I never really intended to write another chapter for Wednesday Morning 3am, but a comment that EHFan made to me, got me thinking that maybe there should be, particularly to set the scene for what is to follow in later stories. So although I have had to post this as a stand alone, it is in fact the final chapter of Wednesday Morning.
I guess all my stories are chapters of one big story in the end though - the story of Jacob and Rachel's relationship after the end of the series - so I suppose it doesn't really matter.
I think I've managed, for the first time, to legitimately rate this one "T" so if you haven't read any of the previous "M" rated ones, you may find this a little hard to follow. I'll leave it up to you whether you want to go back and read the "M" stories, but they all do follow chronologically on from A Warm Weekend.
And because we get to see a little glimpse here of manipulative Jacob, I have chosen this song as the music for this chapter:
Soundtrack: The Stranger – Billy Joel
"You may never understand how the stranger is inspired,
But he isn't always evil and he is not always wrong,
Though you drown in good intentions you will never quench the fire,
You'll give in to your desire when the stranger comes along."
"Jacob……… Jacob…………."
He woke to the sound of her soft voice and the feel of her hand smoothing his hair. He was lying on his stomach, face turned towards the edge of the bed, arms sprawled out near his head.
He didn't want to wake up.
Reluctantly, he dragged open his heavy eyelids and looked up at her. Rachel was sitting on the bed next to him, fully showered and dressed; the room was full of light.
"Good morning, sexy" she whispered to him, "I've bought you some, um, brunch".
He rubbed his face with the hand closest to his eyes.
He couldn't move. Didn't want to move. He closed his eyes again.
She ran her hand from his hair down the length of his face. She touched his lips with her fingertips and gently kissed his cheekbone.
He felt a familiar flutter of desire in his groin at the touch of her lips.
"Sweetheart, you really need to wake up. We have to go to work".
He sighed slowly and opened his eyes again.
She kissed his mouth this time and he drank in the feel of her soft lips.
Just as he was starting to think that he could lose himself to these lips forever, she gently broke away.
"I've had a call from Felix. We're booked on a plane at 4pm to Denver. I've made you some scrambled eggs and bacon".
"Pancakes or toast?"
"Toast."
He smiled. "Good girl".
He rolled onto his back, stretched his arms above his head and unfurled his long body, feeling his muscles connect and lengthen.
"What's the time?"
"Its 1pm"
"What?"
"It's 1pm"
"You've got to be fucking kidding me. Surely not?" He turned his head to the clock on the bedside table. Sure enough it read a few minutes after one.
"I'm not kidding, Jake. It's 1pm on a Thursday and you, my lazy lover, are still in bed". She kissed his forehead.
"Jesus Christ, I think I've woken up in a parallel universe." He ran his fingers through his hair. "You're telling me I've slept for what, 9 hours? Not only that but you, Rachel Young, appear to be up and dressed and you've made me scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast with toast, not pancakes".
She laughed and got up off the bed. "Sit up, and I'll put the tray on your lap".
He turned and pulled the pillows up against the headboard and sat back. Rachel carefully placed the tray of food, juice, coffee and a folded newspaper on his lap.
"Where's my rosebud in a crystal vase?"
She flicked the back of his head lightly with her hand. "Listen sunshine, you're lucky to get this. Now, I need to call the office and get some more information about this case. Eat your breakfast & read the paper, quickly, and then get showered and dressed. You'll need to go home and pack don't forget".
He smirked at her and flicked his eyebrows; "I love it when you boss me around"
She shook her head at him and left the room.
Jacob swallowed a big mouthful of juice and ate a piece of bacon. He unfolded the newspaper and something fell out onto the bed. He picked it up. It was a red envelope with his name written on the front in Rachel's small, neat handwriting.
His heart stuttered for a moment. Why would she be writing him a note?
He opened the envelope and found a sheet of folded notepaper inside. He unfolded the paper and read the single sentence written there.
'Did you ever doubt that I loved you?'
He stared at it for a few moments and then let it drop to the bed. He rubbed his hands over his face, remembering the events of the night before.
