(1)

They always referred to M2X-564 as "Hangover Planet." It was the one with the tall grass and the nosy scientists and the green things that were almost, but not quite, entirely unlike avocados, but the hangovers had been memorable. After the initial scouting and negotiation trip, they'd made sure that teams went for day trips only and didn't stay for dinner. Aside from the hangovers, the planet's scientists were really nosy, and John didn't want to see any of his men trying to field their highly intimate questions and total disregard for personal space.

"Colonel? Major Lorne's team is coming through from M2X-564." Elizabeth sounded tense.

John keyed his radio. "Already? They've only been gone two hours."

"I know," she said. "The planet's been culled. They're bringing back refugees."

"On my way," he replied

He reached the gate room in time to see the team come back through, leading a couple of dozen bloodied, shell-shocked refugees, the strongest of whom were towing a large cart laden with bags, baskets and bundles. John went to Lorne, taking in his grim expression.

"How bad?"

Lorne sighed. "Pretty bad. We met this group coming toward the gate from the city - they're all that's left."

They moved out of the gate room, stopping to flatten themselves against the wall so that the medical team could hurry through.

An hour later, Carson paged John to come to the infirmary. When he got there, he found the doctor, Elizabeth, Rodney, Teyla and Ronon all waiting for him, looking grim.

"Colonel," Carson said. "Do you remember anything odd from your first visit to M2X-564?"

"Just the hangover from hell, why?" John crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, it's just that..." Carson said.

Elizabeth broke in. "John, there's something you need to..."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Rodney said, stepping forward to grab John's arm and pull him in front of the window to one of the treatment rooms. "Do you remember anything that would have caused that?" He pointed.

That turned out to be a baby. A small, blanket-wrapped, sleeping baby. One with two inches of dark hair standing straight up on its head. One that looked exactly like John's own baby pictures.

John stumbled back a step, only Rodney's firm grip on his arm keeping him from falling. "No!" John said. "I think I'd remember making one of those! Besides, I haven't had sex since Chaya." At Rodney's shocked look, he closed his mouth and straightened up, turning to look at Carson. "Doc, is he... mine?"

Carson smiled gently. "Genetically, she is your offspring, son. We think the people of M2X-564 must have drugged you and taken DNA samples on the scouting trip. I'll have to do some more research to determine if it's a form of cloning or in-vitro fertilization or what, but she's definitely yours."

"But, but...just me?" John made a sweeping hand gesture that encompassed the others.

"There is one other," Teyla said, and the sadness in her voice made John stop and look at her closely. Carson sighed and gestured to the next window, where another baby was swaddled in a blanket, laying in some sort of plastic bin, looking around curiously with shining dark eyes. This one had a thin fuzz of dark hair and smooth, mocha-colored skin.

"Ford," John said.

The rest of the day moved quickly for John - he had to send a team to open quarters for the new refugees, he had to listen to Lorne's team's debriefing, he had paperwork to do. He really, really had to hide in his office.

That's where Rodney found him.

"You okay?" Rodney's voice was quiet from the doorway.

John lifted his head from his desk and grimaced. "Really not. What did you find out?"

Rodney helped himself to a seat in the visitor's chair and clasped his hands in his lap, looking down at them. "None of the scientists survived - the refugees found the two kids in a lab - heard them crying."

"Are they...human?" John asked.

"Yes." Rodney nodded sharply. "They check out. 100% human and 50% you and Ford, respectively. Well, old Ford, back when he was..." He cleared his throat and looked up. "They're going to send Ford's son home to his family on the Daedalus. Make up some story about a dead mother."

"That's good." John toyed with the papers on his desk. "What about..."

"She's your daughter, Colonel. You have to decide."

"Decide? Decide what, Rodney? I don't know what to do with a baby! I never planned to have kids! I live in another galaxy, one with space vampires and crazy people who try to kill us all the time! I can't subject a kid to that." John thrust his fingers through his hair, pulling at the roots in frustration. "I can't."

"She has the ATA gene, at least as strongly as you. We think they were trying to genetically engineer an Ancient."

John looked up. "What are you telling me, Rodney?"

Rodney looked down at his hands again, then leaned over to shut the office door. "I'm very carefully not telling you anything. I'm subtly hinting to you that your daughter is very important to the people who run this expedition and that it's probably better that she be raised by you than a building full of scientists and bureaucrats. Of course, you aren't an idiot, so you've already thought all of this through and realized that even someone with exactly zero tolerance for children wouldn't be stupid enough to abandon an innocent baby with ridiculous hair to the United States military."

John's eyes went dark and hard. "My daughter does not have ridiculous hair!"

Rodney smiled. "Whatever you say, Dad."

John's steely-eyed glare turned into a goofy smile. "Does that make you Uncle Rodney?"

Rodney looked stunned and he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, looking for all the world like a confused goldfish. "You'd... uh... let me near her?" he asked.

"Well, yeah," John said. "Do you know anything about babies?"

"I... my... um, well, I have a sister that's twelve years younger than me. I took care of her a lot before I went off to college."

