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

AN: This is the first of several planned sequels to "First Date Follies." If you have not yet read that one, I'd advise starting there first or this one will make little sense. For those who have read it, I want to say thanks for all the reviews and an extra special thanks to my beta squad who also happen to be my favorite writers, tjsmklvr, clagjanet and itsjustshe for the suggestions to make this better.

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Francine fidgeted nervously as she stood outside Beaman's door. She shifted the paper bag in her arms and readjusted the purse strap on her shoulder as she looked down at her appearance. He'd told her when he'd invited her over for dinner to dress casually, but she just wasn't sure she looked good enough. She didn't do "casual" well. She was wearing a lightweight knit top and her designer jeans that she knew showed off her curves, but was she just pulling an Amanda in the outfit she was wearing? Was she too casual for what was only their second date? Was this really their second date? OR could it be considered their third since they'd spent all night on the beach together talking until they'd fallen asleep side by side on the blanket they'd picnicked on and then had had breakfast at the resort in the morning? She chuckled a bit as she recalled how they'd run into Patterson from Payroll who was taking full advantage of the free continental breakfast for hotel guests.

"Hmm...small world," Francine jibed as she approached him from behind and made him jump.

"Yeah," Beaman chimed in from Patterson's other side. "Fancy meeting you here."

"We're just running into all kinds of people we know, aren't we, Efraim? We just saw Roxanne last night."

"R-R-Roxanne?" Patterson stammered.

BINGO! she crowed inwardly. "Are you here alone?" She nodded to the plate in his hand. "'Cause that's an awful lot of food for just one person."

"I...Uh...I just have a hearty appetite." He tried to walk around them, but Beaman stepped in front of him.

"Oh, we know all about your appetites," Beaman countered, his voice dripping with innuendo. "Myself, I have first-hand knowledge of Roxanne's as well."

"You know..." Francine mused as she sidled up to her date and linked her arm with his, "It seems to me that you two are the perfect pair."

"Excuse me," Patterson huffed as he pushed past them, but then paused and turned back for a moment. He looked Francine up and down and gestured to her messy hair and rumpled dress from the night before. "If you're thinking of saying anything, just remember, I saw you here too." He hurried away and the pair shared a laugh, knowing that their secret was safe with Patterson as they went back to their breakfast.

"Now, if we can just make sure Lee and Amanda keep their yaps shut," Beaman mused.

"I'm more worried about Roxanne," she replied. "Lee and Amanda don't want their secret revealed any more than we do, but Roxanne seems to take great pride in telling stories about who she's currently involved with at The Agency, though why anyone would brag about Patterson is beyond me." She shook her head. "I'll figure something out with her. There's gotta be some dirt on her somewhere I can dig up."

He beamed at her. "Well, you're in luck. You just happen to have an escort who has the inside scoop."

"Oh? Do tell."

"Another time," he teased with a laugh.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

"You. The way you thought coming all the way out here would stop us from running into anyone we know. I guess that kills your idea of keeping it to yourself that you finally agreed to go out with me."

"Efraim..." She said his name softly. "That's not what I was trying to do."

"No?"

"No," she confirmed. "Look, I admit that I was nervous about our date. I..." She let out a sigh. "I wanted it to be just the two of us in case it didn't go well."

"Because of me," he concluded.

"No, because of me. You might have noticed that I don't have the greatest track record with relationships. You're a nice guy."

"Oh, there's the kiss of death," he grumbled. "Go on. 'You're a nice guy, but-"

She shook her head. "No but. You're a nice guy. Too nice for me, I think. You said it yourself. I use sarcasm to keep people at a distance."

"Simple solution. Don't keep me at a distance. You didn't at the Christmas party," he reminded her. "There wasn't a drop of sarcasm in you when we had that talk."

"True." She paused, lost in thought for a moment. "So, this not keeping you at a distance. What did you have in mind?"

"Well, how about having dinner with me tonight; a real dinner. I'll cook."

Francine shook off the memories of this morning's events. She finally knocked on his door and tried to force herself to relax and get the nagging thoughts out of her mind of the dreaded "third date rule." She wondered now if that was why Beaman had invited her to his place instead of out somewhere. Was he seeing it as their third date? Did he expect-?

The opening of the door and Beaman's warm smile cut off her thoughts as he greeted her with, "You look great."

"Thanks," she replied as she entered his apartment, breathing a sigh of relief that her outfit wasn't too casual if it got his attention.

"What's in the bag?" he queried as he closed the door behind her and walked toward his kitchen, gesturing with his head for her to follow him.

"Well, since you're cooking, I promised I'd bring wine to go with dinner," she reminded him as she set the bag down on his countertop.

"I remember, but that's an awfully big bag for a bottle of wine," he noted.

