Happily Ever After

by Ryuu

Fandom: SG-1

Rating: PG-13. Violence, langage, depictions of domestic violence

Pairing(s): Sam/Pete, Sam/team, Jack/cake, Daniel/coffee, Sam/Jack

Setting: S8 AU, anytime after "Affinity" but definitely before "Threads."

Distribution: Anywhere as long my name stays on and you drop me an email about it.

Feedback: Please! I'll accept it gladly.

Notes: This was written as a somewhat tongue-in-cheek response to the number of horribly-written "Pete is physically-abusive and Jack has to come in to rescue Sam and give her Healing Sex!" fics out there.

Because, yeah, of course Sam, the trained soldier who's achieved level three advanced on hand-to-hand combat training all the way back in the first season and had spent the past eight years traveling around the galaxy with Jack O'Neill and Teal'c, would turn into a weepy damsel-in-distress and let some two-bit detective from Denver beat the crap outta her on a regular basis. I don't plan on naming names because, well, you guys all know who you are and the very existence of this fic is likely flamebait enough.

Anyway, the majority of the thanks or blame for this should probably go to Lyssie. Enjoy!


A resounding slap of flesh meeting flesh at a high velocity resounded through her living room and Sam stumbled back, staring at her fiancé in frozen shock.

"You hit me." She touched her cheek where she could already feel a small welt forming.

"Sam…" Pete lowered his fist, his eyes wide. "I…it was an-"

"You hit me," she interrupted, her voice louder this time.

"Baby, I didn't mean to-"

Sam's right hook hit his jaw with a satisfying crunching noise.

"Don't 'baby' me, you son of a bitch," she said, her voice dangerously calm.

"I...I didn't mean to hit you," he managed to get out, feeling his jaw and stunned that it wasn't broken.

"You're damn right you didn't." Her voice was still calm, although her eyes smoldered. "Now, the way I see it, you've got two options here, Pete. Either you leave right now, and never come near me again."

"...or?"

Her voice became lower and even more dangerous. "Or you don't leave at all."

Pete swallowed and backed towards the door, snagging his jacket off the couch. "I...Sam, I'm sorry..."

Not taking her eyes from him, she reached down and jerked the ring off her finger, hurling it at him. "Get out of my house. Now."

Pete fled, practically diving into his car and driving away. Sam watched his taillights disappear before she closed the door and locked it, her expression still oddly calm.

She reached out and picked up the phone from its base, dialing a number that she could probably dial in her sleep. After two rings, he picked up.

"O'Neill."

"Sir. Pete's gone."

"Uh...Carter? What?"

"Pete's gone," she repeated, calmly. "He hit me and I told him to go."

"Carter...he hit you?" She could hear sudden fury in his voice.

"That's why I told him to go," she interrupted. "Sir, this could be a security risk."

"Well, I guess, it-for crying out loud, Carter! He hit you!"

"I noticed, sir," she replied dryly.

"Well...are you all right?" he asked hesitantly. "Do I need to come check on you?"

"I'm calling you, aren't I?" she replied, adding a hasty "Sir."

"Oh. Well, I still think you should come in to the SGC."

"You want me to come into work, sir?" Sam was surprised to find she could sound so normal. "Normally, you tell me to go home."

"Indulge me, Carter. I like to make sure my best officers are safe." His tone matched hers for dryness.

"I'm fine, sir."

"Never said you weren't," he answered, mildly.

"As long as you aren't about to turn into Galahad on me..." she muttered.

She could almost visualize his grin as he replied, "Armor? I don't think I could handle the chaffing."

She sighed. "Are you ordering me back to the SGC, sir?"

"I'm requesting you to return," he said, stressing the word. "As a friend."

She sighed again. "I'll be there in forty-five minutes, sir."

"Good. I'll see you then."

"Bye, sir." She set the phone back down, staring at it for a long moment, then she touched her cheek again with a slight wince and went to go pack her duffel bag.


