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Casey was washing out two of her saucepans and her measuring cups when the phone rang. She answered, delighted to find out that it was the hairdresser that Carrie, the young woman who worked at the Dairy Queen, had suggested. She had left a message earlier, giving the woman she talked to an idea of what she wanted, and that she'd be bringing her almost three year old daughter with her for a cut, a manicure and a pedicure. Marcie, the stylist, was thrilled to be able to work on Casey Jackson's hair, and the owner of the salon wanted permission to photograph her, and Emily, for an ad in the local newspaper. The owner was even willing to give Casey a twenty-five percent discount. She'd never been able to turn down a good deal!

"Okay, as long as the pictures are taken after everything is done!"

Marcie laughed. "Not a problem. We want people to see how good our work is!"

"This sounds great. So we're set for Thursday afternoon?"

"That's right. Come in around three o'clock, and we should have you and little Miss Emily out of here by five-thirty."

Casey smiled. "Okay! See you then!" She looked at the island. The chicken pot pies were almost finished, the enchilada casserole was already in the freezer, as were four pans of lasagna. Daniel loved her lasagna. Tonight it was hamburgers and tater tots, and it was all going on the grill. She sighed and went back to making more casseroles.

A  A  A  A  A  A

They were sitting on the bed, and Daniel was brushing her hair. "You're really okay with me getting my hair cut?" she asked.

"As long as you don't get it cut too short. I love the way it hides us from the world, when you bend over me, or lean over me. I've always loved that," he replied.

She smiled. "I won't cut it short, I promise."

"You said your shoulder blades, that it would be at least that long," he reminded her.

"I promise, Daniel. You won't be disappointed." Her smile widened. He didn't know it, but it wasn't going to be cut much above her waist. She had decided that it was more important that Daniel was pleased, than that she have a cut she probably wouldn't like anyway. She'd had cut her hair short once, when she was in college, and had never liked all the hassle of keeping it curled. She liked being able to wash it, dry it and go. Or even just wash it, comb it and go. She knew how to make it look full, had electric rollers if she wanted a more sophisticated style. She liked that Daniel wrapped his hands in it, and pulled her down for kisses. She liked that he braided it, and brushed it for her. And she liked hiding from the world with him as well. Besides, she could use it to hide behind when she didn't want to look at someone, didn't want them to see what was in her always far too expressive eyes.

He wrapped her hair around his fist, tugged gently until she leaned back against him. "I'm going to miss feeling it on my legs when you drop your head back," he said softly.

"I'm not going to miss sitting on it," she replied.

He smiled. "Love you, Angel."

"Love you, too."

"So, have you decided what you want for your birthday?"

"Oh, I have an idea. But I don't think you'll let me have it," she replied wickedly.

"Uh huh. What?"

"Well, Carly is having a dance review next month."

"And?"

"She's having some of the Chippendale dancers from Las Vegas do a show for one night. Ladies only."

"Uh huh."

"And I'd like tickets to go."

"Right. Let's see, you won't let me go see a stripper, but you want to go see these guys do the same thing?"

"Hey, I didn't want to get one for your birthday. I learned two dances for you, pal! And you got to touch…and feel…and play."

"Uh huh. No."

"Daniel! It's just a show!"

"Come on, Case, if I can't, you can't."

"When have you ever wanted to go see a stripper?"

Daniel tossed the hairbrush onto the nightstand, and stood up.

"Daniel?"

"I never said I wanted to go see one."

She turned and looked at him. "Daniel Melburn Jackson! When did you go see a stripper?"

Daniel pulled back the blankets, and settled into bed.

"Daniel!" She tried to think back…had he been 'working' any Tuesday night since Esteban's had started having "For Gentlemen Only" night? She couldn't remember for sure, but if she found out he'd been in there, she was going to kill him!

He looked over at her. Uh oh. Those green eyes were full of Fire, and it wasn't the kind that meant she was going to be making love to him tonight.

She studied him for a minute, then started giggling. "Oh, my god! That's where you and Jack and Teal'c and General Hammond disappeared to the night before Sam and Jack got married!"

He blushed. "She wasn't as good, or as sexy, or as beautiful as you," he mumbled.

With a giggle, she bounced to her knees, then jumped on top of him. He grunted when she landed on him, then wrapped his arms around her. "You are too funny. You also realize this means I'm getting that ticket."

"If you come home all worked up, don't think I’m going to scratch that itch for you!"

"Why? I scratched yours when you got home! I never could figure out why you were so horny that night!" She giggled again, remembering him coming home reeking of beer, stumbling into the bedroom, falling over as he tried to take off his pants, and the raging hard-on that he'd had. He had made love to her three times before he finally went to sleep…or rather, passed out.

He glared at her. "I had no idea that's where we were going when we started out. We started at O'Malley's. Then we went to another place, can't remember the name of it. Then Jack started telling Teal'c about strip clubs, and that damned Jaffa insisted on seeing one for himself. So off to Deezers we went."

She was on her back laughing. "You could have come home, you know." She looked up at him. "Daniel, that wasn't the first time you'd ever been in one of those clubs, was it?"

"Legally? Yes."

By now she was laughing hysterically. She rolled to her side, ran her fingers up and down his chest. "If I find out you've been to Esteban's, you'll sleep on the couch until the kids graduate from college."

He smiled, rolled to his side to face her. He knew that she meant every word that she said. "I haven't. I won't. Why should I go there, when I have my very own stripper here? That I can touch, and feel, and play with." His hand moved over her breasts.

She cocked her head sideways. "I think I know what I want for my birthday."

"What?"

"I want you to strip for me."

His eyes went wide. "You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. Talk to Carly. She'll help you get it figured out. In the meantime, I have an itch that really needs to be scratched."

He pulled her close. "That I can do. I’m very good at scratching itches."

"I know. You're the best, an expert," she said softly, just before his lips claimed hers in a kiss.

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