Daniel had smirked at the outburst. “Oh, come on, Jack. You’d have been doing the same thing if you hadn’t been voted in.”
“That would have been different,” Jack replied haughtily.
“And how is that, exactly?”
“I would have outranked them.”
Now it was almost time for the festivities to begin, and General George Hammond sat in the front row of seats set up on the parade grounds, directly on the center aisle that extended from the runway that jutted out from the otherwise rectangular stage that, along with a temporary structure that served as a backstage area, took up nearly a third of the grounds. The seat to his right was unoccupied, and the bald man looked around to try to find the person who should have been sitting there.
He didn’t have to wait long. Soon enough, Teal’c walked up and took his seat, his hands balancing a cardboard tray filled almost to overflowing with snacks and treats from the concession stands set up behind the audience. He nodded as he handed Hammond the soda he had picked up for the SGC’s commanding officer.
“Thank you,” George replied distractedly, his eyes still on the pile of junk food. “Are you really that hungry?”
“Only slightly,” was the calm response. “However, I saw that many items I have long wished to sample but not yet found an opportunity to do so were available for purchase. I thought I would take advantage of the situation.”
“Um, Murray,” Hammond commented, stumbling slightly over the alias the Jaffa used when out in public since he hadn’t had much call to use it previously, “you do realize it’s almost nine o’clock in the morning, don’t you?”
“Indeed,” the alien replied as he adjusted the plain black bandana he wore to cover the golden mark of Apophis on his forehead. “It is nearly time for the competition to begin. Would you care for some salt water taffy?”
The general stared at him a touch incredulously for a moment then shrugged. “Why not?”
Music began blaring from the speakers positioned around the grounds as the Texan chewed on the stiff but sweet candy, and the crowd quieted in anticipation. Not long after, General Krenz’s aide, looking sharp in his dress uniform, stepped up to the podium that had been set up a few steps stage right of the base of the runway and tapped on the microphone to check if it was on. “Ladies and gentlemen, military and civilian personnel, one and all, welcome to the first annual Four Corners Region Bachelor/Bachelorette Competition!” The crowd applauded, whistles and catcalls supplementing the gesture. Hammond was sure a sizable part of the latter came from his own personnel seated behind him. He grinned. “Now put your hands together for a little while longer as you meet the Four Corners ladies!”
The anticipatory music that had been playing switched to an energetic tune with a solid beat, and from behind the sitting crowd came three lines of women mostly in crisp, darkly-colored military dress uniforms with splashes of other formalwear here and there. The ninety women streamed up the three aisles that divided the audience into four equal wedges and met on stage before going through a choreographed routine that had been rehearsed the night before and ended with them arranged on the two three-tiered risers that had been set up at the back of the stage. It was an impressive sight.
Once the ladies were settled and the crowd had begun to do so as well, the general’s aide moved close to the microphone again, the music from the speakers fading out. “And now, your Master of Ceremonies for the weekend, Lieutenant General William Krenz!” He took a step to the side, clearing the path to the podium, as the audience rose to its feet.
As though it had been as choreographed as the trip to the risers, every last member of the military snapped to attention complete with sharp salute as the announced general stepped out from backstage and made his way between the two halves of the bachelorette competitors. Just before the balding man reached his ultimate destination he spun around and returned the ladies’ salutes, then did the same for the rest of the crowd. “At ease, everyone,” General Krenz said into the microphone with a huge smile once he and his notes were in place. He straightened the note cards as two-thirds of the parade grounds was seated. “It is my pleasure to welcome you to Peterson Air Base in beautiful Colorado Springs, Colorado on this picture-perfect weekend. I guess this means Mother Nature approves of our little competition, wouldn’t you say?”
Half of the crowd from Cheyenne Mountain and two members in particular of the group seated in the stage right wedge that was comprised of empty seats and the men that would be competing the next day choked at the statement while the others chuckled politely. “Somehow I get the feeling Oma won’t be popping in to do her glowy tentacle number,” Jack whispered to Daniel. “Although that would be one hell of an entry for the talent competition.” The younger man merely glared at him.
“Let me explain how today’s and tomorrow’s events are going to work,” Krenz continued. “As you can see, all ninety of our contestants will start the day with the formalwear competition. Once each base’s fivesome has been introduced and paraded for the judges,” here he introduced the six members of his staff handling those roles, “there will be a fifteen minute break for the results to be tallied. Then the sixty contestants that will be moving on will be announced. The ladies - gentlemen tomorrow, of course - will then have a half hour to change into their casual outfits for the next stage of the competition. The process will be repeated, with thirty contestants continuing on to the third and final stage - the talent competition. The top five winners will be chosen from that last group and announced after the lip sync contest on Sunday.” He paused for a moment to let everything sink in. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let us begin!” Music was again piped in through the speakers.
