Disclaimer: I own nothing, figuratively speaking. And I still say this is fair use.

Timeline: This story is set approximately 3 months after "Snow Day"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I still don't see why I couldn't go too," Felix grumbled.

Rachel blew out her breath in exasperation. "For the millionth time, you're not going because this isn't an 'official' trip. Hood's going to Stanford to give a couple of lectures. There's no case; so no recon, no tactical assistance needed."

"I could have gone your place," Felix offered.

"And when did you undergo bodyguard training?" Rachel inquired sarcastically. She grimaced. "I don't know why you want to go. Trust me, I've been to Palo Alto before, it'll be three days surrounded by people who're practically talking a foreign language."

"Yeah," conceded Felix, "but you get to go to California."

Jacob spoke up from the back seat. "We're going to northern California Felix. The average temperature in Palo Alto in March is about the same as here." He continued with a note of indignation in voice, "and Rachel's exaggerating, everyone we'll be meeting is perfectly normal." Felix and Rachel exchanged glances, rolling their eyes.

Felix deposited the pair at National. They quickly made their way through the airport, Rachel flashing her badge to get them around security. Settled at their gate, Jacob took Rachel's hand.

"This is nice," he said softly.

"What?" Rachel jerked her attention back to him; she had been scanning the crowd around them, automatically checking for anything suspicious.

He smiled, bringing her hand to his lips. "Us, together, alone."

Rachel pulled her hand away, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. Jacob regarded her in amusement. "Rachel, no one's paying any attention to us, there's no one here either one of us knows. And I don't think the Bureau is spying on us."

She flushed. "I'm sorry but, well, there may be an air marshal on this flight, sitting here at the gate; if there is I'm going to have to identify myself to him."

"Why?"

"Jacob, this trip is unofficial only in the sense that we're not working a case. I'm still your bodyguard. I'm armed; I have to identify myself to the flight attendants and the air marshal."

Jacob slumped down in his seat. "I hadn't thought of it like that."

She looked at him quizzically, "what do you mean?"

"I was thinking this is the first time since Felix joined the team that we've gone out on the road alone." He looked at her beseechingly, "Like you said, there's no case, we won't be checking in with any field office or local cops. So it would be just you and me, together."

Rachel gave a small smile. "You mean you, me, and a bunch of professors and students."

He shook his head. "My commitment isn't that heavy. Two seminars and a lecture. We'll have tonight and most of the weekend free. Our return flight isn't until Sunday afternoon."

"Tonight? My schedule says you have a dinner tonight."

"It's at the home of the head of the Department of Applied Physics. A bunch of old friends, colleagues I haven't seen in a while. I made it clear when she suggested it that you'd be accompanying me."

"Well, yeah," Rachel began.

Jacob narrowed his eyes, "No, you're coming as a guest. You're not going to be staying in the car or patrolling the property."

"You told her about us?" Rachel's eyes widened in shock. "How could you do….

Jacob interrupted her. "No, but I don't see that it matters. Stanford is separated by more than just miles from DC and the Bureau."

"Are you crazy?" Before she could fully take Jacob to task, the gate agent arrived. Rachel grabbed him by the arm and, after tersely identifying herself, hustled him on the plane. They were soon in their normal seats, the last row in coach; both silently wondering what the hell the other was thinking.

Rachel waited until the flight was well underway before she spoke. "Jacob," she said, "I thought you understood, that you were ok, with our keeping our relationship secret. I mean, it's one thing to tell Alex, but a complete stranger?"

"She's hardly a stranger." Jacob looked at her sideways. "I haven't told, wasn't going to tell, anyone at Stanford about us. I know what we, you're, risking and I'd never do anything to hurt you. When Patricia suggested this dinner, I reminded her that I don't travel alone. She said that I should bring you along." He added defensively, "I didn't say anything about us, I only thanked her for being thoughtful enough to include you."

Rachel sighed. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. It's only…"

Jacob nodded. "I know, this is hard on both of us."

Rachel reached into her satchel for a folder. "We should go over your schedule. I have to admit, I thought this visit would follow your normal pattern."

Jacob's lips quirked upwards. "Well, I definitely think I'll be skipping the visit with Tanner."

"If you want to visit your … dog," Rachel sniffed, "don't let me stand in your way."

After reviewing the schedule, Rachel cocked an eyebrow at him. "I should have paid better attention to this when you gave it to me last week. You're right; it is pretty light for a three day visit."

