Story Notes:

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Notes:

Holiday ficlet.

Excuse me while I yank the fluff from my teeth…

Sam covered her mouth, barely containing the raucous laughter that threatened to escape. Tears sprang to her eyes and her shoulders shook, his frown only serving to make her condition worse. “I’m sorry,” she squeaked, holding up her other hand.

“I’m hurt, Carter,” he told her, folding arms that simply refused to cooperate. He finally gave up, placing his hands on his hips. She snorted, eyes wide, crumpling into a ball on the couch. “Aw, c’mon. It’s not that bad!”

She tried to breathe, taking the hand off her mouth in order to wrap both arms around herself, rocking back and forth as her eyes blurred from crying so much. “Oh my God,” she managed, trembling with the effort to gain composure. “Sir, I…”

“Well,” he interrupted, smirking. “At least it might make her laugh.”

“Yes, sir, I imagine so,” she agreed, returning his smile as she wiped at her eyes. “Cassie has a good sense of humor.”

“The woman at the store said I’d make a dashing rabbit.”

“That’s certainly one word for it, sir,” she giggled, new laughter bubbling forth as he searched for a place to put his wallet.

“Here, hold this for me, would you, Carter?”

“Absolutely, Colonel.”


The door was already open when she, Janet, and the colonel got to the little girl’s room. She could see Cassie lying on her back, face covered in red spots and comic book pile stacked beside her. The girl smiled when Sam poked her head around the corner. “Sam!”

“Hi there,” she greeted in return, slipping into the room and settling beside her on the bed. Janet followed, sitting next to her. Luckily they’d both had the chicken pox before, or this little adventure would not be possible.

“Mom says I have to miss the Easter egg hunt,” Cassie pouted, big eyes looking imploringly in her friend’s direction.

“I’m sorry, Cassandra, but we don’t want the other kids at the park getting sick, do we?”

“But mom…”

“Cassie,” Sam interrupted, placing a hand on the girl’s arm. “I brought someone very special with me.”


“See for yourself,” she answered, giving a nod toward the door. She bit her lip and sucked in a breath as the door opened wider to allow a chubby, fluffy, six foot plus white bunny to hop into the room. She held it together until Janet collapsed into giggles beside her.

“The Easter Bunny!” shouted the sick little girl on the bed. “Mommy, Mommy, the Easter Bunny found out I was sick and came to see me!”

Sam was pretty sure the colonel was smirking again under the bunny head he now wore. She had to admit that if she hadn’t already known who was inside the costume she’d have never guessed. That is, of course, until he attempted to walk toward the bed instead of hopping, fell head over feet in a tumble of fur, ears, and huge floppy feet, and ended up flat on his back.

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud!”

“Jack?” accused the little girl, sitting up in bed where she could see him over the edge.

“Are you okay, Colonel?” the doctor asked, bolting from the bed, yanking off the bunny head and pulling a pen light from who knew where.

“Ack!” he complained, glaring at the woman.

“Sir, she has to check on you!”

“Jack? Why are you all dressed up like the Easter Bunny? Huh? Jack?”

“I’m fine, Doc, really.”

“You don’t seem concussed, sir,” she replied, checking his pulse at his neck since his arms and hands were still encased in costume.

“Yes. Hence…fine,” he groused, rolling up to a sitting position in a costume twice his size. “What?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Sam apologized again, body shaking from restrained laughter. “You just…have you seen yourself, sir?”

“Why yes, of course I have. I look…good.”

“You’re cute, Jack,” Cassie giggled, kneeling on the end of the bed. “You’re all fluffy!”

Sam watched as the colonel blushed a bright shade of pink, nearly matching the color of his…paws. It was then that she lost control completely; falling onto her side where she’d remained on the bed, Cassie mimicking her and the sounds of laughter filling the room.


When she dropped him back off at his house she walked him to the door, handing him his wallet and keys once he’d set the costumer’s head down beside the door. He unlocked the door and scooped up the head, moving into the house and looking back at her as if expecting her to follow.

“I should probably get back, sir,” she told him, hand on the door knob.

“Ah c’mon, Carter. Hang out. Have a beer!”

She hesitated, looking behind her at the empty street before sighing and stepping into his house, shutting the door behind her. She watched as he half-hopped, half-hobbled into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of beer and offering it to her. She declined, waving her hand, watching as he took off the cap, tipped the bottle up and took a long swig, eyebrow raising as she just stood there in front of him, giggling. “Carter?”

“Sorry, Colonel,” she answered, smiling. “I’ve just never seen a rabbit drink beer.”

“You’re hanging out with the wrong bunnies, Major,” he told her, smirking as he moved to the living room and dropped down onto the couch. “Crap.”


“I may never get back up.”

She smiled, folding her arms across her chest. “I need to get back to the stack of papers in my lab. Do you want me to wait until you change, sir? Just in case?”

He shook his head at her. “I’ll be fine, Carter. Just remind me the next time I decide to wear a costume to make sure I can walk in it.”

“Will do, sir,” she agreed, turning toward the door before a thought struck her. “Oh, and sir,” she added, not turning around fir fear she’d lose her nerve. “You really do make a cute bunny.”

She bit her lip, knowing they were both likely blushing, and opened the door, stepping outside. She leaned against the hard wood for support once she’d closed it behind her, drawing in a steady breath. She shook her head, starting toward her car.

She had a thing for the Easter Bunny. She was absolutely positive she was going to need therapy.


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