One by one, each base’s group of five women was introduced, each successive woman being announced when the one previous had reached the end of the runway until they’d all been taken care of, lining up at the base of the catwalk as they finished and heading back out of the way together. This had been the other focus of the rehearsal the night before. The one hundred and eighty participants could only be glad it was a simple enough concept. As it was they hadn’t gotten out until eleven-thirty.
Two-thirds of the bases had their ladies grouped together in a semi-circle in front of the risers loosely enough to allow the others passage as needed before Stargate Command - known to the public at large only as the Cheyenne Mountain Complex - had its turn. General Hammond straightened in his seat while Teal’c raised an interested eyebrow. “And now for the ladies from that most enigmatic of our entries, the Cheyenne Mountain Complex,” General Krenz announced. There was a pause a touch longer than usual as the ruckus those words set off overwhelmed the PA system. Daniel yanked Jack back into his seat while Teal’c gave the bouncing and whistling Lieutenant Colonel Louis Ferretti to his right an odd look. They were a real family under the mountain, one that was fiercely loyal - and they didn’t care who knew it.
“Our first Cheyenne lady is Sergeant Erica Witherspoon,” Krenz continued when things died down enough to be heard. The wiry five-foot-ten young lady from communications stepped out and started down the runway, her straight shoulder-length black hair set off well in the bright sunlight that added to the natural sparkle of her green-grey eyes.
“Next is Lieutenant Jamie Evans.” The anthropologist of SG-8 followed in Witherspoon’s footsteps, her well-rounded five-foot-six frame, curly, chin-length brown hair , and bright light brown eyes well-suited to the dark navy blue uniform she wore.
“Captain Katherine Southhall.” At five foot three, she was the second shortest of the five, but her muscular build and dangerous air said she was anything but a pushover - most definitely explaining her position in security. Her grey eyes flashed as she strode after the first two women, her short-cropped honey-blonde hair barely moving to tickle her earlobes.
“Major Janet Fraiser.” Janet held the dubious title of shortest at five foot two, but anyone who had been in her infirmary would tell you she was tougher than her height suggested. Her shoulder-length auburn hair was swept up into a bun, and her chocolate brown eyes twinkled with amusement at the ceaseless antics the group from the SGC kept up. Her smile grew even wider when she saw Cassandra wave wildly from her seat behind General Hammond.
“And last but not least, Major Samantha Carter.” The five-foot-nine blonde couldn’t help but shoot a look to the men stage right where Jack had let loose an ear-splitting whistle - the same whistle he used off-world when he desperately needed his team’s attention and subtlety was either not important or not an option. She grinned widely when she saw Daniel give her a weak wave and thumbs-up before letting his face fall into his hands.
It wasn’t long before Sam had finished her walk and taken her place in the center of the five women lined up at the base of the runway. “The ladies of the Cheyenne Mountain Complex, ladies and gentlemen!” Again there was a roar from the SGC crowd, and the five of them took their places in the background semi-circle.
The rest of the ladies were introduced, and the fifteen minutes that followed were thick with anticipation and the whispers that accompanied it. “I think the girls did great,” Lou said quietly to the two men on his left as they waited.
“Mom looked amazing,” Cassie declared as she leaned forward to join the conversation. “I’ve never seen her look better in her dress uniform.”
“Doctor Fraiser did indeed look quite attractive,” Teal’c agreed. “As did Major Carter and the other ladies.”
Cassie nodded quickly. “Yeah, Sam was great, too. Just wait until you see what she’s got picked out for the casualwear competition. The guys are gonna need bibs.”
“I thought you told them you weren’t going to help?” Hammond queried, having heard tales of the teenager’s antics over the past three months.
“Who was helping?” the girl replied. “They made the choices all by themselves. I was just there to show off to.” She grinned. “I couldn’t have done better myself.”
Lou looked at her speculatively. “That good, huh?” Cassie nodded. “Worth a wager or two, would you say?”
“Colonel,” George began reprovingly.
