Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jack noticed movement in the corn stalks, heard light crunching from multiple directions. He aimed his sights at the nearest one. “Don’t move or I’ll shoot.”

The underfoot noise ceased, and a gruff voice called out, “Put your guns down, there’s more of us than there are of you.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Jack mumbled.

But a different voice responded. “Just give us your wallets and we’ll be on our way.”

“Yeah, don’t think so,” he called defiantly.

He heard the distinct clack of a slide racking from somewhere in the stalks. Amateurs.

Sam shot before he’d even identified the source.

“OW!! Son of a…” then a thud on the ground. He and Teal’c rushed simultaneously from their perches. Sam was still crouched just behind the right rear bumper, gun trained on a bulky man sprawled on his back. He heard a loud “Oof” as Teal’c dropped someone else in the distance, no shots needed.

A younger man, taller but thinner, appeared behind the one Sam shot. He had a gun in his hand, not yet raised. He was just staring at him menacingly.

“Drop it,” Jack ordered, his own weapon trained on the man’s chest. Emboldened, the man waved his gun but then rushed toward him. Jack shot, but the man kept coming. Just then, the truck door swung forcefully open, the bottom edge catching the man’s shins. Daniel emerged and pointed his zat at him where he'd landed on his stomach in the grass.

“Don’t move!” he shouted. Unfamiliar with zat'nik'tels, the man rolled, and lifted his arm. Daniel shot and the man convulsed.

“Or get zatted, your choice,” Daniel deadpanned. He snagged the gun from limp fingers.

Planned or fortuitous, Jack couldn’t help but grin with pride at his space monkey’s timing. The air was suddenly less heavy, the stalks calm, but he scanned the field anyway, ready for more threats to emerge. Sam and Daniel still had their weapons trained, so he lowered his slightly. He pulled a flashlight from his pocket and shone it along the edge of the road.

“Teal’c,” he called out.

“Here, O’Neill.” He emerged from the field dragging a half-conscious body. Now aided by light, Sam moved forward to grab a pistol from the ground and pass it back to Jack.

The body next to it rolled over and moaned. “He shot me.”

“She shot you,” Jack emphasized, then taunted, “You got shot by a girl.”

Sam snorted. As she approached her target and holstered her own weapon, Jack trained his more fully on the large lump of a man with a bullet hole in his shoulder.

“Roll over on your stomach,” Sam ordered.

 “Daniel, grab those zip ties out of the toolbox,” Jack called out. Daniel scanned the scene and nodded before returning to the truck. Sam had straddled the guy and was busy yanking his arms behind his back.

“Ouch!”

“Hold still, pansy,” she admonished.

Jack laughed more fully then, genuinely amused by his second, but also a little off kilter from the impending adrenaline dump. He was getting too old for this.

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“Thanks, Jack, we’ve been trying to catch these guys for months. We should have you come to town more often.”

The Lake County sheriff was the latest in a line of law enforcement personnel to assess the scene and congratulate them. Daniel realized then he should have just said “Jack O’Neill” to the 911 operator. Apparently, he knew everyone in the surrounding area, from the paramedics that had toted off the injured would-be bandits, to the Two Harbors police officers that had been happy to shove the remaining felon in the back of their squad car, to the Minnesota state trooper that had arrived from Duluth to confirm his own warrants.

“I have a good team,” Jack replied. His smile was thin, face stoic.

They’d been in worse fights, even on Earth. It seemed to Daniel that Jack’s mind was elsewhere. His role had changed considerably since he’d replaced Hammond, and he had turned to them for advice more in the past year than in the preceding seven. There was a crack in his bravado, despite their recent victories. Perhaps his Atlantis request was ill-timed.

“Looks like it,” the sheriff continued. “Listen, you all need a ride to your cabin? We’ll tow your truck in for you.”

“Nah, we have plans. I was thinking we might try to change both tires tonight. I already have a full-sized spare. I just need another.”

Daniel wasn’t aware they had plans, but he nodded alongside Jack, his only contribution to the conversation thus far. The backup was instinctive - they could sort out the details later.

The sheriff nodded. “I understand. Jerry owes me a favor, and luckily, he gave up drinking, so he should be able to bring over a tire from his shop.”

Both men chuckled at that, so Daniel decided to join in. The day’s exhaustion was setting in, delaying his reactions.

“I’d really appreciate it, Brett,” Jack added, clapping him on the shoulder.

The sheriff gave a reciprocal clap. “Sure thing, you guys need help?”

“Nah, you get back to your family, we can handle it.”

“Thanks, again,” Daniel finally spoke up as the sheriff turned to leave. He tipped his hat in response.

Jack turned to his remaining companion, but didn’t speak. Daniel had never seen him look wearier. And this was supposed to be a vacation. He glanced toward the rear of the truck where Sam was still speaking with Two Harbors police. They’d agreed to an informal statement for now, and Jack had vouched for the guys. Still, they’d left Teal’c nearby to guard her in case anyone tried to turn the tables on her good shoot. She was speaking softly, as relaxed as one could be after such an incident, and the officer she spoke with seemed completely in awe of her. Daniel chuckled. Nothing to worry about there. But he was still concerned for her after the whole ordeal.

“You gonna check on her?” Daniel asked.

