The disclaimer: none of these characters belong to me; they belong to Shoot the Moon Enterprises and Warner Bros to whom I am eternally grateful for the opportunity to take them out for a spin and a bit of light humour.

There was mist on the lake, thick enough that it ebbed and flowed onto the shore in swirling eddies with the slightest shift in the morning air, but occasionally its movement allowed for a hint of the dawn light that was breaking somewhere behind it. Lee had found himself a hiding spot just behind a bend in the lake shore and was staring out into the mist as if he could find answers there. He shook himself – whatever answer he was looking for, it wasn't out there. Not when the question was why he was so freaked out over the cabin explosion the night before.

"Are you alright?"

"I don't know… are we alright?"

The sheer terror in Amanda's voice had been like an icicle in his heart. She'd sounded so frightened and for once, he had no one he could fight against. She'd been in danger before but never like this, not from some faceless enemy who took aim from afar with bombs. He preferred his enemies closer where he could fight them with fists or guns…

Or hairspray, he thought and actually found himself laughing out loud into the fog. For some reason, the memory of Amanda brandishing that can of hairspray and blinding Bouchard warmed the spot where that icicle of fear was still making its presence felt. Whatever problems he had with Amanda's insane desire to live out her secret agent fantasies, he couldn't fault her for bravery in the face of danger.

When it had a face. He growled into the mist, picking up a rock laying near his foot and pitching it into the lake as if the aggressive physical movement would relieve some of his stress. He hadn't gotten much sleep, and not just because his cabin had been blown to smithereens. He'd walked Amanda back to her cabin after the fuss had died down, then gone to talk more with Billy, trying to think of ways to flush out Vardosk – because it had to be him – before he managed to kill an innocent bystander.

My innocent bystander, he found himself thinking fiercely before pulling himself up short. Oh for Pete's sake, how had that happened? When did Billy's jokes about his new partner turn into this? And why in God's name had he talked her into staying at the Agency after that kidnap attempt? All those months of trying to get her to step away and he'd blown the perfect opportunity to let her resign and go back to her nice safe life and now he was stuck here watching her crumble in the face of real pressure, Part of him – the part he didn't like very much – was kind of enjoying watching her struggle because every time something went wrong, he could add it to his list of things he was right about and Billy's grunts of frustration had made it clear that he was irritated too except… Lee knew it wasn't Amanda Billy was irritated with, it was his stupid attitude. He pitched another rock into the lake with a grunt of annoyance. Why the hell was Billy so intent on running Amanda through these tests anyway? What possible good could come of it?

I don't know - what could the agency do with a housewife? But you've sort of come in handy in the past…

Handy. Huh. He dropped his head, shaking it with a low laugh, remembering the look on her face when he'd come up with that response. He wondered what zinger she'd been about to come back with before they'd been interrupted by Billy calling them. From the light in her eye, it probably would have been good – he couldn't remember the last time he'd been around a woman more willing to call him on his BS – and so nicely too. He always knew he was in trouble when her Southern drawl got more pronounced, but she was always so nice about it as if she thought she could hurt his feelings. Or as if she really cared about him.

Got anywhere to go for Thanksgiving? You don't go to singles bars, do you?

He stared into the mist, suddenly transported back to that day by the Tidal Basin a year ago. There'd been fog then too, although the mist has been beginning to rise as they'd said goodbye – or what he'd thought was goodbye. He'd gotten angry and defensive, hearing that note of concern in her voice because even then, he'd known she meant it. She wasn't being polite; on the basis of a few days' acquaintance, she was perfectly willing to sweep him under her wing and look after him just because she thought he needed it.

I like being alone.

Will I see you again?

No.

Back then he hadn't been able to read that look on her face. He'd assumed she was upset that he was being dismissive of her help, or worried that she'd upset him by making him blurt out everything about his partner's death, but now he knew that look. That had been her mothering look, the one he dreaded most of all because it was like she could see straight through him.

