A/N: Jack's thoughts are in //these// and the weird bit that might not make much
sense? It's explained at the end. Look for the asterisk. It might have taken me
awhile to update, but at least it's a decent length!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Imbroglio
Chapter 6
Jack blinked as he took in the implausible scene before him.
Step one: Assessment. "Danny, do *not* shit me here, ok?" Jack said eyeing the
growing crimson stain saturating Daniel's black t-shirt. "Are you on death's door, or
do I have a few minutes?"
"I'll be fine Jack." Daniel said applying further pressure on the messy hole beneath
his ribs and panting slightly through the pain. He eyed Jack through half-closed
eyes; clearly, Jack didn't believe him. Daniel shook his head in frustration. "Jack,
I'm serious." He said trying to ignore the warm stickiness beneath his hands. "It
hurts a bit but I'll be fine."
Jack's hard eyes continued to stare calculatedly at the inert scientist; Daniel rolled
his eyes. "God Jack, you are so stubborn! It hurts like a mother, ok? But I honestly
don't think it's fatal- so would you just get on to saving our asses?" Yelling at Jack
didn't help the pain, but it did seem to do the trick.
Satisfied, Jack moved his eyes onto the second person in the backseat; Major
Samantha Carter, or Jolinar as she preferred to be called at the moment. She stood
crouched on her feet glaring hard at both Daniel and Jack, a bloody nail file held
tightly in her clenched fingers. Jack grimaced.
Step two: Take control of the situation. Before Sam could even comprehend what
was happening, Jack reached out and snatched the nail file from her. He tossed the
offensive object into the front seat and quickly positioned himself between Sam and
the injured Daniel. Surprisingly Jack wedged himself into the backseat with very
little fuss. When one didn't need to worry about hitting the driver in the head, it
really was quite simple. A bit cramped perhaps, but simple.
Jack was very much aware that at any moment the cop would probably come
knocking on the window. He needed to wrap things up. Quickly. Placing both hands
firmly on her shoulders, Jack forced Sam into a more conventional seated position
and quickly covered her legs with one knee.
"Stabbing Daniel was *not* a nice thing to do!" Jack hissed as he stared into the
wild unrecognizable eyes of his 2IC. The woman struggled beneath him, but was no
match for a pissed off and much larger Jack O'Neill.
"So here's what I am going to do JOLINAR." Jack saw a flinty flash of recognition as
he said her name. "I'm going to move Daniel here to the front seat and you are
going to stay quiet as a mouse here in the back seat like a good little Tok'ra." Again
he saw a semblance of understanding. He nodded briefly and started to let up on
the pressure of his knee. Instantly Sam attempted to squirm free. Jack again
applied pressure, harder this time and leaned forward to whisper something into her
ear.
"Mek'sur rak, shel nak tor." He said clearly and without emotion into her left ear. He
leaned back and saw the complete comprehension and masked fear on her face.
"Good!" He said as he patted her on both shoulders and withdrew the pressure
slowly across her legs. Sam stayed perfectly still. Satisfied, Jack lifted his knee
from her body and turned to take care of Daniel.
Now it was Daniel's turn to stare incomprehensively at Jack.
There was no way. There was just no way Jack had said what Daniel though he had
heard.
"Jack do you have any idea of what you just said?" Daniel said as he gritted his
teeth against the pain. Jack had awkwardly pulled the lever that allowed the front
driver's seat to collapse and was attempting to manhandle Daniel into the front seat.
"Yep." Jack said with a grunt doing all the work himself. Daniel wasn't much help at
the moment.
"But...but.. how? Why?" Daniel said closing his eyes and clenching his teeth tightly
against the pain. The wound itself might be slightly above superficial, but it still
hurt. A lot.
"Teal'c taught me a few choice phrases that he thought might come in handy down
the road." Jack said simply as he carefully set Daniel's butt down in the front seat
and being ever mindful of the stomach injury, cautiously moved his legs over to join
his body.
"*Teal'c* thought it would be good to teach you 'Move again and I will kill you' in
Goa'uld?!"
