Disclaimer: Just having fun with the characters for a little bit. Promise to give them back. Don't own them, never will. Sigh...
Debriefing
He tapped his fingers restlessly on the table top. Athough they had met with the General shortly after their oh-so-humiliating and so very nearly naked return through the gate, it was time for the proper debriefing.
Debriefing. Ha diddley ha ha. About the only thing thing that hadn't happened back there.
He tried not to think about it. He really did, but what asshole scion of socio-political military geekdom (he was covering all bases) had, at some time in the distant past, decided to call this type of meeting a debriefing?
It made it hard not to think abut the events of the day. In all sorts of ways, some of which were also very wrong.
But he had to think about something to tune out Daniel's endless yammering about their latest hilarious cultural misunderstanding. Not briefs though. Definitely not black ones. Really not thinking about those. Or long, slender legs. That seemed to go on forever. Or the black sports bra that cupped and supported her...hell!
He was in a jam, maybe even a pickle. Nope, it was worse than that. He had boarded the express train to trouble and he knew it.
He had always believed he had honed his skills in the area of not thinking down to a fine art. Obviously not today. No. Not when it would have been actually helpful.
But he suddenly came up with a useful thought. This wasn't a debriefing. Oh no. It was a meeting on what had gone wrong. It was a...he struggled for a moment to phrase it properly in his mind...post-mission analysis! Yes!
He visibly brightened. He might even have been grinning.
That was until he realised where his eyes had been somewhat fixed for the last ten minutes. Let's just say that he had an epiphany of sorts, only sooo not a good one.
He sure hadn't been staring at the Major's face for the duration of the post mission analysis, anyway.
And that sort of thing would not, unfortunately, have gone by entirely unnoticed here. He could hope, but he really knew better. They would all have seen him gawping like a hormonal teenager at Carter's (admittedly awe inspiring but ultimately way off limits) breasts.
Damn!
He slammed his eyes shut, only to find that the events of the day had apparently burned some really inappropriate and unfairly hot visions of his 2IC onto the back of his eyelids.
Probably permanently.
He screwed up his face as the General spoke.
"Are you alright, Colonel?"
Then he blew it. Spectacularly. In true Jack O'Neill fashion, he engaged his mouth before his perfectly understandable male verbal smut filter had time to drop into place.
"Just something in my eyes, Sir."
He cringed inwardly. Given that Daniel had suddenly stopped gabbling about the darn-tooting wonderful people on P5X-39...whatever, it was clear that even the space monkey knew what had been in his eyes for a little while now.
He descrunched his face and sent an apologetic look towards the Major.
She was blushing. It was cute. She was soooo hot.
Oh crap!