The phone was picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Shawn."

"Hi, Jack. Did you find him?"

"Not yet, buddy. But we've got a pretty good idea of what happened to him. I need you to do us a favor."

"Sure. What?"

"Get that device that we use to get a hold of Thor – either yours, or the one in my nightstand – and bring it to the SGC."

Shawn hesitated.

"You want me to call Thor?"

"No," Jack said, shaking his head even though Shawn couldn't see that over the phone. "I want you to bring it here so I can call Thor."

"You think he can help find Ian?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm pretty sure he can…"

There was an odd note in Jack's voice, Shawn noticed, but he wasn't sure if it was anger or frustration. Sometimes it was hard to tell with Jack – even for Shawn who knew him so well.

"What about Jake?"

They'd left Jake in his care, after all, and he was pretty sure that they didn't want him to leave the baby home alone – even though he was still asleep.

"You'll have to bring him, too. Can you do that?"

"In the truck?"

"Yeah. You okay with that?"

Shawn had his license, now. He'd had it all of a couple of months, and while he'd driven both the car and the truck countless times, he'd never driven Jake anywhere – had never even had the baby in the car with him. It made him feel good that Jack trusted him with the baby. It was a sign that he trusted his driving, and Shawn couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at that.

"Yeah. I can do it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. You can trust me, Jack."

Now the anger was gone, replaced by something else. Pride.

"I know I can, Shawn. Bring Jake – but don't forget that device. And don't call Thor before you get here."

"Okay."

Jack hung up – without telling him to drive safe, Shawn noticed with another little surge of pride – and Shawn headed for Jake's nursery. He could do this, no problem.

OOOOOOO

"Shawn's bringing the device," Jack said, unnecessarily since everyone in the room had heard enough of the conversation to understand that on their own. "Then we'll find out what's going on."

"I still can't believe Thor would be crazy enough to kidnap Ian," Sam said. "There's got to be something more…"

"He can tell us all about it when we talk to him," Hammond said, sitting on the edge of Janet's desk. "How long do you think it'll take for Shawn to get here?"

"Hopefully he'll drive safely and not speed," Jack said. "Twenty minutes, maybe a half hour."

"I'll call up to the gate and tell them to expect him."

OOOOOOOOOO

The ship wasn't a large one. The small corridor Ian found himself in wasn't more than sixty feet long, and at the end of it – just like he'd pretty much expected – Ian found the bridge.

As he'd been walking, he'd been thinking – and trying to calm himself down a bit. There was no way in hell he'd find a weapon to use to threaten Loki to take him back to Earth – and the little bastard must have known it, because he hadn't even tried to stop Ian when he'd left the room. Ian didn't have his Glock – they'd taken that from him presumably before they'd put him to bed – which didn't necessarily mean he was as helpless as Loki thought he was.

The Asgard weren't like the Jaffa – or even the humans. They were small and fragile and they didn't rely on hand weapons or the like – you'd never see Asgard shock troops. They relied on their greater technology to protect their worlds and defend themselves (and to kidnap people, Ian's mind added angrily, ignoring the fact that he was trying to concentrate on something else to keep himself from fuming more than he already was).

The problem with that was that once someone was inside their technology and up close, they weren't the best-suited people when it came to defending themselves. Which wasn't commonly known to their enemies (who assumed that the Asgard had all sorts of personal technology to protect themselves) but unfortunately for Loki, Ian was well aware of this – and was already deciding that he didn't have any other choice but to take matters a completely different direction. Which was the reason he was trying to calm down instead of allowing himself to get angrier – which he normally would have done. He was about to take over the situation, and he didn't want to be too angry when he did it, because anger would make him make a mistake (Bra'tac had taught him that and Teal'c and Jack had both reinforced that lesson).

"You will not find anything here," Loki said, reasonably, as they walked onto the bridge of the ship. He had assumed that Ian was looking for a weapon. Humans always looked for weapons, he knew. But he didn't have any, the boy didn't have any, and Loki was well aware that he was very much in control things. "The sooner you tell me what I need to know, the sooner I will return you to your-"

He didn't even finish the sentence. Ian had whirled on him, swinging a hand in an odd angle that drew Loki's gaze, even as he felt something hit him hard on the other side of the head. It was a perfect blow, and the Asgard dropped like a fallen rock.

Half amazed that he'd managed to drop the little alien so easily; Ian crouched down beside Loki and checked to make sure he hadn't accidentally killed him. Not that he didn't want to – and now the anger was returning – but he might need him. Definitely would need him. But on his terms.

The alien was breathing shallowly – which was almost normal for them according to Andrew Stephens – and he had a pulse. Good. Fighting back a wave of exhaustion that surprised him, Ian lurched to his feet and headed for the main console of the ship. And frowned.

He could read Asgard. What he hadn't learned from Shawn's little dictionary (and Shawn and Andrew, who were both fluent) he'd picked up from the Ancient's download. But he didn't know shit about their technology. Well, he knew a little – probably more than the Asgard would like for him to know – but not enough to fly the thing. And certainly not enough to navigate the bastard back to Earth. Knowing his luck, he'd ram them into a planet or a sun or something, and wouldn't that be fucking lovely?

"Shit…"

The control panel had a million (27) buttons and panels. None of them were labeled 'stop' and 'go'.

"I hate flying," Ian muttered, pressing one of the buttons that might have been the hyperspace drive shut off (at least he thought it might be) and hoping it wasn't the self destruct button.