Author's Note: Nope, Ian doesn't know where Cassie's really from. As a matter of fact, given his distaste for small talk, he probably doesn't even know she's from Toronto. :)
OOOOOOOOOO
"Ouch."
While he wasn't normally one to check guys out in the locker room, Jack had watched as Ian took his shirt off, because he'd wanted another look at that cut on his side – one that he'd forgotten about, really, until Hammond had asked. When Ian pulled his shirt off, he revealed a belly and chest that was just as dirty as the rest of him, and under that swamp grime was a beautiful bruise about the same size as the welt and spreading outward from the cut, which was just along his lower ribs.
Ian looked down at himself, too, but he didn't look as impressed. He'd had worse. Christ, he'd been shot for that matter. Nothing would ever hurt as much as that had. And it was on his side, so it wouldn't show.
Daniel came over and took a look, already wrapped in just a towel. He was hoping to get his shower done and out of the way before the dogs were bathed – which usually happened in conjunction with Jack and Teal'c showering, since it was pretty convenient to wash a squirming dog when you were already naked and unconcerned about getting soap and water smeared or splashed on you. Not that he didn't want to help, but he wanted to get started on looking through those copies he'd made, and see if he could get anything ready for the debriefing – since Hammond was sure to ask if he knew what the building was.
"Well, that's a pretty one," he said, looking from Ian to Jack. "What would you say…? A 6?"
Jack frowned.
"I don't know, Daniel… it's good-sized and the color is already deepening to a lovely shade of dark purple… Maybe a six point five."
Ian scowled. This was Jack's fault; after all, he was the one who antagonized the tree in the first place, by putting his foot in the snare.
Jack wasn't at all concerned by the scowl. Having had their fun, he stood up to finish undressing – he had a very goopy dog to wash, after all.
"You'd better wash that carefully when you shower, Ian," he told him. "Otherwise Fraiser will be pulling out all the really painful anti-biotic creams and ointments to get it cleaned out for you."
Which was all he needed, Ian though glumly as he undressed and headed for the shower. She already wanted his hide for deciding to take Cassie to the dance; he'd try to do his best not to give her her teaspoon of flesh, as well.
OOOOOOOOO
Janet looked up from her conversation with Sam when she heard the disturbance at the door to her infirmary. Just in time to see Jaffer come trotting in like he owned the place, and make a beeline for Sam, who smiled and knelt down, more than willing to give him some serious loving now that he was clean – although he was still pretty damp. The smell of strawberries permeated the air as the black lab whuffled her happily, making sure that she hadn't taken any harm while he'd been gone.
"Cadet Brooks was the one hurt?" Janet asked, as Jack and the others came over to join them – all of them still showing evidence of their own showers, but none of them with any outward sign of injury. They didn't even look as tired as they had, since the showers had been refreshing – as showers normally are when you're tired.
"He got hit with a tree branch and cut his side," Jack said, giving Sam an apologetic look as he said it. He was supposed to have kept him out of trouble, after all. Not that he'd been able to do much, hanging upside down as he had been at the time.
"It's nothing," Ian said. "You don't need to worry about it."
Which of course was the wrong thing to say to a doctor in her own infirmary. Especially one of Janet's caliber.
"You let me decided what I need to worry about, Cadet," she told him, gesturing for him to sit on the closest examination table. She waved over a few other medics, who had already been ready for the rest of SG-1, and Jack, Teal'c and Daniel went off, leaving Janet with Ian and Sam.
Fraiser looked over at Sam, and frowned when she saw the concerned look in her friend's expression.
"I'm not going to eat him, Sam," she told her, waving her away. "Go check on Jack."
Sam smiled, and gave Ian a pat on the shoulder as she passed him, on her way to go see Jack, and Ian watched her go, and then turned his attention to Janet, who pulled a privacy curtain around them, watching her warily, as if unsure what she was going to do. He'd much rather have had a different doctor check him out – at least just then he would have, because Janet Fraiser already looked displeased with him, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out anything to say to make it better.
"Take your shirt off, cadet," Janet said. "I'd like a look at that cut before we do anything else."
OOOOOOOOO
"Is it my imagination, or is she in a bad mood?" Jack asked in a low voice as Sam joined him and his medic behind his own curtain on the other side of the room. The man was taking his blood pressure and listening to his heartbeat, and he knew O'Neill hadn't been talking to him – although he could have told Jack that it wasn't his imagination.
Sam nodded, "She's a bit edgy."
"Bregman do something wrong?" Jack asked. "Maybe I should go have a talk with him…"
Sam shook her head as the medic snorted in amusement.
"It's the dance tomorrow. She still doesn't like that Ian's taking Cass."
"Ah."
Jack hadn't really been happy with that, either, at first. Despite the fact that he liked Ian. He liked Cassie, too, after all, and she was way too young to be going to dances and parties and spending time with guys. But he'd had a talk with Ian about it when the subject had first come up – and several with Sam – and he was pretty sure he wasn't going to have to worry about Ian doing anything inappropriate. The kid wasn't dumb, and Jack had left very little to the imagination about what he'd do to anyone who messed with Cassie's heart – or body, for that matter.
Sam smiled, and started to say something, when the medic spoke up, first.
"Could you take your shirt off, Colonel?"
Jack complied, while Sam watched, resisting the urge to make striptease noises.