Ambition

By BadgerGater

Email: [email protected]

Episode: None

Season: Somewhere after mid-S6

Spoilers: None

Category: Humor

Pairing: None

Summary: Jack gets a surprise, and he won't be the only one

Rating: PG

Warnings: Naked Jack. Have drooling towel handy.

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of SciFi, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions; all the powers that be, not me; This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement intended. The story is the property of the author and may not be posted elsewhere without the author's consent.

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I’d been awake, as usual, ten minutes before the alarm went off.

Monday morning.

Another week at the SGC.

The usual round of start-of-the-week meetings. Reading and filling out paperwork.

Boring stuff.

Worst of all, today, was a VIP tour day.

I seriously contemplated calling in sick, the thought of escorting sycophants with phony smiles and even phonier personalities really did turn my stomach.

But Hammond would kill me. Or demote me.

The General had ordered Class A’s. Spit and polish. Put on the dog for these people because they control the purse strings of the SGC.

And much as I hated it, and them, I knew how important it was.

Still boring, though.

But if I could just survive today, well, tomorrow, tomorrow there was the prospect of excitement. Challenge. Opportunity. Ass kicking, adrenaline pumping, off-world travel.

God, I love my job.

I really do.

Can’t imagine doing anything else.

Can’t imagine retirement, either.

Nine minutes and 30 seconds before the alarm went off, I was up and out of bed, heading for the bathroom, the stiffness in my creaky morning knees working its way out of my joints by the time I reached the doorway.

Morning routine.

Entering the bathroom, I reached in and flipped on the shower, letting the water heat while I relieved myself. Shedding the t-shirt, sweatpants and boxers I’d slept in, I stepped into the now steaming shower. It took only a moment to lather and rinse my short hair, just a few minutes more to soap myself, washing all over and rinsing quickly.

Stepping out of the shower, I grabbed the towel off the rack, wrapping it around my waist. My form was reflected in the glass of the shower stall door. Still pretty trim for a not-so-young-as-I-used-to-be guy, I thought to myself with a grin. I didn’t look like some young pup, the hair on my chest was as gray as that on my head, my body tattooed with a variety of old scars, the marks of three decades in a dangerous but always challenging profession.

I raised an arm, making a fist, displaying the muscles in my biceps. I’d never been one of those muscle-y guys like Teal’c, I’d always been the lean and gangly type, though my shoulders were broad and square. In better shape than 90% of the guys half my age… no brag, just fact. So, yeah, maybe I couldn’t outrun all those snarky young jarheads, but I could outsmart every bleepin’ one of them.

Anyday.

Twice over.

*************

The radio alarm had come on as I toweled myself dry, a disembodied voice giving the morning local weather report.

Cloudy, cold, chance of snow tomorrow.

Didn’t worry me.

Tomorrow I’d be somewhere else, in a galaxy far, far away.

Running a hand across my chin, I prepared to shave the weekend stubble, lathering my face quickly and methodically pulling the razor across my skin. Done with that chore, I dressed in tan pants and a pale yellow cotton shirt, sitting down on my bed to pull on socks and shoes. Picking up my watch from the bedside table, I headed out into the hallway, toward the kitchen and coffee. I’d have breakfast at the mountain, not that it’s exactly great food, but the alternative was to cook for myself, which was *definitely* not great food.

*********

I was halfway down the hall when it happened.

A familiar sudden shift, a moment of disorientation, and suddenly, I wasn’t looking at the Earth-tone walls and hardwood floors of my house.

In front of me was a plain gray bulkhead.

********

The first clue that everything wasn’t copacetic was the draft.

I felt chilly.

All over.

Like air was moving softly across my skin.

Across lots of skin.

Way too much skin.

Way, way, way too much skin.

Barefeet on cold metal flooring.

Bare arms.

Bare legs.

Bare chest.

Bare… Oh shit. Bare… naked.

“Thor!” There was anger in my shout as I spun halfway around to find the little alien guy was standing in front of me. I assumed it was Thor, since he’d hijacked me before. Except, not exactly like this of course. “Thor!”

“Yes, O’Neill?”

“Thoooorrrrrr!”

“It is I.” He sounded puzzled at the angry tone of my voice.

“Thor, buddy, you forgot something!”

He nodded, in that slow way he has. “No, O’Neill, I did not.”

“Yes you did,” I insisted. “I *was* wearing clothes.”

“I am aware of that fact.”

“I *like* wearing clothes.”

“I have observed that propensity.”

“I *always* wear clothes.”

“And I do not.”

“Well, gee, surprise. I guess I never noticed,” I snapped sarcastically.

“The temperature on the ship has been set for comfort without the need for body coverings.”

I knelt, carefully, to get down to his level, to look him in the eye. “Okay, Thor, buddy, I know you don’t wear anything. And that’s fine with me. Whatever suits you, you know. But naked just pretty much doesn’t suit most humans. Especially me.”

“I have noticed that your species prefers to be clothed, regardless of the need for such.”

“Well, we don’t like to ah, hmm, let it all hang out, so to speak.”

He nodded, said nothing.

“I mean,” I waved a hand toward the little guy, er, actually, come to think of it, I didn’t know if he was a guy since he didn’t have any, ah, appendages. “It’s just that we humans like to keep certain, ah, vital parts covered. You know. Protected. Private. Parts, you, ah, don’t seem to have…” Oiy, this was one of the most embarrassing conversations I’d ever had.

“I do understand, O’Neill.”

“Then why am I standing here in my birthday suit?”

Thor’s puzzled look was back.

“Birthday suit? Unclothed? Au natural? Nude? Naked as a jaybird? In the altogether? Letting it all hang out? *Exposed*?”

