December 24th, 2018
Sempera Danielle Peltier was furious. Actually, she was beyond furious and entering the land of absolutely pissed off. And there was nothing she could do about it because no one was paying attention to her and what she had to say. They were all too busy kissing the collective asses of the rich people who had come to get their idiot offspring out of trouble.
With two fathers who had jobs in law enforcement, a squad room was nothing new to her, she had practically grown up in one, but she felt only disgust at this particular one and its occupants. The young woman leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, clutching her backpack and its precious content to her torso. People at NCIS knew better than to take her being deaf as a sign for stupidity, but as soon as she had begun to sign to the first cop she encountered here, they had ceased to take her seriously. Nothing new per se, but it got to her every time.
And then rich and slick parenting types had turned up and things went further downhill. Sam glared at the group at the other end of the room. Two elegantly dressed men and one primly groomed woman were standing around a desk with three officers, all earnest faces and smarmy smiles respectively.
This was one situation where she wished that she hadn’t given in and had instead changed her surname. Her biological Dad, Agent Anthony DiNozzo, had encouraged her to keep the name of her mother's family. She remembered how he had smiled at her warmly, how his big hand had stroked over her shoulders when he explained why. “I would love to have you take my name sweetheart, but there are a lot of people out there who have a grudge against me or Jethro. We don’t have to make it easier for them to connect us.” Jethro was her adopted Daddy and a NCIS Agent himself. Oh yes, criminals and, wait for it, all LEOs in DC knew to fear an encounter with these particular Feds.
Now she had to wait for help to arrive and then… her eyes sought out the one pompous officer who had told her to get out of his way and wait for him to have time for her. Oh yes, the Captain would RUE the day he was born.
It shouldn’t take long; she had sent the message fifteen minutes ago.
Outside snow was falling and darkness had set in. It was supposed to be such a great Christmas Eve. She wanted to be at home, in front of the fireplace with her Dads, enjoying the holiday. But the day had gone wrong from the start, first with some stupid Petty Officer having the bad taste to get himself killed one day before Christmas and Dad being unable to leave the office. Jet decided to help Dad, and Sam had decided to use the time for some last minute shopping.
And then everything had gone to hell in a hand-basket. Why, oh why hadn’t she chosen another mall to search for a little extra something she could lay under their Christmas tree? A mall without those brain-dead boys who didn’t understand the meaning of the word 'no'. Mike Islington and his four sidekicks were the bane of her existence since she'd had the misfortune to meet them. Sam suspected that they only reason they'd gotten into such a great college wasn't their brains, but the thick purses of their parents. Now she had to share chemistry 101 with them, and Mike, the spoiled little bastard, had gotten it into his head that Sam should be his girlfriend. Over her dead body.
And over her, maybe not dead, but injured, body it had nearly been.
.-#-.
Sam should have chosen more sensible footwear. Her aunt Abby might insist that heavy leather boots were the ideal shoes of choice for snowy days, but she had clearly forgotten to mention that you should also make sure that they had soles with rubber treads.
Another icy stretch of sidewalk made the young woman stumble and fight to stay upright. Just a few more steps and she would reach the bus station. If she broke her ankle she would sue the mall, they should see to it that the sidewalks were safe!
And the snow was making things more difficult than necessary. It obscured the dangerous ice patches and made them extra slippery. Sam clutched her parcel, adjusted the straps of her backpack and looked around. It wasn’t that late, but the other customers seemed to prefer their private transportation to public ones and the street was nearly devoid of other human beings. Cars drove by. The hard blue-white street lights showed her that only one lonely figure had sought shelter under the roof of the bus stop.
It was a man, another student with a distinct slouch and hard to forget wild dark hair. She knew him by sight and reputation, but had never spoken to him. Her friend Harmony had pointed him out to her as one of the head-geeks; Harmony always knew everything about every boy on campus.
Sam stumbled again and this time it looked like gravity would win. Sam let her parcel fall to the ground and prepared for a controlled fall, her Daddy Jet had been adamant about teaching her and it was better to get wet than hurt because she did it wrong. But it didn’t come to that, as just before she could fall, someone pulled at her upper arm and drew her upright again.
