At 11:40 the next morning, a mud brown four-door sedan pulled up to the main gate of the Cheyenne Mountain complex. The guards at the gate grinned once they saw who was driving it, and held up a hand to indicate that the driver needed to stop. Besides, it wasn't registered as a military car, and as such, it needed to get a temporary sticker before it would be allowed on the base.
"Nice car, Cadet."
Ian scowled as he carefully put the car in park to avoid jarring his hand – which was absolutely killing him.
"It was the only one the rental place had that wasn't a stick."
"That's what we heard."
Ian scowled again, wondering what else they'd heard – and who they'd heard it from.
About five minutes after Sam and Jack had left with Jacob the day before, Ian had been on the phone with the insurance company. He was tired and aching, but anxious to get his car taken care of. The company was a good one, and prompt, and had sent an adjuster out immediately. By the time Ian had finished wolfing down the burgers that Jack had brought him, there was a knock on the door and a woman in her mid thirties was standing there, ready to ask him all about what had happened.
An hour later, she'd left, promising him that a rental agency would have a car for him first thing in the morning, and she'd come by and take him to pick it up whenever was convenient for him. The whole story he'd told her had been unbelievable, she'd told him, but she'd also admitted to him that it wasn't anywhere near the oddest thing she'd ever heard – although it was the craziest so far that week. When she'd left, Ian had called Jack, telling him that he was going to be late the next morning and asking him to pass that on to those who needed to know – Fraiser and Hammond, specifically. Then he'd gone to bed, sleeping fitfully, but not getting up for anything until the next morning.
Annoyance and curiosity won out over aloofness.
"How did you hear that?"
The Sergeant smiled.
"Your insurance adjuster is related to an Airman – who in the interest of his own hide has sworn everyone to secrecy – and he couldn't get to work fast enough this morning to tell everyone how you and your car were attacked by a family of bears."
Ian scowled again.
"That's fucking great."
While they'd been talking, the private who was with the Sergeant had been writing down the VIN number of the car, and Ian's name and rank, and handed him a temporary sticker for the rental.
"Do we get to see the marks on your chest?" The Sergeant asked, his smile even broader. They rarely had a good chance like this – and Ian was so hard to pick on that it was priceless to have him such a situation.
"Not a chance in hell," Ian told him as he took the sticker for the car.
"Pass, friend," the Sergeant said, moving out of the way. "Doctor Fraiser left a message for you to go straight to see her."
"Thanks."
Ian put the car in drive and headed for his customary parking spot.
OOOOOOOOO
"How's the hand?"
"It hurts," he admitted, watching as Janet Fraiser started unwrapping the bandages on it.
"Scale of one to ten? One being not at all, ten being excruciating?"
He hesitated.
"Five, maybe…?"
It was probably a lot closer to ten than that, Janet decided, watching his face as she unwrapped his hand, but she didn't argue with him. The gashes were still a bit swollen and red, but lacked any sign of infection. They were deep and they were going to hurt him, but it wasn't life-threatening.
"I'll give you pills for the pain," she told him as she slathered antibiotic cream over the wounds. "They won't make you loopy, so don't panic, but they will cut down on how much it hurts – and they will help make it so you're not grounded from missions – as long as you don't have to shoot a handgun."
He nodded, watching as Janet finished what she was doing, and wrapped the hand again.
"Did you have lunch?" she asked as she reached for a bottle of small white tablets.
"Not yet."
"You need to go eat before taking these, or they'll tear up your stomach."
"Okay."
"You know where to find me if you need something stronger."
He nodded again, but Janet knew he'd never ask her for anything stronger.
"Thanks."
She smiled.
"Off with you. I have real patients to look after."
Ian returned her smile, and headed for the door. Lunch sounded great.
OOOOOOOOO
"Ian Brooks."
He turned as he was exiting the elevator, and saw Teal'c coming towards him, the hulking Jaffa making even the largest of Marines look small as he walked past them.
"Hey, Teal'c."
"I heard of your injury. It was not my intention for you to be injured when I requested your assistance with Andrew Stephens."
Ian shrugged.
"It was my own fault. No biggie."
"Did you have an opportunity to speak with Andrew?"
Now that he knew Ian wasn't going to hold a grudge about getting injured – and really, Teal'c didn't expect him to – he was interested in how things had gone.
"Plenty of time," he said. "I'm on my way to the commissary. You want to come?"
Teal'c nodded, and walked with him.
"I talked to him a couple of times," Ian reported. "I think his biggest problem is that he's way on the outside looking in just now."
"Explain."
"He thinks he should have went into the academy when Shawn did, because he's feeling left out of things right now – and with good reason, since the only challenge he has right now are the classes he's taking with Thor and the Asgard. Not to mention, he doesn't get to see as much of you and the others as he'd like, so he's a little lonely."
"I endeavor to see him as often as I can."
"He knows, Teal'c," Ian assured him as the two of them entered the commissary, which was filled with Marines and Air Force personnel eating their lunches. "And he understands that you're busy. I offered to let him come over to my place a few times a week – to prepare him for the classes he'll be taking next year at the academy – so that'll probably help the loneliness issue."
Not that Ian was the best company in the world, but he was better than nothing. At least Andrew didn't have to pretend to be something he wasn't with him.
"That was very kind of you."
Ian smiled.
"I can use the company."
Cassie couldn't come over every night, after all.
"Hey Brooks!"
Ian and Teal'c both looked over. A large group comprised of a mixture of Airmen and Marines was sitting at a table, and had obviously been discussing Ian's adventure. One of them – a Lieutenant – had been the one to call his name.
"I'll give you twenty bucks if you show us your chest…" he said, holding up a bill.
Ian scowled.
"Do I look like your mother at Mardi Gras?"
The others howled with laughter, and Ian and Teal'c walked over to the line of people waiting to get something to eat.
