"I'm not eating that…"
Andrew snorted, stirring the mixture in the bowl once more and giving Ian an exasperated look.
"Come on, it's good. Really."
"It's snow mixed with canned milk, sugar and vanilla. How good can it be?"
"It's not yellow snow."
"I'm not-"
"You've never had snow ice cream?" Andrew asked – again. He'd asked it several times while a mystified Ian had followed him outside after he'd grabbed up two large bowls and had gathered large heaping amounts of clean snow. He'd asked it again as he'd used a knife to stab open a hole in a can of evaporated milk – which wasn't as good as the cream you were supposed to use, but would still work.
Ian scowled.
"Ice cream isn't made from snow, Andrew. It's made-"
"You can make it from snow if you're desperate enough for ice cream, Ian," Andrew said, taking a bite. It wasn't bad at all. "I learned it in the Boy Scouts."
"I'm not that desperate."
"Come on…" Andrew told him, handing him the bowl he'd made for him. "Try something new for crying out loud."
"Try something new?" Ian gave him a derisive snort, ignoring the bowl. "Do you have any idea how many new things I've been trying for the last year?"
Andrew had to concede that point, but he was still unwilling to give up.
"Just try it. If you don't like it, you don't have to eat it."
Of course, he didn't have to eat it, now, did he? Ian sighed, and reached for the bowl, taking a little nibble of the already melting concoction. It was sweet, and milky, and wasn't absolutely terrible – but Ian still wasn't going to eat it.
"Why don't your grandparents keep real ice cream in their freezer?"
He shrugged.
"They probably didn't think it'd be good when they got back. You don't like it?"
"I didn't say that."
"You do like it?"
Ian scowled.
"I didn't say that, either."
Andrew shook his head, giving up. He carried his bowl out of the kitchen and went over to sit at the large table where they'd had dinner. Ian followed him, after putting his own bowl in the sink.
"You're a Boy Scout?" He asked, coming over and sitting down as well.
Andrew shook his head.
"I was. But I didn't have any time for it, anymore, so I quit."
Which had probably been the last killer of any chance he'd ever had to make real friends in his school, since the guys hadn't understood why he'd quit and had been pretty pissed.
Ian nodded his understanding. Of course he didn't have any time – he was doing schoolwork by day and Asgard shit by night. Even Ian probably had more free time than Andrew did.
"Were you one?" Andrew asked, curiously.
Ian smiled, wryly.
"I was. For a week or so. Turned out I wasn't really Boy Scout material – and we all figured that out pretty quick."
"Why not?"
Ian shrugged.
"I'm not the most social guy in the world – in case you hadn't noticed. And I wasn't much better when I was a kid."
"But you get along pretty well with everyone, don't you?" Andrew asked, confused.
"I get along well with some people," Ian corrected. "Most people – even the kids I went to school with – didn't really like me all that much. And I couldn't stand most of them."
"Really?"
Ian nodded, playing with the saltshaker. He wasn't really one to open up like this, but it wasn't really a secret that he was an asshole, and it was probably exactly what Andrew needed to hear, so he elaborated.
"Oh yeah. People drove me nuts when I was growing up – they still do, really. I'd rather have chopped my hand off than hang out with most of the retards I went to school with."
Andrew smiled, but didn't say anything, and Ian continued.
"Because I was smarter than them, they were always pestering me for help, usually with homework – and I suppose if I were less of a prick I would have helped them – but God, I hated them for bothering me. And I hated having them talk about me like I wasn't there – even when they were saying how smart I was. Like they thought I was deaf or something. Dumb bastards."
Andrew was staring at Ian, completely surprised by this revelation. It was almost exactly how he felt most of the time, after all. But he'd never have thought in a million years that Ian might have felt the same way.
Uncomfortable, Ian shrugged, looking at the bowl in front of Andrew.
"You'd better eat that shit before it melts," he told him, standing up. "I'm going to go to bed."
It was a bit earlier than he'd normally go, of course, but it was well past dark and he figured the sooner he went to bed the sooner morning would come and he could get back to Colorado Springs and get some breakfast – and maybe even a real bowl of ice cream.
Andrew smiled, and nodded.
"I'll see you in the morning."
"Yup."
OOOOOOOOOO
"So…"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think it occurred to Teal'c that if Andrew spends a lot of time around Ian there's every chance he's going to start talking like him?"
Jack smiled, looking at Sam as he pulled her gently closer so he could cuddle her.
"I don't think we need to worry."
She shrugged, tucking her head under his chin and listening to his heart beating in his chest while her hand slid under his shirt to caress his flat stomach.
"I don't know… he's at that impressionable age…"
Jack rolled just a little, so he could return the favor and caress her side tenderly, and he titled his head, kissing her temple.
"There are worse role models out there…"
Sam smiled; knowing that was pretty much the best compliment Ian was ever going to get and thinking it was too bad he hadn't even heard it.
"As long as you're not worried…" She said, her hand moving lower.
"I'm not."
If his voice was a little breathless all of the sudden, Sam understood, and her smile widened. They were both a little tired after a long day of taking care of their son and doing household things that had been put off too long, but she was certain he wouldn't mind staying awake a little while longer – especially now that Jake was asleep. His reaction proved her correct, and for a long time Ian and Andrew were the last thing either of them were thinking of.
