Fence Sitting by Venom

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Story Notes: Author's notes: This is weird. I had a dream and decided that I'd share it.

Feedback: Hell yeah! Don't make me beg.
E-mail: venom@scififan.com but you'd probably have better luck with venom_the_shipper@yahoo.com.au

Dedication: As always, for LEW.

Date: 2-7-03

Copyright © to Venom, 2003

Fence Sitting

~*+*~

"Are you *laughing* at me?" I demand, giving him an icy glare. This is *not* funny, at all.

He tries to stifle his grin and shrugs a little. "Well…..it *is* kind of funny…..from my side of the fence."

"Yeah, well your side of the fence doesn't involve a new form of push- up bra designed for the sole purpose of shrinking my breasts three sizes, or a split in the skirt that goes all the way up to my….."

"Ah!" He cries, waving his hands frantically at me. "Stop talking. Now."

I allow myself a little triumphant grin. I knew that would get him.

I mean how *could* he laugh at me? Do I have a sign on me or something that just *begs* the natives to dress me up in things that are…..less than concealing?

The outfit of the month that the-wait for it-Dressarios, decided to make me get up in consist of little more than a few strategically placed handkerchiefs…..I wonder if this is the planet that Anise/Fre'ya shops on. Would hardly be surprising, considering what I've seen her wear on the base.

Tramp.

But, back to my predicament. The top is pushing my breasts up so far that they're either going to fall out or shrink, and the ankle length skirt has a split all the way up to my crotch. If I sit down, then you'll be able to see what I had for breakfast. Did I mention that it covers approximately one inch of my stomach?

Who's the tramp now?

"Really, Carter, is it that bad?" He asks, looking me up and down *again!* God he can be such a…..such a…..man!

I fold my arms across my chest, which only succeeds in squashing my breasts further…..the colonel seems to like the effect. "You put it on and then we'll see how bad it is."

"I don't think….."

The rest of his sentence dies off as, Danarian, the, for want of a better word, `Fashion designer' of the planet walks over to us. "Do you wish to wear the same outfit as Major Carter?"

Colonel O'Neill shakes his head vigorously. "No, not at all."

Too late, sir.

Danarian is already going through his stock to find another outfit for the Colonel…..I'm trying not to laugh. Really, I am. "I must say that your culture has strange practices, but I should have known. If it is considered acceptable for Major Carter to wear the clothes of a man, then it would obviously be acceptable for the men to wear women's clothes. Do you think Mr. Quinn and Teal'c would also wish to wear an outfit?"

"I don't think so Danarian, only Colonel O'Neill wants to try them on." I supply, covering my mouth with my hand in a vain attempt to keep the laughter at bay…..it's a lost cause.

He nods. "Good, I don't think that I have anything in a big enough size for Teal'c."

The Colonel's face is loosing colour at a rapid pace. "Danarian, it really isn't necessary….."

"Nonsense Colonel, it is of no trouble."

Danarian pushes the outfit up against the Colonel and waves his hand. (Their way of manipulating normal objects is one of the reasons I agreed to get dressed up, the technology could really help us, and even if we don't get it, their friendship could be vital.)

Within seconds I'm looking at the Colonel, who is dressed exactly the same as I am, except….. "Danarian, how come I'm in black and the Colonel is in…..pink?"

It's a fight to get the words out. It's not so much the outfit that gets me, but *hot* pink?

And beads, can't forget the decorative beads lining the get up.

Eat my shorts Colonel, eat my shorts.

"'Black'? Is that what you call the shade of your outfit? How interesting." He mumbles. "Colonel O'Neill is in…..'pink,' because I felt it would compliment his skin complexion better then black."

*Complement* his *complexion?* Oh this is too good!

The Colonel rolls his eyes. "How nice."

"I shall leave you." Danarian announces, leaving the `shop' tent.

"Well…..Jack….."

"Jack?" He questions, hands on his hips. The action pulls his bikini type shirt tighter across his chest…..maybe this isn't so bad after all.

"I can't call you sir or Colonel while you're wearing that…..you'd loose what respect I had for you in a second." I can see it now: We're in a battle situation and I call out `sir' to him only to burst into fits of giggles at the reminder of *this* memory.

I may not have laughed at him yet, but I can't resist a smirk.

"Are you *laughing* at me?" He demands, giving me an icy glare. He doesn't think this is funny, at all.

Throwing his words back at him, I try to stifle my grin and shrug a little. "Well…..it *is* kind of funny…..from my side of the fence."

"Your side of the fence….."

Teal'c walks into the tent and interrupts whatever weird twist he was going to put on my earlier statement. "O'Neill, I was unaware that you had taken a preference to women's clothing."

Jack groans.

Teal'c cocks his head and raises an eyebrow.

I *finally* laugh.

*

The end.

End Notes: I hate people who point at their wrist when they want to know the time. I know where my watch is, where's yours, idiot? Do I point at my crotch when I want to know where the bathroom is?
www.geocities.com/venom_69_anderson2001/index.html

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