Geoffrey Rimes finally opened the file Betty Jo had picked up over lunch after a dinner that had nothing in common with the one served in Old Park Lane beyond the involvement of food.  He lived alone in a small apartment off Dupont Circle that he'd rented when his then wife had thrown him out, citing her amazement that he even knew where the house was given the amount of time he didn't spend there as the reason.  He'd stood considering her words and actions, and decided he agreed.  That single decision had gone a long way towards making the practical process of unentangling their lives as cordial as such a thing could be.

He rarely thought of her now.  If he did it was on the rare occasions when he noticed he was tired of take out and frozen food or that his tee shirts were a sort of gray they'd never been when she'd been doing his laundry.  Then he'd buy new tee shirts or eat out for a while and the thought would pass like a temptation to sin.  Tonight he heated the remains of the Indian take out he'd picked up last night in the microwave in the same containers he'd brought it home in.  Then, opening a bottle of water, one of his few concessions to healthy living, he spent an efficient ten minutes eating out of the same containers and cleaning up the evidence of his culinary indifference.

He sat down with the file, two fingers of Glenlevit next to him and WGMS 103.5 fm, an exclusively classical station, barely audible in the background.  The file wasn't that long but its contents were dense.  He finished the scotch and the file together before pouring another two fingers  of scotch and turning the volume up  from barely audible to only just audible and gave himself over to consideration of what he'd read.  The DEA, unlike its cousins, was slightly less territorial about its area of operation.  That Terry Marsh had passed the file to Betty and had planned to do so even before knowing he was being recruited was a major statement of intent.  Reading the file he understood why.

DEA was into something with facets they didn't understand.  Rimes wasn't entirely sure he understood them all himself, but had no doubt he understood more of them than did the DEA.  His understanding left no room to just toss the file in the shredder and say sorry, not my problem.  It was his problem in as much as it fell within the mandate of the Zoo.  It's newly expanded mandate that is.  He sipped his scotch for a while and thought about where he and his fledgling agency were headed and how to manage the trip so that he stayed in control.  And, more importantly, so that they all stayed out of the limelight, had what they needed to do the more important work of building relationships while monitoring the paranormal activity that most believed didn't exist, and stayed alive while they did it.

This case read like the plot synopsis of the next Lethal Weapon movie or maybe a James Bond flick, he wasn't sure which.  Organized crime, drug trafficking, lots of money, and strange, inexplicable happenings amid the tawdry, neoned playground of Las Vegas.  He was still musing on the ramifications of it all when he went bed.  When the phone rang a few hours later he realized he'd been dreaming about it too so it didn't surprise him that his caller was the head of operations at DEA.  It did surprise him he was sharing the news that two of their agents had disappeared and were presumed dead given the circumstances.

"So Geoff, we had them under surveillance, no one should have been able to get in or out that we didn't know about.  Only someone did, and took my guys with them when they left."

Rimes sat up in bed and switched on the light.  "I'm sorry to hear that, Greg.  I read the file you sent over with Marsh.  I was going to call you in the morning.  I assume you want us to take the case."

"I had more an idea of shared responsibility. You're small, you'll need more personnel than you have."

"Hang on a sec," Rimes said and thought about it while he went to the bathroom and then got some milk, one of the maybe five things in his refrigerator that weren't condiments.  Back in bed he said, "I'd have to have complete operational control."

"Geoff, you know I can't cede you that."

"Now that the pro forma protest is recorded, let's get real, okay?  You know how I work.  You knew it when you sent me the file.  So you knew I'd demand that.  Ergo you have a solution.  It's almost three in the morning and I'm tired, so spit it out."

"I've lost two agents, Geoff. I have little hope their still alive. If that's the case I want their killers. I'll let you run the op with my full backing so long as it's my agency that gets the arrest. You want to stay in the shadows so that should work for you. We can also structure future ops if this one works out, us backing you up when needed."

Rimes didn't say anything for a full two minutes, the seconds stretching out like eternity.  "Okay.  That works.  Can you get everything you have to my office first thing this morning?  Along with Terry Marsh on temp to me and whoever's running it at your place to brief?"