"The exact phrasing might have been my idea." Jack admitted as he quickly folded
himself back into the driver's seat. He glanced over and was not pleased to see how
completely white Daniel had become. Shock. Damn.
The bottom of Daniel's t-shirt was obviously completely soaked in blood- Jack
needed to get him something more to stem the flow. He glanced down at his single
black t-shirt, leather jacket and jeans and quickly surmised that it would probably be
best if he remained dressed when approached by Colorado Springs' finest. A quick
glance at the backseat nicked the idea of getting something from Sam. She had on
a lightweight sweater thingy and Jack had no idea if there was anything underneath
it. Having a pissed off Tok'ra mad at him was one thing, having a partially naked
pissed off Tok'ra who happened to be his 2IC just wasn't a good idea. Which left
Daniel.
Daniel sat quietly in the front seat, obvious pain etched across his face. He wore the
ubiquitous SGC black t-shirt as a base layer but had thrown on a thick button down
flannel shirt over it.
"Can you sit up a little Daniel?" Jack asked quietly as he reached into his back
pocket for his ever-present Swiss army knife. He might be able (and required to)
leave his P90 on base, but he *never* went anywhere without that knife.
"Uh sure." Daniel said attempting to comply without opening his eyes.
Unfortunately it is very difficult to move one's torso without utilizing the stomach
muscles. Daniel moved only a few scant inches before overwhelming pain forced
him to fall back heavily against the seat. Tears glistened on the edges of his eyes
and Daniel wondered if perhaps passing out might be a good option.
"Here Danny, let me help." Jack said hating to see his friend hurting so much. He
carefully lifted the Archaeologist forward a half a foot or so and baring Daniel's
weight with his left hand, quickly sliced through the length of the shirt and pulled it
away from Daniel's body. Jack removed the material over Daniel's shoulder and
pulled 1/2 the flannel shirt completely away. Hastily he bunched it together and after
moving Daniel's hands away, pressed it firmly against the jagged wound. Daniel
moaned loudly as his body arched upwards in an attempt to escape from the
offending pressure.
"Sorry Daniel!" Jack said hating the fact that he was causing his friend so much
pain. At least in the field they usually had vials of morphine to help. Jack replaced
his hands with Daniel's own and laid a calming hand against Daniel's forehead. It
hadn't even been five minutes and already Daniel felt warm. Jack made a note to
talk to Carter about the cleanliness of her nail files.
"Daniel, I need you to put on an Oscar worthy performance here." Jack said as he
caught sight of the police officer finally making his way towards the car. What could
possibly have taken him so long to check a license plate was beyond him, but for
once Jack was very, very grateful for the delay. He quickly looked around the car
and was glad (and more than a little surprised) to see that very little of Daniel's
blood was apparent on the dark vinyl seats. //This really might work.// Jack thought
to himself.
As Jack began to roll down his window he suddenly caught sight of his hands- his still
damp, red-streaked hands. Jack let out a short mirthless laugh. "Or maybe not."
Covered in Daniel's blood, there was no way the officer wouldn't notice. Jack let out
a small frustrated sigh. //On to Plan B.//
"License and reg.." The officer began on autopilot before spying Jack's blood-
encrusted hangs. "Holy shit!" Instantly the police officer reached for his weapon.
"Hands up where I can see them and step out of the car!" The officer shouted at
Jack as he peered into the window. Eyeing an unmoving man in the front seat, and
a pissed off looking woman in the back seat, Jim, the rookie police officer, cursed the
budget cuts that prevented him from having a partner. It wasn't every day you pull
a guy over for speeding and stumble upon a possible homicide. Jim's mind was
racing as he tried to remember everything that was taught to him at the academy.
"It isn't what you think Officer." Jack said calmly as he slowly stepped out of the
car. The police officer couldn't be older than 25 and looked like he just might shoot
if Jack made any sudden moves. Jack wouldn't lay money on him shooting straight
either.
"You have the right to remain silent..."
"I waive my rights." Jack said impatiently as he made a small motion with his
upraised hands. He really didn't need this right now; both Sam and Daniel needed
help.
"Keep your hands still!" Jim shouted waiving his gun unsteadily at Jack. //Great.