"Sir?"

Jack looked up to find Sam standing in the doorway and forced himself not to go to her, especially when he saw the faint bruise beginning to appear on her cheek. "Carter. Have a seat." He gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"Thank you, sir." She took the seat, outwardly composed, although he noticed how her right hand nervously touched the third finger of her left.

"So…has Dr. Brightman taken a look at that?" he asked, trying not to stare at the bruise.

Sam nodded. "I probably gave Pete worse when I punched him back, sir."

"Good." Jack nodded, fighting the urge to beam proudly at her. Or possibly rip Pete's head off. He sternly pushed down the Neanderthal part of his brain that was grunting at him to defend his woman by reminding it that Carter would kill him if he actually did. Or called her 'his woman' where she could hear him. Not that he was thinking of her as-he gave the thought a hard mental shove away from his conscious. "And, uh, how are you?"

"Fine, sir." She looked away briefly. "I doubt he's coming back."

"Carter-"

"I'll stay here tonight, sir," she conceded. "Just to be sure."

Jack nodded and looked at the pile of paperwork on his desk, making a face. "There's, uh, cake in the mess. You want to go have cake?"

She looked up at him, a small appreciative smile flitting over her face. "What kind of cake?"

"Something with chocolate in it." He pushed his chair away from his desk and stood, holding his hand out to her on a sudden impulse. She allowed him to help her up.

"Let's go have cake, sir."


There was cake. It involved chocolate icing and rainbow sprinkles. The two officers sat down with coffee and an unspoken agreement to only discuss inconsequential matters.

They'd managed to get into a friendly argument over a recent mission when a coffee cup and an agitated archeologist sat down beside Sam, followed by an impassive former Jaffa who chose to take the seat next to Jack.

Daniel tentatively put his arm around Sam's shoulders in a careful hug and asked how she was doing. She smiled faintly at him, not bothering to ask how he and Teal'c knew. After eight years together, no one was surprised by SG-1's apparent ability to read each other's minds.

"I'm fine."

"You sure?" Daniel's eyes lingered over the faint, purpling bruise, worry clear on his face.

She tried not to roll her eyes, although she was touched by his concern. "Yes, Daniel. I'm fine. I've had worse off-world, you know."

"This is different," he muttered, but he released her with a quick final squeeze.

"You made the correct choice, Colonel Carter," Teal'c announced with dignity, gesturing to her now-empty ring finger.

"I would say so!" Daniel exploded, softening his voice after a quick glare from both Sam and Jack. "Any guy who'd do that doesn't deserve to be engaged to Sam."

"I was referring to her restraint in allowing him to live," Teal'c replied, unruffled. "On Chulak, a woman would be well within her rights to kill a man who strikes her in anger."

Sam paused, then started to laugh quietly, something in her loosening up at Teal'c's quiet confidence at her strength and her abilities as a warrior. "Thanks, Teal'c. I needed to hear that."

The former First Prime nodded gravely.

"So, what are we going to do about him?" Daniel asked, frowning. "We can't let him get away with this."

Sam poked him, looking stern. "You aren't doing anything, Daniel. All we're going to do is assess how much of a security risk he is to the SGC."

"But-"

"No." She looked around the table at these three men whom she loved dearly, her expression completely serious. "This is my problem. Let me handle it."

Daniel frowned more, but nodded. "But if you need any help…"
"I'll let you know." She patted his hand and glanced up at Jack.

The General gave her a small smile, wordlessly expressing his complete confidence in her. The warmth brought on earlier by Teal'c's words grew.

"Hey, do they have any more of that?" Daniel asked, pointing at Sam's cake.

She shot him a grateful look for the change of subject. "I think so. You want me to get you a piece?"

"No, I can handle it." He patted her shoulder and stood, walking over to the counter.

"I believe I will also have cake," Teal'c announced, standing. "Would you like another piece, Colonel Carter?"

She grinned. "Nah…gotta keep my girlish figure. But thanks."

