into his hair. "You're a special kid, you know that? You're going to have you mommy's looks and brains, but you'll have 23 of my chromosomes… making you an important step forward in the evolutionary chain – or so Thor would say."

Sam giggled, and he found himself hoping that their child would have that nice airy sound to his or her laugh.

The hand in his hair slowly moved his head, tilting it to look up into her eyes. "What do we do now, Jack? Where do we go from here?"

He knew what she meant. After seeing his reaction her fear no longer focused on him, but on them - the three of them.

He kissed her stomach gently, then moved so he could look her level in the eye, cupping her cheek. "I don't have all the answers, Sam, but I can promise you that we'll figure something out. One way or another we'll figure something out."

She smiled at him from behind tearful eyes. "Whatever's going to happen, Jack, can you stay here tonight? I really want you here with me…" her hand caressed her stomach once more and she softly added, "with us."

Jack smiled at the sound of that and laid his ear down on her stomach, listening to the faint beat of her heart and feeling the warm reality of her skin beneath his. He'd missed this. He'd only had it for one night, and he had missed it.

"I'm sorry about the last two months, Sam."

He felt her shrug and listened to the soft voice answering, "We knew it would be hard."

"But I couldn't do anything for you, and I was so afraid tonight that you wanted to make me forget… us… that that night never happened." Jack O'Neill was not one to delve deeply into his emotions, but the overwhelming joy of a baby greatly eclipsed anything he had felt in the last couple of weeks or months… or 74 days.

Sam's shocked expression took him slightly by surprise. "Oh, Jack…" Her hand traced the outline of his face as his head rested in her lap. "I could never do that. No matter what happens, no matter what choices we come to. I could never ask you to forget."

She closed her eyes for a few moments, and he desperately wondered what was going on inside her mind. "We have to figure something out, though, Jack. Never mind, Hammond, or Janet, or anyone else at the SGC, or Air Force…what are we going to tell my father?"

Jack's brain stopped processing. Jacob. How could he have possibly not thought about Jacob? The man would kill him. Selmac would come up with thousands of ways to prolong his life enough to make him absolutely miserable for what he'd done to his daughter. He was so dead.

After a long tortuous and imminently horrific heart-to-heart.

'Hey, Jacob how you doin'? Barely escaped death again, I see. I'm sorry? Oh yeah, your daughter's fine and carrying around my child.'

Or worse…

"Sam, your father's going to kill me."

"Not if Selmac doesn't first."

"Oh! Well, that's just that much better, isn't it?" he asked sarcastically, burying his nose into her stomach. He sighed, but couldn't keep the giddiness of discovery out of his voice. "It doesn't matter now. I'll deal."

"Deal fast, Jack. Dad comes in on Friday."

His heart stopped, his lungs wouldn't take in breath. Friday? Friday! That's it, she was trying to kill him.

"Friday?" his voice barely avoided cracking.

She looked down at him, a nervous smile on her face, "Friday…" she stroked his face, "and no matter what we decide to tell anyone else… there's no way I can get away with lying to him. I couldn't do it when I was younger, it certainly didn't work when I gave him the cover for the Stargate Project, and it sure as hell isn't going to work now."

"Hey," Jack looked up at her in all seriousness, "watch the language in front of Junior, okay?"

She rolled her eyes. "Jack," she warned.

Suddenly he sat up, stood up and reached down for her hands, pulling her up beside him. "I'm not going to lie to your father, Sam. I wasn't planning on it. But he's still going to kill me."

She grinned and cocked her head in agreement. "He might." She laced her fingers through his and tugged him out of the living room. Images of that night flooded his senses and he felt his blood flush heavily through his veins. He could see her smile, taste her skin, hear her moans, feel her softness and smell her… God, he could smell her now.

He smacked himself.

"No," he stated, trying to scare himself into submission. "He will."

She turned at the foot of her bed and cupped his face, kissing him lovingly. "He won't kill you. I won't let him. Besides, he wouldn't want to leave his grandchild without a father." She kissed him again, pulling him closer.

Moving away from her lips, he held her tightly, pressing his forehead to hers, "I love you, Sam, and I really want this. I want a second chance to have a family… especially with you."

She smiled shyly and he felt as though he could stand there forever, knowing that she was carrying his child, that no matter what, nothing could separate them completely anymore. They would always be joined by the new life they'd created.

