Author's Note: A little story that popped into my head. Jennifer runs into someone she used to know, and he's causing all kinds of problems. But the simple things are going to get a lot worse before they get better. :) Definitely some Ronon/Keller steaminess, and a healthy does of Evan Lorne for good measure. :P

PROLOGUE

YEARS EARLIER (EARTH)

"Come on, Jenny-bean. Where's your sense of adventure?"

"It left hours ago with the last of the evacuees." Jennifer muttered to herself, quickly snapping the case closed.

She hunched her shoulders at the annoying nickname he insisted on using. At least the other volunteers were kind enough to call her by her name – her real name - but some how, this guy just couldn't take the hint.

Jen was very, very glad the evacuation orders had finally been called. They'd done everything they could and now it was time to leave.

A contingent of local police, firefighters, and volunteers had finally finished evacuating several mountain villages, under the warning that the top half of 'mud mountain' - as the national media dubbed it - was about to collapse and 'wipe them off the map'.

Logging companies had clear cut the mountain with such perfection there was nothing left to hold back the surface from the small hamlets dotted along the slopes below. Days of rain had all but destroyed any chance there was of the mountain remaining solid.

Several smaller mudslides had toppled a few of the outlying houses, and Jen had volunteered to help treat the injured. Everyone was now sewn, set, bandaged and evac'd, so the impromptu first-aid station was quickly being dismantled.

Brandon Hoyle grinned and accepted the closed case she held out to him, his fingers lingering on hers just a little too long.

Jen frowned and pulled her hand back, turning her attention to packing up the last of the supplies, blaming no one but herself for her current, uncomfortable, predicament.

When she'd been told there was fresh blood coming – volunteers – she'd readily jumped at the chance to have an extra set of hands. Then she'd seen him… and oh boy, the guy was more sexy in person than on screen - Hollywood action hero Brandon Hoyle. All the women did a double take, and even her little used libido sat up and said helloooo.

She'd certainly not been one to turn down an extra set of hands.

If only his hands were there to help her for medicinal reasons.

Unfortunately for her, Brandon Hoyle was not only good looking… he knew it, and played it to his full advantage. And while she'd quickly learned that little fact – she'd also learned it way to late in the game to make a difference.

Because Brandon Hoyle had a nasty case of the grabies.

No matter what she needed done, he found a way to have to touch her to do it. Handing her a box of bandages – rub her arm. Moving equipment, brush up against her backside. Sliding paperwork across the table, slip a hand across her chest. And from what she could tell – he did it with every woman – volunteer or patient – and much to Jen's disgust, it earned him school girl giggles and blushes from said women, and disgusted glares or awe-inspired stares from the men.

It was driving her to distraction with such fervor she'd put a tensor bandage on the patient's wrist instead of foot, handed the mother the lolly-pop and the 3 year old the bottle of antibiotics, and tried to give an EMP technician the tetanus shot instead of the man with the jagged cut on the bottom of his foot.

So she'd attempted to pass him off on several other volunteers and doctors, but the men had seen what she was up against and insisted they were just fine. No help needed, thank you very much. The women, of course, said yes… but Brandon insisted he was perfectly happy where he was.

Yay for Jen.

So after two days of nonstop rain, and nonstop Brandon, Jen was ready to walk out and let the mud slide bury her.

Then, at least she'd be at peace.

Okay sure, if she had to admit it out loud, Brandon Hoyle might have been one hell of a catch. He was insanely rich - his father a billionaire media mogul and soon to be US Senator. He had a gorgeously hard surfer body, and a Hollywood smile that could to turn her to jelly whenever she'd see him on screen. She used to imagine herself on the screen – the hapless heroine, rescued by the super spy, or the rough edged detective, or the bad-boy biker… and the spectacular kiss he'd give her as he whisked her away from the bad guys… professing his undying love as they flew/drove/rode off into the sunset.

But now, now that she'd met him, she just couldn't bring herself to consider anything more than the insane urge to run away screaming.

There was desperate, and then there was desperate.

And something about Brandon Hoyle made her stomach curdle.

Jen had enough problems to deal with on a daily basis, she didn't need anything from an over zealous playboy. It was bad enough most people took one look at her and decided she was too small and weak to function and therefore needed a babysitter every time she was working, she didn't need the added headache of a full-of-himself rescue-hero thinking she also needed to get laid.

By him.

Of course, the more she turned him down, the more he tried. The poor guy had probably never had a woman say no before. It was liberating. And frustrating as hell.

When his arm slid around her shoulders, she jumped out of her distracted thoughts and stepped to the side with an exasperated sigh. She pointed to an open box of small glass vials on the table in front of her. "Those…" She swung her finger to a large carrying case. "Go in there."

Hoyle nodded and moved beside her, purposely brushing his arm against the side of her breast. When she rolled her eyes and stepped away, he slid her a knowing grin and a wink, and continued to pack up.

Jen concentrated on getting the last of the smaller supplies into their cases. Once done, she stepped away and quickly folded up the last pair of cots.

When she turned back she bumped right into him, sighing when his hands grabbed her arms to steady her from a fall she wasn't about to take.

Jen rolled her eyes and looked up. "That's everything. We can go now."

"You sure that's… everything? Jenny-bean?"

"Please don't call me that."

"There's… nothing… else you need?" He gave her what was a very practiced honey-you-want-me-you-just-don't-know-it-yet smile and rubbed his hands suggestively up her arms.

"Mr. Hoyle, I'm pretty sure this is what could be considered inappropriate behavior."

"You're going to blame me for stealing a kiss?"

"A ki-"

He jammed his mouth over hers.

Jen blinked in surprise, her brainwaves shocked into momentary silence before they finally returned and she ripped her head back.

"Let's go, people!" A voice yelled from outside the tent. "We gotta move! The mountain's starting to collapse!"

Before Jen could say "back off" Brandon Hoyle's playboy persona disappeared and was instantly replaced with a look of pure insanity. He shoved Jen hard enough to drop her onto her tailbone and disappeared through the tent flaps into the rain.

Jen sighed.

Well if that's all it took…

If only that was the last she'd see of him.