“Don’t worry, General. Nothing big, I promise. It’s just that some of the Marines from Yuma have been blowing a lot of hot air, and I’d really like to take them down a peg or two. If Cassie says the girls will knock ‘em dead, I may have just the thing.” Hammond’s gaze hadn’t lightened. “Come on, General. You saw their offerings. It’s nothing against jarheads in general - ours are cool, pretty much - but those guys from Yuma really got under my skin.” The SGC commander still wasn’t budging. “If you had heard what they were saying about the Air Force, and our command in particular, you’d have already had me over there.”
Pale blue eyes narrowed. “And what exactly did they have to say, Colonel?”
Ferretti looked around nervously, his eyes lingering longest on Cassie’s curious expression. He slid out of his seat and stepped up to Hammond to whisper in his ear. Cassie just rolled her eyes.
“I see,” the general said finally. “You know I can’t condone actions like those you were suggesting, Colonel.” Ferretti straightened, the start of a disappointed expression beginning to blossom across his features. “But then again, what I don’t know won’t hurt you. What else did you pick up from the concession booths, Murray?” The wiry leader of SG-2 jumped a bit in surprise, then grinned as he took off to set his plan in motion.
Forty-five minutes and a quick lunch later, Ferretti slipped back into his seat, a triumphant smile splitting his face. “That was satisfying,” he commented gleefully.
“Are your wagers in place, Colonel Ferretti,” Teal’c asked, an eyebrow raised.
“You know it. And the fact that Carter, Fraiser, and Evans all made it to the next round just made it all that much sweeter. Just you wait. They’ll never know what hit ‘em.”
Cassie leaned over, hazel eyes sparkling with amusement. “Mom’s gonna kill you for not letting her in on this you know.”
“There was no time, sweetkins,” Lou replied, using his longtime nickname for her. It was the only reason she still let him - and him alone - use it. “The girls were already backstage when they started up. But don’t worry. She’ll profit from this.”
Hammond shook his head as the volume of the music increased, signaling the beginning of the casualwear competition. Once again the ladies marched in from the back, using an abbreviated version of the routine they had used at the beginning of the day to account for the reduced number of participants. General Krenz started things off, and the stream of well-dressed women in casual outfits up and down the runway began.
This time there were no groupings, each woman now standing on their own against the others. There were various combinations of styles and colors, from T-shirts and jeans to sundresses and sandals. They all looked stunning.
Janet went by about halfway through the first third dressed in an off-the-shoulder white peasant’s blouse, its neckline trimmed with a short collar of embroidered lace, and a short, tight, stonewashed denim skirt that hung to mid-thigh. Her shoes had a half-inch heel, and white leather laced over her feet and a quarter of the way up her calves. Her hair was now in a messy bun slightly higher on her head, relaxing the crisp look that had gone so well with her uniform earlier. All in all, her outfit played up the strengths of her lean, petite frame, and her bright smile was the icing on the cake.
SG-8 in particular did a double take when Jamie Evans came out a little while later. They were used to seeing their anthropologist in the loose BDUs people tended to wear at the project, and even when they did see her outside of work her clothes were light and flowing - comfortable, as she put it whenever they’d ask. Now she strolled by confidently, her brown hair tied back in a simple ponytail, plain red sneakers on her feet, and a spandex bicycling outfit in a swirled red, blue, and purple pattern hugging her very evident - and very attractive - curves. The open red windbreaker didn’t distract from the crop top tank or mid-thigh length shorts in the slightest. The woman laughed as she took in her team’s faces from the third row.
Sam was the last of the SGC representatives, taking her walk during the last third of the competition. While not entirely surprised, the rest of her team were fiercely reminded once again that, no matter how much it didn’t matter, Samantha Carter was most definitely a woman. Her sunlight colored hair had a windblown look and her cheeks were flushed like she had just come in from a ride on her motorcycle. She wore a man’s white dress shirt with only two buttons done up, just enough to allow her to maintain some semblance of decency as her stomach and a respectable amount of cleavage glowed warmly in the brilliant afternoon sun, and a pair of snug, worn light-colored jeans that followed the lines of her long, athletically-built legs. There was a thin, silver chain around her neck, and the charm that hung from it nestled comfortably in the hollow of her throat. The ribbon on the package was the just-this-side-of-cocky smirk the physicist couldn’t keep off her features as she made her run down the catwalk as professionally as any supermodel.
The fifteen minutes tallying time flew by when the second event was over. Ferretti spent the interval gloating and generally patting himself on the back. Hammond spoke with Kerrigan, who had the seat across the aisle to the bald man’s left, and Cassie reveled in the fact of her adoptive mother’s fine showing, as well as Sam’s, with the SGC people that surrounded her, continually trying to draw Teal’c into the conversation. Jack and Daniel had a whispered conversation discussing what they had just witnessed, both doing their best to avoid admitting just how much it had affected them. They all went wild when Sam and Janet were announced to have made the next cut, moving on to the talent competition.
