Disclaimer: Just having fun with the characters for a little bit. Promise to give them back. Don't own them, never will. Sigh...


So, their last mission had been a blast, apparently.

If you weren't a member of SG1, that is.

After all, everybody getting so close to downright nekkid was just sooooo darned funny.

If you weren't them.

But she was. One of them. And she was currently massively embarrassed.

As she walked through the corridors of the SGC, she avoided looking at any of the personnel she passed. She might be fully dressed now, but she was well aware of the efficiency of the base grapevine.

She knew they were beyond curious.

They were probably betting.

It galled her.

Remembering how they had all fallen through the gate, in only their underwear, just relieved to be home.

And then the wide eyes and the stifled laughter of the masses and the General's voice, so harsh.

"Are you injured?" he had asked.

At the Colonel's negative, he had barked, "Get dressed and into the briefing room now."

God, he was not happy.

The debrief had been suitably subdued. There was no doubt that despite the odd circumstances of their capture and return, they had all followed proper SOP.

Nothing untoward had occurred between any of the members of the team.

She had watched as the General breathed an internal sigh of relief.

And now she was walking.

And she was ashamed. Not because of the nature of their return, though frankly that was reason enough to be feeling it.

But because one particular image from their humiliating disrobing would not leave her.

For all that Teal'c and Daniel were handsome and muscular, she had been internally unmoved when they had been laid bare.

But she just couldn't get it out of her head. Colonel O'Neill, her darned CO, the man she could not find attractive, ever, really was.

He was extensively scarred, most of his hair was grey, he was old, so much older than her, but for some reason, despite their situation, seeing his shirt ripped away had been indescribably hot.

He was almost lanky. But he was lean and massively strong.

So masculine.

She could see it.

She had once said that his abdomen was a miracle, but only because he was no longer a Jaffa.

She had so been in denial. His abdomen was a miracle, but so was the rest of him, now that she had seen almost all of it.

And she didn't know how things would ever be the same again.

She was in a real jam.

How could she go on, taking orders from him, being professional, when all she could see in her mind when she looked at him was his perfectly toned chest?

She knew she had to.

They had far too much to do.

But how?