TITLE: March
AUTHOR: SelDear
SUMMARY: Jack doesn't like being photographed
AUTHOR'S NOTES: In case you haven't guessed, this 'calendar shot' was based on the sepia photo of RDA glaring at the camera - yes, the one that the gals all drool over.

And I just looked through the file, and I only finished 'February' and 'March'. So this is as much as you're gonna get!

March

One of the reasons (and the one that Jack touted to those who noted the calendar being stuck on February) that Jack didn't flip over the March was because the March 'pin-up' was him.

He hadn't been happy about the situation at all. He was way too old for this kind of thing - and who'd want to look at him anyway?

When he'd posed that question to his team, Jonas brightened. "Actually, Colonel, the nurses in the..."

Carter coughed lightly in interruption, trying to hold back a smile. "Sir, if the rest of us have to undergo this kind of...activity," and Jack would have sworn she'd been about to say 'torture', "Then as the leader of our team, you should be part of this."

"O'Neill," Teal'c told him, "If you will not have your photograph taken for this calendar, then Major Carter, Jonas, and myself will not." Which let Jack know that he could either face down a very irate commanding officer as four of the intended 'victims' of this new means of torture absconded from the deal, or he could swallow his complete lack of fondness for photographs and bite the bullet.

He bit the bullet.

The photoshoot was anything but fun. Jack was irate and grumpy, his team-mates were amused - which only added to his grumpiness - and the photographer grew increasingly short tempered as Jack hemmed and hawed and refused to smile.

Finally, the photographer snapped at Carter. "Is he always this bad?"

Carter gave that little smile of hers that indicated that she was fighting outright laughter. "He's usually worse."

"God help us all," muttered the photographer as he changed rolls of film.

Carter - still dressed in her peppy t-shirt from her shoot, although without the heavy makeup - stuck her hands on her hips as she regarded her commanding officer. "Why don't we take the Colonel outside?"

"Outside?"

"Yeah." She glanced at the photographer, "The Colonel has a fondness for the outdoors, so maybe a more...natural setting will work?"

Jack had fixed her with a glare. "Carter?"

"I was thinking of that corner where the SF's take their cigarette breaks, sir. The one facing out over the national park?"

"And that will make me more photogenic?"

One corner of her mouth quirked. "Possibly. It might help you relax a bit."

"Carter, the only thing that would help me relax would be to know that this whole rigamarole is over!"

"Yes, sir." The way she said it was almost insubordination. If he'd had any jurisdiction over her in this situation. Which he didn't.

As it turned out, Jack did feel a lot better up staring out over the national park. He leaned back against the wall, letting his shoulders slump a little and his hands dangle loosely as his arms rested over his thighs.

The shutter clicked and he glanced at the camera. It clicked again.

"Finally," the photographer said with the air of a martyr.

"That's it?" After nearly half an hour of this pose and that pose, lift your arm this way, turn your head that way, put more makeup on - makeup, for crying out loud! - Jack was surprised that it had come down to a moment of relaxation and two photos.

"Didn't you want this to be over, mister?" The photographer was evidently willing to wash his hands of Jack O'Neill.

"Well, yeah, but..."

"It's over. Now do either of you guys want to be photographed out here? Might as well get it done now..."

"I'm happy to be inside," Jonas said with an air of general affability.

"I also, Jonas Quinn."

So they went back inside.

And Carter had this shit-eating grin on her face all the way back into the mountain.

*
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