Frank took his work seriously. He took his rules seriously. As he drove, though, he was wondering how bad it would be to break his no name rule. They'd been in the car for three hours, and he'd gone over all possible names that started with the letter "E," and he found that he really wanted to know what hers was.

He noticed her on her phone a lot, and she was frowning. Then it rang, and she answered. He tried not to eavesdrop, but it was hard not to since she was less than two feet away from him.

"Miranda, I can't," she was saying. There was loud shouting, which caused her to wince. "Ask Jenny." More yelling. "The second assistant?" The yelling continued. "She's there with you. I'm in England, Miranda..." She pulled the phone out from her ear as the yelling intensified. Frank wondered who this woman was that was allowed to speak to people like that.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry..." she said. Frank could tell she was trying not to cry. He felt bad for her. If this was her boss, then this woman needed a new job.

"I'll call Jenny," she finished. "I'll...okay." She sighed heavily as she put the phone to her lips briefly, eyes closed. Then she dialed.

"Jenny?" she asked. "Miranda needs you to..." Frank got lost in all the directions she was giving this Jenny woman. It didn't make sense to him at all. Then she finally stopped and hung up. He wondered if she would launch into an explanation about the whole thing, but she didn't. He peeked and saw her leaning on her hand, looking out the window. He noticed a tear on her cheek. He looked back at the road and started to think about what her job might be if it was this intense. If he had heard correctly, it sounded like it involved clothing, which baffled him.

"Hey, X?" she said, breaking into his thoughts. "Any chance of a bathroom break?"

Frank looked at the GPS. There wasn't a place for a while yet. He turned to look at her.

"I can pull over here," he said.

"I am not peeing on the side of the road," she replied, annoyed. Her vulnerability was long gone at this point, as was the tear drop on her face. It was replaced with someone who was irritable.

"I'd find you a bush. I'm not that mean," he smirked.

"No bushes. No logs. No side of a road," she said.

"We've got a while before a place comes," he gestured to the GPS. She sighed loudly and banged her head against the head rest. Then she crossed her legs tighter, jiggling them. After ten minutes, she made a sound of distaste in her throat.

"Argh, fine," she said. "Pull over."

Frank eased to the shoulder and parked. He turned the car off as she got out and made her way down the hill towards the brush. Frank got out to stretch. He couldn't help but think back to the last time he'd let a woman go pee in the brush. Lai had used that to escape, though. He chuckled to himself as he thought about her. She'd eventually gone off to do her own thing, leaving him behind. No woman ever stuck around Frank, and he got used to it.

"That was awful," the woman complained as she opened the car door. Frank wasn't listening, though, as he was preoccupied by the approaching SUV. Something told him that something bad was about to happen. As it drew nearer, it slowed down. Then a window rolled down, and the butt of a rifle poked out.

"GET DOWN!" Frank bellowed, moving to grab her. The woman screamed as he threw her down with him on top behind his car just as bullets began to fly. Frank shielded her as best as he could. He was starting to think about how this really had turned into a protective detail job. When the bullets stopped, the SUV went up ahead and parked. Frank looked up to see two men get out, and he moved to the passenger side and reached into his glove compartment for his pistol. He looked back to see the woman crying.

"You all right?" he asked.

"No," she whimpered. He saw the blood then, and he felt a bit of anxiety. She was gripping her arm tightly, and the blood was seeping through her fingers. He reached to look, and he felt relieved to see it was only a graze on her arm, not a through and through. He could fix that.

"Stay down," he ordered.

"Where are you going?" she asked, panicked. He stood up and took aim at one of the men coming towards him. He hit the man's knee and shoulder, making him go down shouting. Frank ducked as the other man fired at him. When there was a pause, he popped up over the door and shot him too. The first man tried to shoot him again, making Frank take him out. The SUV tore off at this point, leaving the two men behind, and Frank waited to see if they'd get up before going over to them. They didn't. He bent to check for identification and found there was none. He pulled out his phone and took pictures of them before returning to the woman, who was now sitting up and leaning against the side of his car. He knelt down beside her.

