The next day Carter came into work, hoping to avoid everyone. She slipped into her lab and wasn't heard from until the briefing at 0800.

"Morning Sam," Daniel said from the table, half-engrossed in the report he was reading. He yawned and reached for his cup of coffee.

It wasn't until she was sitting at her usual spot that she realized there was a cup on her place, right beside her own report folder. It was steaming

Teal'c nodded to her from across the table. "A person whom I am not allowed to identify requested that I leave that beverage on your place at the table. He also requested that I inform you that the commissary has no cinnamon rolls."

Captain Carter blinked. "Oh. Thank you, Teal'c." And thank you, Colonel! Maybe he didn't have as little respect for her as she imagined. Or maybe he pitied her…or maybe she was just overanalyzing a simple, nice gesture.

"Captain Carter?" Teal'c asked.

"Yeah?"

"What is a cinnamon roll?"

Carter replied, after a second of silence, "It's a pastry that has cinnamon – a really tasty ingredient, like sugar – in it, usually topped with icing."

Teal'c inclined his head. "Indeed," he said, and General Hammond walked in.

"Where is Colonel O'Neill?" he asked immediately, puzzled by the absence of his 2IC.

The three shared a look, and Carter was about to reply when Colonel O'Neill hurried in. "Here, sir."

Hammond nodded. "Alright people. What's on the agenda today?"

Captain Carter sighed heavily with relief when she got to her lab. Another trip from the briefing room to her lab, Hansen-less and, this time, Colonel-less.

"Thank god," she muttered, reaching over to examine her "doohickey" as Colonel O'Neill liked to call it.

She'd been examining the bulky device for a good fifteen minutes when she heard an "ahem" outside the open door. She looked up. Oh shit.

"Hey Sammie," Hansen said, stalking into her lab with glinting eyes.

Carter started to shiver. Shit, that's the only way out! she thought, panicky. Oh shit oh shit oh SHIT! It's not just going to be a dream! He's gonna rape me right in my lab!

Then something snapped in her. Not if I can help it, she thought viciously, grabbing a heavy wrench from her worktable and holding it in front of her in her right hand, while fumbling for her knife with the other. Damn, where was that knife!

Hansen chuckled. "Samantha, Samantha, Samantha, do you really think you can stop me from getting what I want?"

"Not really," she answered, her tongue feeling gluey in her mouth. "But I can beat the crap out of you trying!"

"Can you really believe that too?"

Carter didn't answer for a moment, glaring frightfully and angrily at Hansen, when her fingers hit the jackpot; her left hip, a small gun. Without answering him, she tore into the fabric of her waistband and closed her hand around the weapon.

"No, but then again," she aimed the gun at his chest, "I don't have to, Hansen."

She would've felt more confident if he'd backed away, looking at least a little ruffled by the fact she was aiming a gun at a pretty vital organ of his. But he didn't; he just stood there, smirking. "Oh, Sammie," he said with a sigh, and he started toward her – slowly, terrorizing.

As he came toward her, she slipped back, her left arm trembling. She didn't dare try to transfer the gun to her right hand, the better hand, and the wrench visa-versa.

"You won't shoot me, Sammie. You care too much; that's your weakness! But I, I can make you strong."

Carter wasn't going to fool for that; still, she was surprised he was wasting time. A part of her just wished he'd get on with it, but her no-nonsense officer side just wouldn't say "give up". She was also surprised when she felt her lower back brush against the worktable. Shit, this was really going to happen. All her work, training, down the toilet. She was going to be raped, then transferred, and the most he'd get was a court marshal.

Hansen hadn't bought her bluff; she couldn't shoot him. How could she? It was against everything she stood for, and he hadn't actually attacked her yet. It was coming, and if she didn't want to be raped, she'd use common sense and shoot the damned bastard, but no judge would ever see it that way.

The next minute he lunged at her, grabbing her and whipping her from the desk to the wall. He slammed her against it, and her weak attempt to stop him from doing so was tossed away like a rag doll. He quickly disarmed her and tried to pin her with his body, but Carter shoved her knee up, blocking him, trying to keep as much distant between her crotch and his.

Hansen impatiently wrenched her knee down, and a flash of hot pain shot through her upper thigh. "Agh!" she yelped, trying to push him away. He was relentless, pulling down her pants and underwear.

Oh, god! It's really happening! I haven't been with anyone since him – oh god, this is gonna hurt – oh god…!

"HEY!"

Captain Carter's eyes shot to the door and she practically died with relief when she saw Colonel O'Neill there. Maybe he did respect her still, maybe he didn't, but he'd never let Hansen rape her.

"HEY!" Colonel O'Neill roared again, and he ran at Hansen, who didn't stop. Hansen was stripping himself and got as far as his pants before he was grabbed.

