A/N : Now here's an idea for a poll…does Jack O'Neill play footsies? You guys rock when it comes to reviewing! Even your friendly criticism is fueling my writing. Keep it up.

Day 3 (am)

General Hammond looked around the meeting room table and noted that Teal'c appeared to be the only one who looked reasonably well rested. Even the SGC General himself had had a restless night. He had told Colonel Jack O'Neill that he was an attractive woman! That thought – the whole incredulity of it – had kept him up all night…and in more than one way.

Jack stared at his 2IC. Okay, sureyayoubetcha, there were times when he really – really – wanted to kiss her but never where he felt weak in the knees. But last night…wow…he had come really darn close to swooning in Sam's arms. And he –Colonel Jonathan O'Neill – did not swoon…it was so un-Jack-like.

Sam avoided Jack's gaze by observing her fingernails. Last night, she had felt a primitive need to lay claim to her C.O. To take him…to make him hers. She was woman (hah!) enough to admit that she desired Jack, but she had never felt such a raw consuming need to claim him, to mark him as taken. That whole touched virus thingie aside. She shuddered as the sensations coursed through her.

Janet had spent all night in the lab analyzing the latest round of bloodwork from the SG1 team. It was because of the test results that the team was now here. She stifled a yawn and glanced at Daniel beside her.

Daniel twitched in his chair, rubbing his upper back along the leather. He frowned, rubbed his shoulders and kept running his hand under his shirt, as if scratching.

"Tell me you didn't sleep with the bra on, Daniel." Janet whispered.

He looked at her guiltily.

"I thought it would help me get used to it faster."

"Daniel!" Janet's voice was sharp and louder than she intended.

"Is there a problem, Doctor Frasier?" General Hammond asked from his position at the head of the table. Jack sat beside him and the General found himself idly wondering if the Colonel knew how to play footsies.

"Uh, no sir…" Came the weak response.

"Then perhaps we get this over and done with?" The Texan asked, wishing he could just escape before he made an ass of himself soon.

"Yes, sir." Janet took a deep breath. "As you know, we've taken several blood tests from you since you returned from your last mission."

"And I've got the marks to prove it." Jack rolled up his sleeve. "I look like a junkie."

Janet pursed her lips but ignored the Colonel.

"It appears that your DNA is continuing to modify your genders. If we do not find a cure and soon, the effects of this incident may be irreversible."

"You mean we'll be stuck like this?" Carter gasped.

"Hey, at least you'll be able to pee standing up, Carter. Saves time." Jack replied.

"Can't you slow the process down?" Daniel asked.

"We can try hormonal therapy, but in the end…" Janet started.

"…Daniel and I would look like we're members of the East German women's swim team. Got it." Jack hung his head in his hands.

A/N : No insult intended, fyi, to people from the former East German country and/or members of their women's swim team.

"Okay, so let's say our gender change is permanent…" Daniel started.

"Daniel…" Jack's muffled voice warned.

"Look, Jack, we need to plan this out…understand what we're dealing with here." Daniel turned to Janet. "What are the long term effects? I mean, we're still us, right?"

Janet sighed.

"I believe so. However, you and the Colonel will be women…subject to womanly traits. Things that go beyond shaving and menopause. We're talking moods, emotions…"

"PMS." Jack supplied looking up. "And Carter?"

Sam looked at Jack while Janet answered.

"Male tendencies…aggression, territorial…you are…were…are…a man. You know what men deal with."

Jack groaned. He had a funny feeling that the aggression and territorial nature of maleness showed itself last night in his quarters.

He looked up to address the General and found the older man looking at him funnily.

Don't go there, Jack…don't go there…oh god, he was hitting on me! I said don't go there, but did you listen to me? NooOOOooo...I'm just going to sit in a dark corner and hum dirty little sea shanties...

"Sir, permission to return to P6Y dash…uhh...permission to return to the funky planet that did this to us." Jack requested.

"Denied, Colonel." Hammond replied.

"But sir!" Jack protested loudly.

Okay, that was girly.

"No 'but's', Colonel. Until we know exactly how this happened, that planet is off limits to all Stargate personnel."

"But how can we determine how this happened unless we go back?" Sam asked. "Maybe whatever changed us can change us back."

"That's a 'maybe' I'm not willing to risk, Major." Hammond said firmly.

"Perhaps I can go alone." Teal'c offered. "It did not change me before."

"How long until the effect becomes permanent, Doctor Frasier?" Hammond asked.