"It frickin' hurts," she said a little tearfully.

"Hang on," he instructed as he stood again and went to his trunk. He pulled out a towel and closed the trunk before going back to her. She removed her hand to let him see it and then wrap it tightly with the towel.

"Who were they?" she asked. "What did they want?"

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "But my guess would be they were after you."

"Great," she moaned, banging her head against the car door. Frank frowned. He hoped she hadn't left a dent there.

"Come on," he urged, reaching to pull her to her feet. "We should move."

"I should call my father," she said, pulling out her phone. He grabbed it from her and tossed it to the ground, stomping it.

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "Why did you do that? Oh my God, you've just gotten me fired, you know that, right?"

"That's probably how they were tracking you," he said. "Get in."

"I'm fired," she went on a bit numbly. "I'm so fired. That was the only way she could contact me."

"Better fired than dead," Frank pointed out. She glared at him.

"And how do you know they weren't tracking your phone?" she asked, annoyed.

Frank pulled his out and sent the photos to Tarconi with a message of what he wanted Tarconi to do with them before saying he'd be in touch and then smashed his phone too.

"Happy now?" he asked.

"Very," she said sarcastically. She got back into the car as Frank walked to the driver's side. He took a look over his shoulder before opening the door and getting in. He felt frustrated about the bullet holes in the side of his car. He started to drive again, wondering just what was going to happen next. He knew he'd have to do a better job on her arm. When they reached the nearest town, he found a drug store and parked in front of it.

"I'll be back," he told her, getting out. She didn't argue. He knew she was still going over the fact she was fired in her mind. It surprised him how much more important that was to her than the fact she almost got killed. He went inside and purchased everything he needed and came back out, grateful to see no one else had attempted to kill her while he'd been gone.

"Are we really going to do this here?" she asked when he got back in the car.

"Where would you rather do it?" he countered.

"Not here. Find a quieter place."

He had to admit she was right. If they didn't want people noticing, they had to be somewhere more private. He didn't say a word as he started the car and drove to find such a place. In the end, he stopped at a park that was empty of people. They got out and went to sit at the water fountain. The woman perched on the edge of the stone and reluctantly handed her arm over to Frank. She grunted as he unwrapped it. She watched him examine it more thoroughly before setting to work on cleaning it up. He almost jumped out of his skin when she reached with her other hand to suddenly grab his leg and squeeze it tightly while hissing in pain.

"Sorry," she said, realizing what she'd done and pulled her hand back.

"It's okay," he said back. "I know it hurts."

She nodded but didn't say anything else. He was surprised she tolerated the pain as well as she did. He hadn't pegged her for a tough kind of girl.

"All set," he said, finishing wrapping it with gauze.

"Thank you," she said with a small smile. "A driver and a doctor. Who knew?"

Frank cracked a smile at this as he put away the emergency kit. He looked at her after and saw how afraid she looked. In that moment, he decided to bend one of his rules. He held out his hand towards her.

"I'm Frank," he said. There was a look of surprise on her face until she put her hand in his.

"I'm Emily," she replied.

Of all the names that started with the letter "E," Emily had been his top three. He smiled.

"Let's get you to where you need to be in one piece, shall we?" he asked.

"Okay," she smiled back. He pulled her to her feet, and they walked back to his car. Frank knew he was getting himself deeper into shit (not for the first time and probably not for the last time), but he didn't care.

Emily had already become something more than just a package.

...

He did not look like a Frank. Emily was examining him discreetly every chance she got, when she wasn't thinking about how fired she was. There was nothing she could do about it, she told herself. Miranda would be furious, but she couldn't control it. She'd deal with the fallout when she got back. If she got back. She shuddered. She didn't like thinking about that. She looked at Frank again. If he noticed her looking at him, he didn't say anything. She was relieved to finally have a name for him. It had felt weird calling him X. She thought about earlier and how fast his reflexes for shooting a gun were.