Sam looked up and prepared to sign a thank you. The heartfelt smile died on her lips and became a mere polite version. Her rescuer was nobody she wanted to feel grateful to and the leer on his face and the equally stupid expressions on his companions’ faces discouraged any positive response.
Mike knew that she could read lips, she had upended her soda on his head when he told his buddies she would be the ideal girlfriend: pretty but unable to bitch him out. He hadn’t been happy at all about her humiliating him in front of other students and since then he was always on her case. How she despised that boy.
“Look what I found! Miss Silent herself. Don’t you want to thank me for my daring rescue, Princess?"
His four friends were laughing and Sam could smell the alcohol they must have consumed on their breath, it made her gut clench. She tried to free herself, but his meaty fist didn’t let go of her upper arm. Sam forced a confident expression on her face, nodded and said thank you. It was one of the words the speech therapist had taught her. Another would be ‘help’ and that was what she would use if this Neanderthal didn’t release her at once.
“Sounds like a rusty bucket, doesn’t she, guys? I think I deserve a kiss.” Mike pulled her in the direction of a side street and she began to fight.
“How about a blowjob!” she read on one of his buddies lips when he turned to her and the hungry expression in his eyes made bile rise in her throat.
Sam cursed her footwear again, the oh so fashionable boots would hinder her in a fight, and fight she would, even if her chances weren’t good. Her Dads had trained her to fight dirty if need be, but five against one weren’t odds she would bet on winning. She shot her free hand up and grabbed for Mike's hand where it was latched on her arm. With a certain amount of pressure on the point under his thumb- ah yes. The grip suddenly lessened and she bent the digit in a way it wasn’t designed to be bent, threw herself sideways, rolling on one shoulder and hastily turned around, ready to fight or flee.
Sam would prefer to flee.
One of the stooges was reaching for her, another came up behind and Mike was shouting something and cupping his hand. They were cutting her off from possible escape routes. Sam opened her mouth to scream but a hand came from behind and prevented any sound escaping her lungs.
Panic rose and she bit down hard, on the sweaty, stinky fingers. The blood on her tongue made it worse, but it also made him withdraw. She reached behind to find vulnerable bits to squash, just the way she had been taught, but her training units had been conducted in sports wear, not heavy winter coats and scarves. Her attacks had to hurt, but they didn’t inflict the needed damage, just made her captors mad.
But there was nothing preventing her from screaming now. She let loose so hard that their ears must be ringing.
Suddenly she was free, tumbled face-first into the snow someone had shovelled against a wall. It lessened the impact of her fall. Sam jumped to her feet, turned around- and stared.
The scene had changed completely. Four figures were laying sprawled on the hard concrete, twitching and squirming like the slimy human trash they were. Mike was the only one of the original five still standing, trying to get a punch through the defenses of a newcomer, without luck thus far. It was the lanky older student from the bus stop who had come to her rescue.
Sam circled around the fighting men, trying to get nearer to the street, to call for help if needed. She kept her eyes darting between the downed figures and the two fighting men as she scrambled towards safety. She studied how her rescuer avoided one punch, blocked the next. She had seen these moves before, the flow and controlled power needed to execute them flawlessly. Jet moved that way when he spared with her Dad. This wasn’t some showy Rambo wannabe, he knew what to do for real.
The sudden shine of metal on Mike’s right hand alarmed and angered Sam. Brass knuckles! Lanky avoided them, landed a heavy punch against his oponent’s chin and then took him down. Mike landed in an undignified heap, his arm held securely behind his back by Lanky and his nose pressed into the ground.
Another movement caught her attention, one of the stooges had managed to heave himself up on his knees and he was holding something even more dangerous than brass knuckles in his hand, a wicked switch knife. Sam shouted a warning and Lanky’s head shot up.
Sky blue eyes stared at her for a quick moment, then darted towards the new threat.
The stooge attacked, a short struggle later and he joined his fellow idiots again. This seemed to convince the scumbags that they couldn’t win, and they stumbled and crawled away.
Lanky let them escape and Sam approved. He couldn’t hit them whenever they made attempts to stand up in order to keep them down, it would go beyond defense and any damage done would make them the attackers instead of victim and rescuer.
