Title: Arabesque Chapter One: "Party Girls"

Authoress: Matty Dreamer

Rating: G ( will definately go up later)

Summary: Meet Amy Allston, Samantha Brooks, and Rachael Pierce as they prepare for a big party.

Archiving: Yes, please! E-mail me at to tell me where you put it!

Pairing: None yet

Reviews: The more you review, the more I'm encouraged to update. Please give me more than "It was good." While that's nice to hear, it doesn't help me at all. Pick out any grammatical errors. Tell me what you think of my characters, their interactions, etc.

Beta'd by: Sh'arra Rie, Ceromorrigan Yuy, and Starra Winters. Please check out their stories as well.

Authoress' Note: Keepers of the Wild is a real organization, stationed in Northern Arizona, just a few hours outside of Las Vegas. They really do take in exotic animal that have been abused and such and give them a wonderful home and a new chance at life. If you'd like to know more or think you'd like to make a donation to this worthy cause, please go to . An obi is the sash at the waist of a kimono

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate SG-1 or any related materials. Amy and Rachael are on loan to me from somewhere else. Sammie and all other characters you don't recognize are probably mine.

Chapter One: Party Girls

"Amy!" yelled Samantha Brooks as she rapped her knuckles sharply on the bathroom door. "Did you die in there or what? Hurry up or we'll be late! Amy? Are you listening to me?"

The bathroom door opened suddenly, and Amy Allston stood in the doorway towel drying her short, curly, brown hair, with an amused look on her face. "Of course I'm listening, Sammers. I always listen to you." she replied sweetly. Samantha only rolled her green eyes, shoving Amy's pink dress at her friend with an exasperated growl before turning and storming off to her bedroom bureau. She picked at the pile of long red and blond curls that streamed down from her ornate bun. Amy smiled triumphantly, at her best friend's retreating back. It was too easy to get her all riled up at times like this, but she just couldn't resist. Her smile grew reproachful as Sammie fidgeted with her hair. "Would you quit that? I spent way too long on those curls for you to go and ruin them with your nervous energy! What's this thing you're supposed to be speaking for, again?" Amy asked, wincing internally at what she knew was coming. Okay, so maybe she'd only heard all about this function every day for the last month, but she had to do something to get Sammie to stop messing with her hair. Hearing it once more wasn't going to kill her... she hoped.

"It's one of those pro bono events for Ficorp. Because Scott's making so much money with his new software programs and everything, he has to do some major charity work or he'll never survive tax time."

" So he asked me what I thought, because he does that sometimes, you know, and I said that I thought he should do something for Keepers of the Wild, that place up north, and so he did and now I have to convince all these other extremely rich people that they should match Ficorp's donation of $50,000, and they'll probably not like me or won't listen and I'm so not ready for this and...and...and..."

Amy could only smile and shake her head, as she tied the waist of her slip. "Sammie," she said, not looking up. "You'll be fine."

" But, it's not like I'm Rachael or anything. I'm not any good at this! She's the professional! I should've had her do it!" Samantha replied, her voice reaching a panicky high pitch. As though summoned by her name, Rachael Pierce wandered into the bedroom, running her delicate hands over the elegantly embroidered silver and white dragons on her light blue kimono.

" Has anybody seen my-"she began to ask.

" Sammie? Breathe!" Amy interrupted. "Rachael, you left them on the coffee table next to phone."

"Thank you!" Rachael said over her shoulder, as she breezed out. Her round face tight with anxiety, Sammie turned, carefully applying lip liner with a slightly trembling hand. With a key from her little clutch purse, Amy unlocked the bottom drawer of the oak dresser. The drawer was lined in soft gray foam, three shapes cut into the spongy material. Two were empty hollows, but in the third lay a 9mm handgun, with a cartridge and strap. With the strap in place around her slim, muscled thigh, Amy loaded the gun and slipped it to its holster. With her pink gown laid over her slip, she was ready for a party!

At the doorway, all three girls stopped, looking each other over. There was Rachael, in a blue kimono that perfectly matched her eyes, and a red obi. Her blondish brown hair done up in chopsticks with crystal teardrops hanging from them. Dangling from her ears were the matching earrings she'd thought she'd lost. Sammie wore a long red dress that slit up to mid-thigh. A thin halter strap held it on, barely. Her full, red lips moved as she silently went over her speech for the millionth time. Amy had somehow managed to convince her rebellious curls to behave. Tiny, glittery, pink butterflies hid among the chestnut ringlets, winking in the light whimsically. Her long pink ball gown (a la Audrey Hepburn) was covered in patterns of iridescent beads and long white gloves crawled up past her elbows. After staring at each other in awe and excitement for a long moment, the girls hurried as quickly (and carefully) as they could in their high heels to Rachael's red Pontiac Transport (A.K.A. the non-regulation skulking van.).