"So…"

Jack looked over at Daniel, who was walking close beside him, his P-90 hanging down in his hand and water trickling off the barrel. O'Neill scowled, because that weapon was going to need oiling when they returned to the SGC, and Daniel never could put them back together once he'd taken them apart. Which meant Jack would end up doing it for him.

"So, what?"

Daniel wasn't even fazed by Jack's scowl. He was far too used to it.

"Want to talk?"

"About…?"

"How about whatever's going on between you and Ian?"

Jack scowled and tossed a look over at Ian and Teal'c, who were just as wet as he and Daniel were, and walking about 40 yards away – both of them holding their weapons in the best way to protect them from the rain that was coming down in sheets.

"What makes you think there's something going on?"

Daniel shook his head in disbelief. Did he look blind?

"Jack, the air between the two of you is so frigid, I'm surprised it's not snowing on us…"

Jack scowled. Again.

"I don't want to talk about it."

And that was it. Because Daniel knew he wasn't going to say another word until he was ready to.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

The knock on the door startled Cassie out of her thoughts, and when her dog barked excitedly, it actually made her jump. They were definitely thoughts that she didn't mind being distracted from, though, ranging almost consistently from total mortification at what she'd done the night before, and hurt at how Ian had rebuffed her and then traveling straight through to anger at how cold and cruel he'd treated her afterwards.

God, he was so stupid, she'd been thinking, her head buried in one of the throw pillows on the couch where she'd been moping almost continuously since her mother had finally left her alone and headed to the SGC that morning. Hadn't he understood what she'd wanted? Hadn't he been so perfect the whole night? How could he not understand what shed been thinking of when she'd asked him to take her to his place? Wasn't that exactly what happened in the movies and on TV when people were going to have sex? The guy was supposed to invite her up to his place – not for sex, but to have drinks, of course. Since neither of them drank, though, and Cassie had figured out fairly quickly that she was going to have to do the inviting, she'd come up with the excuse of being hungry – but it'd only been a code, for crying out loud! He was supposed to be a genius; how could he not know what she'd wanted?

She sniffed, feeling hurt follow right on the heels of her irritation. She hadn't been acting like a skank… she'd been acting like a woman was supposed to act with the man she loved – wasn't she? Offering herself to him? That was what guys wanted, according to Crystal and Angela and every book, movie and TV show she'd ever watched. Sex. Although she preferred to think of it as lovemaking, because she was certain she was in love with Ian – and had been so eager to prove it. So eager that she'd done something stupid, and he'd reacted so wrong… and now it was all ruined, and she was never going to be able to face him again – assuming he even wanted to see her again, which he probably didn't.

All in all, she was about as twisted up inside as she'd ever been – even when she'd been little. And she hurt. This had to be worse than a broken heart, because a broken heart was supposed to be able to heal, and Cassie couldn't imagine the ache inside her ever going away. He'd-

"Cassie?"

She looked towards the door, at the sound of Sam's voice outside.

Oh, God. Her mom had sent Sam. Cassie felt a stab of anxiety and debated whether to even go to the door or pretend that she wasn't there. Maybe Sam would go away. Cassie didn't want to talk to Sam – there was no way she could admit what she'd done – not even to her. Not to anyone.

Then she had a thought that made her even more embarrassed. Maybe Ian had told them what had happened and Sam was coming to check on her? That was something Sam would do, but it wasn't something Cassie could handle just then. She couldn't face Sam knowing that the older woman knew what she'd done – and how badly things had gone from there.

"Cass," Sam's voice came from the other side of the door again, and there was another knock – this one louder. "I know you're in there. Open up, honey."

Numbly, she got up from the sofa and walked over to the door, using her foot to keep her dog from jumping on Sam when she opened the door. And found herself promptly swarmed under by Jaffer and Jack – and her own dog, who reacted to the presence of the two labs with excited barking and yips.

"Jaffer. Jack. Down."

A couple more stolen licks from Jaffer, who was always willing to obey Sam, but also just as prone to hesitating for just a moment before doing so, and then the two labs stepped back a step or two, their tails wagging excitedly and their eyes watching her cheerfully. So cheerfully that she almost managed a smile. Instead, she wiped away the tears that had been trickling down her cheeks while she'd been sitting on the sofa. An action Sam didn't miss.

"Are you okay?"

Cassie nodded, turning away and heading back for the sofa. She didn't want to say anything. Not until she knew what Sam knew or didn't know.

Sam followed her, leaving Jaffer and Jack to wander the house at will. Janet's house was just as dog proofed as hers and Jack's was for the most part, so she didn't have to worry about what they might get into.

She sat down beside Cass, who picked up the throw pillow she'd been holding earlier, and refused to look Sam in the eye.

"Your mom's worried about you."

"She doesn't have to be… I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"I am."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Cassie realized then that Sam didn't know much of what had happened. Otherwise she would have brought it up. Instead, by asking if she wanted to talk about it, she was fishing for information. She felt a wave of relief, because now she knew she didn't have to talk about it, and she shook her head.

"No…"

The last thing she wanted to do was admit what she'd done.

"Cass…"

"Sam. It's okay. I'm fine. I don't need to talk about it. Mom doesn't need to worry about me and neither do you."

"Did Ian say something-"

"No!"

Yes. Of course he had. But it'd been her fault, and she wasn't going to admit that, either. Never. Not for anything. Not even for Sam, who she could tell was truly worried about her.

Sam was taken back by the vehemence of the response, and as a skilled interrogator – not as skilled as Jack maybe, but still pretty darned good – she knew immediately that Cassie was lying.

"Cassie, if something happened… we need to know about it…"

She was still having a hard time believing that Ian had done something so inappropriate that it was leading to things going so out of control so quickly, but she couldn't ignore Cassie's reaction, either.

"Nothing happened, Sam."

And she refused to look her in the eyes. Another sure sign she was lying. And a sign that she was going to keep lying.

Sam sighed, but short of putting the teenager on a rack and torturing her, there was nothing she could do. She'd just have to wait until she was ready to talk. She wasn't giving up, though. She'd hang out for a while, talking about other things, and hope that something would slip.

"Well, then… have you had breakfast?"

It was a little late for breakfast, but Cassie was still in her pajamas, so it was a good guess that she hadn't.

Sure enough, she shook her head.

"Why don't you get dressed and we'll go eat? I'm starved."

"I don't really feel like-"

"Please?"

Cassie sighed, and nodded.

"I'll go get dressed."

Score one for O'Neill…