"You only want Terry on temp? Somehow I thought you had something more permanent in mind for him," Greg replied with a snort. "Yes. It's Johnson who's running it. He'll be at your office first thing to brief you."

Rimes laughed.  "We're hoping he'll come over, but it's up to him" he said.  "I'll keep you posted.  And I'm sorry about your people.  Let me know if there's anything else I can do."

"Will do, Geoff. I hope your folks can stay safe there. It's .. beyond the strangeness of events, there seems to be an agenda we aren't getting at, and that worries me deeply."

"Hmmm.  Well let me hear what Johnson has to say and I'll get back to you.  And if anything comes up and you can't reach me, Coop has full authority."

"Yes, right. I'll be up on the Hill tomorrow morning, but I'll be reachable after lunch. Johnson can arrange things in the meantime. Night."

"Good night," Rimes echoed and hung up the phone.  He lay without trying to get back to sleep, staring at the ceiling, for an hour or more.  Then he got up, showered, dressed, and bought a McMuffin and a cup of coffee on the way to his office.  Just another day in the life of a civil servant he thought as he flipped on the office lights.  He probably ought to talk to Coop about setting up a nap room here along with an operations center.  They were going to need them and Congress at the moment was giving him money by the handful.

He heard Betty Jo arrive about four thirty and Coop about six thirty.  Leroy was next at seven and the Billie and Bobbie a few minutes later.  When his secretary arrived he asked her to set up for the meeting, warn Leroy and the sisters and send out for some bagels or something.   So he was ready when Johnson knocked on his door at eight thirty, Terry Marsh behind him and both of them carrying a box of documents.  He grinned and pointed them to the conference room and sent Mary to get Coop and the others.

"There's coffee, if you want some," he said, picking up his own cup.

Johnson had dark circles under his eyes. From the look of it he hadn't slept at all. He helped himself to the coffee silently. Terry and Coop shook hands, sharing a few friendly words as the others came in and took their seats. "Leroy, this is Saul Johnson and Terry Marsh from DEA. Gentlemen, Leroy Saunders, formerly with Little Rock PD."

Leroy nodded as he slumped down in his seat. He looked very young indeed compared to the other men in the room, although Terry probably wasn't that much older than Leroy. Still, losing a colleague tended to make for 24/7 working hours and solemn dispositions.

Rimes spelled out the background and then turned the meeting over to Johnson.

Johnson ran through what they had, clearly, competently and succinctly. He put no spin on things, only stating what was known, not what was surmised. "I've brought the CCTV footage we have as well. It doesn't show much."  Then he passed out photos of the known suspects. "Here's the members of the ring we've identified so far, along with their background info, so far as we know it. We had two agents inside. They're both missing, presumed dead."

"You have anyone else there, Saul?  Or an insider?" Betty Jo asked.

"Yeah we've got an informant. She's terrified. needless to say. She wants us to get her out of there. We're considering it, if we can't figure out a way to provide her some protection."

"So basically you have a lot of money moving into the casino as losses at the tables from people who have no business having that kind of money," Bobby said, looking a the photo's spread out in front of her.  "And periodically familiar faces are winning very large amounts, while the casino is reporting enormous profits.  When you track the profits they're going to entities that immediately send them offshore.  All business as usual, but on the basis of that you put a guy in place who turned this woman.  Now the guy and his partner are missing.  Along the way you've documented a number of paranormal incidents so we're going in while you back us up."  She looked over at Saul, an eyebrow elevated.  "I'm not trying out for the chorus line."

"You'd be more useful as cocktail waitresses or dealers, frankly. The dancers are just window dressing," Saul replied deadpan.

She winced and looked her sisters.  "They work in spikes, the waitresses anyway.  And very little else.  They're union too.  Sounds like it was made for us."

Billie smothered a laugh and nodded; "Yep.  I assume you can get us hired without a problem.  So how soon do you want us in place?"

Betty, watching Saul, sighed.  "Yesterday, right?"

"Afraid so. Leroy, how are you with a deck of cards?" Saul asked.

Leroy smiled.

