Strong T rating, if not edging towards an M. Nothing too graphic. Loads of Jack appreciation in this one. YUM!
CHAPTER 35: WHAT DO YOU MEAN
Sam found Daniel sitting by himself in the waiting room looking exhausted and out of sorts.
She sidled up next to him with a sympathetic smile. "You OK?"
"Just tired."
"Jack said you did great out there."
"Yeah he would. He would definitely think that."
Sam instantly bristled at his tone. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Daniel petulantly shook his head in resignation. "Look, I'm not doing this with you. When it comes to this sort of thing you'll always take his side anyway. There's no point."
She was rapidly losing her patience with Daniel. He'd been withdrawn since coming back from Russia, but with Jack and Cassie both injured, she'd focused on them, relegating Daniel's issues as something to be dealt with later. Later was apparently now. "What sort of 'thing'?"
"Military thinking. Those moral hazards that Jack sometimes turns a blind eye to just so he can accomplish the mission."
"You know that's not true," There had been plenty of instances in the past 8 years where she'd backed up Daniel and outright disagreed with her CO. "Just because I follow orders doesn't mean I always agree with them. Where is this all coming from anyway?"
"Hell, I don't know! It's just this whole mission from start to end has been bothering me. We went in there with the intention of extracting Kinsey and convincing the Russians that we weren't compromised by the Goa'uld. I was prepared to do a whole lot of talking, that's what I do, that's why I thought Jack wanted me there in the first place. Instead I end up playing Ding Chavez to his John Clark. The whole thing was insane…"
Sam smirked at the reference he made to one of Jack's secret pleasures. "Sounds incestuous. I can't imagine you calling me 'mom'..."
Daniel rolled his eyes. "That Goa'uld pleasure palace has a lot to answer for. Another thing… When did Jack become a polyglot? Russian I can sort of understand with the Cold War and the whole black ops deal, but Finnish?! Even I don't speak that. It's not exactly one of those languages that you can easily pick up. The only people who speak it are the Finns themselves, and they're not exactly known for being talkative."
"I've long ago accepted that Jack will never volunteer information unless absolutely necessary, and often not even then." She suspected that Daniel was feeling a little left out and he was acting surly because of it. He hated not knowing something and Jack was still a big mystery that was taking them years to unfold. There was also that part of Daniel that doubted his importance in Jack's life, but it wasn't her place to reassure him of that.
"But how can you accept it? Don't you have the right more than anyone to know these things about him?"
"I'm also a military brat, Daniel." A bit of exasperation had leaked into her voice, but she was determined to make him understand. "My mother taught me early on how to be a military wife. She said never to ask questions my father couldn't answer truthfully. Joining the Air Force merely reinforced that belief."
Daniel paused in thought at her explanation. "I keep forgetting sometimes that Jacob hasn't always been a Tok'ra." He considered Sam's words. "Then again, there's a reason why he gets along with Jack like a house on fire - despite their occasional disagreements," he tagged on at the end. No one but Jack was able to press Jacob's buttons so consistently and unerringly.
"Are you kidding? You should've seen them the first time they met. Dad looked ready to throttle him on the spot. I've never seen Jack high tail it so quickly even with a System Lord on his heels."
"He probably thought you were sleeping with Jack."
Sam's eyes widened comically. "Excuse me?"
"You guys weren't as good back then at disguising your feelings. Both of you used to push the envelope a bit further than appropriate before the whole Za'tarc thing. Nothing that would be cause for discipline, but I saw General Hammond on occasion look slightly queasy at the thought."
"Daniel! Why didn't you say anything?"
"Why? So I can be subjected to all-out denial and quoted the UCMJ? You guys weren't breaking any rules, there was no point in making you uncomfortable."
"Were we that obvious?" She looked appalled. Something inside her revolted at the thought.
"Not… to everyone," he reassured her.
"My dad did give Jack his blessing," she confided to Daniel, her heart feeling warm and fuzzy at the memory. Jack had been all sorts of befuddled why her father would readily accept him as a son-in-law when he wasn't entirely sure of it himself. "Never in a million years would Major General Carter do that if he didn't like him."