This is just perfect! If I don't watch it, *I'm* going to wind up as messed up as
Carter and Daniel!//
"Look Officer," Jack began as he slowly turned around to face the obviously
distraught young man. "I am going to slowly reach into my jacket and pull out my
ID, ok?"
"Hands where I can see them!" Officer Jim shouted again. Why wasn't the guy
listening to him?!
"My name is Jack O'Neill. *Colonel* Jack O'Neill and I work out of Cheyenne
Mountain just a few miles down the road." As Jack was saying this he continued to
reach into his jacket and was able to pull out his wallet. He held it out to the Officer.
"The guy in the front seat is Dr. Daniel Jackson, a linguist and good friend who works
with me on base. And the woman in the back seat is Major Samantha Carter my
2IC."
"He's telling the truth." A faint voice said from within the car. With an audible moan
a billfold came sailing through the open window. "My ID." Although the nail file
hadn't penetrated any vital organs, the wound was still rather deep.
"Sir, are you all right?" Jim said taking a step closer to the car and momentarily
taking his eyes off of Jack. Jack refrained from rolling his eyes; he could *so* take
this guy out.
"Officer, do I *look* all right to you?" Daniel gasped peevishly struggling to stay
conscious. Jack's sarcasm was definitely contagious.
"No Sir, you most definitely don't." Jim said as he bent down to pick up Daniel's
wallet.
//Oh for crying out loud, can we just get ON with it?!// Jack thought to himself.
"Look Officer," Jack glanced down at the man's name badge, "Simpson." A small
smile threatened to escape Jack's lips but he managed to hold it back. "I won't
move a muscle, but would ya please just look at Daniel's ID, then look at mine and
then let us be on our way? As you can see, my friend in there needs some help."
Without waiting to hear Officer Jim Simpson's response, Jack threw his wallet at the
stunned officer who caught it by reflex.
"You promise not to move?" Jim asked in a mostly steady voice as he continued to
point his weapon at the Colonel.
"Scouts honor." Jack was getting impatient and was wondering just what
Sam/Jolinar was thinking of this whole exchange. With a hell of a lot of luck, his
whispered threat would keep her ass pinned to the backseat until they got back to
the SGC.
Jim opened Daniel's wallet first and took out first his license and then an obvious
military looking ID card. There, imprinted on the card, were the words, 'Dr. Daniel
Jackson' and a picture of a shaggy-haired geeky looking guy in an outdated tweed
jacket. Underneath his name and picture were a bunch of letters and numbers:
USAF-CIV, SGC-SG1, 0-. Security Level: C. Jim turned the card over and read
scrawled in permanent marker, 'If owner is found dead or unconscious, please return
to Col. Jack O'Neill."
Jim shook his head confused as he stuffed the card back and opened the second
wallet. Jack's wallet contained his official USAF ID card as well as the SGC issued ID.
There were a lot more numbers and letters on Jack's ID card. A very serious looking
photo of Jack appeared on his SGC card along with the words 'Colonel Jack O'Neill'.
Under his name and photo were more letter/number combinations. USAF, SGC-21C,
SG1-COM, O+, Security Level: A. Curiosity made him turn the card over. 'I love
Thor.' Jim crinkled his eyebrows as he read that. What kind of people were these
guys?
Jack recognized the look of confusion and realized what Officer Simpson //No smiling
Jack.// must be reading. Jack had known even as he wrote the little 'lost' message
on Daniel's ID card that it probably wasn't the best of ideas. But Daniel had just
turned up from the dead (again!) and Jack couldn't help himself. Now Daniel on the
other hand... Daniel hadn't even been drunk when he had written that little ditty on
the back of Jack's card. Jack actually had gotten a new ID a few weeks thereafter
but kept that Sharpee-penned version as a memento. A memento he really
shouldn't haul around in his wallet... Jack shook his head and wished Officer
Simpson //NO smiling Jack.// would get on with it.
Just as Jim had made up his mind to let the Colonel and his wounded friend go, (he
planned on following them) the sudden sound of a car door opening caught his
attention.
