"Don't you dare go into the house," Jack warns, trying to hide his smirk. The hose which soaked me from head to toe is now hanging limp in his hand.

I have my hand on the door, threatening to step through.

"I just washed the kitchen floor."

So I strip. On the deck. Outside in the summer heat. My shoes, socks, pants, shirt and boxers, until I'm standing buck naked, with my sodden garments strewn around me. Screw the neighbors. Right now I'm soaked to the skin. Pissed. And my clothes are too wet to even dry my glasses on. "I promise I won't make a mess now."

"Wait, Daniel." He checks to make sure sweet, but very nosey Mrs. Walsh is not standing on her back porch, then grabs my arm.

I look down at the hose.

"Next time don't sneak up on a man watering his lawn." He smiles apologetically then drops the hose. "Now hold on." He slides my glasses off, huffs on them, then cleans them on his shirt.

"Thank you." I stick out my hand, but he ignores me and puts them back on my face, hooking the earpieces over my ears then pushes them back up my nose. "Better?"

"Better?" I look down at my naked body, my pile of wet clothes and shake my head.

"Well, you can at least see now."

I glance at my watch. "You better call Cassie and tell her we might be a bit late picking her up."

"We're not going to be late; the movie doesn't start for another four hours." Jack scoops up my clothes. "We'll just throw these puppies in the dryer and we'll be good to go."

"We're going to be late," I say as I follow him into the kitchen. I stop. Frozen. Literally. My balls have run up into my body cavity to conserve heat and my dick is nowhere to be found. "Shit!" The air conditioning is running at full blast. And me… I'm naked. And Jack, the bastard, turns to look at me, his gaze falling on my disappearing manhood and laughs; and keeps laughing all the way down to the basement with my wet clothes.

I scamper, which visually I don't even want to imagine how I look, into the bedroom and start to open up all the drawers and find nothing, except a pair of mismatched socks. "Jack!" I bellow as I go into the bathroom to find a towel to dry off. Once again, nothing. All those stupid bars are empty. Oh wait, there's one of those minute hand towels, which I use to dry my body, totally ignoring the crusted and caked-on toothpaste in the corner. Military training all these years at the SGC has taught me to improvise, and so I do before I die of hypothermia, but by the time I finish my teeth are chattering.

Jack's sitting naked on the bed dangling the socks and I grab them out of his hands, flop down next to him and put them on. His clothes are neatly folded, draped over the back of the chair.

"Jack?"

"Hmmm?"

"I know why I'm naked…"

"You're not naked, you have socks on."

I try again. "Okay, I know why I'm mostly naked, but why are you—"

"In the buff? Sexy?" He smiles that I'm-not-stupid-but-I-know-it-annoys-the-crap-outta-you smile.

"Focus, Jack."

"You're no fun."

"I'm cold. Naked." I lift up my legs. "And I'm wearing mismatched socks. No, I'm not fun at all."

"Aaahhh," he says with a lift of his finger. "That is exactly why I'm naked."

"Jack?"

"Daniel?"

"What the hell are you trying to say?"

Jack tsk's, obviously exasperated with my ignorance. "I'm naked to share my body heat."

"Doesn't it help if you're dressed? If you're as naked as I am, what heat are you…" I get up and reach towards his folded clothes.

"What are you doing?" Jack's on me in a second.

"If you're not going to use these, then I'm going to—" Next thing I know, I'm flat on my back, spread eagle across the bed with Jack plastered over me.

"This is what I meant by body heat."

"Yeah? So this is what you had in mind when you soaked me with the hose? You had an ulterior motive to get me naked—"

"Nope. I'm just taking advantage of a great opportunity." He moves against me.

My dick and balls appear to be very interested in Jack's conversation and decide to come out and play, while I, on the other hand, need a tad more convincing. "Can you answer a question?"

His grunt of annoyance is buried in my neck.

"Why is it more important to have a clean kitchen floor than a stitch of clean clothing?"

He reaches underneath me and grabs my ass, I jump and my dick comes to immediate attention. "Because having no clothes leads to a naked Daniel in my bed. The clean kitchen floor just leads to… ummm, nothing."

I reach out and grab two handfuls of blankets, pulling them up, around and over us.

"See, now *this* is fun," Jack says into the blanket-covered blackness.

* * *

I sit up slowly, unstick my glasses from where they're imbedded into my face and straighten them before squinting at the clock. We have about another two hours before we have to go pick up Cassie for her night out with us, so Janet can enjoy *her* night out. Ah, the things we do for the woman in our life with the big needles.

Jack's still sleeping, so I grab his shirt as I tiptoe out of the bedroom. My clothes should be dry by now so I head towards the basement.

My mistake, however, is slipping on Jack's shirt while I take the first step down the stairs. I miss. Big time. And all I can think of as my limbs are flying every which way trying to stop my descent, is that this is going to hurt like a son of a bitch when I finally hit the ground.

* * *

"Shit, Daniel… open your eyes for me, will ya, damnit?"

"Ow," I whimper without even opening my eyes.