Betty Jo left her sisters and Leroy to start getting things set and went to her appointment, promising to bring lunch back with her.  She'd put the visit off as long as she could, being not just busy with other things but also, she knew, because she hated pelvic exams, even when performed by a female who was as sensitive as one might want to the inherent potential for uncomfortability and embarrassment involved in the procedure.  But if she wanted her prescription for birth control refilled she had to have the exam.  And she definitely wanted it refilled.

She signed in and only had to wait ten minutes before being handed a paper gown and paper slippers to keep her feet warm along with a cup to pee into and leave on the counter.  After she'd changed she only had to wait another fifteen minutes for the exam, preceded by the ritual questions and conversation to provide distraction and the efficient breast exam that she always thought came first to ease the way into the main event.  After she was more than happy to be told to dress and then have a seat in the office for the closing ritual of warnings, reminders and prescriptions.

She was seated and leafing through a magazine that didn't interest her when her doctor came in and closed the door.  She set it aside and smiled.  "So I'm healthy, I should be sure to do weekly breast exams and see you in six months, right?" she said.

The doc took a seat and regarded Betty Jo for a time. "I've some news for you," she said. "I'm not sure how you'll take it so I'll just tell you right out. You're pregnant."

Betty Jo heard her and then heard the strangest buzzing sound in her ears, like bees had suddenly invaded, while the room start to spin.  She was trying to speak when she found herself with her head between her knees and her doctor telling her to take deep breaths.  She decided that she liked that advice in spite of the ammonia smell she couldn't evade.  When she was allowed to sit up again the buzzing and dizziness had faded.  She licked her lips to moisten them and said, "You're sure?" even though what she really wanted to say was I can't be, I use birth control.

"We tested you twice, to be certain. Cease the birth control pills, at least until you decide what to do about this. So far as I can see, everything is fine. You're a healthy woman, young, no reason to think this will be a difficult pregnancy. As to the father, I hope he too is healthy and with good genes. Otherwise.." the doctor shrugged. "You said on your paperwork your last period was regular and uneventful, so that means you're about three weeks pregnant. We'll do further tests to be certain, but it's a starting point."

"What do you mean you hope he's healthy with good genes or otherwise?  Otherwise what?"

"Otherwise, if he's on drugs or has a serious medical condition I hope you'll tell me that.  His history, as much as you know of it, would be helpful to use to monitor your pregnancy. I meant no more than that, Betty Jo."

"Oh," she said faintly, feeling like an idiot.  "He's...he's healthy and there's nothing to worry about there."  She looked at the doctor still dazed.  "So, uhm, anything else?"

"Would you like a number for a counselor? Someone you can talk this over with?"

She blinked, startled out of her daze by the suggestion.  "Uhm, no I don't think so.  I just wasn't expecting this.  I just need to get used to the idea, take it in, if that makes sense."

"Of course it does, Betty Jo. You've told me you want kids. Just think of this as a slight nudge in that direction. It's none of my business, but I do hope the father is someone you care about. If so, you might actually want to talk it over with him. If he loves you, he might surprise you."

"Yes, he and I...of course I'll talk with him about it."

The nurse has some prescriptions for you. Vitamins, that sort of thing. And some information on what to expect over the next few weeks. Also numbers for other services if you need them. Just take your time. No hurry on this. Get used to the idea."

"Yeah, I...thank you.  And I'll let you know," Betty Jo said, standing up.  She took a deep breath and found a smile.  "Thank you."  She shook hands with her and left, taking the prescriptions -- and not the one she'd come for -- with her as she left.  She remembered at the last minute to pick up lunch and stopped at Starbucks for fortification as well.  She recalled the caffeine issue in time to order decaf, but threw caution to the wind on everything else as was her wont when under severe stress.  She forgot, however, the acuity of her sisters and their familiarity with her response to stress.

She was smiling brightly when she walked into the conference room, setting the bag on the table.  "Sorry I was so long."  She took a drink of her latte and sat down.

Billie started to say something and stopped, her eyes on the large cup.  Then she looked at her face.  "You alright, honey?" she asked.

