Who's Your Daddy?

Disclaimer: Not mine, darn it. I'll return them to Double Secret Productions and MGM when I am done playing.

REPOST to correct important typo.

The annual SGC off-world barbecue was going along swimmingly. Jack O'Neill was so pleased to see his kids relaxed and enjoying themselves that he couldn't even resent having been banished from the grill before he managed to get a good char on the first round of burgers and dogs.

Jack leaned back on a blanket, Guinness in hand. On his left, a blissed-out Samantha Carter savored her last bite of the killer chocolate cake. At his right hand, a moderately inebriated Daniel Jackson stared owlishly down the beach. There Teal'c and the scantily clad Vala were demolishing all comers at volleyball. The bikini might not be regulation, but nobody was complaining about it.

All was just about perfect in the realm of O'Neill ┘ except there it was again. The itching at the back of his neck that just screamed to his battle trained senses that he was being watched. But every time Jack turned to catch the watcher, those eyes were sliding away.

"What the hell is going on with Mitchell? He's as jumpy as a replicator on crack. You haven't been overwhelming him with tales of my bravery, cunning and resourcefulness as a commander, have you?"

The Carter giggle bubbled out.

"Yeah, right." Daniel snorted into his beer.

"C'mon, kids. A pilot should have that kind of bunny in the headlights look facing a whole squadron of death gliders, not a mild-mannered old two-star like me. Gimme a sit-rep."

The ingrained tone of command brought Carter as close to attention as a woman lounging in the sand could manage. "Well, sir, we may have mentioned how Cam has read all of our mission reports cover-to-cover, even Daniel's footnotes. So we decided to pull a little prank on him. Make him think there's a file that he missed. A file having to do with him."

Daniel chortled as evilly as a twice ascended being could. "It came to me last year when we celebrated his birthday. Mitchell was born nine months almost to the day after we left 1969. And, Jack, you did spend quite a bit of time with that friend of Jenny's we met up with in Amarillo. That was in all of our reports."

"Add in Cam's feelings that he's gotten some undeserved breaks along the way, and it wasn't hard to plant the idea that you might have been taking a special interest in his career, sir." Carter finished.

"A fatherly interest, Jack." Daniel hammered the point home gleefully.

"Aw, crap! Tell me you're kidding." Jack O'Neill looked at two of his three dearest friends in the world and saw their confusion that he wasn't appreciating the joke.

"We all know it's not true, sir. Cam doesn't bear any resemblance to you, to start with."

"But, he's going to dig, Carter. You know us flyboys. Not one of us could leave it there."

"So let him dig, Jack. I mean, there's nothing for him to find, is there?" Daniel peered into his friend's eyes. Uh-oh. "Or is there, Jack?"

Jack O'Neill smirked the tiny little smirk known to drive half the galaxy wild with frustration. "Of course, he won't find anything, Danny. I'd never leave a trail to be found. So if I had helped a headstrong young pilot avoid a court-martial, nothing would ever trace back to me. I'd certainly never put a Lt. Colonel or say a young major under my direct command." Jack unwound his long, lean length from the blanket and started down toward the volleyball game.

"No, I'd shepherd his career from at least couple levels removed." Jack threw back over his shoulder.

Two sets of blue eyes goggled at Jack's retreating form. Sam and Daniel turned to face each other in astonishment.

"You don't think ┘"

"It would explain the ATA gene."

"Hell, it would explain the hair!"