Disclaimer: Not mine. Set: s8. (I pretend there is no Pete--and I so need an acronym for that) Rating: PG Notes: Fluff. for ref: http:www.af.mil/media/photodb/web/web030709-F-3050V-073.jpg

Dedication: to Liz, who made it possible.

Painted Blue by Ana Lyssie Cotton

Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter wasn't often speechless. In fact, it took a very determined person to even get her to stop talking (once she'd started technobabbling--although her plants seemed to like it). So it came as a shock, to General Jack O'Neill, when all she could do was stare.


She jerked her head away from the table and looked at him. "Sir?" There was disbelief in her voice.

"Colonel," he said patiently, "The SGC is being asked to participate in a 'marketing survey' to determine if the new Air Force BDUs are acceptable."

"They're hideous, sir." The bald honesty in her words made him smile.

"I'm not saying they aren't, Carter."

"But what you are saying is that I have to wear them." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." He paused, and a grimace slipped across his face. "I'm sorry, Carter, you were specifically requested as one of the test subjects. I think someone out there has a grudge."

"This wouldn't surprise me," she muttered, her tone dark as she stared, once again, at the table.

"Could be one of Kinsey's brats, or--"

"Sir?" She interrupted him, turning suddenly hopeful crystal-clear blue eyes on him. "Do I really...."

"I'm sorry, Carter." Jack was repeating himself. He didn't care. "You're to wear them for the next seven duty shifts on base."

"And off-world?"

"Still green."

Her eyes closed for a moment, and he swore she muttered "thank God" but he didn't ask. "I'll wear them on one condition, sir."

"Conditions, Colonel?" His eyebrow raised.

She met his eyes, hers almost expressionless. "That you wear them ,too."

Gah. She was so, so, innocent. And he so should know better. "Colonel, I am not required--"

"Then I won't wear them."


"What're you going to do, General, dress me yourself?" Her tone mocked him, her eyes challenged him.

A smirk crossed his lips, "Sure. Do I get to undress you, first?"

Her eyes widened. "Depends."

"I am not wearing that hideous uniform, Carter."

"Then neither am I." She crossed her arms and glared defiantly.

"I could charge you with insubordination."

"Yes, you could." A smirk touched her lips, "And then I'd have to bring up the fact that you offered to undress me."

Damn. She played dirty. His eyes narrowed. "Carter."

"Or, you could just wear them with me. Sir."

He sighed. She had won, and she knew it. Still, there had to be some dignity he could salvage. "One condition."

"Oh?" Her eyebrows raised.

"I still get to undress you."

The grin on her lips twisted into a smirk. "Not if I undress you first."