(AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, I'm BAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK! I know, all summer there have been no updates. Frustrating, but the wait has ended! Yaaaay!)

"Rachel?"

"Yes, Mr. Ziegler?"

"What is that noise?" Toby's voice echoed up from the bottom of the stairwell, as Rachel pushed the pause button on her CD player.

"It's Dashboard Confessional," she replied, not moving from where she lay, lounging on the bed, with the door hanging open.

"Yes, great, wonderful. It's loud." He was irritated, she noticed. Well, that wasn't awfully unusual.

"Yes." Pressing the play button again, she settled back into her pillows, and was about to re-open the book she was holding, when Toby interrupted her again.

"Rachel?

"Yes, Mr. Ziegler?"

"Turn it down." His voice was dry, tired. With a little sigh, she reached over, and, with what she deemed was entirely too much effort for her at this moment, turned the volume dial several notches lower. "Thank you," Toby said, after a few moments. Rachel heard his footsteps retreating away across the wood paneling.

"No problem," she muttered under her breath, turning back to her diary. Fumbling around in the bed covers for the pen, she pulled off the cap with her teeth, and stared at the half-filled page with a frustrated frown on her face.

"Now you've distracted me," she said to Toby, obviously too far away to hear her. Closing the book with a snap, she tossed it, along with the pen, off the end of the bed, and fell backwards with a dramatic plop, leaning into her pillows and rolling her eyes at no one.

Eventually, she shifted over on to her side, and turned to look at the picture resting on her dresser. She and her mother and father were there, along with, oddly enough, Toby Ziegler. Everyone in the photograph was smiling except for him, of course. In fact, she couldn't recall every seeing a picture of him, anywhere, where he had been smiling. "Grump," she said absently. "Only a little longer..."

* * * * * * * * * * *

"We're going!" Toby called up to Rachel's room, before grabbing his coat and bag and heading towards the garage door. A few minutes later, the girl came running down the stairs, shoes and socks in hand. "Let's go," he said simply, and heard her let out a patient breath, before following him out towards the car.

"Mr. Ziegler?" She asked, as he shut the car door, and began to pull out of the garage. "Can I go shopping today?"

Shopping? Shopping. Shopping was something teenagers liked, wasn't it? He wasn't big on it himself, but he knew all the women liked it. His wife had liked it. CJ liked it. But...he wasn't really prepared for shopping with a girl. He chewed his lip anxiously. He'd hoped he'd be able to last one more week, but...

"Sorry," he said after a moment. "I'm busy."

"No," Rachel said, "I mean, Donna was going to take me. Today. You won't have left by then, anyway. And Ms. Cregg's going, too."

Oh. Well. That was a different story, then. Still... "Aren't Donna and CJ working today?" he asked.

"They've got some time off. And they asked me," She added quickly, "So it's not like I'm in the way or anything. Really. I won't get into any trouble or anything."

"How are you going to get home?" Toby was still skeptical. He had the sneaking suspicion that CJ had proposed this whole thing because she felt sorry for him, and he wasn't fond of that idea.

"You'll probably still be at the office when we're done," Rachel said wryly. "For a change."

Toby turned around his seat to regard the girl, as she blushed and looked at her lap. "Sorry," she muttered.

"It's fine," Toby said, shaking his head, and turning back to the wheel. "Go ahead. But be back by 10:00."

There was a silence, and then, mostly to herself, he heard Rachel say, "You sound like my father."

Thanks, he wanted to say, but didn't.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Donna and Rachel met CJ at 5:30 in the parking lot. "Ready?" CJ asked, smiling down at Rachel.

"Yup!" She said, swing her denim purse back and forth on her arm.

"Did Toby give you any money?" Donna frowned as Rachel snorted derisively, and shook her head.

"Not likely," Rachel replied. "Being generous isn't really one of Mr. Ziegler's big worries in life. He's rather stingy with his funds." Rachel glanced quickly up at CJ to see her reaction, suddenly worried that she might have offended the woman. Donna she could talk and joke with, but this older, taller, higher ranking woman was a different story.

"Did you ask him?" Asked CJ, reasonably.

"Well, no," Rachel admitted. "But you know he wouldn't have. And I didn't want to make him angry."

"You should give Toby more credit," Donna said with a frown. "He's really a very good person."

"Oh, I'm sure he's great at what he does and all," Rachel agreed glibly. "He's suddenly been saddled with a random girl, who doesn't fit with his schedule, and who's completely unwelcome in his life. I'm not blaming him or anything."

"That's not what I was getting at," Donna protested, but Rachel shot her a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry about it," She said, softening a bit. "It's all fine. I'm sure he's a good guy." Then, meekly, looking up at CJ, "Can we go? I've only got until 10:00."

They piled into the car, with Rachel again in the backseat, and pulled out of the parking lot, heading on to the street.

"What radio stations do you listen to?" CJ asked as she rounded a corner.

"Mostly DC 101, Z 104, stuff like that," Rachel answered with a shrug. "It's all good, though. As long as it's not country."

"Country's not so bad," murmured Donna defensively. "Country can be very sweet."

"Or, country can be very sweet," Rachel said, throwing up her hands in defeat. "Whatever works!"

CJ switched on the radio, flipping a few times before settling on a song. I just can't wait till my ten year reunion/I wanna bust out the double doors, the voice sang. Rachel clapped her hands, and sat up straighter in her seat.

"John Meyer!" She crowed, grinning. "I love John Meyer! Oh god, he's really hot, too."

Donna looked at her. "How old are you, again?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Fourteen," Rachel replied, looking puzzled. "Why?"

"Was I thinking about how 'hot' people were, at fourteen?" Donna asked, mostly to herself.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Oh, please," she muttered, with a little laugh.