Author's Note: This follows along from the stories I've already done. Setting is post "Father's Day." In a tribute to the EH world created by Lattelady, Rachel still has a fondness for lacy silk undergarments and Jacob is sitll playing poker with the movers and shakers in DC.
Disclaimer: Fair use. Not impinging on anyone's property for gain.
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It was the end of a long and boring week. The closest they came to a case was a call coming in from a biotech lab in Pasadena. It seemed that one of their viruses had developed an interesting mutation. Several white lab rats had lost a great deal of fur; when it grew back they were polka dotted. Rachel and Felix immediately perked up, a case in Southern California? But Hood, shaking his head, had settled the matter with one phone call. "Damn Cal Tech student pranks," he muttered. So it was with great relief that both Felix and Rachel were watching the clock in Hood's lab tick closer to 5:00 p.m.
"So," Rachel inquired idly. "Any plans for this weekend?"
"Nah, nothing much," Felix replied. "How about you two?"
He shook his head at Rachel's glare. "What? No one's in here but us. Besides, you're his handler, in charge of his schedule; why shouldn't you know if the Doc was busy this weekend?"
Rachel smiled an apology. "I'm sorry; I guess I'm a little paranoid."
Jacob snorted from the corner where he was working on some lab notes.
Rachel frowned in his general direction and turned back to Felix. She hesitated. She tried to not think of herself and Jacob as a couple whenever they were working. But it was hard and the longer they were together the harder it became. And this was Felix she was talking to, it's not like they were hiding their relationship from him. Hell, when they got married, he was a witness. Before she could answer the door burst open and the Director entered followed by a younger man.
"I told you she'd be in here!" Frank exclaimed. He pointed to the younger man. "Jacob, Agent Lee, this is Agent Walsh. Walsh here is our liaison with the Joint Chiefs, just finished briefing me, and, well, your names came up. Turns out Walsh here knows Young." He turned to her inquiringly.
"Ah, yes sir, umm, we were at Quantico together." She turned to the younger man. "Walsh, I mean, Kevin, it's good to see you again."
"Absolutely, Rachel. It's been what, almost two years since we ran into each other?"
"Oh, at least," Rachel agreed.
You know, we should get together, like we talked about, give us a chance to catch up?"
"That would be great, Kevin. Why don't you give me a call and we can set something up."
"How about tonight? Are you free? We could have dinner."
Racehl smiled, "I'd love too, but I'm afraid I'm on duty tonight. No rest for the wicked in the EPD you know."
"No you're not."
Rachel looked at the Director in shock. "I'm not?"
Frank turned to his old friend with a look of exasperation on his face. "Jacob, don't tell me you forgot about tonight?"
Jacob's face showed his dismay. "I hate to admit it, but I did." He looked at Rachel. "Yeah, I forgot that tonight's poker night. The game is the last Friday of every month; I usually sit in when we're, err, when I'm in town."
"And," finished Frank with satisfaction, "since he'll be under my security umbrella; you can have the night off. Go ahead," he urged, "take Walsh up on his offer." He smiled at Rachel avuncularly.
"Come on, Rachel," Walsh coaxed, "a buddy had reservations for tonight at Agora, he got called out of town and handed them off to me; I'd hate to have to go alone."
Rachel's eyes widened slightly at the name of one of the hottest new restaurants in DC. Mentally cursing the Director, Walsh, and men in general, she forced a smile to her face. "I'd love to Kevin, it sounds great."
"Terrific," said Walsh happily. "The reservation is for 8:00, how about I pick up at 7:30?"
Rachel silently looked at the Director, who grinned. "That'll work." He turned to Jacob, "I'll pick you up about the same time; we can grab something to eat on the way."
"Fine." Rachel grabbed a piece of paper from the desk and scribbled down her address and cell phone number and handed them to Walsh. "I'll see you then."
With a valedictory wave of his hand, the Director ushered Walsh from the room. Rachel tuned to find Jacob and Felix staring at her. Jacob's face was carefully blank while Felix's lips were pursed disapprovingly.
Rachel flushed. "What? What else could I have said?"
"I don't know ma'am, but..."
Jacob cut him off. "Felix, I think Rachel and I need to discuss this privately."
