summary: silliness for jara.
a/n: with thanks to julie.
disclaimer: i do not own
"Care to explain this?"
Jack threw the crumpled piece of paper on top of her desk and stood back, folding his arms and glowering. Sam glanced at it, moved the piece of paper carefully off the blinky *thing* she was working on, and looked up at him.
"What I want to know," he said, enunciating every word clearly, "is how *that* ended up all over Base."
"I have no idea, sir."
Her innocent look was really quite remarkable.
"No idea, Carter?"
"None at all?"
She sighed. "You don't believe me, do you?"
"Who else would take a picture of me in that – thing – and post pictures of it all over every notice board?"
Her eyes sparkled. "Daniel?"
"Daniel doesn't know how to work the digital."
"He wouldn't," he said with conviction.
"You were teasing him pretty thoroughly about his cowboy hat, sir. Maybe he thought this would be a fair exchange?"
"I know it wasn't him, Carter, because it was *you*."
She laughed and stretched her arms high above her head. Her shirt hitched up and Jack's eyes were drawn irresistibly to the inch of flat stomach that appeared.
Sam lowered her arms and the stomach disappeared. Damn.
"What are you so upset about, sir?"
That was easy. "Because pictures of me in a KILT are all over Cheyenne Mountain?"
"The Telarian's don't see a problem with it, sir."
"The Telarian's – " Jack choked back a howl of rage. Barely. "The *Telarian's* were ruled by the women."
"That's probably why – "
She stopped mid-sentence.
Silence. Then he got it.
"Women find that attractive?"
Sam opened her mouth and then shut it. She looked down at the table.
"You're kidding. Why?"
Sam shrugged. The gadget on her desk was suddenly interesting her. "I don't know, sir."
She gestured helplessly. "Uh – well – "
Carter was *blushing*? He leaned closer.
"What about you, Carter?"
Her voice was definitely higher pitched.
"Do *you* find that attractive?"
The gadget dropped out of her hand and smashed onto the desk with a metallic crunch. Little pieces tinkled all over the floor, and Sam flushed bright red.
"I – ah – I – " She dove under her desk. "Of course not, sir."
"You don't?" he asked, stuffing his hands in his pocket and subduing the childish urge to punch the air with his fist and yell `Yessss!'.
"No, sir." Her voice was muffled.
"Ah. Well, I won't keep you from your work," he said, pleased at how nonchalant he sounded.
"Thank you," she said, placing some fragments on the table before dropping out of sight again.
He walked to the door, opened it and then turned.
"Oh, and Carter?"
She reappeared, clutching something that looked like a tiny screwdriver. "Sir?"
Her neck was still red.
He smiled at her. Evilly. "You can keep that photo."
Sam stared at him blankly for a moment and then her eyes washed slowly over his body.
She smirked and his heart stopped.
"Thank you, sir. But I have the – " her eyes dropped over him again – "original."