Five Times Sam Didn’t Wear Her Uniform

A/N1: This is the result of a prompt given to me by geekgrrllurking.
A/N2: Special thanks to yellowsmurf6 and k_icker for the beta.


It was her day off. Janet had to work and Cassie had school. So she’d decided to go for a ride on her Indian. However, the phone clipped to her waist began to vibrate. She pulled over and stopped the bike to answer it.


“I need to you to report to the base – immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

She hung up and put her helmet back on. She was closer to the base than home, so she headed di-rectly there. Besides, General Hammond had said ‘immediately,’ not ‘after you go home and change clothes.’

With her helmet tucked under her arms, she made her way down to Level 27 where the general’s office was located. Walter indicated for her to go into the conference room where she found the rest of SG-1, SG-3, and SG-5 waiting. Not a single man in the room failed to take in her skin-tight leathers and how they complimented the long, lean figure of the blonde major.

Janet was to the side. She smiled as Sam’s blue eyes met hers. Let them look, she thought. That beautiful woman belongs to me.


General Hammond was waiting in the gate room for SG-1 when they returned from P2M-259. Ac-cording to their progress reports, everything had gone well with the natives, and the negotiations for some of their naquadah. Nothing unusual had been reported.

So he was more than a little surprised when they stepped through the gate. He was almost speech-less.


Major Samantha Carter glared first at Daniel Jackson, and then at Colonel O’Neill. The men were doing a poor job of stifling their grins and were on the verge of laughter.

“I’ll be in the shower.” She belatedly added, “Sir.”

He simply watched the green-skinned, blue-haired, toga-wearing woman march out of the room with as much dignity as she could muster.

Hammond looked at O’Neill. “Care to explain?”

“You had to be there, sir.”

O’Neill and Jackson burst out laughing. Even Teal’c was sporting an amused smile.


It was their screams that woke her up. Despite only three of hours of sleep, she was instantly wide awake and on full alert. She was already halfway down the stairs when she heard them again. She took the rest of the steps in one leap and ran out the back door to find them… in a tickle fight.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” squealed Cassie as Janet pinned her to the ground.

“Do you give?”

“Yes! Yes! I give up!”

Janet let the girl up. Leaning back on her knees, she looked towards the back porch. A slow smile spread across the doctor’s face as she took in the blonde’s appearance. Starting at her bare feet; up her long, lean legs; her black, silk boxers; her bare, flat stomach; her half-length tank top; sleepy, blue eyes and disheveled hair. Janet stood, walked across the yard and up the porch steps.

“Hey, Sam.” Janet slipped her arms around the blonde’s bare midriff. “I thought you were sleep-ing.”

“I was,” she replied, slipping her arms around Janet. “I heard you scream… thought something was wrong.”

“Sorry we woke you up.”

Sam kissed the doctor. “I’m not.”


Her left shoulder, which she had dislocated on her last mission, was better. All she had to do now was pass the physical to prove she was ready to go back into the field.

Having finished her sit-ups, she took a mandatory break to rehydrate herself. She looked over to the side where Janet was making a notation on her clip board.

Janet checked her stopwatch. “Okay, Sam, last rotation – pull-ups.” She reset the stopwatch as the blonde major moved to the overhead bar. “When you’re ready, Sam. I’ll start the time as you start your first pull-up.”

Sam jumped up and grasped the bar, settling into a comfortable grip. She was pleased that she felt no pain or twinge in her shoulder.

Janet knew Sam was fit for field duty… their activities of the night before proved it. But what they did in the privacy of their bedroom was not an official fitness test. She watched as the blonde re-peatedly pulled herself up on the bar, suddenly finding her mouth dry at the sight of six-pack abs and flexing arm muscles. She always did find it hard to concentrate when Sam worked out in her shorts and sports bra.

Finally she managed to tear her eyes away and check the stopwatch. “Okay, that’s it, Sam.”

The blonde dropped to mat and picked up a towel. “Did I pass?” she asked as she wiped the sweat from her face and chest.

“With flying colors,” Janet replied with a smile.


Janet had had a bad day. It started when she’d been called into the base earlier because SG-12 ran into a Jaffa patrol. She’d spent three hours in surgery making sure Lt Brennan would live.

Then there was the unknown toxin Sgt. Walker discovered on P5X-347 when he was bitten by a purple ‘hamster.’ That had required four hours of painstaking lab work to find an antidote. Four hours to find out two aspirin would literally save the sergeant’s life. The purple hamster may have been cute, but the doctor gave the sergeant, and his team, a remedial lecture about the dangers of alien life forms.

And that brought her to lunch. Settling down with her tray of food, she let out a silent sigh. She no sooner took a bite of her food when Sgt. Siler, while changing a light bulb in the mess hall, fell off his ladder. That incident required five stitches and a plaster cast. She was going to need a whole new drawer just for Siler’s expanding medical file.

Janet was then confronted with a grumpy, and uncooperative, injured colonel. O’Neill had been boxing with Teal’c. Unfortunately, he bobbed when he should have weaved, and got caught with a jab. He was knocked out and had a bloody, broken nose. Treating O’Neill was like treating a bellig-erent 2-year-old. And even more draining on her patience and energy. Having sent O’Neill on his way, Janet went to her office to try to get some paperwork done. Five minutes later, the PA sounded.

“Medical team to the gate room. Medical team to the gate room.”

With a nurse and two medics on her heels, she rushed down to the gate room. She was glad to see no serious injuries, but was presented with a family of four – refugees saved by SG-3. And that meant four thorough, time-consuming physicals.

It was 8:00 at night before Janet finally signed out, got in her car and headed home. She had been going for over sixteen grueling hours. She was tired, hungry, and not a little grumpy. And all she had to look forward to was an empty, lonely house. Cassie was staying the night at a friend’s, and Sam was off-world with SG-11, studying an alien power station.

At home, Janet dropped her bag and briefcase in the foyer. She removed her tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt as she headed up the steps. At the top of the stairs, she paused long enough to remove the heels.

When she opened the door to her bedroom, she stopped and stood stock-still. There, stretched out on her bed, was a long, lean, blonde major sipping from a glass of wine… wearing nothing but a smile.

“Welcome home, Janet. How was your day?”

Eyes traveling from toes to eyes, she took a steadying breath, and smiled. “Today… is a good day.”