Lunch really wasn't sitting well. Of course, the fact that lunch was sitting on top of a baby who wanted nothing more than to play soccer in Carter's belly wasn't helping. Sam put both hands on her enormous stomach and pressed a little, earning a few vicious kicks in return.

"Little Bit," she groaned, "you've gotta stop this. Momma's sleepy."

But the baby didn't listen, and Sam sunk further back into the recliner, desperately seeking comfort of any sort. She wanted – and it bothered her to even think it – she wanted the colonel. He seemed to have some sway with the overly-athletic creature in her gut that she just couldn't pull.

The creak of the door made her sigh almost audibly in relief. "Hey, sir."

"Hey. How ya feelin'?"

"Oh, you know. Gymnastics day," she grumbled.

His grin spread from the doorway to fill the room. "I had quite the day, too. You'll never guess who followed me home."

"Oh, yeah?" She cracked her eyes open just in time to see Jacob Carter appear over her CO's shoulder. "Dad!"

"No, no, don't get up," he insisted, hurrying to crouch beside the recliner. "Oh, Sammie."

His eyes were a mixture of relief and pain, and she opened her arms for a hug. "It's okay, Dad."

"I should have been here sooner. I didn't know." Large, gentle hands surrounded her belly in amazement. "How long?"

"Seven months. Almost eight."

"I'm so sorry, Sam."

She caught his chin and smiled. "It's over, Dad."

"But it's not. You have to live with it every day. I don't know if I could do that."

"She doesn't have a whole lot of choice, Jacob." Jack set a folding chair next to the recliner for the older man and hoped he'd take the hint – the rape was not something they dwelt upon. It was history.

"Right. Sorry."

Sam laughed. "Please quit apologizing."

"Sweetie, I just… I don't know if I'm thrilled or devastated, you know? My baby's having a baby, but…"

"I know."

"George said they've cut your hours. Are you okay? I mean-"

"I'm fine. Janet's had me on partial bed rest for… almost all of this, so I don't really work full days. They're calling me high-risk, but I think she's being a little overprotective," Sam added conspiratorially.

"Then again, she wasn't exactly in the best shape to get pregnant," Jack put in. "And it's hard on the body, doin' that."

Sam rolled her eyes at him.

"They'd better be taking good care of you," Jacob threatened softly.

"They are, Dad. Sometimes too good. Someone's with me almost all the time." She neglected to mention that Jack was camping out in her guest room; she wasn't sure how her father would take that. "I don't cook or clean; I always have the remote and my laptop within reach; I never, ever have to worry about dinner. What's dinner, by the way?"

"Italian," Jack supplied easily, and the older man laughed.

"Tasty, sir. Could it wait two hours or so? I'm not feeling the greatest."

Jacob watched with interest as the colonel quickly surveyed his daughter – taking a risk assessment, like any good soldier. "Heartburn, or something else?"

"I'm a little nauseous. Little Bit's been swimming laps all afternoon."

"Headache at all?"

She shook her head, apparently used to the drill.

"Let me see your hands." He inspected them quickly and let the subject drop. "I'll call the guys and ask them to hold off."

"Thank you, sir."

Jack had barely cleared the door when Jacob asked, "What was that all about?"

"Oh, they're watching my blood pressure. It was too low, and I kept fainting, and now it's climbing, and they're keeping an eye. It's not high enough for concern, just… vigilance."

"Well, that's… good." Her father looked worried anyway.

"Don't worry, Daddy. People have been doing this for thousands of years, right?"