Title- Please, Not Another Holiday
Author- Cait
Category- D/J Romance, Challenge response, pathetic attempt at humor
Rating- PG-13 for a bit of suggestiveness
Spoilers- Holiday, Legacy. Bits of technological stuff in reference to Crystal Skull and Learning Curve, and anything involving the fact that Cassie, Jacob, and the Asgaard exist in the Stargate Universe.
Season- Late three, early four... the timeline's pretty nonspecific, actually. And probably pretty muddled.
Summary- Sam tries hard to avoid downtime- while in Janet's body.
Disclaimer- They're so not mine. The body-swapping machine isn't mine. Heck, even the plot isn't really mine. I just arranged the letters into words into paragraphs into a story.
Archive- Yes, please?

A/N- My muse wanted to play tonight but didn't really have any ideas. So I ventured to the Challenge Archive and she grabbed onto this one like a little girl grabbing onto a fluffy little kitten.
It's shamelessly un-beta'd, and written between the hours of midnight and 4AM, so it's probably atrocious but I had a good time writing it at least. So feedback is great and all but I'm not expecting anything too flattering.
This is in response to Challenge #10 by Gem.
Challenge- Sam and Janet switch bodies and don't tell anyone.
Daniel does something to Sam in Janet's body, i.e. confesses his love or throws her against a wall or something.
And she wanted it funny, but I don't know how well that went.

This is for Gem, obviously, since she wanted the story in the first place, and to Aftyn for not-quite-but-almost answering a few little questions of details.


Please, Not Another Holiday

"It's *got* to be here somewhere," Sam grumbled, shoving aside the latest crate she'd unsuccessfully searched, eyeing the growing pile of similar crates distastefully, then crawling over to the nearest unexplored container.

"Why are we looking for it, anyways?" Janet asked as she stood on her tiptoes on the top of a step-stool, examining the highest shelf she could reach (which was, in fact, the third from the top). "And why are you and your long legs waaaaay down there on the floor, while I'm up here struggling to search a shelf that you could probably reach from solid ground?"

She had a point, Sam realized, looking dumbly at the small doctor. She did nothing, however, figuring she'd make easy work of these last two crates before assisting her friend, if she hadn't yet found what she was looking for. And she'd better, soon, she thought; this room had been searched almost completely and there were only a few more places to look for Machello's little hand-held computer.

"We're looking for it because it contains detailed descriptions of everything else in here, directions on how to use Machello's inventions, plans on how to reconstruct different devices, and Daniel even believes the 'language' isn't so much a language as it is a complex code, and that it probably has a translator program on it as well," she explained. "I'd been wanting to get my hands on it since we first discovered Machello's lab, and I've finally gotten permission since the Pentagon's realized that there are more useful devices than just the body-swapping machine."

And, truth be told, she really needed something to take apart, analyze, put back together, and generally play with until the next mission. Hammond had decided that the recent bad-luck streak SG-1 had been having was the result of stress and exhaustion and was going to order some serious downtime if the team, as a whole, didn't stay out of trouble for the next month. No alien possession, no speaking in tongues, not so much as a sniffle, or they could kiss their mission list good-bye for awhile.

So while Sam really, really wanted to study the anomalies with the neutrinos on P7X-377, she figured radiation poisoning would equal trouble. Her next thought had been to modify her design for the naquada reactor, but then she decided that that could go wrong in *oh* so many ways.

So, she'd muddle in Machello's affairs for awhile. Just with the computer; not with any slug-secreting devices.

Upon discovering that the last two crates were decidedly empty, she got up and ventured to the shelves, where Janet was holding on as if for dear life after using one of the lower shelves as an addendum to the stool.

"It's about time," Janet scolded once she'd reached terra firma with Sam's assistance.

"There's nothing on the top two shelves," Sam called from her perch on the stool. "And the one you were searching seems to have... dead potted plants."

"I always thought Area 51 would be a little more organized," Janet mused, glancing around the room. "Hey Sam, there're a few things over here."

Sam climbed down and followed Janet's gaze to the table that had been nearly obscured by a large object covered with a tarp. She approached it to take a closer look.

"That's it!" she exclaimed, finally seeing her conquest sitting on the far corner of the table. "Janet, I'll need your help moving this out of the way."

"Finally," Janet muttered, walking to the opposite side of the obstruction from Sam.

"On three," Sam suggested, and as she counted, the women were too relieved to have reached the end of their search to consider what could possibly be under the tarp, until...

"Ow!" Sam shouted, jumping back as an electric current tingled around in her arms. Must've been nasty, she thought, realizing her disorientation as the table came into view on the wrong side of her. "Janet? You ok?" She looked across, and looked back.

Because there in front of her was Major Samantha Carter, PhD, USAF. Five-nine, blonde hair, blue eyes.