Hansen growled when she squirmed again and punched her in the face. Pain blossomed across her cheekbone, somewhere under her eye. Soon his crushing weight was lifted off of her and she crumbled to the floor like a sack of wheat. Above her, Hansen and Colonel O'Neill were fighting like a pair of rabid bears, the Colonel with his black ops training having the upper hand. Hansen tripped over his pants, which were pooled around his ankles, and Colonel O'Neill promptly knocked him out with the fallen wrench.

Discarding the wrench, O'Neill rushed to Carter's side. "Carter, Carter!" he hissed, shaking her. "C'mon, answer me!"

Carter was conscious, and tried to answer but she couldn't. She was shivering, her mind going blank. She recognized the symptoms of shock but was powerless to evade them. She knew she should answer, "Yes, sir, thank you, sir!" but soon that familiar sentence too flew out the window with the rest of her "technobabblin' brain".

"Damn," the Colonel cursed, patting her down to check for broken bones. When he reached her right thigh she yelped, then moaned. O'Neill swore under his breath again and yanked up her pants and underwear to preserve some of her dignity before he phoned the infirmary for a stretcher to wheel her around.

"C'mon, Carter," he said, taking her by the shoulder, coaxing her up verbally and physically. "Let's get you to the infirmary. It's over. You don't have to worry about him anymore. His ass will get whooped from here to hell and back." The thought took a moment to register, but after that moment he was rewarded with a weak smile. He helped her walk to the elevator and met the stretcher halfway.

"Okay, Carter, this'll make life easier for ya. Up ya go."

He waited for her to make a move to get up on the stretcher, knowing he would have to help her when she did. But Carter stared at it for a moment and said, "No."

"Carter, get on the stretcher."

Captain Carter blinked. "No," she insisted. "Let me wal –"

Colonel O'Neill let her go so abruptly she nearly fell into a heap on the floor again; she grabbed the rail of the stretcher so she wouldn't. He kneeled beside her. "Need I say more?" he asked.

She shook her head and he helped her onto the stretcher. He and the two medics wheeled her to the infirmary, but first O'Neill motioned for the two SFs. He told them that Hansen was unconscious in Captain Carter's lab and they needed to take him to a holding cell.

"Not the infirmary, sir?" one SF asked. Colonel O'Neill's glower was answer enough.

"You're lucky," the new CMO, Dr. Fraiser told Captain Carter later. "Your leg has only a minor sprain above the knee. It's going to be painful for a while but that should be the worst of it."

Carter nodded blankly, and Dr. Fraiser hovered at the end of her bed. Thinking better of leaving, Fraiser walked around to the head of the bed. "Are you sure you're all right, Captain?" she asked softly.

Another voice answered for her. "No, she's not."

The two women looked over to see Colonel O'Neill stroll in. "Hey Carter," he said somewhat awkwardly.

Captain Carter smiled weakly again. "Sir," she said. "Thanks for –"

He waved away her thank-you. "Think nothing of it," he said, and her shadowy face revealed that it was a lot more than nothing in her mind.

"Yes sir," she said quietly, her gaze dropping to her hands.

A moment passed and Dr. Fraiser said, "I'll be in my office if you need me, Captain." Carter nodded and the small, friendly woman left, her heels clicking down the hallway.

Colonel O'Neill sighed audibly and he pulled up a chair. "Look, Carter," he said, rubbing his forehead, "about the other night…I don't know what I said that hurt you or pissed you off or…whatever, but whatever it was I'm sorry."

"It's my fault sir," she said, still not meeting his gaze.

"How's that?"

"If I weren't so…weak, I wouldn't have lost everyone's respect. It was only a matter of time before you didn't–"

"Whoa!" he said rather loudly. She looked up. Colonel O'Neill looked very confused. "What made you think I lost respect for you? Carter…" he sighed. "The whole running thing was meant to be a joke. A stupid joke, but nonetheless. And I think I respected you from the minute you stepped in that door."

"You did?" she said, surprised.

"Yeah, that so hard to believe?"

"Oh…well, you didn't seem to…" she said hesitantly.

"Carter, you rendered Ferretti speechless. How could I not respect that?" he said with a quirky smile.

She gave a small, nervous laugh and her eyes darted around the room. "Wh – where is he?" she asked tentatively.

O'Neill's eyes darkened and he answered, "In a holding cell."

"Y- you banged him pretty hard. Won't you get in trouble for that?"

Colonel O'Neill grinned grimly. "I'm the 2IC of the entire damned base, and he's just the commander of an SG team. It's my word against his and we have proof he attacked you, with every intention of rape."

"Again," she whispered. He gave her an odd look, and she shook her head. "What's the proof?" she asked.

"My word as a witness and the tape from security."

"You might want to get that tape now, and not let it out of your sight," Carter advised. "Hansen has ways of getting what he wants. Not all of them are as blunt as rape." Her eyes sank to the space between them, surprised when that space suddenly closed. She looked up just as she was engulfed in an enormous O'Neill hug.

"You'll get through this," Colonel O'Neill whispered. "Trust me. I'm going to help you every way I can."