Jack heard it too and turned his head just in time to see the back door open and one
Major Samantha Carter, aka Jolinar, stumble out.
"Ah crap." Jack muttered as instinct took control and he flung himself across the
hood of the car and attempted to stop Carter before she could get too far.
"What the HELL do you think you're doing?!" Jim yelled as he took in the sight of the
nimble Colonel sliding across the top of a car like he was **Bo or Luke Duke.
Jack ignored him and concentrated on Sam. If she bolted, he would have to go after
her and there was a fairly good chance one of them might get shot. Not really an
ideal situation.
"Did you forget what I said?" Jack said in dangerously low tones as he faced the
weary woman. Although Sam might not be driving at the moment, Jolinar obviously
understood, her eyes grew wide and she clenched her fists tightly together. She
swayed slightly on her feet and her face contorted in a mask of anger and pain.
"Sholv'ak tel!"
"Not nice." Daniel whispered weakly from the open car window. "She's not happy
with you Jack."
"Tell me something I don't know Daniel." Jack retorted as he took another step
closer.
"I think I'm going to pass out." Daniel said in a whisper as his entire body went
slack and he sank into unconsciousness.
"God dammit! This isn't my day!!" Jack groused as he closed the gap between he
and Carter and gripped Sam's elbow tightly. It was time to end this.
"Sir, you need to stop this immediately!" Jim shouted as he contemplated if it was
better to stay where he was and keep an eye on the crazy Air Force officer, or if he
should head back to his rig and call for backup.
"You're right. It is." Jack knew he needed to get both Sam and Daniel medical
attention, but also knew he wouldn't get too far if he had to fight Carter the entire
way. Hell, Officer Simpson just might do something rash if he thought Jack was
roughing up a woman. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Jack made up his mind. He
just couldn't risk Carter babbling in an Alien language or have her unwittingly dish
out top-secret Stargate information; he needed Sam quiet. And although Janet
might skin him alive later, Jack knew what needed to be done. He leaned back on
his left leg with every intention of throwing a right hook into the side of his 2IC's
head. He knew how to throw a punch and planned to hit Sam on the right side of
her skull and not the left; that wouldn't be too bad, right? //You keep telling
yourself that Jack.//
But just as he reached back to build momentum for his punch, Sam began to sway.
Jack barely had time to catch her before she slumped bonelessly to the ground
deeply unconscious.
"Tor, buddy. This would be a great time to pop on by for a visit." Jack mumbled as
he carefully picked Sam up and positioned her into the backseat of the car. Behind
him he could hear the officer cursing.
"What the hell did you do to her?!" Jim shouted questioning his decision to keep his
gun pointed at the crazy Colonel; he should have gone for the radio.
Shutting the back door, Jack reached through the passenger window and placed two
fingers against Daniel's neck. He breathed a small sigh of relief; Daniel was doing
just fine. Well maybe not *fine* fine, but he would live. He squinted at the irate
Officer and walked around towards the driver's door.
"Jim," Jack paused. "Can I call you Jim?" Receiving only flabbergasted silence, Jack
continued. "My friends are obviously ill and I am going to take them to where they'll
get the help they need. You know as well as I do that this road only leads to
Cheyenne Mountain, so you are welcome to follow me, but I'm going to be leaving
now." Calmly Jack got into his car and turned on the ignition.
Through his rolled down window Jack called out to the still stunned Officer. "I really
am a good guy Jim. Go ahead and send me that speeding ticket, I'm sure I was
going at least 50."
With that Colonel Jack O'Neill pulled out from the shoulder of the road and headed
(at a sedate 35 mph) towards the SGC. Absently rubbing his temple at the growing
tension headache, Jack wryly thought of the ways Dr. Janet Fraiser would get him
back. An innocent house viewing, and what happens? Jack checks out one patient
from the infirmary and returns with two.
It was not his day.
A/n- It might have taken me a few weeks, but at least it's decent length, yes?
Things get a little twisted in the next chapter. G Let me know if you're still
enjoying. You *know* feedback makes me write faster!
