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Jack raised a hand in greeting to Phil and Tim as he walked by the bar area just off the main dining room. They both raised their glasses of beer in return. He noted that Russ the Ass was not with them, and continued on to the men's room.
Russ came out just as Jack neared the door. He was looking down, but stopped short of running straight into Jack's chest. Russ stepped back, a nervous look passing over his face just before it was replaced by a stupid cockiness.
"Well, Colonel O'Neill. What a coincidence meeting you here."
Jack stared the man down, pushing his hands into his pockets. "No coincidence, Russ."
"Do you have something to say to me?"
Jack took one hand out of his pocket, and noted Russell's almost unnoticeable flinch. He hid his smirk by running his fingers across his mouth. "Here's the thing, Russ. Sam came here to have fun... relax... see some old friends. She doesn't need you being a pain in the ass."
"Are you her father? Or her date?"
Jack clenched his jaw for several heartbeats before he spoke again. "This is what's going to happen, Russ. You're going to go back to the table, excuse yourself to the ladies, and disappear for the rest of the night."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes... really. And I'd make myself silent and scarce tomorrow. Capiche?"
Russ didn't say anything, only standing with his arms crossed over his chest while Jack stared him down. But it was clear a good bit of the starch had left his backbone.
"Good," Jack said and turned to go back to Sam.
"I don't know what she told you, but I'm not the bad guy here. As far as I was concerned, Samantha Carter was just a good piece of---"
Jack silenced all words when he twisted and brought his forearm against Russell's throat, slamming his back against the wall. Russ coughed and sputtered, yanking at Jack's arm as he tried to find the floor that was a good two inches beneath his feet. Russell's eyes were wide and his face was turning a pleasant shade of red.
"Say it... think it... and you'll really wish you had never opened your mouth. And I'll tell you something, Russ. I won't be the one to kick your ass, as much as I'd like to. No, Russ... I'm gonna stand back and watch Major Samantha Carter kick it. You don't stand a chance," Jack said through clenched teeth. "And watching her take apart bigger men than you really turns me one," he added, and not-so-gently patted the man's cheek
He dropped his arm and Russ sank to the floor, gasping for air with his hands to his throat. Jack made a show of straightening his sweater, dusting non-existent particles from his sleeve and glancing over his shoulder.
"You probably won't want to mention this to Tim or Phillip. Telling them you got roughed up by an old man like me... well, geez... that'd be almost as bad as admitting you got beat up by a girl. And after all, Russ, that's what happened wasn't it? You tried to force yourself on Sam, and she kicked your ass for it."
Russ managed to catch his breath, and sputtered, "She told you?"
"Nah. But I know her... she hurt you, but I tell ya, I've taught her a few tricks since then. Good-bye, Russ."
He put his hands back in his pockets, glanced around and grinned. "I promised her there'd be no blood." Then he turned and walked away.
Tim and Phillip were already back at the table when he reached them, and Sam glanced at him with wary blue eyes. Jack just smiled and leaned down to kiss her cheek before he sat down.
"Did they bring out the dessert yet?" he asked.
"On its way. I ordered for you, if that's okay..." Sam said, still watching him.
"Of course. You know what I like," he said, matching her gaze.
Her expression eased and a smile took over her expression. He squeezed her hand beneath the table.
"You didn't see Russ, did you?" Tim asked.
Jack looked to them, but saw the said cretin approaching them, his face still red and his eyes still wide. Their stares met, and Jack felt an intense rush of satisfaction at the way the guy blanched.
"Here he is now."
Russ approached the table, but avoided Jack's eyes. "Um, I think I'm gonna call it a night. I – I'm not feeling very well."
"Are you okay, Russ?" Erin asked.
"Oh, yeah, sure. Just – uh – something didn't agree with me. I'm going to go to my room. I'll see you at the wedding tomorrow."
Before the women could say goodnight, he was gone. Sam turned to him, staring into his face, and he did his best to put on his don't-look-at-me- I'm-innocent face. A slow, sexy smile bowed her lips.
"Wonder what got to him?" Tim asked.
"Yeah, I wonder..." Sam said before taking her gaze from him and turning to the chocolate cake the waiter set before her.
"Mmmmm.... Cake," Jack said, picking up his fork.
