To be perfectly honest, Jack was pissed off. His tiredness and the events of the day combined to cause his headache to flair once more. He took a swig from the bottle and shifted restlessly in his chair, still unable to properly relax.

He thought back once more to the events that had caused his current state of unease.

The day had started like any other, except that he had been determined to get some of the paperwork in his in-tray out of the way. And he freely acknowledged that that hadn't helped his mood. He sorted the documents into piles and began to deal with the more urgent ones. The rest could wait for another day. After an hour of wading through the endless reports and requests, Jack could feel his back tensing and his knees aching. He hated sitting still for any length of time. His body just wasn't designed to sit. Jack glanced at the clock and saw that he could probably justify a morning tea break without feeling too guilty.

Perhaps Carter would join him. Knowing her, she was in her lab working on some very important project and would need reminding to stop and eat.

He confidently strode into the lab, expecting to find the major hunched over some experiment. What he found was very different.

There were parts of a large motorcycle strewn all over the floor, oil and grease puddling around them. Carter was standing with her back to him, engrossed in what appeared to be some part of the brake mechanism.

"Major?" Jack called her attention to his presence.

"Oh, sorry Sir. I didn't hear you come in." Carter turned around to face him as she spoke.

It was then that Colonel O'Neill saw the T-shirt. The little skimpy T-shirt with a name emblazoned across the front.

His name.

O'Neill.

For just one brief second Jack held his breath and shut his eyes. Then he exploded.

"Just what in God's name do you think that you are playing at, Major?"

Sam starred at him in amazement. "Sir?"

"Don't you 'sir' me, Major Carter? You know exactly what I'm talking about. It's bad enough that you have a private vehicle in your lab and are working on it on the Air Force's time, but that I could have excused. I know that the General gave you permission to work on your bike here before, but that was a favor not a right and I'm sure as hell right in thinking that he wouldn't do it again. Not after the mess that had to be cleaned up last time."

"Sir… I"

"No, Major - let me finish. The bike is the least of your problems. What exactly were you thinking when you decided to wear that shirt? Tell me that. Or were you even thinking?"

Jack saw Carter's look of puzzlement and he waited for the widely admired brains to kick into gear. He could tell when they did.

Sam's face turned bright red and she quickly crossed her arms over her breasts.

"Sir. I don't know what to say. I got dressed quickly this morning and just wasn't thinking. I'll change immediately."

Jack fixed her with a scathing glare. "You just do that, Major. I would like to think that this wasn't deliberate. What did you suppose that people would say if they saw you with that on? Talk about rumors. I don't know about you, Major Carter, but I like my career and I don't want to have it jeopardised by your thoughtlessness."

Sam stood there miserably. She gulped and straightened. "I apologise, Colonel O'Neill. I wasn't thinking of the implications. I'll change and get this mess cleaned up immediately." She stood rigidly, waiting to be dismissed by the Colonel.

With a disappointed nod of his head, Jack gave her permission to begin the cleanup. He decided not to visit the mess hall, preferring the paperwork in his office to the chatter of the other personnel.

And that was where he had stayed all day, before finally going home around dinnertime. One good thing had come out of this debacle; he had gotten most of his paper work done.

Jack stood, nursing his beer. It would be a long time before he was calm enough to see any humor in this situation, if he ever did. All he felt now was disappointment.

Disappointment and a pounding headache.

TBC/END

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