Kylie Lee | Slash fan fiction

"—and I have no intention of letting Atlantis Industries fall behind the curve on this one while I'm CEO." Elizabeth Weir glared. "Am I clear, Rodney?"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, of course," Rodney McKay said, jumping a little at her tone and coming to attention. He'd been messing around on his laptop.

Elizabeth turned to John Sheppard, the director of the sales department. "John, your presence will be crucial. Don't disappoint me. Teyla's plane was delayed. She should be in just before the reception. I expect the two of you to lead the way, as usual. I want you to make contacts."

"Well, good thing Teyla always wears something skimpy," John said easily. "I hear that James Cowen is susceptible to that kind of thing."

Elizabeth stood up and leaned across the conference table. "We will not win this contract through sex appeal," she hissed. "We will win it by a superior product and professionalism."

"Oh, please." John threw down his pen. "Of course, yes, we will win it by having a gonzo product. Dr. McKay is a genius. Even I acknowledge that." He gave the room at large a smile. "But let's face it. Being the best just isn't enough. If we have to use sex appeal—well, as long as it's all on the up and up, I have no problem with that, especially when it's me who's supposed to have the appeal. But you know what we really need? We really need to know who else is in the running. Genii and Co. are keeping it close to the vest. Bids are due in six days. And our supporting presentation is in two days."

"I can't order you to pump anyone from Genii for information—it would be unethical," Elizabeth said, sitting down. "And do you honestly think they'd be foolish enough to let that kind of information slip?"

"The banquet is at a perfect time for us," Carson Beckett, the vice president of medical research and the next in rank only after Elizabeth herself, interjected. "Delegations from everyone in the medical apparatus industry, all in one place at one time. And Dr. McKay here up for an award for excellence in software design!"

"Thank you, thank you," Rodney said. He gestured to Elizabeth's secretary, who had stopped taking minutes when the meeting had devolved into brainstorming, and pointed at his empty mug. "Is there more coffee?"

"Yes, I see where you're going with this, Carson," Elizabeth said. "We may hear something about the bid process from our competitors. And if Rodney wins, Genii may give our bid more weight."

"Exactly." Carson tapped the table. "We should all do our best to mingle—oh, quite right, network, excuse me, John—to find out what we can. And certainly the field isn't quite as large as we are pretending. I'd say only six companies have the wherewithal to bid on such a large project as Pegasus. But I have one other wee concern."

"Oh?"

"James Cowen is notoriously old-school. He'll be working closely with the winner of the bid, to tailor the product." Carson fidgeted as Elizabeth frowned. "Elizabeth, let's face it—you're the only female CEO in the industry. Don't think that's not an issue. We need to make you less…threatening."

"I'm threatening?" Elizabeth said, apparently honestly taken aback as John stifled a grin.

"Aye, that you are," Carson said. "I suggest that you get married."

Elizabeth blinked. "By tonight?" she asked sarcastically. "And how will being married help me?"

"It's a great idea," John interjected. "If we win the bid, you spend hours with James Cowen. You need to be beautiful, but not available. You need to be flirtatious, but totally safe. You need to be smart, but not as smart as him. You need to be—"

Elizabeth held up her hands. "Stop, please stop," she begged.

"At the very least, you should have a fiancé escort you to the awards banquet and the reception tonight," Carson said. "Preferably someone who knows about the project."

"Well, whom do you suggest I marry?" Elizabeth asked. "James Cowen knows everyone at this table. He knows I couldn't possibly be engaged to any of you."

"Aye, that is a problem," Carson agreed. "One of the gentlemen in tech?"

"No, no, no, they're all too young," Rodney said. "Oh, thanks," he said as Elizabeth's secretary, now bearing carafes, filled his coffee mug.

"Why can't I be engaged to a hopelessly handsome, much younger man?" Elizabeth demanded as her secretary circled the table, topping off coffee and water. "I mean, look at James Cowen. His wife Sora is young enough to be his daughter. No, wait—don't say it. Double standard."

"Ronon Dex?" McKay offered.

"My bodyguard?" Elizabeth laughed. "No one would believe it. Not to mention, he has to be guarding me. He won't be able to dance. And his manner doesn't exactly admit confidences."

"Dr. Weir?" her secretary said quietly, setting the carafes down on the marble bar that stretched along the back of the conference room. "You have a ten o'clock teleconference with the Bonn office."

"Thank you, Radek," Elizabeth said, standing up. "Well, I have no objection to magically becoming less threatening. Just let me know the identity of my fiancé by tonight, would you, gentlemen?" She stopped at the door as her secretary preceded her through, then held it open for her. "What? John, why are you looking at me like that?"

"Not you." John craned his head. "Radek? What are you doing tonight?"

"Oh, no," Elizabeth said as Radek Zelenka stuck his head back into the conference room. "Not Radek."

"Why not Radek?" John asked reasonably. "He's perfect. He knows the project inside and out. He's old enough. And James Cowen has never met him. Come here, Radek."

Radek entered the room unwillingly. His too-long, messy hair brushed the collar of his modest suit, and his wire-rimmed glasses were slightly askew. "Yes, Mr. Sheppard?" he said nervously, clutching a clipboard of notes to his chest as John got up and surveyed him, slowly circling.

"I can work with this," John declared. "A tuxedo—a haircut—a quick trip to get the glasses repaired—a shave, obviously a shave—can't do anything about his height, though—"

"Have a heart, the man is standing right here," Carson said, and Radek shot the Scot a grateful glance. "Are you up to it, Radek? Can you do this for the good of the company?"

"Certainly," Radek said composedly. "Dr. Weir has always had my full loyalty and support."

"Your accent is perfect," John pronounced. "Exotic. Don't change the accent."

Elizabeth sighed. "Radek, I think you'd better call me Elizabeth," she said. "You have the rest of the day off. Meet me here at six. Aiden will drive us to the banquet in the limo. John, fix him up, would you?"

"Don't wear heels tonight," John called after her. He crossed his arms and grinned. "Let's get to work, shall we, Radek?"

***

Radek Zelenka eyed himself in the mirror. He'd never been the subject of a makeover before, and he wasn't sure he enjoyed the scrutiny. Since he'd left his teaching job, he'd discovered that he didn't mind fading into the background, setting off the brightness of those around him by his steady, competent work. Now, he'd be on the arm of one of the most powerful CEOs in the medical apparatus industry at its single most important event. His picture would probably show up with hers on a Web site, or in the back pages of a trade magazine. He could just imagine the caption: "Dr. Elizabeth Weir, CEO of the American arm of Atlantis Industries, with Radek Zelenka"—that is, if they even spelled his name correctly. More likely, he'd be cropped out altogether.

"Well?" the tailor asked hopefully. "This one is better, yes? With the narrower cummerbund and the slightly less flared lapels?"

"The break is what I'm concerned about," John fussed, leaning over to check Radek's pants. He tweaked a trouser leg to check how it fell against Radek's shoe.

"Four-harness worsted, very fine fabric," the tailor noted. He pulled at the button at Radek's waist, analyzing the way the jacket moved. "Much better, much, much better," he said. "How does it feel, sir?"

Radek lifted and dropped his shoulders, then turned this way and that in front of the mirror. He had to admit that classic single-breasted black tie suited him. His glasses had been repaired, and John had taken him to an old-fashioned barbershop where not only had his hair been cut, but he'd also had a shave with a straight-edged razor, complete with hot towels pressed on his face before and a sprinkling of scented water after, and his eyebrows had been discreetly shaped. He'd also had a manicure, and his buffed, perfectly trimmed nails made his hands look surprisingly different. But the tuxedo—that had done it. Now, instead of an executive's assistant, he looked like an executive. It was amazing what a little time and a lot of money could do.

