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 story is a filler for "Legend of das Geisterschloss" after Lee and Amanda escape from the castle in the lake, Season 2.
Reflections: In the Beginning by AlaskanFan
After an unexpected swim, a chilly drive back to the hotel, and a hot shower, Amanda snuggled into bed for a short nap before dinner. The time-zone differences had jumbled her appetite and her sleep schedule. Lee, however, took a quick shower then called Billy to discuss the case.
"Colonel Gerhard Metzger is working on the same problem for the Austrians. Like me, he got a coded message to meet Emily, and he knows she was looking for the listening post. But he doesn't know what clues she was following or where she was focusing her investigation. He told us that he would check with the local police about a particular castle, and then we didn't see him at the castle when we arrived less than an hour later." Lee carried the phone base with him as he paced.
"So, have you heard from him since the missed appointment? Do you have any way to contact him?" Billy's concern was evident over the long distance phone connection.
"No. When Amanda and I went to the meeting, we were jumped by two guys and made a quick escape. I don't know whether Metzger set us up, or whether he was captured by the same guys, or what happened to him. Maybe you could double-check his credentials for me, and do some research on the castle."
"Francine's here. I'll put her on speaker phone and you can tell her what you need." Billy jabbed a button and nodded to his efficient assistant. He closed his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. Francine's orange and turquoise ensemble was nearly blinding; it was good to give his eyes a break.
"Go ahead, Scarecrow. I'm ready." She was poised with pen and paper. The scratching of her shorthand and clatter of numerous bracelets accompanied Lee's crisp directions.
"Emily left a sketchbook of drawings which led us to the castle and the ambush. It's Castle Anif and it's set in the middle of a small lake. Check out the owners, any current rental agreements, caretaker arrangements, things like that. And use official channels to check on Metzger. His I.D. said he was with Staatspolizeilicher Dienst, Einsatzgruppe zur Bekampfung des Terrorismus." The correct pronunciation flowed easily. His language skills had been a distinct advantage in his career. "If he checked with the local police, Metzger and his local contacts are the only ones who knew we were going to visit the castle. Any of them might be dirty. Don't you have a contact over here?"
The blonde laughed and purred, "I should say so. He has the most amazing hot tub. I remember once..."
She was cut short as both men barked, "Francine!"
Billy continued, "This is a long distance call. Stick to business. You and Lee can compare exploits later."
She tossed her head in disgust and regretted the move. Her heavy earrings were tugging painfully on her lobes. High fashion was often painful, but it was worth a little discomfort to look this fabulous. She returned her attention to the case. "You believe Emily left clues about her investigation in the drawings."
"That's the premise so far. Several of those drawings have a small, hidden letter within the drawing. We've found four letters. and we're still working on that angle. We haven't found a letter in the drawing of the castle, so we decided she wanted us to focus on the location." Lee's wanderings had led him to the magnificent view from the window, but the scenery was unnoticed as his mind worked through the details of the case. He bumped the telephone base absently against his leg.
"Good job to notice the hidden letters." Billy thought he detected Amanda's influence in that part of the investigation, so his comment was actually a small fishing trip.
"Well, yes, that was... uh, Amanda's idea." Lee knew that Francine didn't always take Amanda seriously so he hadn't mentioned Amanda's theory about hidden images in the drawings. But, dammit, Amanda deserved to get the credit for understanding Emily's reason to involve her personally on this case. He smiled briefly, remembering her delight when she discovered each new letter.
"Excellent. Emily knew what she was doing to request that Amanda pick up her personal effects. That kept her sketches out of the hands of her enemies." Billy beamed proudly at the news that Amanda had contributed to the investigation. She was doing a fine job for a civilian.
"Actually, it might not have been as effective as Emily hoped. Francine, check out a Dr. Edwin Hanover, too. He's British, but probably has a permanent residence here in Salzburg. He took an unusual interest in the sketch book and looked at each of the drawings. I couldn't have stopped him without raising any suspicions. He certainly saw the drawing of the castle and might have guessed that we would go there. He has enough local contacts to be able to hire some muscle on short notice."
"Lee, it's possible that the men you encountered were simply guarding their property from intruders." Billy crossed his arms across his chest, tucking his hands firmly to his sides.
"No. They came at us fully intending to do some damage. They were not just waving guns around and asking questions. No," he repeated more firmly, "I'm sure they were waiting for us."
