He'd realized what had been bothering him the minute he saw the van in his driveway. When he'd seen the van upon leaving his house, he'd noticed it. The van didn't belong on his street. No one owned one that he knew of and he had at least a passing familiarity with all the cars on his road. Jack pulled the truck to a stop and got out, just in time to hear glass breaking inside his house.
He reached under his seat immediately, pulling out a leather holster and the backup gun that it held. The holster fell to the grass as Jack raced across the lawn, and without thinking about it consciously, he took the safety off the gun as his eyes took in the battered front lock, and the marks that Jaffer's claws had scored on the wood of the door.
"Sam!"
He crashed through the door, which yielded under his weight easily and swung open, knocking a shocked Gene to the floor, and revealing a nightmare that he took in with one quick look.
Jaffer was tussling on the couch with someone. Jack could see both of them clearly. He heard a pained noise coming from the couch that was obviously made by Sam, so he knew immediately she was on the couch as well. There was another guy down on the floor near the couch who was just starting to crawl away, and the bloody trail he was leaving was certain testimony that he'd already had his run in with Jaffer.
Gene looked up from where Jack's entry had knocked him to the floor and he tried to dodge out of the way. Oh, God! The guy was back, and he had a gun! Oh, God! He didn't want anything else to do with this place. This house. Or the dog! He certainly didn't want anything to do with the man that had appeared out of nowhere looking furious and as deadly as the gun in his hand.
Jack didn't even think. The soldier took over as he always did in this kind of situation, and Gene was struck down immediately with a quick blow to the side of his head. Jack wasn't going to ignore the battle on the couch, but he would never in a million years leave a possible enemy behind him.
Gene went down, pole-axed.
"Jaffer!"
It was all the warning Jack gave as he dove into the fray himself, coming over the back of the couch in a controlled dive that took Tom and Jaffer both. Jaffer moved just in time to avoid O'Neill, jumping out of the way, but Tom was struck fully, and the two men rolled off Sam and onto the coffee table, which broke under their weight, sending them to the floor.
Jack lost his gun. But he didn't need it. He was so furious that anyone would dare attack Sam – in his house! – that he was ready to kill Tom with his bare hands.
Jaffer dove into the fight as well. He was just as angry as Jack, after all, and his blood was surging through his veins. He couldn't get a piece of Tom, though. Not without hurting Jack – something Jaffer would never risk doing. The teeth flashed, and growls punctuated the air, but he couldn't get close enough to do any damage.
Sam sat up, her hand pressing tightly against her aching ribs as she tried to catch her breath. The fury of the assault was amazing – both Jaffer and Jack's. She couldn't ever remember seeing him so mad, and she'd never heard or seen Jaffer looking so dangerous. It was hard to believe that this was the same sweet dog that had held her down the day before with such cheerfulness.
A movement caught her eye, and she saw Jim rolling towards the scuffle. Then she realized he wasn't rolling towards the scuffle, he was rolling towards Jack's gun. Sam couldn't reach it. She hurt so bad she just then that she couldn't have moved quickly enough even without the broken leg. With it... well, there was no way. But she knew who could.
"Jaffer!"
The lab looked up at the sound of her voice, and she pointed to Jim, who also looked up. Another growl, and a cry of fear, and Jim once more found himself on the business end of Jaffer's attack. The gun forgotten, and his arms up trying to protect his face from the flashing teeth that were snapping dangerously close. Sam hugged her ribs and watched the battles rage as she tried to catch her breath.
Jack didn't hear any of it. His attention was on the much bigger Tom, who was struggling to get loose. Like Gene, he'd lost any appetite he'd ever had for this. He just wanted to escape now. And Jack wasn't going to let him.
Anyone who knew O'Neill well knew he had a temper. Knew that you just didn't cross him. Knew that he was deadly serious when it came to protecting those he loved. But they didn't know just how deadly he could be when it came to something like this, because none of the people that knew him ever would have dared go near Carter in such a situation. Wouldn't have dreamed of attacking her – even if she hadn't been able to easily protect herself, they knew once Jack found out, it would have been even worse than anything Sam could have done to them. And this was why.
O'Neill was savage, now, as he punched Tom again and again. There was no holding back, no looking around to make sure Jaffer was okay, or that Sam was okay. Jack was focused on only one thing, and Sam realized suddenly that Jack had every intention of actually killing the man who'd attacked her.
"Jack!"
He didn't even turn. His fist landed again.
"Jack!" Sam shouted his name this time.
Jaffer looked up from Jim, anxious when he heard the odd, desperate note in Sam's voice, but there wasn't anyone attacking her, and he couldn't see a threat. Jim moved, slightly, once the dog's attention was elsewhere, and Jaffer's head turned once more to his quarry. Jim froze. Yeah, he wasn't going anywhere.
"Jack! Stop!"
She rolled off the couch, gasping when she hurt herself with the motion.
"Jack! Stop!"
He turned, then. Something in her voice caught his attention, even through his fury. And saw her on the floor. And stopped.
"Sam?"
He rolled off Tom, and crawled the short distance to her, running a bleeding hand over her cheek.
"You okay?"
She nodded.
"Stop. Please?"
He looked back over at Tom, who lay still, looking at Jack, as if waiting for the attack to continue. It didn't. He was done. With a groan, O'Neill lurched to his feet and stopped down and picked Sam carefully up, putting her back on the couch.
"Guard them, Jaffer," He said, reaching down and picking up his gun and handing it to Sam. He wasn't sure he should hold it just then, anyways. She turned the gun on Tom, but he held up his hands. He wasn't going anywhere, either.
