Disclaimers: The characters in this story are copyrighted by Warner Brothers and Shoot The Moon Productions. I make no money from these characters; I simply like to share their world for a short time.

A/N Just a little glimpse into Lee's and Amanda's thoughts on their lives and relationship. (I put them side by side this time, as they really do parallel each other.) Hope you enjoy! (Constructive reviews are always welcome.) A special thanks to Bruce Boxleitner and Kate Jackson—as well as the rest of the cast—for portraying these characters so wonderfully.

Bullets. Up until a few years ago, she NEVER thought about those little pieces of metal that could so quickly wound or kill. Her boys didn't even own a toy gun! Since joining the Agency, unfortunately, she had seen her fair share of their destructive powers.

It was bad enough when a bullet found its way into the enemy. The pain and suffering it caused wasn't easy to watch. And it was so much worse when the wound resulted in death. No one deserved to die no matter what the crime. There had to be a better way to take out the enemy.

What was worse, however, was when a bullet found its way into one of the good guys. That's why she decided to shoot into the air at TransOceanic Industries that day. With her lack of firearms experience, combined with her aversion to guns and bullets, she surely would have taken out one of her friends. Luckily the bullet that was fired found its way into the ropes holding that fishing net. She had netted quite a catch, even if she did say so herself!

She knew that plenty of bullets had found their way into Lee; the marks they left were a constant reminder of the dangers of his job. Luckily many had just grazed him—and none had proved fatal. And she certainly hoped that none ever would.

She had to get her thoughts onto something more pleasant. Bullets were just too depressing!

Bullets. He had never really thought much about bullets before. His mind had always gone to the mechanism that delivered them—the gun. But the bullet was what entered the body-what ultimately pierced flesh and organs and bone. While bullets weren't lethal without a gun, a gun couldn't kill without them.

How could such a little thing cause so much destruction and heartache? Bullets had killed Dorothy. Eric had taken a bullet to save Lee's life. He had certainly fired his share of them into the world. Most times the bullets he fired were meant to scare. Sometimes it was necessary to put one into his foe, but he tried to aim for arms and legs. When it did become absolutely necessary to put a bullet into a vital body part, it was always as a last resort.

When he had been forced by Bracken to shoot Amanda, he had worried that the bullet would stray and actually strike her. While his aim was normally dead-on, the stress of the situation might have taken its toll. Luckily that particular bullet had missed its intended mark. Or had it reached its intended mark, as he had definitely intended to miss her? Now there was a conundrum!

Hmmm . . . either way, he was certain that he never wanted ANY bullet to find ANY part of her lovely body!

Brave. It was what she tried to be. Brave in facing her mother's relentless questions about her strange comings and goings, as well as her love life. Brave in talking to her sons about their father's lack of participation in their lives. Brave in tackling this whole new world of espionage. Brave in dealing with Francine, who seemed to think that a suburban housewife and mother of two couldn't make a substantial contribution to the Agency. Brave in dealing with Mr. Melrose, who kept throwing her into more and more involved and dangerous cases.

Brave in tackling those cases with determination and drive. Her lack of formal training held her back, but her intuition and analytical mind seemed to make up for that training. She couldn't honestly say that she was brave at all times. There had been many times when she truly wanted to break down and cry . . . run home to the shelter of her mother's arms . . . quit this entire 'spy' thing. But she had always been taught—and taught her boys—that quitting wasn't an option. By taking the package that day at the train station, she had signed up for a whirlwind course in bravery. A course in which she learned something new every day about herself and her ability to be brave.

And, after all, she couldn't be anything but brave when Lee was involved. Just the thought of him—the epitome of brave—gave her goosebumps . . . although she wasn't so sure the goosebumps were from the thought of his bravery.

Brave. Growing up with the Colonel, he had to be brave. Colonel Robert Clayton wouldn't allow any nephew of his to be otherwise. No sign of weakness was permitted to be shown in the Clayton household.

Everyone at the Agency thought he was brave—Billy, Francine, Amanda, even Dr. Smyth at times. But was he really brave, or was it simply a reckless regard for his own safety? When he was on a case alone, he certainly thought that. What did his life really matter, anyway? The only family he had was the Colonel, and he wasn't even sure that his uncle would mourn his passing for more than a moment or two.

When he was on a case with another agent, however—that was when he was brave. Or at least that's how it appeared to everyone else. He really wasn't brave; he was simply scared sh**less that something would happen to the other person. If it meant that he had to act brave to save the other person's skin, then so be it. But it wasn't bravery; it was pure unadulterated fear. Because he knew he certainly wasn't brave enough to face the loss of another partner—especially if that partner was Amanda.

Hmmm . . . Now if he was only brave enough to tell Amanda how he really felt about her.

Blessed. Yes, she was truly blessed. She had the best mother and sons a woman could ask for. She even had a wonderful ex-husband. Working with the PTA, she had certainly heard the stories about how nasty a divorce could be and how antagonistic ex-spouses could be to each other. Weren't they thinking about the kids and their fragile feelings? That's just it . . . they weren't thinking. But Joe was different. She had been blessed to find him, marry him, and bear his two sons. And while the marriage hadn't worked out, she was blessed that the two of them had put their differences aside and worked things out amicably. With Joe back in DC now, she was even blessed to have him becoming an ever-increasing part of their sons' lives.

She had also been blessed with a steady job these past few years. It wasn't exactly a conventional 9-5 gig, but she certainly did enjoy it. The additional blessing of the job was that she worked with such incredible people. Mr. Melrose was a peach of a boss. While she and Francine had gotten off to a somewhat rocky start, they were beginning to develop a true friendship—of sorts! Emily was like a favorite aunt, and Leatherneck was the cool older brother she never had. Even Beaman and Fielder weren't that bad! Then there was her 'partner'—Lee.