"Well, since you didn't tell me what you were cooking, I didn't know what kind of wine I should get." She began extracting bottles from the bag. "So, I brought a red..." She showed him the Merlot she'd just removed. "...a white.." She indicated the Chardonnay. "A rose'." She removed a third bottle. "White Zinfandel." She took one more bottle from the bag. "And finally, champagne."

"I think you've covered all the bases," he nodded with a chuckle.

To cover the awkwardness she felt, she asked, "So, what are you cooking anyway? Whatever it is smells wonderful." She took in a deep breath and inhaled the aroma. "Italian?"

"Veal Parmigiana," he answered with a nod.

"So, the Merlot then," she nodded affirmatively as she busied herself with the wine bottles worried that she'd gone too far in over-thinking things. Why couldn't she just relax? You know why, her inner voice reminded her. This might actually go somewhere.

"Good plan," he acknowledged.

"Corkscrew?"

"The drawer to your right, glasses in the cabinet above your head," he answered with a nod in that direction. "You know, with all those bottles, I thought maybe you were taking me up on the challenge to drink you under the table." He grinned mischievously at her just as she'd retrieved the corkscrew.

She flushed slightly at his intent gaze as he leaned in and brushed a tender kiss to her lips. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, her inner Negative Nancy warned. Third date and drinking, not a good idea. But did he even consider it their third date? It was kind of up in the air. Technically their first date had carried over into the next day, but they'd slept since then so their breakfast this morning could have been considered their second date. "A challenge I'm sure I'd win," she fired back cockily in an attempt to quiet the voices in her head as she opened the wine.

"Still, might be interesting to find out," he teased. He turned to open the oven and check on their dinner, nodded and then closed it just as Francine had finished pouring two glasses of wine. "Dinner will be a few more minutes, so why don't we go into the living room? I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" She raised her eyebrows. Uh-oh. Here it comes, she thought worriedly. She was suddenly rethinking this whole thing. She'd agreed to the dinner at his place to make up for the fact that she'd made him drive sixty miles for their first date, but now... She took a deep breath and reminded herself that the living room was closer to the front door if she felt the need to flee.

"Don't look so worried," he admonished her as if sensing her thoughts as he took her by the hand and led her into the living room. "I promise you'll like this surprise." When they reached the living room, he nodded to the sofa and said, "Have a seat." He walked to his desk, returned with two file folders and sat beside her.

"What's this?" She looked at the top folder bearing The Agency seal on its cover as she set her wine glass down on the coffee table and turned to face him.

He handed her the first folder. "As promised, dirt on Roxanne."

"No!" she cried gleefully.

"Yep. One advantage of working in the training department, I have access to everyone's training records."

"WOW!" she exclaimed as she perused the file. "Her scores were worse than I thought. How'd she even get the job in accounting?"

"Keep reading," he told her. "There's a personal letter of recommendation in there that I think is what got her in despite her dismal scores. Check out the signature at the bottom."

"No way!" she cried as she read. "Well, that explains why he's not around anymore, I guess." She eyed the other folder in his hand.

"So, what's in the other one?" she questioned. "Surely not more dirt on her?"

"Oh no. This one is one that's sure to keep Lee and Amanda's mouths shut...if we need it, that is."

"You dug up some dirt on them too?" This surprised her. "I mean, I know there is all kinds of dirt to be dug up on Lee, but Amanda, she's so clean, she squeaks. I mean, sure there was that incident a few months ago with the newspaper..." She shook her head at herself as she broke off. Now, she was starting to babble like Amanda.

"Well, we all know that turned out to be bogus. And this is not dirt exactly," he hedged a bit, unsure if he should reveal what he knew. "I...I just...Stetson's comment last night about the wedding ring not being a pretense got me curious as to what he meant by it."

"Oh, come on," she scoffed. "That was just Lee being Lee, trying to get my goat. We may have once been involved on a personal level, but he's more like a big brother to me now, always trying to one-up me or get in the last word."

"Don't be so sure," he cautioned her. "He may surprise you."

"Don't be ridiculous. I know from first-hand experience that he's not the settling-down type." Even as the words were out of her mouth, she wondered if they were true as she again flashed back to the overheard phone conversation with Amanda about having a chance to live like normal people.

"You're sure about that, are you?"

"P-p-positive," she sputtered. She eyed him warily, wondering what he knew that she didn't.

"Care to make a wager on that?" he challenged her.

"What kind of wager?" she questioned.

"If what I've got in this folder proves you wrong, you let me pick what we do on our next date," he proposed, confident that there would be a next date now that she'd relaxed a bit.

"What makes you think there will be a next date?" she countered.

"Because I have a plan for tonight to guarantee you'll want more," he teased.

Oh, crap, she thought. That was a come-on if she'd ever heard one, but she decided to play along to see where it was leading. What was the worst that could happen? After all, she'd fought off some of the best in the business and was highly skilled at hand-to-hand if it became necessary. "Hmm...And if I win this little wager?"

"You pick the activities for our third date," he answered simply.

