A/N: Just to be safe, this chapter has a TW for police harassment.
Exactly 30 minutes after his altercation with Officer Hyme, Jack walked into the Colorado Springs Police Department and asked for Officer Kinkirk.
"Colonel O'Neill," Kinkirk greeted him with a thin smile. "You're right on time." She motioned for him to follow, then led him into a conference room and shut the door. "I appreciate your willingness to come down to the precinct. I'll try to wrap this up as quickly as possible."
Jack nodded and waited for her to continue.
"Detective Shanahan claims you assaulted him yesterday afternoon at Ms—Major Carter's home," Kinkirk stated. "Please tell me your version of events."
"I, along with the rest of my team, accompanied Major Carter to her home with the sole intent to pack her an overnight bag and change the locks," Jack calmly explained.
"Your team being?" Kinkirk interrupted.
"Myself, Major Carter, Dr. Daniel Jackson, and, um, Murray," Jack's lips quirked.
"Murray?" Kinkirk cocked her head. "Does Mr. Murray have a last name?"
"No."
"No?" Kinkirk parroted, her eyebrows raising.
"It's classified," Jack shrugged.
"Okay," Kinkirk frowned and made a few notes, then motioned for Jack to continue.
"Upon arrival, we discovered Shanahan had trashed the kitchen and bedroom," he said.
"Do you have proof it was Detective Shanahan?"
"Just simple deductive reasoning," Jack replied smoothly. "Daniel ran to the store to buy cleaning supplies, Murray was packing Major Carter's overnight bag, and I was changing the lock on the back door."
"Where was Major Carter?" Kinkirk asked.
"I settled her on the couch and ordered her to relax."
"You ordered her?" Kinkirk gave him a sharp look.
"I'm her commanding officer; I give her orders all the time. She needed to rest, not clean up the shrub's tantrum," he replied coolly.
Kinkirk said nothing, her lips twitching, then motioned for him to continue.
"I had just finished changing the back door lock when I heard Major Carter tell someone not to touch her," Jack said. "When I got to the living room, Shanahan had a hold of her injured wrist. She demanded he let her go. When he failed to comply, I removed him from the premises."
"How did you remove him?"
Jack pinned her with a hard stare as he debated on how specific he wanted to get. At a knock on the conference room door, Kinkirk frowned and stood up.
"I'm in the middle of taking a statement," she huffed, opening the door to whomever had knocked.
"I want to talk to him," Pete's voice carried into the room, making Jack bite back a grin. Oh, he'd love to talk to Pete. Alone.
"You know you can't," Kinkirk countered.
"Five minutes, Cindy," Hyme's voice bit out. "All we need is five minutes."
"You know it's not—"
"Officer Kinkirk, a word," a third voice called. Judging by Kinkirk's body language it was one of her superiors. She closed the door, making it so Jack couldn't hear what was being said. He could tell Kinkirk was not happy by her muffled tone and seconds later it was confirmed when she stalked back into the conference room.
Kinkirk looked pissed as she stepped into the room, followed by Hyme.
"We'll escort him to lockup," Hyme said with a twisted smile. Pete said nothing, hovering just out of sight outside the doorway, shifting from foot-to-foot
"Lockup?" Jack asked in an unconcerned tone. He kept his posture slouched, portraying boredom to the men who were downright eager to get him alone.
"I've been assigned to another case," Kinkirk said stiffly. "Hyme is now the officer in charge. I did let the chief know of his conflict of interest," she glanced at the two male officers, earning herself a dark glare from Hyme. "He assured me that the case will be reassigned as soon as another officer is available."
"In the meantime, I'm expected to wait in a holding cell," Jack surmised, allowing his irritation to show for the first time. He assumed Pete would attempt something like this, but didn't expect the chief of police to enable him. "I'd like to place a phone call," he informed her.
"Of course," she said, motioning for him to stand up.
Hyme stepped forward with a set of handcuffs.
"Is that really necessary?" Kinkirk snapped at him. She shot Jack an apologetic look.
"Afraid so," Hyme told her gleefully. "He has assaulted two officers already. Turn around," he ordered.
Jack didn't want to comply, but knew better than to resist arrest inside a police station. Pete wanted him to put up a fight. It would make Jack look that much more guilty. So instead, he turned around and tried not to wince as Hyme clenched the cuffs tightly around his wrists.
"I believe I'd like to file that complaint now," Jack told Kinkirk in an exasperated tone. Hyme jerked him sideways toward the door in response then pushed him forward, causing Jack to stumble into the hallway.