"Can you teach me what to do?" John's voice was pleading.

Rodney looked down at his hands, then back up at John, then simply nodded.

When they returned to the infirmary, the baby was sleeping, nestled side by side with Ford's son in one of the hospital beds, the rails padded with blanket-covered pillows.

John walked right up to Elizabeth, who was leaning against the window frame, watching both babies sleep. "I want her," he said.

Elizabeth slumped a little, seeming to let out a breath she'd been holding. She turned to John with a radiant smile. "I'm so glad," she said.

"Me, too," Carson said, coming out of a different exam room. "I'll arrange for some supplies to be brought to your quarters, then?"

John looked from Carson to Elizabeth to Rodney. "Today? Now? But, what does she eat? And how? And clothes, and where does she sleep?"

Rodney crossed his arms over his chest and looked smug. "Colonel, don't be stupid. I'm sure Carson has fashioned reasonable facsimiles for bottles and diapers and such, right, Carson?"

The doctor nodded. "Nurse Crenshaw will be accompanying wee Aiden there on the Daedalus, and she can bring back proper supplies on the return trip. Until then, we'll make do. Rodney can help you."

"He can?" Elizabeth's eyebrows climbed nearly to her hairline.

As it turned out, he could. Rodney knew how to change a diaper. Rodney knew that once you heated up the bottle of formula, you had to put a couple of drops on the inside of your wrist to check the temperature. Rodney knew how to dress a small burn on the inside of John's wrist. Rodney knew what to do when, halfway through her first bottle, she turned her little face up to John and wailed. He swung her up from John's lap onto his shoulder and gave her five sharp pats on the back, which produced a belch that would make Ronon blush.

"Oh, my God, you are a genius," John said. Rodney simply handed the baby back and watched John charm her into taking the bottle again.

(2)

"Colonel, you have to decide on a name - the Daedalus is leaving in the morning, and we have to send back the information to get her a birth certificate. You can't just call her "sweetie" for the rest of her life!" Carson managed to chastise John while never breaking the rhythm of the rocking/bouncing motion that the baby seemed to like best.

John leaned against the infirmary wall and sighed. "I know," he said, bringing one hand up to rub tiredly at his neck. "I just can't think of anything good enough."

"Well, you can't wait much longer." Carson was getting ready to hand the baby back over to John when Rodney burst into the exam room.

"Hi, sweetie," he crooned, stepping between John and Carson to intercept the baby. He kissed her on the forehead and cuddled her against his chest. He looked at Carson. "So? Gimme the stats."

Carson rolled his eyes. "She's gained a little over six ounces, bringing her up to thirteen pounds and a wee bit more. All her vital signs are fine. She's a perfectly healthy more-or-less eight-week-old infant." He glared at John. "Who has no name."

John was saved from answering by an indignant squawk from the baby. Rodney looked at his watch and snapped his fingers at John. "Right on schedule."

John took her and motioned for Rodney to grab the black cloth satchel that was definitely not a diaper bag.

"I need a name for her before 0700 tomorrow, Colonel!' Carson called as they headed out the door.

"There you go, sweetie," John crooned, watching as his daughter calmly drank her bottle.

Rodney, digging in the not-diaper bag on John's desk, came up with a folded cloth, which he tossed toward the rocking chair that had been a gift from Halling. John fielded it deftly with one hand and draped it over his shoulder. He waited until the baby gave him a sour look, then eased her upright and burped her quickly before settling her down to finish her meal.

"What about Shay?" he asked.

"Shay Sheppard sounds like a porn star."

"Point. Lisa?"

"Bo-ring." Rodney booted up John's laptop and settled into the desk chair.

"Lisa was my mom's name," John groused.

"That doesn't make it any less boring." He gestured toward the screen. "Look at this - Heightmeyer's lobbying for Katherine again. She's so transparent. I'm deleting this."

"Zelenka keeps sending names I can't figure out how to pronounce, and Ronon's given me some that don't even have vowels."

"I still like Inga," Rodney said, stabbing at the keyboard.

"And that wouldn't have anything to do with your middle name being Ingram, would it?" John stood up and carried the baby toward the bathroom.

"How'd you know that?"

"The fifteen framed diplomas in your quarters?"

"Yes, yes." Rodney stood and walked to John's dresser, opening the top drawer. "What color?"

"Pink," John called over the sound of running water.

"Gender nazi," Rodney said, pulling out one of the sack-like cotton nightgowns someone had fashioned for the baby.

John was bathing the baby in the sink, and she was happily splashing water all over him. He tilted her backward and carefully wet her hair, slicking the fine, dark strands to her skull. He held out his hand and Rodney squirted a tiny bit of shampoo into it before he even had to ask.

"What about Caroline?" John asked as he quickly finished the bath.

Rodney held out his hands with a towel draped over them, making a warm cradle. John deposited the slippery baby in them and folded the tail of the towel over, gently blotting her skin.

"Eh," Rodney said, shifting her to the crook of his elbow so that he could dry her hair.

