I created REFLECTIONS as a short story format to combine bits of personal history with episode fillers. There are enticing glimpses of Lee's past throughout the series but writing stories about Lee solo (before Amanda) just isn't much fun – thus, the blend of canon and memories in REFLECTIONS.

This is a filler for "Flight to Freedom" Season 3.

WHAT'S IN A NAME? - By AlaskanFan

It might have been the second bottle of wine. Or maybe, the lulling motion of the waves rocking the ship. Or the glow of intimacy spread by the flickering flames of the two candles. Probably, it was a combination of all three that prompted Lee to divulge a closely guarded secret.

"That situation with Paul Barnes, a couple of months ago, really shook me up," he began tentatively.

"Yeah," she encouraged softly, "lots of memories there."

He leaned forward and nudged the melted wax pooling at the base of one of the candles. "You know, I served with the Marines as an Intelligence officer, so when I came to the Agency, I thought I knew it all. I had outsmarted the Vietnamese in several close calls, and outwitted the highest American officers where I was stationed." His lips twitched into a smile and there was a flash of dimples as he followed a rabbit trail. "The night before I flew Stateside for final debriefing and discharge, I broke into the Mess Hall and single-handedly replaced all of the sugar with salt – not just the sugar canisters but the 5 twenty pound bags in the dry goods storage, too. It took months of planning and careful acquisition to have enough salt to replace that much sugar. I slit the sugar bags along the seams so the tampering wouldn't be evident and glued it back carefully. I filled several plastic garbage bags with the sugar. Getting the sugar out was even harder than getting the salt into the mess hall. I hadn't planned the exit strategy very well."

Grinning, Amanda asked, "What happened?"

"I flew out before breakfast, but I could hear dull rumblings in the kitchen before I left as the crew started noticing the problem. I heard from a buddy that there was hell to pay on base until someone could get their hands on sugar for the morning coffee from a neighboring enclave of nurses. I've always suspected it was that commanding officer who recommended me to Harry. He couldn't tolerate me in the rigid environment of the Marines, but he admired my ingenuity."

"What did you do with the sugar?" The brown eyes danced with amusement.

"I gave it to the nurses down the hill. Over time, much of it was returned to the Marines through baked goods and barter. I figured I wouldn't get dishonorably discharged if I didn't actually steal it from the government. I only re-appropriated it for more creative use." They chuckled as they pushed aside the dessert plates.

Finished with the rabbit trail, Lee resumed his story. "Harry contacted me during my final debriefing and gave me a chance at the Agency. I felt insulted by his requirement to attend the Agency training program because I had two years in the jungle and thought I was God's gift to the civilian intelligence community. My first assignment was with Emily, and she pulled my bacon out of the fire more than once. I should have learned caution after that first summer, but I was cocky and invincible."

Amanda smiled at his memories and gave him time to gather his thoughts. His tone of voice suggested that he was leading towards something more significant than usual. She swallowed more wine, rolling it around in her mouth before letting it slide down her throat. From Lee's perspective, the blanket snuggled close around her shoulders seemed to reach all around the table and encircle him, too. Everything beyond the candles' dim flames was distant and irrelevant.

"When Paul Barnes recruited me for the Oz network, I was on top of the world. I knew I had arrived and this was my time to shine. Unfortunately, my first few assignments showed how little I really knew. In a fit of anger, Paul said he should name me "Scarecrow" because I'd be a great agent 'if I only had a brain.'" Lee smiled ruefully at the insult.

Amanda smiled sympathetically and placed her hand on his for comfort. He couldn't maintain eye contact and shifted his gaze to the wavering flames instead.

"Dorothy reminded me that in the story the Scarecrow demonstrated all along that he had plenty of intelligence, and was picked to rule Oz when the Wizard left at the end of the tale. We had a long talk a few nights before she was killed. She restored my confidence in myself and my relationship with Paul." Lee swallowed and closed his eyes, face muscles taut. "After the... uh... disaster at the airport, Paul kept suggesting other code names, trying to undo the insult, but I wouldn't let him give me a new one. Paul named me, but Dorothy made it a name of honor. I kept it as a gift from her." He ended almost in a whisper, clenching his teeth.

Amanda folded her hand more solidly around Lee's and he turned his hand palm up to return the grip. His thumb caressed her knuckles with light taps. She remembered asking him once about his code name and being rebuffed with the terse statement, "That's very personal." His willingness to volunteer the information made it a precious offering. She treasured his trust. She waited, silent and still, as he mastered his emotions. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes, sighed deeply and smiled genially.

"Did you get enough to eat?" He asked, firmly placing the conversation on a less emotionally charged topic.

"Oh, yes. Yes! It was delicious. When did you have time to arrange all of this?" Amanda willingly followed his lead.

"After I changed clothes, I picked up a few things for dinner – gourmet take-out, a suitably complex Cabernet, an elegant selection of cheeses. I had just stowed it in the galley and returned to the parking lot when you arrived. I hoped it would be a nice suprise. The Mata Hari is stocked with basic gear like soap and toothbrushes, but I wanted a nice dinner. You know, I figured on the off-chance that we might get stuck, well... I wanted to make it as pleasant as it could possibly be." Even in the nautical stripes, Lee Stetson was one classy man.

"Well, you did. Thank you." The intensity of deep relationship was disturbed by a ringing telephone.

THE END

This author bows out as the script resumes with Billy requesting an update.