"Tah-dah!" Rodney thunked a large silver container onto the desk in front of John.
John put down the floor plan he was reviewing and eyed the cylindrical tube. He lifted it off the desk, feeling the solid weight in his hands. "This is the replacement?"
Rodney rolled his eyes and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "And people say you're not observant. It's as good as it's going to get with absolutely no lead time and nothing to work with but a Coleman thermos and an alarm clock."
"Coleman thermos?" John raised an eyebrow.
Rodney nodded. "Had to get the cylinder somewhere. Wrapped it in sheet metal and capped it with-"
John pointed to the digital read out on the top. "The alarm clock?"
"Wow. That's quite the leap."
John fiddled with the top.
"Don't open it!" Rodney slapped his hand and snatched the cylinder back. "You'll let all the ball bearings out."
"Ball bearings?" John frowned.
"Had to fill it with something heavy." Rodney stepped back and cradled the fake containment unit.
"Do we have the location original?" John asked.
Rodney shook his head. "Marks says he's picking up the power unit in the general area, but he's having a difficult time narrowing it down with the handheld. You know it would be much faster if-"
"McKay, you're not going to the party."
"But I-"
"No." John frowned. "I need you here. Marks used to work with SG-8. He knows what he's doing."
"Fine." Rodney scowled.
They stared at each other in silence.
"Well?" John looked at him expectantly.
"Well what?"
"Can you help Marks narrow it down?"
Rodney sighed and waved his free hand in the air. "Of course. Just a simple tweak to the scanner." He stepped forward, eyeing the floor plans spread out in front of the Colonel.
John raised his eyebrow and stared at the scientist.
"What?" Rodney looked up and frowned.
John shook his head, and pointed to the container. "Fix the scanner, and get that to Marks."
"Right." Rodney nodded, then snapped his fingers. "You know I could personally see to it-"
"McKay!" John warned.
"Fine." Rodney sighed, turning away. "Always the bridesmaid never the bride. But next time I get to go to the party."
"I'm sure Lorne would love to have married you, too!" John laughed.
Rodney flipped his middle finger up over his shoulder and disappeared into the hallway.
Evan wasn't quite sure exactly when it happened, but at some point between their arrival in the limo, and the start of the dinner, he'd completely lost track of every ounce of training he'd ever been given in regards to watching a crowd.
He should be paying attention to the room.
He should be watching for Franks.
He should be confirming layouts and door placements in relation to the floor plans he'd memorized.
He should be doing a dozen different things.
But he wasn't.
Because he hadn't stopped moving from the moment they'd walked out the door of their hotel suite.
They minute they'd stepped into the limo outside their hotel, she'd been a kid in a candy shop. Everything was to be explored. Buttons to push. Sky roof to open. She turned on the television just to make sure it worked. Opened the bar to see what was inside. Raised and lowered the screen between the front and the back, much to the amusement of their IOA driver. She had Evan laughing so hard at her insistence on checking out absolutely everything, his sides ached.
Then, when they'd arrived at the art gallery, he'd made the wonderful mistake of reaching for her hand to help her out of the car and she hadn't let go.
He lead her up the massive flight of stairs from the street into the main gallery, stopping a half-dozen times against the pull of her hand as she paused to look at the lights of the city, the building, the architecture, the spotlights, the security guards, the line of limos waiting to let out their passengers.
In the lobby, she'd dragged him around the gigantic marble fountain, stealing a quarter to kiss and throw in with a wish. She stared at the domed ceiling while she nearly walked into just about everyone until he finally made her agree to stop walking while she was looking up. They listened to the pianist playing on the baby grand, climbed to the balcony on the upper floor so she could see out over the city, then she pulled him back down to the main floor to explore further. They studied paintings, looked at sculptures, and read about some of the artifacts situated in the concourse.
By the time the doors opened to allow everyone into the main dining room an houre later, Evan figured he'd walked several miles, climbed a dozen flights of stairs, and had laughed more in one night than he had in months.
Jen gaped and followed Evan into the grand ballroom, her hand in his, letting him lead her forward. She heard his laughter and looked away from the giant orchid that was growing up the wall.
"What?" She smiled, letting him guide her towards the side, out of the way of the incoming crowd.
"You're going to give yourself whiplash." He grinned, turning towards her.
She laughed, and squeezed his upper arm, glancing quickly up at the massive flower over her head. "Sorry, is it that obvious?"
"Obvious that you can't keep your hands off me, wife?" He teased, looking down to where she was still holding his arm.
"You wish, husband." She snorted, and wacked him across the chest with her clutch purse. "Maybe if you weren't such an absentee spouse, I wouldn't be so desperate for a little contact."
"Absentee spouse." He raised an eyebrow.
Jen sighed, and shook her head with mock sadness, twirling a lock of loose hanging hair around her finger. "Too busy working all the time to notice your poor wife, sitting at home… all alone."
