A/N: I had never thought about doing a 'missing scene' type fic. But the ending of the infamous panic button scene in Resurrection had always bugged me. Really, Rachel is just going to walk away and leave Hood sitting in the bar? I don't think so.

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


Her relief at finding her charge safe was quickly replaced by a mounting anger. Struggling to keep the fury she was feeling from showing, Special Agent Rachel Young looked into the impossibly innocent face of her current charge, Dr. Jacob Hood. Her eyes flicked beyond, around him taking in the situation. 'Shit, who would have thought there would be this many people in the lobby bar at this time of night.'

At the sight of the smirk on the bartender's face she glanced down and was mortified to see that her robe had fallen open revealing one breast encased in a black lace bra. Lowering her weapon, she used the other hand to pull her robe into place. She silently repeated her manta to herself. 'I am a federal agent. Federal agents do not blush, they do not get flustered.' She narrowed her eyes and glared at her charge. 'They take names and kick ass.'

"Chug it or bring it." Rachel was satisfied to see the slightly amused expression on Hood's face turn into one of confusion.

"I beg your pardon?"

"That drink you needed so badly you broke protocol and left your room." Rachel explained flatly. "Since I am escorting you back to your room right now, I suggest you either chug it or bring it along with you."

Jacob thought of protesting but the implacable look on Rachel's face changed his mind. He tried to apologize to her as they paced along the hotel's corridors but Rachel remained silent. Jacob gaped in surprise as they approached his room and he saw the splintered door jam. He suddenly felt a pang of remorse; perhaps the reason Rachel was walking so stiffly wasn't due solely to her anger with him. He realized that she might be in pain.

His eyes dropped to Rachel's feet. They were bare, and like the rest of her, they were slender and delicate looking. And, like the rest of her, obviously much stronger than they appeared.

His lips twitched. Her feet also sported shiny red toenail polish. He opened his mouth to comment on this fact but his smart remark died on his lips at the deadpan look on her face. He quickly substituted a more appropriate question.

"Ah, did you hurt your foot?"

Rachel shouldered her way past Hood into the room. She quickly cleared it and gestured for him to come inside. "It's fine." She wouldn't admit it to Hood, but now that the adrenaline was wearing off, her foot hurt like hell.

"Your things, get them together."

"What, why?" Jacobs's brow creased in confusion.

"This room is no longer secure, you can't spend the night here." Rachel explained. "You'll spend the night in my room, I'll take this one."

Jacob began to argue but Rachel cut him off in mid-sentence.

"It's my job to secure your position at all times. I do not feel like dealing with the hotel manager right now and getting you a new room. This is the simplest solution. I suggest you quit arguing with me and get your things together."

Jacob obediently shoved his belongs into his duffle. He grabbed it, his portable lab kit and his laptop and meekly followed her down the corridor to her room.

Rachel breathed a silent sigh of relief when she saw that her door had not closed all the way. When she had rocketed out of the room at the sound of Hood's panic button, the only things she had focused on were getting into her robe and grabbing her weapon.

She once again shouldered past Hood and checked out the room. Satisfied that it was secure, she waved him in. Rachel quickly gathered up her clothes that were in a pile by the side of the bed and grabbed her suitcase. 'Guess it's just as well I didn't unpack earlier.'

"Throw the security bolt and latch the chain after I leave. I will be back to pick you up at 0800 hours tomorrow. I highly suggest that you do not try to leave this room until then." Rachel regarded Hood coldly. "Is that clear?"

Murmuring his assent and once again trying to apologize, Jacob followed Rachel to the door. As they reached it Rachel paused. She turned and looked at Hood through narrowed eyes.

"Oh, by the way. Your panic button? It's indented. You can't set it off accidentally by sitting on it." She smiled grimly at Hood's shocked face. "So something like this will never happen again. Do. You. Understand. Me?"

Jacob looked at her mutely and nodded his head. With a final sniff, Rachel stalked from the room, slamming the door behind her.

A look of reluctant admiration came over Jacob's face. 'Damn, she's the first one with either the brains or the balls to call me out on this.' Shrugging out of his jacket, he wandered over to the bed where he had dropped his duffle. The books Rachel left on the bedside table caught his eye.

A small smile tugged at his lips. The Art of War and Chemistry for Dummies. He thought about her handling of Sanders, the way her mind had carelessly thrown out the clue as to the identity of Geppetto's client, her determination to succeed where the others had failed. 'Obviously, there's more to this one than I anticipated.'

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

Rachel sighed in relief as she applied the make-shift ice pack to her aching foot. It wasn't swollen, so she didn't think anything was broken. Experience had taught her to always travel with a first aid kit; so once she had iced her foot, she'd apply a compression bandage and sleep with it propped up on a couple of pillows. By the morning it should be fine. She grunted. 'Even if it isn't fine, I'll be damned if I'll let Hood know.'

Snorting with amusement, Rachel recalled the shocked look on Hood's face when she confronted him about the panic button. If he thought he was going to get rid of her with school-boy tricks like that, he had another think coming. 'I may not be a brilliant biophysicist, but I sure as hell wasn't born yesterday.'

Her foot iced, wrapped, and elevated, Rachel finally drifted off to sleep. She smiled smugly as she considered, that, in their ongoing battle of wits; she had definitely won the last round.