“So what are they each doing for this?” Lou asked Cassie in a wheedling tone once they’d all returned to their seats after a light dinner.
It didn’t work. “I’m not telling. They wanted it to be a surprise.”
“I am sure that both Major Carter and Doctor Fraiser are extremely talented in whichever endeavors they have chosen to perform for this competition,” Teal’c assured the nervous man as the music began again a half hour later. Ferretti just grunted his concession of the point.
Sam was the first of the two remaining SGC competitors. She stepped out onto the center of the stage after she and her performance piece had been announced and gave a flourished bow as a small crew of people set up a drum kit behind her. She now wore a loose-fitting, cream-colored peasant’s blouse, sleeves gathered at the elbows as the forearms were tightly laced, a pair of snug, dark khaki bell bottoms that flared just above her ankles, and a pair of flat-soled light brown moccasins.
“Did you know Carter could play the drums?” Jack asked Daniel in a low tone.
“No,” Daniel replied, his eyes never moving from the spotlighted woman on the stage.
“Did you know she could play anything?”
“No.”
“Did you suspect she could play anything?”
“No.”
“Are you surprised?”
“No.”
“Do you think Jacob knows?”
“Will you just be quiet?”
Sam pulled out a pair of deep purple drumsticks from a back pocket and headed back to the completed kit. What came next had her friends at the SGC picking up their jaws. For the next three minutes, the entire audience was treated to an exemplary performance on the drums, the piece Sam had chosen quite complex. When it finished with an echoing crash of a cymbal, the applause was immediate. After a few beats, it turned into a roar as the SGC personnel got over their shock and added their input to the din. Sam laughed, bowed with a wide flourish, and left the stage.
The second half of the remaining contestants brought out Janet Fraiser, elegantly dressed in an ankle-length evening gown of a rich, royal green satin that shimmered in the waning light. Half of her hair was held up by a gold comb touched here and there with sparkling emeralds that matched the dainty chain that hung around her neck and its teardrop charm. She smiled playfully at the rows that held her fellows from under the mountain and gave a tiny wave to her daughter who laughed and returned it. Finally, music started streaming from the speakers, the microphone she had in her right hand was brought up to her lips, and she began to sing.
In the wedge that held the competing men and the women who had been cut as the day went along, Daniel and Jack were once again wowed by the talent of a lady they worked with closely and considered a friend. “This is ‘Teach Me Tonight’,” the younger man murmured as Janet worked the crowd with the suggestive, forties-era tune. “Natalie Cole did a version of this on her album ‘Stardust’. Did you know she could sing like this?”
Jack said nothing, his eyes as frozen on the diminutive doctor as Daniel’s had been on Sam and his jaw about ready to scrape the floor.
“Janet really looks great, don’t you think so?”
Again, no response.
“I wonder if anyone helped her pick that dress out. Cassie said she wouldn’t. Do you know?”
Silence from his left.
“Would you like me to get you a towel or a washrag or something? I wouldn’t want you to get drool all over yourself.”
Still without saying a word or turning his gaze away from the stage, Jack reached over and clapped a hand over Daniel’s mouth.
The brown-haired man sighed. “Or I can shut up,” his muffled voice concluded.
The crowd once again went wild when Janet finished, and the auburn-haired woman laughed, waved, and quickly exited the stage. It wasn’t too long after that when General Krenz announced the end of the final third of the bachelorettes’ competition. Once he was through with his concluding encouragement for everyone to come back tomorrow for the male half of the event, the various crowds from the various bases mulled together until their competitors had rejoined them then left for the night.
The SGC had done the same, congratulations offered all around to their five ladies, and especially to Sam and Janet. Lou took the opportunity to pull the CMO aside and fill her in on his last-minute activities involving the Marines from Yuma and received her blessing, complete with matching wicked grin. Teal’c shared the last of his morning’s haul with the rest of his team, Jack quickly snatching up the remaining pieces of salt water taffy much to Sam and Daniel’s frustration. The Jaffa promised to pick up some specifically for the two scientists the next day. And Friday night wrapped up with laughter and friendly companionship, everyone looking ahead to tomorrow with hopes of more of the same.