"I was looking at this as an opportunity for us." Rachel frowned quizzically. "I realized when Patricia asked me to lecture there wouldn't be any need for Felix to come along." Jacob looked at her wishfully. "We don't see to ever have any real time to ourselves. To be together."

Rachel started to reply, but he over-ruled her. "I mean outside of the bedroom." Rachel blushed. "Since January we've been on the road more often than not. It seems like forever since we had more than a day to ourselves."

"Not since we got snowed in together," Rachel said softly.

Jacob smiled reminiscently. "Yeah, it's impossible for us to be together in public in DC; there's always the chance we might run into someone who knows us. Even when we're in Deale we have to be careful. That's why this seemed so perfect. We'll be miles away from anyone who knows or cares about our connection to the Bureau."

A smile played on Rachel's lips. "I wouldn't have thought you could be so devious. What did you have in mind?"

"We leave Stanford after the last seminar. I've booked a room for us at a small hotel in the city and I've made reservations for dinner. We'll spend Saturday sightseeing. I even got us tickets to go to Alcatraz; I thought you'd like that."

Rachel was impressed. "You really planned this. And when were you going to tell me?"

Jacob grinned. "I always meant to tell you after the plane took off. I figured it would be too late for you to object."

She looked doubtful, "I don't know. Can we just fall off the grid for like this? Won't people be suspicious?"

Jacob looked at her impatiently. "Honestly Rachel, the last time we were in Palo Alto, how often did you check in?"

Rachel smiled reluctantly. "You're right, I didn't check in at all. If something comes up, they'll call me. But what about the people at Stanford? Won't they think it's odd if you rush off?"

"No," he replied. "I told Patricia I'd have to leave after the last seminar."

Rachel was silent for a moment and then she laughed. "Ok, you win, but," she added "I'm going to have to keep a better eye on you. I can't believe how devious you're getting."

Jacob looked smug. "Getting? You need to talk to some of my former handlers."

He dug a guidebook to San Francisco out of his carryon and they spent the remainder of the flight planning their weekend. It wasn't long before they were landing at SFO and collecting their rental car.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Where too?" Rachel wanted to know as they drove onto the Stanford campus. "Do you need to check in with the department head or what?"

Jacob knew he had one more hurdle to clear on this trip. "Um, we're staying at the Stanford Guest House, why don't we register and grab some lunch before we go to see Patricia?"

Rachel nodded absently, more intent in getting to their destination without hitting a jay-walking student than in what Jacob was saying. They approached the desk and he spoke up quickly. "Hello, we have a reservation, name of Hood." Only Rachel's training kept the surprise from showing on her face.

"Oh, yes, here it is Dr. Hood," said the desk clerk. "Your room charges are being paid by the Department of Applied Physics, is that correct?"

"Um, yes," he answered. The clerk beamed at them. "Here's your key; I hope you and Mrs. Hood enjoy your stay."

Jacob grabbed Rachel by the arm and dragged her toward the restaurant. She maintained her silence until they were seated. "Are you crazy?" she spat out, looking around to make sure they couldn't be overheard. "You booked one room? For Dr. and Mrs. Hood? What the hell were you thinking? How am I going to explain this?"

"The Mrs. was an assumption on the part of the clerk, the room is in my name only. And explain what to whom Rachel?"

Rachel gaped at him. "Uh, explain to the Bureau why they don't have a room charge for me for tonight? You do realize I have to file expense reports for all our travel?"

"Yes," Jacob said. "And I've told you, I'm not as oblivious as you seem to think. I'm here as a guest of Department. When they found out having me meant having you too, they agreed to pay for your room." He raised an eyebrow, "Or that's what you can tell the Bureau if they ask." He shrugged. "And for the rest of the weekend, the Bureau is used to me considering these trips personal time; we can claim we stayed with friends of mine."

Rachel stared at him, fascinated, "Oh my God, you really have thought this out."

Jacob's lips kicked up. "I have been told that I'm not completely unintelligent."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Don't forget," Rachel reminded him as they entered the McCullough Building. "I need to do a preliminary walk through of the classrooms you'll be in tomorrow. I want to make sure that I can provide adequate security."

Jacob rolled his eyes. "Rachel, we're at Stanford. No one here is going to try to kill me. I'm not teaching, so there are no disgruntled students and I haven't had a stake in faculty politics in quite some time."

Rachel snorted. "Yeah, but sometimes to know you is to want to kill you."

Jacob laughed quietly, "I promise, no more surprises."

