The Other Side

 

By

 

moon_n_star

 

 

 

 

******

 

 

T was a dead man.

Okay, so Jonas should be on top of that list with him. But, considering he was the newer "visitor" of the two, he tended to cut Jonas a little more slack. A part of him thought that a bit unfair; after all, Jonas had been on earth almost a year now. Not to mention he was one smart little bugger. Nothing escaped the guy's attention - *nothing* - and that trait alone had impressed the hell out of Jack, not that he would ever admit as much. 

It's just that, well, Teal'c knew better. Or at least should know better.  But that darn Jaffa humor of his had meant that the big guy was finally letting his hair down, proverbially speaking. Most days, Jack loved it, loved that T's increasing sense-of-humor slipped through his disciplined Jaffa cracks more and more each day.

That was until Teal'c discovered a new facet of comedy - practical jokes.

Jack hadn't exactly minded when he was in on them - he had to admit, the Jaffa *was* good. But when Jack was the butt of said joke?  Teal'c was
just downright evil.

It wasn't the most original or imaginative gag; Jack imagined that every college freshman rushing for a fraternity had undergone the same stunt, or at least some offshoot of it. But what it lacked in originality, it made up for in old-fashioned humiliation.

The obvious answer would've been just to steal something from Teal'c's or Jonas' - hell, even Carter's - lockers; except, being the master strategist T was, those had been wiped clean as well. Which left him with just one option.

Was it unprofessional? Heck yeah.

But there was no way in hell he was going to give them the satisfaction of being embarrassed. That was exactly what they'd intended, so that was exactly what they weren't going to get. Not that he *was* embarrassed or shy - he knew he was in pretty good shape, at least for a guy his age - but he realized how horribly unprofessional it would look for a senior officer to walk through the hallways wearing only a towel . and a rather skimpy one at that.

The holiday meant a leaner SGC roster; but, he wouldn't have cared had the place been teeming with double the usual staff. Hell, not even the Joint Chiefs could stop him from storming down that hall until he found the little weasels, and his clothes.

So without another moment's hesitation, the locker room door slammed open. His feet rocketed down the hallway, his mind devising all sorts of cruel and unusual punishments with which to discipline his oh-so-hilarious teammates. His left hand held on to his only garment as he rounded the corner to the elevator, firmly clinging to the last vestige of his dignity (he may not be shy, but that hardly made him an exhibitionist). 

And as he impatiently surfed the various halls and elevators until he reached the right floor, he suffered the persistent stares, not to mention the occasional wolf whistle from some airman/would-be comedian, with ease.  For he knew, without a doubt, that Teal'c was *so* going to pay.

The two of them, as suspected - crowded around the center table in Jonas' lab, with various books and papers splattered across the counter. To look at them, you'd think they'd been there all day researching *something*.

But Jack knew better.

He hadn't exactly tiptoed into the lab, but yet neither had looked up from whatever it was in their hands. If the "let's pretend like we're reading and scatter a bunch of books around the table" ploy didn't tip him off, that they hadn't noticed him enter the room did.

Fine, Jack thought, two - three - can play that game. So he used the adult way of getting someone's attention - he cleared his throat.

Both looked up at him then. Had he not known with one-hundred percent certainty they were the culprits before, he knew it now. Teal'c did his standard eyebrow thing, no shocker there. But Jonas? Well, his trying-too-hard-to-look-shocked look shot him straight up to the top spot on the "teammates who must be punished severely and repeatedly" list.

"Is there a problem with your clothing, O'Neill?"

Evil. Definitely evil.

"Why yes, Teal'c. Apparently, we have mice," he said deadpan, "big, fat, *rude* mice that seem to have a particular taste for BDU's."

"I have heard of no such mice, O'Neill."

Oh, very, very, *very* evil.

"Okay," Jack snapped, his feet starting to sway back and forth on his heels - until he felt the towel slinking down his hips, and thought better of moving. "Let's drop the charade, shall we? You got me. And it was *really* funny," he drawled sarcastically. "Ha-ha. Now can I have my clothes back?"

"We don't have your clothes, Colonel," Jonas countered, shooting a quick glance toward his co-conspirator as he jumped into the ring. With Teal'c, there was that glint of wickedness in his eye, the one that told just how much he was loving every second of this. But, Jonas? Well, he really sounded innocent, concerned even. And that was ... well, *way* beyond evil. "But, I can try to scrounge up a shirt and pants if you ..."