"Uh, Sam?" her voice said to her. "You're... um, in my body."

Oh, no, she thought, looking at her hands and seeing perfectly manicured burgundy nails on considerably short little fingers. Nope, definitely not *her* hands.

This counted as trouble, didn't it? Oy, the guys were going to kill her.


On the way back to base, they'd decided they wouldn't tell. No sir (ma'am), not a soul.

Sam would have a whole lot of time to mull over her lack of a social life, a lack which would be made all the more bitter as her team would certainly shun her for the duration of the downtime, since it would be all her fault.

Janet decided it was entirely too embarassing to admit to everyone that she'd been too stupid to make the connection between room-full-of-Machello-stuff and large-and-mysterious-covered-object, a connection that really, really should have been obvious to them both.

So, it was a secret. They'd brought the machine back for "study." They'd yet to work out a cover story, though they had managed to agree that "It's classified" wouldn't go over too well. Not in a base where everyone had the highest clearance one could get.

Sam was particularly relieved that it had been Janet who'd accompanied her. She didn't know how she'd possibly deal if it had been the colonel or Daniel or (oh, god) Teal'c. The thought of having Junior as a constant companion made her queasy. The thought of having other... juniors... wasn't much more comfortable.

They'd stayed mostly silent during the return trip after they'd agreed on the top-top-secret nature of their current predicament. Janet had sat in Sam's body, marvelling at the length of her arms, sitting straight and proud of her newfound height, and twirling a piece of short blonde hair around her finger. Sam had sat in Janet's body, admiring the flawless nailpolish on her hands and constantly reminding herself that her habit of nail-biting would best be broken for the time being.

Throughout the journey through security, they'd had to keep nudging each other. Janet had had to sharply elbow her own (Sam's?) shoulder a couple times- everytime an airman said "Hello, Doctor" to Sam she'd nearly ripped him apart with her "rank, not salutation" lecture. Sam, aching from the painful blow to the shoulder, decided on a softer approach, not wanting to batter her own body, and gently brushed her hand on her (Janet's?) arm whenever her friend looked pointedly down at the shorter SFs they'd passed.

It wasn't until they'd boarded the elevator, however, that they realized they hadn't much thought this through.

"So, um, how are we going to explain why Dr. Fraiser is reverse-engineering alien devices while Major Carter tends to the infirmary?"

Sam blinked. Oh, yeah.



The elevator doors opened on Level 19. The women stared stupidly into the corridor, stared stupidly at each other, and stared once again into the corridor.

"One of us should get out," Sam suggested.

"Yeah," Janet agreed as the doors grew impatient and closed them back in. The car continued its journey to Level 21.

The doors opened again.

"So, do I take my chances in the infirmary and hope against hope that no one gets hurt?"

"Maybe... we should talk over coffee," Janet replied, searching for the number 22, which was significantly lower than usual. "Commissary."


"Where *are* they?" Daniel griped for the third time that half-hour. He looked at his watch again. Two minutes later than last he'd looked.

"I believe that MajorCarter and DoctorFraiser should be en route from Region 51, DanielJackson," Teal'c replied once again between large bites of "chicken surprise."

"It's *Area*, Teal'c. *Area* 51. Not region, not zone, not location-- it's *Area*," Jack, once again, corrected. Daniel chuckled silently at the bemused expression on the jaffa's face; Jack was oblivious to the fact that Teal'c was winding him up deliberately.

"Aliens," the older man muttered as he shoveled another forkful of red jello into his mouth.

Daniel's eyes wandered unbidden once more to his watch. He wondered if it was still working.

"What's the rush anyways? We're not due off-world for another three days," Jack pointed out.

"I need to see Janet," Daniel replied, a little too hastily. "I... uh, need a refill on my allergy meds." Nice cover, Jackson. He gave himself a mental pat on the back.

"Well there she is," Jack announced. Daniel turned and stood up too quickly, causing his chair to go crashing to the ground.

"Sorry," he offered to the crowd, righting the downed chair before flusteredly greeting Sam and the doctor.

"Happy to see us?" Sam quipped in an oddly flirty tone.

"Yeah, I guess..." He shook his head quickly and turned to Janet. "I need a refill on my antihistimines, Doc. Can I drop by later?"

Janet looked up at Sam, an almost panicked look in her eyes. "How about I just send it to your office later on?" she offered. "No need for you to come clear to the infirmary for it."

"You'll... send it up?" he repeated. Was he hearing this correctly? Was she angry with him?

Was he missing out on alone-time with his favorite doctor?

"I, uh," Sam jumped in. "Uh... I asked for Janet's help with something I'm working on and it will probably take up most of the day." She eyed Janet as if seeking approval. "She won't even, you know, be in the infirmary. Not for awhile."

"Speaking of," Janet noted hurriedly. "Shouldn't we be working on that thing now?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

"Yeah," Janet echoed, for good measure.