"Jacob," exclaimed a stocky, older woman, as they entered the administrative offices of the department. "You finally made it, I was starting to get worried."

He smiled at the woman, "We decided to have lunch first. Patricia, this is Special Agent Rachel Young, my FBI handler. Rachel, this is Dr. Carson, the department chair."

"You're Jacob's FBI bodyguard?" Dr. Carson said with a ghost of a smile.

Rachel smiled coolly and stuck out her chin. "Yes, I am."

The older woman smiled outright. "I'm so pleased to meet you. Your presence tonight will make my dinner party more interesting than they usually are."

Rachel raised her eyebrows. Dr. Caruthers explained. "Half my guests are appalled an FBI agent is coming to dinner. They see you as a representative of a corrupt political organization." Jacob choked on a laugh. She continued, "The other half are thrilled to be meeting a real, live bodyguard. I'm afraid they're expecting something out of the movies."

"To which half do you belong to Dr. Carson?" asked Rachel.

Dr. Carson snorted. "Neither, I'm the one who's happy to have at least one dinner guest who won't want to hash over faculty politics or abuse the administration all night. And please, call me Patricia."

"Only if you call me Rachel," she extended her hand. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to review my security measures for Dr. Hood with you."

Patricia raised her eyebrows in surprise when Rachel pulled a roster for each class from her satchel.

"I was hoping," Rachel said, "that you could confirm for me that these are the only people who will be attending the lectures?"

"Those rosters reflect who is enrolled. I can't guarantee that they'll be the only ones in attendance. Jacob is a popular speaker." Patricia explained.

Rachel shook her head. "I'm sorry, but that's not acceptable. I need to know how many people will be in the room in order to provide Dr. Hood with adequate security."

Patricia looked thoughtful. "The rooms are fairly small; they hold around thirty-five people. Would it help if I requested a member of campus security to attend each of the classes?"

Rachel smiled gratefully. "Yes, that should be sufficient. Would it be possible for me to meet with your head of security now?"

Patricia reached for her phone. "I don't see why not." She spoke briefly and hung up with a satisfied expression on her face. "The head of security is on his way over. He'll go over the rooms with you now and help you out himself tomorrow. You don't know what you're doing for the reputation of Applied Physics," she added with a grin. "We haven't had this much excitement over here in I don't know how long." As Jacob and Rachel left her office, she called out. "Jacob, don't forget, dinner at 6:00."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rachel and the head of security quickly inspected the classrooms to be used and reviewed the procedures she deemed necessary for the next day. Jacob smiled in amusement as the two security professionals bemoaned the lack of metal detectors and bullet-proof podiums. Soon they were free to play tourist.

"Well, what would you like to see? I know you've been here with me before, but well…" Jacob trailed off.

Rachel smirked. "But before, you generally ditched me since you were here on personal business." She looked thoughtful. "You know what I'd really like to see? Your Stanford. The places you used to work, where you hung out, that sort of thing."

They spent the rest of the afternoon wandering over the campus. Jacob showed Rachel his old lab, the classrooms where he taught, even the carrel in the science library where he would hole up when working on a paper.

It was late afternoon when they returned to the Guest House.

"Think I have time for a quick shower?" Rachel asked.

"Uh, sure, why?"

She yawned. "Jet lag. I need something to keep me awake through dinner; a shower should do the trick."

Rachel screwed her ponytail into a bun and stepped into the shower. She closed her eyes and tilted her head up to let the cool water run over her face and body. Her eyes flew open when a husky voice whispered in her ear, "I think you missed a spot." Before she could turn around, one of Jacob's arms circled her waist, pulling her against him. His other hand pulled the soapy washcloth from her hands.

"Yep," his voice, huskier than normal, murmured in her ear, "you definitely missed spots." Jacob slowly ran the washcloth over her shoulders, breasts and down her abdomen. By the time he reached her stomach, they were both panting. Turning in his arms, Rachel pressed herself against him. Standing on her toes, she ran her hands into his hair, pulling Jacob into a kiss.

Groaning, Jacob turned and pushed Rachel against the wall of the shower. Pinning her body to the wall with his own, he reached down and cupped her ass, pulling her up against his erection. He broke off their kiss long enough to whisper in her ear, "hold on to me, tight." Rachel slid her hands from his hair and wound her arms firmly around his neck. She gasped, partly from pleasure, partly from fear at their precarious position, as Jacob wrapped her legs around his waist. Holding her hips tightly, he thrust into her. This time, the sounds Rachel made were pure pleasure.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"You know," Rachel whispered in Jacob's ear as he held her still pinned against the shower wall, "I didn't want to get my hair wet."

