Author's Note: Hey you all, sorry it took me so long to get this out. I've been swamped with election stuff today – watching local and federal speeches and stuff like that. It's just been too distracting, and I didn't want to try to write while distracted like that. Of course, I'll make it up to you guys eventually – maybe tonight if I stay up late – but probably not until this weekend when I'll have more time to write. (Of course, by then River and Shawn should be around, too, hmmm?)

OOOOOOOOOO

"How hungry are you, Sam?"

She looked up from the TV guide – which she was checking to see if there was anything more interesting than football to watch – and saw that Ian had come up behind her.

"Starved."

He nodded and went back into the kitchen.

"She says she's starved," Ian reported to Jack, who was digging through the cupboards for cans of soup and a kettle to cook it in. "How many sandwiches does that mean she'll eat?"

"We'll make her three – if she doesn't want them all, we can finish them. You want tomato soup or chicken noodle?"

"What kind of sandwiches are we having?" Ian asked, opening the fridge. Jaffer was there instantly, looking to see what he wanted – and there was plenty.

"Whatever you make."

"Oh."

If it was grilled cheese then you had to have tomato soup, but if it was anything else, then it was chicken noodle.

"Chicken noodle."

Jack pulled out a couple cans, while Ian rifled through the food in the fridge, pulling out a large package of deli sliced ham and then another of roast beef. He saw turkey as well, but wisely held back from pulling it out, since he knew he was going to be up to his ears in turkey starting the next afternoon.

"Swiss or cheddar?"

Jack looked over his shoulder.

"Both – and grab that colby jack, too."

Ian nodded, and did as he was told, and then loaded up with a head of lettuce, tomatoes and mustard and mayo. He looked for horseradish, but didn't see any – although he did find some Dijon that he pulled out, too. His arms full, he stepped back, and promptly tripped over Jaffer – who he'd lost sight of while gathering the sandwich stuff.

It was an indication of just how much he really wanted a sandwich that he didn't lose anything in his arms as he fell backwards, landing hard on the kitchen floor. Jaffer was on him in an instant, and Jack was there, too, concern warring with amusement.

"You okay?"

"What happened?" Sam asked, looking over the back of the couch, and unable to see anything but one of Ian's legs.

"Nothing," Jack called. "Everything's fine." He looked down at Ian, who he was kneeling beside. "Nothing broken?" He asked, softly enough to keep Sam from hearing.

"Nah. I've had worse. Help me up."

He didn't dare put anything on the floor – he had a lab, after all, and didn't need to be reminded that Jaffer would probably make it all vanish if given half a chance.

Jack grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him up, showing a strength that belied the age that Ian kept teasing him about.

"No blood?"

"Is he bleeding?" Sam asked from the couch.

"Of course not," Jack called, looking intently at the cadet for a minute. "You're not bleeding, right?" He whispered.

"I'm fine." Ian told him. "I'm fine, Sam." He said a little louder so she could hear him.

He went over and set everything down on the counter, then hunted for the bread while Jack went back to opening soup cans.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Three sandwiches?"

"Jack said you'd eat them," Ian said, slightly defensively.

They were sitting at the table, and Ian had just presented Sam with a plate filled with thick sandwiches while at the same time Jack had set a bowl of soup in front of her – both impressed with themselves because they'd made dinner and there wasn't any blood, and there wasn't a fire, or a flood, or even any smoke. Of course, it was hard to screw up soup and sandwiches, but they both had a sneaking suspicion that Sam had expected them to.

"Three?"

Sam looked at Jack, who gave her his innocent look.

"Ian said you were starving."

"I said I was starving, not that I wanted a meal for four."

"You're eating for two," Jack reminded her.

She smiled, "The baby is this big, Jack," she told him holding her finger and thumb about four inches apart. "I don't think he's up for eating his share of this meal."

"She." Jack corrected. "And there's nothing wrong with wanting her to be full. You don't want her to go hungry, do you?"

Ian grinned and dug into his own dinner – which was even larger than Sam's – while the two of them got into what seemed to be a common debate about the sex of their baby. He was young and healthy, and still growing, right? There was no doubt in his mind that he'd finish his dinner – and Sam's too, if she needed him to. Of course, Jaffer was under the table next to Jack's feet, more than willing to help as well.

"Ian?"

He looked up; he'd been so involved in his meal that he hadn't realized they'd stopped their bantering and someone had addressed him.

"Hmm?"

"Did you have anything you wanted to do tonight?" Sam repeated, smiling at his single-mindedness when it came to a meal. "We could go to a movie or go rent some..."

He shook his head, looking out the sliding glass door towards the backyard. In the light from the house, he could see that the snow was still falling – harder than before it looked like – and he had no desire to go out and do anything if he didn't have to.

"Only if you want to," he told her honestly. "I'm fine sitting in front of the fireplace doing absolutely nothing but soaking up the heat."

Sam smiled. That was fine with her. She looked over at Jack, questioningly, but he shook his head.

"I'm tired."

"Then it's unanimous," She said. "Relaxing evening at home..."

"I'm going to bed as soon as Ian finishes dishes."

"What?"

"Hey, I cooked. The cook doesn't have to do dishes."

"I cooked, too."

"You did not."

"I made sandwiches."

Jack reached out and touched one of his sandwiches.

"It's cold. I don't see any signs of cookage."

"Cookage isn't a word."

"Yes, it is."

"I'll do the dishes," Sam said, laughing and interrupting them before they could start the whole 'is', 'isn't' thing.

Jack looked almost disappointed.