* * * * * * * *
The next morning began much the same way as the one before, Jack grumbling all the way to the cars at Cheyenne Mountain as the competitors once again traveled over to Peterson together, General Hammond securing the front few rows of the stage right center wedge for the SGC, and Teal’c joining the bald Texan with a cardboard tray filled almost to overflowing with snacks and junk food. This time, however, Hammond didn’t bother to comment on it, merely taking the offered soda and periodic pieces of candy.
Ferretti rubbed his hands together like an over-the-top villain as nine o’clock rolled around and the music that announced the beginning of the event started piping through the PA system. Cassie had pointed out the Lieutenant Colonel’s presence amongst the Marines from Yuma a half hour before, and everyone who saw shook their heads. This was either going to be a spectacular triumph or a disastrous fall, and no matter which way it went it was bound to be entertaining to watch.
“Hey, does anyone know what Daniel decided to wear today?” the teenaged girl in the second row asked, leaning forward.
“You mean you don’t know?” Lou asked, horrified. “I was counting on you to fill me in on that!”
The girl narrowed her eyes dangerously at the SG team leader. “I never said I knew anything about what the guys were going to do. Only Mom, Sam and the other girls showed their outfits to me. I don’t know what Jack, Daniel and the others are doing.”
“I am so dead.”
“Do not concern yourself, Colonel Ferretti,” Teal’c reassured the smaller man quietly as Krenz’s aide finished up his introduction of the bachelors and the three lines of men made their way from the back to the stage like the women the day before. “Each of the men participating in this event requested my opinion at one point. I feel confident they will do well today.”
Lou’s brow furrowed as he weighed the information he had been given. “So you know what they’re all wearing and doing?”
“That is not what I said. Each of the male participants from the SGC asked me at various times over the past three months for my opinion regarding choices they were considering for their casual clothing and talent entries. Thus I feel their chances are great that they will perform admirably today.”
“I was right before. I am so dead.” General Krenz made his appearance at that point and cut off any further discussion.
As had happened with the women, the Cheyenne Mountain Complex fivesome was announced as part of the last third of the contestants. “Our first gentleman from the mountain is Lieutenant David Michaels,” General Krenz introduced the eager young man from maintenance. He was five foot eleven and had dark blond hair and hazel eyes that were crinkled at the corners thanks to the huge smile he wore. His lean build was shown off nicely by his dress blues.
“Next is Sergeant Robert Erickson.” The well-built platinum blond from SG-14 wouldn’t have looked out of place at the local body-builders’ gym, belying his role as the team’s geologist. At six foot four, he towered over a lot of the contestants, but the mischievous glint in his light green eyes took away much of what could have been an intimidating air.
“First Lieutenant Graham Simmons.” The young man that had been so shy during the first years of the Stargate Program had grown much since then, the confident stride he used to walk down the runway ample evidence. His short brown hair looked lighter in the late morning light and his blue-green eyes twinkled as they gazed at the cheering SGC crowd.
General Krenz paused for a second when he saw the next name then gave the audience a wide grin. “Well, folks, it looks like the people at Cheyenne Mountain pulled out all the stops for our little contest. The next bachelor is the second in command of the base, Colonel Jonathan O’Neill.” Jack rolled his brown eyes as he moved out from behind the men that had already made their passes and headed for the catwalk. His silver hair sparkled in the sun, and he shot Hammond, Teal’c, Lou, and Cassie a wink as just before he turned to head back for the line-up at the base of the stage’s extension.
“And lastly, the only civilian participant from the complex, Doctor Daniel Jackson.” Jack paused for a second in surprise and the SGC group - including the five ladies in the wedge the men had taken up the day before - gasped loudly as Daniel made his way forward. He wore a precisely-tailored black tuxedo with a waist-length jacket that showed off his lean waist and hips while accentuating his wide shoulders and broad chest. The satin stripes on the outside of the legs of his snug slacks drew the eye along his long, muscular legs. The collarless white dress shirt with its sapphire-colored top button paid tribute to the bright blue eyes that were in no way diminished by the gold wire-rimmed glasses that rested on his nose. His brown hair was combed flat like he usually wore it at the project, but the sunlight showed off the blond highlights that had started to peek out ever since the last four-day mission SG-1 had returned from. Daniel smirked when he saw his surprise had its intended effect.
The crowd went wild when the quintet withdrew from the runway. “Okay, I take it back,” Lou said, his smug grin returning. “I’m not dead after all.”
The first and longest third of the competition finished soon enough afterward, and people grabbed lunch once the results were announced. “Isn’t it great, Uncle George?” Cassie exclaimed when she’d eaten her hot dog, bouncing on her padded metal folding chair. “Only one of our guys didn’t go on! This is wonderful!”
