Thanksgiving with the O'Neills

Author's Note: So! This story is going to have probably no combat scenes, no bad guys and no guns shooting or dogs slashing or anything like that. It will have plenty of Sam and Jack fluffiness, plenty of Jaffer loving, and lots of Ian because he's staying with them, remember – although everyone else will show up, too... more or less. There is no plot – aside from the fact that it's centered around Thanksgiving – and no real story line from the get go. So, that said – and if I haven't scared you away... read on!

Another Note: For those of you who wonder, Jack puts up with Ian's potty mouth for a few reasons. Some will come out later, but one is that he figures Ian saved Shawn's life in The Next Step, and someone who saves someone Jack loves is already doing good in Jack's book... (remember, that's one of the reasons Jack likes Emmett Bregman)

Disclaimer: I don't own the SG-1 characters or their surroundings. I do own all the made up people who show up. (And I don't own Thanksgiving, or we'd have pumpkin pie for the main course instead of turkey)

OOOOOOOOOO

The young man was leaning against a retaining wall, waiting. At his feet was a duffle bag, and on the duffle bag was a leather jacket that he didn't need to wear just then, but figured he might need sometime in the next few days. He was wearing a USAFA sweatshirt and jeans, something he didn't normally get to wear nowadays. He was good looking, although those looks were marred by a deep bruise on his chin and a slight edge in his dark eyes that told those who passed him by that he wasn't someone they wanted to stop and make small talk with.

Of course, those that were passing him already knew him, and they knew they didn't want to stop and chat. He had quite a reputation – even though he'd only been at the Academy for a few months – and even most of the upper classmen knew that he wouldn't think twice about taking them down a few pegs if they tried to pull rank on him unnecessarily. He had a sharp tongue, and a quick temper, and precious little fear of anything around him.

A horn sounded and a black truck pulled up in front of the building, and the face that had been brooding only moments before was suddenly transformed by a slight smile. The eyes that were so dark and desolate were suddenly warm, and the face was still marred by the bruise, but now the smile softened the hard edges, and as he reached down and picked up his duffel, he felt a surge of delight going through him that he rarely allowed himself to feel.

"Hurry up, Ian, or we're going to make you run behind the truck!"

The order came from Jack O'Neill, although Ian could barely see him past the large form of O'Neill's black lab, Jaffer. The dog was sitting in the front passenger seat of the truck, his head out the window as he watched Ian trot over to toss his bag and jacket in the bed of O'Neill's truck. Jaffer wuffled Ian cheerfully as the cadet opened the door, then moved into the jump seat in the back so he could get in.

"Sorry I'm late," Jack said as Ian buckled his seatbelt. "I had to make a couple of stops."

"No problem, Colonel O'Neill," Ian told him, truthfully. "I didn't mind waiting."

"Good." Jack put the truck in gear. "I hope you don't mind shopping, either, because that's our next stop."

"Shopping?"

"Sam has a list as long as my arm, and I told her that you and I would be happy to do her shopping for her."

"Better that we do it and she doesn't have the chance to try and carry it all."

Jack nodded, "My thoughts exactly." He knew there was a reason he liked this kid.

"Well, I can drive a shopping cart as well as anyone..."

"Sam said for me to tell you that you're to get anything you want to snack on, and you're not to try to pay for it yourself," Jack said, looking over at him. "You're our guest this weekend, and you're going to act like it, whether you want to or not. Her words."

Ian smiled. He wasn't used to being the guest.

"Yes, Sir."

"You're also going to stop calling me Colonel, and stop calling her Major – at least for the time you're with us, okay? My words."

Ian nodded.

"Thank you."

Jack shrugged, and turned back to the road, and Ian reached over his shoulder and scratched Jaffer's ear. The black lab had been hovering; sniffing his hair and ear noisily as he reminded himself that he knew who this was and liked him. Of course, Jaffer pretty much liked everyone, so it wasn't hard to make friends with him, and Ian loved black labs – had one of his own at home – so he didn't even have to pretend to enjoy the dog's attentions.

OOOOOO

They pulled into the parking lot of a large grocery store, and discovered that they weren't the only ones who'd been sent to do some grocery shopping. The lot was filled with cars, and Jack ended up parking almost on the complete opposite end of the lot. Jack got out and let Jaffer out, then gestured for the dog to hop into the back of the truck so he could have some fresh air while they shopped. He wasn't worried about Jaffer running off – the lab wouldn't move until Jack returned – but this way he could watch the people around him, and maybe even do some flirting if he wanted to. Jaffer loved to flirt with people.

"Don't worry about your bag," O'Neill said to Ian as the cadet got out of the truck as well.

"Nothing in there to steal, anyways," Ian said, smiling. He knew no one would steal it, though. Jaffer was big enough that he'd intimidate any would-be thief, and anyone dumb enough to try to take it would probably wish they hadn't. He patted Jaffer as he walked past, and joined O'Neill in the walk across the lot.

"You got a list?" Ian asked when they entered the store. It was packed with people, and somewhere there was a screaming child who was making sure the world knew he wanted that candy bar his mother wasn't going to let him have.

Jack pulled a piece of paper out of his coat pocket, and ripped it in half. He handed one piece to Ian, and kept the other.

"You take care of that list, I'll take care of this one."

Ian nodded. Fair enough.

"I'll meet you in a check out line somewhere... if I don't get trampled by the masses."

"Yes, Sir."

They separated, and Ian went to find a cart. It was only grocery shopping, and he had a list. How hard could it be?