Disclaimer: BtVS characters belong to Whedon, et al, and SG-1 characters belong to MGM, et al.
A/N: OK…this one is written in a TOTALLY different style than I usually do. It's not detailed, and kind of resembles a persons thought processes when they're drunk. LOL OK, maybe not that bad…more like a list or '101 Reasons why I '. Regardless, I hope you enjoy still enjoy it.
It's also kind of a sequel for the 'Buffy/mini-Jack' story I did…but only a vague mention. It's not necessary to have read it in order to understand what's going on, except maybe for a couple of lines near the end.
Summary: FFA #301 Buffy/Jack O'Neill. The title says it all!
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A Day In The Life Of Crazy
General Jonathon 'Jack' O'Neill was being driven crazy.
Slowly.
With surgical precision.
It was worse than the time loop.
Worse than the download of the Ancient's library of information.
Twice.
Oh, Hell…it was even worse than Ba'al's torture!
Craziness had a face.
And a name.
And an attitude.
And a hell of a lot more curves than it should.
Craziness had taken shape in the form of a woman.
Yes, a woman!
One Buffy Summers.
Jack didn't know whether she was trying to make him strangle her, or whisk her off to the nearest bedroom.
At this point, either would be pleasurable.
A man can only take so much.
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First, she decimated one of the SG teams for picking on her…on her first day – they were lucky to escape with only bumps and bruises.
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Next she refused to wear standard issue BDUs, claiming that they made her hips look too big.
….after Jack insisted, she said she would get her own specially made.
…she failed to warn him they would be made in the latest fashionable cut…low-rise pants and belly shirts (which were interchanged with stringy halter-tops, and tight tanks that dipped in really low v-necks).
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Next, she refused to wear standard issue BDUs…again…(when Jack argued about her current sets) claiming that her attire was adequate…
…in the hearing distance of every friggin soldier in the mess hall…
…who supported her choice.
…vehemently.
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Next, having refused to wear 'those ugly clunky things you claim to be boots, but really state that a woman is having gender issues', she had special boots made …
…with three inch heels…
…which she claimed were good for taking someone's eye out…
…and offered to demonstrate when Jack protested at her wearing them.
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Next, she cheerfully offered to pose in her personalized BDUs for one of the base soldiers to take snapshots of.
…which became a popular 'pin-up' for every male soldier on the base…
…and a few women…
…then spread to other bases…
…as far as Iraq.
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Next, she and the soldier/photographer began charging for other poses…
…and became somewhat wealthy…
…and were given medals for keeping up morale.
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The list goes on and on…never stopping for a breath, and encompassing everything from her wardrobe to her weapons (it didn't help that she proved her 'knives are an excellent back-up weapon' insistence when she took out a System Lord by throwing a knife so fast, he hadn't been able to get his force field up in time).
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And it didn't help that Carter, Daniel and Teal'c immediately 'clicked' with her, and refused to get involved in their little 'power struggle'…
…and actually took enjoyment from it…
…and teased him mercilessly.
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He ordered Carter to back him up when he wanted to threaten Buffy Summers with 'disturbing the daily operations of a military facility'…
…Carter flatly refused…
…and threatened to file a complaint that he was using his position to 'unduly influence a junior officer'…
…then casually mentioned that, if he continued to insist, she would arrange a meeting with all the female officers to have an unofficial 'Military Fashion Tips For Women' session, instructed by Buffy…
…he backed off.
…she had the meeting anyway…
…to which several men went, also…
…when Jack found out, Carter told him it was a Tupperware party to celebrate the winter holidays...
…but Jack knew differently when even the men began to request froo-froo hair products.
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And if that wasn't enough, Summers had the audacity to confuse him (granted, that wasn't hard to do).
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She began to sit oh-so-delicately on top of his desk, instead of using the chair.
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Bending over when wearing a v-neck top, stretching in her belly-shirts, or playing with the strings of her halter top.
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Hooking her thumbs into the belt loops of her low-rise slacks, drawing them down further to expose her flat tummy and the hint of pelvic bones.
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Sitting close to him on team-nights, and laying her head on his shoulder.
Then…
Then…
…saying he was such a great friend…
…that he would make a great father…
…better than her own.
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GAH!!!!!
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All of this whirled around in his head as he sat in the mess hall, stabbing at his lunch, surrounded by the other soldiers who didn't dare speak to him with the mood he was in…not even in greeting.
And SG-1 sat next to, and across from, him…not speaking a word…watching in amusement as he stabbed at his food again, and again, and again…while muttering 'that woman!' under his breath.
Then she showed up.
One Buffy Summers.
And everyone dropped their voices to whispers.
Wondering if this would be the day the General lost it.
She smirked at the bent head of the SGC commander, watching his sharp, angry movements for a brief moment before walking to the food line, and began to calmly fill her tray.
Tray filled, she walked towards the table where her team sat, faint smiles of amusement gracing their lips…yes, even Teal'c's.
Buffy smiled in greeting, and set her tray down on the table directly across from the food-stabbing General.
She stretched.
Then oh-so-innocently dropped (read tossed) her napkin on the ground a few feet from the table.
Nobody breathed.
Nobody moved.
And Buffy took a step…
…and bent.
No squatting.
Bent.
The General lifted his head at the dead silence, almost dreading what he would see.
And was graced with the vision of Buffy.
Bent over.
Her backside only a couple of feet away from his face.
The low-rise pants driven down even further by her position.
Almost revealing the crevice between her buttocks, which was barely covered by a hairs-breadth of fabric.
Said fabric spreading across the cheeks of her behind in a smooth, unbroken layer.
Telling him that she had been walking around the base commando.
He slammed his utensils down, hard, causing the small blonde Slayer to straighten and turn to look at him, napkin held loosely in her hand.
"Problem, Jack?" she purred.
Jack abruptly stood.
Then glared at her.
She smiled sweetly at him.
He grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder.
And stomped out of the Mess Hall.
Leaving behind a silent crowd.
Who didn't stay silent long when Ferreti called out the winner.
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Hours later, a tousled Buffy smirked up at him from where she lay sprawled on his chest.
"What took you so long?"
He glared at her before saying, "Confusing signals."
She laughed, and he might just have strangled her at that point if it wasn't for what she said next.
"If you think my signals were bad, just think of what Jake's going through, surrounded by 248 hormonal teenage Slayers, most of which are under the age of fourteen."
That made him feel better.
Enough to make him want to kiss her.
So he did.
And made a mental note to call his younger clone and mock him.
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When they finally emerged, hours later, it was to an empty hallway and a note taped on his door, written in Daniel's hand.
It said…
'It's about time!'
Jack laughed.
Because Buffy Summers had only been with them for five weeks.
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Eh? Where the hell did this one come from?! LOL
I know it wasn't written in my usual style, but I hope it was still enjoyable.
Please review!!