"Yeah," John said. He took the swaddled baby from Rodney's arms and carried her to the bed, laying her down to diaper her and wrestle her into the gown. "Throw me a dry shirt," he called to Rodney.

"Black, black or black?" Rodney rummaged in another drawer for a second before coming up with a worn black tee shirt.

John stripped off his damp shirt, grinning when the baby made a happy sound and reached for his dog tags. He leaned over her and made them swing slowly. He dipped further forward when the dry shirt landed on his back, then hissed when the baby grabbed his dog tags in one hand and a fistful of chest hair in the other.

"You're a vicious little monkey," John said, freeing himself and putting on the tee shirt. The baby tried to put her foot in her mouth and ignored him. He looked up to see Rodney edging toward the door. "Where are you going?"

"Um, back to my quarters? Where I live?"

"But, she doesn't have a name yet," John said.

"Far be it from me to point out the obvious, but she's your kid, Colonel - you get to name her."

"Well, she's your...you're involved here, too! You have to help. Or are you just making sure I keep her safe until she's old enough to put under the microscope?" John meant it jokingly, but Rodney's face paled an he looked stricken.

"Rodney, I..." John said, reaching toward the door.

"I'm not some sort of Dr. Mengele, you know," Rodney said quietly. "I'd never hurt her, John. Not ever. You believe me, don't you?"

Rodney's tone was so beseeching that John instantly felt like the world's biggest jerk. "Rodney, I..." he said again. But the baby had other ideas - she let out a loud cry. John looked from the baby to Rodney and back again helplessly.

"Take care of your daughter," Rodney said quietly. "We'll talk tomorrow." He turned and left the room.

John returned to the bed and picked up his daughter, settling himself against the headboard with her cradled to his chest. She pulled his hair and babbled happily. "Hey, sweetie," he said to her, tilting his head so that she could get a better grip on her favorite toy. "Your daddy's an ass," he told her conversationally. She squawked affirmatively at him and tried to eat his hair.

At 6:15am, John stood outside Rodney's door with the baby in his arms. He knocked, then let himself in.

Rodney was sitting up in bed, hair askew, blinking owlishly. "What? What's broken? What happened?"

John sat down on the bed and handed the baby to Rodney, who smiled down at her automatically. She cooed in greeting and blew a spit bubble.

"I'm sorry," John said. "I didn't mean what I said and I'm a jerk and I'm sorry."

"It's okay,' Rodney sighed, trying to hand the baby back. "It's understandable, I guess. I'm not exactly known for loving kids."

"But you do," John said, crossing his arms and refusing to take his daughter back. "You love her, don't you?"

Rodney settled the baby in the crook of his arm and brushed a hand over her crazy hair. "Yeah, I guess I do."

"Will you be her godfather?" John asked.

Rodney looked stunned. "But, but... I don't even believe in God!" he spluttered.

"It's more of an honorary thing,' John said. "I just want to know that she'd be taken care of, if something happened to me."

"You'd leave me your child? Are you crazy?" Rodney got up to pace, still holding the baby.

"You love her - you'd do right by her," John said. "Please?"

Rodney stopped pacing and stared at John. "I... I'd be honored, Colonel."

"Well, then," John said. "Let's go say goodbye to Aiden and give Carson her name."

"She has a name?" Rodney looked from the baby to John and back. "What's her name?"

"Jillian Kay Sheppard," John said, walking close enough to touch his daughter's cheek.

"What's the K for?" Rodney asked.

"Not the letter K,' John explained. "K-A-Y. Jill means 'sweetheart,' and Kay is for her godfather."

"You...for me?" Rodney looked absolutely flabbergasted.

"Yeah," John said quietly. "For you."

Rodney cleared his throat and clutched the baby - Jillian - closer to his chest. He brushed past John and headed for the door. "Do you have the list of supplies?"

"Yeah," John said, patting his shirt pocket.

"Well, come on, then," Rodney said. John didn't even bother trying to hide his smile as he followed.

(3)

"Rodney!" John's voice came over the radio sounding quiet but frantic, and Rodney could hear Jill wailing in the background.

He looked up from his laptop and touched his earpiece. "Why are you up? Why is my goddaughter up? It's 4:00 in the morning."

"Please come over here, Rodney. Please. I'll give you a million dollars and my favorite Jumper." John sounded really desperate, and Jill's crying ramped up a notch.

"Fine," Rodney huffed. "I'm on my way."

When the door to John's room opened, Rodney couldn't tell who looked worse, John or the baby. John was as white as a sheet and his hair looked like a bird's nest. There was drool all over his tee shirt.

Jillian was screaming, her face beet-red, and her hair was standing up on her head in total disarray. "She won't stop." John's face went one more shade of pale, which brought it down to almost transparent. "She won't stop."

"Okay, okay," Rodney said, stepping inside and closing the door. The room was a mess - blankets and toys thrown everywhere, an obvious cleared trail where John had been pacing. "Give her here."

