samandjack.net

Story Notes: Author's note: Written especially for Gateworld's Shippersday 2006. Thank you to all my threadmates and Fellow shippers.

Feedback: Yes, please??? (Don't make me beg . . .)


It had only been the "women's" locker room for two minutes - no more than three - when Major Sam Carter entered. It had been a slow day, and she'd finally left her lab and spent some time in the gym. Teal'c and O'Neill frequented the weight room, but she always found her release on the small track the SGC kept for those who preferred running on real floor to the treadmill.

She's spent more time there today than she had in a long time, and it showed in the tiredness of her limbs and the drenching perspiration that flowed from her body. The towel she'd tossed around her neck caught little of it, only keeping the back of her neck dry.

God, the shower was going to feel good. Even hers at home couldn't beat the pounding showerheads here on base, she thought as she opened her locker. They seemed to massage just right, hitting all the most sensitive spots until sore muscles were loosened. She'd sworn to Janet once, after they'd completed a workout together, that the military had had a physical therapist create them with just this purpose in mind.

Pulling the sweat-soaked sports bra over her head and slipping out of her panties, she wrapped a towel around herself as she realized that the sound of those showers could be heard, creating an appropriate background for her thoughts. Some other female officer must've been waiting at the door when the shared locker room turned from "men only" to "women only." That was okay, though - she didn't mind sharing the large shower room. The Mountain was like a family, or sometimes more like High School, she couldn't quite decide which.

She padded barefoot across the floor to where concrete surrendered to tile, turning the corner. . .

. . . and stopping dead in her tracks.

Oh, dear God, she thought.

It wasn't Janet or Jennifer or even Cassie in the showers. It was a man. A most gorgeous man, although she couldn't identify him as he stood just out of the water's path with his back to her. And, naturally, he was gloriously nude.

Sam's heart raced. She knew what she should do. Her mind screamed at her to back away quietly. . . to turn her back on the sight and give the man his privacy. But, as much as she thought she should, she couldn't tear her eyes away.

Lean and slender, the back and shoulders were, nonetheless, nicely muscled. The hollow down his spine was positively captivating, and she followed it down, down, down . . . . to what had to be the finest butt she'd ever seen on a man, and that included the ones she saw in those Playgirls her friends used to sneak to her as a teenager.

He was tall - taller than most of the men on the base, but not unduly so, his torso supported by long, thin yet finely muscled legs. Not tall enough to be Daniel, despite the fact that he'd bulked up considerably over the past few years. Daniel was just. . . Daniel. No, it was definitely somebody else. She couldn't even see his hair color, though, as his head was covered in shampoo suds.

And then, as if standing there, staring at the most gorgeous ass in the world wasn't adolescent enough, she watched as he stepped under the shower head. The water sluiced the soap from his head, sliding down to caress his naked body, as his hands moved to his hair to help rinse, and she almost let out a shriek that would have rivaled any 13-year-old girl's.

Those unique hands could and did belong to only one person: Colonel Jack O'Neill.

Oh, God, she thought. We're on duty, we're on base premises, and I'm standing here, gaping at my CO, who is totally naked. Oh, and did I forget to mention I happen to be in love with said Colonel?

She knew she had to get out of there, and quick, before somebody saw them. Or before *he* saw *her.*

Unfortunately, the natural tendency of bare feet to squeak on tile precluded the so-desired outcome. Not that it had been especially loud, but the Colonel's hearing, special-ops trained, was more acute than most, despite years of being exposed to explosions and gunfire. That, or it had nothing to do with the tile, and his sixth sense had alerted him to her presence.

Regardless, whatever it was caught O'Neill's attention, and nobody just walked into his shower unnoticed. His head yanked around in a reaction she was sure would leave him suffering a wrenched neck in the morning.

"Carter!"

He moved to cover himself with just-touched-a-hot-iron speed, but he failed miserably, succeeding only in losing his footing.

"Colonel!" she called, watching as he went down with an oomph on the slippery tile.

SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1

"Ugh!" Janet Frasier exclaimed, unable to stand the smell of herself. She understood why young officers had to be brought into the program. People retired, or were disabled or killed in such a dangerous project. She just wished that they'd restrict the newbies to those with strong stomachs.

On his way back from his first mission, Shane O'Malley had done it. Normally, she wouldn't even have been in the gate room when a team was returning except that O'Malley's CO had tripped and sprained an ankle. Fortunately, it had been a minor injury. Not so fortunately, it had put her directly in the line of fire when the young Lieutenant emptied the entire contents of his stomach onto the gate ramp. And her.

She couldn't wait to get into the shower. Thank God it happened while it was the women's turn in the locker room. She squirmed as she realized it had even gotten down her collar.

Moving to her locker, she began to work on the buttons of her uniform, grateful that she'd had the forethought to keep a spare. The room was silent -she was the only one here - except for he sound of running water. Then, quiet voices reached her ears.

"Colonel, are you okay?"

"Ouch! Carter, that hurts!"

"I'm sorry, sir! I'm just trying to see if it's broken."

"Then leave it alone before you make it worse!"

What were Jack and Sam doing in the same shower together? Several less-than-respectable thoughts flew through her mind, making her smile with a certain wickedness. She'd been waiting for something to happen between the pair for years - it was about damn time!

Slipping on a terrycloth robe, Fraiser moved towards the shower area. After all, it sounded like somebody was hurt, and she was only doing her duty by making sure that any injury was responsibly treated, right?

She peeked around the corner and nearly laughed aloud at what she saw. Sam Carter knelt, clad in only a towel, over the completely nude form of Jack O'Neill, who was clutching his wrist and seeming to try to cover himself at the same time. He was not succeeding.

"Sir, it's starting to swell." And, indeed, his wrist was. Among other things.

"Carter, if you want to help, get out of here and get me a towel!" He gave her a gentle shove to send her on her way, and then, the most priceless thing happened.

Sam didn't move from his side as ordered, didn't move at all, actually. But her towel did. The knot she'd apparently put into it came loose, and the cloth that had previously been wrapped about her body fluttered with a soft swoosh to the tiled floor.

Janet Fraiser would never have believed Major Sam Carter was capable of yiping, but that's exactly what she did as her body was bared to him. They were once again on even footing, and her doctor's eyes noted that the swelling was getting worse. Allll of the swelling.

Sam made a desperate grab for the towel, but Jack, with his one good hand, was faster, and swiped it away and across the room, looking at her wickedly.

"Not so fast, Carter. Now we can sit here, or you can go and get us *each* a towel."

Then, a look Janet had never seen in her life came over Sam Carter's face, and if someone was to look up the word "lascivious" in the dictionary, Janet was sure that you'd find this face beside the definition.

She was Sam's best friend, as well as the base physician, and she knew damn well what was about to happen, and specific sounds a moment later confirmed her suspicions. Sneaking away, she found what she wanted in the slop closet, grabbed her spare uniform, and left the locker room. Before returning to her office to clean up at a sink there, she hung a small sign on the door over top the "women only" sign.

"Out of Service for Maintenance."

The End




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