With her hands clenched tightly in her lap, Jen cursed the collection of dinner plates and silverware. Too many forks, knives, spoons. Two prongs and three. Long handle and short. Big spoon and small. Extra plates and extra glasses. The only thing she'd easily figured out was the water glass because it had, well, water in it.
She sighed at the spring-mix salad the waitor had deposited in front of her and gave her three forks the evil-eye. She thought about getting a dinner roll, but then came the whole arguement over which plate was hers - the one on the right, or the one on the left. She supposed she could just pick it up and eat it like an apple, then she wouldn't need a plate...
The tablecloth brushed her knuckles as Evan's hand slid across her lap. She quickly flipped her hand over and threaded her fingers through his, seeking reassurance. When she looked up, he was grinning.
"It's not funny." She whispered harshly. "I told you I have no idea what I'm doing."
He leaned closer, turning his head so he could speak quietly in her ear. "I don't think it matters."
"What, that I don't know what I'm doing?"
"No, which fork you use."
"They why give you so many?" She frowned.
He shrugged then angled his head towards their table. "No one else seems to care."
Jen glanced around the table, trying to see what everyone else was doing. George and Marjory were both eating salad with the smaller forks. The investment bankers, Thomas and Caroline were using the big forks. Sarah had her bread on the plate to her left, and her husband Elson was eating salad off her small plate with his bread to the right. George and Marjory were sharing a dinner roll the side plate that sat in between them, fighting over how much butter to put on each piece.
Jen felt Evan's fingers squeeze hers before releasing them, and she turned back towards him with a smile.
He winked and sat back in his chair.
"Fine." She laughed, reaching for a fork. "But if the etiquette police show up, I'm blaming you."
"Throwing me to the wolves already, huh." He shook his head sadly, then sighed. "Guess the honeymoon's over."
"We had a honeymoon?" She glanced sideways at him. "Funny, you'd think I'd remember something like that."
"Well if you knew how to hold your liquor," he reached for his water glass. "You might remember more than just the bathroom floor."
"Well if you weren't so bad in bed, I wouldn't have had to drink so much." Jen countered, trying very hard to keep a straight face.
Unfortunately Evan was in the process of drinking his water when she spoke and he choked, nearly spitting it out. He began to cough violently, earning them both curious stares from the rest of their table.
"Oh, you'll pay for that." He warned, coughing around his laughter.
Jen laughed so hard she nearly cried.
By the time dinner had finished, and the desert plates were cleared, Jen was having a great time. She'd completely forgotten – purposely – all about Franks and Wilsher and decided that if there was nothing she could do until the auction, then there was nothing she could do. May as well enjoy it. It wasn't every day she got to go to a ball. Well, okay, so she'd actually never been to a ball. A wedding or two, but most of her friends had church services then off to the community hall. Most certainly not a $1000 a plate fundraiser at an incredibly beautiful gallery.
She spent just as much time chatting as she did just looking around.
Once their table was cleared, and the tea and coffee decanters left behind, the lights dimmed in the ballroom. In the corner, a medium sized orchestra was set up and was now playing soft classical music. The large open floor on the far side was slowly filling with couples, including the rest of their table.
Their table quiet except for the two of them, Jen leaned over and grabbed for Evan's hand, sliding his sleeve up to check his watch. It was barely ten.
She sighed and leaned back, glancing at Evan, who was watching her with amusement.
He leaned closer. "You'd be terrible on a stakeout."
She snorted. "I hate waiting."
"I've noticed." He tapped the table and glanced over at the bar, which was set up on a low balcony on the opposite side of the room. He pushed his chair back and stood. "I'm going to check in with Ryan. See if there's any word on the container."
He stepped away, then changed his mind, turning back to whisper in her ear. "Stay. Here."
Jen rolled her eyes. "And what makes you think I can't get into trouble just sitting here?"
He smiled and shrugged. "Knowing you? Nothing. But at least I'll know where to find you when the fireworks start."
Jen laughed. "Then bring me back a cranberry juice."
Even pretended to shudder. "I don't know how you can drink that stuff." He shook his head when she laughed, and turned away.
At the bar, Evan slid onto a stool in the corner and waited for Ryan to finish up with some real customers. When Ryan finally approached, and Evan leaned across the bar.
"Nothing yet." Ryan said quickly. "Marks is close. Dr. McKay had to make some modifications to the scanner. He delivered it and the bogus container before supper."
"Cranberry juice." Evan said when a patron walked past.
Ryan nodded. "Marks thinks he found it." He went through the motions of pouring the juice. "But he has to keep moving so he's only able to get a closer look every 15 minutes."
Evan glanced past the swarm of party goers to the large curtained off area on the opposite wall. The artwork and auction items were listed in the brochure that everyone received with their place setting, but nothing was viewable until eleven o'clock when the curtains would lift and each item would be auctioned off one at a time.
If Marks was able to walk behind the curtain on regular rounds, it would make sense he could only stop for a few minutes at a time before someone would get suspicious that he hadn't reappeared out the other end.
Ryan set the full glass on the bar and dropped in a straw.
"We've got less than an hour." Evan reminded him.
"Then you'd better drink fast." Ryan slid the drink towards Evan. "If we don't find it, we're going to have to move onto Plan B."
"Didn't realize we had a plan B." Evan angled his head.
"We don't." Ryan shrugged. "And that's the problem."
"You found it?" John walked into the lab Rodney had commandeered in one of the lower levels of the Daedalus, and stopped next to the scientist.
"Marks did." Rodney looked up. "It's a Trojan horse."
"As in the virus?" John frowned.
"As in the horse." Rodney held out his tablet, showing John a photo of a brownish grey statue of a horse with massive wheels.
"Ah." John nodded. "It's inside the horse. Frightfully clever."
Rodney shrugged. "Didn't say they were smart."
"Was Marks able to replace it?"
"Nope. It's lead."
"Lead?"
"The statue. There's no visible opening."
John frowned. "Then how did they get it in there?"
Rodney made a face. "How the hell should I know?"
"How do we make the switch?"
"That is the $50,000 question."
John stuck his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight. "Can we beam it out?"
"What part about lead did you not hear?"
"Oh. Right." John nodded. Then he blinked. "And that's because…"
"Superman? Kryptonite? Super secret powers do not work through the stuff? And neither does Asguard beaming technology when it comes to removing a pop-bottle from a pumpkin."
"A pop…" John shook his head and killed the thought.
"Maybe we can have Marks cut it out?" Rodney asked hopefully.
"I think the 300 guests might notice the blowtorch." He threaded his arms across his chest and frowned.
"Ah." Rodney crossed his arms, and mimicked John's pose. "Touché."
"Although…" John said after a few moments.
"What?" Rodney watched him cautiously. "You've got that look again."
"Do you have a blowtorch?" John turned towards the scientist.
"Yup. In the garage right between the band-saw and the air compressor." Rodney nodded enthusiastically. Then he shook his head. "No, I don't have a blowtorch."
John scowled.
"But engineering should."
John rolled his eyes and exhaled with a snort. "Why didn't you just say that in the first place?" He turned on his heel and headed into the hallway.
"You didn't ask if engineering had one…" Rodney called after him. "You asked if I had one..."
John stuck his head back around the corner. "You coming?"
"Hmm? What? Oh. Right. Yes. Of course." Rodney nodded, grabbing his tablet and hurrying after the disappearing Colonel.