Author's Note: The italicized words are thoughts, those within the slashes are the thoughts of the Tok'ra symbiote. This story takes place sometime in season two of Supernatural, and somewhere in season 7 or 8 of Stargate Sg-1. A basic familiarity with both shows is good to have. Hope you enjoy! (Let me know if the formatting works.)

Prologue:

"This is going to be wonderful." //Calm down, Sarai, you're behaving like a young child, and we want to make a good impression on our allies.// You're right, R'kenoth, sorry. They need to see that I'm mature enough for this//Do you want me to do the talking?// Yes, I think you'd better.

The young woman dipped her head, and when she faced the group again, her eyes glowed for an instant before settling into a normal appearance. "Please excuse Sarai's exuberance. She is looking forward to a multitude of new experiences. As am I, truth be told. Although I am only of middle age for a Tok'ra, I have seen many cultures, and am anxious to learn more about the Tau'ri, of whom we do not have much knowledge."

"That's something we're glad to hear, R'kenoth. When we first came up with the idea for this exchange program, we weren't sure the Tok'ra would think Earth culture a worthy subject of study." General Hammond relaxed slightly in his chair at the head of the briefing room table. "Unfortunately our past experiences with the Tok'ra have not all been as beneficial as we would have liked."

"Once I convinced Anise of the value of learning more about 'primitive' cultures in order to help them develop apart from Goa'uld interference…" Daniel began.

Sam interrupted, "And we're very glad they decided to send you and Sarai as the first participants."

"Over the next few days, SG-1 has been assigned to take you around Colorado Springs and let you observe this corner of the United States, and then next week you'll be taking a short trip with Colonel O'Neill up to Denver to observe our political process at the state level." General Hammond proceeded to explain the itinerary, as the interplanetary exchange student listened with the full focus of host and symbiote attention.

Chapter One:

Gas Station off I-25, somewhere in Colorado:

A black Impala pulled up to the pump, and a young man in leather jacket got out of the car, bending over to say something to the figure in the passenger seat before heading into the convenience store. The man was of average height, strongly built with features that told of heartbroken women left behind. Currently, his full lips were twisted into a smirk, which widened into a grin as he caught sight of a fellow traveler stopped for gas. He only had a moment to stare at the young woman standing outside a black SUV since his mission, unfortunately, was to get gas and keep moving, not to pick up cute chicks. He gave the brunette a quick nod as he passed, before entering the store.

His brother, left to sit in the well-kept classic car, had followed Dean's progress and took notice of his brother's distraction. Sam sighed. The oldest Winchester brother was absolutely incorrigible when it came to women. C'mon, man! She's with somebody! Sam had observed the black SUV as they pulled in, and had noticed an older man talking to the woman before going inside to pay for gas. The silver-haired man was emerging from the store even as Dean went inside, and went over to begin filling up his gas guzzling vehicle. Even if he is old enough to be her father, and for all we know he might be!

Sam glanced around the area out of boredom, since the hottie Dean had spotted had moved out of sight. Besides the Impala and SUV there was only one other car getting fuel, a nondescript pick-up truck with a fading coat of red paint. The owner was no where to be seen, and Sam absently noted that he hadn't seen the man go into the store, and must've already been inside when they pulled in. Dude, how long does it take to pay for gas, come on!

They had noticed a number of strange weather patterns centered on Colorado Springs over the last ten years, and had decided to investigate, since one of the signs which heralded the presence of the demon responsible for their mother's death was unusual storms. They hadn't had any other leads in months, and although it was a long shot, it was all they had to go on. Not to mention there were always one or two haunted houses they could clean in any given city. Sam's stomach growled. That's it, he thought, Dean's taking too long. I've gotta get a Snickers or something. Just as he unbuckled his seat belt, the unmistakable sound of a gun shot rang out, and Sam leapt out of the car in time to see the pretty young woman he and Dean had observed fall to the ground as she opened the door of the convenience store.

Fifteen minutes earlier:

A black SUV pulled into the gas station, stopping next to a pump. "O'Neill, I don't understand why we're stopping? I thought we wanted to get to Denver early so you could show me around before the meeting?"

"Sarai?" She nodded, "Call me Jack, and good work on the "I" thing. And yes, we will get there early, but I have to fill up, refuel, the truck." Jack unbuckled his seat belt, and mentally congratulated himself on his brilliant excuse for not having to wear his Class A's all day. Getting there early enough to sight see meant getting there with enough time to take a shower and change. "These things are great for impressive looking rescue ops, but man! I'm just glad the SGC is paying for gas and not me." He got out of the truck, and Sarai followed suit. "Just stay here, I have to go in and pay. Don't touch anything, just – observe."

Sarai followed his instructions, but she complained to R'kenoth. Reken, I want to see everything on Earth! Why won't he let me come inside?// Sarai, you're sounding like a child again. I think there will plenty of other opportunities to see the inside of these fueling stations, we've passed many of them this week.// True. And this way I can get a closer look at the different types of vehicles they use. Sarai looked around, and caught the eye of a man walking past, who smiled at her and dipped his head. Well, at least some Tau'ri are polite. I'm glad Arnoast was wrong about the normal ones being rude and violent. //Arnoast is just a sour old Tok'ra who's lived in his little hole too long. The Tau'ri are people, and come in all varieties.//

Sarai wasn't listening, for she had caught sight of a beautiful, sleek, shiny black transport sitting by a gas pump across from them. Oh R'kenoth. She's beautifulSarai breathed. If we ever get a transport vehicle of our own while we're here, we have to get one like that. Even the High Counsel would have to admit no ship looks better! R'kenoth let out a dry chuckle. //I'm afraid you may be on your own in your love for these primitive transports, Sarai. It still uses the wheel! But I admit, there is something aesthetically pleasing about that one. Although the man inside it staring at us is a bit disconcerting…//

Before Sarai could launch into further raptures about the car, Jack returned, and began filling up the SUV. "Ah, Sarai, I'll be right back, okay?"

