"Are you serious?" Buffy asked dubiously, fingering the golden appliqué symbol she'd just been ordered to superglue to her forehead. "I mean, won't he be able to tell I don't have one of those--" She gestured vaguely at her abdomen.
Teal'c inclined his head. "The prevalence of Free Jaffa using tretonin has risen dramatically as their Goa'uld symbiotes have matured and access to new larvae has become limited," he explained.
"Which means as long as you can defend yourself against his Jaffa," Cam said, "and don't let him get his hand up your shirt, there's no way Ba'al can prove you aren't what you say you are."
"And that's the ex-First-Prime of some snake called Ass tart?" Buffy raised her eyebrows in disbelief.
"Astarte," Daniel corrected her, wincing. "An ex-consort of his. We think he'll want to question you about her personally, rather than using a clone."
She narrowed her eyes. "If this turns out to be some kind of haze-the-new-team-member costume prank..."
"It is not," Teal'c said, eyes sparkling with amusement, his deep voice a pleasant, familiar rumble in her bones.
...She could always use it to play dress-up with her ex-First-Prime boyfriend afterward, Buffy thought speculatively, and smiled.