Jack nodded and started to walk off but paused. He looked Daniel in the eye and gripped his upper arm briefly. “Thanks.”

The word conveyed more meaning than a speech. The guy who’d rushed Jack had been some kind of local militia wannabe. He’d been wearing a vest, which is why Jack’s shots only delayed rather than stopped him. No one was really sure why he had rushed Jack rather than shooting, maybe to get a closer shot in the dark? The guy seemed more off-kilter than the others. Daniel had only seen movement he knew wasn’t from his team, so he’d chosen that moment to thrust his door open.

“You’re welcome,” Daniel offered. He was concerned for Jack, as well, but sensed there was no cracking his bravado while he was still in commanding officer mode.

Jack handed him the card the sheriff had given him. “Will you get an ETA from the tire guy?”

“Sure.” Then Daniel ducked his head in Sam’s direction. Jack took a steadying breath and walked toward her.

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Though he'd spent extensive time on Earth, Teal’c still didn’t fully comprehend the bureaucracy of law enforcement. When the officer asked Colonel Carter for her weapon for evidence, he nearly pounced on the guy before he saw her steadying hand. The officer eyed him warily.

“It’s…uh… just standard procedure. We’ll expedite the process and have it back to you before you leave for Colorado.”

Despite not understanding her acquiescence, Teal’c didn’t second guess her when she pulled it from her holster, cleared it, and handed it to the officer.

The general was approaching, and since he didn’t protest either, Teal’c relaxed slightly.

Jack reached out to shake the officer’s hand. “Thanks, Nathan. Call us as soon as you’re finished.” It sounded like an order. The officer nodded.

“Absolutely, Jack.” He turned to Sam. “Good evening, ma’am, thank you for speaking with me and…nice work.” He grinned. “Night fellas,” he called out as he returned to his vehicle.

Jack addressed Sam. “All good?”

Teal’c wasn’t sure his friend had left room for her to say otherwise, but he remained silent.

Sam blew out a breath. “Yeah, thanks.” There was a layer of anxiety to her exhaustion. Jack continued.

“I know an OSI guy in St. Paul. I left a message to make sure we’re all squared away.”

She visibly relaxed. “Thanks, Jack.”

Teal’c couldn’t stop his own eyebrow from rising. Perhaps more had occurred between them of late than he’d realized. There was a brief awkward silence.

“Never a dull moment,” Jack announced finally.

“We seem to attract it,” Sam responded.

“Yeah.”

Teal’c merely nodded in agreement.

“Good shoot, by the way,” Jack added.

“Indeed.” Teal’c smiled his approval. She’d played her part perfectly. Their ambush tactics didn’t always work out so well.

“Thanks.” She accepted their praise reluctantly.

“Okay?” Jack asked.

“It just…feels different on this side of the gate.”

“Mmm,” Jack hummed, “Fog of war and all that?”

Teal’c was unfamiliar with the phrase, but he could surmise its meaning.

“I guess,” she answered after a pause. The silence returned, thoughts drifting through the air to continue their conversation for them. The three remained that way until a tow truck pulled up.

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Jerry dropped off an extra spare and a set of tools. He’d offered to help change the tires, but Jack had waved him off, loathe to interrupt yet another person’s holiday evening. They dismissed most of the LEOs, as well, but the trooper had insisted on remaining behind as backup. He ran minimal lights on his SUV to alert passersby to the stopped vehicle. Teal’c positioned himself on the shoulder in front of the truck to monitor the north side.

Daniel also offered to help them with the tires, but while they were removing tools from the truck, he began sharing his extensive knowledge of the history of ancient wheels. When Jack’s phone rang, he tossed it to Daniel.

“Hammond,” he offered by way of explanation.

“What am I, your personal assistant?” Daniel asked before accepting the call. Jack just shrugged.

“Good evening, sir,” he answered. Then, in Daniel fashion, began to pace excitedly as he recounted the tale.

Jack returned to the passenger side where Sam was struggling with the lug nuts she’d insisted on removing. He knew she was the most efficient of them at all things mechanical, but she was also exhausted. And stubborn to a fault. He attempted levity.

“You want me to grab Teal’c? He doesn’t know as much as Daniel about wheels, but he can muscle his way through most anything.”

“No,” she grimaced, “I need the outlet.”

“Ah.”

She jerked the wrench fruitlessly. The last nut would not budge. He slowly lowered himself to the ground behind her, testing his knee. He knew better than to take it from her, so he merely placed his hands alongside hers. She froze for a moment. Then, without speaking, they began to turn the iron together. It started to move, then stopped.

“One, two, three…” he called, leaning into her as they turned. The nut loosened, and they relaxed. He released the iron and she set it on the ground. She leaned forward against the tire, drained. He sat on the ground to get off his nearly good knee. Then scooted around with his back against the running board, left thigh resting against her foot.

“Hammond asked me to come to DC,” he blurted before thinking.

She looked up, eyes wild, black soot on her forehead.

“And you’re considering it?” she accused.

He thought it a bit hypocritical considering the scuttlebutt on her own prospects, but couldn’t muster the energy to be angry with her.

“Hammond’s retiring,” he offered. “He said he didn’t trust anyone else to do the job.”

“And when are you planning to retire?”

That wasn’t what she was asking, and they both knew it, but neither dared to elaborate. They just stared at each other in the near darkness, spent.