Title: Butterfly Kisses
Author: Venom_69

Category: Romance, humor. Baby!fic *Facepalm*
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Rating: PG
Summary: It’s baby!fic time…..
Spoilers: None.
Season/sequel: Part 5 in “Hate is such a strong word.”
Archive: SJ, Heliopolis, my site. Anywhere else, sure, just let me know where so I can come visit.
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, never will. Promise to put them back in the state I found them. Song isn’t mine either.
Author’s notes: For Feath, My dealer. ;-) I *love* the lyrics to this song. They bring tears to my eyes. I’ve always wanted to use it in a fic, now I can do it legitimately!
Feedback: Hell yeah! Don’t make me beg, hit reply and stroke my ego please.
Dedication: As always, for LEW.
Date: 10/01/2005
Copyright © to Venom, 2005

***

There two things I know for sure
She was sent here from heaven
And she’s Daddy’s little girl.

***

He was aware that he was staring. Very aware. But, damnit, she was so beautiful. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more perfect in his life. Ever. Cute little button nose. Pink cheeks. Tiny little fingers and toes.

And, most importantly, completely healthy and normal. No signs of Naquadah. Her cute little brown eyes didn’t glow. She wasn’t purple. She was perfect, she was healthy, and she was theirs.

Wow.

“Stop staring at her.” She was bossy even if she was lying in a hospital bed with a drip in her arm and a see-my-butt gown the only thing keeping her dignity in tact. Women!

“I’m allowed.”

“You’ll give her a complex about her looks.”

“Sam, she’s two hours old, I hardly think she’ll get a complex at this stage in her life.”

“Well, stop staring at her anyway.”

“Would you rather I stared at you?”

“Would you do it with that dopey expression?”

“Probably.”

“Then, no. Stare at the damn wall all something.”

“You still hate me, I gather?” He didn’t care now, two hours ago he met the most innocent angel in the world. It didn’t get much better than this.

“Jack, I have seven stitches between my legs from pushing *your* daughter into the world. They itch like crazy. I feel like an over stuffed balloon. My boobs are so hard it’s not funny. And that’s not even talking about the blood. Do you want to talk about the blood?”

He *so* didn’t want to talk about the blood. “No, I’m fine thanks.”

She snorted. In a lady-like kind of way. “Well, I’m glad *one* of us is.”

“Sam…”

“Don’t talk to me you asshole.”

“Sam.”

“Prick.”

“Sam!”

“What?”

“Will you stop bitching for two seconds and look at your daughter?” He picked the bundle up, mindful of his bandaged hand. She was wrapped in the cutest little pink blanket, and he held her like she was glass.

“She’s beautiful.”

“She takes after you.”

“Thank God for that.”

“Sam!”

“Hey you’re the one that knocked me up! You have no one to blame for my emotional state but yourself.”

Jack had really, really hoped that she would become rational after the baby was born. Apparently, it didn’t work like that. Damnit.

“Can you try to be civil to me for just a moment?”

“And why would I do that?”

“So we can name our daughter?” Sigh.

“I like Lee.”

“I like Heather.”

“Heather Lee?”

Looking at the tiny bundle in his arms, he thought the name suited her. But… it couldn’t be that easy, could it? They hadn’t managed to agree on food for dinner once in the last nine months, but they could name a baby that easily? No, no way. Not with Sam, it couldn’t be that easy.

“I like it.” Was it wise to ask her exactly what was in the IV?

Probably not.

“Me too.” He smile was soft.

His daughter was warm in his arms. “Hello Heather Lee Carter.”

“O’Neill.”

Good God what had he done now? “What?”

“Heather Lee O’Neill.”

Another O’Neill? His daughter was an O’Neill.

He was so ok with that.

Now he just had to work on making her mother one too.

***

So, I’m, like, done now, right? Right??