Author's note: Sorry guys. Night time seems to be the only time I can get any writing done lately... busy busy busy!
The afternoon passed far quicker and more smoothly than Shawn ever could have believed it would. After Shawn finished telling River and Ian about the plane crash, he'd told the other two they needed to tell him something else about them, and the conversation had turned to families.
River had pulled out a picture of his family. His mom and dad looked exactly like him; both blonde and deeply tanned, and posing in front of a lighthouse at a beautiful white sand beach with a small army of females around them.
"What do they do?"
"My dad's a professional surfer. My mom is his manager."
Which explained their tans. They were probably out in the sun all the time.
"These are your sisters?" Ian asked, taking the picture from River.
"Yup. Six sisters, all younger than me."
"They're cute."
River scowled, and Shawn decided it was a typical brother reaction. He had to admit; he thought they were cute, too. They were all blonde and tanned, ranging from probably 17 to a toddler who was clinging to River's mother's hand and holding a little bright red plastic shovel.
"They're a pain in the ass."
The way he said it, though, made Shawn smile, and Ian smirk. It was obvious he didn't mean it. River noticed, and the scowl deepened.
"They are! You try finding time in the bathroom with all those girls."
"I believe you," Ian told him. Clearly, though, he didn't.
"What do your folks do, Ian?" Shawn asked as he stacked the dishes from their lunch. They should have taken them to the kitchens a long time ago, but he and Ian had decided they'd just wait until dinner, and do it then.
"My dad's retired Air Force. He's a fire inspector, now. My mom's a dancer."
"A dancer?" River's eyes widened, and he grinned. It was Ian's turn to scowl.
"There's nothing wrong with dancing." He said, defensively.
"Can you dance?"
"Of course I can."
"Prove it."
"No chance in hell."
River grinned again.
"Hey," Ian said, still defensive. "Girls love it when a guy can dance."
"Who told you that?"
"No one. They do, though."
"He's right," Shawn agreed. "Girls like dancing."
Ian looked gratified at the backup, and River looked over at Shawn in surprise.
"Can you dance?"
"Of course I can."
"Let me guess; your mom's a dancer, too."
"Nope. But my... friend Gina's mom is a dance instructor. She taught Sam, and Sam taught me."
"Who's Sam?" They both asked.
Shawn pointed at the picture on the stand by his bed.
"Samantha Carter – well, O'Neill, now. She and Jack just got married."
"Jack's this guy?" Ian asked, pointing at the picture as well.
Shawn nodded.
"I thought he was your-"
"Why does that name sound familiar?" River interrupted.
"Jack?"
"No. Samantha Carter. I swear I've heard it somewhere."
"Her name is plastered all over the honor board in the hall," Shawn said, unable to hide his pride in the fact. "Sam went to school here."
"That's where it was," River agreed, reaching over and taking the picture from Ian. "She's some serious kind of genius, isn't she?"
"Yeah."
"What's she doing now?"
"Deep space telemetry."
"See, Adams? That's why you go to MIT or someplace like that. The military, in their infinite wisdom, is completely wasting the talents of a resident genius on something as lame as telemetry, when she could be working on finding the cure for cancer or something."
Shawn grinned.
"Sam's work is important."
"Uh huh." Ian didn't sound convinced.
"What are you planning on doing in the Air Force, Brooks?" River asked, wondering why someone who thought so little of the military was even in it in the first place.
Ian shrugged.
"I'll just find some people to boss around, I guess. Maybe run Area 51." He smirked. "That'd be a hoot. Maybe I'll find out who shot Kennedy. It was probably aliens."
That changed their line of conversation from families to their prospective futures, and as the afternoon wore on and it started getting late, the talk continued, the three of them using their enforced idleness to get to know each other. While some of the conversation was a little sharp at times – usually when River or Ian shot their mouths off a little too much – most of it was civil enough. Shawn found himself enjoying it, although he tended to steer the topic away from himself as much as possible when it came to his family background. Not that he was ashamed of his family, he just didn't want to have to lie to his friends – and he was beginning to think of them as his friends – about his relationship with Jack. But he couldn't really tell them the truth, either. So he evaded that as well as he could.
And so the day went, and evening came.
&&
"Jack?"
O'Neill opened his eyes, groggily, looking around. Sam was crouched in front of him, one hand resting on Jaffer – who had been sprawled on Jack while he slept – the other resting on Jack's shoulder. Jaffer opened his eyes when Sam touched him, but she noticed he didn't look like he felt all that well, either. When Jack opened his eyes, Sam smiled. Then he winced.
"Still hurts?" Sam asked, frowning.
"Yeah."
He rubbed his forehead, and Sam reached out and touched his face.
"You're not hot."
"I don't feel sick."
"You just have a headache..."
He nodded.
"Maybe we should call Janet? It might be something going around."
"Nah, it's probably just a migraine or something."
"You've never gotten them before..."
Jack shrugged.
"I'll call Janet and ask her."
"Okay."
He didn't really want her to, but he knew that it'd make Sam feel better if she talked to Fraiser, so he didn't argue. Didn't even pretend to argue. He really didn't feel like arguing anyways. Besides, maybe Janet knew something Jack didn't. Maybe there was something going around.
He closed his eyes, and felt her brush a kiss against his forehead.
"I'll let you know what she says."
Jack nodded, already drifting off to sleep again, his hand on Jaffer's side.