John looked at him with such gratitude when he handed the baby over that Rodney blushed. Jill quieted for about half a second at the changeover, then started wailing again.

"You fed her, you changed her; you tried warmer, cooler, laying on her stomach, laying on her back?" Rodney went through the checklist. John nodded dumbly at each item.

"Go sit down," Rodney said, "before you fall down." John immediately sat on the edge of the bed, putting his elbows on his knees and his head into his hands. He looked up just enough to let his eyes track back and forth as Rodney followed the cleared path, bouncing the howling baby gently in his arms, face scrunched up in thought.

"She won't stop," John said, dropping his face into his hands. "I can't do this. I broke her. I suck at this. I'm the worst father ever."

"Hush," Rodney said. "Thinking here." He made two more circuits of the room before stopping in his tracks. He walked to the bed and pushed a knee against John's. "Move over."

John moved, and watched with tired eyes as Rodney put Jill on her back on the bed, then picked up her feet, moving her legs in a bicycling motion. She continued screaming for a minute or so, then quieted and got a funny look on her face. Rodney kept gently moving her legs, and she farted, loud and long. She did it three more times in quick succession.

John watched, dumbfounded as her eyes started to droop. Rodney reached out for one of John's hands and laid it on Jill's belly. "Feel that?" he said.

John's eyes brightened. "Gurgling," he said.

"Gas," Rodney said. "It hurts like a bitch. You can do the bicycle thing or rub her tummy in a downward motion. The Daedalus will also bring you some drops for it; they were on the list."

Rodney walked over to the drawer that housed all of Jill's supplies and came back with wipes and a diaper and changed her quickly. He picked her up, kissed her lightly on the forehead and put her into her cradle, tucking a blanket around her. He rocked the cradle for a minute and watched as she fell into an exhausted sleep.

He turned around to find John staring at him. "What?" he said.

"You...and...she...oh, my god." John babbled, and he looked close to tears.

"Go to bed," Rodney said gently, "she'll be up in a few hours to eat. Sleep while you can."

John still looked frozen in place, so Rodney moved to him and pulled him to his feet. He set about straightening John's sheets and blanket, then pushed him back into a sitting position before manhandling him into bed. John closed his eyes, and Rodney moved across the room to check on Jillian one last time.

He was almost to the door when he heard John's hushed voice. He looked back to see John's eyes wide open, huge in his pale face. "I can't sleep," he said quietly.

Rodney sighed and moved over to the bed. He kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the foot of the bed and made his way to the top. He got his feet under the covers and his back against the wall before pulling John over on his side. John immediately curled up, resting his head on Rodney's hip and throwing an arm over his waist.

Rodney sighed, then put his hand on John's back, rubbing softly. He knew his spine would be completely screwed in the morning, but he smiled at the little noises John made as he fell asleep - just like his daughter - and decided it was worth it.

(4)

"It's like Christmas," John said, opening yet another box. "What is all this stuff?"

Rodney grabbed the package out of John's hand and flipped it over. "These are bags that go inside the bottles. It says they cause less gas."

John snatched the package back. "I love this box," he said fervently. "This box and the one with the purple stuff."

"You're still kind of scarred from the gas incident, aren't you?" Rodney unwrapped a soft blanket and dangled the fringe in front of Jill's face where she was tucked between two pillows on the merchandise-strewn bed.

"Yes," John said simply, watching his daughter grab at the fabric and frown in concentration.

"Colonel Sheppard?" It was Caldwell's voice over the com.

"Sir?" John said.

"We're ready to beam down the last of it. Hermiod says to stand clear of the center of the room."

John glanced around - he, Rodney and Jill were comfortably sprawled on the bed and had no intention of leaping to the center of the room anyway. "Clear," John said.

There was a quick flash of white light, and several large boxes appeared on the floor. Rodney glanced at them critically.

"Crib, changing table, high chair, swing...that's it - you're going to have to get bigger quarters," Rodney said. "She's got enough stuff to have her own room now."

John tried to school his features, but the way Rodney's eyebrows shot up let him know he'd been too late. He frowned when Rodney started laughing at him.

"Oh, my god - your face!" Rodney wheezed. "You can't stand the thought of her having her own room! You're going to have a heart attack when she wants to date!"

John felt himself go pale.

"Whoa," Rodney said, gripping his shoulder. "What just happened?"

"Head rush," John said, leaning into the touch a little. "The universe just got really small for a second."

"Idiot," Rodney said fondly. "I'm going to have to revise my estimation of your intelligence if you keep having these moments where you realize that she's real. Especially if you keep having them every couple of days."

John reached out to tug on Jill's toes, making her squawk happily. Real, he thought. She's real. I'm going to have her forever. The thought filled him with both joy and dread. He glanced at Rodney, who was giving him a slightly worried look.

"Is it gonna warp her if she doesn't have her own room for a while yet?" he asked.

Rodney grinned and squeezed John's shoulder. "Probably not. Wait too long, though, and you'll be sleeping in matching princess toddler beds, and I solemnly swear that I will post photos on the Atlantis intranet."

