"What the hell was that little stunt about this morning?" Wilsher growled menacingly, pulling Jen around the corner and into an alcove.

She tried to dig in her heels, but only succeeded in stumbling into him. "Let go of me." She ordered.

"Not until we finish our little chat." He scowled.

"Oh. Okay. Well, I'm finished."

He showed his teeth. "I'm not."

"Director Wilsher. If you want to talk, use a phone." She said quickly. "If you want to file a complaint, there's a proper procedure in place. Now let go of me." She tried to pull her arm free, but he held tightly, pushing her back against the wall. Her bare back felt cold tile and she shivered.

Wilsher released her arm then blocked her in. He leaned down, his face inches from hers.

Jen held her breath. She knew he was going for the intimidation factor – his size versus hers. Hell, just about everyone was bigger than she was. But what she didn't want to admit was that quickly increasing heartbeat was telling her his intimidation tact was succeeding.

"You're off this assignment." He ordered.

"I… what?" She shook her head. "No. We need that container back."

"There's enough men her to take care of finding the damn container." He glared. "You and your pretty party dress are going to high-tail it back to the SGC."

"I'm not going anywhere." Jen glared back and tried to look… bitchy.

"I don't appreciate your attitude, young lady." He snapped. "I gave you a direct order. You have no authority here. You're not the CMO of anything in this galaxy. I brought you here and I can damn well send you home."

"No you can't." Jen blinked.

"I can't?"

"I don't report to you."

He glared, his voice dropping. "You leave, or I'll make you leave."

Jen swallowed hard, deciding retreat was really the best option. "Okay, leaving now." She exhaled, and tried to push past him. He didn't move and she only succeeded in bumping into him. She stepped back and tried to glare.

Wilsher laughed, low and hard. "Oh, don't think for a minute I don't know what's going on in that pretty little head of yours. All that women's lib crap. You come waltzing in and try to tell me how to run my mission. Bringing your people in to show me up. I know how it works, sweetie, and this time, it ain't working. You may have O'Neill eating out of the palm of your hand, but I'm not that gullible."

Jen frowned, forcing herself to look him in the face. "What are you talking about?"

At the meeting this morning, she'd known he was pissed off at her, but this was a little far and beyond.

The agents who'd helped her get ready for the party had both told her the man had serious issues with women in general, and more importantly, issues with women in any kind of position of power. They'd warned her to avoid him at all costs, but Jen didn't really believe the man was anything more than verbal bluster. She'd come up against dozens like him over the years, and each one was all bark and no bite. Men who were so personally affronted by a woman who could do their job just as well, if not better, that they tried to push back, make them quit, or force them into resigning. They'd scare you into thinking you had no other course of action than to leave and let them have whatever prize it was they thought you wanted to take from them.

She recognized the signs, but she had absolutely no idea what it was Wilsher thought she was trying to do.

She turned her head away when he leaned even closer and hissed in her ear. "A case like this could make or break a career, sweetheart. And it is a career I plan to ride all the way to the top. I will not stand idly by and let some skirt think she can get the better of me. I don't care who your friends are. I do not tolerate anyone trying to make me look like an idiot."

"You're doing just fine with that on your own." Jen muttered, flattening both hands against his chest and trying to shove him away, but it was like pushing a wall. A very overweight wall.

He was standing way too far into her personal space and she was beginning to feel the panic rising. Jen argued with herself that it was exactly what he wanted, and if she let it, he'd win. But she was having a harder and harder time keeping it inside. If he didn't move away soon, she was going to have to try and move him away, and oh crap she couldn't remember a damn thing she'd learned from Ronon or Teyla…

Her mind automatically defaulted to her mouth. "Director Wilsher this is completely inappropriate behavior for a member of the IOA. If you don't move out of my way right now, I, I'll-"

"Yes? You'll what?" He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his face back so she could see him while he glared at her. "Cry? Say I accosted you? Scream sexual harassment? Trust me sweetheart, better women than you have tried with far worse accusations and I'm still standing."

"I…what? No. I wasn't…" Jen shook her head, completely shocked at the sudden turn of the conversation. He thought she wanted his job and was going to cry sexual harassment to get it? "That's not what I said… I mean…"

"Although…" He snorted. "You are awfully young to have been appointed Chief Medical Officer without some kind of special service." He inched forward, giving her a disgustingly slow once over. "And you do come very highly recommended. Recommendations that could be interpreted in a variety of different ways… or… positions. Maybe you'd be worth a little disciplinary action…"

Anger and fear shot Jen's hand up without thought, aiming directly for his face but unfortunately, it was precisely what he was expecting her to do. He trapped her hand in one of his beefy paws, and pulled her off balance. She aimed with her left, then realized she was still holding her purse, and with her weight already off balance, she stumbled sideways.

Stupid heels! No one taught her how to throw a punch while wearing four inch spikes, damn it!

Wilsher grabbed her arm and shoved her back, squashing her fingers while sliding his free hand suggestively down her back before pulling her lower body tightly against his.

"Let me go." She hissed, her stomach rolling with the disgusting feel of the man's hand against her bare skin.

Wilsher laughed. "You just accosted me. That's grounds for suspension in my books."

"I did not!"

Wilsher snorted. "Your word against mine, sweetheart."

"Wilsher!" A voice growled from corridor.

Jen's head snapped around, her heart skipping several beats before resuming its panicked drum roll.

Evan.