Considering the amount that he and Frank had drank, as they always did on their nights at the club, he remembered every detail of the previous evening with remarkable clarity.
He remembered Frank giving him a couple of months to sort out his personal and working relationship with Rachel, he remembered going home and slicing up the painting, he remembered coming here and making love to Rachel. His groin flared at the erotic memory of it. It had been slow, seductive and sensual, exactly the way he liked his sex. He needed to teach Rachel how to slow down, how to relax and enjoy the moment. Sometimes he felt that she was only interested in the race to the finish line.
And he remembered her holding his face in her hands and telling him that she loved him.
He looked at the note again.
Did he ever doubt it? Of course he did.
He sighed, picked up the fork from the tray and began eating his eggs. As he ate, he thought about his conversation with Frank. Somehow, he didn't feel as anxious about it as he had done last night. He felt as though he had already decided, had been thinking about it in his sleep, and without really understanding how or why, had subconsciously made a decision.
He would arrange with Frank to have Rachel transferred to a higher level but safer position and he would accept one of the many research or lecturing or private enterprise positions that he was constantly being offered. That way they could both have relatively normal jobs, both stay in DC, he wouldn't be worried about her safety and he could escape from the relentlessly soul destroying heartbreak of his present role, and wouldn't need any kind of handler.
Frank wouldn't be happy with his leaving but there were other people he could recommend for the position. Other people just as capable as he. Well, almost as capable anyway. He laughed to himself, imagining Frank's reaction to his resignation.
Perfect. But he mustn't tell Rachel. He knew that she would fight him tooth and nail to keep her operational position. Fight tooth and nail to keep him with the FBI. No, she mustn't know. She didn't need to know.
Now he knew she loved him, he didn't need to worry so much about her leaving him to follow her job. And surely she would be happy with a higher-level position even if it were a desk job. Less travelling, less pain, less danger. He just needed to not tell her. Needed Frank to offer her the promotion. Needed to be surprised when it happened.
Rachel was finishing up her cell phone call as she walked back into the room. As she flipped her phone shut, her eyes fell to the opened envelope on the bed. She picked up the tray, slid it onto the side table and looked at him.
"So, you need to get up now" she said sternly.
"Come and sit with me for a little while" he replied. "Come on beautiful, let's enjoy our last few minutes together before we have to get on that damn plane".
She looked at him, eyebrows raised.
"No sex though, we don't have time"
"Alright, alright no sex," he replied, shrugging. "But I don't want to hear anything about the new case until I've done my seatbelt up on that aircraft".
"Deal"
She walked around to the other side of the bed and lay down next to him, head on his chest.
He could feel his heart beating under her soft cheek. He gently smoothed her fine blonde hair and kissed the top of her head.
"What did you and Frank talk about last night?" she asked him as she ran her hand over his chest.
He liked her absentmindedly playing with his chest hair as she often did. He liked her running her hand down his chest to his belly and……………..
'Concentrate Jacob' he thought to himself.
"Oh, just this and that. The same things we always talk about. Work. The old days".
"You seemed a little restless when you got here. I didn't even realise you were planning to come over".
"Neither did I to tell the truth. But you know I hate sleeping alone in that big empty house."
"You stank of cigars and whiskey you know. You still do, in fact".
He didn't reply straight away.
"I read your note, Rachel," he said quietly.
"I noticed"
"How could I possibly have known that you loved me if you've never told me?"
"Jake, I fell in love with you on that very first weekend at the beach house. You know that. Why would I spend all my free time with you, all my work time with you, have sex with you at every available opportunity, worry about you like I do, think about you, why would I do those things if I didn't love you? Good god, I buy dresses because I know you like them. Surely you know I love you, surely it's obvious".
"But I've never known it Rachel. I've hoped it. I've assumed it. But I've never known it. How could I if you don't tell me?"
She was silent for a while.
"You're quite high maintenance for a man you know".
"What?"
She dug him in the ribs playfully. "So I have to tell you I love you more often do I?. Do I have to bring you flowers as well? Take you to fancy restaurants?"
He pulled one of the pillows out from behind his back and whacked her with it.
"You" he said with a laugh, "are a fucking cheeky bitch".