He kept his hand in hers as he walked her to the car. Not, Cassie knew, because he wanted to hold her hand – like it had been earlier – but because he was going to make sure she didn't bolt on him. She, of course, had no such intention. Dumb with shock, and sobbing silently, she wouldn't have had a clue which way home even was just then. Besides, she knew he'd just get mad at her all over again if he had to go running after her and stuff her in the car.

He opened the door of the convertible and put her in without saying a word, made sure her feet were out of the way and then slammed the door with far more force than was necessary to make sure it latched. Then he walked around and got in behind the wheel, not even looking at her as he started the engine and headed for her house.

They drove in almost complete silence. The only sound in the car were Cassie's sobs, which were broken as she tried to stifle them, and although he knew that he had been hard on her and that his temper had made him say things that he hadn't meant, Ian was still so angry with her that he didn't even try to comfort her. It was all he could do to keep from speeding – which was another thing he was prone to doing when he was angry – and keeping his eyes and attention on the road in front of him and not on the girl beside him.

It was a relief to both of them when he pulled up to her house – with 15 minutes to spare before her 1AM deadline. Which meant they'd never have made it back on time if Ian had finished what Cassie had tried to start – yet another reason Fraiser would have been pissed off at him – although the cadet wasn't sure how he was going to explain to Janet what was wrong with Cassie.

"You don't need to walk me up," Cassie stuttered as he came to a stop. "I know the way…"

Before he could say anything, she opened the car and lunged out of it, the shawl catching on the seatbelt latch and holding fast, almost choking her. She didn't even try to untangle it, instead just leaving it where it was, half in the car and half out, and slamming the door behind her and heading up the sidewalk without a backward glance.

Ian wasn't angry enough to leave her without making sure she was safely in the house, but the moment he saw her try the front door and open it and vanish inside, he put the car in gear. He'd bring her shawl to the SGC the next morning and Fraiser could deliver it Cassie. There was no fucking way he'd go to the door right then.

OOOOOOOO

Janet Fraiser turned to look at the clock the moment she heard the door slam right outside and saw Cassie's dog run towards the door – a sure sign that she was home. 12:45. Well, she had to admit that she was pleased and surprised that Ian had kept his word about getting her home on time, and she was suddenly a little worried at the reception she was going to get when Cassie opened the door and saw her sitting on the couch, reading a medical textbook but obviously waiting up for her.

She needn't have worried, though. The door opened long before Janet had really expected it to – she'd expected Ian was going to try a good night kiss on the front porch – maybe even a long, lingering one – and that she was going to have to pry him off her daughter and send him on his way. Instead, Cassie came through the door, and Janet had a glance at a tear-streaked face with smeared makeup and slightly wild eyes, and then a good look at Cassie's back as she stalked right past her mother – probably not even seeing her – and headed for her room. The look was all Janet needed. She wasn't wearing her shawl, and her zipper was only ¾ of the way up – and Janet knew damned sure that it had been all the way up when she'd left that evening, because she'd zipped it herself.

"Cass?"

She lunged to her feet, but before she got to the bedroom door it was slammed closed.

"Cass?"

She knocked on the door, but all she could hear was muffled crying.

"Cass!"

She tried the knob, but it was locked, and there was no give.

"Open up, Cassie."

"No! Go away!"

Her daughter's voice sounded broken hearted, and Janet wanted nothing more than to get in there and see what had happened – although she was quickly jumping to her own conclusions based on the evidence she'd had.

"Cassie-"

She only heard sobs. Torn between wanting to go straight to Ian and throttle him and the knowledge that there was no way she could leave her daughter home alone in the state she was in, Fraiser knocked on the door, again.

"What did he do?"

"Nothing!"

Now there was a definite wail of hurt and anguish, and Janet's scowl grew as she kept knocking on the door. She'd get her to open up, eventually, she always had. And then she'd find out what had happened. And then… Ian Brooks was going to pay.

OOOOOOOOO

Ian drove aimlessly for a long time, his mind mulling over what had happened and how things had gone from very nice to FUBAR in only moments, and cussing her left and right as he vented his frustration and anger at Cassandra safely, now that she was out of the car and away from him.

What had she been thinking? Jesus, she hadn't been, that was for sure. Otherwise she'd never had pulled a stunt like that. He wondered if the punch had been spiked and he'd just missed it – although true to his promise to Janet, he'd actually tasted it before handing any to Cassie, just to make sure.

Then he wondered what he was going to tell Janet Fraiser, who was almost certainly waiting up to make sure he'd gotten her daughter home on time like she'd told him to and was now almost certainly trying to pry the tale out of Cassie – and God only knew what she was going to tell her.

He debated going back, but knew he couldn't. He debated running over to Jack and Sam's, just to see if they'd been called, and to see if he could give them the version of events as they'd actually happened, but there were two things wrong with that. One, he couldn't just go running to Jack and Sam. They had worries of their own and didn't need to play nursemaid to him. And two, he couldn't bring himself to even think about telling someone else what had happened.

Cassie had done something way out of character for her, and there was no way he was going to disgrace her by telling anyone what had happened. Not Jack. Not Janet. Not even Sam. He'd protected her innocence that night – whether she'd wanted him to or not – and there wasn't a chance in hell that someone would get him to betray her character. Not even as mad as he was.

Finally, he sighed, and pulled the car back into the parking space at the apartment. It was very late – or rather early, depending on how you looked at things – and he wasn't going to get much sleep before he had to go to the SGC in the morning.

It was even worse than he'd thought, because after he'd stripped and gone to bed, he lay awake a long time, and then when he'd finally drifted off, his dreams were weird and his sleep was restless.