Bobbie looked up at that and saw the same signs.  "No she's not," she said before Betty could answer.  "What is it?"

Betty started to say something and then stopped.  "When are we leaving?" she asked finally.

"Tomorrow.  I'm going in tonight. Oh..." Leroy added as he looked at Betty Jo then at her sisters. "I'll uhm, take my lunch and leave you guys to it, right?"

"No, that's alright honey.  I uhm, I'm real sorry but I need to leave if ya'll can handle this without me.  I'll uhm meet you in the morning, okay?"

Billie and Bobbie exchanged a look and then Bobbie said, "We got it honey.  You do what you need to do."

"Right, later ladies." Leroy left whistling, but casting one last worried look back before he shut the door.

Betty looked at her sisters and shook her head.  "I'll explain tomorrow.  I can't right now.  I'm really sorry," she said and then she hugged them both, picked up her latte and winked out, reappearing at what had so recently become her home.  He'd told her he expected to be home all day today, working.  She looked around the hallway, suddenly terrified.  She couldn't imagine a worse combination of news for him than the one she had; she was going undercover in the morning and she was pregnant.  She swallowed some of the latte and then said a swift, fervent prayer before knocking on the study door.  When he answered she took a deep breath and went in.  "Hullo," she said.

A smile lit his face at the unexpectedness of her arrival. "How nice to see you so early. Or..." his smile faded. "What is it?"

Trust him to know something was wrong.  "Well...a couple of things have come up that I need to talk to you about."  There was no way to ease into this, she realized.

He got up and walked over to wrap her in his arms. "You're going undercover," he guessed.  "Thus bringing Terry to reassure me."

She nodded and buried her face in his neck for a moment.  "In the morning."

"For how long, have you any idea? "

"No, I don't, but I hope not for very long.  I uh, we already know there's a case and that helps."

"And will Terry be your handler?" She could feel his tension but his voice sounded calm enough.

"Rimes got him detached from DEA.  We're picking up a case of theirs.  It'll be all four of us, actually," she added.

"Ah, well I'm glad to know you won't be 'going in' - is that the correct term? - alone then. But.. why are you taking up a case that belongs to the DEA? I thought your brief was, well, not drugs."

"There appears to be an element of talent involved.  People disappearing, things like that.  They asked us and Rimes won't take a case he doesn't control so they handed it off.  They'll be providing back up, though.  And the arrest will be theirs, too."

"So you people can remain suitably anonymous, I assume. So what is it you are reluctant to tell me about?"

She couldn't think of any way to really ease into it that wasn't cowardly.  So she lifted her head from his chest and just said it, her eyes on his, like the doctor had said it to her.  "I'm pregnant."

He was silent for what felt like forever to her, all the time searching her eyes. "Ah. I suppose offering you a drink is out of the question. Would you mind terribly if I had one, whilst I... mull this over?"

"Not at all," she said, letting him go and stifling the feeling of bereftness.  She felt panic licking at the edges of her composure and forced it away, drawing on all her knowledge of him to just wait, giving him all the room she could, making no demands.

He poured himself a drink and got her a glass of soda water. "Come sit with me," he said quietly, as he walked over to the couch, waiting for her to sit beside him.  Once she was settled he commented, again his voice quiet, only a tiny bit of emotion in it, "Have you even had time to consider this yourself?"

"No," she said.  "I found out about an hour ago.  I'd have waited until I had considered it, to tell you but...well with the other it didn't seem right."

"I see. A shock, surely. Even more so for you than for me."  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Well, I can't see asking you how you feel about it since clearly you aren't sure just yet."

She just turned into him, getting as close as she could. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? I'd say we're at least equally to blame, wouldn't you?  Is... is everything all right, other than.. well, are you all right physically?"

She nodded.  "I'm healthy as a horse, or so I've been led to believe and I feel fine.  She, my doctor, anticipates no problems.  She said I'm, at most, three weeks along."

"So, you .. what, went in for routine maintenance?" he asked, smiling slightly. "And got a sudden shock for your pains."

She smiled at that.  "Yes, to uhm, renew the birth control prescription, in fact.  I got a couple of prescriptions, just not ones I wanted "  She looked up at him.  "You appear to be taking this remarkably well or is it just shock delaying the reaction?"

