A/N. This story was written for Bunny Bounce 2025 Fic Fest.

If you haven't watched "Stargate: Atlantis," that's fine; the story should still be understandable. But if you're familiar with the show and are curious about the timeline of this fic, then you might be interested to know that the events take place shortly before "Sunday" (S03E17).

Evan crossed his arms and sighed, leaning against the wall, watching the couples spin around the makeshift dance floor. Around him, people were engaged in lively chatter and sampling of various foods and beverages prepared for Dr. Beckett's surprise birthday party.

Evan's eyes kept travelling to the other side of the room, where Hermione Granger was teaching Ronon Dex how to waltz. By the looks of it, they weren't getting very far. Maybe that was because Ronon seemed to be paying more attention to Hermione rather than to whatever she was trying to teach him. They seemed to be having fun, though.

"Have you tried this stuff, Major?" Sheppard said, drawing Evan's attention to himself.

The Colonel had a glass of some sort of amber liquid in each hand, and held one out to Evan.

"What is it, sir?" Evan asked, accepting the drink and giving it a sniff test.

"Ruus wine," Sheppard replied. "A gift from our Athosian friends. Tasty stuff, but hell of a kick. I wouldn't recommend having more than one if you plan on dancing today."

"Thanks, but I think I'll pass on the dancing, sir."

"Ah, come on, Lorne. You aren't planning on propping up that wall all evening, are you?" Sheppard jutted his chin to their left. "Even McKay is stumbling his way through this. I'm sure you can do better than that."

Evan shifted his gaze to where Dr. McKay and Dr. Brown were dancing and let out a chuckle. McKay might be brilliant, but he clearly had two left feet. At least, Brown didn't seem to mind.

"I'm fine, sir," Evan said, taking a sip of his drink; it had a sweet, fruity flavour, but burned going down. His gaze, once more, shifted to Hermione and Ronon.

"You could always ask her for a dance, you know," Sheppard said after a lengthy pause.

Evan followed Sheppard's gaze to see who he was referring to and froze with his drink halfway to his lips.

Damn. Way to be so obvious, Evan.

"Ah—no. She's already dancing with someone."

"So? You politely cut in, and I'm sure she won't say no."

"Maybe not. But I might incur Ronon's wrath, and I wouldn't want that. Especially not today. Out of respect for Dr. Beckett."

"Trust me, Ronon's gonna be fine," Sheppard said, clapping Evan on the shoulder and all but pushing him forward. "Besides, it looks like Hermione could use some rescuing."

Even raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Rescuing, sir? From what?"

"Have you seen her face? She's trying hard not to wince every time Ronon steps on her feet."

Evan wanted to reply that, of course, he'd seen her face—he had a hard time looking elsewhere for too long. It was like a magnet, drawing him in every time he tried to redirect his attention.

He drained the rest of his drink but didn't move.

"So?" Sheppard prompted, holding out a hand for Evan's empty glass. "Major Lorne to the rescue?"

Evan took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Yes, sir."

He quickly cut across the dance floor and tapped Ronon on the shoulder.

"Mind if I cut in?" Evan asked, bracing himself for Ronon's reaction.

Surprisingly, Ronon didn't seem upset about the interruption. He merely shrugged his shoulders, grunted something indistinguishable, and backed away, leaving Hermione staring at Evan.

She blinked away her surprise and smiled, making something inside Evan melt.

He cleared his throat and offered her his hand. "Shall we?"

She nodded and stepped into his arms as the music crescendoed into a lively waltz.

By the time the music changed into a slow ballad, they were both breathless and giddy from the rapid tempo of the dance.

"I didn't know you could waltz so well!" Hermione said, catching her breath. A lovely blush spread across her cheeks, and her eyes were bright with mirth. "You're full of surprises, Evan."

He shrugged his shoulders. "My mom taught me years ago, before prom. Said it would be bad manners if I spent the evening stepping all over my date's feet."

She smiled up at him. "Well, my feet certainly thank you for your skill."

Evan couldn't help but smile back, enjoying the way Hermione's face practically glowed when she was happy. It was probably corny, but it was as if her smile lit up the entire room.

