Man, I Feel Like a Woman

There were many things Cameron Mitchell never saw coming. The existence of aliens, Jaffa ambushes, the fact that the Asgard went around stark naked... At least they were all par for the course. Jackson whistling at his towel-clad ass trumped them all.

"Is there something I should know?" he demanded, doing his best to look calm.

The archaeologist looked a little out of it, his glasses nowhere to be seen. He shrugged, a strange grin on his face. "Colonel Mitchell, good to see you again," he said, but the voice was all wrong, flavored with an oddly familiar accent. "It's been a while."

Mitchell's eyes narrowed. "You're not Jackson."

Not-Jackson giggled. "Nope."

By now, a few of the other soldiers were giving them odd looks. Mitchell grabbed another towel and wiped the shaving cream off his face. He could live with a little bit of stubble. "You, stay right there," he ordered, pointing to a bench. "I'm gonna go put some clothes on and you'd better not have moved an inch by the time I get back."

Not-Jackson obediently plopped his butt down on the bench. "Make it quick, darling."

Who the hell is this guy? Mitchell wondered, yanking on his uniform as fast as he could. And how did he get into Jackson's body? He can't be a Goa'uld, he doesn't act like one. What's with the accent, anyway?

Not-Jackson was sitting right where Mitchell left him, inspecting his fingernails. "Oh good," he said, looking up, "you're back. Now we've got to get the rest of the team, and General Landry."

Mitchell grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out into the corridor. "All right, who are you?" he hissed under his breath as they boarded the elevator. "What do you want?"

Not-Jackson put his free hand over his chest, looking wounded. "Why, Colonel! I'm hurt that you don't remember me." A startled look crossed his face and he looked down. "Oh wow. My Daniel sure has nice muscles."

My Daniel... "Vala?!" Mitchell exclaimed in disbelief.

Not-Jackson laughed. "Of course it's me, silly," he � or rather, she � chided him. "Does anyone else regularly appreciate your... assets?"

He decided to ignore that question. "How'd you get in Jackson's body?"

"Sam can tell you," she said dismissively, practically skipping out into the corridor as the elevator doors opened. He had to hurry to keep up with her.

Sam was seated at one of the commissary tables, digging into a Jello cup, when they entered. Vala put her hands on her hips and looked at Sam confidently, but got nothing more than an odd look from the woman.

"How is this possible?" Mitchell demanded, pointing at the lazily swaying possessed man beside him.

He was about to explain when Sam dropped her spoon. "Oh my God," she exclaimed, face lit up with excitement. "It worked!"

She rushed off towards her lab, forcing them to run after her. "It takes me forever to figure it out, and Sam gets it at one look," Mitchell muttered to himself. "Figures."