Title: Toga Night

Author: Pinkcat4569

Rating: T for language, adult situations, and drinking

Spoilers: None

Description: The canteen goes to Greece, and Jess decides everyone should wear togas. Will Becker comply? If he does, what will Becker in a toga be like?

Disclaimer: I do not own Primeval or the characters, but I did make up Chef Bernie.

Author's note: This is long, but I had trouble breaking it into chapters, so I think its better to just muddle through it. Sorry.

I'm not Greek. I researched the cuisine online, and even checked out togas a tiny bit. I'm more familiar with Greek food though, having heard of gyros, (e-rows) moussaka, stuffed grape leaves and baklava before. I also have heard of ouzo. Let me know if you think something is wrong.

UPDATE: Thank you to Anna for informing me that togas are Roman and not Greek. I did not know that. I am not changing it, even though it is a cultural error. In my opinion, Jess and the people at the ARC either don't know that, or don't really care. They just want to party. I might add a piece having someone point that out, in the story, and then everyone saying "thank you, but we're not stopping the party!" I also would point out that its' Rome's own fault for confusing us all by adopting the Greek gods. So, thank you, very much. It is a major mistake on my part.

Toga Night

"I'm thinking this was a bad idea," said Jess.

Jess looked lovely in a short, light green toga. It was synched at her waist, with a dark blue sash around her hips. The neckline was asymmetrical, leaving the left arm and shoulder bare. The right arm was sleeveless, but the dark blue fabric gathered at the shoulder and draped down her back. As she walked the drape followed after her. She wore gold, strap-y sandals that tied halfway up her leg. Her hair was all curls, piled on her head and placed into the mound of curls was a small, thin golden crown.

"Why?" asked Conner, wearing a toga made out of a Star Wars sheet. His chest was bare underneath, and when asked, he would gladly show what was under his toga: matching Star Wars shorts.

She looked across the canteen and pointed, "Because no one took this seriously," she said.

The canteen was loaded with togas, mostly white, but like Connor, some people had chosen a print, that is, a bedsheet. Among the sheet togas were, a Tweety Bird toga, an Elvis toga, two the Simpsons togas, a Betty Boop toga, several Doctor Who togas, and a host other tv show and movie togas.

"No one went, well, classy," said Jess.

"You did," said Connor. "You look like an empress."

"Aw, Connor," said Jess, kissing his cheek. "Thank you."

"I disagree," said a smooth, sexy voice. "I think Jess looks like a goddess," said Becker strolling into view.

Jess liked what she saw very much. Somehow, without her knowledge, Becker had managed to match her. His toga was in the dark blue color of her sash/drape. His belt and sash/drape thing matched the light green of her toga. His legs and chest were bare, apparently, under the toga. He looked good in a toga, very good.

His defined chest muscles peeked out of the toga, teasing at the rest hidden behind the fabric. His legs, also defined and muscle-y also looked good. It was a shame to keep those lovely, manly limbs covered. As Jess continued her Becker tour, she saw that his usual black socks and boots were gone, instead he wore simple brown sandals without socks.

As they stood together, looking like the embodiment of the Greek gods, Jess and Becker complemented each other perfectly. She gestured at their togas.

"How did this happen?" she asked with a bright smile. She was delighted.

Becker smiled and nodded towards Connor. "I had a hacker who spied on your toga order."

Connor smiled at Jess. "I know, it was wrong to hack you, but I thought you'd forgive me under the circumstances. Isn't it sweet, Action Man wanting to match you? Awww..."

"Shut up Temple," said Becker. He turned his attention to Jess and said, "So, how do I look?" He held out his arms, and did a slow turn for her.

Before she could answer, there were a bevy of whistles, claps, and shouts of "Woo hoo!" behind her. She turned and saw about ten young women, mostly techs all staring at Becker with practically drooling lips. Jess was not amused.

Becker blushed. Connor grinned and said, "You have a fan club."

Jess turned a shade of red, and she frowned, but when an arm appeared in front of her, offering her an escort she looked up to see Becker's gorgeous eyes completely trained on her.

"May I, my goddess?" he said.

Jess practically melted on the spot. She took his arm and said, "Yes, of course. Let's find some ouzo," she said. As they walked past more women, staring at the Captain's legs, she added, "and hurry."

Becker just laughed. "Now you know how I sometimes feel when guys stare at you and your short skirts."

"Really?" she asked. "Well, I apologize. It feels awful."