And then there were her eyes… He'd noticed some time ago that they were changeable depending on her mood. Most of the time, they were brown with gold flecks, but when she was concentrating hard or worried about something, they were completely dark brown. Then, when she was tired or was performing magic, her eyes turned amber…

God, listen to him. It was as if he'd spent an inordinate amount of time considering the colour of Hermione's eyes—which he hadn't. Not really. He was just observant, and the way her eyes shifted shades appealed to the artist in him. It was as simple as that.

"So," Evan said, keeping his tone as neutral as he could as they continued dancing, "you and Ronon, huh?"

Her forehead crinkled into a small frown. "Pardon?"

"When did you two get together?"

"Um… You mean together, as in—"

"Dating."

"Oh!" Hermione laughed, shaking her head. "Goodness, no. We're not… Ronon and I are just friends. Nothing more. He insisted I take some sparring lessons with him, and in exchange, he asked me to teach him how to dance. Little did I know what I was signing up for. Honestly, for how coordinated he is when he fights, he's a rather terrible dancer."

Evan chuckled. "Maybe that's because dancing requires more… finesse."

A few more dances later, they went to get some drinks. They laughed and talked and laughed some more, exchanging funny stories and teasing one another. Perhaps alcohol had something to do with it, or perhaps it was her particular brand of wit and sense of humour—but Evan didn't think he'd laughed and smiled quite this much in a very long time.

"There is a place," Evan said, when Hermione finished telling him about a childhood mishap with paints, "on the west pier. The view is absolutely amazing. I'd love to paint it one day. Would you like to see the place?"

She gave him that smile of hers that sent his heart soaring. "I'd love to."

They took the long way there, deciding to walk instead of using the transporter. The corridors were pretty much empty, except for a couple of security officers making their rounds.

As they were about to round one of the corners, Dr. Zelenka, running at full speed, nearly crashed into them. Evan's reflexes kicked in, and he quickly grabbed Hermione by the waist and spun them both out of the way of a potential collision.

"Whoa, doc!" he said, as Zelenka skidded to a stop.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" the other man apologized, adjusting his grip on his tablet. He was panting heavily, and his face was red from exertion.

"Is everything alright, Radek?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Zelenka pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I just need to check something in my lab. I had an inspiration!"

With that, Zelenka turned and continued running, muttering something in rapid-fire Czech.

"If you say so, doc," Evan said to his back, shaking his head in amusement. "Crazy scientists."

"Be nice," Hermione said, lightly smacking him on the chest.

"I didn't mean anything bad by it," Evan said, turning to look at her and then wishing he hadn't when it put his face too close to hers.

He still had his arm around her waist, pressing her closely to his side. And she had a hand on his back to steady herself.

"I only meant…" he tried to continue, but all rational thought seemed to abandon him as he struggled to remember what exactly the hell he'd meant to say beforehand.

He watched her swallow, watched her eyes dart to his lips before she blushed prettily. Then she blinked and kept her eyes on his. Evan did the same in return.

Moments ticked by as they simply stood in an empty corridor, staring at each other, before the sound of approaching footsteps broke whatever spell they'd both fallen under.

Hermione cleared her throat and pulled away first. "Right. The west pier."

"Right."

They resumed their walk, somehow managing to fall back into easy conversation after that intense moment.

"Please, tell me you don't race to your lab like that every time you have an inspiration?"

Hermione scoffed. "Of course not. I simply Apparate."

Evan chuckled. "Right."

In what seemed like no time at all, they reached the pier and stepped onto the balcony overlooking the city. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the structures and the surrounding water.

"You weren't joking about the view," Hermione said in awe, her eyes roaming over the scene before them.

Evan watched her silently, taking everything in: the way the wind played with her hair, how she shifted her head as though absorbing everything into herself, trying to memorize every detail. The way the setting sun turned her brown hair into auburn.

They'd known each other for nearly a year. In that time, they'd been together on countless missions, had saved a bunch of people and each other many times, fought the Wraith and the Replicators, and survived one dangerous situation after another.

Evan thought back to all that, trying to figure out exactly when his feelings towards Hermione began to change into something deeper and more genuine. Something far beyond friendship.

Was it that time the two of them had had to spend the night in a cave, hiding from the Wraith? Evan had gotten injured then, and Hermione had tended to him, staying up all night, making sure they'd be safe.

Or was it that time he'd volunteered to teach her how to fly a Puddle Jumper?

No, if he was being completely honest with himself, he'd probably been in trouble from the start—when he'd first met her in the infirmary, and she'd healed his broken leg in mere seconds.

