AN: Thanks again for all the support on this story. Jack's up for a little more time here. And, alas, must remind you the man can have a mouth. Oh, and there's a reference to the episode Emancipation in this one. No copyright infringement intended.
***SG1***SG1***
Hefting a bag on to his shoulder, Daniel looked over to Sam. "Ready?"
Looking around her quarters, Sam nodded. "You'll check on my house when you get back?"
"Sure," Jackson replied. "If Teal'c and I get pulled onto a mission, I'll have someone stop by." Glancing at the clock, he tipped his head toward the door. "We've got to get moving if we're going to make the transport."
Moving, Sam smiled tightly at him. "Thank you for coming with me. To Bethesda," she clarified.
Shrugging, Daniel walked with her toward the elevator. Slipping his access card back into his pocket, he looked past Sam's shoulder while they waited. His gaze stopped on O'Neill standing down the corridor.
"Thought you'd like the company on the trip," he said, a tight smile on his face. "Doctor Rogers say how long she was going to stay here before she headed back there?"
"Couple days. I'm suppose to start working with one of her assistants tomorrow," she replied, glancing back to see what kept drawing Daniel's attention. A breath hitched in her chest when she saw the Colonel.
"He wanted to go with you," Daniel said softly. "But with everything going on," he trailed off.
"I know," she replied her eyes not leaving Jack. The sound of the elevator arriving registered in her mind as Daniel brushed her arm to tell her it was time to move. Nodding to O'Neill, she caught the slight movement of his hand telling her goodbye.
***SG1***SG1***
"You wanted to see me Sir?"
"Jack. Come in," Hammond called, waving him towards a chair. Waiting until he was settled, he set aside the file he had been reviewing. "I won't keep you long. I know you have a meeting with Doctor Rogers this morning."
Acknowledging the appointment, Jack added, "What can I do for you Sir?"
Letting out a breath, Hammond said, "I need your field notes."
"Sir?"
"For the mission reviews," the General clarified. "I need to compare them to the reports to see if anything of relevance was omitted."
Shifting, Jack looked away. "You realize there's not going to be much on a couple of them, especially this last one."
"I understand," George acknowledged. "Actually it's the missions that didn't go to hell that I've been asked to review the hardest."
A tic flickered in Jack's cheek. "Making you go all out aren't they," he said quietly, dark sarcasm skating the edges of his tone. Knowing that any denial of access to his personal mission notes or delay in turning them over could ultimately be held against Carter, Jack swallowed. Raising his gaze from his hands, he straightened his shoulders. "I'll have them brought to you sir."
***SG1***SG1***
"How did Sam get the cut on her arm?" Rogers asked, watching O'Neill play with a loose thread on the arm of his chair. "I don't remember anything about knives being in play at any time."
Jack shook his head. "No knives," he said softly. Looking away, he swallowed. "We'd been in that room for a couple days. Carter was just starting to settle down. Not jumping at every noise." He glanced at the doctor to see if she was following what he was trying to say.
"Less panicked?" Rogers offered.
"Yeah," Jack replied licking his lips. Clearing his throat, he continued. "A guy brought us some water and something to eat. There was only one of them.. Guess they thought we weren't going to give them any more problems."
"Is that when you escaped?"
Jack shook his head. "Wasn't ready. It had always been at least two others with him before, and Carter..." He stopped what he was going to say, his eyes, darting away from her.
"Sir, anything you say here is confidential." A look of disbelief passing over Jack's features had her adding, "The SGC isn't the only place where more is left out of reports than what is put into them. I'm more likely to document observations, concepts discussed and your emotional well-being than specific details of what you tell me."
A frown crossed Jack's features. "You understand that this," he gestured to indicate the room, the event, "could be used against me?"
"I understand," she said, nodding slowly. Leaning forward, she glanced at her hands before looking up. "Jack," she began to get his attention. "I'm not here to hurt your career or judge your relationship with your second in command. I am here to help you work through what happened to you and Sam. I can't do that unless you trust me," she added gently. Tiffany stayed still as deep brown eyes assessed her. She knew he had made some sort of decision when there was a subtle shift in his breathing.
When he began talking, his voice was low, rough. "The first time I really saw Carter fight hand to hand, it was on some backwater planet after she had been kidnapped and beaten. Some kid had tried to trade her for a girl he was in love with. The girl's dad was some wanna be bad ass who got off hurting women," he explained at Roger's raised eyebrow. "We got her back before he partook in his newest treasure," Jack's voice was derisive, dark, as it mimicked the words from long ago. A slight shudder ran through him before he continued. "She insisted we return to the camp when she learned good old dad was going to stone his daughter to death in punishment." Jack looked away and shook his head at the memory. Clearing his throat, a smile pulled on his lips. "She kicked his ass."
"She can handle herself in other words."
Jack looked back at her. "Oh yeah. Since then, she's gotten even better."
"So you were waiting for her to feel better to try to escape?"
A frown pulled on his features. "Down there," he began again, his eyes taking on a far away glaze, "that wasn't the Carter I know," he said slowly. "There was no fight in her," he added, his voice conveying sorrow.
Nodding, Rogers shifted. "They took it from her," she said softly. When Jack looked at her, a question in his countenance, she explained. "That drug essentially stuck her in a fight or flight mode. She had tried fighting before and that didn't stop what happened. So, in her mind, flight became the only option."
Licking his lips, Jack breathed out. "After the one guy brought us the food, I decided that we were going to be ready just in case they slipped up again. When it was near time for him to come, I made Carter go across the room, away from me." A wince passed across his face.
"She didn't want to help get away?" Roger's asked to keep him going as much as to understand what he was trying to get at.