"How else can I afford to keep you?" He made a face. "Spending all my hard earned money on shoes."
"I like shoes." She said defiantly. "Especially the boots."
"Boots." Evan angled his head.
Jen nodded and leaned closer. "Black leather. Stiletto heels." She pursed her lips. "You get the idea."
"Whoo." Evan exhaled. "Remind me I need to come home more often."
Jen laughed, and shook her head towards the quickly filling room. "Come on Mr. Lorne. Lets find our table."
"As you wish, Mrs. Lorne." Evan reached for her hand again and she quickly threaded her fingers through his.
He turned to lead her through the sea of tables and chairs, looking for the centerpiece with the number 39 – their table. They found it near the back, close enough to the bar they could clearly see Ryan.
An older couple was already seated, and introductions were quickly made. Jen almost laughed aloud when Evan introduced her as his wife, but then quickly stuttered because she was supposed to be his wife.
The older woman, Marjory, was a retired history professor. Her husband George, a lawyer. They'd come to the gala in support of their son, who was a doctor working for the UN efforts in Afghanistan. Jen immediately felt a connection to the older couple and the conversation easily followed. A second couple joined a few moments later, and introduced themselves as Thomas and Caroline Shoe, both investment bankers. The fourth couple, Sarah and Elson Dyson, came last. Sarah was a real-estate broker, and Elson was VP of technology at a large software firm. The introductions made, everyone settled into polite small talk.
After a few minutes, Jen noticed Evan's mental withdrawal, and immediately turned to see what had his attention. He was staring at a table two spots over. Her fingers tightened against his upper arm, and her breath caught.
Michael Franks.
She looked quickly away.
Evan turned back towards their table, angling his head so he could whisper in her ear. "Relax. He's not going to try anything here. He wants to have a quiet evening just like the rest of us."
Jen nodded, but couldn't stop her heart from beating just a little bit faster. With her hands in her lap, she gripped the tiny clutch purse and stared at the place setting in front of her, trying to remember that she was supposed to be having fun. With a killer two tables over.
"Hey." Evan whispered.
She looked up, glancing quickly past him to where Marks was holding the chair out for the lithe model who come draped over his arm. Jen looked back at Evan, who was watching her intently.
"Nothing's going to happen." He said softly. "Okay?"
She tried to smile, but wasn't sure if she was succeeding. "Okay."
"I promise."
"Okay." She nodded again.
A few moments later she wriggled in her chair, her bladder winning the argument. She leaned towards Evan. "I have to find the ladies room." She whispered.
He nodded and stood up, pulling her chair out for her.
Jen rose. "I'll be right back."
"You want me to come with you?" He offered.
She shook her head and smiled. "It's called the ladies room for a reason."
Evan hesitated, not sure if he should insist.
Jen pointed to the grand staircase in the corner, which lead up to a second floor balcony overlooking the ballroom. "It's right up there. I'll be five minutes, tops."
"The day a woman takes only five minutes in a bathroom is the day hell freezes over." The older man, George, said with a laugh, earning him a good-natured glower from his wife, Marjory.
Jen smiled, and looked at Evan, who finally nodded.
"Five minutes." He said softly.
Jen laughed, and turned to weave her way through the tables. Evan took a moment to sit, not missing the heads turning as she passed, nor the man who nearly tripped on the stairs as she climbed, hips swaying under the press of blue silk. Evan almost groaned as she moved up the steps.
"Son," George laughed. "You've got it bad."
"Bad?" Evan tore his gaze away from Jen only once she'd disappeared out of sight around the corner of the stairs. He turned towards George and Marjory.
"Oh George." Marjory laughed. "I still remember when you used to look at me like that." She made a face.
"I still do, my dear." He patted her hand lovingly. "I still do."
"I don't turn heads quite like that anymore." She smiled, a little sadly.
"Oh, I don't know about that." Evan reached across Jen's empty seat and picked up Marjory's hand, raising it to kiss the back of her fingers. "If I wasn't worried George would kick my ass…" He winked suggestively.
Marjory laughed and yanked her hand away. "Oh you're a devil, you are."
Evan grinned and sat back, his eyes moving from the balcony to the stairs and back again, waiting for a flash of blue.
Standing in the powder room off the main bathroom, Jen checked, and double checked her appearance. Not that it mattered, really, it wasn't like she was here on a date or anything… and well, okay maybe she was a little nervous about sitting so close to Franks, but the auction wasn't until after dinner, and Evan was probably right that the man wasn't going to cause any trouble in front of so many witnesses.
But… oh hell.
Who was she kidding.
She was just stalling.
With a shake of her head she stepped out of the bathroom and turned towards the left, momentarily forgetting which direction the stairs were in. Walking forward, she stopped suddenly when a hand wrapped around her upper arm.
She laughed and turned, knowing Evan wouldn't have waited. "I'm sorry, I was just-"
Her smile disappeared and she automatically took a step back.
Director Wilsher.
And he looked absolutely furious.