Additionally Sam knew the head idiot’s name, she would see to it that the authorities would hear about the attempted … rape. Just thinking the word made her tremble. She clenched her jaw together, she knew she needed to focus and avoid allowing herself to break down.
Lanky was observing her, slowly coming near her as if she was a frightened little animal and it made her mad. Not at him, no, just at the situation in general.
Time to show some backbone, she thought, and straightened her shoulders, tried to smile. It was the first time she had the opportunity to take a good long look at her daring hero.
His two defining features were his insanely wild hair and the startling bright blue eyes. Nobody would ever call him pretty, his nose was a too big and his mouth slanted to one side, but all the angles and high cheekbones made for a fascinating combination. The bruise that was developing on his jaw gave him a roguish air, but she would have preferred him without it. Lanky was a good nickname for him, he was a good head taller than her, and she wasn’t a midget herself. As far as Sam could see, he wasn’t heavily built, despite the force she had seen him use. And he was pressing one of his hands against his right shoulder.
One of the idiots must have managed to hurt him. Sam growled, two fast steps and she was near enough to bat his hand away and try to assess the damage. It must have been the knife that did this. He had worn a thick pullover over his shirt instead of a winter jacket, probably the reason he was hurt at all, because the cut wasn’t very deep.
Now, for some first aid… The freshly fallen snow was clean enough. Sam scoped up a handful of it, formed it into a ball and then reached up to press it against the bruise on his face. She made him hold it there and then took another look at the cut. He was smiling at her and she couldn’t help but smile back. His lips moved.
“My name’s Jack. I can’t believe those bastards tried to hurt you. You’re one of the new forensic students, aren’t you?” He eyed her up and down and she liked that he seemed to appreciate the view but that his eyes didn’t linger on her breasts.
"You're not hurt, are you?"
Sam shook her head, reached into her pocket and pulled out her student ID. It was doubtful that he would understand ASL, not many did, and this way he could read her name and the attached note about her handicap.
“Sempera Peltier. Nice name. Oh, you're deaf.” The young man showed interest, not pity, and Sam nodded and smiled, pointing at her lips.
“And you can read lips.“
Her fingers carefully poked the wound, the cold had slowed down the bleeding but it would need a few stitches to heal without scaring. A familiar looking chain around his neck distracted her from playing Florence Nightingale. It was the kind of chain that normally held dog tags. That would explain some things, but others…. Her fingers hooked around the thin chain and she pulled, matte silver metal plates with attached noise guards slipped out of his collar.
Sergeant Joaquin M. Sheppard. USMC. Her fingers held up the tags, the other hand pointed at his head and the so-not-regulation haircut. Her Daddy would be appalled.
Jake laughed, his eyes dancing merrily. “I am at college to defend my thesis before returning to the Corps. Nobody here cares about how my hair looks.” His fingers squeezed hers gently before he pushed the dog tags back under his ruined shirt. The touch made her feel all tingly and warm.
“We should go to the nearest police station and tell them about the attack.”
Yes, they should. If Mike thought it was ok to assault her, he would likely try the same methods with another girl and this time the victim might not be as well trained in self defense or have the luck of a handsome Marine to come to her rescue.
They didn’t have too go far, just to the bus station before the police found them, not the other way round. A police cruiser had stopped, its lights flashing aggressively. Three street cops emerged and were eying them distrustfully; all of them had their hands on their weapons.
“Stop, keep your hands where we can see them!” The lead officer shouted.
Sam and Jack complied, after exchanging puzzled looks.
The two other cops carefully crept nearer and nearer, finally circling them and then the two cops pulled Jack’s arms back to cuff his hands behind his back, patting him down, searching for his ID and any weapons, no doubt. He must have asked a question, Sam saw the cop who was covering them from near the car answer.
“You are under arrest for assaulting and injuring five students. Everything you say…”
Sam was searched as well and the feeling of these strange hands on her made her tremble and her companion shout at the cops, only to be ignored. Jack’s touches had been different, but these men weren’t friendly, she saw them as her enemies.
Now was not the time to get hysterical. Sam clenched her teeth and her hands flew to try and clear up this misunderstanding. Jack was likewise protesting, but the cops would have none of it. Sam’s deafness made them uncomfortable and they began to treat her like a dumb delicate flower. Dad was right, some street cops weren’t chosen for their skills or smarts. Idiots!
