"If she bucks me off, I'm not going to be amused."

Jack smiled, his hand resting on the rump of the small paint colored horse that he was standing beside. Janet Fraiser was standing near at hand, looking a little less than enthusiastic about riding – just like she had been when Sam had suggested she join her and Jack for a ride in the first place.

"She is a he, doc," Jack said, making a vague gesture toward the horse's belly. "And he is a sweetheart who wouldn't hurt a fly."

Fraiser still didn't look all that convinced, but it was too late to back out now. The horse was already saddled, and the kids were waiting on them so they could get started.

"I'm going to hold you to that, Colonel."

She'd seen the bruises on River, after all.

"Trust me."

She scowled, and put her foot in the stirrup, hauling herself up into the saddle.

"No further than I can throw Butterball here."

Sam laughed, watching as Jack mounted as well, and the three of them looked over at the Wranglers, who were already in their saddles, the pony line stretched between two of them with the kids already in their saddles as well, looking excited and ready to go.

"We're ready," Sam told them.

They nodded, and started the line of ponies, the kids whooping it up like the cowboys and cowgirls they were pretending to be just then.

"I should have gone fishing," Janet muttered, wincing as her horse eased into a trot to catch up with the others.

"This is much better," Sam promised. "You'll see."

"Come on, Leadfoot," Jack said, bringing his horse up behind them at a canter and pulling him to a walk next to Sam's gelding. "You can go as fast as you want, and not have to worry about getting pulled over."

Janet rolled her eyes as Sam hid her smile. She was never going to live that down. Ever.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

The small dock wasn't really all that isolated from the rest of the camp, but it was quiet and out of the way, and perfect as far as Ian was concerned. Mainly because the only people on the dock just then were him, Shawn, Jacob and Jaffer. No kids. None.

Ian sat down on the sun-warmed wood, resting his back against a post that had probably originally been used to tie a boat or two to the dock but was now over dry land. He had Jake in his arms, after all, and there was no way he'd risk having the baby out over the water without a life vest or some kind of floatie thing on him. Jaffer had no such reservations about the water, however, and the big lab was standing on the very edge of the dock, his head down as he watched the water below him intently.

Shawn tossed the fishing poles to the side and carefully lowered himself down onto the dock as well, sitting close to Ian and using another post as a backrest as well. Ian had carried Jake down – even though Shawn had said that he could. He couldn't, of course. Not with the crutches. Ian hadn't even let him try, and Shawn was relieved, really. He didn't want to drop his brother, after all.

"Want me to take him?"

"Sure."

Ian handed Jake over to Shawn, who cuddled the baby under his chin – Jacob's favorite spot on pretty much every one – and then reached over and picked up a stick.

"Jaffer."

The lab turned his head to look at him, and his eyes lit up when he saw the stick in Ian's hand. He trotted over and sat down, watching Ian as intently as he'd been watching the water only a moment before.

"If you get him wet, you're going to have to get him dry before bedtime," Shawn warned.

Ian shrugged.

"I know."

He tossed the stick over the edge of the dock and Jaffer followed it immediately, splashing water everywhere as he went into the water. Luckily, Ian and Shawn were far enough back that Jake didn't get splashed. A minute later Jaffer was back, soaked and holding the stick in his mouth, looking as pleased as if he'd invented cheese whiz.

"Give it here, big dog," Ian said.

When Jaffer complied, Ian tossed the stick again. And again. And again. Until eventually Jaffer wound down a little and was ready to flop down on the dock and gnaw on the stick he'd been chasing for the last hour. Which had been the whole idea, really. There was plenty of sunlight on the dock to dry the lab, and now Ian could lean back and close his eyes without having to worry about being ambushed by a restless dog while he tried to nap.

Shawn looked over at Ian as he closed his eyes, and hesitated. He didn't want to bother him when he had obviously intended to take a nap, but they were alone and it was almost as perfect a scenario as he could have hoped for them to have a chance to talk. And Shawn definitely had a few questions for Ian – even if Ian didn't have any for him.

He shifted Jake a little – the baby had dozed off after only ten minutes or so – and spoke up.

"Hey… Ian?"

The New Yorker didn't even open his eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"What do Sam and Jack know about you that I don't?"

Ian opened his eyes and looked over at him, obviously confused.

"What?"

"What do they know that I don't?" Shawn repeated.

Ian frowned.

"I don't know… my favorite color?"

"I'm serious," Shawn said, knowing that Ian didn't have a clue what he was talking about since he hadn't phrased the question very well.

"I can tell, Adams," Ian said – which told Shawn that he was already getting defensive. Of course, Shawn was annoyed at him and Ian didn't know why, so it was somewhat understandable. "But I don't know what you're trying to ask me."

Shawn hesitated, trying to come up with a better way to ask.

"You remember when River was kidnapped by those guys from the Trust?"

"Yeah."

Of course he did.

"And he was hurt and so was I…?"

"Yeah."

Now Ian had an inkling of what Shawn was getting ready to ask, but he wasn't positive.

"Well… what does that have to do with this week? When you were sleeping for so long?"

"What makes you think it has anything to do with it?" Ian asked.

"Because Sam let it slip that it did – and then she wouldn't tell me anything else, saying that it was something she thought you'd already told me – but obviously it isn't. So I want to know what it is that she and Jack know that I don't – but that she thought I did."

Jaffer picked himself up off the dock where he'd been soaking up the sun and moved over to flop down beside Ian, his head coming to a rest on the New Yorker's leg.

Ian hesitated, and Shawn scowled, certain that Ian was about to shrug him off.

"I want to know, Ian. Don't tell me it's classified, either, because if Sam thought I knew, then she must have assumed you'd told me. Otherwise she wouldn't have let it slip in the first place."

"It is classified," Ian said. "At least, it's not something everyone should know – and definitely not something I want anyone to know that doesn't need to."

"Does Cassie know?" Shawn challenged.

"No."

Oh.

Undeterred, Shawn pressed the issue.

"I-"

Ian interrupted him, not ready to start an argument when all he wanted was some peace and quiet.

"Look, Shawn, if you want to know I'll tell you. But you need to know; it's not something I want spread around – not even to River or Cassie – and it might ring up some subjects you don't want to discuss."

It wasn't something Ian wanted to discuss, that was for certain, but he had to admit that of anyone, Shawn had the most right to know what he did.

Shawn hesitated, realizing that Ian wouldn't give him a warning like that without meaning something serious. Especially since Ian wasn't usually known for trying to spare anyone's feelings – although Shawn knew he wasn't quite as heartless as he wanted those around him to think he was. Finally, though, he shrugged – as well as he could, anyways, with Jake asleep on his shoulder.

"I want to know…"