"There's a princess toddler bed?" John asked, looking around.

"Oh, there will be," Rodney said.

(5)

John came in to the lab, tired and annoyed from a day of boring paperwork to find Rodney sitting in his office. However, Rodney was not working. He was sitting in his chair with his elbows on the desk. His hands were laced together in front of him with his chin resting atop them. Directly in front of him was the car seat that held Jillian. They'd joked that the car seat was utterly superfluous in a galaxy that didn't even have cars, but the jumper had surprised them by popping up an eight-point restraint system as soon as they carried it aboard. It was also invaluable for the fact that Jillian loved to sleep in it.

That's what she was doing - sleeping serenely while Rodney stared at her. He had a look on his face that John needed a number of words to describe. "Awed," was one, but that was pretty much the way Rodney looked at her all the time. "Thoughtful" and "wistful" and "sad" also came to mind. John didn't disturb him; he just leaned in the doorway and watched Rodney watch his daughter.

"Teyla would have been too difficult," Rodney said, not even looking up from his careful observation of Jill. "Eggs and whatnot. Woman stuff."

"Yeah," John said.

"It couldn't have been about the gene, because Ford didn't have it." Rodney still hadn't moved.

"Do you think it was because of your allergies?" John straightened up when Jillian made a squawking sound, and Rodney moved back, allowing John to pick up the car seat and swing it gently while he smiled at her.

"Doubtful," Rodney said. "I have the second strongest gene next to yours. That had to be worth something."

"Yeah," John said, looking down at Jill's big blue eyes staring back up at him. Everyone told him that they'd change, but he really hoped they'd stay.

"Yeah," Rodney said, lifting his chin and letting his entwined hands fall to the surface of the desk.

"What are you saying, Rodney?" John asked, but his stomach lurched, because he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

"I think there was one," Rodney said, never looking up from the desk. "Mine. And I think it was culled."

Jill chose that exact moment to start wailing - her "feed me now or you will have no peace ever again" sound. John swung the carrier up enough to pat her belly and stick her pacifier in her mouth.

"C'mon," he said softly. "Do you want to go to dinner with us?"

Rodney looked up, and John almost stepped back from the resignation and pain etched clearly on his face.

"No," Rodney said quietly. "I think I want to be alone."

(6)

Rodney was working in his third favorite lab - incidentally scaring the shit out of the scientists who normally worked there - when John called him over the comm.

"McKay. I need you in the gateroom right now."

"On my way," Rodney said. "Gear or no gear?"

"No gear. Sheppard out."

Rodney sighed and headed for the gateroom. He'd managed to avoid Sheppard (and Jill) for nearly a week, retreating to out-of-the-way labs and triple-locking his door at night. It just seemed better that way. He was having a hard time; he felt like he was mourning something totally uncertain. He didn't know if he even had the right.

Heightmeyer said he should mourn, if that's what he seemed to need, so he was trying to get his head around that. She'd also said that he should name "the child" and he had flat-out refused. He'd stopped talking to her after that, but he still wondered if he was being self-indulgent at the cost of his relationship with Jillian.

Well, he couldn't avoid Sheppard forever. At least he'd likely be alone in the gateroom.

Not so much. The gate was already dialed, the wall of water blue and smooth. Elizabeth was on the mezzanine, the techs were in place, and Sheppard had a geared-up team ready at the gate. Sheppard was holding Jill. When Rodney walked up, frowning, John shoved Jill into his arms and slipped the not-a-diaper-bag over Rodney's shoulder.

"Gotta go," John said. He moved close to kiss Jill's head and to grin at Rodney, then turned and walked through the wormhole with his team right behind him.

The baby looked up at Rodney with a gummy smile. "What am I going to do with you?" he asked.

Noticing that it was noon, Rodney carried Jill to the mess hall. He realized that he'd forgotten her familiar weight. It felt like she'd gained a few ounces. He'd have to ask Carson.

Rodney walked to the team table to put the bag down. Teyla was there - Ronon having gone to...wherever...with Sheppard.

"Would you like me to..." Teyla started, and Rodney hoped she wasn't going to ask to hold Jill. He kind of didn't want to let her go.

Teyla finished her thought. "...get your tray?"

"Oh," Rodney said. "That would be great. I...uh...don't know what they have."

"Do not worry," Teyla said with an indulgent smile. "I am familiar with your favorites by now."

Rodney looked around the room and noticed that everyone else was staying in their seats and paying attention to their tablemates rather than coming by to see Jill, or even aim stupid grins at whoever was holding her, like usual. Sheppard must be behind it, Rodney thought, and he realized that the whole thing was a set-up. Sheppard had wanted him out of his funk and back to his infatuation with his goddaughter, and most of the base seemed to be in on the plan, with no one doing anything to interrupt Rodney and Jill's reunion. If he'd been that sort of person, Rodney would have been touched.

Teyla came back with a tray of food for Rodney and a perfectly-warmed bottle for Jill. The mess staff always kept bottles for Jill stashed in the cooler, and they were already pulling together recipes for when they could formulate homemade baby food.