**The Duke brothers. Bo and Luke. From the Dukes of Hazzard, another really
hideous television show from America in the 70's. It was brilliant.
sense? It's explained at the end. Look for the asterisk. It might have taken me
awhile to update, but at least it's a decent length!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Imbroglio
Chapter 6
Jack blinked as he took in the implausible scene before him.
Step one: Assessment. "Danny, do *not* shit me here, ok?" Jack said eyeing the
growing crimson stain saturating Daniel's black t-shirt. "Are you on death's door, or
do I have a few minutes?"
"I'll be fine Jack." Daniel said applying further pressure on the messy hole beneath
his ribs and panting slightly through the pain. He eyed Jack through half-closed
eyes; clearly, Jack didn't believe him. Daniel shook his head in frustration. "Jack,
I'm serious." He said trying to ignore the warm stickiness beneath his hands. "It
hurts a bit but I'll be fine."
Jack's hard eyes continued to stare calculatedly at the inert scientist; Daniel rolled
his eyes. "God Jack, you are so stubborn! It hurts like a mother, ok? But I honestly
don't think it's fatal- so would you just get on to saving our asses?" Yelling at Jack
didn't help the pain, but it did seem to do the trick.
Satisfied, Jack moved his eyes onto the second person in the backseat; Major
Samantha Carter, or Jolinar as she preferred to be called at the moment. She stood
crouched on her feet glaring hard at both Daniel and Jack, a bloody nail file held
tightly in her clenched fingers. Jack grimaced.
Step two: Take control of the situation. Before Sam could even comprehend what
was happening, Jack reached out and snatched the nail file from her. He tossed the
offensive object into the front seat and quickly positioned himself between Sam and
the injured Daniel. Surprisingly Jack wedged himself into the backseat with very
little fuss. When one didn't need to worry about hitting the driver in the head, it
really was quite simple. A bit cramped perhaps, but simple.
Jack was very much aware that at any moment the cop would probably come
knocking on the window. He needed to wrap things up. Quickly. Placing both hands
firmly on her shoulders, Jack forced Sam into a more conventional seated position
and quickly covered her legs with one knee.
"Stabbing Daniel was *not* a nice thing to do!" Jack hissed as he stared into the
wild unrecognizable eyes of his 2IC. The woman struggled beneath him, but was no
match for a pissed off and much larger Jack O'Neill.
"So here's what I am going to do JOLINAR." Jack saw a flinty flash of recognition as
he said her name. "I'm going to move Daniel here to the front seat and you are
going to stay quiet as a mouse here in the back seat like a good little Tok'ra." Again
he saw a semblance of understanding. He nodded briefly and started to let up on
the pressure of his knee. Instantly Sam attempted to squirm free. Jack again
applied pressure, harder this time and leaned forward to whisper something into her
ear.
"Mek'sur rak, shel nak tor." He said clearly and without emotion into her left ear. He
leaned back and saw the complete comprehension and masked fear on her face.
"Good!" He said as he patted her on both shoulders and withdrew the pressure
slowly across her legs. Sam stayed perfectly still. Satisfied, Jack lifted his knee
from her body and turned to take care of Daniel.
Now it was Daniel's turn to stare incomprehensively at Jack.
There was no way. There was just no way Jack had said what Daniel though he had
heard.
"Jack do you have any idea of what you just said?" Daniel said as he gritted his
teeth against the pain. Jack had awkwardly pulled the lever that allowed the front
driver's seat to collapse and was attempting to manhandle Daniel into the front seat.
"Yep." Jack said with a grunt doing all the work himself. Daniel wasn't much help at
the moment.
"But...but.. how? Why?" Daniel said closing his eyes and clenching his teeth tightly
against the pain. The wound itself might be slightly above superficial, but it still
hurt. A lot.
"Teal'c taught me a few choice phrases that he thought might come in handy down
the road." Jack said simply as he carefully set Daniel's butt down in the front seat
and being ever mindful of the stomach injury, cautiously moved his legs over to join
his body.
"*Teal'c* thought it would be good to teach you 'Move again and I will kill you' in
Goa'uld?!"
"The exact phrasing might have been my idea." Jack admitted as he quickly folded
himself back into the driver's seat. He glanced over and was not pleased to see how
completely white Daniel had become. Shock. Damn.