Dad… Time to act like the daughter she was and not like a stupid damsel in distress. They hadn’t taken away her cell phone, even if they should have, and they were concentrating on their male captive instead of securing the crime scene.
Jack had been roughly shoved onto the backseat of the cruiser. His lips were pressed firmly together and he was looking at her with concern. He might not know ASL, but Marines had a sort of battle short hand and she used those signs to tell him that she was all right and that backup would be on the way soon.
One cop tried to order her into the car, Sam held up her hand, tried to smile as harmlessly as she could, mimed carrying something and pointed behind her at the side street.
The cops looked at each other and shrugged. Finally they came to a consensus and one of them followed her so she could pick up her abandoned package. She had been able to decipher the number of the police station and her fingers were busy typing a message on her cell in her pocket.
The cop was - finally, where had he learned his trade?- looking around, staring at the trampled snow. He didn’t really pay attention to what she was doing, his incompetence working in her favor. Where had she seen…ah, there. With a side glance to make sure her guard dog wasn’t paying attention, she picked two things up with her cloth hanky and secured them in her backpack before she made a big production out of mourning over her squashed parcel.
Jack was looking at her when they made it back to the car, his eyebrow raised in question. Sam smiled at him. Now it was her turn to save the day.
.-#-.
Jack had been led away to be processed. Mike and his friends, and later their parents, had waited for them at the station, the mothers teary eyed, and the fathers indignant, all of them out for revenge because some big bad older student had beaten their darlings up for no good reason.
Sam had been caught in her memories and had missed two more men entering the squad room. The uncomfortable movements of those around her and the change in atmosphere were what made her look up. Ah, yes, now things would get interesting.
The first man was clothed in a dark trench-coat, no hat obscured the thick white hair on his head and the stormy expression on his face proclaimed to anyone who dared to meet his ice-blue eyes that he was not amused at all. He wasn’t young, the wrinkles around his eyes indicated this, but the way he held himself and the energy in his step would put younger men to shame.
His handsome companion wasn’t anything to be sneered at either. Silver hair at his temples gave him a dignified appearance, his clothes were winter appropriate and of better quality than the ones of his white-haired partner. But his furious expression matched the first man’s to a T.
She could read her name on their lips. And their names on the lips of more than one of the cops present.
Captain Price had come out of his office and was eying his visitors with great trepidation and false bravado. Sam tried to get a good look at his lips.
“Gibbs! What the hell are you doing here?”
It didn’t matter that her Dad was the director of a federal agency and could be scary as hell if he wanted to, when faced with the rock and the hard place that was this duo, the LEOs tended to remember the countless horror stories about the fury of one Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The stories, handed down by street cop to rookie since long before her dad entered the scene, made Gibbs a legend to beat all others, and made the LEOS search for cover when he entered a room.
Her Dad, Tony DiNozzo, had reached her and was giving her a big hug and a careful once over. She hugged him back and peered over his shoulder.
“Heard you arrested the Marine who rescued my daughter from being assaulted and raped?”
The captain whipped around, stared at Sam and the man who held her securely in his arms. It didn’t take divination to see the ‘oh shit’ that went through his head. Sam wriggled out of her Dad’s arms, picked up her backpack and told him to follow her to where the collective idiot brigade had gathered and were bickering.
Her Dad blinked and then he began to smirk, his green eyes twinkling. “Incompetents?” he asked her with voice and signs both.
Sam nodded and placed the backpack on the desk, stretching herself to reach for a silicone-glove dispenser, pulled two of the thin gloves out and pulled them over her hands. ‘You’ll translate for me, dad?’
Tony-Dad nodded.
Jet-Daddy was keeping everyone on their toes with his glares. He leaned with his hip against another desk. The police officers, parents, Mike and the stooges had drawn back from him.
It didn’t take long to tell her story and she could see the protests spilling from the lips of her wannabe rapists, but they couldn’t make her squirm, nothing bad could happen to her now.
