Jack the Crooner

Spoilers: None

A/N: I found this challenge for a Stargate fic:

Must have/include/be:
1. Gloria Estefan songfic.
2. Jack locates a musical instrument and croons his luuuuurve to another member of SG-1.
3. Butter as lube.
4. Naming a Sam/Jack baby after AT's real kid.
5. Or RDA's.
6. Naming a beagle after MS's real kid.
7. Or RDA's. 8. "Snug channel."
9. "Throbbing manhood."
10. "Impaled herself on his greatness."

It looked really cool so I came up with this:

sg-1-sg-1-sg-1-sg-1-sg-1

Jack blew into his 16th century wooden lute, which was sorta odd considering that one strums a lute, but that was just his way. His father played it that way and his father's father played it that way.

"Come on, shake your body baby, do the conga..." Jack sang between puffs.

Sam lay at his side, sighing at their perfect little bundle who was at that moment hanging off of her right boob.

Jack smiled at Olivia Wylie and blew into the lute's snug channel. "I know you can't control yourself any longer..."

"Jack?" Sam cooed.

"Flipper?" Jack asked back, having lost too much oxygen from all that blowing.

"Oh dear, daddy's going down."

"All hail my throbbing manhood!" Jack yelled before slumping over.

He awoke finding himself wet and sticky. For a moment he wondered if Sam had impaled herself on his greatness while he was out, but he didn't seem to be in a state of bliss. And whatever was making himself wet was kinda smelly. Definitely not Sam.

lick

Jack opened an eye to Wylie II and Mia, their two pet wienerdogs, licking his face.

"Do the conga?" Jack asked.

They licked him again.

Jack blinked at the licking dogs. He could have sworn that there was a butter smell mixed in with the dog smell.

"Sam?" he yelled.

She yelled back from what sounded like the kitchen. "Yeah?"

"Why do the dogs smell like butter?"

"You know we accidentally installed a cat door, right? Well, they need a little lubing from time to time to fit through. So I butter them up."

"You butter my wieners?"

"Every chance I get."

The End.