Hell, she'd probably had him at 'Hello.' It had just taken him some time to realize it.

Love at first sight.

Evan had never believed in it before. He'd always thought it was just a fairy tale. As far as he was concerned, it took time to truly get to know someone and fall in love with them.

But then again, he'd thought magic was a fairy tale, too.

And yet, when Hermione Granger had come to Atlantis, she'd proven him wrong—on both accounts.

Once Evan had finally figured out his feelings, he'd spent a long time fighting them. Because he'd avoided the whole 'dating' thing from the start … Because Atlantis was a small place—too small—and the last thing Evan needed were complications. He was in charge of personnel placements for the military and had a fair hand in the civilian side of things, too. That and being Sheppard's second meant there was pretty much no one in the city he could avoid for long without drawing attention to himself. If something didn't work out…

It was best to play it smart, his rational mind had told him.

But his heart hadn't agreed.

Even now, when Hermione finally turned away from the view and looked at him, her expression unreadable, Evan found himself staring back, unable to tear his gaze away. Then he slowly brought his hand up and stroked her hair.

And then—

And then he wasn't sure what possessed him … Well, actually, he was. It was called desire, and it ripped up from a place inside him he thought he had firmly in control and grabbed him by the throat. Before his rational mind could catch up and remind him it was a bad idea, Evan brought his lips to Hermione's.

The kiss began slowly and tenderly, but then she slid her hands up his chest and around his neck and parted her lips, and what little sense he had left flew out the window. He kissed her intently, pressing her body against his. His body reacted to her in the most delicious way. His head was spinning; he felt… hot, all the way down to his toes. Electricity coursed through him. He felt a little wild and out of control—and he kinda liked it.

He was wholly engaged in the act, and it wasn't long before he realized something. Kissing her wasn't going to be enough. He wanted more… A whole lot more. But wanting didn't translate into having, and in this case, Evan was pretty sure that having could only complicate things. He had to stop before he lost his mind entirely… And he would stop… Soon.

When they finally pulled away, both breathless and chest heaving, Evan had to physically take a step back to prevent himself from crashing his lips against hers again.

Slowly, sanity prevailed.

"I… probably shouldn't have done that," he said, once he got his breathing under control.

She stumbled back as if he'd slapped her, confusion and hurt written plainly on her face. "Are you… Are you saying you regret what happened?"

Evan winced. "What? No! I can't say that I do."

"Then why—"

He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "Because I want more!"

"And what makes you think—"

"Because we can't!"

"Why is that?"

"Because we work together. Because it might complicate things. Because I want to avoid heartbreak—for both of us. Take your pick. And because when I say I want more, I don't just mean some kind of cheap fling or a one-night stand with you—that's just not me."

"I know that," she said quietly. "It's one of the many things I love about you."

Evan blinked, disbelieving what he was hearing.

Did she really just say what he thought she did? Or was it just some wishful thinking on his part?

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Evan," Hermione grumbled, letting out a frustrated breath. "I swear, if I were to look up the word 'oblivious' in the dictionary, it would have your picture beside it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She took a step closer to him. "I would think that it would be quite obvious after all this time and after the kiss we just shared." She paused, her eyes searching his. "I'm in love with you, Evan."

Evan stared at her for a heartbeat. Something relaxed inside him at Hermione's words.

She loved him.

He wasn't sure how it was possible, but he wasn't stupid enough to hesitate any longer. So he closed the distance between them and kissed her again. It was like the first time, only hotter … more passionate… and a hell of a lot more purposeful. He tried to convey everything through this one kiss: his love, his longing, his desire. Everything he'd kept hidden inside.

"In case I wasn't being obvious here," Evan said breathlessly when they pulled away, "I'm in love with you, Hermione."

She smiled and pressed their foreheads together, running a hand along his jaw, then to the back of his neck and through his hair—sending shivers down his spine.

"We have a mandatory rest day coming up," Evan said, peppering her face with soft kisses. "How would you like to spend it with me?"

"I'd love that."

"It's a date then."

And he found her lips and kissed her again.

A/N. If you decided to give this story a chance, thank you kindly. I do have a bunch of notes for a multi-chapter fic to expand this little one-shot. If I were to write a HP/SGA crossover with HG/Evan Lorne pairing, would anyone read it?

Take care!