He finished the call and turned his attention to meeting Amanda for dinner. During a recent case, there was some speculation that agents (and civilians) would be given new identities and scattered across the country. When she pointed out that such upheaval might mean they wouldn't see each other again, he had acted nonchalant, but the notion had haunted him for days afterward. He discovered he didn't like the idea of never seeing her again. He didn't like it at all! And while they were here, away from the prying eyes of Washington, it was a good time to test the waters to see if their relationship could be more than a working relationship.
He often compared his dating life to a roller-coaster. Fast. Thrilling. Daring. Unexpected twists and turns. But when the relationship ended, he was back where he started. He was beginning to suspect that he was expending a lot of energy merely to go in circles. On the other hand, Amanda was one of the most daring women he knew. He paused just a moment to marvel at her willingness to jump into the lake with him. Sure, there were twists and turns in this relationship, too, but they didn't give him whiplash. Instead, being friends with Amanda was more like being on a train. There were hills and valleys, curves and long stretches of straight tracks, but there was never a sense of being jerked around and there were unexpected delights all along the way. With Amanda, the relationship didn't just go in circles. But, where exactly were they going?
Amanda was refreshed by her nap and took special care with her appearance. She hoped to replace the "drowned rat" image that she had presented after their desperate swim. Lee had covered their soggy return by making a few loud comments that "The paddle boats aren't as stable as I thought." As she eyed herself in the mirror, she was pleased with the light blue cardigan that topped the navy blouse with its pearl buttons. The denim skirt swirled pleasantly around her calves as she walked, and her loose curls brushed the collar of her blouse and her cheeks. She briefly wondered if Lee would like the blouse and sweater combination, then shook her head impatiently to dislodge the question. She was here on business and she should keep her mind on business.
As she rode the elevator to the lobby, she couldn't help but remember how pleasant it was to have his arm around her waist. She was used to him courteously escorting her with a hand at her back, but several times on this trip his arm had reached around her waist to pull her closely to his side. The gesture suggested pleasant changes in their relationship, but she didn't want to get her hopes up too much. She loved a good puzzle and Lee's mixed messages about their relationship could occupy her thoughts for hours. This morning's conversation with Dr. Hanover was a perfect example. When Dr. Hanover suggested that they were a "young couple in love," Lee silently waited for her to describe their relationship. How is she supposed to describe their relationship when she isn't sure about their status?
Lee had arrived in the lobby early enough to conduct casual surveillance. If the goons from the castle wanted a second pounding, he intended to be ready for them. He saw Amanda as she exited the elevator and watched as her eyes scanned the lobby looking for him. His plan to "test the waters" with their relationship was reinforced by the way her whole face lit with pleasure when she spotted him. Although he couldn't keep his eyes off of her, he was aware that heads were turning in her direction. It was a good reminder to not leave her at the mercy of these vultures for even one moment.
She spied the handsome agent across the lobby, and her heart skipped a beat. She realized that he had been watching her, and his intent gaze when she met his eyes was breath taking. As he approached, she noticed that they had accidentally dressed in coordinated colors - again. His navy suit and pale blue shirt was a reverse image of her own color scheme and his navy tie had a row of white dots down its center, just the size of her pearl buttons. Her mother would probably croon some romantic nonsense about how they were "made for each other" based on their fashion choices. As she took a deep breath to steady herself, she caught the merest scent of his cologne. It was almost a relief to shift her focus to the practical matter of dinner before she let her imagination tempt her to do something embarrassing.
As they met in front of the hotel restaurant, Lee slipped his hand farther around her waist than usual and looked fiercely around the lobby to discourage any would-be suitors. She enjoyed his touch, but missed seeing the proprietary gleam in his eyes. To the casual observer, they certainly looked like a young couple in love - her heightened color and affectionate glances, his smoky gaze upon her and his protective closeness - clear indicators of a significant relationship.
The hotel dining room was tastefully decorated in burgundy and gold. Soft music and subdued lighting complemented the elegant decor. The menu offered a tempting array of local dishes and internationally appealing entrees. After a delicious dinner, they lingered over coffee and apple strudel.
"When Colonel Metzger told us that the rafts were tied up beside the road, I thought the castle owners must be very hospitable people. If they didn't want visitors, they could padlock the rafts to the trees or build a shed to house them. You don't suppose the owners were captured by those guys, too, do you?" Dinner conversation had been light and casual, but Amanda couldn't stop herself from thinking about their case.
