They decided to lay down after ordering dinner, knowing it would take about an hour to get there. Jack had slid on some boxers so he'd be able to answer the door but Sam didn't bother. Naked and wrapped in his arms, she couldn't remember the last time she felt this content and sated; although the mind-blowing sex might've had something to do with that.
An hour later she woke up rubbing her eyes groggily, trying to place the sound that had disrupted her nap; only to find Jack staring at her and smiling, "Hey there," he rumbled. She smiled back lazily and he thumbed to the door, "I've gotta get that." Oh yeah, she was practically on top of him. Now placing the sound she'd heard as the doorbell; she felt her face flush as she rolled off of him and heard him chuckle as he got out of bed and made his way to the front door.
Moaning and stretching, her growling stomach was the only thing that motivated her to get up. She walked to his closet and grinned, pulling one of his hockey jerseys down off of the hanger and putting it on. It hung comically loose on her, the hem stopping at mid-thigh.
Walking into the kitchen, she saw him pulling the containers out of the bag and came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her ear against the base of his neck. She felt the vibration resonate through her as he hummed, "I could get used to that." He turned into her arms and his eyes widened immediately.
"I borrowed your jersey, hope that's okay," she smiled.
His sly grin was instantaneous and he pulled her into his arms, "Are you kidding? That's hot." When his hands rode up her thighs, and he gripped her bare ass, his smile disappeared; realizing she was naked underneath. She felt the evidence of his arousal hardening against her hip and bit her lip, surprised at his recovery time.
He heard her stomach growl audibly and groaned, leaning in to bury his face in her neck. "We should get you fed before I lose control here," his voice muffled before lifting his head with a frustrated sigh.
She chuckled and put her arms around his neck loosely, "That's just a warning growl, I can stave off real starvation for at least a few more hours."
He shook his head with a smile as he wrapped his hands around her forearms, pulling them down gently, "Oh no, you're not starving on my watch." He leaned down for a short kiss, "Come on, let's eat."
They were just finishing up when Jack's phone rang. He answered, hoping it was Maybourne, "O'Neill."
"Samantha Carter please," the voice answered back.
He frowned. Only the officer who had responded to the burglary would have known to use his number to contact her. He handed her the phone, "It's for you."
Surprised, she put the phone to her ear, "Hello?"
"Hello ma'am, this is Detective Jackson of the CSPD. We have some information concerning your case and was wondering if you wouldn't mind coming down to the precinct to answer some questions."
She looked over at the clock on the wall, 2125hrs, "Now?"
"Yes ma'am, if you wouldn't mind…the sooner the better."
Seeing the concern in Jack's eyes, she stood up, "Um, okay…it's the precinct on Derry Street, right?"
"Yes ma'am, you can respond to the front desk, and the Sergeant will ring me when you get here."
She said okay, closed the phone and looked at it. "What's going on?"
Jack's voice pulled her from her daze and she looked at him, "They want me to come down to the station, said something about having some information on the case."
He looked at her warily, "It's pretty late, couldn't it have waited until tomorrow?"
She shook her head, "Apparently not, the detective said the sooner the better."
Jack nodded and stood up, "Okay, well let's get changed…I'm going with you."
She gave him a small smile; grateful she hadn't had to ask. She couldn't tell if it was the sound of the detective's voice or the way he asked her to come downtown, but something didn't feel right.
It took them forty minutes to get to the precinct, and after they walked in, they headed to the front desk directly ahead. A female Sergeant came around a standing desk nearby and asked how she could help them. Sam answered, "Detective Jackson please."
The desk Sergeant pointed to some chairs hugging the left side of the foyer, "Sure, just have a seat, he'll be right with you."
It wasn't long after they sat down that a short, stocky man wearing a light grey suit a size too small, walked through one of the interior doors. He was clean shaven and his thin hair was combed back; an obvious last-ditch attempt to hide his impending baldness. The detective eyed Jack quickly as he walked up before turning his attention to Sam, "Ms. Carter?"
Both Jack and Sam stood, "Yes," she answered.
He stuck out his hand, "I'm Detective Jackson, thanks for coming down on such short notice." She shook his hand as he looked at Jack. When she let go, he offered his hand up to Jack next, "And you are?"
Jack shook his hand firmly, "Colonel Jack O'Neill. Two Ls"
"Colonel?" He tilted his head curiously.
"Air Force," Jack answered as his hand flipped between him and Sam, "we both are."
"Ah," the Detective's eyebrows came together, and it seemed like the information held more importance than it should. Surely, he'd dealt with plenty of military in this town. "Well Colonel, you can wait here if you'd like."
"No, I wouldn't…like," Jack finished with a smirk.
The Detective glanced at Sam uncomfortably, and Sam spoke up, "Colonel O'Neill is a co-worker and a friend, I'd like him to come with me."
Jackson managed a tight smile, "Of course, right this way."
He led them back to an office, stopping to grab a spiral notebook and a file off of a desk before leading them down a hallway into a small room. "Just have a seat and I'll be right with you."
Sam frowned; the interview room reminded her of the ones she'd seen on late night crime tv shows. One metal table, three metal chairs. A one-way mirror. Her eyes landed on the thick metal ring attached to the desk, usually used to handcuff prisoners. When she glanced at Jack, she noticed his jaw was clenched, "I don't like this," he grumbled.