Teal'c nodded, touching her shoulder in a rare gesture of affection, and followed Daniel. Sam took another sip of her coffee and glanced over at Jack who was frowning.
"Sir? Something wrong?"
He sighed mournfully. "You guys never offer to get me cake."

"You lead a difficult life, sir," Sam replied, straight-faced.

"I'm glad you appreciate that, Carter," he said with equal aplomb.

Sam shook her head and drank the last of the coffee in her cup. "Actually, I've got a few things to catch up on in the lab while I'm here," she said.

Jack paused with a forkful of cake halfway to his mouth and just looked at her.

"What?" she asked, a bit uncomfortably.

"Do you ever actually stop working, Carter?" The tone was one of exasperated amusement, although she thought she heard an undercurrent of concern in it.

Sam shrugged. "I just don't like to waste my time, sir."

He made a face. "I've noticed. Just don't work too late, Carter. That's an order."

"Yes, sir." She saluted and stood, taking off for Level 19.


"Carter?"

"Hrm?" she replied automatically, far more concerned with the innards of the machine that she was making delicate adjustments to.

"You need to sleep." Now there was less amusement, more exasperation, and the concern was closer to the surface.

She began her traditional protest. "I've got this-"

"Dr. Brightman has some nice big needles," he interrupted. "With sedatives."

Her head came out of the contraption and she stared at him. "You wouldn't."

"It's midnight, Carter."

"Oh..." She looked up at the clock. "I guess it is."

"C'mon." He beckoned to her. "There's a bed out there with your name on it."

She gestured to the cot against the wall. "I was just planning to bunk down in here, sir."

"Not a chance, Carter." He looked determined. "Dr. Brightman wants you to get some rest, and I'm backing her up. Let's go."

Sam sighed, realizing she'd lost. "All right, sir. I'll be ready in a moment." She moved around the lab, powering everything down and putting various tools away. Jack waited patiently by the door.

"Ready?" he asked a few moments later.

She nodded and palmed the light switch off. He gently placed his hand against the middle of her back, guiding her out.

"So, working on anything interesting?"

She smiled. "Everything I work on is interesting, sir."

"How about for those of us who aren't actual geniuses?"

"You mean Felgar, sir?" Sam smirked.

He grinned. "I should tell him you said that, you know."

"Yes, but then I'd have to tell Anise what you said about her…" The smirk grew more pronounced.

Jack shuddered. "Fine. No telling Felgar anything."

"Naquadah reactors," she replied.

"…what?"

"I'm trying to increase the efficiency of the naquadah reactors," she explained patiently.

"Is that actually possible?"
Sam looked determined. "I think it is."

Jack knew better than to argue with her when she started using that tone. And this was Carter. She made things happen. "So, how close are you?"

"Some of the test results looked promising," she replied, running her fingers through her hair and covering a yawn.

"But you're not working on it until you've gotten some sleep, Carter," Jack announced, stopping outside her door and gesturing her inside.

Sam quashed the urge to make a face at her CO and slipped into the tiny half-bath to change into sleeping clothes. "Yes, mom."

"I think I prefer 'sir'," he replied, sounding amused.

Sam peeked out. "Oh, I can add 'sir' to a lot of other names, sir." She smiled.

Jack rolled his eyes. "No respect," he replied in his best Rodney Dangerfield. "I get no respect."

She chuckled and opened the door all the way, now clad in sweatpants and a tank top. "I'm sure you occasionally get some respect, sir."

"Not from Ba'al," he pointed out.

"No, not from Ba'al," she agreed. "But that's why we blow his things up."

"Yep." Jack patted the bed he stood beside and looked at Sam. "Get some sleep, Carter."
"Gonna tuck me in, sir?" she teased, attempting to cover up the sudden nervous fluttering in her stomach.

"If that's what it takes to get you to actually sleep?" He quirked an eyebrow.