Becker chuckled. "Comes with the territory of having knockout legs, I guess."

Jess giggled. "How is it that you always find a way to make me feel better?"

Becker smiled at her. "I have to," he said. "I'm addicted to that smile and that giggle," he said.

She stared at him with adoration. "You've already had some ouzo, haven't you?"

Becker laughed. "Guilty. Bernie called me, Matt, and Lester when it came in earlier today, and well, we had to sample it, to make sure it met with Miss Parker's expectations."

"And does it?"

"Oh, yeah. That's good stuff."

Jess giggled. "We may need a whole host of designated drivers."

"Already taken care of, and they aren't happy."

"Who'd you get?"

"The slowpoke soldiers in the 10K run this morning, the tardy ARC staffers of the last week, and a few menagerie workers who made Lester mad by not taking appropriate care of the mammoth. They forgot its favorite snack two days in a row."

"Lester's got a sick obsession with that thing, I swear," said Jess. Becker nodded.

They came to a table, secluded toward the back of the canteen, and Becker held out the chair for Jess. Soon, a toga-wearing Chef Bernard Rice hustled over.

"Welcome," he said. "Here is some ouzo, please Miss Parker, it's dangerous. Go easy. May I start you off with some appetizers? I have stuffed grape leaves, which is a classic, popular dish from the Greek Islands. I stuffed them with the traditional stuffing of rice, pine nuts, and classic Greek spices."

"We also have some of Greece's famous olives. And, to finish the appetizers, something lighter and a bit sweet, simple fresh figs. Enjoy, but save room for the main courses. Captain, I need your help. People must eat if they drink the ouzo. I'm serious, someone is going to end up in medical."

Becker laughed. "OK, I'll get Thompson and Carly on ouzo duty. They'll love it, actually."

Jess laughed, and said, "Did you actually get Carly in a toga?"

"Are you kidding?" asked Becker. "Wait until you see him. I didn't even know they made 'guns of the world' sheets."

Becker left to give orders to Carlson and Thompson.

"I hope he specifies that 'ouzo duty' does not entail drinking themselves silly," said Bernie.

Jess smile. "Don't worry, Bernie. The captain is very sensible and practical. He'll keep everyone safe, even if it's from ouzo this time and not dinosaurs."

Bernie smiled. "Are you alright, Miss Parker?"

Jess sighed. "I'm a little disappointed in the frat-night togas, Bernie. I should have known no one else would buy a real toga, or at least a real costume toga. We have a lot of cheap people here, Bernie."

Bernie smiled. "I think it's more about personalities, Miss. For example, do you not love my chili pepper toga?"

Jess looked closely at the chef's pale yellow sheet-toga, with red chili peppers all over it and the words, 'hot stuff.' "Yes, I do Bernie. You're right too, these are a lot more expressive."

"Not that yours isn't, Miss Parker. You are the picture of fashion sense and style, as always. It is very appropriate for you. The Captain, well, I can't help but notice how his toga complements yours. Again, very personality-appropriate," Bernie said with a wink.

Jess blushed. It had been incredibly sweet for Becker to go to all that trouble. She had been worried, frankly that he wouldn't wear a toga at all, and to go all out like this said a lot about him, and how much he cared for her.

Becker stomped across the canteen like he was trying to crush grapes.

"What's wrong?" asked Jess.

"Nothing."

"Becker?"

"Honestly, Jess. Nothing is wrong. Everything is great. Let's just enjoy ourselves."

Jess heard some snickers and guffaws, and looked up to see a small mass of men, including Connor, Matt, Sargent Carlson, and a few other techs and soldiers.

"What's going on?" she asked. "Are they teasing you?"

"No," said Becker. "Not exactly."

Jess looked to the men, Carly was indeed wearing a toga with guns of the world depicted on it, Matt's toga appeared to be made from a leaves sheet and there were several other printed sheet togas, including, thought Jess, a Scooby-Doo. They had no reason to tease Becker.

Matt started to laugh. "It's OK Jess, we're sorry. We'll stop."

"I apologize, sir. Miss Parker, you look lovely," said Carly. Then he added, "Connor started it."

The men all laughed, and Connor turned to Carly and said, "traitor."

"Started what?" asked Jess.

Becker growled and everyone but Matt and Connor disappeared.

Connor said weakly, "All I did was ask if Becker had anything on underneath."

"And tried to check," said Matt with a grin.