"I'd say72 hours." Was the response.

"Teal'c…I don't like sending you in alone."

"He could have a MALP as an escort. Not exactly a great defensive partner, but it will record events and act as a sentry while Teal'c investigates." Daniel suggested.

"You have a go, Teal'c. Good luck." Hammond stood up and left. He popped back into the room. "Oh and the rest of SG1, you're on leave for48 hours. Get off the base. Have some fun. Just do something to relax…that's an order. We'll call you if we find anything."

"I wish we were going with you Teal'c." Jack said. "And…"

"I shall keep my head down, O'Neill."

Jack smiled softly and left the room.

Jack raised his head at the sound of the klaxons indicating that the stargate was active. Glancing at his watch, he confirmed that it was Teal'c's scheduled departure time and based on the fact that Walter wasn't yelling anything into the speaker system, the Colonel knew that nothing was amiss.

Shortly after leaving the briefing, he had felt a need to be alone…somewhere where no one would think to find him.

Thirty minutes later, several wrong turns and one attempt at asking for directions (a sure sign that he was becoming a woman!), Jack O'Neill located his office. Entering it, he saw several stacks of files and reports placed carefully on his desk. Walter, no doubt.

Sighing, Jack decided to employ his filing system. He opened up a cabinet drawer, grabbed the stacks and dumped them into the cabinet. Closing it with a satisfied smile, he sat down in the chair and closed his eyes.

A woman in the military. What did that mean for him? What kind of future did that hold? He had heard that promotions were more difficult to come by. That patronizing would start and phrases like "don't worry your pretty little head" would be uttered.

He slammed a fist down on his desk in anger and winced at the pain.

See? That shouldn't have hurt.

He was Colonel Jack O'Neill! Commanding officer of team SG-1! Former Black Ops! Air Force! And his hand now hurt.

Bracing his head in his hands, his thumbs rubbed his temples. And Colonel Jack O'Neill, commanding officer of SG-1, former Black Ops and a member of the Air Force did something he never thought he would do…he started to cry. He couldn't help himself.

Sam stood outside the partially closed door. She could hear soft sobs coming from inside her C.O.'s office and angling herself, she could see his body shaking. She hated to see him like this. Hurting. Helpless.

Quietly, she entered his office and closed the door. She locked it, hoping that would provide the Colonel some privacy.

Jack looked up at the click. His eyes red, face wet, he glared at Sam for invading his moment of weakness. Without a saying a word, Sam led Jack to the small couch and placed him gently on it.

"Come here." She said, opening her arms as she sat beside him. Jack leaned into the embrace and started to cry.

"I…don't know…what's…wrong…with me." He hiccupped.

"Hormones." Sam said quietly.

"You're not…crying." He argued.

"Testosterone apparently provides some form of control over that." She reasoned. "I'd probably be crying if I was a woman."

"No you wouldn't…you're Carter." Jack protested. "You're strong and in control and calm."

"Not always, sir." Sam said softly. "There are times I just want to crawl within myself and scream and cry and hit out…"

"…but you don't. And look at me! I'm a wreck. I can't control these emotions!" Jack started to sob.

"You're not used to them, sir. Women experience emotions differently then men. Give it time. You'll get used to them."

"I don't want to have to get used to them Carter!" Jack exploded. His hands balled up on Carter's chest and he pounded them against the broad muscles. "I'm not supposed to be a woman! I'm not supposed to cry or have menopause or enjoy being pinned against a wall!"

"You enjoyed that, sir?" Sam asked softly, look at Jack tenderly.

"Forget I said that." Jack sniffled and waved a hand in the air, dismissing it. "I'm supposed to be in control and rational and mature."

"You, sir? Mature?" Disbelief tinged Sam's voice.

"Okay, forget I said that, too."

"Is there anything else you're supposed to be or do, sir?"

"Yes! I'm supposed to be the alpha leader. The initiator. To take what I want…not give what you want. I'm supposed to be the man here. I'm not supposed to be attracted to a man...even though I know it's you. I mean, I'm totally a guy's guy...really into women...and here I am crying and wanting to take..."

"Sir?" Carter's voice was confused.

"This! I want to take this!"

Jack leaned up a bit out of Carter's embrace and pulled her mouth down onto his. His tongue demanded entrance, a wish Sam was only too happy to grant. Her arms tightened around his slim waist and pulled him closer.

A/N : Virago, you have a point about Jack's orientation...however, it's Sam. Genders aside, the connection between is still there...at least in my little fanfic world.