Rodney settled Jill in the crook of his arm and popped the bottle into her mouth, holding it with one hand so he could eat with the other. Usually, someone - or several someones - would offer to feed Jill so he or John could eat. This time, no one disturbed them. Teyla really had remembered his favorites, right down to knowing that he preferred white gravy on his mashed potatoes and brown gravy on his meatloaf.

"Thanks," Rodney said, shoving a bite of food into his mouth.

Teyla smiled. "It is good to see the two of you back together."

Rodney swallowed and looked at her. "We're not...I mean, Sheppard and I aren't...together." He kept his voice low.

Teyla's smile got broader. "Not you and John," she said. "You and Jillian."

"Gimme the stats." Rodney snapped his fingers at Carson, who rolled his eyes.

"She gained five and a half ounces and she's a little bit longer. She seems to be in a growth spurt - she's eating all the time." Carson tickled Jill's belly as she lay in Rodney's lap. "She's been keeping her Dad up 'til all hours with her demands."

Rodney felt a tiny bit guilty at that, but squashed the feeling. "Can she eat food yet?" he asked.

Carson wrinkled up his nose. "I'd like to stay with the formula for now. If she was a breast baby I'd say keep her exclusively on a liquid diet for a few months yet..."

"Yes, yes," Rodney said. "Neither of us has the equipment."

"We'll reassess in a week or so, see if she's still eating quite so much and so frequently before we make any dietary changes."

"Okay," Rodney said, and turned to leave. He stopped in the doorway and turned back to Carson. "I'm assuming you were in on this whole plan to make me get my head out of my ass?" When Carson's face flushed red, he had his answer. He left with a curt nod, but he smiled as he walked down the hall.

Sheppard and the rest of the team didn't come back until an hour after sundown. Rodney was waiting in John's room reading a report, Jill sleeping peacefully in her new crib.

"Shh," Rodney whispered, and John walked very quietly, putting the tac vest he was carrying down in the corner. He was sunburned and dirty, and his hair was more disheveled than usual. He smelled like crushed grass, fresh air, and sweat. He came to sit next to Rodney on the bed.

"Hey," he said.

"You went to the Alpha site and played football, didn't you?"

John had the good grace to look sheepish.

"Thought so," Rodney said. "And you probably checked in with Teyla all day, didn't you?" Rodney kept his face studiously blank.

"Elizabeth," John admitted, looking at Rodney sideways.

Rodney sat his report aside and pulled one knee up on the bed so he could face John. "Well," he said, clearing his throat. "I guess...thank you."

At that, John turned and smiled at him, and it was one of the smiles he usually reserved for Jillian - open and happy and kind of sweet. Rodney smiled back, and John's face got serious.

"I know you're dealing with some stuff, Rodney. I don't want to intrude on that." John was twisting his hands in his lap. "But she needs you. We need you."

Rodney nodded, trying to believe it. "Okay," he said.

(7)

John went offworld for six days and Rodney took the baby. Well, it was more like she took him - he moved into John's room so she would have a familiar environment. John's bed sucked, so Rodney conscripted two large Marines to move John's out and his own in. He also made them move all of his computers and his most important equipment in, and by dinner time, Jill had two daddies - one of whom was offworld for six days.

"I hear you moved," Elizabeth said at breakfast the next morning. Rodney was magnanimously allowing Elizabeth to feed Jill her bottle while he ate his French toast.

"She needs me," Rodney said, shrugging. "Since her father abandoned her and all." He gave Elizabeth a small smile to show he was joking, and she went back to cooing at Jill.

"I went to your place first," John said quietly. He sounded annoyed. "Your quarters were practically empty! Your bed was gone!"

"It's right there," Rodney said, pointing. "And you don't have to whisper - she's awake. Here, burp her. I gotta pee." He handed the baby over, expertly slinging the burp cloth over John's shoulder. John settled her and started patting, then frowned at Rodney.

"I'm still armed, you ass! I can't believe you handed me the baby!"

"So don't shoot her," Rodney said. "I'll be back in a minute."

Okay, so he actually did have to pee, but it was mostly a delaying tactic. He hadn't expected John until the next night, and he'd hoped that by then he'd have all his stuff moved back and no one would be the wiser. No one except the whole base, but none of them would risk Rodney's wrath by ratting him out to John.

Well, that was a moot point - John had pre-ratted him out without even knowing what he was doing. Rodney was holding his hands under the ice-cold water when John opened the bathroom door. He'd taken off his tac vest and sidearm, and the baby was nowhere in evidence.

"Not even you can wash your hands that long," John said, and Rodney turned the water off and reached for a towel.

John leaned against the door frame. "Why are you living in my room?" he said, no accusation in his tone at all.

"She needed me," Rodney said simply, hanging up the towel. "Why are you back early?"

John reached up and rubbed the back of his neck and looked sheepish. "I needed her," he said.

Rodney rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help being a little charmed. He pushed John out of the way and walked over to Jill's crib. Satisfied that she was sleeping quietly, he moved to the desk, gathering his uniform trousers.

