A/N: There are no specific TWs for this chapter.
Sam rode in silence as Jack drove through the streets of downtown Colorado Springs. She wasn't sure what to say to break the silence. She'd gone over his head by calling in General Hammond. It didn't matter that he was her godfather or that he'd come to support her in a so-called non-military capacity. The truth was, she was afraid Jack had put himself in harm's way to protect her, and while she had proof her fear was correct, she also knew she'd likely crossed a line.
"Want to grab some takeout?" Jack asked, breaking the silence and startling her out of her thoughts.
"Yah, sure," she responded louder than necessary, drawing a side-eye from him.
"You okay?" He asked as they pulled up to a stoplight. It was a nice evening despite the winter chill in the air. Sam looked out the window at the local skating rink with some sadness. She wouldn't make it this year. "Carter?" He said again.
"I'm sorry I went over your head," she responded, still looking out the window. "I know how you feel about the chain-of-command." Sighing, she glanced forward. "Light's green."
The car lurched, making Jack grumble at his uneasy acceleration. "What are you talking about?"
"As soon as you left the house, I called General Hammond," Sam confessed.
Jack put on his turn signal and pulled into a shopping plaza. When the car rolled to a stop in a parking spot, he turned to her. "I'm glad you called him," he said. "You needed someone in your corner."
"You aren't mad?"
"Of course not," he looked at her bewildered. "Why would I be upset that you called your godfather for support? Heck, I wanted to call him from the beginning."
"But I went outside our chain of command," she argued, "didn't trust you to handle things."
"This isn't some SGC mission," Jack gave her a lopsided grin. "This is you we're talking about. And from where I'm sitting, good ole Uncle George came in pretty handy today. I don't know about you, but I really enjoyed seeing the chief of police squirm."
Sam let out a giggle in spite of her emotions. It had been quite a spectacle to see the General in action. He cut through a bunch of red tape with one visit, not to mention saved Jack from a particularly dangerous situation.
"I can't believe Pete assaulted you," Sam growled. "Wait. Yes I can. That man is a monster. How did I not see it before?" Her anger at herself grew once again.
"He fooled a lot of people," Jack speculated, trying to assuage some of Sam's misplaced guilt.
"Not you," Sam let out a deep sigh. "I remember you weren't particularly happy when General Hammond authorized him to be read into the program."
"Yes, well," Jack hedged. There was a lot more to it than a simple dislike of the man. It had been more about jealously than anything. "It doesn't matter because it's over now. So let me ask again. Takeout?"
"Sure," Sam nodded, happy the air was cleared. "That new Golden China place is supposed to have good hibachi chicken."
"I'm game," he shifted the truck into drive. "You know where it is?"
"Yup," Sam laughed and pointed to the building in front of them. She laughed again when Jack made a show of shifting the truck back into park.
"You want your usual?" He asked, opening his door. "Two spring rolls, please," she amended her typical Chinese cuisine order.
"You gonna be okay sitting here for a minute?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, sir, I can handle fifteen minutes alone in a truck. I promise, I'm not that incapable."
Jack nodded. "Keys are in the ignition. Honk if you need anything," he added, then slammed the door and jogged across the parking lot.
Sam flipped on the radio and scanned the channels looking for an upbeat station. She felt freer than she had in a long time, despite her injuries. With a smile on her face, she settled for Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive," not missing the lack of subtly in her choice. As she sang the third refrain all the hair on the back of her neck stood on end at a sudden feeling of being watched. Her head swiveled in all directions as she scanned her surroundings. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but she still reached over and locked the driver's side door, then her own.
As Gloria's strong vocals gave way to the immediately recognizable opening beat to "Eye of the Tiger," Sam forced herself to relax. She'd been through a lot over the past few days and that must be what had her on edge. With a warrant out for Pete's arrest, he would be picked up shortly, if he wasn't already in custody. Come Monday, she would call a lawyer and start the official process of obtaining a restraining order, but given the almost ironclad case against him, she didn't think it would be necessary. Pete would be behind bars for a while and Hyme was too much of a chicken to do anything on his own.
"Carter, open up," Jack tapped on the window, making Sam jerk around.
"Ouch!" She yelped as her thigh protested the sudden movement. Reaching to his door, she pulled up the lock. "Sorry," she winced in pain, rubbing her thigh muscle as he climbed into the cab.
"You alright?" He handed her the food. "And I don't just mean your thigh. Something spook you?" Jack glanced around.
"Just me being overly cautious," she grimaced. "I think I'm going to be on edge for a while."
"Understandable," Jack started the truck and headed toward his house. "You wanna talk to someone?"
"God, no," she replied instantly and Jack laughed. They definitely were alike in their hatred of shrinks.
"Well, maybe consider talking to Janet," Jack offered. "I'm sure she understands." He didn't know much about Janet's ex-husband, but he'd heard the guy was a bad egg. He'd stopped short of physical assault, but Jack had it on good authority the guy was an emotional abuser.
"I will," Sam promised. "But right now, I really just want to stuff my face with Chinese food and fall into a carb coma."
"Now that sounds like a plan," he grinned as they turned down the road that would take them home.
Pete stayed in the shadows as he watched Jack's truck disappear around the corner with Sam in the passenger seat. She'd made a fool out of him. Again. Sam and her entire team had made him the laughingstock of the CSPD.
First, she drew him in with her cloak and dagger routine, forcing him to run a background check on her just to get answers. That only made him more determined to unravel the mystery she'd wrapped herself in. When he'd finally risked his life to uncover her secret, she'd sunk her claws into him even deeper by telling him about her Stargate program. Who wouldn't become obsessed with a woman who quite literally made people believe she saved the planet on a routine basis. Hell, for a while, even he believed it.
But then he'd found out the truth. That she had never intended to be his. It was all an elaborate ruse. She was simply playing him. Stringing him along until he gave up his life in Denver for her. Sure, she'd never outright asked him to move, but that was just part of the ploy. Make him think it was all his idea, all the while plotting behind his back.
The lie of her injuries at the hands of the so-called Super Soldier was the final straw. While she wanted him to believe she'd been off fighting for her life, Pete knew better. She'd been holed up somewhere with O'Neill; probably screwing his brains out every night while Pete had been at home worried sick about her. Fucking bitch.
Well, she wouldn't get away with this. She needed to drop the charges she filed against him, then maybe he'd forgive her. Maybe. Unfortunately, as long as O'Neill was alive, Sam could never be Pete's. Her CO had some sort of unnatural hold over her. But he'd sever that hold and then she would see. She belonged to him.