"It's possible, Amanda, but I doubt it. I'm not sure anyone is living there and the boats are probably used by a local caretaker. Francine is researching the place and we'll get more information tomorrow, after the Austrian government offices open again. Or maybe she'll find something down in Research and there will be a message for me after dinner." Lee answered soothingly. He didn't want Amanda thinking about the case all night. She might have some brainstorm and race off to investigate on her own. No, he didn't want her thinking up theories without him at her side.
"I sure hope that nice Colonel Metzger is resting quietly at home, but since he hasn't called us, I doubt he is. I hope he's not in any trouble." Her brown eyes were shadowed with concern and her lips pressed together slightly as she fretted.
Lee had enjoyed watching her face throughout dinner, and even now, it was lovely. She was the most generous and genuinely caring person he's ever known. It obviously hadn't occurred to her that Colonel Metzger might have set them up. He saw no reason to suggest that possibility to her until tomorrow. "We don't know that he's in any danger. He works in intelligence, Amanda. You know how a case sometimes moves into high gear and you can't think of anything but reeling in the bad guys. Maybe Metzger is wrapping up a successful case while we enjoy our dinner."
Amanda smiled gratefully, "You always see the bright side."
"That's one of the things Emily taught me. She always said, 'Doubts and anxiety slow down our reflexes. This is no business for a pessimist.'" Lee quoted her, mimicking her British accent. Then in his own voice, he added, "Agents have to consider all the possible angles – bad ones as well as good - but we can't afford to let the possibility of failure rule our thinking."
"Patience. Control. Optimism. What else did she teach you?"
"An easier question would be 'What didn't she teach me?'" Lee chuckled fondly as he thought of his mentor and friend. "Like I said, my first assignment was with Emily. Do you remember when we were in Munich, and we met Billy and Francine in the gardens at Nymphenburg Castle?"
"Yes, that place was gorgeous! You barely looked at it!"
"I lived there during the summer of '73 while on an interagency case with Emily. She taught me how to hobnob with the upper class and the fine points of tailoring."
"Tailoring is an agency skill?"
"We have to convincingly dress the part from boardrooms, to ballrooms, and back alleys. I had not been shopping with a woman since my mother died and I had a lot to learn."
(Cue the swirly-sounding harp music that signals flashbacks.)
Bertinelli's Fine Tailoring
Tuesday, May 15, 1973
Only direct orders from Harry Thornton could have forced him to visit the tailor shop with Lady Farnsworth. He felt like a child going shopping with his nanny. The staid English woman beside him would be a millstone around his neck all summer if he couldn't figure out how to manage her. Her black dress with the prim lace collar fairly screamed "school marm."
The bell above the door jingled, announcing their arrival. The air conditioning was welcome after their lunch at the sidewalk cafe. The shop had rows of fabric, racks of ties, shelves of hats, and various mirrors in all directions.
Lee glimpsed his image in a full-length mirror nearby and smoothed his thick sideburn along his cheek and straightened his posture to military rigidity. His hair was still embarrassingly short after his stint in the Marines; it barely reached his collar. He turned and caught sight of himself in a small mirror beside the ties and shook his hair away from his face like the rock stars do. He frowned at the unsatisfactory effort with the too-short hair, and then consoled himself with another glance at his muttonchop sideburns. His clothes were fashionable, too – a dark green leisure suit with a paisley shirt featuring 3 inch cuffs.
"Welcome to Bertinelli's. I am finishing up with another customer. Please feel free to browse; I will be with you in one moment," the slim proprietor popped into view for just a second to greet them.
"Not to worry," Lady Farnsworth assured him. "We have much to discuss." Lowering her volume, she turned to Lee, "We can use the time to discuss some things that Mr. Bertinelli doesn't need to hear. He's a tailor in a town full of intelligence agencies and law enforcement officials, but we don't want to be too obvious about your profession."
"Well, yeah," Lee snorted, "I'm not so green that I wear a name tag announcing myself as a government agent." Lee rolled his eyes at her's reminder of a need for secrecy. He had served with Military Intelligence for two years in the jungles of Vietnam. He knew how to do his job.
"It might not be on a name tag, but the bulge below your right shoulder blade announces the presence of a gun, which you draw with your left hand." The senior agent remarked mildly as she casually looked at the selection of ties. She didn't want to directly challenge the brash young man, but she did need him to listen to her.
Lee looked at her in surprise and then glanced into a mirror on the counter beside an array of hats. He twisted slightly at the waist and flexed his shoulder and grimaced as he saw the bulge. "Damn. Pardon my language." The apology was automatic and insincere. If they worked together all summer, she would surely hear worse.