"You can't go," John said, and Rodney looked up at him, frowning. John rolled his eyes. "Your bed is here, Rodney. Where would you sleep?"

"I was just going to go to the lab," Rodney said. "I'm up, you're home. My work here is done." He felt like crap, but there really was no reason to stay. "I'll get the beds switched out later." He started pulling his trousers on over his pajama pants.

"Hey," John said. "Could you stay? I'd...I'd like it if you'd tell me about her week. I missed her a lot." John looked sheepish again, but he smiled at Rodney kind of shyly.

"Fine," Rodney said, tossing his pants back over the chair. "But go take a shower. You smell like..." Rodney's head came up, his eyes narrowing. "You smell like a firefight. What the hell were you doing getting shot at?" He threw his hands up in frustration. "What were you thinking? You knew we were waiting for you; you knew we'd...if you..."

Rodney's tirade was cut off by a sharp cry from Jill. He realized that he'd been almost shouting. With a quick step, he cut off John's attempt to get to Jill first. "I've got her," he blustered. "Go get a shower."

Rodney picked Jill up and sat down on his bed, moving up to sit with his back to the headboard. "Sorry, sweetie," he said. "Didn't mean to wake you." Jill made a couple of quiet grumpy sounds, then settled down.

Rodney wanted to bang his head on the wall. We were waiting, he'd said. We. He and Jill, he reminded himself, were not a we. He and John were not a we. John and Jill - they were a we, and Rodney was not a part of that. He'd let himself forget.

Rodney didn't realize that he'd drifted off until he felt Jill being removed from his arms. He could smell the soap on John's skin, feel the drops of water dripping off his hair. Rodney kept his eyes closed, kept his breathing steady.

John lifted Jill fully and turned to put her back in her crib. As soon as John's back was turned, Rodney stood up reached for his trousers.

"Hey," John said, laying Jill down and tucking her in. "I thought you were going to give me the report."

"Tomorrow," Rodney said, pulling up his pants and buttoning them. "I shouldn't be seen coming out of your quarters too long after you've gotten in." He waved his hand around. "Marines and whatnot." He put his jacket on over his tee shirt and stepped into his shoes. He didn't look at John as he went to the door.

"Rodney," John said quietly. "You don't have to..."

Rodney stopped, but didn't turn around. "Yeah," he said, just as quietly as John had spoken. "Yeah, I do."

John didn't move, but Rodney heard him sigh. "Will you come back tomorrow?"

"Why?" Rodney still didn't turn around.

"Tomorrow's her sort-of birthday. Four months." Rodney half-smiled - John sounded so smug.

"Big party planned?" Rodney asked, trying to work up some enthusiasm.

"No," John said from behind him. "Small one. I just thought we should celebrate - the three of us."

Rodney swallowed hard. "Okay," he said hoarsely, and it took every bit of his strength to walk out the door.

(8)

People kept borrowing the baby. Teyla ("Colonel, it is important that Jillian interact with other children."), Ronon ("Chicks like it when you have one of these."), Lorne ("Fingerpaints!"), Elizabeth ("I was going for a walk anyway..."), even Cadman ("girl stuff!") managed to weasel Jill out of John's arms and spirit her away somewhere.

After the second day of his unwilling Jill-less-ness, John showed up at Rodney's lab, put-upon expression firmly in place. "Dingoes took my baby," he said mournfully.

Rodney snorted coffee straight up his nose. Once he could breathe again, he called up a map of the city on his monitor.

"There," Rodney said, pointing to a blip moving toward the mess hall.

John goggled. "Please tell me you didn't have Carson give her a transmitter."

"No," Rodney said. "I programmed the sensors to detect humans weighing less than twenty pounds. By the way, Sergeant Kaplan is pregnant. Twins."

John goggled at him again.

"Hmmm," Rodney mused. "She's a lesbian...I wonder what that's all about."

"Rodney," John said. "You can't tell me stuff like that. There are regs, you know."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "If SGC is okay with your space-alien clone baby, they should be okay with a couple of lesbians. And a guy, apparently."

"That's your space-alien clone goddaughter you're talking about," John said. "And she's not a clone - Carson said."

"Yeah," Rodney said with a goofy smile. He snapped out of it. He poked John in the chest. "You. Go. Pack. Outdoors stuff. I'll get Jill."

John just stood there.

Rodney poked him again. "Move, Colonel." He pushed past John and headed out.

In the mess hall, Elizabeth had Jill on her lap while Cadman and Parrish cooed at her.

"Party's over," Rodney said, snapping his fingers. Jill turned to him with a big drooly smile and held her arms up. Rodney grabbed her off of Elizabeth's lap and settled her in the crook of his elbow.

"We're taking a couple of days off," Rodney told Elizabeth, snaring the not-a-diaper bag. "Zelenka and Lorne can keep the peace."

"Colonel Sheppard's going, too?" Elizabeth said weakly.

"Yes," Rodney said. "He is her father." As he swept out, he heard Parrish say, "What just happened?"