Jess' eyes widened. "You tried to … Connor! There will be no toga-peeking this evening!"

"Oh, of course not, Jess. On my honor. Besides, I couldn't tell," said Connor. "Becker jumped back too fast."

Jess giggled, Matt laughed, Becker growled, and Connor ran. Jess reached out and pulled Becker back down to the table. He ate some olives, and calmed down a bit.

Jess demurely ate a stuffed grape leaf, and then finally got the nerve to ask, "Are you wearing anything underneath?"

Becker looked at her, and she returned his gaze.

"Are you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not telling," she said.

He smirked. "Neither am I."

They stared at each other, rather lustfully, and then broke out in laughter.

"Well, one thing about Toga Night, Jess, it sure breaks the ice."

She laughed. "It does."

"May I have your attention please," said Carly out loud. "Come on people, don't make me shoot off one of my hundreds of guns." Everyone laughed, except Carlson. He, the weapons expert at the ARC was very serious about firearms. "OK, thanks. Now, Bernie, I mean Chef Rice is going to share the menu with us."

"Now, really, I know we all love the ouzo, but seriously, people. You have to eat. This stuff will land you on your keister faster than a semi-automatic. So, the medics beg you to be sensible, go easy, and fill your stomachs before you tie one on, Ok? Yeah, wise-guy that is an order."

Becker couldn't see who was mouthing off to Carly, but he knew it was a mistake to take the forty-something, slightly pudgy, easy-going Carlson too lightly.

Bernie stood up on a table, hoisted up by Carly, and began the menu.

"I've outdone myself. I'm not going to be humble. This is brilliant, brilliant stuff tonight. Ok, first the gyros, the traditional Greek sandwiches. Ours our made with slow roasted lamb, tzatziki—a cucumber dip made with real Greek olive oil, yogurt, and cucumbers, then we added onions and tomatoes and filled pita bread with it all."

"Really, mmm, good, Bernie," said Abby, through mouthfuls of an gyro.

He smiled. "Moussaka, anyone?"

There was a round of applause.

"Yes, everyone knows moussaka. We made ours with fresh eggplant of course, fresh Parmesan cheese and we have one with ground lamb, and one that is strictly vegetarian, using potatoes, chickpeas, and zucchini with the eggplant."

"We had to make pastitsio, sticking fairly traditional to the recipe. We have the tubal Greek pasta, a traditional Greek cheese, the traditional spices of nutmeg, allspice, and cinnamon, olive oil, fresh herbs, and this time we used a lean ground beef. It is all layered together and it is..."

"Delicious," said Emily, fighting with Matt over the remaining pastitsio on the plate in front of them.

"How'd they get the food already? Bernie, are you playing favorites with the ladies?" asked Lester. "I'm the boss, play favorites with me."

"You don't look as good in your toga as Miss Emily and Miss Abby, sir," said Bernie.

Lester's toga was hastily made by Abby. She would not let him in the canteen that evening without draping a sheet, an adorable naked cherub sheet that is, around his suit. He even left his suit jacket on! He looked fairly ridiculous, however he was in a toga. Mission completed.

As for Abby, she wore a purple, guitar-printed sheet toga, with the words "rocker chick," written across in black. She clearly wore something underneath, black leggings, and short purple combat boots.

Emily, ever the fashionable lady, appeared to be wearing an actual toga, not a sheet. It was long, luxurious, and in crisp white bordered with gold edges. She too, had a drape, this one in simple white, down her back. She wore her hair tied back in a simple ponytail, but tied with golden cord.

Since Matt and Emily sat nearby, Jess could see Matt's toga quite well. His was, as Jess had thought, a leaves sheet, actually autumn leaves. She could clearly see red, green and yellow leaves along the thick red border. He clearly wore jeans and a light blue shirt under his toga.

Jess realized that Bernie and Lester were still talking across the room.

"True, the ladies look very pretty, and I do not do pretty," said Lester. "Carry on, Chef."

"Yes, sir. Now, we also have some fresh salads made with olives, feta cheese, and yogurt. Of course, they are drizzled with olive oil. We also have fresh spinach, paired with cucumbers, cheese, and figs. In Greece they sometimes pick greens growing wild. I didn't feel like doing that."

People laughed at the idea of picking wild greens in downtown London.