Lady Farnsworth resisted the urge to smile and continued establishing her authority with this rookie, "A good tailor can help conceal the weapon, but only if he knows to do so. You'll be running, fighting, and shooting in tuxedos and suits throughout your career. They need to fit well and move with you. While you're getting measured, we'll make sure that Mr. Bertinelli knows what we want. During the first fitting, you'll need to move in every direction so that the clothing allows you to do your job without ripping the seams. Good fit is top priority." She was glad that Harry had suggested she use her British persona with this arrogant young man. She needed every ounce of authority she could muster and Americans seemed to respond well to British accents.
"Dancing the frug at senior prom in a tux was like dancing in a straight-jacket. I didn't know tuxes were supposed to allow any movement."
"Fashions change, but the upper class always insist on good fit and good quality. Feel these ties." She placed one in Lee's right hand, and one in his left.
Lee sighed impatiently. "I like the navy with red stripes."
"The navy has little bumps in the silk indicating that it is inferior in quality to the gray tie. Can you feel the difference?"
"Oh, that's groovy." Lee's smile transformed his face. The gray silk slid smoothly through his fingers. Seeing his smile, she felt the first stirring of hope that this mission might be enjoyable after all.
"And this little stitch here on the underside of the tie ensures that it will hold its shape better. Limit your selection to good quality fabric, and only then choose colors and patterns."
Mr. Bertinelli approached with an outstretched hand to Lee, "I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting. Thank you for coming to Bertinelli's. How can I help you today?" He bowed slightly in Lady Farnsworth's direction. The tailor was a few inches shorter than Lee and seemed scrawny compared to the agent's muscular build. His hair was firmly held in place by a scented pomade and reading glasses dangled from a chain around his neck. His dove gray, three piece suit, was appropriately conservative.
Lee shook hands and replied, "Hey, no problem."
Lady Farnsworth nodded graciously in greeting and said, "We are grateful that you had an opening for a fitting today. Harry Thornton recommended you. I can browse fabrics and accessories while Lee gets measured." She made a mental note to work on Lee's manners.
Two exhausting hours later, the two agents exited the shop. Mr. Bertinelli had agreed to provide six suits and one tuxedo for fitting on Friday, with adjustments and a final fitting by the following Tuesday. Lee's mind was swimming with an overload of details about fabric, color, shape and other clothing minutia. He wouldn't admit it, but Lady Farnsworth's help had been invaluable. His mind had gone numb after the first 15 minutes.
"Wow, I'm glad that's over," Lee exclaimed, as they walked to his car.
"Lee, we still need to buy shirts, ties, socks and such when we go back on Friday. But, yes, it's over for today. We can save leather goods like a new wallet, shoes, and belts for Friday, too. Among the rich, all of the details matter."
Amanda laughed, "I faked being Victoria Grenich for a few days, but the Agency provided the clothing and jewelry. Trying to do that for three months would have taken a lot more work. I can't imagine hosting Jim Delano for casual evenings in that elegant mansion with the silent Agency servants. I'd probably forget my role, and jump up to wash the dishes or take out the trash." The friends laughed comfortably together, and Lee found himself expanding his story, just to hear another peal of laughter.
"Yeah. The colonel taught me to shine shoes and tuck my shirt tails, but I barely owned a suit before I started working for the Agency. I even learned to tie a formal bow tie properly when we went back to the tailor."
(Cue the harp music again.)
Nedlindger's Pub
lunch time, Friday, May 19, 1973
The fitting was wickedly designed to be as frustrating as possible for the young agent. It had been scheduled at 8:00 in the morning, and Lee was not a morning person. Following his energetic date with Tricia, morning had come entirely too early. At the tailor's, Lee had been forced to change clothes repeatedly and stand, bend, stretch, and twist forever while Mr. Bertinelli had measured, marked and made notes for adjustments. Six suits and a tuxedo – the torture lasted for hours.
Then, the tailor had the gall to direct Lee to sit on a low stool while he stood behind Lee and, reaching over his shoulders, demonstrated – step by finicky step – how to tie a formal bow tie. Even worse, after all of his grousing, Lee's first attempts at tying his own bow were pathetic failures. It wasn't the same as being able to tie his shoe. His jaw ached from being clenched to control his temper. Finally, he was instructed to get dressed in his own clothes, but the torment was not over – not by a long shot. They still had to discuss shirts, the quality of leather for belts and wallets, socks for every occasion, and neckties. Clothing had never been so complicated before. At least his relationship with the stiff Lady Farnsworth had relaxed a bit; she had urged him to call her "Emily."
