Author's Note: Since someone cough dietcokechic cough pointed this out to me a couple of weeks ago, I thought I'd throw it out so you guys could all see it. Not everyone would remember this, after all. It's from Fishhooks and Free time:

Jaffer stayed next to Jack, who reached out and took hold of his dog's tail, and tugged it slightly, making Jaffer turn and show Jack his large teeth in mock viciousness.

"Some day he's going to bite you," Sam warned, smiling, as she walked onto the dock.

"That'll be the same day the Red Sox win the World Series," Jack said, smiling up at her as she came over and rested her hand on his sun-warmed shoulder.

How's that for irony??

Okay, back to the story! And yes, River will be coming over for Thanksgiving – if for no other reason than everyone is waiting to see him meet Cassie!

OOOOOOOO

Sam walked Janet and Cassie out, but Ian opted to head out the back door and see what Jack and Jaffer were up to. He stood on the deck, looking out over the large backyard and watched as Jaffer went tearing past chasing a stick about the size of Ian's forearm. The cadet shivered – he probably should have put his sweatshirt back on, but he didn't always think ahead – and he was too lazy to go back inside and get it now that he was outside. Instead he headed down the steps to the grass and walked over to where Jack was watching Jaffer's progress.

"Shawn said you have a dog," Jack said as Jaffer came thundering back.

"Yeah," Ian smiled when Jack tried to pull the stick out of Jaffer's mouth, and lab bit down harder, his tail wagging as he decided fetch wasn't nearly as much fun as tug-of-war. "A black lab."

"That's what he said." Jack agreed, tugging on the stick. "What's his name?"

"Bubba."

Jack smiled.

"Hey, I named him when I was 13, okay? It was a cool name back then."

"Of course it was."

"It was."

Jack finally managed to convince Jaffer to give him the stick, and Ian saw that the poor thing had definitely seen better days. It was ratty, slobbery and covered in tooth marks. And Jack handed it to him.

"You throw it. My arm's sore."

"That's because you're old," Ian told him, smiling as he took the slobbery stick. Ick. He looked down to make sure that Jaffer knew he had the stick now – unnecessary – and then tossed it to the other end of the yard.

"I'm not that old," Jack told him, scowling.

"Oooooold." Ian repeated.

Jack's scowl deepened, but it wasn't a serious one, and even Ian could see the amusement in his brown eyes.

"You're pushing it, young man... Don't make me kick your ass."

Ian grinned, and made a bring it on motion with his hands, stepping back a pace so he wasn't actually in reach.

OOOOOO

"What are you two doing?"

Ian looked up at the sound of Sam's voice – it wasn't all that hard to look up, after all, Jack had him pinned on his back and was straddling him, poking him with a finger in the middle of the chest as he held his arms down with his knees. Jaffer was licking Ian's face – or trying to, since Ian kept trying to move out of the way but wasn't able to do much more than turn his head from side to side since he didn't have any hands free to push him away. Jack looked up as well, his eyes bright with innocence once more.

"He started it," he said, automatically.

"Help me, Sam..."

He sputtered when Jaffer took advantage of his sudden stillness and swiped his tongue across the cadet's mouth.

Sam smiled.

"Jack..."

"What? He started it!"

Poke.

Lick.

"I did not, Sam! I was minding my own business... building houses for the homeless..."

"He called me old..."

Poke.

"I did not."

"Oooooold," Jack repeated, using the exact same drawl the New Yorker used when he'd said it only ten minutes before. His finger poked the cadet's chest again, and Ian writhed under him, trying to get free and avoid Jaffer's tongue at the same time.

"Sam! Help!"

Sam's smile grew.

"Jack. You do know it's starting to snow, right?"

Jack looked up, still poking Ian's chest.

"Hey, Ian, look at that; it's snowing..."

Poke.

"Sam!"

Lick. Lick.

"Jaffer, come here baby..."

"Call him off, Sam!"

Poke.

Jaffer went over to Sam, more than willing to get a little loving from her and leave Ian to Jack.

"Sam!"

"I called him off, Ian," Sam said from the bottom step where she sat ad watched as Jack continued to torture the hapless cadet.

"Not Jaffer! Jack!"

Poke.

"How's that for old, you young pup?" Jack asked him, as he finally rolled off Ian. He'd made his point.

"You got lucky."

"Luck had nothing to do with it."

"I slipped on that ball and fell down. I'd say that had a lot to do with it."

"Unless I put that ball there on purpose."

"You didn't."

"I might have."

Sam stood up, shaking her head.

"It's too cold out to not have a jacket on – both of you. Inside, now."

With the agility of youth, Ian rolled to his feet, looking down at Jack, who was still sitting on the ground.

"Old people shouldn't be out in the cold, you know? Something about poor circulation..."

"I'll show you poor circulation..." Jack said, getting to his feet – a bit slower than Ian had. As soon as he was on his feet, though, Ian had headed for the steps, stepping around Sam and using her and Jaffer as a shield.

"Bring it on, Old Man..."

Jack lunged for him, and Ian bolted for the house with Jaffer right behind him. Jack stopped just long enough to kiss Sam quickly, then tore off after him, going through the door that Ian had left open. A moment later there was a crashing noise from somewhere in the area of the living room, and Ian's voice squealed once more.

"Sam! Sam! Help! He's got me again!"

Shaking her head and smiling, Sam went up the stairs and across the deck, wondering what had been broken and hoping it wasn't any bones.