"So what happens now?" Maggie asked once Jack had finished telling her a little bit more about what Ian had been up to. Not everything – some of it would still be classified until he heard otherwise from Hammond – but enough to let her know that what he'd been doing was important.

"We'll transfer Ian and McKay back to the SGC as soon Doctor Fraiser says they can be moved."

"It's more secure – and a lot more private," Sam added.

Nathan frowned.

"For how long?"

"Excuse me?"

"How long will it be private? The whole world knows they were in that ship that crashed, and they're going to want to know more about them – and sure as shit Hayes will use that for every political gain he can."

Jack was well aware of that – and had been thinking the same thing. The only problem was, there wasn't much he could do about that.

"I don't know, Nate. You know as well as I do that it's up to the President and people a lot higher up than I am."

"But you're his commanding officer," Maggie said.

"And I'm only a colonel," Jack reminded her. "Even Hammond might not have any influence when it comes to this thing. It just depends on what the President decides to do…"

Nate made a soft noise that might have been a growl, or might have been agreement, but Jack could tell that he was already debating about what he wanted to do. Jack might only be a colonel, but Nathan was a retired general – and had a ton of influence. Even if he wasn't all that familiar with the President and couldn't stand the Vice President.

"When will we be able to see him?" Maggie asked before Nathan could speak up again.

"When Fraiser says it's okay, I'll debrief him. Then you can see him before we move them. Are you going to want to go to Colorado?"

If they were, then Jack was going to need to give some fair warnings to Hammond.

Nathan looked at Maggie, who shrugged. She wanted to, but she wasn't sure if Ian would really want them there hovering over him.

"I want to talk to Hayes," Nathan said, finally. "And it'd be better to do it face to face. But we'll go on a commercial flight and we'll just stay at a hotel in some out of the way place…"

Which didn't mean that he'd stay out of the way, of course.

"I'll let General Hammond know."

"Good."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"You know they're going to find out."

"They don't have to. Only if you tell them."

"There aren't a lot of Berettas on Goa'uld ships, McKay. And even less chance that a Jaffa would get hold of one and shoot us with it. Besides, I'm sure everyone would love to hear about how you tried to kill me."

"Oh, come on. It was an accident and you know it."

Ian smirked, which earned him a scowl from McKay.

"We're heroes, you know," the astrophysicist continued. "You can't mess that up by inserting little details about who shot who and-"

"I'm not the one who shot you," Ian interrupted.

"Look, Lieutenant…"

"I'm going to sleep," Ian told him, closing his eyes once more, but unable to keep the amused grin off his face. This was too much fun, really. He was almost glad he'd been shot. Almost.

"But…" McKay scowled, and then winced when he shifted in the bed and jarred his broken ribs. "Ow, ow, ow…"

Ian opened his eyes and looked over. Really, McKay had taken the brunt of the crash, since Chelani had healed Ian's serious injuries. He knew how bad he was probably hurting, though, because broken ribs hurt pretty much worse than anything as far as he was concerned. And the whining was getting annoying, really quick.

"Let me see your hand."

McKay scowled, his face still contorted with pain – although it might have been a bit of an exaggeration. Or it might not have.

"What?"

"Give me your hand," Ian repeated.

"Why?"

"Just do it, or I'll call Fraiser in here and tell her all about how-"

"Fine."

McKay held out his hand and Ian took hold of it. For the first time in forever it seemed, he was hurt, but he wasn't really worn out or anything. He could spare a little energy.

"What are-"

"Hush for a minute."

"What?"

"Shut up, McKay."

The astrophysicist scowled, but he was silent – right up until Ian closed his eyes.

"Hey! I'm not holding your hand, Lieutenant. I have…" he trailed off when he felt a sudden warmth in his arm and then in his chest, and he frowned. "What the…"

Ian opened his eyes and dropped his hand and McKay stared at him.

"What did you do?"

"Does it still hurt?"

"What do you mean does it still hurt? Of course it still…" McKay trailed off, though, as he realized that, no, it didn't still hurt. It ached, yes, but it wasn't as bad as it had been. It wasn't even close to as bad as it had been. He stared at Ian. "How did you do that?"

"Ancient Chinese secret," Ian told him, closing his eyes again. Now he was tired and ready to get some rest – although he wasn't wiped out like he might have been before.

"Oh, funny. Really funny. Seriously, what did you do?" He scowled when Ian didn't open his eyes or answer him. "Hey! I'm talking to you. Hey! Don't ignore me…"

Ian sighed. He should have just left him as he was. The whining probably wasn't as bad as this was.