Belatedly realizing that he was in the middle of very uncomfortable situation, Felix swallowed. "Uh, yeah, you're right Doc. I'll say goodnight, see you both Monday." With that, he thankfully slipped out the door.
Rachel opened her mouth, but Jacob held up a hand. "No, not here."
They made their way from the lab to the underground garage in the Hoover Building. Even after they achieved the relative privacy of the SUV, Rachel stared stubbornly ahead.
Jacob looked over at her, "Well, I've heard that married couples are supposed to have date nights. I didn't realize that meant you going on a date with someone else."
Rachel exploded. "Honestly Jacob, you had better not give me any shit about this. You know this is your fault."
"My fault?" Jacob's voice scaled up a notch. "How in the hell is this my fault? It's my fault that you couldn't form the simple words, 'no, thank you?'"
"If you had remembered, had bothered to tell me about this stupid poker game, I wouldn't have used you as an excuse for turning down Walsh." She glared at Jacob. "What was I supposed to say, do? I'd already implied that the only reason I couldn't go out with him was because I was working. Then the Director informs me that I've got no plans for the night and practically orders me to go out with that guy?"
"I don't know, surely you could have come up with something? Said you needed some down time after a hard week?"
Rachel snorted. "Like that wouldn't have made the Director suspicious? He knows full well that I've spent the week sitting on my ass watching you play with test tubes and doing paperwork. If anything, a week like this one would make me more eager to go out."
"I was not playing with test tubes! I'm sorry you find my work so boring. But it's not my fault you can't think under pressure. Couldn't you have said…"
"What, something like, 'oh, I don't think my husband would appreciate my going out to dinner with you?'" Her voice softened. "It's one dinner. I'm just going out to dinner with a colleague, catching up on old times."
"He's hardly an old friend," Jacob ground out. "I don't think Walsh is looking at it as dinner with a colleague, I saw the way he was looking at you."
Rachel folded her lips together and the rest of the drive was made in silence. Rachel parked the SUV in the garage in their apartment building and they walked without talking to the elevator. Jacob only spoke when he saw that Rachel had pushed the button for the floor of her apartment.
"Why are you stopping there?" Jacob frowned.
Rachel turned to him, her face stony. "I am attempting to make the best of a bad situation. I'm going to my apartment to shower and change. I suggest you go to your apartment and get ready for your date with Frank."
"Rachel…" Jacob protested, but she had stormed out of the elevator and the doors slid closed behind her.
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An hour later found Jacob wandering around his apartment, working on his second glass of scotch. It had never occurred to him that they would ever be faced with a situation like this. He and Rachel were careful not to spend all of their free time together. Rachel would occasionally go out to dinner or for drinks with her friends; he would accept invitations from Frank. He snorted remembering Rachel's parting shot. 'Date with Frank, my ass.' They had been careful, not wanting anyone to suspect the true nature of their relationship. It had never occurred to Jacob that Rachel would go on a date with another man to maintain their cover. 'Hell, it probably never occurred to her either.'
Draining his drink, Jacob decided to go downstairs, to make amends. Rachel referring to it as her apartment had stung. Sure, she had used it to host a few 'girl's night in,' but she, they, never referred to it as her apartment. Damnit, she lived with him in their apartment.
She was right. This was an awkward situation; they needed to make the best of it without making a fuss. It wasn't as if he didn't trust her, he knew Walsh wouldn't get so much as a good night kiss.
He let himself into the apartment and walked quietly toward the bedroom. His good intentions evaporated as he saw her in front of the closet dressed in a sheer black bra and matching panties.
Leaning against the door jam, he looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Don't you have any…" he searched for the proper word, "utilitarian underwear?"
Rachel jumped at the sound of his voice. "Jesus, Jacob, you startled me. What the hell are you talking about?"
"It's bad enough that my wife is going out with another man. Do you have to wear black silk lingerie on your date?"
"You know perfectly well that all of my underwear is like this." She raised an eyebrow, "and you've never complained before." She smiled sweetly, "or would you prefer that I don't wear any?"
"Very funny," Jacob growled.
"Please, don't start with me again. I don't need to deal with your male ego right now. I'm not going out with another man. You make it sound like I'm cheating on you."