They exited the tailor shop and Lee deliberately chose a restaurant that served liquor – not just a sandwich shop. At the end of placing their order and selecting a glass of wine that would complement his meal, Lee ordered a scotch.
Emily raised one eyebrow delicately, "Is that wise, Lee, at this time of day? We still have many things to do to prepare for our assignment." She lifted her water glass with a flourish to emphasize her choice of beverage.
"It's not only wise, but necessary," growled Lee. "After all that shi- uh, hassle, I need something to help me loosen up." His gruff demeanor was somewhat tempered by the jaw-cracking yawn that he nominally tried to conceal. He scrubbed his face vigorously with both hands. "I didn't get enough sleep last night. You might say after that ordeal this morning I am fit to be tied."
Emily chuckled at Lee's pun and followed it with another. "Well, suit yourself."
The waitress delivered Lee's scotch and he took a large swallow. "That appointment was tailor-made to leave me hot under the collar."
"It seams to me that someone is too big for his britches."
"Put a sock in it, Emily, or I'll have to belt you." The puns and laughter continued until the waitress returned with lunch. The camaraderie eased Lee's tension, and conversation over their meal was pleasant.
Emily interjected just one more clothing issue at the end of the meal. "Lee, I don't want to get too personal. However, I would like to make the observation that field work is full of surprises, and bullet wounds or other injuries might force one to remove one's pants under less than ideal circumstances. In those situations, boxer shorts provide a small degree of modesty and blue boxers might even appear as swim trunks or shorts from a distance."
Lee couldn't believe his ears. He hastily lifted his wine glass to hide his face. He was shocked that this genteel English lady was talking about men's underwear.
She continued her observations in her proper British accent. "Blue boxers are much more discreet than those skimpy low-rise briefs that Mark Spitz is always parading around in. Those garments leave absolutely nothing to the imagination."
Lee choked on his last swallow of wine.
Randy's Restaurant
dinner, Friday evening, May 19, 1973
"Billy, I nearly spewed wine through my nose, I was so surprised." Lee hadn't planned to tell Billy about that part of his lunch with Emily but the last beer must have loosened his tongue more than usual. Their weekly steak-and-beer debriefing was winding down.
"Did you point out that Spitz is posing in his Olympic swim trunks, not underwear?" Both men were laughing so hard that Billy had to ask the question twice in order to be understood.
"At first, I couldn't breathe, and then I was afraid to mention it again." The two men wiped the tears from their eyes. Their howls of laughter had drawn the attention of the other patrons. In those days, Billy had a three-inch afro and a horseshoe mustache. He had broken his leg while undercover in a local chapter of the Black Panthers, which forced him into several months at a desk job. His burly physique had softened and spread, and he had been impatient to get back into the field. Supervising Lee as a new recruit had been the best part of his office assignment.
"Other than the wardrobe miseries, how are things going with Emily?"
"She seems to know her stuff," the young agent grudgingly admitted with a shrug. "She reminds me of a school teacher, but she's not too bad. I mean... she's had some good ideas, but..." Lee shook his head doubtfully, "three months is a long time. Did you know she trained in theater?"
"Yeah, her theater skills are a real asset to her work. You can learn a lot from her in three months."
"I can dig it." Lee drummed his hands on the dinner table (ba-dup-bump), "Listen, dinner's been great, but I've got another hot date and I need to go."
"Who is it tonight? Pamela?"
"No way, Jose. Pamela was Wednesday. Tricia was last night. Liz and I are going to Boogie Palace tonight." Lee stood and tugged his wallet from his back pocket.
"What is this – an all-star line-up of dates?" Billy shook his head fondly over the cocky agent's relationships.
Lee laughed, "Something like that. In three months, any one of these chicks could be 'off the market,' you know. I want to be sure at least one will give me a warm welcome when I return." He wiggled his eyebrows to indicate that "warm welcome" was an understatement.
"Just remember, it's easier to build a reputation like that than it is to live it down." Billy quoted his father's advice to young men.
"That's what you keep saying, but I can't imagine wanting to live it down. Certainly not this week." The agent with an overactive libido threw money on the table to cover his tab and waved at his mentor. "Catch ya on the flip side."
Billy waved back and shouted, "Stay cool."
Lee had fallen silent as he remembered that day with Emily. The edited account that he shared with Amanda had stopped with his memories of trading puns prior to lunch being served. Emily's parting comments about boxer shorts and the conversation with Billy didn't suit the relationship he was hoping to develop with his companion.