"I like it," Radek said. "But black tie instead of white tie at an evening event when ladies will be wearing floor-length gowns—"

The tailor sighed noisily. "Americans are such philistines," he agreed.

"And Europeans are so hidebound," John said as his office door opened and someone came in. "Rodney, come here. Tell me what you think."

"Wow," Rodney said, mouth dropping open. "I mean—wow. Radek, you look—wow. That is a very, very nice—uh—suit."

As Radek flushed, John grinned. "We've reduced Rodney to incoherence. I think that'll do it, Mr. Loria."

The tailor gave a half-bow. "Ciao, then," he said as his assistant gathered up garment bags, and they bustled out the door.

"I came up to tell you that Carson is wearing a kilt, but your news has trumped mine," Rodney said, sitting on the corner of John's desk. "And you look pretty good in a tux yourself, John."

Radek averted his eyes as John and Rodney exchanged a quick kiss. Their relationship was no secret, but they tended to be extremely discreet. "Er—I have the invitations for everyone," Radek said, seeking to deflect their scrutiny. Rodney's reaction made him distinctly uncomfortable. "They're on my desk. Mr. Sheppard, if you could leave Miss Emmagan's with the security area at the reception site—she'll be coming right from the airport. Her plane just touched down."

"Don't try to change the subject," John said. "I believe we were talking about you, Radek."

"Really, you look great," Rodney said sincerely. "That tux—"

"You can dance, can't you?" John interrupted, giving Rodney a look before he could wax poetic again.

Radek nodded. "Of course I can dance," he said.

"John, please," Rodney said. "Yes, yes, yes, as the man said, of course he can dance. Radek has a PhD in physics and speaks four languages. Sorry, Radek. Five languages."

John blinked. "Did I know this?" he asked. "What is a PhD in physics doing pouring coffee and scheduling meetings?"

"The U.S. government will not grant me permanent resident status, and so I cannot get security clearance," Radek said. "Also, I type 120 words a minute."

"I have to admit that Radek has been doing some work for me in his off hours," Rodney said. "His background in fluid dynamics was really very helpful for some of the modeling I had to do. The minute his security clearance comes through, he's on my team. If Elizabeth can spare him, that is."

"I spent all day with you and never found this stuff out," John marveled. "This helping out thing—why didn't you mention it to me, Rodney?"

"Well, the legal problem—his being a foreign national. I didn't want to get anybody in trouble but me and Radek if anybody found out."

John leaned across his desk as his phone beeped. "It's the quiet ones who always have surprises up their sleeves." He hit a button on his phone. "Yes?" he called.

"John," Elizabeth's voice said through the speaker. "The cars are ready. I'm going down now. Will you and Radek meet me in the foyer? We can go out together."

"Be right there." John made a waving motion with both his hands. "Everyone out. Rodney, you're in the Mercedes with me and Carson. Radek, let's get those invitations." In the confusion of getting the invitations and heading downstairs, John pulled Radek aside. "Remember, you've got to be aggressive," he said quietly. "Initiate conversations, ask her to dance, all that."

Outside of his academic specialty, aggression was not his strong suit, Radek had to admit. It was one thing to be aggressive with one's own ideas, as he had been when he taught in Prague; but it was another to be aggressive when all one did was organize things. "I'll—I'll do my best," he said.

John hesitated. "Radek, as a friend—you care for Elizabeth, don't you?" When Radek didn't—couldn't—answer, he patted Radek's arm. "She's a wonderful lady. She deserves some happiness. She's not the cold, unapproachable woman people make her out to be. You know that better than anyone. I think your Old World charm may thaw her. If you can capture her attention."

Before Radek could think of something to say, they had all crowded into the elevator. Was his love for Elizabeth that painfully obvious? Apparently so—but then again, John was particularly close to Elizabeth. Well, in this situation—when Radek had to pretend to be engaged to her—any signs or slips he might make of his regard for her would simply be perceived as evidence of his acting ability. The thought was simultaneously freeing and terrifying.

"You're on," John whispered as the elevator doors slid open. He gave Radek a slight push.

Radek took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and strode out purposefully, his Italian leather shoes ringing confidently on the marble floor. Elizabeth stood near the glass revolving doors, talking to Carson Beckett, who was indeed wearing a kilt, and near the door, glaring at everyone as usual, was her bodyguard, Ronon Dex, whose tux and dreadlocks clashed incongruously. Radek's steps hesitated only slightly when Ronon looked at him and tensed. Luckily, Ronon recognized him and relaxed again. Radek didn't know whether to be amused or dismayed at everyone's reaction to his new look. "Be aggressive," he remembered as he zeroed in on Elizabeth.

"Elizabeth, darling," he said, rudely cutting in on her conversation with Carson. He took her hand, and her mouth dropped open as she turned to him. "You look stunning," he continued sincerely, bringing her hand up to press a kiss on it. She did look stunning, in a low-cut sleeveless gold sheath dress. A white pashmina was draped behind her like a scarf. She'd put her hair up in an elegant twist, and delicate gold jewelry at her neck and ears completed the look. "I have the invitations in hand. Carson." He inclined his head in polite acknowledgment, unable to suppress a smile. He found that he was definitely enjoying himself. First he had made a conquest of Rodney, and now Elizabeth looked amazed. It was as if nobody had ever seen him before.

"Radek," Carson managed.

"And I have this for you, sweetheart," Radek continued smoothly, pulling something from his pocket. He slid a ring with a large pear-cut diamond flanked by two tiny emeralds onto her finger. It flashed as it caught the light. "Your engagement ring. You must forgive me—I had to choose it myself, and unfortunately, I could not obtain permission to purchase a ring with a real stone. I hope it fits."

"It's—it's—it's lovely," Elizabeth stuttered. "I love it. It fits perfectly. Thank you."

"We should go." Radek tucked her arm in his, noticing that although normally they were of a height, tonight, although her heels were very slight, she was taller than him. He looked up at Elizabeth's bodyguard expectantly. "Ronon?"

"Uh, right," Ronon said, leading the way.

Radek and Elizabeth were bundled into the limo facing Ronon. The driver, Aiden Ford, so discreet as to be invisible—much like Radek himself, Radek thought ironically, despite the eye-catching patch over one eye—shut the door behind them. Radek barely noticed when the car pulled away from the curb. "We should be ready for questions," he told Elizabeth, adjusting himself in the seat so only their legs brushed.

"How did we meet, that kind of thing? Yes, good idea." Elizabeth fiddled with the small gold clutch bag she held. "You really—you look very nice, Radek. Very—er—handsome."

Handsome? Handsome was good. It was not an adjective he heard a lot. Normally he heard descriptions more along the lines of "competent" and "adorable." He said, "Thank you," then smiled at her and held her eyes. She didn't look away. Radek was encouraged. It led him to say, "And you look beautiful."

Elizabeth cleared her throat. "Well, we met at work, of course; we will simply say that you're an executive assistant and leave it at that." She held her hand outstretched, admiring the ring on her finger. "Er—the merger with Athosia Corp. We worked together closely during the transition because we both spoke French, and that's when we began—when we began seeing each other."

"Yes, good," Radek said. "A good idea, to stick close to the truth whenever possible." He'd been hired as Elizabeth's executive assistant about then, partly the basis of his ability to speak French, Spanish, and German as well as English. His ability to speak his native Czech was not in much demand, but it was a language that Elizabeth, herself notoriously multilingual, did not know well.

Elizabeth gave a nervous laugh. "Radek, we've sat back here in the limo a thousand times over the two years we've worked together, but this is the first time I've been…uncomfortable. You'll have to forgive me. Seeing you like this—I don't know what to think."