"Well, it isn't something we can change. And apparently it isn't even something we can rationally discuss just yet. And you're going off tomorrow, putting yourself in great danger, now while pregnant, and I'm going to have to sit by the fire and wait for you. Not a very comfortable situation for me."

"No it won't be," she agreed.  "If there's any way to make that easier I want to know, so please tell me."

"About the only thing that might, locking you in a nunnery somewhere, is, I'm afraid, off the table. So.. If I give you something will you promise to wear it 24/7, even in the shower, until you come home?'

"Yes, of course."

"Thank you. I'll need a couple of hours then and I'll have it ready for you in the morning."

"You want to tell me about it?  What it will do?"

"I'll explain it when I've managed to do it, how about that? Also, will you tell your sisters?  And Terry?"

"That I'm pregnant or wearing it?"

"That you're pregnant," he replied.

"I don't know.  Do you want me to?" she asked.

"I think it's something they should know. But if you want to keep it quiet I will honor that."

"They probably should," she said.  "My reluctance is about not knowing what we're going to do.  I'll let you know before I leave, okay?"

"Let me know what?" he asked. "Whether you're telling them or what we're going to do."

She smiled.  "Whether I'm going to tell them.  I don't imagine we'll know the other for a while."  She looked at him for a moment.  "Are there any alternatives that aren't an option for you?"

"None I can think of short of breaking up with you over this."

She nodded, not trusting her voice and leaned her forehead against his cheek.

"Do you have to go back to work?" he asked, stroking her shoulder and arm.

"No, not 'til early tomorrow morning.  I dumped everything on Billie and Bobbie.  Leroy's going in tonight; Terry will too and DEA will pull the people they have there back."

"All right. Why don't you go upstairs and have a soak, do whatever you need to do to think on it, or not think on it, and I'll be in my workshop for a few hours. If you want to join me there feel free. But I warn you it will be quite boring."

"Let me change and get Collins started on packing and I'll join you there in a while."  She smiled and kissed him softly.  "I love you."

"Right. I'm still considering a dungeon and chains however, so perhaps love is not a wise word at this point.  See you soon."  She felt his eyes on her until she exited the room closing the door behind herself.

Ian looked over at the mantle clock in his bedroom. Their bedroom. He hated that it was inexorably heading toward dawn but could think of no way to stop it and even if he could, well, he doubted Betty Jo would appreciate such officious interference in her life. She was compliant about some things, mostly things she had no emotional interest in. But this... And he had no right to expect her to forgo the dangers of her job, even if she was carrying their child. Well, hardly a child. A tiny bunch of cells only at this point, and it was only the miracles of modern science that could even let them know that tiny thing was growing in her. Only a fluke. A wild chance that had her go to see her GYN today of all days.

He looked down when she stirred beside him and smiled when her eyes flickered open to look up at him. He loved the hint of a smile on her lips when she awoke. He loved how her hair fell on the pillow, how the light highlighted the curve of her cheekbone, the determination in her jaw, the.. "Hullo," he said.

"Hi."  She caressed his cheek with her hand.

"I'm sorry if I woke you. I find I can't sleep."

"Don't be.  I'm not."

He took her hand in his and ran a finger along the ring he'd put there earlier. It was a simple gold band, a pinkie ring, something with almost no actual value, making it less likely to bring attention to itself.  "You don't mind this?" he asked. Again. "I don't want you to feel you have to do things just for me, Betty Jo. Really."

"I don't do it for you.  I do it for us, or me even which is pretty selfish.  On the other hand..."  She paused and sat up on the pillows a bit.  "Why is it that you seem almost preternaturally worried that you're dominating me and I'm just submitting to it?  It sometimes seems to me like you think you're not allowed to have emotional needs or if you are that you aren't allowed any expectation that I might have a vested interest in meeting them and don't see them as an imposition or an attempt at dominance at all?"

One side of his mouth curved up in a half smile. "I blame Adele. She calls me a heartless bastard who orders people around without a thought. So I've been trying my best to be more modern about things. More like Leroy who seems to have no trouble accepting that you three are just as competent as he is, if not more so."