"What are you doing now?"

"Call of nature. Won't take more than a minute or two. And keep an eye on the pump."

"Call of nature? What-" //It's a human euphemism for when they need to urinate or otherwise dispose of their bodily waste.// R'kenoth explained. Oh. Sarai leaned back against the truck. R'kenoth, how do I 'keep an eye on the pump'? But this even the Tok'ra could not decipher. They had had only a limited time to prepare for this mission, and there were many, many human euphemisms and colloquialisms to learn that the Stargate could not aid in translating, only a few of which R'kenoth had time to study //I sorry, Sarai, I do not recall the meaning of that phrase.// I suppose we can go ask him. Sarai suggested. Receiving the assent from R'kenoth, Sarai left the car and walked toward the glass doors which lead into the building. If Sarai had been a human, what happened next may not have occurred. Then again, if she had been human, she would not have had to find and ask O'Neill to explain himself. For most humans know that gas station bathrooms are often on the outside of the building, not inside, and Sarai would not have caught the attention of the unstable man in the process of robbing the clerk as she opened the front door. The gun, pointed at the clerk, was suddenly aimed at her and a loud "crack" filled her ears. Pain blossomed in her stomach, and Sarai found herself on the ground, bleeding from a bullet wound in her middle.

The would-be robber stared at her for a split second, stunned at what he had done. It wasn't supposed to go down like this! He would just wave the gun around, get the money, and leave! He didn't have a choice, he needed the money, he had to get his fix! It wasn't his fault! She shouldn't have opened the door!

It had all gone wrong from the start. He was just getting gas when the call came, and he found out he had to get another $100 before they'd sell him more crack! He had a gun, and there was a store with money right there! He'd gone in, lurked in the back for awhile, and had just stepped up to make his demands when a man in a leather jacket had entered. The man had picked up a few snacks, and got out his wallet to pay for them when he'd seen his chance and stuck the gun to the back of the guy's head. "PUT THE WALLET ON THE COUNTER, NOW!" he grabbed the clerk's collar and pulled him close at the same time, preventing him from hitting the alarm. "I WANT EVERYTHING IN THE CASH REGISTER! DO IT OR HE'S DEAD!"

The man in the leather jacket had tried talking to him, but Robbie wasn't listening. He was sweating, and the gun was shaking, but all he could think about was the few bills in front of him. The clerk stuttered and apologized, saying it had been a slow day, and he didn't have access to anymore, and please don't shoot, Oh God, please, and… the bell on the door jingled and Robbie reacted without thinking, moving the gun from the man's head to point at the sound. Somehow the gun went off, but Robbie didn't remember pulling the trigger.

The clerk ducked down behind the counter and the man in leather leapt towards him. Robbie fired wildly, grabbed as many bills as he could and ran for his truck, firing a few more times behind him to discourage pursuit. He could feel wetness on his face, but he wasn't sure if it was sweat or tears. It didn't matter. He had the money. He would go get high, and he would forget all about the girl, forget about everything. Escape.

"No!" He had done his best to talk the guy down, but it had been hopeless the moment Dean recognized the signs of drug addiction. It was pretty obvious, since only a psycho or a junkie would try to rob a gas station in the middle of the day. Dean dropped to the floor as the thief fired at him. The bullet grazed his shoulder, but it wasn't bad. The girl, however, had taken her shot full on. A few more bullets whizzed by over head as the desperate robber had fire back wildly, but as soon as it stopped Dean jumped up and ran outside to where the girl lay curled up on the pavement, lying in a growing puddle of her own blood.

Sam ran up, gun in hand, as Dean knelt by the injured woman. "Dean, are you okay? I saw the shooter, but he got in his truck and drove off before I could do anything."

"Yeah, I'm fine. But she's not. Took a shot nearly at point blank range."

"Sarai, Rekenoth!" The silver haired man Sam had seen earlier ran over to them, a Beretta held comfortably in his hand. "Colonel Jack O'Neill, US Air Force, who the hell are you." He demanded tersely.

Dean sat back on his knees, hands raised in surrender. "Just concerned bystanders, sir. We saw your friend get shot and wanted to try and help."

Jack looked at the boys, and made a split second decision. "Fine. Stay here with her, try and staunch the bleeding, but don't call 9-1-1. I'll give my people a call." He ran to the SUV, quickly pulling out the gas pump and closing the tank cover. Jumping into the driver's seat, he gunned the engine and the SUV peeled out of the gas station in pursuit if the shooter, who Jack had glimpsed as he ran around the corner from the bathroom.

"What?" Dean asked, completely confused as to what had just happened. "Screw that, she just got shot!" He exclaimed, disregarding the man's orders. "Sammy, call 9-1-1."

"Already on it." And indeed, even as Jack had jumped into his truck, Sam had pulled out and dialed his cell phone.