“It’s just too bad Michaels was so keen on this,” Nyan, Daniel’s longtime alien research assistant, commented from the young woman’s right. He’d managed to get a seat closer to the action than he had the day before. “David really wanted to impress his girlfriend.”
“Like Wilcox really cares about being Bachelor of the Year for the Four Corners Region,” Ferretti scoffed, referring to the woman in question, his team’s linguist. “Jennifer’s talked about nothing but Michaels for the last six months. This isn’t going to change anything.”
“And is it just me, or did things get hot when Daniel did his turn on the catwalk?” Cassie asked, fanning herself and grinning wickedly.
“Doctor Jackson was definitely a hit,” Hammond agreed, giving the girl an indulgent smile.
“I concur,” Teal’c added with a solemn nod, though his eyes were twinkling with knowledgeable amusement. “Daniel Jackson did indeed present himself as a very sexually attractive male.” The men that surrounded him gave the Jaffa odd looks while Cassie laughed.
To the far stage right Sam and Janet were having a similar discussion. “Can you believe that tux?” the blonde asked her petite friend incredulously. “The very definition of a perfect fit.”
“And what a body to package in one of those,” the auburn-haired doctor concurred. “I get to see it in the infirmary all the time, but that? Wow.”
“I mean, it’s one thing to know your friend and teammate is attractive on an intellectual level,” Sam continued, blinking a little more than normal. “But to have it thrust in your face like that is just a tad bit overwhelming.”
“The colonel was looking good as usual in his dress blues,” Janet commented.
The physicist nodded. “Yeah, he did. Where did Daniel get that tux? Who did he get to do the alterations?”
Janet looked at her friend and laughed. “I give up. You’re hopeless.”
Sam blinked at her. “What? What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Just... nothing.”
Any comeback Sam might have returned was cut off by the music from the speakers that signaled the beginning of the next part of the competition.
No one could make Daniel out clearly when the men filed back in, and everyone was trying - including Jack, Graham, and Robert on stage. Somehow the archaeologist had managed to tuck himself away amongst taller and bigger men. O’Neill resolved to have a few words with his wayward linguist about that.
Simmons was the first of the SGC men to take to the catwalk once again. He wore a burgundy polo shirt and a pair of light khakis, a pair of brown penny loafers on his feet. He was a real class act. And if his hands shook slightly as he stuck them in his pockets, his nerves finally starting to get to him, everyone was kind enough to overlook it. At least until they got back to the mountain. Then all bets were off.
Erickson came out a little while later, his very muscular build set off nicely by the fitted grey casual dress jacket over a black tank top and snug black slacks. His platinum blond hair was a mess of tiny spikes and practically glowed in the afternoon sunlight. He winked at his teammates as he turned at the foot of the catwalk then almost strutted back toward the risers.
A familiar sight met the eyes of Jack O’Neill’s friends and colleagues when he took his turn. He wore his light, black leather jacket over a ribbed black T-shirt that was a little more snug than usual and a pair of grey khakis. He exuded comfortable confidence as he walked the runway, giving the SGC crowd a knowing smile, and Teal’c, Hammond, Ferretti, and Cassie a wink.
“I’ve always loved that leather jacket,” Janet said with a small sigh.
“You do know that’s a replacement, don’t you? He lost the original on Thor’s ship when we dealt with the Replicators.”
“What’s your point?”
It was Sam’s turn to sigh as she rolled her eyes.
Krenz had reached the final ten contestants when Daniel’s name was finally called. He strolled out calmly, a worn denim jacket over his shoulders and a white T-shirt, and a pair of extremely worn jeans that hugged the long length of his legs. There were holes in the battered material - probably digs from his university days made them - interestingly placed just under the rear right-hand pocket and below his left knee, starting a debate as to whether or not the man was going commando. Halfway down the runway, the brown-haired man shrugged out of the jacket and hung it over his right shoulder, revealing that he was actually wearing a muscle shirt underneath that once again set off his wide shoulders and broad chest. He’d left his glasses behind this time, letting his bright blue eyes shine without anything getting in the way. His hair was lazily spiked, his blond highlights even more showcased than they had been before. Again, another well-wrapped package from the SGC.
“Why have I never seen him dressed like this before?” Sam practically moaned.
“Has there ever been a reason before?” Janet retorted.
The blonde woman sighed. “For the benefit of all women everywhere.”
The smaller woman snickered. “I don’t think he’d ever see it that way. I get the feeling that he’s hiding a whole lot of embarrassment. It’s not like we’re seeing him when he gets off stage after all.”