"Ian trust me on this one.  If I start feeling like you're ordering me around you'll be the first to know.  Probably because I'll start demanding that you stop, taking your daughter as my model.  The other thing is Leroy, so far as I can tell, can take that tack so long as the female in question, at least these days, isn't Billie, though he'd die before he admitted it."

"Ah, so it isn't all my imagination there."

She laughed.  "No it's not and he's probably in for a tough time with it.  So, no I don't mind the ring at all.  I like that you care enough to both do it and, perversely, to worry."

"Yes, well, after Bhutan... You've no idea how hard it is not to just try to talk you out of going.  I'm an old-fashioned man, no matter how much I try to hide it. I want the woman I love at home, safe, whilst I save the world. When it's the other way round I feel as if I'm not merely an ass but a weak-willed fool."

"I knew you were when I fell in love with you. It's part of the attraction." She shifted so that she was straddling him, able to see his whole face. "And no I don't know, but I can feel the strain in you and see the tension in your jaw. She drew her fingers along it, feeling the muscle flicker under them. "So I'm not sure how you get to weak-willed fool when the effort it takes to not do it is so great. But that's rational and this isn't."

"Hmmm," he muttered as he reached out to cup one of her breasts in his hand. "You'd better be careful or I will never forgive you." He met her eyes, his narrowed. "And take care of your sisters and that silly ass Leroy."

"We take care of each other," she said. "And I'll tell them," she added, assisting his access by leaning forward a bit. He pulled her towards him kissing her roughly. She went willingly, wanting him like she'd never had him before and never would again. She moaned, deep in her throat, a flagrant, blatant sound to incite him on as she shifted, gripping his hips with her knees, opening to meet his upward thrust with a fluid sliding motion, taking him inside her as deeply as she could. Then she found and met his rhythm, letting her breath out on a long drawn yes she hadn't willed.

He watched her, aroused by every curve of her, every expression, aroused even more by her need and want and desire. He put his hands on her hips to steady her, to encourage her, to help her reach that point where your muscles go weak but you can't stop, and your body ignores your brain and your screaming muscles and climaxes until you collapse. He watched her as the moment approached, marveling in her, and lost in the beauty of the moment, holding to his own need in an effort to meet hers. When the explosion came he caught her scream, the sound of his name, in his mouth and rolled her under him with a practiced motion. Then, giving her no time to recover, he flung her into the whirlpool again, letting the orgasm that overtook her this time take him with her.

As his orgasm began to ease he felt her nails, her hands gripping him with a death grip, tears on his shoulder. She was still spasming from her own climax, shuddering against him, whimpering with the strength of it. When he was sure he could move, he eased his weight off of her and rolled to lay beside her wrapping her up in his arms, ignoring the tears, or at least not ready to mention them before she did. He lay beside her, his eyes closed, his arms holding her lightly now, his heart still hammering in his chest, his breath still raspy.

She drifted back to the place where thought existed slowly, the salt taste of her tears in her mouth, listening to the beat of his heart and feeling the warm huff of his breathing in her ear. Her reluctance to move was a tangible thing she didn't try to fight. Instead she pressed a kiss on his chest, smoothing her hands over his back, feeling no need to speak and wanting to imprint the moment on her memory so she could bring it out again while she was gone and savor it when he wasn't there. So she opened her senses to him as wide as she could, each one of them, cataloguing his scent, spicy and slightly intoxicating, highlighting the taste of his skin, salty and sweet on her tongue, warm and resilient against her lips, and made more compelling by the rasp of the hair on his chest against her still sensitive nipples. She heard the notes of his breathing as it evened out, becoming deeper and the thud of his heart as it steadied and slowed. She sought it all out and wrote it on her consciousness, burning it deep, tying it to the feeling of peace that surrounded her and the love she felt for him that made her throat ache.

"Sleep, my darling. Sleep," he said, in a sort of sing-song that made her eyes grow heavy, her mind knowing she was safe and cherished. She slept, and he held her until dawn.