Jacob's lips tightened. "You might not be thinking of this as going out on a date, but he is."
Rachel began to get angry again, she glared at Jacob.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean? That you think he's going to expect me to put out for him since he's buying me dinner? That he's going to try to rape me when I refuse?" She narrowed her eyes, "or don't you trust me? Do you think I won't rufuse?"
"No, god, no, of course not, it's just …." Jacob moved across the room and swept Rachel into a hug. "I'm sorry sweetheart." He buried his face in her hair. "I didn't mean to give you such a hard time. You know I trust you. I never... "
He took a deep breath. "I know that the way things played out tonight was unavoidable. I should have remembered about the game, should have told you. You were right, once Frank told Walsh you were free, it would have looked odd if you had refused to go to dinner."
"It's not your fault. I should have had a better excuse ready than having to work. It never occurred to me that someone other than my girlfriends would try to set me up with a date." She rolled her eyes, "who knew the Director would take an interest in my love life?"
Rachel leaned into Jacob, her arms going around his neck. "Look, it's no big deal. It's one dinner, nothing's going to happen. We'll eat, we'll talk; he'll bring me home. Period." She smiled up at Jacob, "and he'll never know that I'm wearing sexy lingerie."
"Hmm, good to know." Jacob began nuzzling her ear, his hands running up and down her bare back.
"Jacob," Rachel protested, laughing. "Quit that, we don't have time."
Jacob twisted his hand on Rachel's shoulder to get a glimpse of his watch. "Plenty of time." His lips quirked up. "Our dates won't get here for awhile." His hands began to caress her back, her ass, as his mouth kissed and sucked on her neck.
"But I still have to get dressed, do my make-up"
"You don't need makeup. It's not a date, remember? And it only takes a few minutes to throw a dress on." Jacob began nipping her neck.
"But I took a shower." Rachel shivered in his arms and arched her body into his.
"I can tell, you smell good." Holding her close, Jacob kissed Rachel, his tongue touching hers, running over her lips, tracing the insides of her mouth. "You taste good too."
Moaning with pleasure, Rachel surrendered to the inevitable. Her hands moved from Jacob's shoulders and she unbuttoned his shirt. He gasped as her hands caressed his chest, her nails lightly scratching him. He quickly pulled her across the small room, and they tumbled down on the bed together.
Rachel pushed Jacob slightly away from her. "What?" he protested reaching out to pull her closer.
"Jeans," she answered breathless, reaching for his belt. Together, they unfastened his jeans and pushed them down his hips. Jacob groaned as Rachel's hand found his cock, hard and dripping, and freed it from his underwear. He groaned again as she squeezed it, running her hand along the length of him. "Sweetheart, not yet, you'll make me come all over you."
Jacob pulled Rachel to him, his mouth trailing kisses down her chest. He rubbed his face against her breast, enjoying the feel of the silk bra she was wearing. "You're right; I have no complaints about your underwear." He flicked her nipple through the soft fabric with his tongue and when Rachel began squirming, he took it in his mouth and sucked it, tweaking it with his teeth.
While his mouth was busy with her breasts, his hands moved lower, caressing her crotch, his thumb playing with the ribbons trimming her panties. As Rachel's hips pushed up against him, he slipped his fingers into her panties. Rachel whimpered and pressed her body against his. "Oh god, baby, that feels so good, I love when you touch me."
"You're wet already," Jacob drew his finger slowly upward from her vagina to her clit. His other hand eased her panties over her hips and down her legs. His finger found her clit and began to stroke it, slowly at first and quicker as her breathing became more labored.
Rachel was writhing on the bed; Jacob's mouth on her breast, his hand between her thighs, were creating an unbearable tension in her body. She began sweating lightly as the muscles inside of her began to tighten, her vagina felt hot and wet. Her hand found his cock, pressed up between their bodies. Grasping it, she ran her hand over his head; spread his pre-cum over the length of him.
"Now, Jacob, now, I need your cock inside of me."
