Dite's Decadent Delights, Thursday

[nofishinmypond.livejournal.com]

So, here Jack was. In the sex shop. Behind the counter, in the sex shop.

He wasn't entirely sure how he'd gotten talked into it, but he suspected he'd probably just agreed for the heck of it. Eh, what the hell.

And the not-a-Goa'uld goddess wanted him to "give it a man's touch". What the hell did that mean, anyway? She probably didn't want him turning the place into a skeevy hole in the wall. Or painting over some of the pink. He'd... figure it out, later. For right now, he had an amazing six-pack of microbrews chilling in a bucket of ice while he wandered the store and familiarized himself with the merchandise. Even the freaky stuff.

In fact, just for the hell of it, he tried on a gimp mask and fiddled with the zipper over his mouth. "Weird."

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[asgardcreated.livejournal.com]

Jon had heard about this on the radio, and had to check it out for himself, just to see if it was true.

Can you guess when he walked in? Just guess.

"...there is not enough brain bleach in the world to erase this image from my head."

[nofishinmypond.livejournal.com]

Jack picked up something long, jiggly, and made of silicone, and waved it at Clone-Boy. "Can it, or I'll tell you where you can shove this."

...

"Not in a sexual way."

...

"Hey, want a beer? Your girl has great taste."

[asgardcreated.livejournal.com]

Jon clapped a hand over his eyes and groaned. "Not helping, old man!"

He was so using this for blackmail. Lots of blackmail. And sending copies to both their Daniels.

"No, I have to go back to work shortly."