Disclaimer – MGM/Gekko/Double Secret own the characters. Though they may not want to.
Oh yeah, it's a parody. For AJ and Michelle. Until recently ('Paradise Lost ') it was never specifically said if women had their own locker room, as mentioned in a lot of fic. In fact, in at least one episode ('Urgo') we see them all getting ready for a mission together. For all we know there could be a separate area, but...anyway, this is my explanation for the sudden women's locker room in PL.
Set sometime in season six before 'Paradise Lost'. General spoilers. Feedback would be loved, but not demanded.
*
It was by far the most interesting conversation Daniel had glowed down into (and that was including the time Jonas had grilled Teal'c about Jaffa reproductive practices).
"But sir, Carter *has* to have her own locker room!"
Hammond sat forward in his chair, placed comfortably behind the desk in his office. "I can't just requisition one, Colonel - as much as you'd like to believe it, SG-1 are not the only team operating out of this facility. Besides, why do you believe it's even necessary?"
Jack sighed. "*Because*...she keeps..." Definitely seeming embarrassed, he hesitated. Daniel hovered forward in interest for the rest of the sent-ah, here it came. "...peeking."
"I wasn't peeking."
Apparently, Sam disagreed.
"So what was with the binoculars, huh?"
"That was blatant observation, sir. I'm not saying I wasn't looking at you; I'm just clarifying that if I *had* actually been peeking, you probably wouldn't have noticed."
"Wait, wait a minute," Jack held up his right hand, almost waving it. "You're claiming it's okay because peeking is worse than outright staring? With binoculars?"
"Well what would make you feel worse? Being stared at or not *knowing* you were being stared at?"
"Can't follow your logic there, Carter. If I didn't know I was being stared at, why would it bother me?"
Sam nodded. "Exactly."
Jack frowned. "What?"
Daniel giggled, waving a glowy white tentacle around. Gee, he really had missed seeing those two kids in the same room together. Watching their unresolved sexual tension was always *so* much fun.
Hammond, evidently, didn't think the same. "Major...are you actually standing there *admitting* that you've been ogling your commanding officer?"
Confused, Sam faced him. "Given my situation sir, wouldn't you?"
Pondering over her statement, the General did, eventually, concede her point. "I suppose you're right, Major. I'm a firm heterosexual as you know, but Jack is man enough to give any woman a run for her money."
Daniel's waggling tentacles agreed. Lord knew if Sha're hadn't turned up when she had...
Jack kept frowning, but this time his left eye was twitching. "Thank you. Sir. However, I think we've gone slightly off track here...the point is...even though, apparently, I'm red hot stuff, I do like some privacy."
"Understandable," Hammond nodded. "Though I'm sure there's no reason for modesty."
"*None* at all," Sam confirmed, grinning.
Had they been able to hear him, Daniel would have agreed too. Thank God for those open plan showers.
Jack cleared his throat. "Right. Sure. So...?" For some reason that Daniel couldn't fathom, Jack had a 'Dear *God* answer my question so I can get out of here right *now*!' expression on his face (the #2 variation; #1 was slightly less manic).
Sighing, General Hammond pulled open a drawer in his desk and took out a large, over-stuffed folder. As he thudded it on top of the desk, the words 'Cutie Pie's Requests' were firmly emblazoned across it.
Jack's right eye began to twitch.
The General flicked open the folder. "Very well, Colonel. It'll mean sacrificing Siler's hot tub, but hell - he spends all his free time in the infirmary anyway."
"Thank you sir, really. *Thank you*. I owe you one...uh, I mean I, uh...thank you."
Hammond winked at him. "I'm sure you'll find some way to make it up to me. Now get that hot ass out of my office, Mister. You've got a planet to save!"
"Yes sir. Thank you sir." He was backing out already. "See you later, Carter."
She grinned, her face almost taken over entirely by teeth. "No you won't, sir."
Jack froze. Then bolted.
Baffled, Daniel rubbed a tentacle-like hand over his tentacle-like spectacles (Oma, apparently, had a sense of humour). "That was weird."
"Daniel," Sam sighed. "You're floating in the trash can in General Hammond's office. Define weird."
"Oh thank God," Hammond muttered. "I thought my half-eaten peanut butter sandwich from last week had gone radioactive."
They could see him? Maybe he...wait a minute... "Peanut butter sandwich? Eww, that's *never* gonna come off."
~FINIS