Title: Job Satisfaction

Author: Flatkatsi

Email: flatkatsi@optusnet.com.au

Status: Complete

Category: POV, Drabble

Pairings: None

Spoilers: None

Season: Any

Rating: R

Content Warnings: Violence

File Size: 22kb

Summary: Jack enjoys his work

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.

Author’s Note: She made me do it (points) It was her!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Job Satisfaction

 

I stretch my arms up high and try to ease the muscles.

 

I’m aching all over.

 

It’s the good sort of ache though. The ache that you get when you’ve been working hard. Using all your energy up doing something worthwhile.

 

Something that you love.

 

I smile to myself and keep the thoughts inside where no one else can see. I hide behind a thin veneer, cracking as it is getting older.

 

I look down at the dead under my feet and bend to pick up an almost clean piece of cloth. Who knew what it once was, who once wore it. It is still of use now, even after its owner is dead.

 

My knife drips. With practised strokes I wipe it down lovingly, then let the sodden material fall to land across the face of a young Jaffa. He stares sightlessly up, with an almost accusing glare. I only glance at him for a second, the obscene wound across his throat looking for all the world like a second mouth, one that screams aloud in terror. It is a sight that I have come accustomed to seeing over the years. When once it would have horrified, now it barely registers.

 

I sheath my knife at my side, where it can be reached easily. It is my weapon of choice whenever I am alone. It hasn’t left my side for years, we grow old together. So much more personal than the P90. You can feel every twitch of movement. It responses to my commands as if it was sentient.

 

I take a last look around, just to be sure. Listening for any breaths, any sighs. Doesn’t do to turn your back on your enemy. Better men than I have found that out to their cost.

 

All is still. The Jaffa sleep the sleep of the slaughtered. They didn’t know who they were dealing with. A weak Tauri, outnumbered four to one was no threat.

 

But I enjoy my job.

 

 

The End