"Unscheduled off-world activation!"
Hammond never did find out what Teal'c was after in the closet (though he suspected it had something to do with the way Teal'c scuttled quickly sideways along the corridor like an over-sized stallion-thighed crab) because Chief Master Sergeant Walter Harriman's sing-song voice rang out over the base's PA system.
"Damn, who can that be at this ungodly hour?" grumbled Hammond as he jogged to the nearest elevator - which he shouldn't have to do now, he reminded himself; jogging that is, because he was a general and he had lieutenants and captains and majors and even colonels to jog for him, didn't he? And when was someone going to invent a corset for generals to keep their bellies in place when some inconsiderate off-worlder activated the SGC's 'everyone must drop everything and jog to the 'gate-room' protocol? Because if they could devise jock-straps to help the young airmen hold body and soul together, why not something suitably crafted for the usually desk-bound Top Brass?
Half a minute and numerous belly-bounces later, Hammond huffed into the control room above the Stargate as Teal'c hobbled in behind him. Sam and Vala had made it there too - Vala had an unmistakeably smug expression while Sam looked rather flushed and the buttons on her shirt were fastened lop-sided. The recently arrived Jack O'Neill was standing there too, eyeing Sam suspiciously and shooting dagger-like green-tinged eyes at Vala whenever the woman slipped her hand towards the hidden vicinity of Sam's bottom. They all stood and watched as the closed iris on the 'gate started to glow, then pulsate, then finally melted into a gloopy puddle not unlike one of those squishy clocks in a Salvador Dali painting. The exposed wormhole shimmered silver-blue and translucent and opaque and flourescent and several other mutually exclusive watery-like adjectives... and Thor stepped through...
... wearing a suit of Asgard-Kevlar and carrying a big ray gun, two sets of handcuffs, leashes and ball-gags.
"I am here for O'Neill and Carter," the armed and dangerous rogue Asgard announced. "Bring them to me or you will all die."
Jack O'Neill gaped through the bullet-proof window of the control room at the diminutive but oddly threatening character on the ramp below. He was in a bit of a dilemma. On the one hand, just the sight of Thor's nickel, leather and latex armoury was making two crucial parts of Jack's anatomy cramp up in a futile effort to hide somewhere near his prostate gland. On the other hand, he thought it might just be worth enduring the indignity of wearing Thor's kit if it meant he'd finally get to see Carter similarly attired. Besides, he had to get Carter away from Vala somehow... soon, and urgently if the glazed expression on Carter's face whenever Vala whispered something next to her shell-like was anything to go by...
Jack made an executive decision. "We're no match for that Asgard ray-gun! Carter and I will have to submit to Thor's demands - for the sake of the SGC and all the personnel within."
Teal'c raised an eyebrow. Hammond raised two eyebrows. Walter raised two eyebrows and pushed his glasses up on to his forehead. Daniel wandered in, looked about curiously, took off his glasses, wiped them, looked out through the window, raised two eyebrows and dropped his jaw just to be on the safe side.
Sam choked and Vala looked rather disappointed.
Jack grabbed Sam's elbow and pulled her protesting out of Vala's possessive grip and hauled her down the steps into the 'gate-room, whereupon both Jack and Sam found themselves shoved, clipped and strapped efficiently into the adventurous new wardrobe which Thor had picked out for them, then pushed through the gate.
The gate-crew fell oddly silent as the wormhole disengaged. Daniel spoke up:
"So, did they pay Thor for an hour or what?"