Author's Note: As promised, a snuggly chapter. But don't worry - the action will come back soon enough. :P - Nika

Jen stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, and lightly cursed General Jack O'Neill for the hundredth time in as many minutes.

It wasn't bad enough Jack managed to convince her it was a good idea to pretend to be married so she and Evan could attend the function as guests, he'd also convinced her it was a good idea they pretend to be married to each other.

She sighed, then started to laugh, because if she had to pretend to get married, the trip to the spa today had been worth it. She hadn't felt this relaxed, this normal, since she'd stepped foot on Atlantis.

Immediately following their meeting, the Lanteans were beamed from the SGC directly to the bridge of the Daedalus. There, Jen left the men behind as she was beamed into a massive hotel suite in downtown Washington. She'd barely had time to blink before two female IOA agents whisked her off to a day at the spa, a dress fitting, and a hair and makeup appointment.

Now, after an entire day of being rubbed, massaged, waxed, relaxed, calmed, mani'd, pedi'd, soaked, and smoothed, Jen was feeling so peaceful she was ready for nap. But after seeing the magic worked by the stylist, she was afraid to do anything to wreck the gorgeous up-do they'd done on her hair. The woman had even accommodated Jen's special request to find a way to include the beautifully ornate, silver hair sticks Teyla had lent her.

The Agents had escorted her back to the suite barely twenty minuts ago. Now all that was left to do, was get dressed, and wait for Evan.

She turned towards the swatch of blue silk hanging on the back of the bathroom door. The dress was absolutely gorgeous. And incredibly expensive. She didn't know a fig about fashion but what she did know, was that it was a masterpiece, and likely worth more than most people's yearly salaries.

Gently removing it from the hanger, she carefully slipped it over her head, marveling at the feel of the crushed silk on her overly smooth skin. She turned left, then right, and eyed herself critically.

Then she laughed and spun in a circle, her bare feet turning easily on the marble floor. She felt… pampered. Pretty. Like a little girl about to go to the ball. Then she snorted. Rediculous.

She was so far out of her element, it had actually stopped bothering her hours ago. She'd decided, somewhere between the cucumber wrap and the foot massage, to just let it be. Tonight was all about pretending to be someone she wasn't, so pretend was what she was going to do. All she had to do was go to dinner, act like she was married to Evan, try not to spill any food on the gorgeous dress, and keep an eye on a cold-blooded killer.

Piece of cake.

A knock sounded at the door and she hesitated, glancing at the clock on the wall. Quarter to six.

Showtime.

Her heart skipped a little staccato beat behind her ribs as she made her way out of the giant bathroom. Because the suite was actually two massive hotel rooms separated by a large common area, Jen had this room to herself, and Evan would be in the other one on the far side of the living area.

She crossed through her bedroom and into the private sitting area, her hand hesitating on the knob that lead into the main room. With a second knock, she took a deep breath, and cracked open the door.

And promptly exhaled.

She blinked twice before her brain figured out exactly how to process what she was seeing.

Evan Lorne, in a tux.

Dear lord the man looked absolutely… Gorgeous. Sexy. Edible.

There was always something to be said for a good-looking man in a well tailored suit… but... whoo.

"Doc?" He blinked, angling his head to see around the door she was hiding behind - well, okay, holding herself up by, would be a better description, because suddenly her knees felt a little less than stable.

The black jacket hugged his broad shoulders and accented his upper arms with such definition that any woman looking was sure to lose the ability to speak. The dark color of the material was a startling contrast to the light blue of his eyes, making them look even more intense, if that was even possible. The crisp white shirt, dark tailored pants, everything fit so perfectly, he looked like he'd been born to wear it. He looked… just... really… really… yummy.

She dug her fingers into the door to keep from reaching out to rub her hands down his arms, over his biceps, across his chest, to see if he was real.

"Everything okay?" He asked slowly.

Jen's eyes moved across his shoulders, arms, torso, legs, then all the way back up again to the slow grin that was spreading across his mouth.

"Wow." She finally whispered. "Evan. You look…"

He grinned and stuck his finger under the collar of the white shirt. "Uncomfortable?"

She shook her head slowly, her completely addled mind struggling to think of an appropriate thing to say, but all she managed was a sigh. "Wow."

Evan laughed. "You dressed? The limo's here."

She blinked, then nodded quickly, taking a deep breath and releasing the door. She stepped back, not quite able to stop staring at him. "I… I just need... shoes. To get my... uh... shoes."

When the door swung away, Evan's smile froze as his eyes dropped. Worried she'd messed up the dress somehow, she followed the direction of his gaze down to her front, but everything was in place. She looked back up and tried to decipher the odd expression on his face.

