Musical Clothing
Musical Clothing
by Jewels
TITLE: Musical clothing
AUTHOR: Jewels
EMAIL: jhantor@yahoo.com
CATEGORY: Sam and Jack, humour
SPOILERS: None
SEASON / SEQUEL: Sequel to 'Don't get mad... get creative'
RATING: PG13
CONTENT WARNINGS: Swearing
SUMMARY: Jack tries to get his own back on Sam
STATUS: Complete
ARCHIVE: Heliopolis
DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. We have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the authors. Not to be archived without permission of the authors.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Daniel Jackson heard the yelp and later had the feeling that he and Teal'c had never moved so fast to get to Sam Carter before. They had both dropped what they had been doing (Daniel more set his artifacts down quickly) and bolted towards the origin of the sound, almost dreading what they would see.
Whatever they were expecting, it wasn't Jack helping Sam to her feet chiding her to watch out for pot-holes. He glanced up and saw the other two SG-1 members standing on the ridge and commented,
"Feeling a little jumpy today are we?"
Daniel and Teal'c exchanged a glance and slowly headed away, back to their former positions.
"I don't know, Teal'c," Daniel said as they walked. "Maybe he's not planning anything."
There was silence for a moment as Teal'c considered that. "Perhaps. But it would not be consistent with O'Neill's... personality."
"Maybe," Daniel shrugged. "But he's had three days to try something. Wouldn't he have already done something by now?"
Teal'c regarded the archaeologist for a moment. "Perhaps you are right."
"Hmm..."
**
Whereas Daniel and Teal'c weren't sure as to whether Jack was planning something, Sam was certain. She was a dead woman. He was being nice to her. That was a big hint. The longer he was nice to her, the more Sam was convinced that whatever he was planning, it was really not going to be pleasant.
In one way, she was glad that Daniel and Teal'c had responded so quickly when she had yelped. That would minimise such happenings as dismemberment, disfigurement and death. In another way, it meant that she wasn't the only one anticipating something happening.
Maybe she would be lucky, maybe the Colonel had forgiven her. Maybe she didn't have anything to worry about.
*Oh look,* she thought to herself, *Is that a pig I see flying out of the Stargate? The one with the sparkly wings and the postal bag over its shoulder?*
That was how likely it was that she'd been forgiven. She had, after all, utterly humiliated him in front of the SGC, and at least one SG team. The others had managed to see the night's highlight courtesy of a copy of the security camera footage which had somehow got into the mess hall at breakfast and was playing the rest of the day until the colonel had turned up with a hammer and reduced it to bits of plastic. The original was safely tucked away. Fortunately.
As Sam trudged up the hill after O'Neill, she couldn't help feel this cold feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.
Although, it could have just been the scrambled eggs she had for breakfast.
**
It was almost comical when they arrived back at the SGC. Everyone anxiously checked Sam to make sure she hadn't been murdered horribly in her sleep, then they all looked at Jack and sniggered slightly, remember the scene from a few days earlier.
Jack was becoming far too used to it for his liking.
"SG-1..." General Hammond approached them as they descended the ramp. "You have a debriefing in twenty minutes, after that, you're on stand-down over the weekend."
Sam tried to suppress a sigh of relief. Stand-down meant she could go home, lock and bolt the doors... then torment herself with worst case scenarios that might be greeting her on monday morning.
**
"Jack..."
"What is it, Danny?"
"I was just wondering..."
"Spit it out."
"Revenge. What are you planning?"
"Me? What makes you think I'm 'planning' anything?"
"Cut the crap, Jack-"
"Language..."
"-because I know you well enough to know that you are planning some sort of revenge against Sam for what she did to you in the ga..."
"Yes, thank you, Danny, I have been trying to forget that, you know."
*pause*
"Well?"
"I got some of the airmen to agree to sneak in there while she's in the shower and steal her clothes from out her locker."
"Won't she just borrow someone elses?"