She certainly was blessed to have found him at the train station that day. Or had he found her. It didn't really matter, she thought. Their relationship had been blessed from the start by all those men in the red hats!

Blessed. Now there was a word he definitely could NOT relate to. Nothing in his life was blessed. He was orphaned at the age of five and sent to live with an uncle that barely tolerated him. He had moved a grand total of nine times till he graduated from high school. Then it was on to five different colleges before he finally managed to graduate. Maybe the only blessing in his life came when he was recruited by Harry V. Thornton to join the Agency. At least here he had found a home of sorts.

Harry was the kind, indulgent grandfather he had never known. Billy was like a father to him—certainly more of one than his uncle had ever been. While Francine definitely had her 'moments,' he could imagine having a sister just like her—if his parents had lived long enough to give him one.

But he was definitely not BLESSED. Someone blessed would never be tied up, shot, beaten, interrogated, drugged, or kidnapped. And he had been all that—many times over.

Then again, there had to have been someone watching over him at the train station that October day. Someone had to have sent him the woman with the gorgeous chocolate brown eyes to take the package from him.

Hmmm . . . maybe he was blessed. Amanda certainly seemed to be sent from above.

Boring. She could sum that up in one word . . . Dean. She had no doubt that the man had loved her. But could he have been any more boring? Even her boys were bored with him. After all, they had put sugar in his gas tank, hoping to liven things up. All it did was embarrass her; Dean hadn't even commented on the prank. Did nothing phase the man?

Oh, he was dependable . . . and predictable . . . and BORING! It didn't matter what her mother said. She knew her mother wanted her married again. Her mother's generation seemed to think that a woman's life wasn't complete without a husband and children. The children she had (and loved dearly) . . . it was the husband she could do without. Especially if that husband was as dull and boring as Dean.

And what kind of weatherman doesn't want to drive his car in the rain anyway? And it wasn't even raining; there was only a 35% chance of rain in the forecast! And he was the weatherman that had done the forecasting!

Then again . . . if Dean had driven himself to the train station that October morning, she never would have met Lee. Now there was the most 'unboring' man she had ever known. Just thinking about the man made the word 'boring' leave her conscious brain.

Boring. Definitely not a description of his life. He had traveled the world many times over-first with his uncle, then as part of his numerous assignments with the Agency. He had met heads of state, royalty, and fellow agents from just about every country on the face of the earth. He had dined with most everyone from the society pages of the most prestigious newspapers. He had also danced with many of them. Hell, he had bedded his fair share of them. He was never alone on a Saturday night . . . unless he wanted to be.

Then there was the matter of his job. How could being kidnapped, shot, beaten, drugged, etc., be boring. Ok . . . so it wasn't exactly normal . . . but no one in his right mind would term it boring.

No, boring was the paperwork and filing that accompanied his being kidnapped, shot, beaten, drugged, etc. Never his strong suit, he prided himself on being able to pawn his reports off on the unsuspecting ladies of the steno pool. A flash of that famous Stetson smile here, some dimples there, a wink over that way, and the 'boring' part of his job was done for him.

Since Amanda had come into his life, however, the boring part of the job had begun to be a little less so. She seemed to make even paperwork fun, as long as she was there helping him do it.

Hmmm . . . he could stand a little 'boring' if it included Amanda!

Beauty. She had always tried to see the beauty in everything. That was one of the reasons she loved camping with the boys. While they were still tucked snug in their sleeping bags, she would be up watching the sun rise over the mountains. Then there was the beauty of the babbling brook next to their usual campsite. And the trees—especially in autumn when they turned their lovely shades of yellow, orange, and red. She couldn't forget the wildlife, either. The fawns with their mothers in early spring, the birds with their bright feathers singing up in the trees, the butterflies flitting from one flower to the other, the flowers themselves . . . the list just went on and on. She couldn't think of a thing in nature that wasn't beautiful. Well . . . maybe she'd have to reconsider . . . the mosquitoes of summer definitely were NOT beautiful!

But there were so many other beautiful things out there. She lived in DC, one of the most beautiful cities in the world. There was something about the Washington Monument, the Capitol Building, the White House, the Lincoln Memorial, the Vietnam Memorial, the Reflecting Pool, the Jefferson Memorial . . .

Those last two things brought to mind something—or rather someone—else beautiful . . . Lee. It wasn't just that he was gorgeous, which he was! But there was more to it. Once you got to know him—really KNOW him—he had a truly beautiful soul. And that was something rare in the dark world of espionage.

His parents would certainly be proud of how he had turned out, she thought.

Beauty. Wow! That was a loaded word if he ever heard one. He had definitely dated his share of beautiful women. There were blonds, brunettes, and redheads. Some were tall, while some were petite. Many were, how should he put it . . . well-endowed?!

Most who saw his dates would say that they were, indeed, beautiful. Even he had thought so at the time. After all, if they weren't beautiful, he probably wouldn't have been dating them.

But the well-worn phrase "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder" came to mind. Right now, if he was to 'behold' most of these previous dates, he would find them lacking. Maybe not in surface beauty, but in a more important area—inner beauty.

When he contemplated inner beauty, he immediately thought of Amanda. Not that she wasn't a beautiful woman; she was actually drop-dead gorgeous. Her hair—especially when she wore it up with those little tendrils trailing down her neck. Her huge chocolate-brown eyes—especially when they widened in surprise. Her cute little nose—especially when she wrinkled it up the way she did when she was trying to figure out a case. Her smile—especially when it continued through her cheeks and ended in her eyes.

But it was her sunny personality, her dogged determination, her unwavering loyalty, her endless generosity . . . her . . . her . . . her everything!

Hmmm . . . you're in serious trouble here, Stetson! You're not falling for her—you've already hit the ground hard!