“Then I’ll just have to let him know he’s got nothing to be embarrassed about, won’t I?”
“Like I said before, you’re hopeless.”
Ferretti practically danced a jig when the contestants were named for round three, the SGC leaving only Robert Erickson behind. Hammond just silently led Cassie, Teal’c, and Nyan toward the concession stands while the wiry little man gloated. Fortunately, Lou had figured out what he had done wrong by the time they got back, so things were more bearable during the remainder of the wait for the talent competition.
Third up on the program was Daniel. He came out from the backstage area dressed in another black tuxedo, this one traditionally cut with tails and wide lapels, a white bow tie and cummerbund adding to the elegance of his appearance. A piano waited for him, and the linguist melodramatically flipped out the long ends of his jacket before seating himself on the bench, a quick grin and wink to his friends from the mountain enough to counter the conceited air he had drawn around himself for effect.
“He’s not,” Sam whispered incredulously.
“He’s not what?” Janet asked.
“I knew he had a piano - getting that thing into and out of storage was a pain in the ass - but I didn’t think he knew how to play it well enough to use it for a talent piece.” The blonde leaned forward, her sky blue eyes fixated on the sight of Daniel pulling off his white dress gloves finger by finger as haughtily as any master pianist from the movies.
The smaller woman smiled. “Apparently he does. This should be good. I’ve always known Daniel had a great sense of rhythm and beat. And I’ve always liked his taste in music.”
Sam shook her head in amazement. “This man is just full of surprises.” Janet just laughed at her friend, and the two of them waited for the show to begin.
What followed was an amazingly complicated concerto, a beautifully flowing composition of classical music that moved seamlessly from the darkest depths of despair to the highest heights of passion and beyond. Daniel lost himself in the emotionally stirring piece, his expression showing the kind of rapture his friends and colleagues had only seen before associated with certain wondrous discoveries through the gate. When the last note’s echo finally faded to nothing, and Daniel came back to the present with much blinking of eyes and a startled, abstracted look, the entire audience exploded into applause. The archaeologist blushed as he stood and gave a small, appreciative smile before escaping backstage.
Graham Simmons came out just past the halfway point dolled up in a tuxedo with tails of his own, this one white, his tie and cummerbund a pale violet. There was no sign of any instruments anywhere on the stage, and people were wondering just what the young man was going to do when the first strains of a big band style tune began piping through the speakers. Not long afterward, the sound of thin metal plates on the bottom of a pair of well-worn dance shoes clicking against the wooden surface of the stage rang out across the parade grounds. Graham ran through his routine with an innate grace and fluidity of movement no one from the SGC had previously expected. It was a fun bit of choreography, and the crowd laughed and clapped along with the beat while they marveled at the skill the young technician displayed. Another loud round of clapping concluded the performance.
Jack was announced just before the end of the program. He came out wearing a black dress shirt and grey slacks, the combination putting him on the dressier side of casual, and carrying an older, acoustic, six-string guitar. A stool had been set up in the center of the stage, and the colonel plopped himself onto it and double checked his instrument.
“Guitar?” Janet asked in shock, grabbing Sam’s arm as though to remind her she was still awake and on this plane of reality. “He plays guitar? Did you know?”
The taller woman shook her head, just as surprised. “No way. He’s never said anything that would suggest it. This should be interesting.”
“Did you know he even owned one of those?”
“Um, no. I might have had a clue otherwise, don’t you think?”
“He even knows how to handle it!” the auburn-haired woman whispered as Jack made a couple slight adjustments to the pegs before attaching the small microphone.
Sam couldn’t help but grin. “Well, yeah, that would probably explain why he’s playing it for the talent competition.”
“This is amazing.” Janet didn’t notice Sam’s stifled chuckle at her comment.
As soon as he was ready, the familiar notes of the instrumental sixties classic “Classical Gas” poured out crisp and clear. Jack’s fingers flew over the strings, and his attention was riveted to them to avoid any mistakes. This didn’t prevent a grin to transform his features, slowly growing as the song went on, finally blazing out to the crowd at large when it came to an end. One more time, the audience went wild for a member of the SGC.
“You really steamed things up out here, Daniel!” Ferretti declared to the once-again normal looking archaeologist as he and the other contestants joined the main group from Cheyenne Mountain after General Krenz gave his parting speech. “I never saw that one coming!”
“Yeah, Daniel, you were looking really hot!” Cassie agreed. Daniel blushed.
