Author's Note: Definite language alert in this one, folks!

OOOOOOOOOO

Ian was sitting at one of the tables when Jack walked in. Actually, he looked more slumped than anything; although he sat up a little straighter when Jack opened the door. When he saw who it was, however, he relaxed a little – as if, Jack decided, he'd expected Janet as well and wanted to look more awake or more alert.

Before he'd sat down, however, he'd started the coffee brewing in the machine on the little table against the wall by the serving window. Jack could tell by the sound it was making that it wasn't even close to being finished, so he walked over and sat down at the table across from Ian.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"You looked pretty miffed when you drove up…"

"Yeah."

Jack leaned back in his chair.

"Want to tell me why?"

"No."

He decided to just cut to the chase.

"Let me guess, then. You don't want to be here."

"No."

"Don't like the fresh air?"

"I don't need the fresh air."

"It's not going to kill you."

Ian ignored that. Jack didn't have a ton of time, so he went on without an answer.

"You hate the kids that much?"

Ian scowled.

"I don't hate them at all."

"They're good boys from what I've seen."

"They're fine."

"But you hate being here."

"I could be doing better things with my time."

"Like what?"

"Anything."

"That's not what's bothering you."

Ian scowled again, but he didn't deny it.

"No."

"You're mad because you were forced into coming, so now you're throwing a tantrum."

"Fuck you, Jack."

Jack didn't take that personally. In fact, he'd deliberately goaded Ian and had expected that reaction. Making Ian mad was the best way to get him to talk about what it was that was bothering him. The other way was to use Sam – but she wasn't there, and Jack didn't want to have to use Sam every time, any ways.

"Sounds like a tantrum to me."

Sure enough, it worked like a charm. Ian had been seething all morning – and most of the evening before – and like a dam breaking, the words just poured out.

"You try being forced to come up to a place you've never even fucking heard of, sleeping in a bed that fucking beats the shit out of you every time you try to get in or out of it, get surrounded by kids who are always screaming and running around and doing stupid shit and see how you like it."

"I've done it," Jack told him, calmly. "You think I volunteered to come up here the first time I came? You think Teal'c volunteered?"

Ian had heard the story.

"It's not the same."

"How so?"

"Because it's not."

Jack shook his head.

"Because…?"

"Because Hammond just got some wild hair up his ass and decided that this would be a good place for me to work on my people skills," Ian snapped. "How the fuck am I supposed to work on anything when I'm in a place I don't want to be, surrounded by people I don't know?"

"You know Shawn and River."

"And he wasn't planning on sending them."

"Being forced to do something you don't want to do is part of being in the military, Ian. You know that. We've gotten orders we haven't liked before."

"This one doesn't make sense, though," Ian said, leaning back in his chair. The fury was gone from his eyes and his expression – which Jack had figured would happen. He'd needed someone to blow up at, that was all – and better Jack than some little kid. "I'm not doing anyone any good here, and me learning how to deal with a fistful of six-year olds isn't going to save the world."

"You saved that little girl…"

"She was down there because of me in the first place," Ian told him. "Looking for that stupid fucking rock…"

Which was what Jack had heard, too, although he hadn't thought Ian had known.

"I heard about the story you told them…"

Ian shook his head.

"All the more reason to just let me go home. This is some kind of bad joke, Jack. I have no more business being here with all these kids than a porcupine in a balloon factory."

O'Neill smiled, even though he knew Ian was serious.

"It's not that bad, Ian. You did a good job fixing it with the whole pet rock thing."

"And look where that got us…"

"That wasn't your fault. Libby's counselors should have been watching her."

That much was true, and Ian knew it.

"For that matter," Jack said, shrugging. "The ground there wasn't safe, so the guys that dug out that new lagoon and didn't shore up the area around it are just as responsible as you – more so, even."

Ian still didn't look convinced, but Jack knew that there was no sense beating that particular horse to death. Ian was smart enough to go back and think about it later, and Jack knew he'd come to the same conclusion.

"The food isn't bad here."

Ian shook his head.

"It's ok."

It was actually better than just okay – better than Ian usually had, since he tended to eat out a lot instead of suffering with his own sub-par cooking.

"The kids don't smell."

"No."

"The other counselors seem nice."

"They're okay."

"It probably wouldn't kill you to stick around the last two days, you know…?"

Ian sighed.

"Fine."

"Sam and I are going to stay, too."

He looked up, surprised.

"Really?"

"Sure. We're already here, after all. No sense going home now. Besides, Fraiser says you're not as healthy as you think you are, so I'm going to fill in as an extra counselor in Australia."

"Then why can't I just-"

"But you have to stay," Jack interrupted. "Your boys are worried about you – poor Sammy thinks you're dead and we're just hiding it from him. They need to see you and be reassured."

Ian sighed, again. Now he just looked tired – and defeated.

"Fine."

"Be nice to them, okay?" Jack said, hearing the final gurgle of the coffee pot that told him it was finished brewing. "It's not their fault you're not happy here."

That much was true, and Ian knew it.

"Fine." He'd try. "But I'm not singing at campfire."

Jack smiled. He didn't expect miracles.

"Want a cup of coffee?"

"Sure."

"Stay put, I'll get it."