"What?" She asked quickly. "Is something wrong?"

For the first time in as far back as he could remember, Evan was completely speechless. He knew she would be dressed up. And he understood she'd need something formal to wear, and that formal would mean a dress. Of course. But… he most certainly hadn't expected…

Damn, it was warm in here.

Starting with a narrow band fastened around her neck, blue silk draped down across her front, flowing like a second skin over her body and all the way down to her toes. It hugged, it accented, it slid silently with her hips as she moved. It covered just about everything except her bare shoulders and arms, but it wasn't the skin he could see that was the problem. It was the skin he couldn't see. The promise of what was underneath. Or rather, the promise of what wasn't underneath.

Sometimes leaving things up to the imagination was much… much… worse.

He took a deep, slow breath and held it, willing his brain to start to work again. He concentrated on keeping his eyes above her shoulders, but it wasn't helping much either. Her hair was twisted up onto her head in a mass of golden curls that looked half messy, and half purposeful. Wisps fell down around her face, touching her bare shoulders, making his fingers itch to touch them, too.

"I'll ah… just get my shoes." She said, stepping further back.

He nodded.

Then she turned and the breath he'd been holding left his body with just about every other brain cell. Oh. My. God.

As she backed away, Jen was a little concerned she'd over done it with the dress. Evan looked a little green. Maybe it was too much. She leaned towards the chair in the corner, reaching for the strappy heels that were still in the box, when Evan made an odd gurgling sound.

She turned around, concerned. "Ev?"

He was looking rather… off.

She stepped forward, the ankle straps of the heels dangling from her finger tips. "Are you okay?"

"Is that supposed to be like that?" His voice was a strangled whisper. He cleared his throat.

"What?" She looked down at the shoes.

"Your dress." He tried again. "The back."

Jen turned and tried looking over her shoulder at the backside of the dress, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. "Yeah… that's the style. Why? What's wrong with it?"

Flustered, she ran her hand lightly over the material. Everything looked straight and in its proper place.

Evan tried not to stare. Tried, and failed miserably.

There was absolutely no material on the back side of the dress. None. Nothing except for a strip of cloth that barely covered her bottom, and for all appearances, looked like it was being held together by nothing more than a row of silver fasteners that ran a very accenting line down the center of her cheeks.

Shoulders, spine, the delicate curve of her lower back, all completely exposed, just bare, creamy skin, then a foot wide swatch of blue silk across her bottom before the material disappeared in a high-sided slit running straight up between her legs. Long… long legs. And judging from how low the material dipped down, way, way down, across her lower back, there was absolutely no way in hell the woman could possibly be wearing anything under that dress.

Jen turned back around. "You… you don't like it?"

Evan looked up into her worried face and tried to find the words… word, hell any word. "No." He managed to swallow. "Yes." He corrected. "I mean… it's… won't you be…" Ogled, he wanted to say, but settled for "Cold?"

She took a step forward, then stopped, her hesitation making him regret his inability to remain in control. She gnawed her lower lip before finally speaking.

"I um… kind of want to be cold."

He raised an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes and gave her head a small shake. "When I get nervous I tend to… overheat, and it makes me… queasy. And, well, keeping cool… helps me keep a clear head."

"Nervous." His mind grasped on to her words. Conversation. Conversation was good. Safe. Nice, safe conversation.

She nodded. "Really, really nervous."

"Why? We're just going to dinner."

"Yeah! Dinner with a psychotic arms dealer who controls an army of mercinaries and kills anyone who gets in his way!" Her fingers nervously twirled the shoes in the air beside her hip.

Ah, he thought with a sigh of relief. She was worried about Franks. Good. Well, not good that she was worried. But good that this was a topic he could handle.

"That is exactly why we're not posing as the competition." He said softly. "Look. Rodney's probably already modified the ship's sensors to detect the containment unit. Marks will replace it with a dummy before the auction even begins. All we have to do is eat dinner, place a few non-threatening bids on a couple of items, and keep an eye out for anyone else who's aggressively bidding on our container. Franks isn't going to try anything in the middle of a 300 seat banquet. Nothing is going to happen."

"Then why do I feel like I'm stepping into an episode of Chuck?" She gave an exaggerated shrug. "What if he recognizes us? Whoever stole it could have known we'd figure it out. It's not like we're hiding our identity. We'll be... be... sitting ducks."

"Jen." Evan leaned closer. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"But-"

"I'm not…" He cut her off. "Going to let anything happen to you. Okay?"

She bit the inside of her cheek and stared up at him. After a moment, she took a deep breath, then nodded as she exhaled. "Okay."

He smiled. "Good. Now put your shoes on so we can get downstairs before your limo turns back into a pumpkin."

