Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

Pete flipped through the magazine, his eyes skimming over the print on the page. He was bored. B-O-A-R-D bored. Yeah, this may be 'one of the best' hospitals, but they sucked in the entertainment area. They didn't even have a TV for him to watch, and the magazines he'd been given were all at least a year out of date. Not to mention a distinct lack of visitors. Other than Sam, only the doctor and a couple of nurses had been by. Even the halls were empty, and he had to wonder if the personnel of this base were simply ignoring him or if there were big huge 'Interloper Ahead: Avoid like the Plague' signs out there somewhere.

He didn't know if the lack of amusement was an example of military frugalness or if they were deliberately trying to make him feel unwelcome. Of course, the guard standing outside his door gave him a pretty good indication of exactly how welcome he was.

A large figure appeared in the doorway and he looked up, eager for the distraction. As he watched, a huge black man walked into the room, a cardboard box grasped in his hands.

He grabbed a chair and pulled it over to the bed, sitting down, still without saying a word. "Aah, hello?" Pete asked, frowning at the man. He was bald and there was an odd golden tattoo thing on his forehead. He wore a sleeveless shirt and Pete could see his muscles ripple as he sat there. An old saying of his dad's flitted through his mind. Built like a brick shit house took a whole new meaning.

"You are Pete Shanahan," he said, his deep voice calm.

"Umm, yeah." Pete stared at him. "Wait, I know you. You were at the house," he said, now recognizing him. He'd been one of the two to go into the house and then stood behind the older, gray haired man when all the shooting had started.

"Yes. I am Teal'c. I am a teammate of Major Carter's."

"Oh, right. Sam talked about you." He didn't reply, simply staring at him. "Umm, she said that you were, well that you were an-"

"I am a Jaffa Warrior," he interrupted. "I have fought along side Major Carter for seven years. Together, we have killed many false gods," he said, his deep tones carrying just a bit of a bragging note.

"False gods?"

"That is how the goa'uld portray themselves, how they subjugate a people. They pretend to be gods."

"Aah."

"I myself served one such false god for over seventy of your years, thirty of those as First Prime."

"Seventy?" Pete asked, sure that he'd herd things wrong.

"During my time as First Prime I learned much," he said, ignoring Pete's interruption. "I would lead my lord's armies in campaigns to attack other goa'uld, to steal their territory or control their riches." He raised his eyes, meeting Pete's gaze. "I was never defeated."

"Never?"

"Donut?" he asked, holding up the pastry box.

"What?"

"It is my understanding that members of law enforcement have an affinity for donuts," Teal'c said calmly. "I find the ones with fruit jelly inside most enjoyable."

"Um, yeah, thanks," Pete said, picking up a filled donut. Teal'c merely nodded, lowering his head slightly as he closed the lid on the box without taking a donut himself. He set it on the edge of the bed.

"My lord did not always defeat his rivals with the honor of a battle," Teal'c continued, as Pete took a big bite of the donut. He moaned silently. This was good. These were the freshest donuts he'd had in a long time. He needed to ask the man where he got them. "Occasionally he would assassinate them."

"Assassinate?" Pete choked out, swallowing convulsively.

"Indeed. His favored method was to poison his rivals. This was not always an easy task. Most goa'uld were guarded, protected by armies of fanatically loyal Jaffa. In addition, the healing powers of the symbiote is capable of rendering many poisons useless. However, I became most knowledgeable in which botanicals were strong enough to overcome even the fortitude of a goa'uld," he said proudly. "And most adept at administering my poison in a manner that drew little suspicion."

"Really?" Pete asked weakly, looking down at the donut in his hand, the sugar covered surface now bearing a striking resemblance to a coiled rattler.

"Indeed. I regret that many of these plants are not native to Earth." Pete sighed slightly. "However, with the aid of Doctor Fraiser, I have been able to find a few substitutes among the flora of this planet. They are not quite perfect, but are capable of delivering the desired effect."

"That's aah, that's good." He inclined his head, looking to Pete like an ancient king that was granting a boon to a subject. Pete stared at the donut in his hand, really not having anywhere but the bed sheets to set it down on, but also not wanting to set it down and have the alien think that he was rude or something.

"One of Apophis' favored methods was to have a dual poison."

"A duel?" Pete asked, images of aliens with glowing eyes facing off with swords or laser pistols at ten paces dancing through his brain.

Teal'c gave him a condescending look, as if Pete had just said the stupidest thing in the world. "The poison would consist of two parts. Separate, they are harmless, undetectable. Yet, they would also be substances that would remain in the body for many decades. Should his rival ever commit an act Apophis found undesirable, he would deliver the catalyst. I often regretted when he would ask that task of me." Teal'c looked up to meet Pete's eyes. "Despite all my years of battle, I still do not enjoy watching someone, even an enemy, writhing in agony as their body is consumed from within."

"Writhing?"

"It is a most unpleasant experience."

"Ah, yeah, I can imagine," Pete said, setting the donut down. He wiped his fingers on the sheets, resisting the urge to jump out of bed and go into the bathroom and wash his hands. The bit of donut he'd eaten now sat in his stomach like a lead weight. It reminded him of the last time he'd been too lazy to go out and had instead eaten week old Chinese leftovers out of the fridge.

"It is my understanding that you desire to pursue a relationship with Samantha Carter," Teal'c said.

"What?" Pete shook his head, the sudden change of topic throwing him a bit.

"Samantha Carter has said that you and she are…seeing each other, I believe the Earth term is."

"Um, aah, yeah. We aah, we are."

Teal'c nodded. "Has she also informed you as to the fate of her previous suitors?"

"Previous?"

"One of them perished in this very facility. I believe he was shot several times."

"Shot?" Pete shook his head. "No, no, no, no. It was all a joke, right? That boyfriend stuff is all a joke?" He stared at Pete, not saying a word. "Isn't it?"

He stood up and stood over him, his massive arms clasped loosely behind his back. "Major Carter has many friends in this facility, and even more among the alien allies of this world. I believe the last person that threatened her well being spent several months in a cage in a safe house in Minot, North Dakota," he said softly, his quiet voice sending chills down Pete's spine. The alien stared at him for a moment, then turned on his heel and stalked from the room.

<><><><><>

Sam walked down the hall, whistling slightly under her breath. "Teal'c," she said, frowning at the sight of her teammate exiting Pete's room, an odd expression on his face. "Is everything ok?"

"Major Carter," he acknowledged. "Everything is quite well, thank you."

He walked past her and Sam paused, frowning as he made his way down the hall. Shrugging, she turned, peeking around the edge of Pete's door. "Pete, hey are you ok? You look pale."

Around the corner, a Jaffa paused, smiling slightly before continuing on his way. It appeared that O'Neill was correct. Chitchat could be a most enjoyable way to pass time.

~Fin~

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