There it was, she thought. "You...uh...you don't consider this our third date? I mean, we did have dinner and breakfast."

"I guess I didn't think of it like that," he replied with a shrug. "Does it matter?"

She searched his eyes, trying to gauge what was on his mind. Was it possible that she was just misreading him? After all, Beaman didn't really seem like the wolf type. Was it possible that he just didn't know about the third date rule? Or did he just not subscribe to it? "I...Uh...I guess not," she answered awkwardly. "So, what's in the folder?" She reached for it, but he kept it out of her reach.

"You agree to the terms?"

"Yes. Now, let me see it."

He handed over the folder and took a sip of his wine, a sly grin on his face as he waited for her reaction. "Holy shit!" she exclaimed as she read the results of his investigation. She looked at him in wonder and asked doubtfully, "Are you sure this is real and not just something created by Fabrications? I mean, they have played a married couple many times for work."

"It's very real," he answered. "They took great pains to keep it hidden by getting married in another county."

"So, how'd you find it?"

"Computer search. With so many counties keeping computer records now, it was pretty easy, like shooting fish in a barrel."

"Wow. Lee Stetson...married. That's like Arnold Schwarzenegger being cast as Ben Richards."

"Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction too," he agreed with a laugh. "Definitely not the description Stephen King wrote."

"Don't you mean 'Richard Bachman'?" she teased.

"Oh, didn't you hear? Bachman died of cancer of the pseudonym..."

"A rare form of schizophrenia," they finished together and shared a laugh.

"Maybe that's what I should do with my 'happy hooker' identity...give her some bizarre life-threatening disease," she laughed.

"Or me with the computer nerd persona," Beaman added.

"There's more to both of us than that," she agreed. She was beginning to see just how much more there was to him and was happy that he saw beyond all her facades.

Now that their laughter had subsided, Beaman nodded and continued, "Still, though I'm interested to see what they do with the movie this summer. Miscast or not, it's real and so is Lee and Amanda's marriage."

"No wonder he was so antsy last night and made that crack about Amanda being released for normal activities. He's probably been-" She broke off, not wanting to continue that thought and put ideas into her date's head.

"Been what?"

"Oh, well, you know Lee...It's like I was saying last night...you know...about his overactive libido. It must have been killing him that Amanda couldn't-" She blushed and stopped again.

"Francine, it's okay." In seeing her expression change as if she were looking down the barrel of a gun and remembering her crack about her 'happy hooker cover, he felt the need to put her mind at ease that he didn't see her like that. He set his glass down and took her hands in his. "Not all guys are like that. Some of us prefer a little romance." He leaned toward her for a kiss, but just as their lips were about to meet, the oven timer sounded, breaking the spell. "Dinner."

"Yeah," she sighed in disappointment. One thing she could say about Beaman, he was a good kisser. Maybe her fears about him wanting to jump the gun were unfounded. Would it really be such a bad thing if he did, another voice chimed in. It has been a while. "So, Veal Parmigiana for dinner, what's for dessert?"

"Chocolate mousse," he answered as he helped her to her feet.

"Wow," she replied as they made their way into the kitchen. She was really starting to like the idea of dating Beaman, not that she was quite ready to let him know that...yet. "Well, it's a good thing I brought the other wines then. A rose' goes better with chocolate mousse." She glanced sideways at him and wondered what else might go well with that chocolate. Consequences be damned, she was determined to have some fun for once. As Beaman pulled their dinner out of the oven, she suggested, "So since that movie's supposed to be released in August, maybe by that time, I'll have won a bet with you and we can go see it together?"

"Or maybe I'll win another bet and surprise you with it," he fired back with a mischievous grin. He was beginning to think that they way to keep her attention was to keep surprising her. His teasing smirk belied the elation he felt that she was already thinking that far ahead. After all, that was three months away.

"Ha! Fat chance!" she countered as she settled in at the table with her wine, her own jesting covering the excitement she felt that he hadn't shot down the idea of a date in August. "I don't plan to make a bet with you again that I can't win. You may have gotten me with that little tidbit about Lee, but I won't make that mistake again."

"How do you know it will be a mistake to let me pick our next date?"

"I didn't mean that. I meant trusting you on that bet when you had inside information."

"You seem to forget that I'm a spy too," he retorted as he joined her at the table and began serving their dinner. "Just because I'm not out in the field as much doesn't mean I don't have some skills." He grinned broadly.

"What kind of skills are we talking about," she questioned with an arched eyebrow.

"Well, we'll just leave that for the third date, won't we?" He leaned in and brushed his lips against her for a long, lingering kiss that left her breathless before he finally sat down, nodded to her plate. "But for now, we should eat before our food gets cold.

Damn him! He'd said that he'd leave her wanting more and boy, had he ever. As she began to eat, she couldn't help the smile that crossed her face and the slight shudder of anticipation at what their next date might bring.