"That's the best part. They're stealing all the clothes from the other lockers while they're at it."
*pause*
"JACK, YOU IDIOT!!! YOU COMPLETE AND UTTER MORON!!!!!"
"What?"
"The day shift's coming off. Which means most of the women are going to be in the locker room. And when none of them can find their clothes..."
"Oh shit."
"Exactly."
**
Sam had checked the shower head thoroughly when she had entered the shower. Nope, no bleach there, no mud, the towel didn't have itching powder in it, her locker had not thrown anything at her when she opened it. And at least, with the locker room currently a female-only area, she was safe from any revenge that Colonel Jack O'Neill could conjure up.
She hoped.
She finished a rather brief shower - P4T218 hadn't been as dirty as some of the planets that she'd visited in the past - and headed for her locker intent on getting dressed then running home for a weekend on stand-down.
Sam rummaged in her locker. What the hell? Where were her clothes? Gripping her towel harder so that she didn't drop it, she began hauling everything out of her locker, the contents of which now consisted of two towels and a bottle of shower gel.
All her clothes were gone.
*Oh shit.* was the first thought that occured to her. Then she tried to stay calm. The last shift had just come off and many of the women were now in the locker room.
"Janet?!" she called.
"Yeah?" came the disembodied voice from one of the showers.
"Someone's made off with my clothes."
"Ouch! O'Neill?"
Sam nodded, even though Janet couldn't see her. "Very probably."
"I think I've got some spare in my locker, look through there and grab something."
"Janet, you're a saint."
There was a short laugh. "So I'm told."
Sam moved over to Janet's locker and opened it. "Erm... Janet..."
"Yeah?"
"I hate to tell you this... but your clothes are gone too..."
"WHAT?!" One of the showers suddenly snapped off and Janet exited with her own towel wrapped around her body to check her locker herself. The look on her face was one of utter fury.
"Mara?"
Mara Tilmore, one of the technician's who had come into the locker room just ahead of Sam, yelled back. "What's up?"
"Mind if we check your locker?"
"Um... sure, go ahead."
They checked Mara's locker, finding it similarly empty. One by one, the women of the base drifted out and checked the lockers. Every single one of them was empty, even those used by the men.
Everyone looked at Sam.
"This /is/ partially your fault, you know." someone pointed out.
"O'Neill started it!" she protested.
"But he couldn't have done this all on his own." Mara pointed out. "Not so quickly while we were in the showers."
Janet had an extremely determined expression on her face. "We're going to finish this. Once and for all."
**
In the military, they train you to be ready for almost anything. Almost, because military trainers would never have anticipated nearly a dozen extremely angry, soaking wet women, wrapped in towels, to suddenly burst into the control room and glare at Jack O'Neill. Several airman almost fell out of their chairs they were staring so hard.
"You do realise," said Sam tightly. "That this means war."
Jack gulped nervously. Somewhere in the corner of the room, an airman drooled uncontrollably. Sam stalked forward and planted on finger on Jack's chest, the other hand employed in keeping her towel in place.
"I challenge you to a game of hockey." she declared.
Jack grinned, she must be looking to loose. "Fine by me." he said.
"Ah yes, but I have a few rules." she told him.
Jack gave her his best 'you-can-try-but-I'm-still-going-to-kick-your-butt' smile, and ignored the airman whohad just passed out. He was more focused on the individual in front of him. "Fine."
"One," Sam held up her fingers. "We play by my rules on a hockey pitch, agreed?"
"Agreed."
"Two, no cheating. Or I surgically remove parts of your body that you wouldn't let anyone but a doctor see, and throw them through the Stargate."
"Fine."
"Three, it's just you, me... and the girls."
"Ok... WHAT??"
"You've agreed. He's agreed hasn't he?"
There was a general murmur of agreement. From those of the men that were still capable of speech anyway.
Sam grinned viciously at her CO. "Prepare to die, Jack."
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