Amanda watched his face as the unspoken memories brought smiles and even a quiet laugh at the end. The dimples flashed, then disappeared, then deepened again. She was enchanted as the emotions flickered across his face - his brows, his smile, the way his lips puckered when he tried to suppress his smile, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. She loved seeing him in these unguarded moments. Lee suddenly remembered she was waiting for the rest of his tale, and offered a few more details.
"By the end of the summer, I could tie a perfect bow without using a mirror. I couldn't believe how many times I had to put on that tux in three months!"
"My formal wardrobe has expanded since I met you, that's for sure. I didn't know that lowly public servants attended so many ritzy events."
Lee chuckled, "Yeah, we mingle with all types. From Auggie Swan to Princess Penny."
"How did you get invited to live at the palace all summer?"
"Emily had known the semi-royal family that owned the palace in her school days and was invited to a full summer of family festivities – milestone birthdays, the anniversary of the palace, things like that. We developed the cover of aunt and nephew, and carried it off well, I think. Our assignment was to work with the German authorities to identify smuggling methods, locate illegal drug labs, and put a dent in a flourishing drug trade. My recent discharge from the military was useful in gaining the confidence of American military personnel in Munich, and I was able to go undercover among international students on local college campuses, too. I was in over my head, but I had a great time that summer. A dozen of us went on a running and hiking trip through the Alps that was harder than any course I ever faced in Basic Training. I still do an Alps run with one of those guys whenever I can get to Germany." He swallowed the last of his coffee, and pushed the cup and saucer aside.
"Oh, yes, you mentioned that as part of your workout routine when we were at that survivalist camp. It sounded more mysterious and glamorous back then," she teased. "Not many rookie agents would get such a terrific first assignment."
"You're right about that. A three-month, international assignment with an agent of Emily's experience was better than a year of classes."
She looked around and noticed that the far side of the dining room was already set for tomorrow's breakfast and a table in the corner was filled with staff eating their late-night dinners prior to closing. She smiled apologetically, "We really need to get out of here and let these folks close up."
They left the laughter at the table, as their minds turned to the missing agent. In the elevator, Lee's left arm was curled snugly around Amanda's waist, and his right hand brushed through his hair and rubbed his neck. He sighed, "Emily has pulled my bacon out of the fire more than once. I sure hope I can return the favor this time."
"Of course, you will. You're the best in the business. I'm sure you'll figure it out."
Agents regularly reassured each other about successful outcomes, because the horrible consequences of failure simply were intolerable. As they exited the elevator, he couldn't bear to imagine Emily... He interrupted his own dismal thoughts to smile uncertainly at his companion. "I certainly hope so, Amanda."
Amanda paused at the door to her room and placed her hand on his upper arm. "We'll find her, Lee. Mariana knows something; I'm sure of it. We'll talk to her before the cafe opens for breakfast. We won't let Emily down." With those encouraging words, she stepped into her room, and they exchanged "good nights."
He waited outside her door until he heard the lock turn and the chain sliding in place. Satisfied with her security for the night, he sauntered to his room. Remembering his long-ago conversation with Billy, he mused that he had a choice to make. If he wanted to pursue a relationship with Amanda King, he would need to reform his reputation. A woman like Amanda didn't fit in an all-star line-up of dates. She was an all-or-nothing kind of woman. Actually, he had two issues to consider: Is he ready to leave the roller-coaster thrills of casual relationships and multiple partners? And, if so, would he leave the roller-coaster for a chance at a lifetime with Amanda King?
He frowned as he removed his tie and started unbuttoning his shirt. An even bigger question is how much of a chance did he have with Amanda, anyway? He had seen her interacting with other men, some of whom were her dates. Did she look at him any differently than she had looked at them? Was he imagining the spark between them? Would she be interested in a future with him?
Did he even have a future worth sharing? In his twenties, he didn't think he'd live into his thirties. He loved the adrenaline rush of danger and risky behavior too much to live a long life. Now in his thirties, he could barely imagine living into his forties or fifties. He shrugged off his shirt as he firmly shrugged off thoughts of Amanda and his future. He needed a good night's sleep if he planned to rescue Emily tomorrow.
THE END
Author's Note: Lee's dialogue often included puns, but I don't recall other characters punning. I'm guessing that was an aspect that Bruce brought to the role. Regardless of the source of the puns, I included that type of humor as a salute to the character.