Radek took a deep breath. "Why don't you think we could be in love?" he suggested. "We are engaged, if only for tonight, so it follows that we must love one another." He took her hand, the left one, with the ostentatiously large engagement ring. "It follows that we must be lovers." He intertwined his fingers with hers. He felt that his face should be hot, that he shouldn't speak so directly to her of such things, but instead, he felt cool and calm. Their only audience was Ronon. This was the closest he could come to declaring the truth, all of it cleverly couched as lies.

"I didn't—that's true," Elizabeth said. "I never thought of you—that is—"

"It's all right, Elizabeth," Radek said quickly, before she could talk herself around to saying something embarrassing. She was so rarely at a loss for words. He brought her hand up and kissed her knuckles, and to his surprise, she quieted. He liked saying her name. He had never called her by her first name, even though she had invited him to at the end of his first day at work, and after her single request, she had never repeated it. He had always suspected she liked the deference.

After a long moment, Elizabeth gently disengaged her hand and averted her eyes. "I'll have to dance with James Cowen, of course," she said, settling deeper into the rich leather seat. Radek was disappointed: she regained command of herself when she talked business—and when she wasn't facing him. "And you should ask Sora to dance. She may say no. But if she says yes, try to talk business, get what you can out of her. She's director of marketing for Genii, after all—and don't forget that she worked for Atlantis, although only briefly. She may know the names of some Atlantis employees. Don't be fooled if she attempts intimacy or pretends knowledge on that basis."

Radek half-listened to her reel off suggestions and commands. Once again, she was the crisp CEO, all business, but as she spoke, Radek took in the line of her neck to her shoulder, the tendrils of hair escaping its twist and curling by her cheek. She was always in control. It had been nice to see her flustered. All it had taken was Radek's remarkable transformation from mousy secretary to dashing fiancé. He thought she was retreating back into business now to put them back on their old footing, with her in control. Well, he decided, tonight, that couldn't happen, because tonight, he was her fiancé. He had her captive, with an audience, which meant she had to be unfailingly polite, and he intended to get what he could out of it.

"We're here," Elizabeth announced, leaning forward to peer out the heavily tinted window. She turned to face him. "Shall we go in?"

"Yes," Radek said as Ronon slid out to ensure the safety of the scene. He returned after a minute and handed them both out. "One moment," Radek said when they were just inside the door, when he judged that they were out of any potential danger and Ronon would once again stand aside. Beautifully dressed people were milling about, chatting. The doors to the banquet room hadn't yet been thrown open. "One thing before we go in, if we are to be engaged."

"Yes?" Elizabeth asked.

"Just this."

Before he could talk himself out of it, Radek put his arm around her and kissed her. Her mouth was soft under the gentle press of his lips. When she tried to pull away after a too-brief moment, he followed her, and, he thought muzzily, he had been right to, because she opened her mouth under his, and the polite kiss morphed into something not polite at all. It was the kind of burning kiss that lovers gave each other. Even as it happened, Radek was aware that this was likely his only chance to kiss Elizabeth like this, to touch her tongue with his, to gently stroke the soft skin of her cheek with the backs of his fingers, to let her know how he really felt—to let her know, without words, how much he loved her. He was vaguely aware of Ronon watching impassively. The scent and taste of Elizabeth were far more immediate and compelling.

Radek pulled back when he felt Elizabeth surrender, when she relaxed into him and the edge of panic disappeared. He had to stop before he couldn't stop. "Just so we know," Radek whispered, and Elizabeth nodded mutely. Radek committed the moment to memory, to store up for the future. He had wondered what it would be like to kiss her, to make love to her, and now he knew that if she let it, there would be passion between them. He didn't know whether to laugh or to cry—to know that he could really have something with someone he'd vainly loved for two years, or to know that it could never happen. She'd let him kiss her because he'd done it in public, and they were supposed to be engaged.

She looked at him for a long moment, then brushed his lips with her thumb, wiping away lipstick. She turned away when someone addressed her, and the moment was over.

***

"Congratulations, Rodney," Carson said, holding up his glass. "To an award well deserved."

"To Rodney," they all echoed before drinking.

"Thank you, thank you," Rodney said, not at all modestly, lounging against one of the huge pillars set around the dance floor. People were still trickling out of the banquet room, and white-coated employees of the facility were carrying large platters of wine and bite-size cheesecakes to and fro. "Of course, I was confident I'd win."

"That's why his speech was so long," John said. "He spent all last night writing it." He smiled fondly at Rodney. The casual, easy way they treated each other gave Radek a pang. He wanted what they had, he realized: affection. They didn't touch in public, but at moments like this, their being together was palpable. It made his feelings for brilliant, imperious, driven Elizabeth seem all the more hopeless. She did not have time for affection. She barely dated.

"I memorized it in the car on the way over," Rodney said.

"Your presentation of the high-tech award went well," John told Elizabeth. "And Radek, that was inspired, seating her in her chair when she came back down from the podium. The solicitous fiancé—perfect."

"Ah, the music has begun at last," Teyla said in her perfect, almost accentless English. The exotically beautiful Frenchwoman had joined Atlantis's sales team after it acquired Athosia Corp. and merged it with the French office. Although she'd been president of Athosia Corp., she had agreed to join Atlantis's sales team, in part because she wanted to relocate to the States from France, and in fact, her contacts overseas had proved invaluable. "We should go in. John, may I have the first dance?"

"Of course, Teyla," John said, crooking his arm. Teyla smiled and took it. John's prediction had proved right: Teyla's outfit was outrageously skimpy, showing off an expanse of toned stomach. She definitely turned heads. She kept in shape, Radek had heard, with martial arts training.

"What a cute couple," Rodney sighed as the rest of them followed to the edge of the dance floor. He stopped a server, took a plate, and piled a few little cheesecakes on it. "For god's sake, Carson, cheer up," he said, mouth full. "You look fine. I keep telling you."

"It's not the same," Carson said, extending one leg and surveying his hose. "The sgian dubhs are simply decorative. Security had no need to confiscate them. And I left my dirk at home. I feel quite naked without some sort of weaponry."

"No, you feel naked because we can see your knees," Rodney said. "Oh, look, there's Dr. Nisbet. I'm going to ask her to dance." He handed Carson his now-empty plate.

"What a modest winner," Carson said as Rodney rushed off. "Poor Jane Nisbet, losing the award to Rodney. And she'll have to dance with him to show there are no hard feelings. Ah! I see the dessert buffet." He nodded at Radek and Elizabeth. "You two must have the first dance, but Elizabeth, don't think you'll get off so lightly. Save me the dance after the break—if your fiancé doesn't object, of course."

"Of course not," Radek said, giving Carson a half-bow.

"I look forward to it, Carson," Elizabeth said, taking Radek's arm with an easy familiarity that sent a rush of pleasure through him, and Carson started making his way through the crowd to the buffet table. "The kilt—and those shoes! I can't decide whether he looks dashing or ridiculous," she confided.

"Dashing, of course," Radek said, steering her onto the dance floor. A double quartet was playing a familiar waltz. The effect of the beautiful room was offset by a giant banner suspended from the ceiling that said SECURITY AND HEALTH THROUGH TECHNOLOGY, the motto of the Medical Apparatus Organization. "Men in formal wear are required to look dashing, just as all brides are required to look beautiful."

"I'll remember that," Elizabeth said. Radek took her in his arms. When they stood very close, the height disparity seemed to disappear, at least from Radek's point of view. "What about the music choice? Also dashing? Or ridiculous, in this day and age? Hardly anyone knows how to waltz or fox-trot any more."

"Also dashing," Radek said. "Wonderfully old-fashioned."

"Like you," Elizabeth said. "Holding my chair. You put my napkin in my lap."

"Perhaps I exceeded myself there," Radek allowed. "Waiters are supposed to do that, but our waiters also seemed to think that the salad course comes before the entree."

Elizabeth smiled into his eyes. "And you dance. What else can you do?"

