Once the groceries were put away Sam sent Jack back outside to finish the yard – despite his protests that it was cold and he was probably going to catch his death of a cold out there working his tail off. Completely unsympathetic – and unwilling to send him company – which would just slow him down, she sent Jaffer with him to keep him from getting too lonely and put Ian and Cassandra to work peeling apples for a pie she wanted to bake.

Cassandra could have kissed Sam for giving them a job that put them so close to each other – although Sam hadn't been so sure it was a good idea after the way Ian had sliced his wrist with the pomegranate. While Sam worked on pulling a ready-made pie crust from the wrapper, Ian and Cassandra stood side by side at the sink and Cassie started asking him questions, determined that he not be a stranger any longer than necessary.

"So..."

Ian looked over at her, then back down at his apple. He wasn't finding peeling apples all that exciting, but had been more than willing to help out – it wasn't like Sam was having him scrub the toilet, after all.

"Yeah?"

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

Cassie was silent, waiting for him to ask her how old she was – or some other question – but she discovered the same thing that young Corey Boatright had discovered earlier that day; Ian Brooks was not all that fond of small talk, and never did anything he didn't want to. At least not for someone he didn't know.

Cassie realized he wasn't going to say anything more, and wasn't at all phased. She didn't mind asking more questions. She was good at questions. Sam smiled, but tried to pretend that she wasn't listening in as Cassandra went on to the next question.

"Where are you from? Around here?"

"New Jersey."

"Wow. You like it there?"

"It's dirty and noisy."

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

She tried to make it sound casual, but Sam knew her well enough to know she was hanging on the answer.

"No."

Cassie's voice was positively gloating when she asked the next question, and again Sam hid her smile.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm an asshole," he said. "Nice girls don't date assholes, and I'm too much of a snob to date anything but a nice girl." He tossed his peeled apple into the bowl on the counter next to Cassandra - reaching around her, she was pleased to note - and reached for another from the bag he'd bought at the store earlier. "It's a catch 22, I suppose, but I have plenty of time to figure it out."

Cassandra was quiet, trying to figure out how to reply to that, and Sam was forced to leave the kitchen before she started laughing and gave away the fact that she'd been eavesdropping. She told them she was going to go check on Jack, and went out to the front yard where he was raking the last of the leaves that had fallen.

Jaffer came rushing over to her, and Sam sat down on the step, rubbing his ears as Jack came over, dragging his rake. He didn't really want to rake, anyways, and was glad for the distraction.

"What are you grinning about?" He asked as he came over and sat down next to her, leaning close so he could get a little loving of his own.

Sam looked behind her to make sure she'd closed the door, then rested her chin on his shoulder.

"Ian and Cassie."

"Oh? What about them?" He asked. "Am I going to have to have a talk with Ian?"

She giggled – a truly appealing sound as far as Jack was concerned.

"Oh, it's completely the other way around, and I think Ian's handling himself quite nicely."

"Oh yeah?" He scowled. "He's not being a jerk to her, is he?"

She shook his head.

"He told her why he doesn't have a girlfriend..."

"Do I want to know?"

She smiled, "I'll let you ask him sometime. The answer's really amusing – and somewhat introspective."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She kissed his cheek and stood up. Now that she'd had a chance to get over the giggles, she was ready to go back inside and finish her piecrust.

"You figure it out – or ask him."

He scowled, and watched as she went inside, closing the door behind her, and then looked down at Jaffer.

"I'm not asking him why he doesn't have a girlfriend," he told the black lab, firmly. He slapped Jaffer's side, dodging the wet tongue that automatically came rushing at him and stood up. "I'll ask Shawn to ask him – or maybe ask Cassie..."

Yeah, that's what he'd do. Picking up his rake, Jack went back to the yard work.

OOOOOOOOOO

Ian managed to make it through three apples before he cut himself. It wasn't even really his fault; he'd just finished an apple and was tossing it into the bowl at the same time Cassie was moving her knife under the sink to wash off apple goo, and the point of her knife cut along his wrist – almost in the exact spot that he'd cut himself earlier.

"Oh! Ian, I'm soo sorry!"

He bit back yet another curse he never would have thought twice about muttering if he'd been anywhere but in Sam's house – and jerked his hand away from her knife with a gasp. Blood was already starting to flow as Sam came over, alerted to something being wrong by Cassie's startled apology.

"What happened?" She asked, frowning as she took his hand and held it under the running water, washing the cut out before it had a chance to clot.

"I cut him," Cassie said, watching as Sam washed the cut out and trying to see if it was serious. It didn't look too bad, but she was pretty sure it had to sting – even though Ian wasn't complaining or even looking mad about it. "I'm sorry, Ian."

"It's no big deal," he said, shrugging. "I should have been paying more attention."

Sam pulled his arm out from under the water, and waited to see if it was going to start bleeding again.

"We'll get it taken care of," she told him, reaching for the first aid kit. "It doesn't look too bad."

OOOOOOOOO

Ten minutes later, the front door opened and Ian walked out. His wrist was neatly bandaged although since he was now wearing his sweatshirt you couldn't see it. He walked over to Jack and asked if he had another rake.

"I thought you were helping Sam?"

"I was."

"But...?"

He scowled.

"She kicked me out of the kitchen."

"Do I dare ask why?"

"Because I cut myself and now she seems to think I'm some kind of klutz."

"Ah." Jack handed Ian his rake and reached for the spare that was leaning against the house. "Don't worry about it. She kicked me out of the kitchen months ago for the same reason."

"Yeah?"

He nodded.

"Why do you think I'm raking leaves the day before an expected snowstorm? It's to keep me out of the way."