Disclaimer: "Scarecrow and Mrs. King" is copyrighted to Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon Productions. The plot is mine, but not the characters. This story is meant for enjoyment purposes only. No infringement is intended.

A/N: Many thanks to Sheila for beta-reading and as usual I ask to my readers, please no spoilers on the ending.

SUMMER 1986

After a tiresome day at work behind her of nearly going blind on paperwork, and an afternoon of running errands, she kicked off her shoes, dropped the shopping bags she'd been carrying and collapsed onto her bed wearily needing a moment just to compose herself before working on tasks that she knew needed to be completed. She smiled slightly though. She was happy that she'd gotten something accomplished on her shopping trip. With that thought in mind, she sat up and reached for the bags that she'd dropped onto the floor beside her and dumped their contents onto her bed.

"I need scissors," she said aloud to no one as the house was currently empty until the children came home from their summer day camp. With a slight groan, she hauled her aching body from her bed and walked to the vanity across the room knowing she kept a pair in there. "And tape," she added. No, wait, I got some while I was shopping because I was out, she reminded herself with a firm nod as she rooted through the drawer to find the scissors. "A-ha!" she squealed triumphantly when she found them and made her way back to her bed.

She settled herself in and set to work removing the cellophane from the wrapping paper she'd bought and tossed the wrapping aside, unfolding the paper to lay it flat, then from another bag extracted the gift to be wrapped in it, admiring its quality for a moment with a smug grin. She couldn't help beaming a bit at her choice in gifts for the man who'd now earned a special place in her heart. It really was the perfect gift for him, something he'd like, something he'd get a lot of use out of; plus tasteful and elegant without being gaudy. They'd been seeing each other for a little while, but had just begun to become more serious over the past couple of months after some seriously intense stolen kisses at the office.

She let out a deep sigh of pleasure at that thought as she set to work and reflected back a bit. She'd never forget the first time she'd really noticed the intensity of his eyes, how they could melt her with just a look, the twinkling amusement in them when she'd agreed to meet at a party, a party for which she felt she'd been horribly underdressed while he'd looked so dashing in his tux. But of course, men always did, didn't they? There wasn't too much a man could do to ruin the look of a tux, but women's clothing was much more complex. He hadn't seemed to notice her attire though, had simply asked her to dance and what a dance it had been.

As she snipped and taped, she recalled other instances in their time together, and how she'd brought up that first party to tease him later on and he'd just brushed it off with a joke that she just looked normal. Of course, she'd fired back what did he know about normal? SHE knew normal. She'd lived it. She'd been a dutiful wife, raised a family, had a house in the suburbs, where he, he'd never been married, liked his fancy parties, champagne and society ladies like Elisa Danton. He'd looked at her then with an expression of bemusement as if questioning her knowledge to which she'd smartly replied that she reads the society columns.

She let out a frustrated sigh as she thought of things as they are now. As happy as this new, fulfilling relationship was, one thing really bothered her about it...that she couldn't share her happiness with her family. They didn't know where she really worked. They still thought IFF really was just a documentary film company. If they only knew the things that really went on there. She could tell them some stories from her years there, that was for sure. The man in her life could tell even more, but sadly, they'd probably never even know that he existed and they romance would have to stay just as it was; a secret, just as big a secret as the one hidden by the innocuous-looking brick building that housed a covert government agency.

She had to admit that it wasn't all bad, this secrecy. It was also extremely exciting; making plans for their clandestine rendezvous', the danger of being caught... Then there were their moments alone in each others' arms, the heated kisses they'd shared, the longing glances, intense looks, the promise of more to come in the future. She shivered slightly at that thought. It had been a long time, but she wanted to take things slowly, even though she couldn't help wondering if he was as good as he looked.

She'd just finished her wrapping when her thoughts were interrupted by the thundering of feet up her stairs and she let out another frustrated sigh as she rapidly rose from her bed and in a warning tone, called, "Boys!"

The noise stopped and as she approached the stairs, she saw two sheepish young faces looking up at her, both muttering 'Sorry."

"Good," Edna D'Angelo replied to her grandsons with a shake of her head as she returned to her room to write out the card to her love for his birthday gift. She just hoped he liked the cigarette case as much as she hoped he would.