"You know your way around a weapon," she commented, deciding to bring it up.

"I do," he nodded.

"What did you do before this?" she asked casually. He looked at her then.

"Why are you interested?" he countered.

"I just am," she shrugged. "I'd kind of like to know the person I'm spending time with."

"I've already broken two of my rules," he said. "I'm not sharing my life story with you."

Emily tilted her head at him. She had a playful smile on her lips. She would get information out of him, of course. She was good at that.

"I'm guessing you were former military," she said, squinting at him. "Only child. You don't have anything to do with your parents right now. You like rules because it gives you a sense of order, and you crave order. Without it, you're lost. You think that if you keep yourself reserved, you won't ever get hurt."

"That's enough," Frank said impatiently.

"I think I touched a nerve," Emily smirked. "How far off am I?"

"My life is my life," he insisted. "It's private."

"I can see you starting to break down those walls a little," she said, reaching to poke his upper arm. "You already have just by telling me your name."

"That's as much as you'll get from me."

"I disagree," Emily smiled, poking him again. "I think you and I are going to be best friends when this is over."

"Stop it," Frank said, annoyed. He swatted away her hand before she could poke him again. Emily rested back in her seat, closing her eyes momentarily. She tried not to think about how angry Miranda was by now if she had tried to call her. She tried not to think about the men who had just tried to kill her. She didn't know why anyone would want her dead unless it was to motivate her father with something.

"I'm an only child," she said suddenly. "It sucks sometimes."

Frank didn't answer. She decided to just keep talking anyway. If he wasn't going to offer anything about himself, that was his problem.

"My mother walked out when I was three years old," she continued. "I don't really have any memories of her. It's just been Dad and me ever since. He's always busy with work. I currently work in New York, but I'm probably going to get fired, so I won't be anymore."

"How can you get fired for this?" he asked. He couldn't help himself.

"It proves I'm not a good assistant," Emily sighed.

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked, incredulous.

"If I'm not available when needed, then I'm not a good assistant."

"That's a load of crap," Frank pointed out.

"It is what it is. I won't have to worry about it for much longer because she can't call me now. The death of my job has been signed. I'm stuck in this now," she said. "And I'm suddenly starving." She was. She didn't know why. She didn't normally feel hunger.

"I'll find a place," Frank assured her. She believed him.

...

Frank pulled out his other burner phone after Emily went to get something for them to eat. He watched her through the window from the street. He breathed in slowly as he waited for Tarconi to pick up.

"What is it this time?" Tarconi answered, not even greeting him.

"Hello to you too," Frank replied sarcastically.

"What are the pictures from? What's going on, Frank?"

"I'm on a job, and they tried to kill my package," Frank answered. "I want to know who they are."

"They're a bad lot, is what," Tarconi told him. "Mercenaries. What have you gotten yourself into this time?"

"I'm escorting a woman to safety," Frank answered. "That's all."

"Well, she definitely needs to be kept safe. If someone is willing to send mercenaries after her, then they must really want her dead."

"Did you find out who they were hired by?" Frank asked.

"Not yet. I'm working on it," Tarconi answered.

"Work faster," Frank ordered, hanging up. He saw Emily returning, and he didn't want her to overhear him. He smiled as she got in and handed him a bag.

"I don't know how you can eat that," she winced as he pulled out the sandwich.

"It's a BLT," he said. "What's wrong with it?"

"Bacon. Mayonnaise," she said.

"That's it?"

"The cheese," she added.

"It's got vegetables on it," he argued.

"Well, that makes it all better, doesn't it? Your heart will thank you for that," Emily retorted. He took a large bite out of it while looking at her, and she made a face back.

"I don't know how you can eat that," he said after swallowing and gesturing at her salad. "Where's your protein?"

She lifted her drink and shook it.

"Protein shake," she said.

"I prefer to chew my protein, thanks," he snorted.

She sucked on the straw deeply to make her point, and he just shook his head while going back to his sandwich.

But he couldn't help but smile. Just a little.