“It was necessary, in this instance.”

“Necessary?” I was trying hard to keep my temper, and losing it.

“Yes, necessary for the negotiations.”

“Negotiations? *What* negotiations?” Sneaky little aliens, save their asses and all you get is a cold ass, and other things, as thanks.

“The inhabitants of the world Ngouth have requested that a Tau’ri serve as a neutral mediator in their dispute with us…”

Suddenly, I head a noise behind me.

I spun and came face to face, er, actually, they were about Thor’s height, so pretty much groin to face, with little short… people… creatures… sort of Asgaard-ish. Three, four, five, six of them.

Looking right at me.

Naked me.

Oiy.

My hands flew immediately to cover you know where.

I have never before been quite so grateful for having large hands.

One of the aliens giggled.

I think it was a giggle.

Then whispers, in a language I didn’t understand.

“Thor?!?”

“Ambassador Trouff says you do not need to cover yourself.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, thank you.”

“It is an insult in their society to go about with the body covered.”

“Well, it’s an insult in *my* society to go about with the body *un*-covered.”

“I shall endeavor to explain.” The little Truffle guy was talking again, and Thor answered. My head swiveled back and forth, one to the other as the conversation bounced from alien to alien.

Finally, Thor nodded. “He understands. I have explained that your species has a clothing fetish…”

“Fetish?”

“…and prefers to remain clothed. He has stated that he will abide by your wishes during the meetings, except during the negotiations themselves. Then all parties must bare themselves. It is a required display of openness and trust, that one has nothing to hide.”

“Okaaay.” My brain was working furiously, latching onto the elusive thread of an idea. “Thor, buddy, actually, I’m having a brainstorm here. You know me, I’m not much of a negotiator. In fact, that’s not usually my job at all.”

“But you are the legendary O’Neill, known to many across the galaxy.”

“O’Neill the warrior, a fighter, not a talker. But I think I can find another Tau’ri who would be oh so *very much* better suited to help with the negotiations.” I’d started to spread my arms wide, talking with my hands as usual, when I remembered, and hastily returned them to a more vital location.

Thor spoke to the other aliens once more as I stood, trying not to fidget. Or shiver.

Finally, he nodded. “Trouff has agreed. You may send another as a substitute.”

“He’ll have to do the naked thing, right?” I asked, just to clarify.

Thor nodded. “Yes.”

“Okay, then, send me back…”

Thor began to raise his hand…

An awful thought crossed my brain. “Wait! Where are you sending me?”

“To Earth.”

“Where on Earth?”

“I assume you will need to present this plan to General Hammond?”

“Not like this!”

“Ah, yes, the clothing fetish.” Thor raised his hand, and instead of me disappearing, a pile of clothing, the clothing I’d had on earlier this morning, appeared in a puddle at my feet.

“Thank you,” I muttered sarcastically, reaching quickly for my boxers. Clothes on, I nodded at the Asgaard. “Okay, beam me down, Scotty.”

Thor shot me another quizzical look, then the light beam activated…

….and I found myself standing in General Hammond’s office.

Right next to three Senators, two Representatives, and one member of the President’s Cabinet.

Hammond was frowning at me.

“Sorry about the civilian clothes, Sir. Sirs.” I let my gaze travel quickly over the visitors. “Thor grabbed me before I had the opportunity to change.”

“Thor of the Asgaard?” A familiar voice whined from the back of the pack.

“Yes, Sir,” I was still addressing Hammond, although carefully watching the others out of the corner of my eye. “He needs someone to handle a *very* high level intergalactic negotiation. So I told him I would of course be happy to oblige…”

A tall figure pushed its way out of the gaggle of VIPs, the grating voice unmistakable. “Colonel O’Neill, who appointed *you* as a negotiator for Earth?” he demanded, glaring at me.

“Ah, actually, no one, Senator…” I replied, fighting to keep the smirk off my face. It never pays to annoy a Senator unnecessarily. “I’m a soldier, not an ambassador.”

“I’m glad you realize that fact, Colonel,” the lip curled as he sneered, his contempt directed at me. For some reason, I really think this guy doesn’t like me. “Then I believe someone else, someone more experienced, should represent Earth’s interest.”

“Someone like you, Senator?” I tried to keep my voice humble.

“Why, yes, Colonel, I think that I would be an excellent choice.”

“I’m sure you would, Senator. But Thor needs someone right now.”

“I’m ready to go.” The Senator was standing straight and tall, looking very Senator-ish, maybe even a tad Presidential.

Still battling back the smile, I waved a hand in his direction. “Then, Senator, just stand right over there and Thor will transport you…”

A bright beam of light illuminated Hammond’s office. The rest of the VIPs jumped back as the light bathed their counterpart, who vanished.

I let the smile escape onto my lips, but kept the chuckle buried inside. Didn’t want to go too far.

“Colonel?” there was a you-better-enlighten-me-right-now tone to the General’s voice.

“Sir?”

“What just happened?”

“Well, I think the Senator just got his wish to represent Earth at a *very* important negotiation.”

“Then what’s that all about?” Hammond pointed across the room to what Thor had left behind.

“I do believe that’s Senator Kinsey’s suit, Sir. Looks like an Armani, tailor-made. And I'd guess those are Fruit of the Loom boxers. And those Brutus Magnum shoes, like OJ wore.” I replied carefully.

Hammond was still staring at me.

I put on my best blameless innocent Colonel look. “He said he wanted to go, General. He does like to get involved in the SGC’s business.” I smirked. “And really, Sir, don’t they call it *naked* ambition?”

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The End

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