"Are you sure?"

Sam knew immediately something was definitely wrong. Both by the way Jack had paled and by the way his voice broke in the middle of the question. Her hand went to the small of his back – for physical and moral support – and she gave him a questioning look.

"It's on the news, Jack." Hammond answered. "They're not releasing names of victims, yet, prior to next of kin notification. The Commandant wasn't sure if you wanted to be the one to tell Shawn, or if you wanted him to, so-"

"I'll tell him, Sir." Jack interrupted, reaching out and putting his arm around Sam and pulling her closer. "We'll go there right now."

"I'll let him know."

Hammond hung up, and Jack closed the phone.

"What is it?" Sam asked. "What's happened?"

It took Jack a second to get his voice back. His throat was suddenly closed tight.

"Dotty and James were killed this morning."

"What? How?" As far as Sam knew they weren't even in town.

"Their plane crashed at JFK airport."

"Oh my God…" Sam hugged him close and Jack held her tightly, ever mindful of the baby, but holding her as closely as he dared. "Shawn doesn't know?"

She'd picked that much up from the one-sided conversation Jack had had with Hammond.

He shook his head.

"I'm going to go tell him."

"We…" Sam corrected.

He nodded, and brushed a kiss against her cheek, and then let her go, wiping his eyes.

"Monica?"

She'd heard everything, of course, and she gave him a sympathetic look. She knew Shawn – he'd been in here with Jack a lot during the early days of Jaffer's life when the puppy was getting into everything and making almost weekly visits to her office.

"Jaffer can go with you, Jack," she said. "We'll run tests on the blood samples I took, but you should take him. I'll let you know if we find anything."

He was going to need the support – or Shawn would. Besides, she didn't think Jaffer would allow himself to be left behind – not unless he was really ill, which he wasn't.

Jack nodded, and ran his hand along Jaffer's jowls and neck, and the lab turned his sorrowful brown eyes on Jack, who felt a crushing wave of grief come over him suddenly. Only the fact that he had to figure out how to tell Shawn what had happened before someone saw it on the news kept him from breaking down completely – although tears were once more coursing down his cheeks. Jaffer whined mournfully, and Sam gathered both of them into her arms, hugging them both for a long moment.

"We'd better get going," Jack finally whispered, pulling away.

"I'll drive."

He nodded, and dug into his pocket for his keys.

"Give Shawn my love," Monica said as they all left the examination room, Jaffer trailing behind them with his head down low and his tail drooping.

OOOOOO

"What do you have there, Ian?"

Ian looked over at Shawn.

"It's called a letter, Adams. Perhaps you've heard of them? People send them to other people – you should get someone to read yours to you sometime."

River chuckled.

"Ignore him, Shawn," the blonde cadet advised. "It's from Cassie, and he's not sure how to answer it."

"Really?" Shawn grinned, and gave his roommate a sly look, that only made Ian scowl. "What does Cassie want?"

"If you must live vicariously through me and my personal mail, she wants to know if I'll take her to a dance on Valentine's Day at her school. Some Spring Formal or something."

"Ooooh…" Shawn had to dodge a pillow that Ian flung at him. "So?"

"So, what?"

River laughed and tossed Ian's pillow back at him.

"I think he's asking if you're panning on taking her…?"

"Why don't you take her?" Ian asked the blonde cadet.

"I would – but she didn't send me the letter…" He shrugged. "She's pretty, though, and nice. If I were you, I wouldn't be saying no."

"Yeah, well… you're not me."

"Thank God."

"Fuck you."

River grinned again, and flipped Ian the bird, which made the New Yorker smile. He put the letter back into the envelope and tucked it into his Physics textbook. Not that he needed to read it again to remember what it said, but he knew he'd want to anyways, and figured he'd just be pissed with himself if he didn't keep it close.

"We're going to be late for class if you don't get going," Shawn reminded him, then, straightening his own uniform and making sure the seams and folds were all properly lined up.

"You guys can go ahead," Ian said, hopping down off his bed. "I don't need nursemaids to show me the way."

"No," River said, "What you need is a com-"

A knock on the closed door of the room interrupted them, and Ian went over and answered it. One of the seniors was standing there, looking perfectly groomed and tailored – all except for a bruise on his cheek.

"What do you want?" Ian asked.

"Screw you, Brooks," the senior said. "The Commandant wants to see Adams in his office immediately."

Ian turned to look at Shawn, and then back to the senior.

"Why?"

"I didn't ask."

There was a sullenness in his tone that Shawn couldn't help but smile at. This cadet had tried to take Ian on in a self-defense class – claiming that it was time someone taught the arrogant bastard a lesson – and Ian had promptly taken him to the mat. Repeatedly. And not at all gently.

"What did you do, Adams?" Ian asked, shutting the door on the senior cadet – a move deliberately designed to piss the older guy off.

Shawn shrugged.

"I can't think of anything… now, if it were you being sent for, I wouldn't even have to wonder…"

"Screw you, Adams."

Shawn laughed, and opened the door. A scowling senior cadet was still standing there.

"He knows the way, shit for brains," Ian told him.

"I was told to make sure he came immediately."

"He's coming," River said, walking over and leaning against the doorframe. "Get the hell out of here before I decide to add to the collection on your face."

The senior turned a brilliant shade of red – it was one thing for Brooks to goad him; everyone knew Brooks was an arrogant sonofabitch anyways – but it was another thing completely for the easy-going Californian to do it. Unable to think of anything to say that wouldn't make him look stupid, the cadet spun on his heels and headed back down the hall. He'd done what he'd been ordered to. As far as he was concerned, all three of them could get hit by a passing turnip truck.

Ian snorted softly in amusement.

"If the Commandant gives you any trouble, just blame whatever it is on me," he told Shawn.

The younger cadet grinned, and slapped him on the back.

"Probably wants to give me a medal for putting up with your crap for so long."

With that, he headed out the door, and Ian and River gathered their books and headed for their first class of the day.