"How do you know Jaffer's okay?" Emmett asked curiously as they all watched the labs, Daniel and Teal'c leave the infirmary. "The doctor's right; he's covered in blood."

Jack shrugged – which really hurt.

"I can tell when he's hurt."

"How?"

"He looks different, I guess."

"We have a bed ready for you, Colonel." One of the medics told him, coming over to presumably help him get changed into the gown he was holding in his hand. Jack frowned. He wasn't wearing a gown! He didn't need to stay overnight – but he was going to have to – but no one could make him wear a gown.

"Sam? Would you go get me a pair of sweats, or shorts? Anything you can find in my locker to wear besides that?"

She smiled.

"I'll be right back."

She'd have to hurry, too. Otherwise she was going to end up walking into the locker room when the rest of the team was showering – not that Sam cared if she saw Daniel and Teal'c naked, and they probably wouldn't care, either, but she'd distract the dogs that were getting bathed, and being swarmed over by two excited and very wet (not to mention bloody) dogs was not a fun thing. Unless you wanted to shower, too. Which she didn't.

"How much longer until Doctor Fraiser's out of surgery?" Jack asked the medic that was holding the unnecessary paper gown.

He shrugged.

"I can let you know when she's out, if you like, Sir..."

"You do that." Jack looked over at the row of beds the infirmary had to offer. Most of them were filling up with patients who were going to be kept overnight, just to make sure they weren't hurt too badly. "Which bed am I in?"

"The one on the end."

That was the one Sam had been in. Jack smiled, although he knew he wouldn't be able to smell her scent on the pillow or anything. It was still poetic.

"Fine. I'll go over there on my own. I don't need help."

"But-"

Jack scowled, and chased the medic away with a dirty look. Bregman couldn't help but smile.

"What are you grinning about?" Jack asked, standing up and gesturing for the reporter to follow him as he walked down to the other end of the room.

"Are you always this grumpy?"

Jack shook his head.

"Only when I'm stuck in here."

He reached out with his right hand and slapped the foot of SG-10's CO as he walked past her bed. She was in a cast that covered her entire torso and most of her right arm and she looked slightly drugged up. But she grinned and managed a wave to acknowledge Jack's hello.

"You're the second in command here, though, right?"

"Of the SGC," Jack confirmed.

"So... don't you outrank everyone in here?"

"Yup."

"Then you're not really stuck in here, are you?" Emmett asked. "I mean... you could just get up and leave, right?"

Jack smiled, and stopped next to the bed he'd been pointed to. Drawing the curtain around it, he awkwardly started pulling off his pants. He didn't want the blood on his uniform to smear the clean sheets, after all.

"I could," he said. "But I'll tell you something, and you keep it to yourself, you understand?"

Emmett nodded, grabbing O'Neill's Beretta once more as it started to fall from his waistband.

"Thanks." Jack took the gun and put it on the stand by the bed. Undressing one-handed sucked.

"You were saying...?" Emmett pressed.

Jack smiled.

"The medical staff here is top-notch." He said, sitting down on the bed and pulling the blankets over himself with his good hand. "Not only Fraiser, but the people she has around her. The corpsmen. The nurses. The research people. All of them are the best there is anywhere in the world. As much as I complain, I'm not stupid. If they want me to stay overnight, then there's a reason. If I'm grumpy, and they hate dealing with me being grumpy, and they still want me to stay, then I know there's a real reason for it. I'd be an idiot not to do what they tell me."

"So you're just gauging how serious you're hurt, by how much they insist you stay?"

"Something like that." Jack confirmed. "Doctors don't always like to tell their patients just how badly they're injured, you know. I learned that a long time ago."

"That's pretty clever."

"Just keep it to yourself."

Bregman nodded.

"So, do you think Janet's really going to be okay?" He asked, suddenly, thinking Jack would know more if the medics were acting overly optimistic just to keep everyone else from worrying.

"Yeah. I saw the wound. Fraiser got lucky – it could have been a lot worse. Probably it was just a glancing shot."

"That's lucky?"

"Hurts a lot less than a direct hit." Jack told him, giving him a wry smile.

"That sounds like experience talking."

"Uh huh."

OOOOOOOOO

He was still talking to Jack when Sam returned a few minutes later. She came around the curtain without warning and smiled to see him already in his bed.

"Need help with these?"

She held up a pair of sweats.

Jack smiled.

"Not in mixed company, I don't."

Bregman smiled, too.

"Should I leave you two alone?"

"Nah." Sam tossed the sweats onto the bed, and reached over and picked up his bloody Beretta. "You and I are going to go have a cup of coffee while we wait and see how Janet comes through her surgery, and Colonel O'Neill here is going to take it easy for a while."

"Sam, I'm-"

"It's the doctor's orders, Jack," she told him. "I'll take care of your gun for you. You get some rest. I'll see you in a bit."

"But-"

Sam leaned over and kissed him softly, smothering whatever argument he might have been planning to make.

"I love you," she whispered.

He sighed, and gave her a one-armed hug.

"You won't be gone too long, will you?"

"Nope."

"I love you, too."

She smiled and straightened up.

"Come on, Emmett. Let's go get something to eat."

"Hey! You just said you were having coffee..." Jack protested. He wanted something to eat, too.

"We might find a donut or a piece of pie that needs dealing with..." Sam told him, hooking her arm through the reporter's, and leading him out from behind the curtains. They could hear Jack grumbling to himself about the unfairness of it all even as they walked down the aisle formed by the beds.

Emmett had a feeling he'd just been allowed onto the inside of a very personal moment between the two, and that they'd done it deliberately to keep his mind off how worried he was about Janet Fraiser. He squeezed Sam's hand, silently thanking her for that, and she smiled, as if to tell him he was welcomed.

"Pie?"

"Sounds great," he told her.