The bottom of Daniel's t-shirt was obviously completely soaked in blood- Jack
needed to get him something more to stem the flow. He glanced down at his single
black t-shirt, leather jacket and jeans and quickly surmised that it would probably be
best if he remained dressed when approached by Colorado Springs' finest. A quick
glance at the backseat nicked the idea of getting something from Sam. She had on
a lightweight sweater thingy and Jack had no idea if there was anything underneath
it. Having a pissed off Tok'ra mad at him was one thing, having a partially naked
pissed off Tok'ra who happened to be his 2IC just wasn't a good idea. Which left
Daniel.
Daniel sat quietly in the front seat, obvious pain etched across his face. He wore the
ubiquitous SGC black t-shirt as a base layer but had thrown on a thick button down
flannel shirt over it.
"Can you sit up a little Daniel?" Jack asked quietly as he reached into his back
pocket for his ever-present Swiss army knife. He might be able (and required to)
leave his P90 on base, but he *never* went anywhere without that knife.
"Uh sure." Daniel said attempting to comply without opening his eyes.
Unfortunately it is very difficult to move one's torso without utilizing the stomach
muscles. Daniel moved only a few scant inches before overwhelming pain forced
him to fall back heavily against the seat. Tears glistened on the edges of his eyes
and Daniel wondered if perhaps passing out might be a good option.
"Here Danny, let me help." Jack said hating to see his friend hurting so much. He
carefully lifted the Archaeologist forward a half a foot or so and baring Daniel's
weight with his left hand, quickly sliced through the length of the shirt and pulled it
away from Daniel's body. Jack removed the material over Daniel's shoulder and
pulled 1/2 the flannel shirt completely away. Hastily he bunched it together and after
moving Daniel's hands away, pressed it firmly against the jagged wound. Daniel
moaned loudly as his body arched upwards in an attempt to escape from the
offending pressure.
"Sorry Daniel!" Jack said hating the fact that he was causing his friend so much
pain. At least in the field they usually had vials of morphine to help. Jack replaced
his hands with Daniel's own and laid a calming hand against Daniel's forehead. It
hadn't even been five minutes and already Daniel felt warm. Jack made a note to
talk to Carter about the cleanliness of her nail files.
"Daniel, I need you to put on an Oscar worthy performance here." Jack said as he
caught sight of the police officer finally making his way towards the car. What could
possibly have taken him so long to check a license plate was beyond him, but for
once Jack was very, very grateful for the delay. He quickly looked around the car
and was glad (and more than a little surprised) to see that very little of Daniel's
blood was apparent on the dark vinyl seats. //This really might work.// Jack thought
to himself.
As Jack began to roll down his window he suddenly caught sight of his hands- his still
damp, red-streaked hands. Jack let out a short mirthless laugh. "Or maybe not."
Covered in Daniel's blood, there was no way the officer wouldn't notice. Jack let out
a small frustrated sigh. //On to Plan B.//
"License and reg.." The officer began on autopilot before spying Jack's blood-
encrusted hangs. "Holy shit!" Instantly the police officer reached for his weapon.
"Hands up where I can see them and step out of the car!" The officer shouted at
Jack as he peered into the window. Eyeing an unmoving man in the front seat, and
a pissed off looking woman in the back seat, Jim, the rookie police officer, cursed the
budget cuts that prevented him from having a partner. It wasn't every day you pull
a guy over for speeding and stumble upon a possible homicide. Jim's mind was
racing as he tried to remember everything that was taught to him at the academy.
"It isn't what you think Officer." Jack said calmly as he slowly stepped out of the
car. The police officer couldn't be older than 25 and looked like he just might shoot
if Jack made any sudden moves. Jack wouldn't lay money on him shooting straight
either.
"You have the right to remain silent..."
"I waive my rights." Jack said impatiently as he made a small motion with his
upraised hands. He really didn't need this right now; both Sam and Daniel needed
help.
"Keep your hands still!" Jim shouted waiving his gun unsteadily at Jack. //Great.