"Yessir!" Sam saluted facetiously and slipped under the covers that he thoughtfully held open for her. She relaxed her head against the pillow and closed her eyes. "Night, sir."

"Night, Carter…" He paused for a long moment, then bent in to place a light kiss on her forehead. Her eyes flew open and she looked at the suddenly flustered General.

"Sir…" she breathed.
"Carter - Sam, I-"

She was stunned to see him blushing faintly. "What-" she swallowed, "What was that for, sir?"

"It, uh, seemed like a good idea at the time?" he mumbled.

Her hand shot out, grabbing his collar and pulling him into a longer kiss.

"Carter!" he yelped.

"It was, sir." She smiled.

"G-glad you approve," he replied, gasping a bit. He studied her for a moment as though he'd never seen her before, his fingers hovering tenderly over the bruise on her cheek, then he smoothed a few stray hairs off her forehead and warmly kissed her again. "I'll see you in the morning, Carter."

"You aren't staying?" she whispered, surprised.

"I-" He sighed. "Ca-Sam, as much as I'd like to…I probably shouldn't."

Her sigh echoed his. "I…I think you're right," she acknowledged reluctantly.

Jack touched her cheek and gave her another gentle kiss, sweet and full of promises. "Sweet dreams, Carter," he murmured.

Sam closed her eyes and smiled. "Good night, sir."

She was still smiling as he hit the light switch and slipped quietly from the room.

Jack walked down the corridor to his own on-base quarters, trying to control the enormous grin that kept slipping across his face and grateful that there were very few people wandering this level at this time of night. That had definitely been worth waiting four years for.

He sobered as he began to puzzle out how to deal with Pete-as-a-security-risk. The primal part of brain was still screaming at him to beat the cop into a bloody pulp, but he had promised Sam he wouldn't, and Sam was someone that you kept your promises to.

Jack began thinking over any possible excuses he could have to detain Pete and either convince or frighten him into not telling what he knew. A sudden thought occurred to the General and a positively Grinch-like smile of fiendish glee spread over his face.

He walked off for the control room with a new spring in his step, hoping he could call in a favor or two from their allies. And that he could talk Carter into this.


Detective Pete Shanahan wasn't entirely sure what the hell had just happened. One minute, he'd been getting ready for work in his own home, the next, he was surrounded by a flash of white light and standing on a deserted beach with a small grey being who looked like an extra from the X-Files regarding him.

"Uh…whu…huh…"

"O'Neill suggested I remove you to a deserted island," the being said, "I assumed he was joking."

"Wha...buh...he...uh..."

The alien blinked. "You are not the most articulate member of your species."

"You're an -- alien." Pete stammered, finally.

Thor regarded the man impassively. "Yes, I am."

"Buh...but why me?" Pete managed. "Who are you?"

"I am Thor, Asgard Supreme Commander." The grey alien studied him in what Pete almost thought was disdain. "And you are Colonel Carter's former fiancé. She is a hero to my race."

"Sam?" Pete broke into a sudden cold sweat.

"Indeed," Thor replied, his tone leaving no doubt in Pete's mind that the alien knew exactly why he was a "former" fiancé.

"Um...I..." His throat went dry. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I will be sure to inform Colonel Carter of that," Thor said. "Now, if you will excuse me…"
"Wait! You can't just leave me here!"
"O'Neill requested that I also leave you with basic supplies," Thor answered. "You will not starve."
"But, I…I…you can't!" Pete said, a frightened whinge creeping into his voice.

"I am quite capable of containing a man who would attempt to physically assault Colonel Carter," Thor informed him coldly.

"Someone will notice I'm gone!" Pete cried out, desperately.

"You will not be here forever," Thor said. "You will only remain until you are no longer a security risk to the SGC." He nodded. "I will give you time to think it over."

Pete gaped as the little alien disappeared in a flash of light. He looked around his new lodgings, then resignedly pulled a tent from the pile of supplies, moved to the treeline, and started setting it up. It looked like he was in for a long stay.