Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).
STORY STATUS: Completed 11-10-05
SERIES/SEQUEL INFO: Companion piece to `Kanan'
ARCHIVE PERMISSIONS: Ask first. I'll probably say yes.
WORD COUNT: 224
My mind is in chaos. It's intentional. Mostly.
So much for the Tok'ra and their `truly symbiotic relationship' crap.
I've clearly posted `No Trespassing' signs all over the place and this joker is blatantly ignoring them. If he really gave a damn about me (or any host for that matter) he'd respect my boundaries.
Crap! One minute he worming his snaky little body into my mouth, next I'm on my hands and knees on the muddy ground with this searing pain in my back. How the Sam Hell did I get here? For that matter, where is here?
Oh gross! Puking up snake really sucks! I close my eyes as I groan and collapse face first into the mud. I start to crawl and shudder inwardly as I hear the approaching Jaffa. This will not be fun. Not that it'll last long. A boot-clad foot steps on my hand. Who's he calling Tok'ra? He calls one of his buddies and I'm turned onto my back.
The pain is unbearable. Somehow, I know that death won't end my suffering for long. Where there are Jaffa, there are Goa'uld's. Where there are Goa'uld's, there are sarcophagi. God, I _really_ hate those things.
The Jaffa yells again. As death mercifully claims me, my last thought is `This is _so_ the last time I _ever_ trust a snake'.
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