This is just perfect! If I don't watch it, *I'm* going to wind up as messed up as
Carter and Daniel!//
"Look Officer," Jack began as he slowly turned around to face the obviously
distraught young man. "I am going to slowly reach into my jacket and pull out my
ID, ok?"
"Hands where I can see them!" Officer Jim shouted again. Why wasn't the guy
listening to him?!
"My name is Jack O'Neill. *Colonel* Jack O'Neill and I work out of Cheyenne
Mountain just a few miles down the road." As Jack was saying this he continued to
reach into his jacket and was able to pull out his wallet. He held it out to the Officer.
"The guy in the front seat is Dr. Daniel Jackson, a linguist and good friend who works
with me on base. And the woman in the back seat is Major Samantha Carter my
2IC."
"He's telling the truth." A faint voice said from within the car. With an audible moan
a billfold came sailing through the open window. "My ID." Although the nail file
hadn't penetrated any vital organs, the wound was still rather deep.
"Sir, are you all right?" Jim said taking a step closer to the car and momentarily
taking his eyes off of Jack. Jack refrained from rolling his eyes; he could *so* take
this guy out.
"Officer, do I *look* all right to you?" Daniel gasped peevishly struggling to stay
conscious. Jack's sarcasm was definitely contagious.
"No Sir, you most definitely don't." Jim said as he bent down to pick up Daniel's
wallet.
//Oh for crying out loud, can we just get ON with it?!// Jack thought to himself.
"Look Officer," Jack glanced down at the man's name badge, "Simpson." A small
smile threatened to escape Jack's lips but he managed to hold it back. "I won't
move a muscle, but would ya please just look at Daniel's ID, then look at mine and
then let us be on our way? As you can see, my friend in there needs some help."
Without waiting to hear Officer Jim Simpson's response, Jack threw his wallet at the
stunned officer who caught it by reflex.
"You promise not to move?" Jim asked in a mostly steady voice as he continued to
point his weapon at the Colonel.
"Scouts honor." Jack was getting impatient and was wondering just what
Sam/Jolinar was thinking of this whole exchange. With a hell of a lot of luck, his
whispered threat would keep her ass pinned to the backseat until they got back to
the SGC.
Jim opened Daniel's wallet first and took out first his license and then an obvious
military looking ID card. There, imprinted on the card, were the words, 'Dr. Daniel
Jackson' and a picture of a shaggy-haired geeky looking guy in an outdated tweed
jacket. Underneath his name and picture were a bunch of letters and numbers:
USAF-CIV, SGC-SG1, 0-. Security Level: C. Jim turned the card over and read
scrawled in permanent marker, 'If owner is found dead or unconscious, please return
to Col. Jack O'Neill."
Jim shook his head confused as he stuffed the card back and opened the second
wallet. Jack's wallet contained his official USAF ID card as well as the SGC issued ID.
There were a lot more numbers and letters on Jack's ID card. A very serious looking
photo of Jack appeared on his SGC card along with the words 'Colonel Jack O'Neill'.
Under his name and photo were more letter/number combinations. USAF, SGC-21C,
SG1-COM, O+, Security Level: A. Curiosity made him turn the card over. 'I love
Thor.' Jim crinkled his eyebrows as he read that. What kind of people were these
guys?
Jack recognized the look of confusion and realized what Officer Simpson //No smiling
Jack.// must be reading. Jack had known even as he wrote the little 'lost' message
on Daniel's ID card that it probably wasn't the best of ideas. But Daniel had just
turned up from the dead (again!) and Jack couldn't help himself. Now Daniel on the
other hand... Daniel hadn't even been drunk when he had written that little ditty on
the back of Jack's card. Jack actually had gotten a new ID a few weeks thereafter
but kept that Sharpee-penned version as a memento. A memento he really
shouldn't haul around in his wallet... Jack shook his head and wished Officer
Simpson //NO smiling Jack.// would get on with it.
Just as Jim had made up his mind to let the Colonel and his wounded friend go, (he
planned on following them) the sudden sound of a car door opening caught his
attention.
Jack heard it too and turned his head just in time to see the back door open and one
Major Samantha Carter, aka Jolinar, stumble out.