"I play the violin," Radek said. "That is to say, I did, when I was a boy. I gave it up while I was at university, for lack of time."

"Ah, so you're accomplished as well. Do you sing?"

"Badly."

Elizabeth settled a little closer as they swayed. She was an excellent dancer who followed his lead easily. "Needlepoint?"

"Only to sew on buttons."

"Ah, so you're domestic. Well, accomplished or not, I must say, I enjoyed having someone make a fuss over me. It certainly turned heads."

Radek tightened his grip on her waist. "You are worth making a fuss over," he said. "And you are a woman who accepts such attentions, which today is quite rare."

"One must be polite," Elizabeth murmured, her cheek brushing his in a gesture that seemed far more than polite.

Radek's heart skipped a beat. "One must," he agreed, pulling her hand to his chest. He wanted nothing more than to stop moving and kiss her again, but he settled for the slow glide of the waltz. He could feel the warmth of her skin underneath the thin silk of her dress.

"You've surprised me today," Elizabeth said, her voice low and intimate in his ear.

"I do not understand how," Radek said. "My job is to make things smooth for you, whether I do it as an executive assistant or as a future husband."

"You're right, of course. I didn't think of it in quite those terms, Dr. Zelenka."

"Elizabeth," he murmured, taken with the sound of his title and name on her lips, and she shut her eyes and leaned against him, letting her body follow his lead. He let himself float with her.

"Elizabeth Weir? And Mr.—er—"

Radek regretfully disengaged himself from Elizabeth and turned to face the man who'd interrupted them. He had no time to panic. He needed to make this good. "Dr. Radek Zelenka," he said crisply, extending his hand and emphasizing his title slightly. "Ah, but I recognize you. You are James Cowen." He turned to the woman to Cowen's right. Cowen was old enough to be her father. Her look of unspoiled innocence was further emphasized by her hair, which she wore in girlish ringlets. "And you are Sora Cowen, of course."

"Of course," Sora said, dimpling. She allowed her hand to be shaken next. "I've met Dr. Weir before, of course, but I don't remember meeting you." She looked at Radek expectantly.

"I work at Atlantis Industries in an executive capacity," Radek said. He smiled at Elizabeth and took her hand. "But I'm here in quite another role tonight—that of Elizabeth's fiancé."

"Fiancé! But how wonderful. Congratulations! Is this recent?"

"Fairly recent, yes," Elizabeth said.

"Your ring—I must see it. I think I saw it sparkling across the room. Oh, how beautiful. Isn't it beautiful, honey?"

"Lovely," Cowen agreed. "Yes, congratulations, Elizabeth."

"Mrs. Cowen, we must let them talk business," Radek said. "Will you dance with me?"

"I'd love to," Sora said promptly.

"I'll collect you in a bit," Radek told Elizabeth. Aware of his audience, he leaned in and gave her a light kiss, which she returned, and she smiled at him so brightly that he was dazzled.

"It's always exciting, weddings," Sora sighed happily as they swung back out onto the dance floor. "Have you set a date?"

"No, not yet," Radek said. "It is the timing, of course. Much rides on the contract we have bid on through Genii—the Pegasus project. Elizabeth is working personally on the bid."

"You're not working with her?"

"To avoid conflict of interest," Radek explained. "I work on another project."

"Ah," Sora said. But instead of asking him about his project, which he expected, she asked instead, "Where are you from? I can't quite place your accent."

"Prague," Radek answered, which was close enough to the truth.

"It must be a very historical city," she said, running one hand along his shoulder and halfway down his chest. "Elizabeth married. I find the very idea—" She trailed off.

"Surprising?" Radek asked.

"Yes, surprising. That's it." Now Sora's hand slid back up, and before Radek quite knew what had happened, her hands were around his neck, fingers teasing the nape of his neck. She leaned up to put her cheek right against his. When Elizabeth had done that, he had felt warmly pleased; when Sora did it, he felt faint distaste. Sora's perfume was a bit too strong. And unlike Elizabeth, who was effortlessly attractive, Sora seemed to work a bit too hard at it. "I thought she was a confirmed bachelor after she broke up with Simon—oh, what's his name—Simon somebody. Simon Wallis, that's it. That was before she did the six months in France—oh, two years ago now. But I see that just as in clothing, she has exquisite taste in men."

Radek bit his tongue. He was being compared to clothing. Then the irony of it struck him: Elizabeth would cast him off like an old dress just as soon as their "engagement" no longer suited her purpose. And who exactly was Simon Wallis? As her secretary, he knew everything about her—who styled her hair, who her masseuse was, who she had lunch with—and yet he had never heard of Simon Wallis. Maybe he didn't know as much as he thought.

"Elizabeth just had to find the right man," Radek said lightly.

"Someone her intellectual equal, certainly," Sora purred. "But true to form, she only dates the most handsome men."

Radek smiled as though beautiful women told him such things every day. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"My husband is quite the fan of marriage," Sora confided, snuggling a little closer. "He says it settles people down."

"I see he is wrong, then." More out of self-preservation than any sense of style, Radek got his arm around Sora and theatrically dipped her. When she came back up, he firmly put her in the proper waltz position. "It does not seem to have settled you down at all."

"Ah, I see you've noticed. Now, Radek—Radek? did I pronounce that correctly? yes?—Now, Radek, I know you're dying to pump me for information about Genii and Co. Go ahead."

"Certainly not," Radek said severely. "I merely wish to enjoy a dance with a beautiful—and married—woman."

Sora smiled. "Ah, I like you. You are not direct. That makes it much, much more fun." She leaned in, her lips close to Radek's ear. "My husband does not have the final word on the winner of the bid. It must go to the board for a full vote. Would you tell Elizabeth for me? For old time's sake? I imagine you tell Elizabeth absolutely everything."

"I do, yes, I do," Radek said. "Everything."

"Good," Sora said, and then both of them were politely clapping because the waltz was over. "Thank you for the dance, Radek," she said, and without a look over her shoulder, she was gone.

Radek blinked after her slim, red-clad form. She'd just flirted outrageously with him. She'd just treated him as though he was important, with something to offer—all because she thought he had Elizabeth. Certainly it wasn't on his own account. He'd just started to exit the dance floor when someone laid a hand on his shoulder. "Dr. Zelenka?" a woman's voice asked, and he turned to face Jane Nisbet, the woman whom Rodney had beaten out for an award. "Excuse me. I'd love this dance, if you don't mind a fox-trot. Are you bidding for the Genii contract?"

"Dr. Nisbet," Radek said. "Nothing could delight me more. I take it your company is bidding?"

***

Radek set a small pile of paperwork down on Elizabeth's desk. After spending an agonizing twenty minutes choosing his suit and settling for his best lightweight worsted-wool one with the faint blue stripe, which went particularly well with his blue-and-red hand-painted silk tie, he'd arrived at work early, to give himself time to calm down and prepare himself for seeing Elizabeth the day after their debut together as a couple. Everyone had agreed that it had gone very well, and John reported that the only people who weren't buzzing about the news were people they didn't care about anyway. He'd spent extra time on his hair as well, and he definitely hadn't skipped shaving. He had never shaved daily, mostly because he didn't need to until he was in his mid-twenties, and by then, the habit of shaving only every second day or so had become ingrained.

But despite all his care, Elizabeth had made it unexpectedly easy for him: she'd breezed in twenty minutes ago, wearing a stunning burgundy suit and two-inch black pumps, and she'd greeted him just as usual before shutting herself in her office. She'd barely looked at him, and when she'd buzzed him, she'd been crisp and businesslike. All Radek had to do was follow her lead. It was surprisingly easy, and falling into their familiar habits certainly made it easier to breathe. But then again, he reasoned, she didn't know how he felt; and she certainly didn't return his regard.

