"It's quite a bruise, Cadet," Janet told him, her fingers surprisingly gentle as she probed the edges of the ever-darkening bruise on his side. "How did it happen?"

"Jack got caught in a snare, and when the tree whipped up, it hit me."

"Colonel O'Neill was caught in a snare?" Janet wondered why he hadn't mentioned that.

Ian nodded, and winced when she touched a particularly sore spot.

"He got caught by the ankle and was jerked upside down."

He would have mentioned how amusing it was, but he didn't think Fraiser would share in the amusement – at least not since it was him telling the story – so he just stuck to the facts.

She turned the direction Jack had vanished in, as if to go see that he was all right, but Janet had seen him, and knew he hadn't been limping. So obviously he hadn't been terribly injured. Her medic would find an injury if there was one.

"Did you clean it out when you cut yourself?" She asked, turning once more to his side and looking at the cut with an intense consideration that made Ian wonder if she was trying to think of a reason to give him stitches or do something horrible to him. It wasn't that deep, after all, and you couldn't stitch bruises.

He shook his head.

"We started to, when Teal'c came and told us about the building…" He looked down at it. "But I cleaned it in the shower."

She harrumphed, unsatisfied, and reached for an antibiotic ointment.

"We'll clean it out and bandage it," she told him. "That ought to do the job – much better than a shower."

He didn't answer, but she wasn't really expecting him to, and she cleaned the cut with care – probably more care than she needed to, he decided. The antibiotic stuff stung, and as pissed off as she was with him at the moment anyways, he figured she was just getting even in whatever way she could.

She bandaged it, told him to ice the bruise if it was still tender in a few hours, and then allowed him to put his shirt back on.

"You're fit, Cadet," she told him; making a few notes on the chart she had on her clipboard. "I'm clearing you for release."

"Thanks."

He left the little curtained area and saw Jack and Sam lounging near the door – presumably waiting for him to finish.

"How is he, Doc?" Jack asked.

"He has a deep bruise, and a laceration, but he'll be fine."

"Stitches?" Jack asked.

Fraiser shook her head.

"It's not that bad."

Now it definitely sounded like she was sorry it wasn't.

"Are you and Cassie still coming to dinner tonight?"

Janet nodded.

"Six?"

It was Sam's turn to nod.

"Around then."

"We'll be there." Janet turned to Jack. "They didn't find any leg injury? No pulled muscles?"

O'Neill shook his head, immediately understanding what she was referring to.

"I'm fine."

Since she could go and discuss him with the medic that had done his examination, she nodded and allowed the subject to drop.

"I have work to do. I'll see you guys at 6."

Jack and Sam both nodded, and then turned to Ian.

"Ready for debriefing?"

"Yeah."

OOOOOOOOO

"So you don't know exactly who might have lived in this building?" Hammond asked a half an hour later.

Daniel shook his head.

"We think – maybe – that the language on the wall was an ancient Asiatic form of Lao, which is a precursor to the original Chinese symbols that most of the Eastern Asian languages are offshooted from, but I won't know for sure until I have a chance to check my reference books."

"And you're going to do that tonight?"

Daniel nodded, looking over at Ian. Since most of his books were still in his old apartment, he wanted to make sure it was all right with the New Yorker that he come over and use them. Ian understood what he was asking, and nodded. He didn't mind, at all.

"Yes, General. If I can figure out a way to see what the writing says, I'd like a chance to go back tomorrow and maybe finish translating. There was too much on the wall to copy this morning, and who knows what it might say?"

"It might say 'this way to the bathroom'," Jack said.

Ian grinned.

"Or it might say 'this is the way to defeat the Goa'uld'," Daniel retorted. "We just never know what we might find."

Since Jack had to concede that, he nodded, and looked over at Hammond.

"I don't mind going back tomorrow, Sir – if Daniel finds a reason for us to."

Hammond shrugged. If Jack didn't object, he didn't have any reason to, either.

"Very well. We'll meet back here at 9:30 tomorrow to hear what you've discovered Doctor Jackson."

Daniel nodded, and Hammond stood up, effectively ending the briefing.

"You don't mind company tonight?" Daniel asked Ian, who shook his head.

"Nope."

"I thought you were coming to dinner tonight?" Sam asked as they all stood up.

Ian shook his head giving her a wry smile.

"I think Janet Fraiser has seen enough of me, today, Sam. There's no need to antagonize her further."

"She won't mind-"

He shook his head, and gestured for her to lead the way out of the room, with the rest of SG-1 behind them.

"As much as I'd love the home-cooked meal, I don't want to make things harder on Cassie than they already are." He knew that she and her mother had already argued a couple times about him. He just wished Fraiser would believe it when he told her he didn't have any designs on her daughter. Even Jack sort of believed him.

Sam put her arm around his waist as they walked, understanding the difficulty he was having and unable to do anything to help him. She'd already tried, after all, and even she couldn't get through Janet's protective mother instinct.

"It'll all work out," she promised him.

"It'll be over tomorrow night," Ian told her, appreciating the support. "Once the dance is done, Doctor Fraiser can stop hovering, and Cassie can stop being defensive."

"Until the next dance…"

He shook his head.

"She doesn't have another one until Prom, and hopefully by then she'll find someone… more acceptable… to take her."

Sam wanted to hug him then and there, and wondered how such a nice guy ended up feeling so low about himself – of course, it didn't help that Janet didn't trust him any further than she could throw Teal'c and even Jack wasn't completely sure of him when it came to his intentions with Cassie.

"You're not that bad, Ian."

He shrugged, and seemed glad when the elevator came to take them all up to the surface.

"Tell that to Fraiser."