By the time Sam had even managed to make it to her feet, she saw her father and Jack both heading for the sliding glass door, a struggling Ian caught between them.

"Come on, guys," he was saying, smoothly. "Let's be reasonable..."

"Yeah?" Jack asked.

"It's not my fault you're slow. You're old, it happe-"

"Get the door Jack," Jacob interrupted.

"Sam!" Ian yelped, wriggling helplessly in Jacob's grasp while Jack opened the door. "They're picking on me! Sam, make the old men sto-"

The voice cut off as the door closed behind the three and Sam and the others moved just a bit so they could watch what was happening. Just in time to see Jacob toss Ian off the deck somewhere off to the side – into bushes, Sam knew. Then he and Jack dashed back inside, closing and locking the sliding glass door behind them, and drawing the curtain so Ian couldn't even look inside.

Jack saw Sam standing at the entrance of the dining room, and gave her his best innocent look.

"Um... I was just..."

"Taking out the trash," Jacob said, grinning as he walked past, back into the kitchen. He was immune to Sam's glare – he'd changed her diapers, after all.

"You didn't hurt him, did you?" Sam asked. "You know he's got that cut on his hea-"

"He's fine, Sam," Jack assured her with a smile. Like he'd ever actually hurt Ian on purpose. "The bushes caught his fall."

He headed into the kitchen as well, and Sam shrugged and went back into the dining room with the others and sat back down to watch the show. Jack knew best what someone like Ian could take – hadn't he said he was a lot like him?

OOOOOOOO

Being thrown into the bushes could be a bad thing – if it was summer time, and the bushes had thorns on them. You could get scratched, and stabbed with little sharp twigs and all sorts of things like that. Being throw into the bushes when there was 18 inches of snow protecting you from any thorns or little small twigs was hardly deadly. Of course, being thrown into those same bushes – and that same snow – wearing only jeans and a t-shirt wasn't exactly pleasant. Especially when you ended up with all of that snow going down your shirt or into your pants. That was hardly fun.

Of course, as he tumbled out of the bushes to land in his face in what was probably the only untrampled area of snow in the back yard – meaning he actually sank 18 inches into the soft snow – Ian was pretty much aware that he'd deserved what he'd gotten. It was just so much fun to mess with O'Neill like that – and add in Jacob Carter to the mix, and it was that much better. Who'd have thought the retired General was so strong, though? He'd actually done most of the lifting when they'd tossed him over the deck's rail, after all.

Ian lay in the snow a full 30 seconds, grinning to himself. He was seriously having the time of his life with Sam and Jack, and even being booted so forcefully from the house was a measure of how much fun he was having. It was so much better than he'd have expected. He would have probably moped around the academy – probably would have found someone to pick a fight with and ended up in trouble – and instead he was with friends, and enjoying himself immensely. He...

He was going to have to get up, because the snow was definitely freezing bits and pieces that he was going to want to keep. A snow bank is not the place for introspection.

Ian rolled over and sat up, looking over at the sliding glass door. It was firmly closed – no doubt locked – and the curtain was drawn. Yeah, well, there was always the front door. He got to his feet, running his hand along the stitches in his head. Not that they hurt all that much – a little maybe, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle – he just wanted to make sure he hadn't torn them, and wasn't bleeding. He knew that would worry Sam and he didn't want that. Satisfied when his hand didn't come away bloody, the cadet walked around the house, hopping the chain link fence that separated the front yard from the back, and headed for the front door.

OOOOOOOOOO

Sam couldn't help but smile when he came through the front door. Yeah, he looked cold – he wasn't wearing all that much, after all – but he didn't look at all chastised by his rough treatment, and the hand behind his back as he came into the house boded ill of things to come for Jack and Jacob. Of course, Sam couldn't really let them have a snow fight in the house...

"If that's snow in your hand, you're going to be joining them."

The look he gave her was his best attempt so far at an innocent look – and still it was a lousy one.

"Would I bring snow into your house, Sam?"

"It looks like you have about a pound of it in your hair," Janet commented.

Ian nodded, and walked into the living room, his hand still out of sight – although Cassie could see that there was something in it when he walked past her.

"It's pretty snowy out there..." he said, innocently. "Yup... pretty snowy..." They watched as he walked into the dining room and Sam shook her head, wondering what he had planned now but figuring that if it didn't kill him – or Jack and Jacob didn't – he could always clean up the mess.

Ian vanished into the kitchen and out of sight, but a minute later she heard a yelp – from Jack, and right on the heels of that one, there was one from Jacob.

"Hey!"

"You little-"

Ian came rushing out of the dining room, and ran down the hall.

"Ian!"

Jack came out of the kitchen, fumbling in his pants and looking around.

"Which-"

Everyone in the room pointed down the hall.

"I'm going to kill him."

Jack vanished after Ian, and Jacob came into the room, disgruntled amusement in his expression.

"What did he do?" Daniel asked, curiously.

Jacob shook his head.

"My dignity won't allow me to share that information. Let's just say it has something to do with icicles and leave it at that."

There was a yelp from Sam's workroom – definitely an Ian yelp.

"I got him, Jacob, bring in the hounds!"

"Do you have hounds?" Jacob asked Sam.

"We have Jaffer... and Teal'c would probably loan me Jack..."

Jacob's eyes were as cheerful as Sam could ever remember them being, and he slapped his thigh as he headed down the hall.

"Come on, Jaffer, here, Jack!"

The labs scrambled to their feet and followed the Tok'ra, and a minute later there was another crash, and another yelp, this time quite plain.

"I give! I give!"

Jack came down the hall, looking smug, with Jaffer and Jack (the dog) beside him, and a second later Jacob came out as well. Sam watched, but Ian wasn't following them.

"Where's Ian?"

"He'll be along shortly..."

"He's okay, isn't he?" Janet asked. She didn't think all the running around was all that healthy for the boy – after all, he'd almost been scalped just that morning.

Jacob nodded.

"He's fine. We've just taught him the error of his ways..."

For some reason, Sam didn't buy that for a second. Probably he was back there just regrouping – or catching his breath.