They walked a few meters, pausing so Hyme could unlock the holding room door. He roughly shoved Jack inside, then turned to Pete. "I need to go grab the booking paperwork. He's all yours," Hyme's voice was practically jovial as he tossed the handcuff keys to Pete. "Holding surveillance will be offline for five minutes."
"Thanks, Buddy," Pete chuckled darkly, then turned to Jack as Hyme exited the holding cell area. It was the first really good look Jack had gotten of the man who'd dared to hurt Carter. Jack expected to feel pure rage, but as he took in Pete's two black eyes, he let out a bark of laughter. Jack still felt rage but his chest also swelled with pride at how much of a beat down Sam had managed to inflict even in her injured state.
The quick punch to his midsection had a surprising amount of force as Jack took it with a deep grunt and a sharp exhale. He forced one more chuckle past his lips for effect.
"It's time you and I had a little talk," Pete made a show of tossing the handcuff keys in the air and catching them. "The great Colonel O'Neill," he mocked. "I don't see what's so great about you," Pete landed another blow against Jack's unguarded abdomen, followed by a jab to his left kidney.
"Do you have a point Shanahan?" Jack grunted, wincing at the sharp pain. The man could definitely throw a punch, but it didn't have the same bite as a Goa'uld ribbon device.
"Sam thinks you walk on water," Pete's tone changed. His eyes narrowed, becoming nothing more than dark slits. "She thinks you're some sort of hero."
Jack didn't say a word, knowing Shanahan didn't have a clue what Sam thought about him. She knew better than anyone his faults and vices. He was no hero.
"Tonight, while you're locked in here, I'm going to make sure she understands that you aren't." Gone was the affable persona he projected, replaced by the monster who had dared to attack Sam. "Tonight, I'm going to finish what I started and you won't be able to save her and feed your hero complex."
"Carter is more than capable of saving herself," Jack growled. "But judging by the beat down your face received, I'm guessing you already knew that."
Pete struck again with another set of punches to Jack's mid-section.
Jack growled low, wanting nothing more than to strike back. He could do it easily. He was more than capable of fighting with his hands cuffed behind his back, but then, that's what Pete wanted. Instead of taking the bait, Jack replied coolly, "what's wrong Shanahan." He smirked, "afraid to take on Carter again." As shock flashed across Pete's face, Jack taunted, "Or is it that you realized you're not man enough to satisfy her? I could give you a few tips. Maybe then she'd look at you the same way she looks at me." Jack braced for Pete's reaction to his lie.
Jack's head snapped back from the force of Pete's rage-filled punch. The man landed two more rapid punches to his head before Hyme burst into the room and pulled him off of Jack.
"Dammit Pete," Hyme huffed, "no visible marks. That was the deal!"
Pete shrugged Hyme off and went at Jack again. "You bastard! I knew there was something going on! I knew it!"
"Shut up!" Hyme hollered, stepping in front of Pete. "Walk away! Dammit. Walk. Away."
Jack licked the corner of his mouth and tasted the sharp metallic sting of blood. Mission accomplished, he thought grimly, not liking what he'd had to say to push Pete over the edge.
"Hyme!" Kinkirk's voice bit out from the doorway. "What the hell!?" She gasped when she caught a glance of Jack's face. "I can't believe—The chief wants O'Neill brought to his office," she relayed in a clipped tone.
"Tell him we'll be there in a few minutes," Hyme grunted as he pushed Pete past Kinkirk.
"No, now," Kinkirk growled. "The chief wants him now. And he's going to be really interested to hear why our guest now has a busted lip and a black eye!"
"Shut up!" Hyme yelled at her. "O'Neill slipped and fell," he turned to Jack. "Isn't that right O'Neill? You slipped," he glared at him.
Jack couldn't hide his incredulous expression. Why on earth would this corrupt cop think Jack would protect him.
"Sure, I slipped," Jack scoffed, "into Shanahan's fist."
"Come on," Kinkirk shoved past Hyme, motioning for Jack to exit the room. "I don't have time for this." She led him back up the hallway and past the conference room. "I'm sorry," she shook her head sadly. "We aren't all like that," she said, unlocking his cuffs.
Jack rubbed the sting from his wrists, grimacing as pins and needles shot through to his fingertips. "I hope that's true," Jack responded. "But I really would like to file that complaint."
"I'll process it myself," Kinkirk nodded, then opened the door to the Chief of Police's office.
Post Note: For readers who might be interested in the writing process: In the original first draft of this story, this chapter ended quite differently and the story wrapped up two chapters later. But my writing group convinced me there was a more extensive story to be told. This chapter got a massive rewrite and became what it is now. The changes resulted in 24 additional chapters being written.