Radek tapped the paperwork. "The expected faxes arrived from Bonn," he said. "It is all in order. And several phone messages await you from James Cowen." He handed her two pink phone message slips.

"Thank you, Radek," Elizabeth said, opening the top folder. As she flipped through the fax pages, her ring sparkled. Radek's eye was drawn to it, but not because of its brilliance. She hadn't taken it off. "Please write an agenda for today's nine o'clock meeting and e-mail it to the participants. I'll call James Cowen back after the meeting."

"Certainly," Radek said, who had already written the e-mail and was holding it until told to release it.

"We need to debrief after yesterday's event," Elizabeth continued.

"I spoke with Dr. Nisbet, and her company, Alliance Atlantis, is bidding as well," Radek said. He wasn't on the agenda for the meeting. He was never on the agenda for the meeting, except to read back minutes or to amplify points.

"Mmm. I'm not surprised." Elizabeth closed the folder and opened the next one. "Still, it's good to have confirmation. Every little bit of information helps."

"And Mrs. Cowen particularly wished me to tell you something."

Finally, he had her complete attention. "Oh?"

"She said that the board must approve the bid, that it was not Mr. Cowen's complete decision, as we have been assuming."

Elizabeth pushed the folders away. "Now, that is interesting," she said slowly. "Very, very interesting, don't you think?"

"Yes, I do," Radek said. "It certainly implies that Mr. Cowen's power base is not what it once was, and in a privately held company like Genii, such a loss of power must be deeply felt."

"If Mr. Cowen's power is waning, someone else's must be waxing," Elizabeth said. "Do you have any ideas, Radek?"

Radek was taken aback. She rarely solicited his opinion, and when she did, it was more along the line of entrees for a reception, or preferred airplane seating choices. "Me, Dr. Weir?" he asked.

"After last night, I think it's clear that I've underestimated how much attention you pay to the business of the company as a whole, as opposed to my business in particular." She gestured. "I invite you to give me your thoughts."

Radek hesitated, until he saw that any further hesitation would be perceived by Elizabeth, who valued directness, as coy. "Acastus Kolya," he said decisively. "His background in corporate raiding indicates that he takes the most direct route to power, regardless of the cost. For him, no victory is Pyrrhic."

Elizabeth gave a half-laugh. "I like that description of him—very apt," she said. "I'll make a few calls, see what I can find out." She tapped at her computer keyboard, calling up her contact list.

"Dr. Weir. About last night."

"It was a huge success, Radek, thanks to you," she said, without turning to look at him. "You played your role beautifully. I hope that when I do get engaged, it will be to someone half as solicitous as you."

Radek struggled for words. "I hope that—that I did not offend you with unwelcome attentions," he said, remembering, as he remembered whenever his mind wandered, the kiss, the tender sensation of her fingers against his lips. "Mr. Sheppard impressed on me the necessity of its seeming real—for Mr. Cowen's benefit."

"Not at all, Radek, and it's kind of you to put yourself at my disposal. If we win the bid, our 'engagement' will need to be extended." Elizabeth looked around as a polite knock came on her half-open door. "Yes, John?" she said, looking right past Radek, and Radek realized that once again, he was invisible. Yesterday, he thought he'd caught her interest—but yesterday, he'd been in black tie, exotic and attentive. Today, to her eyes, at least, he wore his usual suit and handed her paperwork. She didn't know that because he'd kissed her yesterday, nothing was the same today. And today, he called her Dr. Weir instead of Elizabeth, and she called him Radek instead of Dr. Zelenka.

"Elizabeth, we have a big problem. A big, big problem." John came into the room. "Radek, if you'd excuse us."

"Certainly," Radek murmured, surprised and concerned. Radek was Elizabeth's confidential secretary; there was nothing about her business matters that he did not know. He'd never been summarily dismissed before. He faded out of the room, closing the door behind him. He sat at his luxuriously large mahogany desk and, quashing his unease at John's demeanor, sent out the agenda e-mail.

Then, before he could stop himself, he launched a browser and visited a few industry Web pages. To his horror—or was it to his delight?—there were indeed pictures of him and Elizabeth together as a couple. His name was spelled correctly on two of them and misspelled in three. His name was not up on Atlantis's Web site, so those who spelled it correctly must have called the front desk and obtained his name from the receptionist. One of those companies, he noted, was Genii. The picture most had up was of him solicitously seating Elizabeth after she had presented the high-tech award. One picture in particular caught his interest: Elizabeth was looking up at him as he smiled down at her, hands on the back of her chair. They really did look like a happy couple. And, Radek thought a little bitterly, the photo had the advantage of making him appear much taller than Elizabeth. Another photo showed the two of them dancing. He hadn't been aware that his gazing into her eyes had been so overt, or that his own happiness was so transparent. Anybody looking at any of the pictures had to think that they were deeply in love. He touched the image of Elizabeth wearing her beautiful gold dress. To her, it had only been a ploy. No matter how heartfelt his feelings, she would remain convinced that he had been acting. She didn't have to say it—her cold, professional demeanor today told him everything. He sighed and saved all the pictures to his hard drive, zipped them, and e-mailed them to his personal e-mail account.

John still hadn't come out of Elizabeth's office. Radek dealt with some routine matters, only returning to his computer when it beeped at him. To his surprise, he saw that the e-mail he had just sent had bounced. When he viewed the header information, he saw that his work account was invalid. He muttered in Czech. That was odd. He tried again, then checked his account, and again, it bounced. A few more tries to other addresses led him to do some quick hacking, which settled it: his work e-mail account had been disabled. His intranet access had been suspended. He couldn't log into the project's server. And nobody had told him.

A sick foreboding settled in the pit of his stomach. Something was terribly wrong. Radek's hands shook as he turned back to his desk. He would set out the rest of the work for the day. When two members of security came into his office twenty minutes later, he was composed and ready. He stood up just as Elizabeth and John opened the door.

"You are suspended," Elizabeth said, her voice coldly angry. "The only reason you are not fired is because John talked me out of it until we can launch an enquiry. Leave your keycard."

Radek pulled it from his pocket and lay it on his desk. "Your agenda for today is settled," he said. "You'll find it arranged here in order."

"Radek." Elizabeth was more than angry. She was in a rage, splotches of color reddening her cheekbones. "When I think—yesterday—you danced with me—you complimented me—and the whole time—"

Radek let the security officers flank him. He was to be escorted out like a criminal. "I do not know what you think I have done," he said. "All I know is that my e-mail address has been disabled and my security clearance has been withdrawn. You must believe me, Elizabeth." Her name came out before he could help himself. "You must believe me when I tell you that none of it was a lie. None of it. I am completely loyal—to you personally, and to Atlantis."

He couldn't say more. He would betray himself. But he saw that she wasn't listening.

"Get him out of my sight," Elizabeth snapped, turning on her heel, and Radek was led away.

***

Rodney stuck his chopsticks in the mostly empty carton of shrimp-fried rice. "Okay, good, good, we're in," he told Radek, staring at his laptop screen. He'd set his laptop up next to Radek's desktop in Radek's home office. "Your electronic fingerprints were all over that data leak. So let's do a little tracing."

"I cannot thank you enough, Dr. McKay—" Radek began.

Rodney waved at him impatiently. "Don't be an idiot, Radek," he said. "I think you're innocent, that's all, because there's no way you would be that stupid. What, like you wanted to get caught doing some corporate espionage on the side? Like you weren't capable of doing the deed without getting caught? I mean, if you really wanted to screw us, you could screw us silly. So to speak."

"Still, for you to use your security clearance in such a way…it is most kind of you."

"Huh," Rodney grunted, eyeing him. "Well, this is a nice change from the usual, when I tell you what I need and you tell me why it's impossible and why I'm an idiot for not seeing it your way."

Radek said defensively, "Well, in those cases, I am right and you are wrong, and in this case, you are right and I am not permitted to have an opinion."