Daniel had to smile at that. No matter his feelings at the moment, Sam and Jack were his best friends and he genuinely wanted them to be happy. "I'm pretty sure Jack reciprocates those feelings. When he's not jetting off on the weekends to see you in Nevada, he's up there," he pointed up at the ceiling, "Checking up on Jacob."
"Jack said he considers dad as the father he never had," she nudged Daniel with her shoulders, "He lost his parents when he was just a kid."
Daniel nodded resignedly. "When you're all kinds of messed up you tend to gravitate to more of the same."
Screwed calling unto screwed.
"Hey, we may have started that way, but I think we've done pretty well for ourselves… Saved the world if not the galaxy a few times, I'd say that's well done," Sam argued.
He looked at her sideways, narrowing his eyes at the very Jack comment. "That O'Neill arrogance is rubbing off on you."
"He does rub so well…" she said in an annoyingly dreamy voice.
"Ugh! Sam. You're like my sister. Don't say shit like that around me."
"I guess I'm the only one that Jack's rubbing off on, Mr. Potty Mouth."
"It's Russia. They swear a lot," he said defensively. "It's as if chertov were a mandatory vocative marker."
"Feel better?"
"Maybe."
"He doesn't do it just to annoy you you know?"
"No. Not just to annoy me."
"You're his best friend, Daniel, don't forget that. Just because he doesn't share doesn't mean he cares less about you," she tried to reassure him without stepping over the line.
Sam sighed at his still sullen figure.
"He speaks five other languages pretty fluently that I know of," she conceded with that little revelation.
Daniel perked up. "Which ones?"
"His file didn't specify, but you already know he's fluent in Russian. As for non-Earth languages I suspect he's also familiar with Goa'uld and Ancient, Teal'c knows more about it than I do. He mentioned it while you were off with Oma. Satisfied?"
Daniel, slightly mollified, was now lost in thought. "Now I just have to wheedle it out him."
With a protracted groan, his muscled back bunching, back teeth clenched, and a grimace marring his otherwise handsome face, Jack managed to pull on his white t-shirt by himself for the first time in two days without feeling like passing out.
Janet's caveat for early release had been to assess his pain level. If he could dress himself and stay upright without pharmaceuticals, he could leave Walter Reed and back to light duty.
He'd been champing at the bit to complete his debrief and get back to Colorado to relieve General Hammond from his former post. While the old general was in the best shape of his life thanks to a better diet and exercise regime implemented by Doc Fraiser, the SGC was always a stressful place and wasn't conducive to a healthy cardiovascular system. The paperwork alone sent Jack's blood pressure soaring.
At least SG-1 was off the rotation now that Carter had been transferred to Area 51 and wasn't sending Hammond into paroxysm of worry with their frequent late check-ins and close calls with the iris. It was no coincidence that Hammond had gone from mostly bald to full-on Kojak in just a few short years. Jack was sure that if the Asgard hadn't futzed with him, his hair would already be white.
Sitting on a chair in a corner of the hospital room, Sam, in formal and uncomfortable dress blues, looked up from her laptop screen, and gave him a half-amused, half-admiring look as he struggled to don his uniform. Even in just an undershirt and black boxers that did all sort of nice things to his already impressive body, he was by far the most good-looking man she'd ever met.
For years she'd seen him in every conceivable state of dress or undress as sometimes was the case, and each and every time she'd felt an overwhelming physical attraction that rapidly grew into admiration for the man as she got to know him, and eventually coalesced into what she felt now. He was her everything and each moment spent in his presence was something she absolutely cherished. Even when he was being a complete pain in the ass.
"Remind me again why I have to wear my "butt kissing" uniform?"
Sam gave up on her laptop and closed the lid shut, to give her former CO complete and full attention. "Well sir, it wouldn't do for a Brigadier General to show up at the Pentagon in baggy BDUs for an important debriefing with several branches of the US and Russian governments."