"We have several dips for you: along with the tzatziki, we have a garlic, yogurt dip, an eggplant dip, and a feta cheese dip. We have lots of pita bread chips to use, as well as fresh vegetables. Finally, for dessert, what else but fresh, hot baklava? Please enjoy, and behave yourselves."

The service was a mixture of self-serve, cafeteria-line, and table service. Jess and Becker were lucky, and sous-chef Ryan, decked out in a Top Gear sheet toga, served them at their table. Jess dug in to the moussaka while Becker ate several gyros. Jess followed the moussaka by trying one of the fresh salads. Becker ate more gyros. Finally, Jess was ready for the baklava, but Becker grabbed the plate.

"Becker? Don't hog the baklava. You know," she said, staring at his smirk. "I thought you were smarter than to get between me and a plate of sweets."

Becker laughed. "Good point, that is more dangerous than being between a t-Rex and his prey."

"It is," she agreed. "Now, hand over the baklava, and I promise I won't hurt you."

Becker smirked again, got a cheeky grin on his face, and put down the plate. Then he picked up one piece of baklava, and reached across the table, holding it gently towards her mouth.

Jess looked at him, blushed, and took a bite. He watched her chew and swallow it. She nodded to the plate, and he passed it to her. She looked at him, picked up a piece of baklava, and she reached across to feed it to him. He smiled, and took a bite.

Across the room, Bernie and Ryan were grinning.

"What are you two so happy about?" asked the rocker chick, Abby.

Ryan pointed at Jess and Becker.

"That is so sweet," she said. "Maybe a little too sweet. Bernie, may I have some ouzo, please?"

Bernie opened his mouth, but Abby spoke instead. "Yes, I've eaten, and yes, I'll be careful, and no I'm not planning on driving. OK?"

Ryan smiled, and Bernie nodded, giving her a bottle. Abby joined Connor, who were joined by Matt, Emily, and Carly. Abby began dispersing the ouzo.

Over at the back table, Becker had scooted his seat closer to Jess, cleverly blocking them from the view of the others in the room.

Jess smiled as he took her hand. "I hope this isn't the ouzo."

"It's not completely the ouzo. Sure, with the ouzo I'm a little more...loose. You may not have noticed, but I tend to be a little wound up."

Jess laughed. "No, I hadn't noticed at all."

Becker took her hand and brought it up to his lips and kissed it. "You will let me know if I get too loose for you?"

"I'm sorry, Captain, but I can't promise I will. I've been indulging in the ouzo myself."

He smiled. She watched as he kissed down her hand and arm, and she leaned over to make her shoulder and neck available, should he feel like continuing.

He did. Since her hair was up, he had full range of her pretty, vanilla-scented neck, and he took advantage of it.

Jess giggled as he kissed and nibbled. "I'm sorry, but I'm very, very ticklish."

Becker removed his head from her neck and looked at her. His eyebrow shot up and he said, "Really? That's dangerous information Miss Parker. You really shouldn't let that loose."

Jess giggled more, and Becker thought he had never heard a sweeter sound.

"I think I ..."

"What?" asked Jess. "You think you what?"

Becker shook his head and chuckled. "Talk about dangerous information."

Jess sat, looking at him. "Becker, what were you going to say?"

Becker blushed. "I was going to say that I think I... I think I...lov..."

Suddenly Jess put a finger to his lips. "No. I'm sorry. Don't. Don't say it if you aren't completely sure that it's not the ouzo. Even if you are, don't say it, because I won't be sure it's not completely the ouzo."

Becker chuckled. "Ok, then how about this. The ouzo may be making me think that I love you."

She gasped. He added quickly. "And there's no one else in the world that the ouzo might have me in love with."

Jess burst out laughing. "I'm not sure that's a complement. I'm too ouzo-ed myself to tell," she said, giggling.

Becker looked happy, and maybe a little buzzed. "You don't seem mad."

"No I'm not mad," she said. "I think I may be ouzo in love with you too."

Becker laughed, and she laughed. Then he leaned in, and she leaned in, and they kissed.

"Oh, no," said Chef Bernie, across the room. "It's Japanese Night all over again."

He jumped over the counter, a fifty year-old, 250 pound man who loved eating and had a phobia of exercising, actually jumped over a thigh-high counter.

"Damn," muttered Ryan, looking at an ouzo bottle, "this stuff needs a warning label."

Bernie walked swiftly and with a purpose, to the table of Becker and Miss Parker.

"Alright, you two. I'm assailing yourself a chaperone."