"Yes, yes, yes. Thank you very much. Okay, port 6696. I enabled it. Have you got it? Are you in?"

Radek tapped at his desktop's keyboard. "Yes, yes, I am in."

"You don't need my security clearance. You could have done this yourself," Rodney said, letting the words hang.

Radek looked at Rodney out of the corner of his eye. "No," he said simply.

"Because?"

"Because I need a witness. I cannot hack to declare my innocence when it is thought that I hacked previously."

"Good point, yes, good point." Rodney opened a new screen. "You and Elizabeth caught someone's attention last night. It must have given someone ideas. And I have to say, I was very, very impressed with your acting abilities. You had me convinced that you and Elizabeth were headed for the altar."

"Thank you," Radek said repressively.

"Anything you want to tell me?"

"No."

"Fine." They worked together for a while in silence, backtracking the data stream from its ostensible source—Radek's administrator account, which granted privileges for Elizabeth's entire project group. Rodney finally burst out with, "Because last night—you looked really good, and I think I wasn't the only one who realized that I hadn't paid attention to how—uh—how—how handsome you are."

Radek, surprised, looked at Rodney, who was completely focused on his computer screen. Was it his imagination, or was Rodney's face a little pink?

"Of course, you have to take my taste in men into account," Rodney added hastily. "And don't get me wrong. John and me—John and me—you have nothing to fear on my account, but—well, anyway, I really had the feeling that Elizabeth was seeing you in a new light. I mean, if you wanted her to see you in a new light. You know. If you were wondering about that. If that was really the case. With the light."

"Yes," said Radek faintly. He wasn't following Rodney's line of reasoning, but Rodney was much better at his job than at having conversations of a personal nature.

"I need a Coke. Is there any more Coke?" Rodney said. "I need caffeine."

"I think so. I will go see."

Radek, relieved, left Rodney in his study and entered his kitchen. As he pulled a Coke out of the refrigerator and poured its contents into a glass of ice, he realized that it was one thing if John knew he was in love with Elizabeth. John was subtle. John understood nuance. John noticed what was going on around him. Rodney, on the other hand, was anything but. He had to be bludgeoned over the head before he saw anything, other than his own work, when he tended to be the one doing the bludgeoning. Apparently, practically the only one who didn't realize that he was in love with Elizabeth was Elizabeth herself. But Elizabeth thought he was a corporate traitor, betrayed by him to Sora Cowen—because it was to Sora Cowen that the hidden data stream had been directed, albeit through a circuitous route. Luckily, an alert systems administrator had noticed a slowdown in the network (he had been playing DOOM online over the Internet during the night shift while keeping an eye on things, thus placing him in the perfect position to notice such a slowdown) and had stopped the information packet before it had transmitted more than a third of the data from the Pegasus project. Otherwise, the entire transaction would have gone completely unnoticed. It had been cleverly hidden underneath a normal off-hours data transfer to the Bonn headquarters.

"Radek! Get in here!" Rodney bellowed, and Radek hastened to his office.

"Here you are," Radek said, placing the icy Coke near Rodney. "You have had good luck?" He peered over Rodney's shoulder.

"Come on, hurry up. Get on your computer and find out who owns this domain name, would you? I'm sure it's aliased. We'll have to track it."

Radek, heart beating a little faster as he took in the data on his screen, started his research as Rodney continued untangling the layers of encryption. They were close.

The relief he felt made him realize that it wasn't his innocence he was worried about. They could deport him tomorrow—he didn't care. Rather, he wanted to regain Elizabeth's regard. That meant more to him than anything.

***

"—so Acastus Kolya and Sora Cowen are working together?" Elizabeth asked in disbelief.

"Her husband is losing favor," John said, snuggling into Rodney's side. All of them were crowded in the back of the limo: Elizabeth, Radek, John, Rodney, Carson, Teyla, and of course Ronon, who was as uncommunicative as usual. "Kolya is the rising star. And I don't think Sora is quite as married to Cowen as she's married to someone powerful."

"It was really very clever, really very well done," Rodney said. "But not clever enough. They had to move fast to hit us before the bid—too fast. I mean, the bid presentations were only scheduled last Friday. They probably had to take some shortcuts. Anyway, I was able to track it, and I'm positive they're up to something. John, for god's sake, quit squishing me."

"Sorry," John said, not moving. "With the information they stole about our project, they wouldn't have to put it out to bid—it would save them literally billions of dollars."

Rodney stretched an arm along the seat behind John in an attempt to give himself room. "I gave Jane Nisbet from Alliance Atlantis a heads up, and she's looking for data leaks from last night too. I wouldn't be surprised if all the bidders had been hacked."

"I have an appointment with the state attorney general," Carson put in. "Our chief counsel will meet me there. Rodney, you're to come with us, because you can explain it, and of course you have the proof."

Elizabeth stirred next to Radek. "I managed to swing an appointment with James Cowen, but he wasn't happy, because we're scheduled to make our bid today at four and he didn't know what couldn't wait."

"Why Radek, though?" John asked. "I don't get the Radek thing—no offense, Radek. Why try to implicate him?"

"I can think of two reasons," Radek said, and Rodney, who had inhaled to speak, exhaled without saying a word. Everyone looked at Radek. "First, I am the system administrator for Elizabeth's—for Dr. Weir's group. I have all the privileges and the master passwords. So if one were to hack, it would be easiest to hack that account, although it is the most heavily encrypted, because breaking it would release all the data, rather than part of it. We did find evidence that Dr. Weir's personal project account had been accessed, so I believe they sought to use that account first, then changed their minds after we arrived at the party together."

"And the second reason?" Elizabeth prompted. She hadn't apologized to Radek after she'd had him thrown out of Atlantis headquarters, but to his relief, she was no longer furious with him—thanks to Rodney's intercession.

"Second is our engagement," he said. Elizabeth flushed a little and looked down. She was still wearing the ring. "If by an off chance we should notice the data transfer, which we did, then in addition to corporate embarrassment would be Dr. Weir's personal embarrassment at such a betrayal—giving her more reason to cover it up, thus delaying any real look into what had happened. My username is based on my last name, so of course they knew the account was mine."

"Still, our position is clear," Elizabeth said. "This espionage is completely unacceptable. And a company with Acastus Kolya in charge is not a company I care do to business with. Carson agrees with me."

"Aye, that I do," Carson said as the limo pulled up to Genii's corporate headquarters, housed in a glass modern building. "It's clear Kolya is staging a coup. Elizabeth, we may see you there. If we don't, please call me on my cell when you're done."

As Elizabeth nodded, the limo's door opened, and Ronon got out. "Radek, you're coming with me," Elizabeth said.

Radek blinked at her. "I beg your pardon?" he asked.

"We must present a united front. To James Cowen, we are engaged, after all." She peered out the door. "Ronon?"

"All clear," Ronon grunted.

"Come on." Elizabeth slid out.

Radek took a deep breath and followed as Elizabeth strode through the front doors. They had to wait, then sign in at security, submit to a metal detector test, and be accompanied to the elevator banks. They had been detained an hour before they were allowed up, even though they had an appointment. James Cowen apparently had no interest in smoothing their way. When the elevator doors slid shut and the three of them were finally alone, Elizabeth said, very quietly, "Radek, I am so sorry. I am so very, very sorry. I should have known you would never do such a thing. I embarrassed you in front of the entire sixteenth floor yesterday by having you escorted out."

"Elizabeth, please," Radek managed. He snuck a peek at Ronon, who, arms crossed, was intently watching the red numbers change. As usual, Ronon pretended to be deaf. "This is not…it is not necessary."