"Oh yeah. That," he said, disgruntled. "Have I said just how much I loathe D.C.?"
"You may have mentioned it a few times in the past hour, sir, yes." Sam replied in her most indulging voice. She knew he was still in a lot pain and recuperation always made him grouchy.
She'd learned long ago that he needed to vent his frustration in some way or risk causing untold damage to property and personnel. Janet was keenly aware of this, hence the early discharge.
She rose to her full height to help him fix his tie. It was something her mom used to do for her dad, and once she was gone, Sam took over the task, enjoying the quiet moments with her father, silently admiring the rows of ribbons on his jacket. While her father had quite a lot, Jack had a few more, testifying to his outstanding service in the AF. While he might play the buffoon, one only had take a look at his Class As heavily laden with his accomplishments to dispel that particular myth.
There were very few people that Sam looked up to, both physically and intellectually. Her brain may have been out there when it came to science, maths and engineering, but Jack was the best at military strategy, the better pilot, the better leader, the best all around soldier. Out in the field, even after all the years she'd spent as his 2IC, there were days when she was filled with awe at the excellence he displayed in combat and felt extremely privileged to have served and learned from the best.
She felt incredibly proud of him. He was everything she could ever ask for and more.
Snapping out her musings, she stepped back as he pulled on his pants, neatly tucking in his shirt tails in a familiar routine borne from decades of military service. He might dislike the formal attire, but her first memories of him were in those dress blues, and he'd taken her breath away back then, and knowing intimately what lay hidden underneath them shot a frisson of desire low in her belly, still taking her breath to this very day.
He looked up from fixing his belt and encountered her heated stare. "What?" his lips quirked in the usual O'Neill smirk.
She shook her head slightly and simply pulled his head down for a deep kiss. One of his hands automatically slipped down to her left hip then slid to her skirt covered bottom to pull their lower bodies flush together, his other hand holding the side of her head to deepen the kiss even further.
The taste of him overwhelmed her. She groaned deeply as his mouth plundered hers, spikes of arousal flooding her body as she felt his growing interest harden fully against her belly as they continued to kiss. She felt Jack maneuver them towards the bed, his mouth never leaving hers, and she found herself awkwardly straddling his lap with her skirt riding high on her hip, both of his hands gripping her nylon covered skin and sliding the material of her skirt further up her legs.
She gasped as his mouth left hers and wandered down to nip and lick down the column her neck. She arched her back to give him more access, he let go of one thigh, she held her breath in anticipation as his hand wandered between her legs…
"Fuck!" Jack swore, his hand encountering more nylon, restricting his access to the promised land.
She burst out laughing at his genuinely pissed off exclamation. "Didn't plan on doing this when I put them on this morning."
"Just as well. I don't think I'm up to it yet." He sighed in frustration and rested his hand on her inner thigh.
She raised a perfectly arched brow and touched his substantial arousal straining inside his snug pants. "This begs to differ."
"You would have to do all the work, and you're not dressed for it," he grumped, fingering the silver oak leaf on her uniform jacket.
She ruffled his perpetually messy light brown hair that some men spent quite a lot of time in front of the mirror to achieve but naturally came to him; she kissed his nose before sliding off of him. Both feet on solid ground, she adjusted her skirt, noting that it survived their encounter without too many wrinkles.
"I could…" she trailed off leaving him to come up with his own conclusion.
He reached for her, pulling her close so she was standing between his spread legs, his face nuzzling high on her abdomen. "Doesn't feel as good as being inside you," he mumbled against her.
She kissed the top of his head and hugged him tight. "I miss you, it's been too long." It had been weeks since they'd been together and she ached for him. They were making the necessary sacrifice for their future together, but the reasons for their separation didn't make it any easier. It was agony.
They were no longer in the same chain of command, and technically they were free to be together, but they knew it would look extremely bad for the SGC if they flaunted their relationship so soon after Sam being reassigned. She still planned on coming back, albeit under Hammond's command, but he was still the CO of the base, and appearances were everything in the military.