Grasping her hips, Jacob wrapped her legs around him. With one quick thrust, he was buried deep inside of her. Sliding her hands inside his shirt, Rachel's fingers dug into Jacob's sweaty back. Her legs tightened around his waist as she angled her hips to draw him deeper inside of her. Jacob thrust into her, hard, fast, and deep while Rachel arched her body to meet each one. She clung to him, her nails drawing blood on his back as her climax built. As it swept over her in waves of pleasure, she cried out his name, burying her face in his neck. As her muscles contracted around his cock, Jacob climaxed, his cock pulsing inside of her, filling her with his hot semen.
They lay tangled together for a few minutes, panting. Rachel finally stirred, reaching up to kiss Jacob on the chin. "Hey cowboy," she murmured, "next time try taking your boots off." Jacob shook with muffled laughter. While Rachel was clad only in her bra, he was pretty much fully dressed, shoes included.
"You were the one who said we didn't have much time."
Giggling softly, Rachel wiggled out of Jacob's arms. She looked around and spied her panties twisted in the rumpled bedding. She slipped them on as Jacob pulled his jeans back up and began buttoning his shirt.
"What time is it?"
Jacob checked his watch. "Uh, a little before 7:00."
"Good, I'll have time to shower again." She looked at Jacob critically. "You know, you should go upstairs, get changed."
"Why? I'm going to play poker, no one is going to care how I look. Besides," he shrugged, "half the people there will be coming straight from work."
"Maybe," Rachel conceded, "but you look, well, rumpled. Like you slept in those clothes. Plus." She leaned forward and sniffed, "you smell like my perfume." She frowned, "maybe you should grab a quick shower."
Jacob grinned wickedly. "Well, if we're both going to shower, why don't we…?"
Rachel ducked out of his grasp, laughing. "No, then neither one of us will be ready for our dates." She turned serious. "I mean it, we can't take chances, not with the Director. You need to go back upstairs and wait for him. I'll wait for Walsh down here."
Grumbling, Jacob acquiesced. "Fine, but I want a good-bye kiss."
Rachel pulled his head down and pressed a light kiss against his lips. "I promise," she whispered. "I'll text you the moment I get home."
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"So, did Young get off on her date all right?"
Jacob looked at Frank in surprise. "I assume so, why?"
"You live one floor away, you don't know?"
Jacob looked at his old friend steadily, a thoughtful expression on his face. Was there more to Frank urging Rachel to accept Walsh's invitation than met the eye? He recalled the skeptical look Frank had given him when he and Rachel had glibly explained her move into his building.
"No." Jacob shrugged. "She cleared my apartment and then gave me strict instructions not to leave it until you showed up. We may live in the same building, but we hardly live in each other's pockets."
He smiled maliciously, was Frank trying to play with his head? Well, two could play at that game.
"You do realize you put her in an awkward position?"
"What?"
"She was making an excuse. When she turned Walsh down, she knew full well she I was playing poker tonight."
Frank's mouth dropped open. "But she said, you said…"
Jacob pursed his lips and shook his head. "You know, I put up with this from Rachel and Felix, but I expect better from you."
"What are you talking about?"
"Treating me as if I'm some stereotypical absent-minded professor or as if, outside of my work, I'm mentally deficient." Jacob snorted. "May I remind you that I am commonly accounted to be brilliant? That I was a Nobel candidate?"
"You're saying you didn't forget the poker game?" Frank began cautiously. "Then why did you…?"
Jacob looked at him in open amusement. "Do you really think I wouldn't back Rachel up? Call her a liar? I consider us partners, of course I'd back her up." He laughed outright. "Even if I didn't consider us partners, I'd back her up. She could, would, make my life a living hell if I didn't."
"Ah, geez," Frank looked stricken. "You don't think she had plans for tonight, do you?"
"No, I got an earful on the way home. It seems that your Agent Walsh patronized her the last time they ran across each other. It was right after she was transferred from Counter-terrorism to my detail. I gather he was rather dismissive of the work we do."
"Ah geez, I had no idea."
"I wouldn't worry, Frank, I'm sure Rachel will have fun with Agent Walsh." He paused reflectively. "Much the way a cat has fun playing with a mouse."
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Rachel sighed with relief as she closed the apartment door behind her, glad that evening was over. Dinner had been unexpectedly pleasant. It turned out that Kevin was an inveterate gossip. He knew, almost chapter and verse, the status of almost all of their old classmates from Quantico. His connections to the Joint Chiefs also made him privy to some juicy gossip about some of the major power brokers in the city.