Jen smiled and shook her head. Balancing on one foot, she placed her hand on his shoulder to steady herself while she slipped on her shoes.

She turned to grab the small clutch purse she'd left on the bed, and Evan was once again was treated to a view of her backside. This time the legs came accented with a pair of silver spiked heels.

"You don't want… a wrap, a coat, something?" He managed to strangle out.

She smiled and turned around. "It's September. Not December. I'll be fine."

It's not you I'm worried about.

"Oh." He dug quickly into the front pocket of his jacket. "I almost forgot." He held out a small black box.

Jen's smile wavered as she stared at the box in his hand. "Is that…"

He cracked it open, more intent to see the look on her face, than the massive diamond solitaire and matching wedding band he knew was in the box. Something in his chest tightened to see how enamored she was with the contents. Her eyes went wide as she stared at the box, her bottom lip firmly trapped between her teeth. She looked up at him, a soft smile touching the corners of her mouth. Then she looked back down at the box, her fingers hovering in the air above the rings.

"Ohmygod." She whispered. "It must have cost a fortune!"

"Luckily, not my fortune." Evan smiled, and pulled the rings out of their silk holder. He tossed the box onto the chair by the door then lifted her hand and slowly slid the rings into place.

Jen stared down at the rings on her finger, turning her hand this way, then that, holding it up in front of her face, then extending her arm out straight. "God. You can probably see this thing from the Daedalus." She muttered, then laughed. "It's… beautiful."

Yes. Beautiful. He thought, the rings forgotten as she smiled brightly at him.

She grabbed for his left hand, and compared his band with hers. "Ooh, they match."

With a deft kick from his sporadically functioning brain, he cleared his throat. "Well, uh, shall we?"

She nodded, and released his fingers.

Evan moved into the living area, the man his Momma raised demanding he stop and hold the door open for her. Then the little voice in his head started yelling at him to go out first so he could avoid standing behind her. He shook his head and almost laughed. There were definitely worse – far, far worse – assignments. He was going to owe O'Neill big time for this - the General could have picked anyone to accompany her. The laughter was suddenly crushed under a shocking flash of jealousy to think of anyone else being able to see her in this dress.

Oh, it was going to be a long, long night.

She stopped in the hallway, and waited while the double French doors closed behind them.

"Mrs. Lorne." He crooked his left elbow out, and she wrapped her fingers around his upper arm.

"Mrs. Lorne?" She raised her eyebrows, stepping beside him down the hallway. "Awfully presumptuous. What if I want to keep my last name?"

"My wife. My name." He commented, his voice dropping a level of it's own volition.

"Well, that's very alpha-male." She pretended to scowl, but ended up laughing instead. "Fine. Mrs. Lorne it is."

Waiting for the elevator, Evan tried to come up with something to concentrate on other than the way her hand felt on his arm. He found himself staring at the carved silver sticks that appeared to be holding up her hair. "Those are… interesting."

He groaned internally. Wow that sounded intelligent.

Jen smiled. "Teyla lent them to me." She turned her face away so he could get a better look.

"Teyla?" Evan leaned closer, fighting ignore the light scent of flowers and vanilla that surrounded her. "So, they're Athosian?"

Jen laughed. "And deadly."

Evan started to smile when he realized the silver points on the end weren't just pointed for show. They were incredibly sharp, and probably very dangerous. "Knives?"

Jen nodded and grinned slyly. "Teyla said they were for… how did she put it? In the event I should require something… sharp."

Evan laughed as the elevator doors slid open. Guiding her inside, he pushed the button for the lobby, and stared at his… their… entwined reflection in the mirrored doors.

"You're staring again." He glanced sideways at her, smiling to see her face coloring with a heated flush.

"Sorry." She shook her head and smiled. "You just look… really… good… in a tux. Very super-spy."

Evan grinned and rolled his eyes. "Ah yes. Every girl wants to marry the secret agent."

Jen pursed her lips and shook her head, her fingers tightening around his arm as she leaned closer to whisper conspiratorially. "Actually, I'm pretty sure every girl wants to marry a pirate."

"A pirate."

"Yep."

Evan blinked. "Really?"

She nodded.

"Every girl wants to marry a pirate." He repeated with a knowing nod.

She nodded again.

As the floor numbers dropped into the single digits, he leaned closer and growled in her ear. "Arrrrrg."

Jen was laughing so hard when the doors opened, Evan had to hold her arm to keep her from stumbling into the massive potted fern standing outside the bank of elevators. She now had both her hands around his left arm as she staggered along beside him, her laughter echoing through the lobby.

He didn't mind the added contact, or the knowing looks he was getting from the concierge and the staff behind the counter.

They were supposed to be having a good time.

After all, they'd just gotten married.