While their closest friends and colleagues knew that they were together, apart from SG-1 and the doc, none knew quite the extent of their involvement. Most assumed they had mutual understanding going on and accepted it as something not to be mentioned or spoken of especially on the base.
They were both extremely grateful by the amazing people at the SGC. The men and women under Jack's command were very protective of their own, but even more so of their flagship team and their commander. The team leads made sure that everyone in their team knew the drill and to keep any speculation underwraps.
Dixon, Ferretti, Reynolds, Griff, Pierce. Those were the guys that had Jack's back. Both Dixon and Ferretti had known Jack long before the SGC and their friendships ran deep; as sexist and neanderthal as it may seem, they considered Sam O'Neill's woman. Added to that, since she was a soldier, she was inevitably included in that bond of brotherhood.
Sam knew that they didn't see her love for Jack as something weak, something to be ashamed about. She had earned their respect long before she was with her commanding officer. They knew she had earned every commendation, every promotion, with her own blood, sweat, and tears, and not on her back.
She ran her fingers through his thick hair, tilting his his head back so she could look at his face. His soft brown eyes filled with so much love and desire looked back at her, and she couldn't help but feel weak in the knees with desperate want for him. "You sure?" All he had to do was say yes and she'd be on him.
He was sorely tempted to take her up on her offer. While a certain part of him was more than ready, his ribs were still recovering and he wasn't sure he could reciprocate fully. "While extremely tempting, it has been a while," his gaze flickered to her open mouth, "and when I do come, I want it to be buried deep inside you, and only after I've made you come at least once."
She gave an involuntary gasp at his erotic description, feeling her body flood with heat. "Jack.."
Sam kissed him hard, conveying her own desires and frustration into the kiss, only letting him go once she'd ran out of precious breath, and even then, she kept her mouth hovering just over his, gasping in the same air, their foreheads pressed against each other, eyes closed.
As per his usual, Daniel was running late and had called Sam to tell her that he'd meet them outside the Pentagon. Of course, Daniel being Daniel, he'd neglected to check exactly which entrance to meet them at, having entered through the Potomac river entrance on a previous visit with Paul Davis who had a DoD building pass - and was even later than he'd stated.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he said the moment he spotted his friends standing around the Pentagon Transit Center both immaculately dressed in their Class As, while he struggled with his laptop bag and tie. Even with his service cap and glasses, Daniel could tell Jack had gone past impatient and straight to annoyed.
"Oh, take your time, Daniel, it's only the Joint Chiefs, the GRU, the CIA…" Jack muttered under his breath.
"I said I was sorry!" Daniel interrupted Jack's sarcastic grousing. "It's not like they can start the meeting without us."
Sam shot a glare at him and he had enough common sense to look contrite as they joined the security line, Common Access Cards (CAC) at the ready.
Because of Daniel's tardiness, the main entrance was already packed with tourists. The DoD CAC only permitted them unfettered access to specific buildings, the Pentagon not being one of them, much to Sam and Jack's annoyance. Sam's old pass had been revoked after her transfer to the SGC then to Area 51 (both much more secure than the Pentagon), and she rankled at the indignity of having to go through the main entrance in order to obtain a visitor pass from the DPS and verify that they didn't need an escort.
Sam's phone beeped as they progressed in the line. She read the message and sighed before powering down the device. "That was Paul. He says he'll try to delay the meeting as long as possible, but they may run out of donuts by the time we get there," she grinned at the end.
"I'm swear, Daniel. If Jumper's eaten all the crullers…" Jack gritted out.
Daniel rolled his eyes behind his glasses and tried to ignore Jack's little outbursts by glancing around him. He usually liked to people watch when stuck in tedious situations like long queues, and discovered oddly that the stares were being directed at his general direction. He shifted uncomfortably and frowned at the frequent glances from people in front and behind them.
He soon figured out that the inquisitive looks weren't aimed at him, but at his uniformed, high ranking companions. Even with all the uniforms abounding in the vicinity, Sam and Jack still drew admiring stares, probably for being both so damned attractive. The fading bruises on Jack's face drew even more curious looks, making him look even more dangerous.