Now, for the grand finale. Sam reached into her backpack and pulled out the brass knuckles and the knife. ‘I may have only just started my official study of forensics, but this is simple enough to be understood by amateurs. The red head over there used the knife, you should find his prints on it and Jack’s blood on the blade, just as I told you. How could I have come by it except in the alley, how could Jack’s blood be on it if I lied? Likewise with the brass knuckles, they belong to Mike.’
Sam raised her chin, looked from one cop to the other and then at the boys. ‘I only touched them with my hanky and now with the gloves. They provide evidence for my witness report. I picked them up in the alley because the cops here couldn’t be bothered to listen to my rescuer or me, and I would take bets that these items would have disappeared if we went back now.’
A hand touched and squeezed her shoulder and she leaned into it, her Dad’s support enfolding her like a warm coat. She had done her part, now she could let them sort it out.
.-#-.
A Marine had been accused of a crime, so NCIS’ involvement was completely legal. McGee and his team had been called to act as the official Agents for this case, Gibbs and DiNozzo as her parents were unsuited to lead an investigation.
Bureaucracy raised its ugly head and it took hours until everything was sorted out, with the boys contradicting each other and blaming each other for what had happened during interrogation. Gibbs’ bellowing, Tony as the director of NCIS throwing his weight around and the evidence Sam had provided didn’t help to speed up the proceedings. In the end, the cops had to give in and acknowledge grudgingly that they had arrested the victims, not the perps.
All that was left for now, was to free Jack and introduce him to her parents. One of the cops who had arrested her Marine was the one who led them back to the part of the building with the holding cells. Jack was already free, sitting at a guard desk outside the cell part of the room, his white, blood-sprinkled shirt gleaming under the harsh ceiling lights.
Sam growled and strode over to him, her hand flying out to yank away the cloth to inspect the wound underneath. She sniffed. Just as she suspected from the telling lack of bright orange tincture and distinctive smell: shoddy work! Nobody seemed to have bothered to use antiseptic, just taped the cut closed.
The young Marine had halfway stood up and she pressed his shoulders to disabuse him of this plan, and then she whirled around and stomped over to the officer who was observing the proceedings. Sam pointed at the first aid kit on the wall. Her hands signed.
The officer was squirming and looking around rather helplessly. The whole station knew who she was by now.
Jet was the one to translate this time. “My daughter wants to know why you can’t even dress a stab wound correctly.”
“He said is was nothing serious, just a scratch.” The officer tried to defend himself. “Everyone was, ehm, busy…”
Sam snorted and went back to stand beside Jack. She would see to his wounds later. Yeah, everyone had been busy all right. They were busy kissing Mike’s father’s golden ass and then they were busy trying to avoid getting their own asses kicked by her Dads.
‘Dad, Daddy. This is Sergeant Joaquin Sheppard.’ Sam smiled at them and then at Jack. This was hardly a normal situation, but the two other times she had introduced someone male to her family, the two men, no, in hindsight she had to say that they had been boys, had been confident to meet her parents and then, when faced with the real deal, had nearly pissed themselves. Jack on the other hand….
The young Marine had softly shaken off her hand and was now standing at parade rest, looking at her parents with interest and curiosity.
Jet let his inner Gunny out and went all military on them, heels together, half salute. “Sergeant. We are in your debt for rescuing our daughter. You have my thanks.”
“It was my pleasure.”
Sam grinned. ‘Hey, I rescued him right back.’
Her Dad laughed and spoke her words aloud so everyone could understand them, then he sobered up again and offered his hand to Jack. “You are an honor to the Corps, Sergeant. Thank you.”
Jack was smiling sheepishly and shook the offered hand, then he turned to Sam and his grin grew wider. “It certainly made for an interesting evening. I thought I would have to watch TV or read a book to pass the time.”
‘It’s the holidays! You don’t have family here?’ Sam exclaimed, again her Dad translated.
‘No girlfriend?’ She glared at her Dad but he refused to translate this part and she had to snatch a piece of paper and a pen.
Jack looked between her and the two, now scowling, older men, then down at the piece of paper she held out. Humor began to dance in his eyes. “My parents are living on base and it is quite far away. I don’t have a girlfriend, no boyfriend either.”
His smile widened comically and he moaned. “If they find out that I managed to get arrested, and they will find out soon, all hell will break loose.”