Elizabeth folded her hands in front of her. "It is. I think it is. You have always treated me with professionalism and courtesy, and I repaid you badly. I didn't give you the benefit of the doubt. I was too angry. I took it personally. After—after last night, I thought—I came to think—"

Radek's heart filled even as he felt a tinge of panic. It sounded dangerously like she had pierced his secret. He couldn't bear it if she said, "I came to think you were in love with me, but I can't return your feelings. I hope you understand." Luckily, just then, the elevator doors opened. "Remember, we are engaged," he said as he offered her his arm, and he stiffened his spine and broadened his walk to a confident stride as they headed for Cowen's office door.

"Elizabeth!" Sora Cowen called from down the hall. She ran a little to catch up with them. "Have you been summoned too? I just got a request from James for a little meeting, and so did Acastus. Do you know anything about it?" She didn't wait for a response. "Radek, how pleasant to see you again." Before Radek could acknowledge her, she took his free arm and tucked herself close. She wore a vivid blue suit, closely cut to show off her curves, and her ringlets had been pulled back into a careless bun. "And your bodyguard, as usual. I think you took that death threat just a touch too seriously."

"I take all death threats seriously," Elizabeth said evenly. "As does Atlantis Industries. I'm afraid they insist that Ronon go everywhere with me."

"Darling!" Sora said, letting go of Radek's arm as Cowen beckoned them all into his office. Radek gave Elizabeth's hand a squeeze and let her go through next. Kolya, leaning against a large desk, was waiting for them. Radek recognized him, although they had never met, but he was taken aback at both Kolya's hulking size and his threatening demeanor, which he made no attempt to temper.

"Well, we are all three here, Elizabeth," Cowen said, still a trace of Irish in his accent despite his years in the States. "Acastus, Sora, and I. What couldn't wait until your bid tonight?"

"We will not be bidding," Elizabeth said. "And I rather doubt that Alliance Atlantis, United Automation, or Medical GM will be either."

"Really," Cowen said, dropping into the large leather chair behind his expansive desk. Radek thought he sounded more amused than anything.

"Really," Elizabeth said. "We discovered that late Tuesday night, after the banquet, our system was hacked, and some highly confidential and proprietary information was partially downloaded. Luckily, we caught it and shut it down before it could all be transmitted."

"How unfortunate," Cowen said.

"Yes, very," Elizabeth said. "Radek?"

Radek looked up. He hadn't expected to address anyone. He resisted the urge to shift nervously. He was the confident executive today, he reminded himself, the fiancé of the CEO and someone personally involved in this sordid affair. "My account was apparently used to transmit information to Mrs. Cowen," he said.

"Me!" Sora said, with every evidence of surprise.

"With the help of Dr. McKay, I was able to track the source," Radek said.

"My fiancé is something of a computer wizard in his own right," Elizabeth interjected.

Radek continued, "Our evidence indicates that Acastus Kolya—or someone who works for him—through a shell company he co-owns with Mrs. Cowen, set up three months ago, hacked our system."

"I don't understand—" Sora began, but Radek refused to be interrupted. Instead, he pulled some folded sheets of paper from his inside breast pocket and extended them to Cowen, saying, "I believe you should examine these. Dates, money transfers through the Cayman Islands, computer access logs, cell phone call logs, bank account numbers and balances—I think you will find it interesting reading." As Cowen took them, clearly stunned, Radek added, "We did not always use the most…legal ways of getting this information. I do admit that. This document will not hold up in court. However, I thought you would find it very interesting."

"I do," Cowen said, looking up from the document. "Very, very interesting."

"Of course," Radek continued smoothly, "without our extra layer of research, Genii and Co. is unfortunately implicated. The first layer of the shell company links back to Manara Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Genii and Co. Genii's innocence in this matter is far from assured. I think you will have to go to some trouble to corroborate this information, but if you have someone who can work through more…er, unofficial channels…"

"Yes, I see." Cowen tucked the documents into his own jacket. To Radek's eye, he seemed calm. "Kolya? Sora? Nothing to say?"

Kolya, who hadn't said a word during the whole interview, crossed his arms. After a long second, Sora said, voice trembling slightly, "But of course you must…you must corroborate it, as soon as possible. It will prove our innocence."

"I'll do that," Cowen said. "But it does strike me as odd—perhaps it will strike you as odd as well, Kolya—that it was about three months ago that I found trouble catching the ear of certain board members who had always been willing to make time for me before."

Kolya did nothing more than grunt.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Elizabeth," Cowen said.

"I'm afraid I brought more than just this news," Elizabeth said. Just then, Cowen's phone buzzed, and a woman's voice, high and nervous, said, "Mr. Cowen, are you there?" Elizabeth continued, "I'm afraid we at Atlantis Industries take a very dim view of corporate espionage and hacking. I believe you'll find that the police are here, along with the state attorney general and a subpoena to search the premises."

Cowen lifted the receiver of the phone, eyes never leaving Elizabeth's face. "Cowen here," he said. There was a long pause as he listened. "Yes, of course let them in. Let them look at whatever they like. Give them whatever access they like. Genii must cooperate fully." He placed the receiver in the cradle very gently. "The state attorney general is here with an entourage," he said. He put his hands on the table and stood up heavily. "Kolya," he hissed. "Sora—"

Whatever he had been going to say was lost when Kolya, uttering a sound like an enraged bear, leapt for Elizabeth. Radek finally saw firsthand why Ronon had been hired. Just before Kolya reached her, Ronon tackled him from the side. As Radek watched, aghast, the two men wrestled for dominance. For a moment, Kolya seemed to have the upper hand as he grabbed Ronon's long dreadlocks and smashed his head repeatedly into the hand-tied, pure wool Oriental rug. Then Ronon elbowed Kolya's side, sending him reeling, and Ronon had him in a headlock—but not for long. Kolya easily flung him aside, and Ronon stumbled back.

"Zmrde zkurvenej, neser me!" Radek yelled, seeing his chance. He leapt onto Kolya's back, hooked an elbow around his throat, and squeezed hard. "Posera!"

"Radek!" Elizabeth said, no doubt shocked at his language. "No!"

"Hey!" Ronon bellowed. He hauled off and punched Kolya in the stomach, and when Kolya doubled over in agony, Ronon plucked Radek off Kolya's back. "I don't need help," he said politely, to Radek's amazement, who had never heard such a long speech from him. "Thanks anyway."

A moment later, Kolya was face-down on the Oriental rug with Ronon sitting on him, holding Kolya's arms pinned behind him; police were crowding the room; and a well-dressed woman with short, neat gray hair, who turned out to be the state attorney general, took everyone, including Radek, into custody.

***

"Thank you for meeting with me," Radek said, pushing in Elizabeth's chair as she scooted forward, then seating himself across from her.

"I'm happy to," Elizabeth said, looking around the restaurant with interest. Radek had selected an upscale Italian place in his neighborhood.

"I ordered a bottle of Nero d'Avola," Radek said, holding up the bottle. "The owner's sister runs a winery in Sicily, and it is their work. Would you like to try it? I find it a bit strong alone, but quite good with food."

"Thank you—maybe a taste," Elizabeth said, and Radek poured her a little. She didn't look at him as she lifted her glass and sipped. "Mmm," she said, lifting her eyebrows. "Full-bodied? Is that the term?"

"Perhaps a bottle of white," Radek said, but before he could signal the server, Elizabeth set her hand on his forearm, stopping him.

"It's delicious. It's just the thing with ravioli. I saw on the way in that that's their special today."

"Yes," Radek said, pleased, and he filled her glass when she slid it toward him.

"I won't even look at the menu." Elizabeth shook out her napkin and settled it in her lap. "I always get caught up in all the evocative descriptions of food and can never make up my mind. Better to get the special, particularly when it sounds so good."

"I thought I would have the veal piccata," Radek observed. "If you like dessert, the cassata are good."