"You girls play nice," Jack teased through a mouthful of jello.

"Yessir," Janet answered with a giggle.

"Of course, Colonel," Sam replied with a resolute nod before the pair high-tailed it, empty-handed, from the commissary.

Daniel stared at the door, confused, for a few moments after they'd gone. "Is it just me, or were they acting strange?"

"They're women, Daniel."

"I also observed several peculiar mannerisms, O'Neill."

Jack sighed. "Maybe you're right." He perked up suddenly. "Hey, maybe they caught some alien bug at Area 51!"

"You make it sound like that would be a good thing," Daniel observed.

"You heard Hammond- not so much as a sniffle." He grinned. "If Carter's acting a little wonky, there's hope for that down-time he promised."

"Threatened," Daniel corrected.

"To-may-to, to-mah-to," Jack replied, gathering his tray and wandering off.

"This is definitely bad," Janet groaned. "We need to fix this, quick, before the Stargate explodes or Siler electrocutes himself."

"Or both," Sam added, not-so-reassuringly. "Unfortunately, our vow of silence severely hinders our progress in finding a solution."

"Why's that?"

"Remember when this happened before?" Of course she did. "The device remembers the transferances it's made. We need another person in order to switch back."

"Oh yeah." Janet scrunched Sam's features into a rather unattractive scowl. Sam briefly wondered if that was a Janet Original or if she made the same face in her own body.

She made a mental note to practice scowling in the mirror once this was over with.

"Are there any teams due back today?" Janet asked.

"No, but you never--" As if on cue, the klaxons started blaring and Major Carter was being summoned to the control room.

"It's as if we're the butt of some massive cosmic joke," Sam mused before leaving her lab and gesturing for her body to follow.


"Lucky it was just my dad showing up for vacation," Sam thought aloud, relief evident on her (or Janet's) face.

"Yes, lucky for you," Janet growled. "Lucky for the fate of the world. But me? I had to stand there dodging personal questions and pretending I know what Mark's doing these days."

"Well, when you put it that way..."

"We need a third person," the doctor reminded. "We need a third person and we need them *now*."

"But who?" Sam asked. "The colonel is out of the question; he'd never let us live this down."

"What about Daniel?" Janet suggested. "He'd keep it quiet."

"I don't know. He seemed a little put off earlier for some reason. I'd hate to ask that of him."


Sam shuddered. "I will not, even for a nanosecond, have my conscious transplanted into a body I'd have to share with... Junior."

"I see your point," Janet agreed, genuinely squicked.

"The general isn't even a remote possibility; if he finds out, I'll be spending the next six weeks in my house with no one to talk to but my plants."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that." Janet thought a moment. "What about Cassie?"

Of course, Cassie! She had top clearance, she'd keep her mouth shut if Sam asked nicely enough (or if Janet ordered threateningly enough), and she'd probably find the whole thing fascinating to boot.

"Well, call her!" Sam urged.

"*You* call," Janet argued. "*You're* her mother."


Sam sighed with relief as she reached for the phone and started dialing. Her relief ended quickly, however, as Dr. Fraiser was summoned via the PA to the infirmary.

"Oh, crap."


"You have *got* to be kidding me." She stared disbelievingly at Daniel. "You need treatment for a *papercut*?"

"It's deep," he whined, showing her the nearly invisible pinkish line on his index finger.

She rolled her eyes. Oh well, she could handle this. A bandage, a little peroxide...

Where did Janet keep the bandages and peroxide?

"Why they let us take you off-world is a mystery to me," she sighed, hoping Hammond wouldn't cut their missions for a stupid paper cut.

"You know, come to think of it, I'm fine." Daniel jumped up and smiled reassuringly. "But since I'm here, how about we go into your office and you write me that prescription?"

"Oh boy," she breathed, wondering if she could forge Janet's signature. She had her father's and Colonel O'Neill's down to an art, but Janet's?

Here's hoping.

Closing the door to the office behind them, Sam briefly considered confessing. Yeah, he'd seemed put off earlier, but he appeared to be in perfectly good spirits now. She'd just...


He kissed her.

*Kissed* kissed. And she'd almost jumped up and down screaming "cooties!" Ugh, he was like her *brother*!

But he'd kissed Janet. And that peaked her curiosity.

Enlist Daniel's help, or find out about this torrid affair her best friend was having with her teammate?


"So, um, sorry about earlier," she started, then paused, really hoping he'd just jump right in.

"No, I'm sorry. I was a bit obvious, huh?" He shrugged and smiled apologetically. "I worked out later that you were just covering since everyone was around."

"Yeah, wouldn't want the guys to know."

"Or Sam. I swear, she can be worse than Jack sometimes with the teasing."

"Worse than the colonel?!" Was she really? Oh, he did not just say that.