The officer who had observed them nervously shook his head. “Already broke loose.”
“You don’t know my parents.” The Marine commented.
Sam had scribbled another sentence and held out the paper. She was shaking inside but tried to play it cool.
Jack smiled at her and his left hand tugged at his spiky hair. Hair her Daddy was eying disapprovingly, like she had known he would.
“I don’t think your fathers would like it.” Jack said and handed the sheet back to Sam.
“What?” came the question from the men in question.
‘I want to invite him home with us. He rescued me, it wouldn’t be right to leave him lonely on Christmas!’ Sam looked pleadingly from one of her Dads to the other.
She saw them exchange speaking looks; saw how her Dad touched her Daddy and the secret smile they shared. This was something she wished for herself and this time she wouldn’t let overprotective instincts get in the way. She simply knew that Jack would fit right in, her gut told her so.
“The guest room is empty.” Daddy growled out as his eyes took on a warning glint. He was cautious about inviting someone home with them, even if it was a fellow Marine. Nevertheless it was his version of ok. Now only Dad had to agree and he did so with a nod.
Sam wrote down something else, handed it to Jack and looked up hopefully. Her eyes met blue ones. She watched him read her message. ‘Whatever else might happen, I don’t want you to be lonely. Come with us and celebrate Christmas.’
“I accept your invitation.” Jack turned to her parents and saluted. “I am housebroken, don’t worry, and I will try to be the perfect house guest.”
Sam smiled brightly.
Before she could sign anything else the door flew open and McGee entered, a cell phone in his hand and a peculiar expression on his face. “Jethro, I have a Major General John Sheppard of the US Air Force on the line who demands to know 'how the fuck his son managed to get himself arrested.'” McGee made air quotes with his fingers for the second part of his message.
Jack groaned and rolled his eyes heavenward.
Sam raised her brow and mouthed distastefully ‘Air Force?’
“Sorry. What can I say? I’m an military brat. My father blames his troops for tempting me into the Marines. My other father blames all military personnel on the base for me going into the service at all instead of becoming a scientist.” Jack smiled apologetically.
He reached out and took the cell phone before McGee was able to hand it to his colleague.
“Dad? No, no, you don’t have to come down and sort it out.” Whatever was said on the other end made Jack pull a face. “No, really, tell him he should calm down. Nothing happened, I am as good as new, just a scratch, the pictures lied. Just small wounds of honor acquired in the quest to rescue a very formidable young Lady.”
He winked at Sam and she beamed back at him.
Her two Dads were standing near each other and shaking their heads at the younger man’s antics.
Then Jack concentrated on his call again. “You had my name flagged? Should have known, but I didn’t need the rescue, had some help here to sort it out. But it is nice that I’m able to speak to you on Christmas eve.” Another pause, Jack’s eyes glowed warmly and the smile on his lips was tender while he listened to what was said to him. “Love you too, kiss Pops for me. We have to stop; Uncle Sam will not like this telephone bill. I will not be alone, don’t worry I’ve been invited to spend Christmas with the family of the formidable lady who got me un-arrested, everything will be all right. Take care.”
Jack closed the phone and handed it back. Then he placed one more signature on the files on the desk and then slouched against it, smiling beatifically at his hosts, their daughter and everyone else in the room. “I'm ready, and you?”
Sam smiled, oh she was ready alright. It was turning out to be a great Christmas Eve after all.
The End.
Story Notes:
Ria and I speculated about the type of man who would be acceptable as Sam’s boyfriend, I used one comment and spun a story. This is the result and Ria’s Christmas present. It is fluffy and most likely most people won’t like it. And I still think it is hinky that she wanted to beta read her own present.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Finding a potential boyfriend, Sam style
Chapter End Notes:
Ria and I speculated about the type of man who would be acceptable as Sam’s boyfriend, I used one comment and spun a story. This is the result and Ria’s Christmas present. It is fluffy and most likely most people won’t like it. And I still think it is hinky that she wanted to beta read her own present.
I've been told it might be better to include the name of the other fandom: it is Stargate Atlantis
I've been told it might be better to include the name of the other fandom: it is Stargate Atlantis