Jacob's shoulder's shook. "Don't make me laugh, I might drop you."

Rachel cautiously lowered her legs. Leaning against him, she sighed with satisfaction. "I love you."

Jacob lightly kissed her. "I love you too." He shook water from his hair, "but you better hurry up or we're going to be late for dinner." Rachel gasped in indignation as Jacob turned off the water and stepped from the shower.

Rachel dressed in record time. Snapping her holster and Glock onto the waistband of her pants, she caught sight of Jacob's face. "Don't."

Jacob sighed, "Do you really need…"

She gave him a level look. "We've been through this before, when I'm on duty, I carry my weapon. You and Patricia may consider me a guest, but that doesn't change the fact I'm here as your bodyguard."

"Ok, but what about tomorrow night? And Saturday?"

Rachel smiled and gave Jacob a quick kiss. "After we leave here, we officially fall off the grid. I promise, as soon as we get to our hotel tomorrow night, I'll lock my weapon away."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

As they drove to Patricia's house, Rachel quizzed Jacob as to whom he thought would be present. He considered the matter. "Most likely some of the senior faculty, those are the ones I worked with while I was here. But I'm sure she'll have invited Sebastian Thorpe."

"Why him?" Rachel asked.

"His class is the one I'm lecturing on the use of nanotechnology in genetic analysis." Jacob shrugged. "As for the rest, who knows?"

"What about the other professors whose seminars you're talking too?"

"They're Patricia's students. Originally I was only going to take those two classes, but for some reason when Thorpe heard I was coming, he asked Patricia to speak to me about addressing his students."

Rachel was puzzled. "Why did he do that? Was he a friend of yours back in the day?"

"No, Thorpe only joined the department the year I left. But he works in what was my field."

"That's odd," Rachel mused.

Jacob looked annoyed, "Rachel, I'm still considered one of the leading experts in the area, it's not odd Thorpe wants me to talk to his students."

"I'm sorry Jacob," Rachel said apologetically. "I know you're not here as the Special Science Advisor, but I'm hard-wired to look for threats to you."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Patricia answered the door after their first knock. "Jacob, Rachel, I'm so glad you're here. Rachel, you must come and meet Dr. Barker, his specialties are molecular biology and conspiracy theories. He's thrilled to be meeting an actual member of the evil cabal."

Rachel's lips twitched. "I'd love to, but first I have to get Hood established in a secure position."

Jacob laughed outright. "I'm coming with you, it will be interesting to watch your reaction to Martin and his to you."

Rachel found the next hour more enjoyable than she had anticipated. While there were a few raised eyebrows, the fact Jacob's bodyguard was an attractive blonde went without comment. Rachel was able to circulate among the guests, carrying on various conversations while still keeping Jacob within an arm's length.

She was patiently explaining to Dr. Quake that working with Dr. Hood did not mean that she had a background in biophysics, when she became alert to the presence of a younger man. She had noticed him watching Jacob earlier; now he was approaching Jacob with an intent expression on his face. With the ease of long practice, she smoothly blocked his path. "Yes?"

The man scowled at her. "Who the hell are you?"

"If you had bothered to show up on time," Patricia's voice carried a note of disapproval, "you would have been introduced to Special Agent Young. She's Jacob's bodyguard." She turned to Rachel, "this is Sebastian Thorpe, one of our rising stars; I hope you can excuse his discourtesy."

"No," Rachel extended her hand to the man, "the apology's mine. I'm afraid that you were approaching Dr. Hood rather quickly and my training kicked in."

Ignoring her hand, Thorpe's lips curved up maliciously. "You're the FBI bodyguard? You look more like Jacob's piece of ah…fluff."

There was a moment of shocked silence. Jacob, flushing angrily, began to speak, but Rachel silenced him with a look. Smiling slightly, she said, "You're a brave man, Dr. Thorpe."

Thorpe's expression became uneasy. "Uh, why?"

Rachel casually brushed back her jacket, exposing her weapon. Eyes widened at the sight of the Glock attached to her hip. "Most men would think twice before insulting a woman who's armed." Rachel raised an eyebrow, "But don't worry, I'm not going to shoot."

"Why ever not?" Patricia glared at the younger man.

Rachel turned to the older woman with a bland expression. "He's not worth the paperwork." The rest of the guests snickered; Thorpe turned red.