Becker and Jess giggled. "You mean you're assigning yourself chaperone, right, Bernie?" asked an amused Becker.

Bernie thought a moment, and said, "Yes."

"How much have you had to drink?" asked Jess.

Bernie shook his head, "N-not much. A bottle of ouzo. Some cooking cherry while I marinated lamb. Lots of lamb, lots of marinade."

"Lots of sherry," offered Becker.

"Then I had a sip or four of champagne with the boss, toasting the arrival of the ouzo."

"Bernie, sit down, please," said Jess, getting up and pushing Bernie gently into her seat. "Have YOU had anything to eat?"

Bernie thought. He couldn't remember, so Becker went to Ryan and the two of them came back with gyros, moussaka, and lots of pita bread. Becker also had some black coffee with him.

"I'll call his sister," said Ryan. "She knows about tonight, and she personally asked me to watch him. She said she'd drive us both home, and anyone else who needs a ride."

"Good," said Becker. "Please thank her, repeatedly. I think we'll wrap a couple more people up and send them home with you."

Ryan went to make the calls. Jess summoned the designated, grumpy drivers. To be fair, though, they had been driven home on Japanese night, so it was their turn. Becker started determining who could drive, and who couldn't.

"You want me to do what, sir?" asked Thompson.

"You heard me, soldier. Do it or your not driving yourself home."

"Very well. One, two... buckle my shoe. Three, four...shut the door...five, six...pick up sticks...seven eight...shut the gate...nine, ten...home again."

"Passable. Now, walk in a straight line."

Jess giggled as Becker put the whole canteen through sobriety tests. It would have taken forever, so the few who passed, were enlisted to put others through similar tests.

Abby and Connor were clearly smashed. They were giggling in heaps on the floor. Emily, who didn't care for the taste of ouzo was one of the test administrators.

"I said to please repeat the alphabet, Epstein."

Epstein began to giggle. "You sure are pretty."

Emily rolled her eyes. "I have another 'failed,' Becker," she said.

"Right. Jess?"

Jess smiled and walked up to collect Epstein and put him back at the tables with the other 'failed' people.

"We're never going to get everyone home," said Jess.

"Would you trust me," said Becker with a wink.

A soldier walked in. "Ready sir. The buses are gassed up and outside."

"Buses?" asked Jess.

"Here are the addresses for this lot," said Becker, handing the soldier a notebook with Jess' girly writing in purple ink. "Remember, to the door. Unlock the doors if you have to, but get them all inside. Then they're on their own."

The soldier nodded, but looked back. "Sir?"

"Yes, yes, I promised didn't I?"

The soldier nodded and began escorting the inebriated out.

"What did you promise?" asked Jess, leaning on Becker's shoulder.

"I promised every one of the drivers that on their next day off, I'd personally hand them each a bottle ouzo."

Jess laughed. "The ARC sure takes care of its staff."

He laughed.

About an hour later, everyone was gone. Even with Bernie indisposed, the kitchen staff was on its toes. They put away the leftovers, cleaned up all the dishes and had the canteen ready for tomorrow. Now, only Kim, the second ranked sous-chef was left.

"Kim, we're heading out. The security officers are aware you're here by yourself. Do not leave the building without one of them escorting you out," said Becker.

"Yes, sir," said the petite brunette. "Thank you. Goodnight. Goodnight, Miss Parker."

"Goodnight, Kim," said Jess.

"I'll drive you home," said Becker.

"I don't think so," answered Jess.

Becker turned around. "What?"

Jess smirked. "I need you to pass a sobriety test too, Captain."

Becker laughed. "Fair enough. Go ahead."

Jess smiled. Then she couldn't think of anything.

Becker stood there, waiting, and chuckled.

"Quiet," she said. "Ok, um, arms straight out, no, I meant in front of you. Ok. Now, arms to the side. Not at your side, but straight up, um at your side. Stop laughing at me. Close your eyes, and touch your nose. Very good. You have remarkable coordination, Captain."

"Can I open my eyes, now?" he said, returning both his arms to the front, parallel to each other.

"Not yet," she said, slipping between the outstretched arms, she tiptoed up and kissed his lips.

"I like this sobriety test," he said, opening his eyes, and catching her in his arms. "Now, can I take you home?"

"Sure," she said. "One more thing though."

"What?"

"What's underneath your toga?" she asked slyly.

He smirked. "Show me yours and I'll show you mine."

The End