If you take this seriously, you should have your head examined. It would never happen on either Stargate series, but oh man is it a funny thought. In fact, I think I might reuse the same concept for a different purpose later. Be gentle with me, as this is my first try at something in the SG1 'verse (I'm an Atlantis girl, ordinarily...I just have this thing for writing McKay).
Oh who am I kidding. Beat me up later if you don't like it, I don't mind...but I had to do it. The evil little plot bunnies under my desk refused to stop nibbling at my ankles until I did. For all of you out there that read this and don't get the fact that it's just a ridiculous bit of stupidity (I've heard horrible things about the SG1 fandom and how bloody serious everyone is about everything) done in pure fun, I apologize and hopefully I can beg my way off the executioner's block.
He owed her for this. He owed her big.
Samantha Carter, Colonel in the United States Air Force, scientist, genius and all around good person, had never been classified by anyone as a girly girl.
Not that she wasn't considered attractive by the male of the species (or the female, for that matter...there was that one time she wandered into that bar by mistake) but she was never one to dress up and flaunt herself in hopes of gaining the attentions of a man. It just went against her grain to slap a thick mask of make-up on her face and play dress-up. She was always infinitely more comfortable in her fatigues than in something pink and frilly (which honestly, who could blame her for that?) and never thought much about parading around, competing with other women in the looks department.
Her current situation, however, called for just such behavior.
When General O'Neill had approached her about helping out with a fundraiser for a children's cancer research charity that the President was involved with, she had gladly volunteered. Really, how could she have turned him down without looking like a jerk? Besides, the SGC wasn't very busy lately and it would only be a couple of days worth of paperwork or something, right?
Leave it to Jack O'Neill to think up a fundraising tactic like a bachelorette auction.
Granted, it wasn't anything untoward; everything was on the up and up, and it was just going out to dinner with whoever ended up 'buying' her, but still...it was degrading.
Carter glared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, taking in the cut of the navy blue dress and wishing she could complain about it not being modest enough or something just so she would have an excuse not to go out in front of the three hundred people gathered in the main ballroom. However, it was a tasteful piece of work, which, had she been the sort to wear ball gowns on a regular basis, she might have picked it out herself.
A knock at the door startled her to the point that she almost jumped.
When she opened it, she found Jack standing there, a smile that was a borderline smirk on his face, "Ready, Carter?"
Her brain sang as she took his offered arm, Bastard, bastard, bastard.
But damn didn't he look good in a tuxedo.
Of course, everyone looked good in a tuxedo. She was relatively certain that she could have seen Quasimodo himself in a top hat and tails and would have found something about him to be charming.
She kept repeating the words 'For A Good Cause' over and over again in her head until they lost all meaning completely while he lead her behind the curtain to the 'stage' where she would be auctioned off.
They both stood there for several minutes, waiting for her turn to come up.
When her name was announced, she was brought out from behind the curtain and her breath was taken away by the sheer volume of people in the ballroom.
There must have been at least three hundred guests, all of them waiting to bid on the bachelorettes.
"You owe me for this, sir," she said through gritted teeth that made up a plastered on grin, wishing for all the world that she hadn't agreed to this idiocy.
"I'll make it up to you," he said from the corner of his mouth as he lead her up the stage to the auction block, which was a small riser in the center of the stage and left her there.
Carter searched the audience for a friendly face and found Daniel Jackson in the front row, smiling at her. He waved a small roll of bills through the air, indicating that he had every intention of bidding on her so that she could avoid having to go out with anyone distasteful.
They had discussed that eventuality before the auction, and she was incredibly grateful to have someone like Daniel on her side in this instance.
"Do I hear fifty?" The auctioneer said lightly, "Fifty dollars?"
A man in the front row raised his hand and thusly, the bidding began.
First fifty, then a hundred, followed by two hundred...three, four and five fifty.
When a General with a reputation for bawdy behavior bid on her, she was immensely relieved when Daniel beat his bid.
It was starting to look like she'd only have to endure dinner with one of her closest friends when suddenly, a man in the audience called out, his voice louder than any of the others that had been bidding on her.
"I'll pay twelve thousand dollars!"
Carter's eyes got positively huge at the sight of the man who stood up, waving a humungous wad of cash through the air and the only coherent thought that she could come up with was that maybe not every guy looked good in a tux.
In fact, some of them looked pale and pasty and not at all attractive or dapper.
"I hear twelve thousand, do I hear twelve thousand and fifty?"
Carter said a silent prayer, begging the powers that be that someone...anyone would outbid him.
"Twelve thousand going once-"
Carter looked at Daniel in panic and he could only give her a slightly apologetic shake of the head. He didn't have nearly that much cash on hand.
"Twelve thousand going twice-"
She turned her attention to the General who had gotten her into this mess and glowered at him.
"Twelve thousand going three times-"
O'Neill shrugged as the Auctioneer called out her fate.
"SOLD for twelve thousand dollars to Doctor Rodney McKay!"
There was a triumphant cry from the audience as Carter turned on O'Neill and glared at him so fiercely he should have been set alight.
Oh did he ever owe her for this.
A/N: La la la la la...I've been up for like...sixty hours and this just popped into my head. I had to write it down, no matter how stupid it was, and hopefully, someone enjoyed it. If not...well, I can't blame you.
If you'll excuse me, I'm going to pass out now.