"Oh for crying out ... drop the act because I'm *so* on to you two. And stealing my clothes while in the shower? I know you're not from around here and all, but couldn't you come up with something a little more, I don't know, un-clichéd than that?"

"It was not our idea, O'Neill."

"What?"

"We were just gonna fill your shoes with jello ... or, something like that," Jonas said with a hint of a smile.

"But, you did do it. Right?"  Great, now they'd managed to throw him. God, when did his teammates get so good at this? Neither said anything in response, so he took that as a yes. "So then who ..."

"Jonas, do you have the report for ... oh."

No.

No no no no ... no!

It couldn't be. There was no way in the world she'd ever ...

"Sir," she asked innocently.  And was that a smile her lips were desperately trying to hide?  "Are you okay?"

If he wasn't so damned flabbergasted that Carter - *his* Carter - of all people could be so wicked, so devious, he probably would've noticed how her eyes seemed to linger over every square inch of skin exposed, how her tongue just couldn't keep her lips wet enough.  He saw none of it - standing mere inches away from Carter clad only in a towel, he thought it best not to look at *any* part of her for too long.

"Carter," he greeted casually. "Your fellow teammates and I were just having a *very* interesting conversation. In fact, we were just talking about you."

"You were?"

"Oh yeah. You know, I expect more of you, Carter. I mean, I would at least expect you to come up with something a little more original, show a little more creativity. But I gotta hand it to you - your henchmen pulled it off beautifully. Right down to the letter."

"Not exactly," she sighed.

"And I gotta say that taking the clothes from the other lockers was a nice ... what?"

"Not exactly," she repeated. "They weren't supposed to leave the towel."

And, there, he lost it. Just the idea that Carter's plan had him naked ... that Carter and naked were in the same sentence ... was enough to turn his mind into jelly. His eyes were constantly moving, though, and his mouth opened and closed so much it imitated one of those pesky fish that he liked so much to catch but probably hadn't seen up close in years.

Amused smiles ran amuck in the room, with even the Jaffa unable to stop the curves from capturing his lips. But it was Carter, the same devious woman who'd masterminded all of this, who had put him in this mess, who eventually saved him. "Your clothes are in my lab, sir. I'll stay here while you ... change."

With his mind only able to form sentences that would make a caveman proud, he immediately spun on his heel, his feet automatically shooting for the door.  But in his preoccupied state, he'd forgotten just how loose those towel ties could be. And before he knew it (his mind was still reeling after hearing the Carter-wanted-him-naked plan), the whole of the SGC - or at least his teammates and a scant few personnel down the hall - got to see a whole other side of Colonel Jack O'Neill.

Oh god.

His knees for once didn't protest as he bent over in one swift, graceful movement to pick up the klutzy towel. But just when it couldn't get any worse, his feet just kicking into overdrive down the hall, he felt it. And he knew - he just knew - that *she* was smiling.  Not one of those coy, bright smiles that she gives to new acquaintances or wannabe admirers. But a slow, sensual smile that wouldn't melt his heart but would ignite a fire in a whole other place (which he probably shouldn't think about given his current state of undress).  So he tried not to ... think ... about her ... about how she was watching his every step (well, more than likely his feet were the *last* thing she was looking at right now). 

And if he stood a little taller, walked a little slower, before turning the corner, so what?  It felt good just to be ... appreciated.

The corner eventually came and went, but his smile remained.  Maybe practical jokes weren't too bad after all. 

He found her lab, his clothes, and - finally - his dignity.  And as he quickly squeezed into his BDU's (he *never* thought he'd be so happy to see them), he made a mental note to move Teal'c and Jonas to the "boy do I have to kiss their asses" column.  He shoved on his shoes, grabbed the rest of his belongings, and bounded for the door.


*****


By the time she'd reached her lab, things had returned to normal, though she had no doubt there'd be payback eventually.  But that was another day.  Today?  Today had definitely been a good day. 


Settling her mind back into her work, she moved to the stool only to find something resting on it. 


The towel.


Her hand immediately reached for it, raising it under her nose and softly breathing in, unable to hold her smile as the soft cotton cuddled her cheek.   


It had definitely been a good day.




*****

The End