"On that note, let's go into dinner," announced Patricia.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dinner passed quickly; much to Patricia's chagrin the conversation soon turned into a debate of departmental politics. Shortly afterward, Hood excused himself and Rachel. "Jet lag, you know." He hesitated. "So Patricia, Sebastian, I'll see you both tomorrow."

Jacob was uncharacteristically silent on the drive back to the Guest House. "You should've let me handle that jerk," he finally blurted out.

"What?" replied Rachel vaguely.

"Sebastian, I should have been the one…."

Rachel interrupted. "What, you should have been the one to defend my honor?"

Jacob scowled at her. "It's not funny Rachel. I can't believe he made a remark like that about you."

"Jacob, I've been ignoring remarks like that from jerks like him pretty much since I hit puberty. Forget it."

"I can't just forget it. It's bad enough when we're working and the local cops hit on you, but to have..."

Rachel looked at him in astonishment. "That bothers you?"

Jacob felt his temper rising. "Of course it bothers me. Do you think it's pleasant for me to stand there while some man tries to figure out how to get you into bed? To have them ask me if you're unattached? To hear them make remarks about your looks, about, about your body?"

Rachel abruptly pulled the car to the side of the road. "I can't believe we're having this conversation. You're being irrational."

"How in the hell can you accuse me of being irrational? Because I hate how these men think you're some kind of, that you should be…available to them?"

Rachel sighed. "Jacob, do you know one of the things about you that helped me fall in love with you? It's the way you never made assumptions about me based on how I look."

Jacob looked puzzled, "what do you mean?"

Rachel smiled bitterly. "All my life I've had people, men especially, dismiss me, ignore my opinions. Look at me, I'm not only a woman, I'm blonde, pretty and, well, I'm not short, but I look small since I'm thin, fine-boned."

She looked at him levelly. "I've always had to force people to take me seriously, to treat me with respect, but not you. When I was first assigned to your detail, you resented not me, but the fact that you had to have a protection detail. Still, you respected me, you assumed that I was competent, that I had something to contribute to your work. You've always treated me as an equal." She reached out and touched his face. "You don't know what it meant to me when you said we weren't just lovers, that we're partners."

Rachel took a deep breath. "And that means you don't "handle' things for me."

"I know that you're capable of handling the jerks," Jacob said, "probably better than me. I just wish you'd let me help protect you from that kind of thing."

"I'm not a child Jacob, I don't need you to protect me," said Rachel sharply.

"I'm not saying you are. I just want you to acknowledge that there could be situations, like tonight, when it would be better for me to do, say something rather than you."

Rachel hesitated. "Maybe. But you have to agree that I get to decide if I need your help." Jacob reached over and gave her a quick hug.

"Agreed. But," he added softly, "it'll always bother me when those men..."

Rachel re-started the car and pulled into traffic. "It shouldn't bother you." She added airily, "it doesn't bother me when women hit on you."

"What?" Jacob sputtered, "no one's ever …"

Rachel laughed, "No? Just that woman at the concert, that cop in LA, the college kid who offered to lend you her dorm room, and oh, yeah, my personal favorite, the 80 year old who was literally on her deathbed."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

When they reached the hotel, they quickly changed into flannel pants and t-shirts. Rachel stretched out on the bed, flipping through the television channels while Jacob reviewed his lecture notes. "You know what you should do," she offered.

Jacob looked up from the desk where he was working. "What?"

"You should tell that idiot Thorpe he can teach his own class," Rachel smirked. "That'll teach him to be rude to a lady."

"I did consider it," Jacob grimaced. "But half the department heard him insult you tonight. If I refused to take the class, it would change the direction of the gossip."

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "Right now the gossip is that he was rude and you made him look like a fool. If I don't do the lecture as agreed, people would wonder why and talk about that instead."

Rachel shook her head. "I didn't realize that academics could be so petty."

Jacob snorted. "You never heard the saying that academic politics are so bitter because so little is at stake?"

Rachel yawned. "I guess. I'm ready to turn in, are you about done there?"

"For now." Jacob turned out the desk lamp and climbed into the bed beside her.

Rachel snuggled into his side, laying her head on his chest, as Jacob wrapped his arms around her. "You know," she said sleepily, "he only said that because he's jealous."

"He is?"

"Umhm," Rachel murmured. "He's in your field, right? But those people still respect you, listen to what you say, consider you the expert. They treat him like a kid."

Jacob dropped a kiss on the top of head. "I thought it was because I have such a nice piece of fluff."

Rachel chuckled, "that too."