John was waiting outside Rodney's door with a duffle bag at his feet. When Jill saw him, she squealed happily and reached out. Rodney tried very hard not to notice how good John smelled when they leaned close together to transfer Jill.

"I stole your baby back from the dingoes," Rodney said dryly. He opened his door and grabbed John's bag. Jill had both hands in her daddy's hair, and John was so enthralled that Rodney had to pull him into the room. Rodney opened the duffle and threw some of his own clothes on top of John's and Jill's.

"Let's go," Rodney said, shouldering both bags. He led John down the hall.

When they stepped out of the transporter, John finally took notice. "Hey, Rodney," he said. "Where are we going?"

"Jumper bay," Rodney said.

Lorne met them at the door with a cooler. "Courtesy of the kitchen staff," he said, and led the way up the ramp to Jumper One. "Also, you're cleared for takeoff and for forty-eight hours leave. Halling says you can use the cottage on the east beach."

"Sweet," Rodney said.

"Seriously," John said. "What's going on?"

It wasn't lost on Rodney that the eastern shore cottage was often used by the Athosians as a honeymoon getaway. It was a medium-sized log structure that had a small lounge/dining room/kitchen, a bathroom, and a single bedroom dominated by a huge bed.

"No crib." Rodney snapped his fingers. "I knew I was forgetting something!"

"Yeah," John said. "The Athosians do the family bed thing. We'll just have to put her between us."

"We could roll over and squish her," Rodney protested. "It's not safe."

"Ease up, Rodney," John said. "You know we're both light sleepers when we're away from home. It'll be fine. Let's go to the beach."

Still not totally convinced, Rodney unpacked his swim trunks and went into the bathroom to change. When he came out, the cottage was empty. As he stepped out the door, he could see John heading for the water with Jill. John was wearing his boxers and Jill was stark naked, laughing as John held her up at arm's length and grinned at her. Rodney's chest went tight and he had to swallow hard around the lump in his throat.

It was such a cliché, but together they were beauty in motion - John swooping a laughing Jillian through the air and making airplane noises. They were just so obviously happy. Then, John caught sight of Rodney and turned that blinding grin away from Jill for a split-second.

"C'mon, Rodney," John called. "Let's play."

Two rounds of sunscreen and an extremely structurally unsound sandcastle later, Rodney went in for food. He came back with two sandwiches and a bottle of formula. John was sitting at the water's edge with Jillian perched on his lap. She was facing out toward the ocean and leaning trustingly back against John's chest. She squealed every time the incoming waves broke over John's feet to soak their legs.

When John noticed Rodney, he stood and turned; Jill fussed at him for taking her away from the water. Jill brightened when she saw Rodney and reached out with both hands...for the bottle. Rodney let her have it, then passed John a sandwich.

"I think she inherited her appetite from you," John said through a mouthful of turkey and cheese.

"Very funny," Rodney said. He used the hand that wasn't holding his lunch to steady Jill's bottle. He kept his eyes on Jill. He looked at her face - eyes closed, mouth working - and her silly, wispy hair and her chubby fingers clenched against the plastic of the bottle. Keeping his eyes on her was safe. Rodney knew that if he didn't keep his eyes on her, he'd look down. And looking down would be a bad idea, because John was wearing nothing but a pair of wet boxer shorts, and they would be clinging to John's body from his hips to his thighs.

"Here," John said when Rodney looked back up from his study of Jill. He handed Rodney Jill's mostly-empty bottle and swung her up onto his shoulder and burped her. "Nap time," John said, then strode up the beach with Jill still on his shoulder; she blinked back at Rodney with sleepy eyes.

The thin wet cloth of John's boxers clung to his ass, and Rodney was helpless to do anything but watch, not even noticing when the last of his sandwich fell from his fingers.

"Well, come on," John said, and Rodney followed. Inside, he put Jill on the bed. "Watch her," he said. Rodney diapered Jill, then sat next to her on the bed and rubbed her back while she muttered sleepily to herself. When John came out of the bathroom, Rodney turned, then fixed his eyes on John's face, not looking at the golden skin of John's belly and the dry boxers he was wearing.

Rodney gestured to the baby. "We could, uh, box her in with pillows? Make sort of a fortress?"

John climbed onto the bed and wormed his way under the soft Athosian blanket, then pulled Jill under with him.

"Yeah, okay," Rodney said. "That would work, too."

"Yeah," John said, settling Jill down onto her tummy. "Block off her escape on that side, will ya?"

Rodney blinked for a moment, then quickly exchanged his damp trunks for dry boxers. He slid into the bed, and Jill made a little grumbly noise. Rodney automatically put a hand on her back to rub soothingly. He jumped when John's hand came down to rest on top of his. John's palm was soft and hot, and when Rodney went to move his hand away, John's fingers curled to hold him in place. Rodney's breath caught when John's thumb swept back and forth, barely brushing against the sensitive skin at the edge of Rodney's palm.

Beneath their hands, Jill snored softly.