Disclaimer – I do not own SG-A and any and all characters etc. associated with it. Don't presume to sue, and I won't presume to tell you how to think. The ideas are mine. Don't touch, and I won't swear to kill you.

There's something to be said for fancy dress.

For getting dressed up in cloths that are smooth and soft against the skin, flowing over every curve like a smooth fall of water. Like standing out in the rain during a summer storm, when the drops are warm against the skin like the smile you have almost forgotten.

There is a sharp rush of satisfaction in choosing cloths. Like a warrior dressing for battle – because this is a battle, a battle of razor words and twisting lips, of gold gilt and the politics you never really have had the patience for.

But you have never backed down from a challenge. And you don't intend to start now.

So you select each necklace and earring with painstaking care, sliding them into place with meticulous fingers. The makeup you don – just a hint, enough to enhance but not exaggerate – slots into place with ease. War paint you think with dark humor. Another facet to add to the mask.

But still, you can't resist a girlish twirl before the mirror before you leave the room.