"That last step was a doozie, huh?" Gentle hands skim my body.

"It was the first step," I moan. "Fuck!" I open my eyes and try to smack away one of the hands belonging to the group of Jacks touching my right knee.

"Pretty impressive." All the Jacks nod in sync.

"I think I'm going to be—" I turn away from Jack and vomit on the floor and on his shirt that I'm sorta wearing.

He eases me back down and uses a clean corner of the shirt to wipe around my face, then slowly slips it from my body. "Guess I'm outta clothes," he says, tossing it into the corner.

I close my eyes; it's less distracting that way. "Could I possibly—"

"What? Get up? Go back up the stairs?"

"My clothes. Dryer," I stutter as the cold begins to seep into my body.

"Okay, I'll check, don't move."

"Ha. Ha." I shift, doing a self-appraisal of my extremely aching body, and stupidly struggle to sit up.

"Don't you dare move," Jack shouts from somewhere in the room.

"Not moving." Really, I don't think I could if I wanted to.

Jack appears by my side. "Take it easy." He guides me back down and tucks a blanket around my body.

"Where's my clothes?" I'm grateful for the blanket, but I would've preferred something a bit more practical.

"Daniel…" Jack says my name slowly.

Immediately, I become suspicious. "Jack?"

"You have a concussion."

I give him a thumb's up. The fact that I'm nauseated and still seeing more than one Jack would lead me to believe that concussion would be on the top of my injury list.

"And your knee…"

"My knee?" I try to bend it, then stop, embarrassed by my girly shriek.

Jack lifts the blanket. "Wow, do you know you blush over your entire body?"

"Go away."

"No can do."

"Why?"

He grimaces and looks very guilty. "IcalledFraiser," he says, making sure every inch from my shoulder down is covered.

"You called Janet?"

He nods.

"Now?"

"No, not *now*, when I went to get the blanket."

"You. Called. Janet?"

"Yeah. You're hurt. I'm afraid to move you. What? You wanted me to call an ambulance? Jeeze, Daniel, you're naked."

"My clothes are in the dryer."

"Truthfully… I forgot to turn the—"

"You didn't," I hiss.

"Did."

"Crap, Jack. How could you… what are you going to wear when Janet shows up?"

"I must have a semi clean pair of something in that pile."

"I'm going to kill you," I manage to grind out.

* * *

I'm one big hurt by the time Janet shows up, all decked out in a fancy green dress and high heels. I'm still lying on the floor wearing a pair of mismatched socks and a blanket. Jack? He's got on a pair of grey sweats with a strategically placed spaghetti stain.

Janet looks at Jack, who looks at me.

"Don't look at me," I say. "I didn't call her, you did."

She slips out of her heels and kneels down by my side. Janet pulls down the blanket. I pull the blanket back up. "Don't let the dress fool you, Daniel, I'm still capable of making your life a living hell. I don't care why you're naked—"

"It's not what you think."

"I have a very vivid imagination, Daniel, it can very well be what I'm thinking. Now shut up, and let me examine you."

* * *

She's not happy. "You have a concussion."

"I know."

"I want that knee x-rayed."

"Tomorrow… morning, first thing, after Jack dries my clothes."

"I don't want to know why Jack's drying your clothes, do I?"

I ignore her and touch the hem of her dress. "You need to go out tonight."

Janet laughs. "You think you're up to taking Cassie to the movies tonight?"

"Dinner in the kitchen. A DVD in the den and you'll go out with the person who deserves this beautiful dress." Right now I'll dance naked on the front lawn if she'll let me up off the floor.

"I have a better idea."

* * *

I don't know how Janet thinks this is better. I'm lying on the couch in the den in the basement. Jack and Cassie are hysterically laughing at the movie on the TV and ignoring me. Janet's on the floor and Sam's sitting on a chair. Both the women are all dressed up, their night on the town cut short by a clumsy, naked archaeologist.

Cassie pauses the movie. "I'm going to go get some snacks, anyone want anything?"

"No thanks," Jack answers and I slowly shake my head.

"I want some coffee. Colonel, do you have any—"

"Cookies are on the top shelf."

As soon as the women head up the stairs, Jack comes over and sits on the edge of the couch. "How are you feeling?"

"Stupid and naked."

"Nakedly stupid." Jack tries to peek under the blanket. "Works for me." He touches a bruise on my shoulder. "Your clothes will be dry in a few minutes."

"A little late," I grouse. "Time for bed. I need a pair of sweats." I finger the soft material of his sweats. I'm jealous.

"Already washing."

I sigh. "My head hurts."

"Concussion. Tylenol help any?"

"A little."

Jack goes all mother henny and fluffs the pillow behind my head and the blanket around my body because he feels guilty. "Next time," Jack says, glancing quickly towards the stairs before stealing a kiss, "never, ever, approach a guy with a weapon in his hand."

"Weapon? You had a hose."

"Hell, I took down the SGC's premier archaeologist and in my book, that constitutes a weapon."

"You just needed to kiss me. That takes me down every single time."