Gently she reached for the hem of his shirt and began to tug it up over his head, her fingers trailing up his chest.

"I'm tired, Jack."

As soon as the shirt was gone, he looked at her with amused curiosity. "Tired? If you're tired, Sam, you shouldn't be undressing me like that."

She huffed but didn't let his playful words distract her wandering fingers. Then, as her fingers unhooked his belt and loosened the button, she looked up at him through her lashes. "You think I'm going to let you sleep in jeans?"

He swallowed hard, her hands on his waistband made him think of just about anything but sleep. "I guess not." He helped her release his fly and stepped out of his jeans, bending to pick them up. "I could sleep next to you forever you know… I don't think I've ever slept better than I did that night."

She pulled down the covers on her bed and sat on the side. "There are a lot of things that we need to discuss, Jack. A lot of things that aren't going to be easy."

He sat on the bed beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Nothing about this is going to be easy, Sam. The things that really matter rarely are…"

She smiled sweetly and gently pushed on his shoulder to get him to lie down. She settled herself beside him, her hands resting lightly on his chest, feeling him breathe in slow, even breaths.

They were silent for long moments, listening to the softened passing of traffic and the ticking of the clock in the kitchen.

"I'm not ready to quit gate travel yet, Jack." She said softly, knowing that that was going to be one of the biggest hurdles they would have to deal with. "I'll need to talk with Janet, but I'm not ready to stop working yet."

She watched as first concern and then acceptance flickered through his eyes. He couldn't really argue the point. A large majority of their missions really were pretty inane and lacked any life-threatening situations; but it was those few times that something bad did happen that he was worried about. He couldn't, however, force her to quit such a big part of her livelihood.

"I know you won't, and I wouldn't be right to ask you to either." His hand drifted to her hair and absently stroked a lock away from her forehead. "But are you going to tell Janet how I'm involved?"

She looked down for a moment, and he smiled at the image she made, not meeting his eye, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "I haven't decided what I'm going to tell anyone yet, Jack. My father certainly needs to know the truth… I know he'll be disappointed, but I can't lie to him. Janet, Hammond, Daniel and Teal'c… I want to tell them the truth. I want to tell everyone the truth. But what that means just isn't acceptable to me." She met his eye now, leaning up and kissing him gently. "I want you, too. Not just here and now. I want you to stay here, be with me through everything, not have to pretend. But it's impossible."

She paused and he idly massaged the tense muscles in her neck, hoping he could relax her even just a little. "So," she started again, "until we figure something better out, we stay quiet. We keep it professional, and we do everything within our power to be together whenever possible - but off base and not when we're offworld."

Snuggling closer to him, she rested her head on his chest right where she could listen to the calming thump of his heartbeat. "Team nights, get-togethers, none of that has to change. But at the end of the evening, I want this. The two of us, and no one - nothing - else."

Something insanely happy bubbled up inside of Jack's chest and he brought her head up from its spot in his chest to kiss her. He lingered on her lips, hoping that he was relaying his acceptance of her plan. There is no way he could have wanted anything more from her.

"I'll be with you, Sam – every step of the way." His fingers curled into her hair and one thumb arched down her cheek, loving the look of complete satisfaction etched on her face. "Who we tell, when we tell them is entirely up to you. You're going to paying the most for this and I'll love you forever for it; that you're willing to do this with me."

She kissed him gently and allowed her smile to emerge as she settled back from him to look him in the eyes. "I'm can't tell them that you're the father, no matter how much I want to." She closed her eyes to think and Jack was washed away by the look of fear and concentration that she wearing. "I love you, Jack, but telling the General that you're the child's father will only get you into trouble. I know he'll be disappointed in me for allowing this to happen… but I know the truth. You know the truth."

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly, supporting her decision and any others that she felt necessary. "Sam, as long as we know, that's all that matters." He kissed her head lightly. "Nothing else matters to me right now. Nothing, except you and the baby, our baby."

Her arms went around him, holding him to her with the same comforting force that he held her. They lay there in silence, him caressing her back, feeling her relax - even only a little - under his touch. Her breathing slowed, steadied and he knew she had drifted into a light sleep.

Staring at the ceiling he thought of everything that had happened today, and decided that after everything, lying here in her bed, with her in his arms, was the perfect ending to a wonderful day, and a wonderful beginning for a second chance.