Relief flowed over her until she got a good look at him and realized just how angry Evan was. He strode around the corner, his hands fisted tightly at his sides. His jaw was clenched to the point of bulging, and his eyes were so dark they were almost black.

Wilsher dropped his hands and stepped back, releasing Jen from her flatted position against the wall. She stepped quickly towards Evan, who immediately pulled her in behind him.

A trio of women turned the corner and walked past, their laughter breaking through Evan's coursing desire to wipe the floor with the Director's smirk. He did his best to block out the image of Wilsher's hands on Jen, and concentrated on the mission. A distraction this close to the auction could ruin everything. Besides. It wasn't like he wouldn't be able to easily find out where the man lived once they were done here tonight.

"You okay?" Evan asked Jen, not taking his eyes off the man he so desperately wanted to knock senseless.

"I'm fine." She nodded quickly. "Director Wilsher was just leaving." To her ears, her voice sounded a hell of a lot calmer than she felt. Later, she might be able to laugh over this whole thing, but right now, at this exact moment, all she wanted was to get as far away from the man as possible. She reached out and placed her hand against Evan's lower back, comforting herself with his presence, and desperately wanting to leach some of his stability. A tiny shiver shot down her spine and she shuddered.

When Evan felt the tremble in her palm against his back, he nearly lost control. He had to double his efforts not to punch the slime-bag right here and now. He stared him down, watching the calculations flying as Wilsher sized him up, looking for a weakness. Well, he wasn't going to find one. Evan evened his weight and readied himself for a fight.

The Director took a step forward and Jen stiffened with a sharp breath. Evan reached back and moved her further behind him, waiting for Wilsher to telegraph his first move.

Jen leaned around the broad shoulders that were shielding her. She could see the flushed anger on Wilsher's face. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to take a swing at Evan, but he was holding back. Barely. The last thing they needed was for a fight to break out, especially because of her. It would distract everyone from the task at hand. But, if Wilsher was so worried about his job, then she'd let him be.

She cleared her throat and attempted to find her voice. "Director, if you want to catch Franks, you're not going to do it from up here."

The Director narrowed his gaze, held his breath, then exhaled with a sneer as he obviously came to the healthiest conclusion. Evan would kick his ass.

Evan gave Wilsher a hard stare. "Leave. Now."

Wilsher glared at Jen, his eyes narrowed as he considered his options. After a long, tension filled moment, he turned and walked away. At the end of the corridor he stopped and looked back, giving them a jovial nod. "Until next time." Then he disappeared around the corner.

"There's not going to be a next time." Evan called, but Wilsher was gone.

Evan turned towards Jen. Her spine was rigid and she was staring at him wide-eyed. "Did he hurt you?" He asked quickly, his eyes moving over her arms, shoulders, neck, face.

Jen shook her head. "No. He just sca - surprised me." She bit back admitting he'd scared her, refusing to give the creep any credit. She was already going to have nightmares for a week.

"What the hell that all about?"

"He thinks I'm after his job."

"He thinks..." Evan frowned, unable to grasp the logic. He shook his head. "Look, maybe we should just get you back to the Daedalus."

"No." Jen shook her head firmly. "That's exactly what he wants. I'm not letting him win. I'm okay. Really. I'm fine. He just… surprised me is all."

Evan watched her, not believing for a moment that she was as fine as she said. "You sure?"

She nodded, blinked, then looked down the hallway to where Wilsher had gone. "I'm sorry." She shook her head, her voice quiet. "It seems I can't even go to the bathroom without causing trouble." She turned back, exhaling a shaky breath.

She rubbed the back of her neck and Evan could see the tiny shake in her fingers. He cursed himself again for letting her go alone. "Hey." He reached out, and pulled her against him, wrapping his arms tightly around her, as much for his own peace of mind than hers. "This is not your fault."

"Yeah. I know." Jen quickly latched her arms around his waist and rested her forehead on his shoulder. "Apparently the Director has issues with women."

"Gee, you think?" Evan muttered.

After a few moments, he felt her shoulders finally relax. She slowly moved her hands out from beneath the edges of his jacket, and Evan felt her fingers moving for the M9's secured in the double holsters he wore around his shoulders under the expertly tailored jacket. He felt her laugh before he heard it.

"Why Mr. Lorne." She lifted her head. "Two? For me?"

"Are you kidding?" He grinned, relieved to see her smiling again. "With your luck? There's actually three."

She snorted swatted at him.

Evan shook his head and reached for her hand, pulling her out of the alcove and towards the stairs. "No more going anywhere alone." He growled, with a little more force than necessary.

"I had a feeling you were going to say that." She smiled.

He motioned for her to stay back while he moved towards the stairs, double checking that Wilsher had indeed left. He turned around when he felt her hand land lightly on his upper arm.

"Thank you." She said sincerely. "You have impeccable timing."

"Not impeccable enough." He muttered, guiding her down the ornate staircase. "Or he never would have gotten his hands on you in the first place." He blinked against the visual image of Wilsher grabbing her, and shook his head. "Look, Jen. When this is over…"

"I know, I know." She interrupted with a soft laugh, and followed him through the tables. "You're going to kick his ass."

Evan stopped and turned towards her. "Actually… I was going to say, when this is over, you need to report him."

"Oh." Jen blinked.

"And then I'll kick his ass."

.

.

.

Author's Note: Okay so how much do you like Wilsher now???? :P There is a method to my madness, and GLENN says to tell you, they really, really wanted to make sure you're all ready to kick wilsher's ass. We all know someone just like him, don't we ladies! :) - Nika