He'd underestimated her back then, writing the whole thing off as a bored suburbanite who'd read too many romance novels. He'd underestimated her tenacity, her people skills, her crazy leaps in logic, her friendship…

He flung another pebble into the water. He knew she could tell he wasn't happy about her being here either – that flash of disappointment every time he made a remark held so much more hurt than any time Francine did the same thing. He knew why – he knew she hoped for more from him because they were friends, but he just couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth, a truth he barely admitted to himself.

Splash. Another pebble disappeared below the surface.

The truth was… He liked having Amanda around. She didn't bother him about his lifestyle, she didn't expect anything from him outside of work, she made him laugh, she was just nice and – here was the part he hated to admit – he knew she made him better at his job because she kept him from rushing into things because he always had to factor her reactions into everything. He was lying about preferring to work alone – he'd always been better with a partner – but he knew he couldn't stand to lose another one.

The fog echoed back the bellow of frustration he yelled out across the water.

"You're putting he r name forward for more training? Seriously? Why?" Lee's voice was rising, enough that people in the bullpen were turning to look curiously at Billy's office, even if they couldn't make out the words.

"Why wouldn't I? She's demonstrated again and again that she has an aptitude for lateral thinking, for instinctive reaction and a loyalty to her partner that seems to be impossible to cure her of – despite being partnered with a jackass!" Billy's tone had risen as well over the last few words. "Don't even think about saying it!" he added with a snarl as he recognized Lee getting ready to debate that last point. "Amanda has been nothing but a loyal partner to you for months – you will show her at least that same courtesy!"

"Fine! Fine! I'll grant you she has a way of seeing things that's come in useful sometimes, but Billy, this job isn't all intuition and being in the wrong place at the wrong time! Why would you agree to continue any training when she's patently unfit for it? She can't shoot, she can't fight, heck she can't even drive!" Lee had jumped up and was pacing again in his well-worn path across Billy's office.

"Scarecrow, sit down!" Billy pointed sternly at the chair and waited until Lee had dropped into it, scowling. "Now, I don't know why you are so hell-bent on preventing Amanda from going on with this, but let's at least start with some straight facts. I know, you know, even she knows she can't shoot or fight– that's why she's been asking for the training. And hell– you know she can drive – you were in the Vigilant when she outran most of the US Army so you know she performs well under pressure. Everything else is just practice. She flew a damn helicopter to save your butt the first week you met her so don't tell me she can't be taught to do a bootlegger turn!" His voice softened, looking at Lee's stony expression. "Lee, why exactly are you so determined to stop her continuing?"

"I just don't think she's cut out for this," Lee tried to sound confident about that. "There was barely one test out there that she made it through."

"That's not true and you know it," Billy reprimanded him. "Her scores were perfectly in line with everyone else on that course – at least the ones who weren't already agents or spies! In fact, she outdid you on the current events quiz." Billy couldn't hold back his grin at Lee's look of shock. "Good thing one of you knows who Michael Jordan is – that boy is going to be big some day." He took a deep breath and got back on topic, in a calmer tone. "Lee, you know perfectly well that Station One is just that – the first step in judging a person's suitability for this line of work, but it's also our first chance to test out other areas where they might have strengths. Simon Floyd actually rolled the car during his test because he was too cocky to listen to Duffy's instructions – and Brad Jordan aced the driving test, but can't string two coherent sentences together that aren't related to car engines, but they both still have skills we can use. Amanda is bright, willing to learn and has good instincts. And if you ask me, I think the reason she didn't do well on some of those tests is your fault."

"My fault? How was any of that my fault?"

"Because she didn't concentrate on the things she's good at – she tried to be good at everything because she thought you'd expect it – and instead of supporting her like a partner, you spent the whole time discouraging her until she couldn't think straight!"

Lee glared at his boss, knowing he was at least partially right. He had spent far more energy trying to tell Amanda she didn't belong there when he should have been giving her help. Billy glared back, waiting for him to defend the indefensible. When he did start to speak, he could hear the petulance in his own voice.

"I still think you're getting her hopes up for no good reason when she isn't ever going to get beyond office work and the occasional courier run – and for God's sake, look how those work out! In her last two, she's been arrested for counterfeiting and kidnapped by white slavers!" Lee finished angrily.