"She did, but I asked a helluva lot from her to do it." Glancing at her, he continued. "I needed him to come into the room far enough to give me time to confirm no one else was in the hallway and get back to get ahold of him."
"You used Sam to lure him," Tiffany surmised.
"I ordered her to get back on the table." The words came out slow, broken. Roger's sharply drawn in breath confirmed for him how fucked up his actions had been.
When she spoke, her tone was carefully modulated. "The table where she had been tied down and raped."
Jack looked down and confirmed her statement with a small nod, emotional pain etching across his face. "Going to hell for that one alone," he breathed out, regret and resignation in his tone.
"Tied down?"
"No," Jack barked back, a glare snapping up toward the doctor. "God, doc, what kind of monster do you think I am?"
Roger sent a silent apology to the Colonel. Letting a slow breath out, she took a moment to pretend to make a notation on the paper below her hand. The thought of what Sam must have been feeling almost overwhelmed her. Forcing her body to relax into the chair, she used the cold metal to ground herself. Clearing her throat, she continued. "And it worked? He came in. Did he cut her? Is that how she got it?"
"No." The retort was sharp, immediate. "He didn't touch her," Jack stated, his voice firm. "No way in hell that was going to happen. I snapped his neck before he was halfway across the room." The words held no regret. "She cut her arm getting off the table to get away." He paused, swallowing. "Away from me," he breathed.
"Did she say that?" The words were gentle. A sharp shake of his head had her adding, "So that was your interpretation of what she was doing?"
A wince crossed his features, before a hand swept over them. "I guess," he breathed. "I grabbed her and shoved her from the room."
Looking down at her paper, Tiffany licked her lips before she spoke. "Was she scared of you before? When you were in the room for those two days?"
A frown crossed Jack's face.
"Did she cower away from you? Hide? Try to fight you in any way?"
"No," Jack answered, confusion as to the relevance of her questions in his voice. His body felt the residual memory of her pressed into his side for comfort and warmth.
A slight smile pulled on Roger's features. "Colonel, trust me when I tell you that Sam did not, does not," she amended her words, "fear you in anyway."
A frown pulled on Jack's face. Looking down, he shrugged. "If Carter doesn't remember, I guess we'll never know."
"Sir," Tiffany said gently. "Major Carter knew you had to use whatever tactical advantage you could get and she trusted you to not allow anything else to happen to her. Otherwise she would have never gotten on that table again no matter how much you ordered her to do so." She slowly shook her head. "That in of itself is the very definition of not fearing you."
Tiffany was unsure if her words were making any impact until brown eyes darted back to her, a small ember of hope beginning to flicker in their depths.
***SG1***SG1***
"O'Neill."
"Hey Teal'c," Jack greeted the Jaffa before turning back to punch the elevator button again.
"You are returning to your home?" Teal'c inquired, noting the civilian clothes.
"Free at last," Jack quipped, his gaze on his foot as it scuffed on the spotless floor.
Running assessing eyes over the younger man, Teal'c's eyes narrowed at the fatigue and emotions Jack was trying to hide behind a false facade. Making up his mind, he clasped his hands behind his back and turned his gaze toward the closed doors. "I shall accompany you."
The words startled Jack. "Excuse me?"
"I shall accompany you to your home," Teal'c repeated easily.
Jack looked away to hide the irritation passing through him. "That's not necessary," he muttered. "I'm fine."
"You are."
Ignoring the words said, Jack continued. "Look, all I want is to kick back, have a drink, watch a little tv, sleep in my own bed. Is that too much to ask?"
Hearing the annoyance in his friend's voice, the Jaffa glanced at him to determine how much of it was real. "It is not. However, I believe the saying is, it's not all about you, O'Neill." Feeling Jack still at the words, he continued. "I too wish to leave this facility for a time."
"Oh," Jack breathed, his irritation draining from him. He hadn't considered that. It wasn't as if the big guy could leave anytime he wanted. "Er... Yeah, sure." Hearing the ding of the elevator to announce its arrival, he blew out a breath. "Need anything before we go?" He asked lightly, a pinch of fake solicitousness in his tone.
A smile pulled on Teal'c lips at the glimmer of the classic O'Neill mannerism.
***SG1***SG1***
Coming into the command area, Hammond nodded in greeting to Master Sergeant Walter Harriman. "Any word?"
"No Sir," Walter replied solemnly. "SG-3 is now four hours overdue."
Frowning, George looked about the window toward the Stargate. Leave it to the irony of the universe that the two Pentagon officers sent to judge his officers and by extension his operation of the facility to be killed on his watch. "Dial the gate Sergeant. Let's see if they are in radio range."
"Yes, Sir," Walter acknowledged his fingers dancing over the keyboard to dial. After a few moments, he indicated the seventh chevron had locked and a wormhole sprang from the large circle.
"SG-3 this is Hammond. Do your read?" Silence met his call. "SG-3 respond."
"Do... read?" Broken words and a faint voice came came with static. "...Command... Read?"
"I'm at maximum gain, Sir," Harriman said softly, telling the General he could do nothing to improve the connection.
"Colonel Reynolds, what is your status?" Hammond called, leaning closer to the microphone.
"...Attack... Injured... Guarded." The sporadic report had the two men sharing concerned glances.
"SG-3, you are breaking up. Only partial message received. Can you give us your location?" The General pressed.
The lone word "clicks," came through among the static.
"Colonel, repeat," Hammond urged. "Message is breaking up, repeat location." Silence met his request. "Damn it," he breathed after a few minutes. "Shut it down Sergeant.
***SG1***SG1***
AN2: Had to have my man Teal'c come in again. Hadn't seen much of him lately. :) And hopefully not too cliche to have SG-3's mission go sour. But, two visiting Colonels needed a little hands on education in my opinion! Enjoy.