"I'll save room," Elizabeth said. She fiddled with a fork. "We miss you at the office," she ventured. "When you phoned me last week and told me to let your suspension stand, I wasn't sure what to think. And even though I think I'm a model of organization and good sense—don't laugh—I have to admit that everything has fallen into chaos. The executive assistant who's temping is useless, so I'm trying to poach someone from Legal until you come back." She looked at him. "Are you coming back?"

"No," Radek admitted.

Elizabeth reached for the fresh bread, ripped off a slice, and dipped it into peppered olive oil. "I was afraid that that was what you were going to tell me tonight," she said. "I was—I was very much hoping that it wouldn't be the case." She took a bite of bread. "Do you need to stay on the books for a while?" she offered. "After all you've done, it's the least Atlantis can do. I know that you need to stay employed to maintain your legal status."

"That is most kind. No, that won't be necessary. I thought I would return to Prague. I should have little trouble securing a teaching appointment at the university. I still have friends in the physics department. It will be nice to be employed within my field again." Radek looked up as their server approached. "Vedette," he greeted her.

"Dr. Zelenka," she said. "Your lady is here, I see."

"Yes," Radek said, his heart leaping a little at the phrase "your lady." "Elizabeth, perhaps you would like to order for us—your Italian is so much better than mine." Radek's was limited to food terms.

"Of course." Radek thought Elizabeth was surprised and a little flattered. He followed about a third of the exchange that followed, which began with the order, but he lost them when it turned into a proper conversation, and when Vedette walked away, laughing, he had the feeling he'd been the topic. "Charming," Elizabeth said. "Well, let me give you an update on what's happened this last week." She items off on her fingers as she listed them. "Kolya and the Cowens are out on bail. All of them have had their passports taken into court custody so they can't leave the country. James Cowen has filed for divorce. The board of directors of Genii has voted Cowen out and someone named Riordan in. And we found out that the espionage was a preamble to driving Cowen out of power, going forward with the Pegasus project without having it go to bid, and then arranging an IPO at the wildly inflated prices on the media circus certain to follow. Then they would crash the company and sell out."

"Very complex," Radek said, thinking of fluid dynamics. It seemed much the same.

Elizabeth took another bite of bread. "Not really," she said. "Rodney also told me that you were instrumental in writing some of his software."

Radek shifted uncomfortably. "Yes," he admitted. "We could not say—my security clearance. He was careful to track it all and to give me only partial code, in case it came out, to protect us both. He really is the author. I just gave him some…insights."

Elizabeth shook her head. "You continually surprise me, and then I don't know why I'm surprised," she said. "I think what I'm most surprised about is that you worked as my confidential executive assistant for two years and seemed content with that."

Radek dropped his eyes. He'd started the job because he needed the work, and he'd stayed because he needed Elizabeth. Maybe it was time he told her that.

"I've spent the last two years on this project," she continued. "Now it's completely trashed, the whole thing. I have no idea what to do with myself. I know what I should do—interest myself in another project, or move to another company as a fixup artist, or—or something."

"Prague is nice," Radek suggested.

"Is that an invitation?" Elizabeth asked lightly.

"Of course," he said promptly. "I can play tour guide." He caught sight of her left hand. "You still wear the ring," he said, taking her hand before he thought, but continuing to hold it when she didn't pull away.

"I like it," she said defensively as he shifted the stone gently with his thumb, centering it.

"Ah, then perhaps you will like this one better." He released her hand and dug in a pocket. "I cashed in some stock options," he explained as he opened the black velvet box. He took a ring from it, a twin to the ring she wore. "In this one, the stone is genuine." He removed the fake ring and placed the real one on her finger. This one caught the light as the other one did not, flashing richly on her hand. "I did think you liked it," he told her.

"I do, very much," she said, and he realized she was blushing. "Radek, I can't accept this. It's far—it's just far too much."

"It suits you. You will keep it to remember our engagement by, with my very best wishes for your happiness," he said, his heart squeezing. He wished it could be a real engagement, but she was his boss, and he was her secretary, always quiet, always in the background. He'd been wrong to read so much into her response to his kiss—as he'd learned the next day at work, when she once again became unapproachably cold. "You can move it to your right hand later." He placed the original ring, the one with the fake stone, in the box, snapped it shut, and pushed it across to her. "You should return this to Atlantis. They will want their money back."

"I'll do that," Elizabeth said faintly. "Radek, I—I—"

"Yes?" he said when she subsided.

She took a deep breath. "I can't take the ring," she said. "When you kissed me in the lobby, I thought—I came to think—and then we were dancing at the reception after the banquet—when we waltzed—I hadn't realized, until I saw you in your tuxedo—I hadn't realized that you had meant so much to me, and when you smiled at Sora—you flirted with her—I knew it then."

Radek puzzled through her words as his heart began to swell with hope.

"I think I was actually jealous—jealous of Sora Cowen!" Elizabeth continued. "And of course there was that ridiculous display in James Cowen's office, where you tried to take down Kolya—you half his size, coming to my rescue. That's when I knew, because I was so afraid Kolya would hit you, or kill you, or—or something." She slid the ring off her finger and set it on the table. "It would hurt me too much to see it, knowing you're going away forever, just when I'd realized how much you mean to me. And this last week, with you not there—I could barely stand to go into the office. I know—I know I'm your boss, and I know I'm—I'm unapproachable, but." She bit her lip, then looked him right in the eye. "But I'm in love with you. So I can't take the ring."

Radek opened his mouth, stunned.

"I should—I should go," Elizabeth said, setting her napkin beside her fork and leaning down for her handbag. "I know you don't—you couldn't—but when you said that none of it was a lie, none of it, I thought—I hoped—I don't know what I thought. And hoping seems pretty futile. I'm not making any sense. Excuse me."

"Elizabeth, please don't go," Radek said, finally finding words. "Please. Stay and—and eat dinner."

"You don't understand," Elizabeth said, and Radek was shocked to see tears in her eyes. "I can't bear it. I depend on you and you're leaving. You're going back to Prague."

"Because I knew I couldn't have you," Radek burst out. "Elizabeth, I have loved you for two years. I have loved you since France. I have stayed for your sake." He picked up the ring. "I only dreamed you could wear it as my fiancee," he said, putting it back on her finger. He pulled her unresisting hand to his lips and kissed it, just as he had when she had first seen him in black tie. "But if that is the only way you will wear it, then I ask you now to marry me."

She stared at him, utterly speechless. "Oh," she managed.

"Prague—Paris—Los Angeles—wherever you like, we will live," he continued. "Prague has the benefit, or perhaps the drawback, of my mother. I suggest we marry before you meet her, because one of two things will happen." Elizabeth had started to laugh as she wiped tears from her eyes. "First, she will so frighten you that you will decline to marry me. Second, she will plan the entire wedding from beginning to end and you will not be able to live in peace for the six months required to set all the details."

"Then we'd better get married at once," Elizabeth said.

"That was my thought."

"I have stock options, too, you know," Elizabeth added. "Quite a few. Enough to buy an estate outside Prague, and an apartment in Paris."

Radek grinned at her. "My French is good, but my Spanish is better."

"Barcelona, then," Elizabeth said instantly. "I have an idea to start a company. I happen to know a few brilliant scientists, and I have some great connections in industry."

"So you say yes, Elizabeth? You say you will marry me?" Radek said, heart soaring.

Elizabeth squeezed his hand. "I say yes, Dr. Zelenka. I say I will marry you."

When Vedette brought their entrees a minute or so later, she was surprised to see Radek Zelenka kneeling by his pretty lady, kissing her. She had not thought the man to be so demonstrative in such matters. Vedette approved, of course: the lady's Italian was quite good. As Vedette returned the food to the kitchen, to be brought out at a more appropriate time, she thought that it was true: the quiet ones always surprised you.