"So much for heading the way the gate is facing…"

Jack scowled at Daniel, who gave him a bland look. Obviously the archeologist had overheard Ian ask Jack on their first time through the gate how they knew which direction to go, and had heard Jack say that most of the places they'd gone, they'd found the interesting stuff the same direction the gate faced. This time it had proven to be wrong, and since it was obvious Ian wasn't going to say anything – he hadn't spoken a word all day as far as Daniel had heard – then he was going to say it for him.

They'd slogged through what could only be called marsh, although before the heavy rains it had probably been regular ground. The grass and trees were doing a good job keeping up with the copious amounts of water falling – they had yet to see any mudslides or sinkholes – but it wasn't ahead of the game. They had all fallen several times, and there were several deep puddles of standing water around them. Daniel had fallen into one and had had to be fished out by an angry Jack (angry because Daniel wasn't watching where he was going), and Ian had tripped over a root or vine that had been covered with standing water, and had fallen into one of his own. Teal'c had pulled him out, and had then noticed for the first time that Ian looked far more miserable than just a day of being rained on made for.

But Ian hadn't complained, and when Teal'c had asked him if he was feeling all right, the cadet had nodded and started walking again. The last thing he needed was Jack mad at him for slowing things down, after all. God forbid he yell at him for something he actually did do, for a change. He didn't feel good, though. For that matter, he felt bad. Cold, and hot at the same time, and he was shivering so hard his teeth would occasionally start chattering and he'd have to clamp down hard on his jaws to make sure Teal'c didn't hear him. His side ached abominably where he'd been slapped with the tree, and he just knew it was the bruises tightening up in the cold. This was one of those times he wished he weighed about a hundred more pounds so he'd have a little padding between him and the elements.

But now they weren't walking. They'd come to the edge of a very large clearing – in that there were absolutely no trees at all for at least a mile in every direction, which made it the biggest stretch of cleared ground they'd seen so far – and were now looking down on not one of those low-slung buildings, but several. A whole small community of them.

"We can't go down there, Daniel," Jack told him, as Ian and Teal'c came up beside them to overlook the little city as well. Hamlet would probably have been a more apt term, since Ian counted 15 buildings all told. Hardly New York, after all.

"What? Why not?"

Jack scowled.

"Because they're knee deep in water, and it's probably going to get deeper if this rain keeps up. We know where it is, now, we can come back and have a look at it when the rain stops."

Besides, he was cold, and wet.

"But-"

"No buts. I'm not going to go down there until we can see what we're walking on and in."

Since the safety of his team was Jack's responsibility more than anyone else's, it was also his final call, of course. And he was making it. Even if Daniel didn't like the answer.

Jack turned to Teal'c, and blatantly ignored Ian, who wasn't paying attention to him anyways. He'd just realized something else that was a lot more important to him than finding any stupid city. His holster was empty. Somewhere during their walk and in one the many times he'd tripped and fallen, he'd lost his Glock and hadn't even noticed in his misery.

Fuck.

"Let's head back," Jack said, sounding tired and miserable, as well. There was nothing worse than walking in the cold rain for hours to make you tired and grumpy – and glad that there was a hot shower waiting for you when you got home. Besides, lunch had come and gone, and none of them had felt like trying to eat soggy rations while standing under a tree that didn't afford much protection from the elements, so they'd skipped it. He was hungry.

Daniel was the only one who hesitated, and that was only for a minute. As much as he wanted to defy Jack and go down and see if there were legible writings on those walls, he was cold and wet, too, and really wanted to get out of the rain. He turned and followed the others back in to the trees. And promptly tripped.

OOOOOOOOOO

When Sam returned to the SGC, it was after lunch and she was about ready to pull her hair out in frustration with the stubbornness of teenagers. Cassie hadn't opened up anywhere near as much as Sam had hoped she would and all Sam had managed to get out of her was that the dance had been great, everyone had loved her dress, and she'd learned a few new dance moves. She hadn't mentioned Ian at all, and every time Sam brought him up, Cassie would get a hurt look in her expression – although it wasn't one Sam could decipher enough to draw her own conclusions about what was going on between the two of them.

When they'd finished eating, Cassie had told Sam that she had to get back home – well aware that the more time she spent with her, the more likely she was to spill the story – and made up an excuse that she had some things she needed to take care of. Which had been a lie. When she got home, Cassie had gone straight back into her bedroom, and had curled up on the bed, holding her pillow and wallowing in her misery once more.

"Any luck?" Janet asked, when Sam and the two labs walked into her infirmary. Janet had spent her morning and early afternoon stewing in anticipation of what Sam might find out, and when Sam shook her head, she felt the anticipation turn into irritation.

"She wouldn't tell me much… but I have a feeling that she had a good time at the dance, and that whatever happened between them happened afterwards."

"Of course it happened afterwards," Janet said, tartly. "He's hardly going to make his move in a crowd of people."

"You don't know what happened, Janet," Sam chided her friend. "Just because Cassie's upset, it doesn't mean Ian made a move on her. Maybe she's upset because he didn't make a move on her…"

"Which is why her dress was half unzipped?"

Sam shrugged.

"I'm just saying; try to be a little less accusatory – at least until you know what happened."

"I'm never going to find out at this rate…"

"She'll tell us, eventually. We'll just keep working on her. I'm more worried about Ian, really."

"What?" She scowled, glaring at her friend as if she'd just told her that she'd decided to become a Red Sox fan. "He's not the one that you need to worry about. He's-"

"In the middle of a witch hunt and for some reason won't tell anyone what happened, while everyone around him is turning on him."

"He-"

"Is an honorable young man, from everything I've seen, and until Cassie – and he – tells me otherwise, I'm not going to believe anything that circumstantial evidence says might have happened. And I suggest you get off your high horse and try to look past your anger and suspicion at what else is going on, too. Because I don't think this is just Ian…"

Janet looked at Sam in shock, but Sam didn't wait around. Calling both the dogs to her side, she headed for Jack's office. She'd had her say, and she'd had a chance to try and get Janet to think a little more rationally than she was. Now she was going to spend a little quiet time on the sofa in Jack's office, and maybe brush the dogs. Or maybe take a nap.

Janet scowled as Sam left, but she didn't call her back, and she didn't lose the irritation in her expression. She went into her office and closed the door in a huff, and flopped down in her chair, staring at paperwork that absolutely had to be done, and charts that had to be updated. And ignored it all and brooded.