"Yeah," he continued. Digging. Deeper and deeper... "Jack just overtly makes fun of me. Sam sort of sits back and makes these faces."

She didn't make faces, did she? She thought she was rather inconspicuous when it came to her internal laughs at Daniel's expense.

"She's not that bad... is she?" she asked meekly.

He put his arms around her waste. "Well, if she ever found out about this-" he kissed the end of her nose- "you'd know."

"I have to go," she huffed. "Lots to do." Like giving Janet a piece of her mind for not telling her about this. This, the thing with Daniel, as well as this, the thing about her being worse than the colonel.

"We still on for tonight?" he asked as she opened the door.

"Ask me later."


"Sorry," Janet offered pathetically. "He's right though, you do make faces."

"Like what?"

Janet waggled her eyebrows a bit, made her mouth twitch a little, scrunched up her nose just a tad.

"I do *not* do that!"

"You do. Call Cassie before something catastrophic happens."


"But I'm going to the *movies*!" the teenager whined. "Andrea's mom is picking me up in, like, fifteen minutes!"

"Cass, honey, it's really important that you come to the SGC with us," Sam pleaded.

"So what? I call and say 'hey, there's been some alien incursion or something and my mom needs my help?'"


Janet had had enough. Sam could see her switch into Mom-mode (which was really frightening, because it was her body playing Mom).

"Young lady, you *call* Andrea, tell her *something* came up, and you get your butt in the car because you're coming with us!"

Cassie paled.

Wow, Sam could make a really scary mom someday. Cool.

"Sorry, Sam. I'll go call."


"This is really weird," Cassie declared from Sam's body.

Janet plastered a scowl on Cassie's face. "No, what's weird is *this*." She lifted Cassie's form-fitting shirt to reveal a sparkly silver belly-button ring.

Cassie rolled Sam's eyes. "It's not real, Mom." She reached over and yanked it from her belly.


"Relax, Mom, it's *my* body."

"Well I'm the current resident, and that *hurt*!"

"Anyways..." Sam jumped in, reminding them all that they were here for a reason and that reason was to get themselves into the right places.

"Just don't even *think* about getting a real one. I don't care whose body it is," Janet ordered before grabbing the handles opposite from Sam.

"Wow, Cass, it really does hurt," Sam said as she found herself looking at Janet. Real Janet, inside and out. Cassie's bellybutton was kind of throbbing from where the piece of deviant metal had been so unceremoniously ripped.

"Well it can't be worse than this sore ankle," Cassie assured her.

"What sore ankle?"

Janet looked decidedly guilty.


"I sort of tripped a little on the stairs to the control room. I'm not used to those long legs!" she defended.

Sam groaned. Down-time it is, then.

"Come on, Cass. Me and you."

"Carter, why the hell are you messing with that thing?"

She jumped about a mile. "Sir!"

"Cassie?" He was downright befuddled.


"Over here, Jack," Cassie called, waving Sam's hand.

What would be the topic with her plants for the next six weeks? Soap operas? They were sick of hearing about alien technology.

"My, Cassie, you've changed," the colonel quipped, eyeing Sam-in-Cassie humorously.

"Cassie, just grab the damn handles."

The colonel raised an eyebrow.

"Ok, ok, fine." Cassie took hold of the handles. Sam closed her eyes.

She was beyond exuberant when she opened them to find herself in her own body once again.

She bounced a little to test the ankle. It wasn't so bad.

"Ow, that *does* hurt," Cassie grumbled, rubbing her sore stomach.

"Just think of what a real one would feel like," Janet scolded. "Alright, call Andrea. I'll drop you two off for a later show."

"How late?" Cassie asked excitedly as Janet led her out of Sam's lab.

"Eight thirty."

"That means I'll be out until, like, eleven!" Cassie shouted before the voices faded away.

"So," the colonel started.

"Sir, I'm sorry. I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want to get our mission list scrubbed."

"Carter, I was hoping you'd do *exactly* that."

"Sir, I have nothing I could possibly do for six weeks. I have no life outside of here."

"Well, I have an idea that could take up a bit of it," he suggested.

"Let me guess."

"C'mon, Carter. It'll be fun. And even if it isn't... well, you know how Thor likes to cut my fishing trips short. Maybe you'll get to play in space after all."

"Well, when you put it that way..."


"Hello?" Daniel answered the phone on the first ring. He'd been trying to reach Janet for hours but apparently she'd left the base right after he'd seen her in the infirmary.

"Hey, sorry I didn't talk to you earlier."

"S'ok. Is everything alright? You were acting really strange today."

She chuckled seductively. "I wasn't exactly myself," she explained. "But I'm all me now, and Cassie's at the movies..."

"What do you have in mind?" he asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"Get your ass over here and find out for yourself. Doctor's orders."

Oh yes, Daniel decided. She was definitely herself again.

The End


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