A Certain Blond Major
Here is a short humor ficlet, inspired by two sentences I wrote for another story and a smart aleck remark from Roommate.
Colonel Jack O'Neill had been sleeping, actually he'd been dreaming of a certain blond Major. The dreams hadn't exactly been G-rated either. He and the vivacious blond had performed all sort of sexual acrobatics. And at the end, the blond had smiled, a sated smile, touched his face and said, "Colonel, I could only love someone with a higher rank than I."
Jack frowned, shook his head and stared at his bed partner. Holy Hannah! It was Margaret Hot-Lips Houlihan!
The shock was enough to wake Jack up. He sprung from the bed and hurried to the bathroom to wash his face. There, looking in the mirror, he made a promise to himself.
Never again would he watch a MASH marathon while eating leftover pizza. Jack shuddered. Never, ever again.