When Kevin had run out of gossip they had discussed their postings, Kevin admitting that he sometimes envied Rachel. When she expressed her surprise, he assured her he was serious. He envied her the travel, the freedom from constant supervision, the scope to work as she saw fit. He added that he wasn't the only one. It seemed that being detailed to the Special Science Advisor was rapidly being considered a 'glamour' posting.
When Rachel expressed her skepticism, Kevin shook his head. He pointed out that she had the Director's freaking home phone number on her speed dial, she traveled all over the country, and the work? Hell, the cases she and Hood worked on were either classified or on the front page of all the major papers.
Rachel's lips curved up as she remembered the flash of disappointment in Kevin's eyes as he realized he was not going to be invited upstairs. As much as she hated to admit it, and as much as she would never admit it to Jacob, she was flattered by the interest.
Yawning, she pulled out her cell phone. She would text Jacob and then head off to bed.
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"Damn," the dealer swore softly at the chirp of a cell phone. "Who the hell is that?"
Six grim faced men, and Jacob, checked their cells.
"Uh, sorry, it's me." Jacob smiled apologetically and took a quick look at his message. A one word text from Rachel, 'home.' He shook his head slightly, he should have remembered to set his cell to vibrate.
He smiled to himself as the expressions of the other players relaxed. He guessed he shouldn't have been surprised at their reaction. After all, collectively they were responsible for the safety and security of the country.
"Hey!" Jacob protested as the man to his right reached over and flicked him on the back of the head. "Why did you do that, Eric?"
"For not turning off your cell." The Attorney General grinned. "Damn civilian. It's bad enough you're taking our money tonight, you don't have to scare us too."
The other players grunted in agreement. They knew well that a late night phone call to anyone in this group could mean big trouble. Frank, however, looked at his old friend speculatively. Wondered just who could be texting Jacob at this time of night.
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Frank decided to broach the subject on the way home. Partly because he was concerned; partly because he was feeling a little grumpy. 'Damn, did I really lose that much to Jacob tonight?' He cleared his throat and tried to sound casual.
"So, Young had an early night, huh? Guess the date didn't go so well?"
Jacob pulled himself from his thoughts. He studied his old friend carefully.
"Frank, let's not play games here. What do you really want to know? I mean really? If the text I received was from Rachel? Or if our relationship is inappropriate? What?"
"I guess, both." Frank looked at Jacob. "But if the answer to the first question is yes, then I'm guessing so is the answer to the second."
Jacob sat quietly thinking. He would never reveal his and Rachel's secret to Frank, to the Bureau, without consulting her first. Honestly, he didn't consider their personal lives any of Frank's business anyway. It had no affect on how Rachel did her job. Jacob smiled to himself; if anything, it made her more effective; he was more scrupulous about following her rules, so as not to give rise to any questions about her efficiency, abilities.
"The text was from Alex. As for my relationship with Rachel, yes, we're close. We're friends. We've been together for a long time, been through a lot together. But," he raised an eyebrow, "I hope you're not considering re-assigning her because we've developed a close, working relationship?"
"No, no, nothing like that. I, uh, just wondered."
Jacob grinned. "More like you wanted to give me hard time for taking your money." He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "You know Frank, some men should never try to bluff."
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Rachel's bedside light was still burning when Jacob arrived home. He smiled at the sight of her. Her reading glasses had slid down her nose and her book lay loosely in her hand. Gently he eased the glasses from her face and placed them and her book on the bedside table. He quickly changed into a pair of flannel sleep pants and slid into bed beside her. As he reached over her to turn out light, she stirred and snuggled up against him.
"Hi, how was the poker game?"
"Good, how was dinner?"
"Mmm," Rachel yawned. "Is that a trick question? If I say good are you going to get mad at me?"
Jacob tightened his arms around her, kissed the top of her head.
"No, it's not a trick question. I told you, I'm not mad at you about tonight."
"Good, 'cause I had a nice time. We talked for a long time, Kevin knows everything about everyone, it was entertaining."
"You know, it wasn't that you were going out with Walsh that had me upset."