Jack raised a hand in greeting to Phil and Tim as he walked by the bar area just off the main dining room. They both raised their glasses of beer in return. He noted that Russ the Ass was not with them, and continued on to the men's room.
Russ came out just as Jack neared the door. He was looking down, but stopped short of running straight into Jack's chest. Russ stepped back, a nervous look passing over his face just before it was replaced by a stupid cockiness.
"Well, Colonel O'Neill. What a coincidence meeting you here."
Jack stared the man down, pushing his hands into his pockets. "No coincidence, Russ."
"Do you have something to say to me?"
Jack took one hand out of his pocket, and noted Russell's almost unnoticeable flinch. He hid his smirk by running his fingers across his mouth. "Here's the thing, Russ. Sam came here to have fun... relax... see some old friends. She doesn't need you being a pain in the ass."
"Are you her father? Or her date?"
Jack clenched his jaw for several heartbeats before he spoke again. "This is what's going to happen, Russ. You're going to go back to the table, excuse yourself to the ladies, and disappear for the rest of the night."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes... really. And I'd make myself silent and scarce tomorrow. Capiche?"
Russ didn't say anything, only standing with his arms crossed over his chest while Jack stared him down. But it was clear a good bit of the starch had left his backbone.
"Good," Jack said and turned to go back to Sam.
"I don't know what she told you, but I'm not the bad guy here. As far as I was concerned, Samantha Carter was just a good piece of---"
Jack silenced all words when he twisted and brought his forearm against Russell's throat, slamming his back against the wall. Russ coughed and sputtered, yanking at Jack's arm as he tried to find the floor that was a good two inches beneath his feet. Russell's eyes were wide and his face was turning a pleasant shade of red.
"Say it... think it... and you'll really wish you had never opened your mouth. And I'll tell you something, Russ. I won't be the one to kick your ass, as much as I'd like to. No, Russ... I'm gonna stand back and watch Major Samantha Carter kick it. You don't stand a chance," Jack said through clenched teeth. "And watching her take apart bigger men than you really turns me one," he added, and not-so-gently patted the man's cheek
He dropped his arm and Russ sank to the floor, gasping for air with his hands to his throat. Jack made a show of straightening his sweater, dusting non-existent particles from his sleeve and glancing over his shoulder.
"You probably won't want to mention this to Tim or Phillip. Telling them you got roughed up by an old man like me... well, geez... that'd be almost as bad as admitting you got beat up by a girl. And after all, Russ, that's what happened wasn't it? You tried to force yourself on Sam, and she kicked your ass for it."
Russ managed to catch his breath, and sputtered, "She told you?"
"Nah. But I know her... she hurt you, but I tell ya, I've taught her a few tricks since then. Good-bye, Russ."
He put his hands back in his pockets, glanced around and grinned. "I promised her there'd be no blood." Then he turned and walked away.
Tim and Phillip were already back at the table when he reached them, and Sam glanced at him with wary blue eyes. Jack just smiled and leaned down to kiss her cheek before he sat down.
"Did they bring out the dessert yet?" he asked.
"On its way. I ordered for you, if that's okay..." Sam said, still watching him.
"Of course. You know what I like," he said, matching her gaze.
Her expression eased and a smile took over her expression. He squeezed her hand beneath the table.
"You didn't see Russ, did you?" Tim asked.
Jack looked to them, but saw the said cretin approaching them, his face still red and his eyes still wide. Their stares met, and Jack felt an intense rush of satisfaction at the way the guy blanched.
"Here he is now."
Russ approached the table, but avoided Jack's eyes. "Um, I think I'm gonna call it a night. I – I'm not feeling very well."
"Are you okay, Russ?" Erin asked.
"Oh, yeah, sure. Just – uh – something didn't agree with me. I'm going to go to my room. I'll see you at the wedding tomorrow."
Before the women could say goodnight, he was gone. Sam turned to him, staring into his face, and he did his best to put on his don't-look-at-me- I'm-innocent face. A slow, sexy smile bowed her lips.
"Wonder what got to him?" Tim asked.
"Yeah, I wonder..." Sam said before taking her gaze from him and turning to the chocolate cake the waiter set before her.
"Mmmmm.... Cake," Jack said, picking up his fork.