"Ah crap." Jack muttered as instinct took control and he flung himself across the
hood of the car and attempted to stop Carter before she could get too far.
"What the HELL do you think you're doing?!" Jim yelled as he took in the sight of the
nimble Colonel sliding across the top of a car like he was **Bo or Luke Duke.
Jack ignored him and concentrated on Sam. If she bolted, he would have to go after
her and there was a fairly good chance one of them might get shot. Not really an
ideal situation.
"Did you forget what I said?" Jack said in dangerously low tones as he faced the
weary woman. Although Sam might not be driving at the moment, Jolinar obviously
understood, her eyes grew wide and she clenched her fists tightly together. She
swayed slightly on her feet and her face contorted in a mask of anger and pain.
"Sholv'ak tel!"
"Not nice." Daniel whispered weakly from the open car window. "She's not happy
with you Jack."
"Tell me something I don't know Daniel." Jack retorted as he took another step
closer.
"I think I'm going to pass out." Daniel said in a whisper as his entire body went
slack and he sank into unconsciousness.
"God dammit! This isn't my day!!" Jack groused as he closed the gap between he
and Carter and gripped Sam's elbow tightly. It was time to end this.
"Sir, you need to stop this immediately!" Jim shouted as he contemplated if it was
better to stay where he was and keep an eye on the crazy Air Force officer, or if he
should head back to his rig and call for backup.
"You're right. It is." Jack knew he needed to get both Sam and Daniel medical
attention, but also knew he wouldn't get too far if he had to fight Carter the entire
way. Hell, Officer Simpson just might do something rash if he thought Jack was
roughing up a woman. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Jack made up his mind. He
just couldn't risk Carter babbling in an Alien language or have her unwittingly dish
out top-secret Stargate information; he needed Sam quiet. And although Janet
might skin him alive later, Jack knew what needed to be done. He leaned back on
his left leg with every intention of throwing a right hook into the side of his 2IC's
head. He knew how to throw a punch and planned to hit Sam on the right side of
her skull and not the left; that wouldn't be too bad, right? //You keep telling
yourself that Jack.//
But just as he reached back to build momentum for his punch, Sam began to sway.
Jack barely had time to catch her before she slumped bonelessly to the ground
deeply unconscious.
"Tor, buddy. This would be a great time to pop on by for a visit." Jack mumbled as
he carefully picked Sam up and positioned her into the backseat of the car. Behind
him he could hear the officer cursing.
"What the hell did you do to her?!" Jim shouted questioning his decision to keep his
gun pointed at the crazy Colonel; he should have gone for the radio.
Shutting the back door, Jack reached through the passenger window and placed two
fingers against Daniel's neck. He breathed a small sigh of relief; Daniel was doing
just fine. Well maybe not *fine* fine, but he would live. He squinted at the irate
Officer and walked around towards the driver's door.
"Jim," Jack paused. "Can I call you Jim?" Receiving only flabbergasted silence, Jack
continued. "My friends are obviously ill and I am going to take them to where they'll
get the help they need. You know as well as I do that this road only leads to
Cheyenne Mountain, so you are welcome to follow me, but I'm going to be leaving
now." Calmly Jack got into his car and turned on the ignition.
Through his rolled down window Jack called out to the still stunned Officer. "I really
am a good guy Jim. Go ahead and send me that speeding ticket, I'm sure I was
going at least 50."
With that Colonel Jack O'Neill pulled out from the shoulder of the road and headed
(at a sedate 35 mph) towards the SGC. Absently rubbing his temple at the growing
tension headache, Jack wryly thought of the ways Dr. Janet Fraiser would get him
back. An innocent house viewing, and what happens? Jack checks out one patient
from the infirmary and returns with two.
It was not his day.
A/n- It might have taken me a few weeks, but at least it's decent length, yes?
Things get a little twisted in the next chapter. G Let me know if you're still
enjoying. You *know* feedback makes me write faster!
**The Duke brothers. Bo and Luke. From the Dukes of Hazzard, another really
hideous television show from America in the 70's. It was brilliant.