Disclaimer: "Scarecrow and Mrs. King" belongs to Warner Bros. and Shoot the Moon Productions. I'm borrowing their characters for what I hope will be our mutual enjoyment.
Amanda struggled to take in all the sights and sounds that surrounded her, as she was led from the entrance of the Central Intelligence Agency's Langley headquarters to an area where their prisoners were held. She hadn't expected to get an opportunity to satisfy her curiosity about the inner-workings of the insular intelligence gathering organization, but under the current circumstances, she'd prefer to be any place but there.
The taciturn agent whose custody she'd been in, and she did feel more like a prisoner than a colleague since her arrival, stopped abruptly and turned to her, with a dour expression on his face.
"Agent King, I hope that you appreciate that we contacted you as a courtesy to another member of the intelligence community."
"Thank you for your courtesy," she replied in such a deceptively polite voice that the agent before her didn't realize how irritated she was by his condescending attitude towards her. "I'd be even more appreciative if you'd tell me why you've taken my partner into custody?"
"Your alleged partner, we haven't ascertained that Mr. Stetson-"
"Agent Stetson," she interjected, as the burly man continued to look down at her, despite her best effort to stand as tall as possible.
"I'll grant you fifteen minutes with my prisoner, whoever he may be, as long as you live up to the ground rules that we discussed. Do we have a deal?"
"Yes." What choice do I have? She stood rigidly, as Agent Collins entered a four digit code into the electronic keypad that controlled access to the holding area that contained her partner and secret husband. He opened the door, allowing her to enter the miniscule anteroom that was outside the six foot by eight foot cell in which Lee was caged. She was surprised to find him sprawled out on the cell's too short cot, eyes closed, and his arms loosely crossed on his chest.
"I expected to find you pacing back and forth like a caged tiger," she stated, dispensing with her customary use of a salutation.
"If you'd gotten here sooner, you would have seen me pacing, but this cage is way too small, I was feeling claustrophobic." He rose from the cot and approached the bars that separated them.
"Poor baby," she stated in an uncharacteristically snide voice. Standing less than a foot apart, they were both struck by the irony of having their positions reversed, this time she was there to bail him out if he'd cooperate with her.
"Hey, you're not usually so unsympathetic. What's bugging you?"
"What's bugging me, you ask?" She unconsciously began to pace the short length of the bars between them. "I asked you to promise me that you would take the day off, no Agency-related activities or contacts, so that I could spend the day with an old friend without having to worry about you, and you promised that you would."
"I kept my promise," he replied defensively, before continuing in a more contrite tone, "I'm sorry that I interfered with your plans for the day."
"If you weren't working, how did you manage to stumble into the middle of a CIA operation?"
"Did you have to use the word 'stumble'?"
"Sorry, poor choice of words. If you weren't working, what were you doing?"
"I promised that I wouldn't tell you." He quickly averted his eyes, and began to shuffle his weight between his two feet.
"Okay, Buster, if you can't tell me what you were doing, I won't be able to help you. Call me, if and when you get out of here." She turned her back on him and began to walk away.
"Alright, I'll fill you in on the broad strokes, but that's the best that I can do. Someone is counting on me to be discreet-"
"What has Francine gotten you involved in this time?"
"It wasn't Francine."
"This time."
The words were out of her mouth before she realized that she'd spoken them out-loud. She knew that there hadn't been anything more than a deep friendship between her husband and the beautiful blonde agent for many years, but she couldn't quite quash the envy that she'd been feeling since her return from California. Rationally, she knew that he had to be paired with another agent during her recovery time, and she knew that he and Francine worked well together, but she wished that they hadn't been so comfortable with the temporary arrangement. His desire to keep his wife safe, led him to continue to wrangle opportunities to partner with Francine, in order to keep Amanda out of the line of fire even after she was cleared to return to fieldwork.
"Francine has nothing to do with this situation. She isn't the only person that I'd go out on a limb for, you know that…or at least I thought that you did." He raked his hand through his hair and then stared at the floor.
"I do know that, I've grown accustomed to your flouting authority in order to help people that you care about, including me. This is different, this time you aren't going against Billy or Dr. Smyth, you're taking on the CIA. I'm not going to help you to jeopardize your career, and possibly mine, if you won't tell me who you're protecting."
"I can't tell you, I promised her-"
"Her?" Now I wish it were Francine. If it was Emily, she wouldn't have sworn him to secrecy, so who could she be? She trusted him, but all the possibilities that were running through her mind were unsettling. He looked up from the floor, their eyes met, and she silently implored him to confide in her.
"I want to tell you, you've got to believe me, but I promised her that I'd keep this between the two of us. She didn't feel comfortable-"
"And why should I care about her comfort?"
The newlyweds were so intent on each other that they failed to notice the door behind them opening, and a man entering until he spoke.
"Because it's your mother that he's protecting."
Author's note: Thanks for reading! Please stay tuned for the next chapter.