Jack limped over to the phone and picked it up, and dialed the police.
He reached under his seat immediately, pulling out a leather holster and the backup gun that it held. The holster fell to the grass as Jack raced across the lawn, and without thinking about it consciously, he took the safety off the gun as his eyes took in the battered front lock, and the marks that Jaffer's claws had scored on the wood of the door.
"Sam!"
He crashed through the door, which yielded under his weight easily and swung open, knocking a shocked Gene to the floor, and revealing a nightmare that he took in with one quick look.
Jaffer was tussling on the couch with someone. Jack could see both of them clearly. He heard a pained noise coming from the couch that was obviously made by Sam, so he knew immediately she was on the couch as well. There was another guy down on the floor near the couch who was just starting to crawl away, and the bloody trail he was leaving was certain testimony that he'd already had his run in with Jaffer.
Gene looked up from where Jack's entry had knocked him to the floor and he tried to dodge out of the way. Oh, God! The guy was back, and he had a gun! Oh, God! He didn't want anything else to do with this place. This house. Or the dog! He certainly didn't want anything to do with the man that had appeared out of nowhere looking furious and as deadly as the gun in his hand.
Jack didn't even think. The soldier took over as he always did in this kind of situation, and Gene was struck down immediately with a quick blow to the side of his head. Jack wasn't going to ignore the battle on the couch, but he would never in a million years leave a possible enemy behind him.
Gene went down, pole-axed.
"Jaffer!"
It was all the warning Jack gave as he dove into the fray himself, coming over the back of the couch in a controlled dive that took Tom and Jaffer both. Jaffer moved just in time to avoid O'Neill, jumping out of the way, but Tom was struck fully, and the two men rolled off Sam and onto the coffee table, which broke under their weight, sending them to the floor.
Jack lost his gun. But he didn't need it. He was so furious that anyone would dare attack Sam – in his house! – that he was ready to kill Tom with his bare hands.
Jaffer dove into the fight as well. He was just as angry as Jack, after all, and his blood was surging through his veins. He couldn't get a piece of Tom, though. Not without hurting Jack – something Jaffer would never risk doing. The teeth flashed, and growls punctuated the air, but he couldn't get close enough to do any damage.
Sam sat up, her hand pressing tightly against her aching ribs as she tried to catch her breath. The fury of the assault was amazing – both Jaffer and Jack's. She couldn't ever remember seeing him so mad, and she'd never heard or seen Jaffer looking so dangerous. It was hard to believe that this was the same sweet dog that had held her down the day before with such cheerfulness.
A movement caught her eye, and she saw Jim rolling towards the scuffle. Then she realized he wasn't rolling towards the scuffle, he was rolling towards Jack's gun. Sam couldn't reach it. She hurt so bad she just then that she couldn't have moved quickly enough even without the broken leg. With it... well, there was no way. But she knew who could.
"Jaffer!"
The lab looked up at the sound of her voice, and she pointed to Jim, who also looked up. Another growl, and a cry of fear, and Jim once more found himself on the business end of Jaffer's attack. The gun forgotten, and his arms up trying to protect his face from the flashing teeth that were snapping dangerously close. Sam hugged her ribs and watched the battles rage as she tried to catch her breath.
Jack didn't hear any of it. His attention was on the much bigger Tom, who was struggling to get loose. Like Gene, he'd lost any appetite he'd ever had for this. He just wanted to escape now. And Jack wasn't going to let him.
Anyone who knew O'Neill well knew he had a temper. Knew that you just didn't cross him. Knew that he was deadly serious when it came to protecting those he loved. But they didn't know just how deadly he could be when it came to something like this, because none of the people that knew him ever would have dared go near Carter in such a situation. Wouldn't have dreamed of attacking her – even if she hadn't been able to easily protect herself, they knew once Jack found out, it would have been even worse than anything Sam could have done to them. And this was why.
O'Neill was savage, now, as he punched Tom again and again. There was no holding back, no looking around to make sure Jaffer was okay, or that Sam was okay. Jack was focused on only one thing, and Sam realized suddenly that Jack had every intention of actually killing the man who'd attacked her.
"Jack!"
He didn't even turn. His fist landed again.
"Jack!" Sam shouted his name this time.
Jaffer looked up from Jim, anxious when he heard the odd, desperate note in Sam's voice, but there wasn't anyone attacking her, and he couldn't see a threat. Jim moved, slightly, once the dog's attention was elsewhere, and Jaffer's head turned once more to his quarry. Jim froze. Yeah, he wasn't going anywhere.
"Jack! Stop!"
She rolled off the couch, gasping when she hurt herself with the motion.
"Jack! Stop!"
He turned, then. Something in her voice caught his attention, even through his fury. And saw her on the floor. And stopped.
"Sam?"
He rolled off Tom, and crawled the short distance to her, running a bleeding hand over her cheek.
"You okay?"
She nodded.
"Stop. Please?"
He looked back over at Tom, who lay still, looking at Jack, as if waiting for the attack to continue. It didn't. He was done. With a groan, O'Neill lurched to his feet and stopped down and picked Sam carefully up, putting her back on the couch.
"Guard them, Jaffer," He said, reaching down and picking up his gun and handing it to Sam. He wasn't sure he should hold it just then, anyways. She turned the gun on Tom, but he held up his hands. He wasn't going anywhere, either.
Jack limped over to the phone and picked it up, and dialed the police.