Sam sat in the single chair facing the door and Jack stayed standing, pacing slow behind her like a tiger in a cage.
When the door opened again, Detective Jackson walked in toting another metal chair. Another Detective, an thin attractive Hispanic female wearing a black suit followed behind him. Sam noticed that both detectives seemed like they had some time on the job, guessing them to be in their late forties. "This is Detective Fernandez, she's assisting in the investigation," Jackson said as he sat the extra chair down and scooted it next to Sam.
When Sam smiled politely and said hello, Detective Fernandez didn't respond, only bothering to nod as she sat down; eyeing up Jack suspiciously. Jack didn't bother with any greeting and just stood there; his arms crossed over his chest as he stared back at both of them.
Jack broke the silence, "Alright, so what's going on? What is this?"
The detectives looked at each other, "I'll get to that Colonel, just have a seat," Jackson said as he flipped open his notebook and retrieved his ball point from his jacket pocket.
"I'll stand. Get on with it."
Sam spoke up, "I don't see why all of this is necessary for a simple burglary."
Jackson cleared his throat and opened his file, "Ma'am, it says here you were engaged to Detective Shanahan, is that correct?"
Sam looked noticeably confused, "Well yes, but what does that have to do with anything? Unless…do you think he's the one that broke into my house? I mean he does have a key but…," she let the sentence hang, waiting for a sign from either of them that she was on the right track.
Jackson exchanged a glance with Fernandez before facing Sam, "Ma'am I regret to inform you that Detective Shanahan was found beaten to death in his apartment this afternoon."
Sam's mouth dropped open, and she raised her hand to cover it, "What? Oh my God," she whispered. Sam felt Jack's supportive hand on her shoulder as her eyes began to water.
Detective Jackson clicked the tip of his pen as he watched her intently. Jack noticed, realizing quickly the detective was gauging her reaction, and then everything came into focus like the twist of a camera lens ring.
Jack glared at him, feeling his stomach tighten. The interrogation room, the Good cop, Bad cop routine; they thought Sam had something to do with Pete's death. It was common knowledge that the primary suspect for most non-drug related homicides, was the victim's domestic partner. His mind re-wound the moments since they had walked into the station; Jackson eyeing him up, his reaction at their military status, and the suspicious look he received from Fernandez as she was clearly trying to determine the extent of his involvement. Even now he saw Fernandez looking at his hand on Sam's shoulder. But the damage was done, so he left it there defiantly.
Sam had zoned out as silent tears streamed down her face, oblivious to their scrutiny as her glassy eyes stared blankly ahead; her mind cocooned in a layer of shock as her hand dropped slowly from her mouth and into her lap.
Jack didn't know how to feel about Pete's death exactly. He'd just slept with Sam mere hours ago and even now, as she cried over her ex-fiancé, he wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her.
Detective Jackson cleared his throat unapologetically, "I'm sorry for your loss Ms. Carter but there are some questions I have to ask you." Nothing about his tone indicated he was sorry for anything, and if he was supposed to be the Good cop in this shit show, Jack thought he was doing a lousy job.
Sam nodded slowly, her head dropping as she wiped away the dampness under her eyes with the backs of her hands.
"When's the last time you saw Detective Shanahan?"
She struggled to think. So many things had happened; it was yesterday wasn't it? "Um, yesterday evening," she managed with a wet sniff, "at my house."
Detective Jackson wrote down some notes, "Uh huh, and about what time was that?"
Her eyes wandered the room vacantly, until she remembered looking at her clock in the bedroom, "Um, around midnight."
Jackson nodded, circling the number twelve he had written on his notepad. He paused and looked at Sam, waiting for her to make eye contact. When she did, Jack watched Jackson lean forward slightly and spoke slowly, "And... what happened when he was there? Did you two argue?"
Sam straightened when she felt Jack's hard squeeze on her shoulder. The fog lifted as her eyes darted between the two detectives, the implication of the questions sinking in; first looking confused, then pissed. Her eyebrows knitted together, "Wait, do you think I had something to do with Pete's murder?"
Jack smirked and dropped his hand; knowing what that tone meant. They didn't have a clue who they were messing with.
For the first time, Detective Fernandez spoke, her voice demanding, "Just answer the question Ms. Carter."
Sam stood up; her teeth clenched as she stared back at the detective.
"Ms. Carter, please have a seat," Detective Jackson's said coldly.
Sam put her hands on the desk and leaned forward, her voice quivering as she glared at him, "That's Major Carter, and you can go to hell."
Detective Fernandez scoffed and Sam turned her head quickly to stare her down. The corners of Jack's mouth twitched as he watched Sam visibly sizing the detective up; her hands balling into fists on the desk as she leaned over further. The message that Sam was contemplating kicking her ass came through loud and clear. Fernandez's smarmy smile faded quickly, and when she shifted in her seat and looked away, Sam turned her attention back to Jackson. "Am I under arrest?"
Jackson cleared his throat uncomfortably, "No."
"So, I'm free to go," She said curtly, already knowing the answer. They didn't have anything. They were fishing.
Jackson huffed out a breath, "Yes Major, but there are questions that we need answered. We're trying to solve a homicide here… of one of our own."
Sam pushed back the chair the rest of the way with the backs of her knees and briskly headed to the door, feeling Jack fall in step behind her. As she opened the door, she turned her head as she walked through and yelled back angrily, "Well I'll save you some time, you're looking in the wrong place!"