"Doctor McKay…" one of the reporters said, standing up. "How long have you been with the Stargate program?"

Beaming at having a question finally directed at him, McKay stood.

"Since the beginning."

Daniel looked at him, incredulously. He certainly didn't remember seeing McKay trying to decipher the symbols on the Stargate…

McKay caught the look and rolled his eyes impatiently.

"Well, not at the very beginning," he amended. "But pretty close. They brought me in when their own scientific geniuses couldn't solve a-"

"Thank you, Doctor McKay," Hammond interrupted, before Sam could stab him with her microphone. McKay scowled, but sat down again.

The press conference was going fairly smoothly, which pleased everyone involved – at least the politicians. With Ian gone from the picture (literally) the media had focused on Jack and Hammond – Hammond because he was the leader of the Stargate program, and Jack because he was the leader of the mission team that had saved the world. This suited Hayes very well, since he wanted the world – and most especially the American people – to be interested and awed by Hammond and O'Neill both. It would make his work that much easier.

"Colonel O'Neill?" another reporter said, standing. "Same question, sir."

Jack nodded.

"I've been here since it started. I was in command of the first mission through the gate…"

There were several nods of approval from the press, as if Jack had just confirmed what they'd already decided – which he probably had.

And still the questions went on…

OOOOOOOOOOO

"What are you doing here?" Ian asked, walking over to the sofa and sitting down with a relieved sigh.

River Hayden shifted a little to make sure he had room, but he didn't get up. Instead he just grinned.

"Hiding from your adoring public."

Ian frowned.

"What?"

"The press found out that I was your roommate and have been all over me trying to find out information about you."

"What did you tell them?"

"Nothing. What's your favorite flavor of ice cream?"

Ian rolled his eyes.

"Vanilla with orange sherbet. Why?"

"Because apparently I can make a fortune selling that information to the media."

"But you won't…"

"Of course not." River snorted, good-naturedly. "When I decide to become famous, it's going to be because I'm an ace fighter pilot, not because I know a loser like you."

Ian smiled, not at all offended. What he really felt was relief at being with someone who he actually considered to be his best friend – odd as that was considering they were complete opposites. Cassandra was his girlfriend – and he loved her – but she was his best friend in one way, while this was completely different.

Then there was Shawn, who was a good friend, but someone that Ian was too uncomfortable around to be completely at ease with – which had, of course, been one of the reasons he'd left the academy early. By being the one who suggested that his parents fly on the flight that had crashed and killed them, he had hurt Shawn – whether the boy acknowledged it or not – and Ian wouldn't ever forget that. He couldn't. He'd do anything for Adams, but he couldn't relax entirely around him.

Unlike River Hayden, who was carefree and completely willing to banter with a guy that pretty much everyone else hated (either because they'd been treated like shit by him, or because they were jealous of him). River didn't fear Ian's temper – he didn't fear anything, really – and he certainly wasn't worried about his caustic sense of humor. And Ian knew it.

"How did you get in?"

"Broke in."

"Bullshit."

"I'm a cat burglar in training, didn't you know?"

Ian rolled his eyes.

"Seriously…"

"Got a key from Daniel."

"They know you're here?"

"Duh."

How else would he have gotten the key?

"I wonder why they didn't tell me…" Ian muttered.

"Probably haven't had a lot of chance to," River said, shrugging. "I'm hungry. Are we ordering in or going out?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Pizza?"

"Why don't you cook something? You're the brilliant chef."

Maybe not that far, but Ian knew he could cook.

"With what? The mayo in the fridge? Or the moldy bread in the cupboard? Jesus, dude, what do you eat?"

Ian shrugged.

"It's not that bad…"

River ignored that.

"How much trouble are you going to get into for ditching the press conference?"

"I don't know."

And he really couldn't care.

"They're going to get you eventually, you know. You should have just answered their questions…"

Ian scowled.

"It's personal…"

"They're going to find out," River told him, getting up and heading for the kitchen, where the phone was. He was hungry. "You can't go anyplace without them following you."

Ian turned to look at him.

"There is one place I could go…"

River raised a curious eyebrow at the way he'd said it.

"Where?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you…"