“So why did you wait to spring that on us?” Jack asked his friend, a suspicious look on his face. The younger man had to have been up to something, he just didn’t know what.
Everyone paid close, curious attention to the brown-haired man to hear how he’d respond. “Well,” Daniel began, “I know I was bugging people with my complaints.”
The crowd gathered around him scoffed in unison. “That’s an understatement,” Sam said with a gentle elbow to his ribs.
He smiled sheepishly as he continued. “Anyway, I figured you guys weren’t to blame for this... event... so I needed to stop. And if I couldn’t complain, I had to go the other way. I decided if I was going to do this, I was going to do what I could to win. I just hope it was enough.” The smile turned into a grin. “I also figured the looks on everyone’s faces when they saw the effort I’d put into this thing would be priceless. Thus, the secret. And I was right; it was worth it.”
“You are so lucky I don’t hurt you,” Jack threatened. “I nearly had a heart attack on the runway when you first came out in that black tux.”
“Like I said, completely worth it.”
Comments, compliments, and kidding continued on for a little while longer before everyone departed for a good night’s rest in preparation for the third and final day of the contest. They were starting to look forward to it, anticipating the results that would be announced at the end of the day, as well as the lip sync contest that would precede it. Yes, tomorrow promised yet more fun and games - and hopefully honor and glory for the SGC.
* * * * * * * *
“All right, troops,” Jack said in the middle of the Peterson Air Base parking lot the next morning as he paced in front of the other nine competitors and the other members of the SGC they had recruited to help out with their lip sync entry. “I’m thinking we’ve already made a really good showing here this weekend, thanks to Carter and Daniel, our two resident sex pots.”
“Thank you so very much,” Daniel threw back at him sarcastically as Sam shot him a vicious glare.
Jack ignored them. “But we’re not through yet. First and foremost, this is supposed to be the ‘base’ event, where we pit base versus base instead of individual against individual. Reason one to kick butt. Second, I’m convinced that our little ditty will tell these people what we really think of this thing loud and clear. Reason number two to kick butt. Now, no one let it slip what song we’re going to do, right?”
Janet and Ferretti shot each other impish looks. “Uh, no, Colonel,” Fraiser replied, fighting off a wicked grin. “The SGC grapevine never got a hold of that one, although there are a lot of guesses.”
“And when the two people in charge of that grapevine tell you so, you know it’s true,” Sergeant Walter Davis added with a grin.
Jack nodded his concession of the point. “That being said, I want you all to go out there and show them what we’re made of. Of course, the most important thing to keep in mind while we do this...” He paused dramatically, letting his gaze travel over each of the people standing in front of him. “Have fun out there, people. This is all worthless if you don’t have fun.” The silver-haired colonel took a quick glance to his right and tensed up. “Okay, Hammond’s coming,” he announced in a rush. “Meeting’s over. Let’s win this thing, kids.” He made shooing motions with his hands as he turned to intercept his commanding officer.
“Worthless if we don’t have fun, huh?” Daniel said to Sam as the two of them headed off for the parade grounds and their reserved seats.
“Well, of course, ‘Michael’,” she shot back, grinning, threading her arm through his. “Don’t you think so?”
He sighed as he fought back a smile. “I suppose so, ‘Stephanie’. I even think I’ll have some. I’m just nervous about the reaction we’re going to get.”
Sam laughed. “Don’t be. This is for boosting our morale, remember? Fun is what it’s all about.” They moved on to their seats, the archaeologist’s steps lighter as neither of them realized they hadn’t released the other and continued to stay close to one another.
“Come on, ‘Johnny’,” Janet said, lips twitching, as she came up to Jack and started pulling lightly on his arm. “We need to get to our seats. Everything’s about to start. Sorry, sir,” she apologized to General Hammond, who watched the interplay with a mix of surprise and amusement.
Jack glanced at his watch and his eyes widened. “Crap, you’re right. It’s almost nine, sir. You should grab a seat yourself.”
“Murray should be saving one for me,” Hammond replied, pale blue eyes twinkling. “And he’ll have breakfast, at least if the past two days are any indication.”
O’Neill couldn’t help but grin at the memory. “Save me some salt water taffy, would you, sir? It seems the big guy’s developed quite a taste for it.”
“Of course.”
Janet gave the SGC’s 2IC another tug. “Come on.”
“Yes, ‘Paulette’,” he acquiesced with a playful roll of his eyes. Hammond just watched the pair hurry off, shaking his head, then turned and left himself. Hopefully Teal’c would have a raspberry-jelly-filled donut left.
Go to part four
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