"You know… you don't really have to stick around…"
Jack looked over at Sam, shifting Jake to his other arm as he did so. The three of them were in one of the VIP rooms in the base, while Shawn was in the one next door – with Jaffer.
"Yes, I do."
Sam smiled.
"You could go home. The bed is more comfortable."
"This one's fine."
And besides, they could be in a bed of nails and as long as he was with her it would be more comfortable than sleeping in a featherbed.
"The Asgard aren't going to try anything dumb, Jack. You know that."
Of course, they already had, but he didn't mention that. Instead, he shrugged – one armed to keep from waking Jake.
"I'll stick around and make sure. Besides, I don't have anything else to do with us on stand down until they're gone."
And there was no way he was going to leave Sam and Shawn to the Asgard alone.
"You could go spend some time with Ian…"
"He's in bed, most likely. That wouldn't be all that much fun…"
She smiled again.
"Cassie would probably disagree…"
Jack gave her a look that plainly said he didn't want to discuss that aspect of things, and Sam couldn't help but chuckle.
"You're such a prude, Jack O'Neill…"
"No I'm not."
She only shook her head, amused.
"Come to bed. I'm tired."
"Yes, ma'am."
He kissed their sleeping son softly, and settled him in his carrier. Tomorrow he'd be on baby duty while Sam and Shawn continued working with Thor and the others, and he knew he'd probably need at least a little sleep, too.
OOOOOOOOOO
Nathan Brooks frowned, his surprise at seeing Ian on their porch in the middle of the night quickly passing – especially when he saw all the bruises and the bandaged cut on his son's face.
"Are you all right?"
Ian nodded.
"What's with the baseball bat?"
"I saw you jump the fence."
"So you thought you'd brain me?"
Nate smiled.
"I didn't know it was you. What are you doing here? Does George know where you are? Are you in trouble?"
"I have a week off," he answered. "And thought I'd-"
"Nathan?"
The voice from behind Nate was sleepy and curious, and Nathan Brooks turned his head to see his wife walking over to the door, wearing a pair of slippers and a fuzzy green robe over her nightgown.
"Just a salesman, Maggie…" he said, smiling, because he knew she was going to be thrilled to see who was on the porch. "Should I send him away?"
"A salesman?"
Ian snorted, enjoying the surprise as much as his father. When Nate moved, opening the door even further so Maggie Brooks could see who it was in the light of the porch light, he smiled to see the surprised shock on her face – which only lasted a moment.
"Ian!"
If Bubba's greeting had been enthusiastic, Maggie's was far more touching. She threw her arms around her son, hugging him tightly, and then started scolding him for not telling her he was coming – and then noticed the bandage on his forehead and stopped in mid-sentence.
"What happened to your head?"
"I cut it. It's okay."
"Are you sure?"
"Can I come in?" He countered, trying to get the attention off his injuries.
Surprisingly, it worked. She took him by the hand and pulled him into the hall, while Nate reached out and took his bag from him.
"How did you get here?" he asked while they walked into the living room.
"I flew."
"You did?"
Maggie frowned, looking at him.
"Are you all right?"
He ducked his head, reaching down and rubbing Bubba's ears.
"I didn't have time to drive out."
Which wasn't an answer to the question she'd asked, and they all knew it – probably even Bubba knew it. But Maggie let it slide for the moment. She was too happy to see him to nag just then – and if he were going to be there any length of time, she'd have a chance to find out what was wrong, anyways.
"Are you hungry?"
He shook his head.
"I'm tired, more than anything."
She smiled, hugging him close again and pressing her cheek against his. Ian didn't mind a bit. Unlike a lot of young men, he was close to his mother, and was never afraid to let it show. He returned the embrace, and felt a wave of exhaustion overcome him and closed his eyes for a moment.
"The boy's dead on his feet, Maggie," Nate said, scolding her for hogging their son when Nate was just as glad to see him. It was a vast improvement over their previous relationship, and he was glad for the change. "Let's let him get to sleep. You can baby him in the morning."
She let go of Ian, who couldn't help but smile at that – and amazingly enough didn't even scowl at being called a boy – and glared at Nate.
"I'm not babying him, Nathan Michael Brooks. I'm…"
"Babying him," Nate finished.
"Giving him a warm welcome," she countered. "And I'll have you know, I've never-"
"Maggie…"
She trailed off, so pleased to have both of her guys under the same roof that she couldn't even think of a good threat to use on him just then.
"Fine." She hooked Ian's arm with hers and propelled him to a wide staircase that dominated the far end of the living room. "Go to bed, son. We'll talk in the morning when you've had a chance to get some sleep."
He nodded, kissed her cheek and took his bag from Nathan.
"I'll see you guys in the morning."
They both nodded, and watched him go up the stairs and disappear down the hall. Only when the door to his room closed a moment later did Maggie look at her husband.
"Do you think he's okay?"
"He said he had a week off," Nathan told her. "It makes sense, if he's that beat up." Nate hadn't missed the way Ian had winced when his mother had hugged him, and that meant that the bruises on his face were probably accompanied by others on his sides or chest.
"Should we call and ask Doctor Fraiser?"
Nate shook his head, catching her arm with his hand.
"He's a grownup, Maggie. If he says he's fine, then he is. He doesn't need us checking on him."
"But-"
"Besides, if it comes down to it, I'll call George and make sure everything's okay later."
Ian might be a grownup, but he was always going to be their son – and Nate was determined to keep him out of trouble now that Ian was letting him be his dad again.
"Good."
She could wait. A little while, anyways.