Rachel looked up at him, with a puzzled look on her face. "No? 'Cause you gave a pretty good impression of being pissed off about my date."
Jacob gathered her closer. "I was upset at the situation. I wanted it to be me you were getting dressed up to go out with. I wanted to be the one taking you out to dinner."
"But we go out to dinner…"
"It's not the same. When we have dinner, we're stopping at some small place on our way home from work. It's not special. Even then, we have to be careful, I can't touch you, take your hand. Hell, I even have to remind myself not to smile at you too often.
I hate the fact that I can't, that we can't go out together. I hate that I can't take you to a movie, a concert. That when I have to speak at those damn benefits, you're there, but in you FBI suit, standing a pace behind me." He looked down at her. "I want you there in a beautiful dress, on my arm. I want people to know that you're with me."
Rachel reached up to stroke his cheek. "I know. I thought our living together, getting married; it would make hiding things at work easier. Since we'd have something real to come home to. But it hasn't."
She sighed. "Do you want to tell the Director about us? You know I'll have to quit then. Either that or be fired."
"No, I'm not ready for that yet. Are you?"
Rachel shook her head, buried her face in his neck. "No, I'll hate it when they separate us. Not being with you every day."
Jacob hesitated, he hated to worry her, but Rachel had to, needed to know the truth, how things stood.
"I'm not sure how much more time we have. I think Frank is starting to get suspicious. I think he engineered that date with Walsh, to see how we'd react. On the way home, he asked me about the text message. Wanted to know if it was from you."
Rachel lay silently for a moment, absorbing his words. "What did you say?"
"I lied. Told him the text was from Alex. That you and I were close friends, but that nothing inappropriate was going on. I also," he growled and held her tight, "said that he damn well better not think about transferring you away from me."
"Jacob! Was that a good idea? I mean, about the transfer? If he's already getting…"
"It's ok." Jacob laughed. "I was able to distract him. I asked him if his real concern was the amount of money I took off him tonight."
"What? How much money are you talking about? I thought you said these were friendly games?"
"Umm, a couple hundred?"
"A couple?" Rachel shot up in bed. "How many is a couple?"
"Three."
Rachel stared at him. "You won three hundred dollars in a friendly poker game?"
Jacob laughed softly and drew her back down to his shoulder. "You sound like an outraged wife. Don't worry, I didn't gamble away the grocery money."
"But that's a lot of money…"
"Actually, that's what I won from Frank. Altogether," he counted in his head. "I think I won almost eight hundred." Jacob smiled at her gasp of surprise. "The stakes aren't usually that high. But tonight?" He shrugged. "I'm afraid your text kind of keyed them up. Things got a little, um, hot?"
"But why would my text…"
"Sweetheart, you gotta understand. With that group, a late night text could mean anything from a terrorist attack to a high profile kidnapping to all out war. So yeah, you letting me know you were home from your date kind of kicked the betting into high gear."
"But still," Rachel grumbled.
"Shhh, stop complaining. I'm a good player, and I never bet more than I can afford to lose." He was struck by a sudden idea. "I know, let's take off tomorrow. Get up early, go away for the rest of the weekend? Someplace in Virginia? Far enough away from DC we can have some privacy, but close enough to get back if a case comes up."
"How early?"
"Come on Rachel, it will be fun. Think of it as a getaway funded by my poker buddies."
Rachel snorted with laughter. "Now you're sounding like a guilty husband. But yeah, that does sound like fun."
"Good, but we're not going to spend the money I won from Frank."
"What? Why?"
"I already have plans for that money," Jacob said softly. "That money is going to buy you something nice."
Rachel shook her head, cuddling up closer to Jacob, closing her eyes. "Sometimes you can be such an idiot."
Jacob lay quietly stroking Rachel's hair, listening to her breathing even out as she fell asleep. He sighed. Rachel was right, it was getting harder to hide their relationship as time when on, not easier. They had been lucky so far, he didn't think either of them had expected that they'd avoid detection for as long as they had. But these were thoughts for another day. For now, they would enjoy the life they had managed to build together. Jacob grinned, thinking of the book Rachel had been reading, "Gone With the Wind." They'd think about what to do about Frank and the Bureau and the rest of the world, tomorrow.