Janet once commented that if the Air Force wanted to run a successful recruitment campaign, they merely needed to parade O'Neill and Carter around to get the numbers.
He wasn't blind, he knew his friends were exceptionally gifted in both intelligence and appearance. If he had any ego about him or a low self-esteem, the might resent the two for clearly winning the genetic lottery, but having seen them at their worst, grounded his view of Carter and O'Neill. It also helped that Sam and Jack weren't particularly concerned about their physical appearances.
Daniel cleared his throat when a gaggle of teenage girls in a school trip behind him started to giggle and sneak covert glances at Jack who'd taken off his cap and started to mess with his stubborn hair. The light brown strands stuck up in different directions making him look a lot younger than a general in the USAF had any right to look.
Jack, of course, seemed oblivious to the attention. He was too busy fiddling with restless energy, hating the wait he felt he had to endure because of Daniel's serial lateness. Daniel counted the number of times Jack had checked his watch - every thirty seconds.
Once they finally reached the head of the line, the three presented their CACs to the guard and were able to enter the building without an escort once their identities were verified over the horn by none other than the Air Force Chief of Staff himself, who was eager to get the meeting started. It was amazing how quickly a security point could open once they realized they were on the phone with a four star.
They hot footed it with Sam in the lead, from the outer E ring to the inner B ring until they were between corridors 8 and 9, the Air Force offices at the Pentagon. They swiped their RFID visitor cards through the security doors and joined the meeting just as the group was sitting down.
Jack immediately identified Orlov sitting with the rest of the Spetsnaz/GRU contingent. The Colonel grinned at him in acknowledgement and toasted him with his coffee and half-eaten donut.
He also noticed, of all people, sitting with the rest of the CIA officers, a less scruffy and suit wearing Burke. It was a far cry from the last time he'd seen him in Central America. It seemed that the good word Jack had put in for Burke, asking for a plusher assignment and temperate weather where women put out like broken candy machines, had landed him in Langley.
The CIA and GRU were the ones in charge of the briefing. HWS had already taken their statements and reports were being written for Hammond and his team at the Pentagon.
The Air Force officers were seated together, with General Jumper next to Colonel Davis and General Francis Maynard, the Army Chief of Staff. Sam and Jack tended to sit together on most briefings these days, so Daniel was forced to sit in the only remaining seat next to a pretty female spook with curly auburn hair.
Daniel and Paul were the first ones to be questioned. Jack had instructed them beforehand to be completely honest and forthright with their reports, even the gory details of how they got rid of the Trust agents that held Cassie and Brian hostage.
Jack had remained impassive as both men recounted the details of their time in Russia, his gaze trained on the laptop Sam had placed in front of him. But Sam could tell he was tense by his balled up fists hidden under the table an inch next to her thigh.
When it was Orlov's turn to speak, Jack tensed even further as the Colonel recounted the hours Jack had spent being interrogated by Kiselev's men and the beatings they'd inflicted.
Jack had glossed over a lot of the details, which was typical of him. When it came to his own well being, he was less than forthcoming.
The blow by blow details, no pun intended, given by Orlov had some of the seasoned Spetsnaz and CIA operatives knitting their brows.
Sam had to bite her lip and keep her hands clenched tightly at her side to prevent herself from breaking protocol and gathering the man next to her into her arms. She'd seen his injuries, heard it directly from Cassie, but she'd had no idea the kind of brutality that had delivered them.
How Jack was able to lead an incursion against the Trust hours after being beaten so severely seemed impossible. In fact, she knew for a fact that it was impossible. For a normal human being.
Once Orlov was finished, a few of those gathered around the table shot Jack sympathetic or respectful looks, but he ignored them and begun his own report that concisely echoed the rest of the men's.
"General, was Hoskins the highest ranking member of the Trust you observed?" Kerry Johnson, CIA analyst and new liaison officer for HWS questioned O'Neill.
"That was the name given to us during my interrogation of the hostile back at the datcha."
