Evangeline Allerton. Eva, for those lucky few who managed to break her shell. A shell most people would never break. A shell most people would never see past, or even now it was just a shell. A perfect, polished and well-kept shell. Evangeline could be described, almost generously, as boring. Her name was boring, her clothes were boring, even her job was boring.<br/>Being the private secretary of an old business man, after all, is not exactly eventful. Yet, under that perfectly polished and again, boring facade there was a real woman. A real woman who, unfortunately, didn't have the chance to exercise what made her a woman - her desires, usually buried under layers of good and proper behavior.<br/>That was just another boring and uneventful night in her small apartment. A phone call to the mother, feeding the cat, watching the midnight news, and finally to bed.<br/>A night like any other. But not exactly. There was something wrong. Not outside, but on the inside. A yearning for something not even Eva herself could define. For something different. Something more.<br/>Those thoughts were the probable cause of her dreams that night. Evangeline's dreams were usually pretty plain. A simple repetition of the every day life. Not the ones in that particular night. They were... special. All  her buried desires found their way into her dreams, giving them color, taste and the rich scent that had drawn Scorpio's attention.