"I don't want to be the pitcher anymore."

Ian's voice held more petulance than annoyance, but for once, he would have been well within his rights to be annoyed. He'd been pitcher for two innings (they were playing that everyone on the team batted, and then the other team was up) and out of those two innings and twenty batters, Ian had already been hit by a line drive ball four times. Three hit by his own boys, and one hit by one of the Romanian girls. All had struck him in the stomach and chest with varying degrees of velocity and he was really starting to ache.

"Aww, don't be such a baby, Ian."

He scowled at Ann, who was standing close by, helping one of her girls with her shoelace.

"You're not the one they're using as target practice."

She smiled.

"It's a softball."

If she'd been a guy, Ian would have thrown the ball at her, just to prove how hard it really hurt. As it was, he just scowled again, which unaccountably made the little girl who was being helped giggle.

He lifted his shirt, looking at the red welts that were decorating his chest and stomach – at least the line drive Shawn had whacked at him had been off the mark enough that he'd been able to dodge it. That one would have really hurt, since Shawn had a lot more power behind his swing than the little kids did.

"I bruise easily, you know…?"

"Come on, Brooks," River called from the home plate, where he was swinging the bat. He was first up this time, and he was anxious to play – not listen to Ian whine. "Throw me the high heat."

Ian just managed to keep from telling Hayden to fuck himself – barely – and lowered his shirt. There was no sympathy in Ann's expression – only amusement – and he was pretty sure that she wasn't going to offer to be the pitcher for him. He sighed, and turned to River, who grinned, swinging the bat and showing him where to put the ball. Like he was going to accommodate the overly tanned wise-ass by throwing him the ball where he wanted it. Besides, he was pitching underhanded, and there was no such thing as high heat when the ball was coming in at a whopping 4 miles an hour.

He looked at Brian, who was playing catcher, making sure the little boy was ready, and pitched the ball. River, of course, swung immediately, and the contact was solid. Ian heard the dull thud as the wood bat hit the softball, but the ball came at him way too fast for him to dodge it – although he tried.

"Watc-"

That was all Ian heard of River's warning cry, because the next thing he heard was the thud of the ball hitting him in the head, and then a searing pain that dropped him like a rock.

OOOOOOOOO

His face pale and concerned, Jack O'Neill entered the infirmary at what could only be called a quick trot, even though he was trying to hide just how worried he was. A medic met him at the entrance, and Jack rocked back on his heels trying to avoid a collision.

"Major O'Neill's in the bed to the far left, sir," the medic told him without preamble.

Jack nodded, and headed that direction, and was immediately intercepted by Janet Fraiser.

"Don't panic, Colonel. She's going to be fine."

"What happened?"

"She tripped on one of the steps in the command center and went down. But-"

"Is she hurt?"

Janet shrugged, affecting an unconcerned expression – knowing that it would help keep him from worrying as well. Well, it'd help a little bit, anyways. Maybe.

"She hurt her knee; it's sprained and swollen, but nothing is broken – and there's a nasty welt on her chin that's going to bruise. It looks like that's what she hit on the step. Luckily, she was going up the steps instead of down them, or she might have really hurt herself. As it is, it's not serious, but she's going to have a little trouble moving around for the next couple of days."

"No permanent injury?" Jack didn't like the thought that Sam had hit her head – even though Janet didn't seem too concerned.

Janet shook her head.

"No. She won't even need to stay in the infirmary once I've finished with my tests. But she's going to need help moving around – and I'd prefer she stays off her feet with the leg elevated for a while."

"How long?"

"A couple of days. I'll inform General Hammond that I advise light duty for the next couple of days – or maybe just a couple of days off."

"Sam won't like that," Jack said, shaking his head. "She's working on that… whatever it is… thing, and-"

"Jack?"

Sam was pretty sure she'd heard Jack's voice, but the curtain around her bed was closed, so she couldn't be positive. Until a moment after she called his name, the curtain moved and he appeared out of nowhere, his worried eyes belying his forced smile.

"Hey," he told her as he looked her over. Her left knee was heavily bandaged – just to immobilize it Jack knew from personal experience – and like Janet had said, there was a welt on her chin that was well on its way to bruising. "How do you feel?"

"Like a klutz."

He smiled, like she'd intended for him to, and sat down on the edge of her bed.

"Tripped on the stairs, huh?"

She nodded, flushing with embarrassment and chagrin.

"Please tell me they didn't get it on the security cameras…"

Jack's smile was a little more relaxed, now. She was able to joke with him, despite the injury, and that – of course – made him feel a lot better.

"I'll be selling copies on the internet as soon as I can get hold of one…"

She slapped his arm, her eyes filled with amusement now, and Jack reached over and brushed his fingertips against her cheek.

"Really… how do you feel? If you want, we can recall Ian and get him to take care of-"

"Janet says it's not serious, Jack, and it doesn't feel that bad." She had no intention of calling Ian – although he'd probably welcome the call by now. "I'm not going to have him hovering around me just because I took a little fall…"

Besides, Ian wasn't their medicinal tool to be used for every little injury. As far as Sam was concerned, that healing gift seemed to take something out of him every time he used it, and she wasn't going to let him use it on her when mother nature would do just as good a job of healing her – even though it would take a few more days.