Disclaimer: "Scarecrow and Mrs. King" is the property of Warner Bros. and Shoot The Moon Productions, I enjoy borrowing their characters for entertainment purposes.

For as long as she could remember, Amanda King had prided herself on her interpersonal skills. She'd instinctively found a way to connect with people who crossed her path; she had a knack for figuring out what made them tick. Meeting Lee Stetson had initially challenged her confidence in her ability to read people. He was a mass of contradictions, and as infuriating as he was handsome.

She'd been stubbornly persistent, often exhibiting the patience of a saint, and had ultimately broken through the wall he'd built around his heart. Now, a month after he'd surprised her by initiating their first real kiss, he was pushing her away again. She could have brushed aside the moodiness he'd begun to display a few days ago, but today he'd gone too far, he'd deliberately ditched her in the bullpen and disappeared for the rest of the work day.

Determined to not allow him to backslide emotionally, she'd shown up at his apartment that evening, but she wasn't sure of what to say to him. Their "relationship", although she wasn't completely comfortable with that word, had proceeded at a snail's pace for so long, but that kiss and his subsequent request to court her had changed everything between them. She'd begun to seriously consider that he might care as deeply for her as she did for him. Did she want to jeopardize their potential future together when she could wait and allow his mood to pass?

As she considered that question, hand poised near his doorbell, she was startled when the door suddenly opened.

"Amanda, what are you doing here?" His long frame blocked the doorway, as he stood with his car keys dangling from his left hand.

"Hello, Lee." She smiled at him and took a step backwards without answering his question.

"Hello to you, too." He subconsciously returned her smile, but made no move to allow her entrance to his apartment. "Is something wrong?"

"You tell me," she replied, remaining stubbornly planted in his doorway.

"No problems here, I was on my way out."

"Fine, I'll tag along, we can talk while you drive, where are you going?"

"Out, I… hadn't picked a destination yet, so you may as well come in, we can talk here." He retreated into the apartment, leaving her to follow him in and close the door. "I think I know why you're here. I was hoping that you'd just take the hint and let today pass without making a big deal about it. Is that too much to ask?"

"No." She surprised him by limiting herself to a one word response, as she looked at the half empty scotch glass sitting on the coffee table in front of him. "You shouldn't be drinking and driving, someone could get hurt or worse."

"I'm not drunk; I decided that drinking wouldn't help. Can we get this over with quickly? I'll apologize for ditching you earlier and then maybe you can admit that everyone doesn't necessarily handle these…observances the way you do." He raked a hand through his hair and looked away from her. "You've changed me, admittedly for the better, but we still come from vastly different worlds. You can't expect me to simply embrace this day the way you and your family would. It's a milestone!"

He reached for the glass in front of him, and downed its contents despite his earlier determination not to. She seated herself at the opposite end of his sofa. The expression on his face and his increasingly stiff body language made it clear that he didn't believe her.

" I went out of my way to break down the emotional barriers you put up to keep people at a distance, but I didn't set out to change you…I just wanted to get through to the real you. Is that so wrong?"

"No, but sometimes you go too far, today's a prime example."

"What's wrong with my wanting to quietly celebrate your birthday with you? No big party, just two people marking a special day together." She looked away sadly before continuing. "I didn't mean to push the boundaries of our new…" She briefly hesitated, while chewing on her lower lip and then continued, "I only wanted you to know that you're-"

"A major jerk. I'm sorry; usually I'd be glad to celebrate my birthday with you." He scooted closer to her on the sofa and gently turned her face towards him. "This isn't an ordinary birthday, it's a milestone," he concluded wistfully.

"No it's not; we were born in the same year, so I know that you just turned thirty-six. There's nothing special about that." He backed away from her with an extremely sad look on his face.

"It's no big deal to you, but it is to me, my father never made it to thirty-six. I've made such a mess of my life over the years. Why did I make it, when he didn't?"

He stood up, hung his head, and went to refill his empty glass. The possibility that he might have a valid reason for not celebrating his birthday had never occurred to her. Why didn't I realize what was bothering him? She sat silently while he violently tossed ice into his empty glass. I couldn't have known, he's told me so little about his parents. He poured a generous amount of scotch over the cubes, and gazed at her across the room.

"You're being awfully quiet. You don't have a good answer for why someone like me is still around, when a great man like my dad died at thirty-five. They had so much to live for, yet they were gone in seconds, a senseless car accident-"

His voice broke; he took another gulp of the amber liquid, and willed himself to not allow the tears that were stinging his eyes to fall. She desperately wanted to go wrap her arms around him and provide the comforting he hadn't received as a small boy, but she didn't dare to approach him when he was so clearly fighting to keep his emotions in check.

"There are no answers for why some people die young and others don't. It isn't our place to question why we're alive. All that we can do is use the time that we're given to do as much good as we can. You do that every day that you risk your life to make the world a safer place. I think that your parents would be very proud of you."

"What about my personal life? I told you once that I don't choose my lovers particularly well, and that was an understatement. You're the first woman that I've…dated that I wish I could introduce to my folks. The others…they were all… " He scrubbed his hand through his hair as he searched for a polite word to characterize the women he'd dated in the past.

"Bimbos," Amanda volunteered with a quick smile.

"You recognized that even when you and I were still getting to know each other. Why didn't I?"

"You knew it; you simply weren't ready to acknowledge it yet. We all manage to avoid confronting certain aspects of how we're living our lives. We don't have to try and fix a problem if we don't admit that it exists."

"Ah hell, I'm doing it again right now. I'm paid to be observant, but I just noticed now that you didn't bring me a birthday present, not even a cake…you came here to tell me that you don't want to see me outside of work anymore."

"Whoa, you're jumping to conclusions-" Rather than allowing her to speak, he interrupted her while he closed the physical distance between them.

"No, I'm not; you have every reason to dump me. I've treated you so badly over the past few days."

"You've behaved far worse than this in the past, and I didn't give up on you."

"So, you're not angry at me," he replied, his relief was evident on his face.

"I didn't say that, I'm annoyed that you were so quick to shut me out, but if I'm to be completely honest, I'm disappointed in myself too."

"Now, you've gotten me thoroughly confused, what did you do wrong?" He flopped down on the sofa and she once again seated herself at the opposite end.

"I promised myself that if we pursued a romantic relationship, I wouldn't allow us to fall into the same patterns that doomed my marriage." Why am I telling him this now? He's not Joe, and I'm not who I was back then, besides he's not ready for this kind of conversation. He slowly and quietly edged closer to her while she sat forlornly; studying her hands as she slowly twisted them in her lap.

"Amanda, please look at me, now you're shutting me out. Talk to me, what patterns are you worried about us falling into?" His confused hazel eyes met her anxious brown eyes.

"Are you sure about this? You don't like to talk about feelings…and relationships."

"Maybe, that's because I was never involved with someone like you before." He gently stroked her cheek and took her hand into his. "I care about you, more deeply than I ever thought was possible. I can't imagine my life without you in it. I believe that we can have a future together, I don't know what it will entail, but I want to talk about it, work towards it. I once asked you to walk with me, and you trusted me enough to do it, now I'm asking you to talk to me."

She smiled at him, eyes glistening, and then melted into his arms. She was finally ready to talk to him openly about her failed marriage. He'd been right after all; his thirty-sixth birthday would be a milestone in both of their lives.