She'd been one of the few who hadn't given Jack pitying looks, probably because she knew a bit more of his past history with the Company and figured his latest scuffle with the Russians was small potatoes compared to previous SNAFUs he'd encountered early on in his career during his occasional, but illustrious joint ops with the Agency.
It always amused him how case officers out in the field were credited with all sorts of covert shit, when most of the time all they did was gather intelligence from the Clandestine Service division and stove piped all that intel back to the farm for analysts to pore over. It was usually guys like him working alongside the paramilitary division of the Company that did all the dirty work.
She raised her eyebrows at the next question. "You didn't think to detain him for further questioning?"
"I determined at the time that he wouldn't yield further intel from what he'd already provided," he replied steadily.
He caught Burke at the edge of his periphery, covering up a huge grin.
"And Hoskins?" she persisted.
"The situation was deemed too volatile to extract any of the hostiles for interrogation. As Doctor Jackson said, he had no choice but to terminate him at the time."
He saw Daniel squirm in his seat at the mention of his life-saving action.
"Right," Johnson nodded accepting his explanation. "That's it for us." She looked around the room, at the GRU officers and back to her own fellow analysts to confirm.
She smiled lightly at Jack in thanks. "I think we all look forward to reading your written reports once they're available," she said, implying that HWS might not be so quick to deliver them to an outside department, regardless of how well meaning, due mostly to past actions of the NID who'd been deliberately excluded from the meeting.
They all rose for the dismissal and Burke was suddenly at his side, no longer hiding his laughing mug. "Good to see you buddy!" He thumped Jack hard in the back in greeting.
Jack hissed, grimacing in pain. Sam immediately shot him a concerned look as she gathered their laptops and notes together.
"Ah, shit! Sorry bud," Burke apologized, but continued to smile. "Still tender, huh?"
"I see you're coming up in the world," Jack remarked, ignoring the question about the status of his health.
Burke shrugged. "After you put in a good word, they figured I saw some messed up shit I wasn't supposed to and pulled me off the field. Got assigned to her," he motioned to Kerry Johnson. "Not used to working for a chick, but she's alright," he leaned closer to Jack, "A real looker too," he finished with a wink. "I could put in a good word…" he quietly suggested, as a quid pro quo.
Jack rolled his eyes at Burke's inappropriate comments, keenly aware of Carter's presence.
"Man, when I read what you and Jackson were actually involved in, it blew my mind!" Burke continued on another thread. "But not as much as hearing you actually making General! I mean, man, no way would your insubordinate ass ever serve behind a desk, no way!"
"Ah well, we all have to make sacrifices sometimes. You know all about that," he said uncomfortably. He glanced briefly at Carter who was putting way too much care in storing their bits and pieces.
Daniel saved him from further reply. He politely interrupted and shook hands with Burke before turning to Jack. "General Jumper has made lunch arrangements for us," Daniel informed him.
"Guess that's my cue to skedaddle," Burke nodded at Daniel. "Jackson."
"Always interesting meeting old friends of yours, Jack," Daniel remarked glancing at Colonel Orlov who was busy conferring with his own team in muted Russian.
"At least you've had the pleasure, Daniel," Sam smiled tightly at the two men.
Jack grimaced once more, this time from Carter's pointed look. He raised his eyebrows, then shrugged silently at her. It wasn't the place for that line of conversation.
"Shall we?" he asked, herding his team out the door when he saw Jumper signal them to follow.
Jack briefly paused in his step to close his eyes and let out a quiet sigh. The day had started so well…
NOTE: I've never been to D.C. (must rectify that!) or Walter Reed and strangely enough, they don't allow pictures inside the Pentagon, so there's bound to be loads of inaccuracies in this chapter. I tried, really!
I'm tidying up loose ends of the Russian story arc, but also establishing canon characters into the story (Kerry and Burke). I actually liked Kerry in Threads. I think she's a pretty decent person (knew exactly when to step back, giving Jack sound advice) and she has wonderful taste in men. ;-) Could you really blame her for tapping Jack?