They were halfway through dinner when Jaffer gave Jack the warning. It was simple enough. His head came up and he looked toward the door, and then an instant later, he bolted for it, his tail wagging furiously. Which told Jack – and Sam – that someone was coming. Someone he liked.

Jack went for the door almost as quickly, looking over at Ian as he did so to make sure the cadet was still asleep. Which he was.

Jack opened the door before Daniel even had a chance to raise his hand to knock, and the archeologist stared at him, surprised.

"Hey."

"Shhh."

"Um… okay."

Jack gestured for Daniel to come into the house, closing the door quietly behind him, and pointed at the sleeping cadet to explain why they were being so quiet. Daniel nodded and walked with Jack and Jaffer to the dining room, where the others greeted him with soft hellos and smiles.

"Smells good," Daniel said, looking at the chicken dish on the table.

"Have a seat," Sam said, pointing to the plate that would have been Ian's. "There's plenty."

"What is it?"

"Chicken Chateau," Jack told him, resuming his own seat. "It's good."

Daniel looked at him for a moment, and then gave a purely mental shrug. He didn't know, and it really didn't matter, he supposed. Besides, it did smell good. He dished some up.

"Is Ian alright?"

Sam nodded.

"He's only been asleep a little while."

"And did you ask him?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

"Ask him what?" Shawn asked, curiously.

"He's thinking about it," Sam answered. "If I had to guess, though, I'd say he was going to accept."

"Accept what?" River asked, just as curious as Shawn.

Jack smiled and took a bite of his chicken.

"Can't tell you… it's secret stuff."

Shawn knew better, though. If it had been classified, Daniel never would have brought it up – and if he had accidentally mentioned it, Jack would have given him one of those killer looks he had for just such an occasion.

"Come on, what it is?"

"It's… classified," Jack said.

"Jack…" Shawn hated not knowing something – especially when it was something that obviously involved Ian. "Tell us…"

"If I tell you, will you do the dishes?"

Sam snorted.

Daniel looked over at her to make sure she was okay, but her eyes were smiling, even though she was doing her best to keep a straight face. Shawn looked over at her, hopefully.

"Sam…"

She shook her head.

"We'll do the dishes," River promised. "What is it?" He didn't like not knowing, either. And he knew that the dishes weren't going to be all that hard.

"Deal," Jack said, smiling triumphantly. Bwahahahahahaha. He didn't have to do the dishes, after all. What a great day. "Tell them, Sam."

She hid her amusement as well as she could, and gave an edited version of what they wanted Ian to do – skipping the offworld part, since River didn't really have that kind of clearance. She simply said that they offered Ian a chance to do a type of internship – under Jack – and explained it would be a good way for the New Yorker to decide if he wanted to be with the SGC later on in his career.

Shawn knew what she meant, though, and he frowned.

"Isn't he a bit young?"

"He's the same age as a lot of the Privates and Corporals the Marines have guarding the facility," Jack said. "And several of the other members of SG teams are just as young. As long as they have experienced Commanding officers to make sure they live to be old – and I'd say I qualify as an experienced officer – then they do fine. And so will he."

Sam nodded her agreement.

"He's going to live on the base?" River asked.

"He's going to live at Daniel's."

They both looked at the archeologist, who in turn, looked at Jack.

"Speaking of which, I'm not going to be out of there until tomorrow afternoon – at the earliest. For obvious reasons."

Meaning he was thrown off schedule by his sudden beaming to LA and the subsequent drive home.

"You're moving, Daniel?" Shawn asked.

Daniel nodded, but he'd just taken a big bite of pasta, so he didn't try to explain.

"He's going to have his own place?" River asked. "Nice…" They could see that he was trying to decide what he'd be doing with his own place if it was him, and Jack scowled.

"It's not a bachelor pad or anything. It'd just be more convenient for everyone involved if he didn't have to keep checking in at the academy."

"And you wouldn't have to explain the odd hours…" Shawn added.

"Exactly."

"He agreed to it?" Shawn asked.

"He's thinking about it," Sam repeated.

"Are you guys okay with this?" Jack asked. "You'll be losing your roommate for a few months – probably until the next school year."

River shrugged, looking over at the couch as if to make sure Ian was still asleep.

"To be perfectly honest, Colonel, I thought he was going to do something dumb like try to resign or something. The way he's been acting lately…"

Sam and Jack looked at each other, but in the glance Jack told her they wouldn't mention that he actually had. If Ian wanted to tell them, that was up to him. They'd already done enough talking about him while he was asleep.

Daniel pushed his plate back and everyone's attention was drawn to him. He was already finished eating.

"I was hungry," he told them, defensively. He hadn't eaten any better than Ian or Teal'c on the way home, after all, and he'd been tired when he'd returned, so instead of eating, he'd gone to bed.

"And it was good, right?" River asked.

"It was great." He stood up. "I need to get going. It's late, and Sally is waiting for me."

Sam was the one to get up to walk Daniel out – with Jaffer, of course – and she smiled as she opened the door.

"We'll see you Monday."

He nodded, "Call and let me know what you hear."

She promised she would, and he left. Sam closed the door and went back into the dining room, stopping long enough to cover Ian with the throw that was almost always on the back of the couch. He was out cold, and it didn't appear that he was going to wake up and have dinner with them.

She sat back down and they finished eating, and then despite his scheming earlier, Jack helped the cadets do the dishes while Sam sat at the table and enjoyed a quiet cup of tea while she watched them. They left the dishes in the drainer to dry and then Shawn played rock paper scissors for the bed in the back room – the loser would be forced to sleep on the floor with sleeping bags.

"Bah."

River grinned, and stretched.

"It's only fair. I did most of the cooking, after all. You wouldn't make chef Boyardee sleep on the floor after cooking up some spaghettios would you?"

Shawn didn't reply; he just muttered something under his breath, and Sam showed River where the towels, extra blankets and pillows were while Jack pulled a couple sleeping bags out of the closet for Shawn, who spread them out in front of the dying fire. He'd be warm enough, and there were worst places to sleep, he supposed.

Then they all went to bed. (except Shawn, who went to floor).