A/N: Former readers from here may have noticed most of my stories have disappeared. They are all publicly available on "archive of our own dot org (slash) users (slash) Nynaeve" (remove the spaces). I don't know if I'll be as faithful updating here, but I'm putting up some of my T or lower rated stories and just recommend you check my complete collection on AO3. Peace out.

A/N2: Written also for SaraBahama who wanted something a shippy, in canon, and not too guttery for explaining exactly what happened on P3X-595.

The negotiations for a cultural exchange had gone smoothly, without a single shot, arrow, or tense word being traded, which is why Jack was surprised to see Daniel being accosted by the short, matronly chieftain's wife during the post-talks festivities. The woman was shaking a black garment in the archaeologist's face and jabbing him repeatedly in the ribs, all while shouting at him. Jack was too far away to make out the topic of her consternation, so he worked his way through the crowd to tap Daniel on the shoulder.

"I thought I was the one in charge of making the natives angry," he commented, making a valiant attempt to give a friendly smile to the woman who continued to glare at both of them.

"Yeah…um…about that…" Daniel started, and Jack's eyes fixed onto the article of clothing that was being held aloft.

"Is that…?"

"Yup."

He frowned. "Why is she waving a bra at you?"

"Uh. Okay." Daniel cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. "She thinks it's a harness by which we keep our women subdued."

Jack blinked. "Our women?"

"Captain Carter."

"Sam?" he echoed. "Oh for crying out…"

The plump woman thrust the bra forward and Jack noticed the telltale 'Victoria's Secret' tag poking out from the side. The woman was now joined by several other women, all demanding a defense for Sam's underwear choices.

"Can't you clear this up?"

"I've been trying to."

He sighed. "Well, keep trying. I'm going to go find Sam. Maybe she can shed some light on what happened."

Daniel turned back to the women in order to make yet another attempt to get a word in edgewise while Jack took the opportunity to blend into the rest of the crowd, away from the accusing stares. After a few moments of searching, he located Sam at the back of the hall, seated with several younger girls who were mesmerized by her short, blonde tresses. She was speaking with animation and if he didn't know better, he would have called her 'giddy'. Her nose was bright red and in her hands she held a wooden cup. Pieces began to fall into place and he couldn't keep from smirking. In retrospect, Jack figured he probably should have given Sam more than a 'be careful' pep talk when it came to imbibing alien concoctions.

"'Scuse me, ladies," he addressed. He motioned for Sam to come towards him. "Captain."

"Sir!" It sounded almost like a squeal of delight and Jack winced. She stood up, looking a bit disheveled to say the least, but she was fully clothed. Mostly. He couldn't help but notice that she seemed freer underneath her black t-shirt. He forced himself to focus on her eyes.

"So, how many of those have you had?" he asked, plucking the cup out of her hands.

Sam shrugged and she wavered in her gait. "I don't know. Two? Three? They kept giving them to me. I didn't want to offend them."

"Makes sense," Jack conceded, sliding a hand to her lower back to guide her away from the group. "Did you engage in any other kind of cultural exchange that I should know about?"

"They had me try some different foods. Then the chieftain's wife was curious about our local fashion…" She stopped and her arms flew up across her chest. "My… Oh. Sir. My… uh…"

"Yes. I know. Your harness by which I keep you oppressed."

She coughed. "She was asking so many questions. I don't even remember taking…it…off…" Her cheeks flushed.

Jack pointed over to where Daniel was working to placate the irate woman. "She definitely had some questions."

"Holy Hannah. That's my…and she's waving…" She hid her face in her hands just as Daniel was able to take possession of the bra. He glanced over at Jack and Sam and gave them a thumbs up. "I must have had more to drink than I thought. Sir…"

"No worries, Captain. It happens to all of us," he assured her.

"Somehow I doubt that," she replied, her voice muffled.

"Well, I haven't had this exact situation happen. I should tell you about the time I lost my pants in Turkey."

Sam let out a groan of embarrassment, but managed to look up to meet his gaze. "I'm never going to live this down, am I?"

Jack grinned and started nudging her towards Daniel so she could reclaim her missing article of clothing. "Not at all. I only have one question though."

"Sir?" she choked out.

"When I write up my report should I phrase it 'bra' or 'brassiere'?"