Part Five: Learning

Life is not a continuum of pleasant choices, but of inevitable problems that call for strength, determination, and hard work.
~Indian Proverb

"God, this stuff never gets better, does it? You'd think after drinking it so much I'd get used to it. A little." Sam looked at the concoction she held with disgust.

"At least it shouldn't last much longer, right?" Daniel soothed.

She looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "That's morning sickness, Daniel. I don't have morning sickness. I have morning, noon, and night shoot yourself in the head to make it stop sickness. And God only knows when that lets up."

Jack couldn't stop a small smile. The baby, in a way, had been good for Carter. Once she'd made the decision to carry it to term, it had given her something to focus on – a reason to take care of herself. She was eating and, well, trying to sleep, and while she still rigidly avoided any topic even close to what had happened to her, he figured they had at least a few months until the next crisis. In the meantime, life was almost back to normal. Almost.

"I have ordered our evening meal," Teal'c announced from the living room. "Daniel Jackson, perhaps you will accompany me." After his outburst that first night, they didn't leave the two junior members of the team alone together. Or even close to it. Settled as they'd gotten, they all still knew that Carter was simmering magma waiting for a reason to erupt.

"Yeah, sure." He grabbed his keys and started for the door.

"Ice cream," Sam called after them. "Forget the ice cream, and don't bother coming back."

Jack snorted with laughter. At least she wasn't combining it with pickles, like Sara had done. That was truly gross. Sam turned to look at him at the sound he'd made, and he took a moment to look her over – she had regained the lost weight over the last few weeks, and even this early, her face and chest were a little fuller. It was a nice look.

"What?" she asked.

He shrugged. "You look good."

"Not for long," she answered, but she was smiling.

"Yeah, well." He took a drag off his beer. "How ya feelin'? I haven't asked you that in awhile."

"Pretty good, sir," she answered, "Other than the crazy nausea, of course. And being grumpy as hell. This is…" She shook her head, unsure of what else to say. "Thank you."

"For what?"

She bit her lip. "I know you're upset that this… that you didn't get to me sooner. But when I really, really needed rescued, you found me," she told him. "Whether I wanted you to or not."

He shrugged, biting back an enormous grin as he mentally danced for joy. "It's my job."

~/~

Jack found Carter lying on the kitchen floor on her side, her head cushioned on her left arm. "Whatcha doin'?" he asked.

"What I was told to do when I get dizzy," she answered bitterly. "And on that subject, sir, I'm a little tired of everybody telling me what to do."

"Ah. Thanks for the warning on the mood swing."

"Sorry, sir." She clearly wasn't.

"How long have you been down there?"

"Just a few minutes."

"Ready to get up?"

"No."

"Okay." Jack grabbed a book off the counter and slid down beside her, perfectly content to join what he couldn't beat. He flipped the pages to week nine and began perusing. "So… Baby has fingers now."

She glanced up at him. "Really?"

"Yup. Bones are forming, too. Have you not read this yet?"

She shook her head a little. "Daniel got it for me. I figure whatever's gonna happen will happen whether I micro-analyze it or not."

The thought of Carter not wanting to know absolutely everything about a given subject was more than a little disturbing, but he kept his voice light. Whatever got her through. "Oh, I dunno – there's some interesting stuff in here. Like the fact that, for instance, you might get dizzy spells right about now."

Sam made a face. "Okay, I guess that might have been nice to know a little sooner."

"Sometime before you passed out in the lunch line?" he asked wryly. She had given the whole base – and especially Siler, who'd caught her– quite a scare. Jack turned the page, and of course, he couldn't leave well enough alone. "It says that your morning sickness can start to fade any day now."

"That would be great."

"And that as it does, your hormones might drive you a little crazy."

"They're already driving me crazy, sir."

"Oh, that's not the crazy I meant."

She blinked. "You're making that up."

The suggestive waggle of his eyebrows told her very clearly that he wasn't. "Feeling a bit horny, Carter?"

"In my current company, no, sir. Just nauseous."

"Ouch, Carter! Damn!" But she was grinning, and he knew she didn't mean it. "Ready to get up yet?"

"Yeah." He took her arm and slowly, gently pulled her to sitting, then to her feet. He kept a hand under her elbow as he moved her toward the couch, and she spotted the duffel bag in the living room for the first time. "Sir?"

"I'm staying here for a few nights, Carter. Until this blood pressure thing evens out."

She wrenched her arm out of his grip. Since the first few nights, she'd been just fine on her own. She was no invalid. "It's not a thing, sir. Janet said it could happen at any point in the pregnancy."

He shrugged. "So maybe more than a few."

"You're being ridiculous, sir."

"Am I?"

The bad mood was back with a vengeance, but at least the fire was back in her eyes. Jack would take feeling of any sort as a positive sign, hormones or not. "You're acting like this is something out of the ordinary. Janet said it's perfectly normal and there's nothing wrong!"

"Nothing wrong until you get dizzy on the stairs or fall and whack your head!" he argued, his voice rising to match hers.

"I do not need a babysitter," she growled.

"Maybe not, but if you want to talk normal, most pregnant women have one."

Even if he had a point, it hit a nerve. "Fine," she spat. "Do what you want. I'm going to bed."

"Have you eaten dinner?"

"No, and I don't intend to!" she yelled over her shoulder.

He watched until she disappeared up the stairs. "I'll just put my stuff in the guest room later, then, thanks," he muttered to himself, then headed to the kitchen to make her dinner.

~/~

A few nights turned into several weeks as Carter's dizzy spells got worse instead of better, and she was alternatively glad to see the colonel and pissed as hell when he got home. He tried not to take it personally – to that point, she hadn't gotten anywhere near as offensive as Sara had sometimes been. At least the morning sickness was starting to fade in the afternoon, and she was usually appreciative of dinner.

Staying with Carter was beginning to have its disadvantages, though. She had gained more than a cup size, he figured, and her chest was becoming incredibly distracting. She had yet to catch him looking, and he fully intended to keep it that way, but staring while she was asleep seemed unsporting, too. The book had claimed that Carter's hormones would be out of whack – no one had mentioned his.

"Morning, sir," Carter greeted, stepping into the kitchen. "What's for breakfast?"

"Omelettes."

"Sounds fantastic." She stretched languidly, and he took an appreciative eyeful while her eyes were closed.

"The guys should be here soon. You remember we deploy this afternoon, right?" SG-1 hadn't been off world overnight since they'd rescued Sam.

"Sara tells me that memory doesn't fade until after the baby's born, sir," she snarked.

"Oh. Right."

"You remember that I have an appointment today?" she challenged. "Janet said I should be able to hear the baby's heartbeat."

"Of course I do." He hadn't.

"Right. So I hope those omelettes will be done soon."

"Kickin' it into high gear as we speak," he muttered.

"I'm gonna go change, then." She turned to leave, and he watched her go, the hind view nice as always. She hit the doorway and turned back, catching him staring. "Oh, and sir?" she asked innocently.

"Hmm?" He cleared his throat, a bit anxious at being caught.

"Take a good look, sir," she said with a raised eyebrow. "If you get held up off world, this body may be long gone by the time you get back."

She executed a smart turn and left. Jack just stood there, speechless, until her voice floated back down the steps.

"Don't you burn my omelette!"