Daniel tried to ignore the constant movement behind him as he slowly and methodically documented the ruins SG-13 had found on M3X-552. It was a pretty sweet moon – the red giant it orbited loomed massive in the eastern sky, the two other moons currently visible off to the left.

But Jack wasn't paying attention to any of that. He had, thankfully, stopped pacing back and forth right behind the archaeologist, but settled instead next to the lake and started skipping rocks across it. And the rocks, Daniel knew, were pieces of the ruins. He really hoped there was nothing important – the one symbol that was key to survival or something – on the rocks that were quickly finding the bottom of the lake.

Skipping rocks didn't last long, and Jack resumed pacing. Daniel locked eyes plaintively with Teal'c, but when he realized that wasn't going to get him anywhere, he set down his notebook. "You know, it's a good thing I don't get motion sickness."

Jack stopped. "Huh?"

"Because you won't stop moving," Daniel pressed. "Seriously. This is over the top, even for you."

His friend looked a little like he'd just gotten caught with the last donut halfway into his mouth. After a second, he spun around, found a good spot, and sank down against one of the ruins.

It was the fact that Jack didn't have a witty comeback that told Daniel he was right – something was seriously bothering the man. He had a feeling he knew what, too, but he wasn't going to bring it up. Things were already moving in the right direction without his meddling.

The archaeologist went back to his work, but it wasn't long before he heard fidgeting behind him again – of course. When he opened his pack, the man jumped to his feet. "You done?"

"No," he answered patiently, "I'm just getting my camera."

"Oh." He started pacing again.

Daniel watched his friend for a moment with ever-increasing irritation. "Good Lord, Jack!" he exclaimed finally. "You're like an addict who needs a fix!"

The colonel pinned him down with sharp eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't," Daniel muttered. "I'll make you a deal – if I can have thirty uninterrupted minutes, I'll be done, and we can go home." He wanted to add 'to Sam and the baby,' but thought better of it.

"Deal."

~/~

He would never, ever admit anything to Daniel – and certainly not before talking to Carter – but his blood pressure dropped back to normal levels and he could practically feel the jitters fade as he pulled into her driveway and parked his truck. He missed the warmth of that tiny little life in his arms, the way she cooed and purred and grinned reflexively at him. His friend was right – he was an addict, just of a different sort.

Baby Aimee was on her back on a blanket in the living room, a playset suspended over her head. She gurgled contentedly, batting with uncoordinated limbs at the creatures flying above her. Otherwise, the room was empty... though something delicious wafted in from the kitchen.

"Hey, Little Bit," he murmured in what Daniel had dubbed his 'baby voice,' leaning over to scoop her up and cuddle her against him. "Mommy left you by yourself, huh? Don't tell me she's in the kitchen, cooking. I don't buy that for a minute."

Aimee sneezed at him, and he chuckled. She was ridiculously cute.

"Bless you. Where's Mommy, huh?"

"She's taking a shower."

The male voice threw Jack for a loop, and he tensed in expectation as he raised his head to meet the man's eyes. "Jacob," he greeted, his voice lighter than he felt.

"Jack."

"You cookin'? Smells good!"

"Jack," the elder Carter repeated.

"Jacob." Well, this was trouble.

"I got here a little after lunch today to spend some time with my girls," he began, not leaving his looming spot in the doorway. "And when Sam decided to take a shower, I went to take my stuff up to the guest room."

Definitely trouble. Jack pulled the little girl a tiny bit closer to his chest.

"It's a nice setup in there, really, though the couch... thingy..."

"Futon," Jack supplied.

"It's a little small. But I imagine you know that."

"I did buy it," he defended. Watching the fire coming and throwing himself into it were two entirely different things.

"Uh-huh. And the boxers thrown over the back came with it?"

"No, that was just part of the decorating scheme."

Jacob glared at him.

"Hey, aren't you the least bit grateful they were in the guest room and not Carter's?"

"Yes," he answered flatly. "Yes, I am. But I still want to know – how long have you been living in this house?"

Well, he wasn't gonna lie to the man. "Since she was about three months along, mostly."

"That's a long time." When Jack didn't answer, he pressed, "What are your intentions, here, exactly?"

He shrugged a little. "Hopeful? Look, Jacob, I'm trying to be here for her in any way she needs. This is hard on her. But if you're telling me to back off-"

"I'm telling you," he interrupted, "that I can't be here as much as I want to be. And that – and it pains me to admit this – I don't know her well enough to make these decisions for her. But you're right, Jack. This is hard on her, and she's not exactly herself right now."

"I know."

Jacob let out a heavy sigh. "Look, Jack – she would follow you anywhere. All I'm asking is that you make sure the road you choose to lead her down is the right one."

"The right one what?"

Both men started at Sam's voice. "Hockey team," Jack answered evenly. "Talkin' about brackets, that's all."

"I didn't know you liked hockey, dad."

"Uh... Selmak likes it," he defended, stepping further into the room to let his daughter in.

"Uh-huh." Clearly not buying it, she stepped past him and gathered Aimee into her arms. "Hello, my beautiful little girl. Are they fighting over you? Tell them you're cute enough to go around."

"Of course. She is a Carter," Jacob put in.

Jack snorted.

"Did you cook, Dad? Something smells amazing."

"Pork and mashed potatoes," he told her. "My favorites."

"How generous," she laughed.

They headed toward the kitchen, but Jack held back. Except when he was off world, he and Carter had shared just about every dinner together since the day he'd found her holed up there, but with Jacob in the picture, he felt rather like he should just grab his bag from the nursery and leave.

"Jack." Jacob stepped back into the doorway, wooden spoon in hand. "I made extra."

The two exchanged a long, serious look before Jack headed toward the kitchen. "Sweet."