Billy leaned back in his chair and regarded Lee's mutinous expression thoughtfully. "Well," he said finally. "I guess I see more potential there than you do, but I give up." He shook his head at the way Lee straightened up hopefully. "Oh no, I'm not giving up on training her, I'm giving up on convincing you it's a good idea." He pursed his lips and tapped the file on his desk. "You know, I'd hoped to put this through with your endorsement, but I know you're eager to get going on that Riviera vacation, so I'll tell you what. You take the paperwork, give it some thought overnight and bring it back tomorrow. If you change your mind, great. If you don't, I'll add an amendment to the request noting your disagreement. That way, if she's really the washout you think she'll be, your record is clear. Deal?" He held out the folder and waited for Lee to take it.

Lee glared at him for several seconds, as if he was trying to figure out what the trick was before finally reaching out and taking it unwillingly. "Fine," he said. "But I'm not going to change my mind."

"Well then, you can drop it off tomorrow and go enjoy your holiday with Bambi with a clear conscience." Billy walked to the door and pulled it open, obviously dismissing him.

"It's not Bambi, it's Brandy," growled Lee as he stomped out, missing seeing Billy's lips twitch at how easily he'd been baited.

Lee swung by his desk, grabbing his jacket and keys and stood there for a moment, staring at the folder in his hands before dropping it decisively in the mail tray and walking out of the bullpen. All the way to his car and for several minutes after starting to drive, he kept replaying that conversation in Billy's office. He knew Billy was right – Amanda wasn't completely unsuited for this, but she was never going to be hard enough to survive it. She was too optimistic, too trusting, too… Amanda. He sighed, staring out into the evening traffic passing in front of him as he waited at a red light. Half a block up ahead, he realized he could see Amanda's station wagon pulling out of a parking lot onto the main road.

What's she doing here? was his first thought and then looking around, he realized for the first time that instead of driving home, he'd automatically driven to Arlington and they were five minutes from Maplewood Drive. Lee drummed his fingers on the steering wheel before coming to a decision. When the light turned green, he carried on straight, instead of turning around to make his way back to his own neighborhood. "I should at least say goodbye before I disappear for two weeks," he said out loud, trying to justify it to himself. He pulled up with a few car lengths and started to follow her back to her house, figuring he could get her attention before she went inside.

It took him a minute to realize that Amanda had begun to take a very erratic route home, no rhyme or reason, just odd turns through the backstreets. For a few turns, he assumed she was on her way to do some errand on her way home, but when she finally pulled over, she didn't get out of the car, she didn't turn off the engine – she just sat there. He pulled in to the curb as well, concerned something was wrong, and was just about to get out of his car, when she suddenly pulled out at high speed and shot off down the road. By the time he had begun to pull back out and follow her, she'd reached the four way stop, where to his astonishment, she jammed on the brakes, executed a nearly perfect bootlegger turn and came tearing back up the road toward him. He jerked the 'Vette to the side of the road as she managed to thread the needle between him and a parked car and disappeared back the way they'd come.

Every instinct he had told him what must be happening. "Oh my God, who's got her now?" he yelled as he raced to get turned around to pursue her. He could see the tail lights of her station wagon just barely visible a few blocks away now and then they vanished as she went around a corner.

Lee could only be thankful the street was quiet as he gunned the engine and tore after her. Getting to the corner where he was certain she'd turned, he slowed, realizing it was the entrance to the local park, dark and empty at this time of night in February. He arrived in the parking lot no more than a few seconds after her, but already her car was abandoned, door wide open, lights still on but no sign of her anywhere. His heart rate picked up from the adrenaline rush as his sense of danger increased.

He pulled in beside her car and got out, pushing his jacket open to grab his weapon. He looked into the wagon, looking for any sign of a struggle that might explain her absence, but saw nothing outside of her abandoned purse.

Swinging the car door shut, he crouched down by the car, letting his eyes adjust to the twilight and trying to listen to the sounds of the park, straining to hear any sounds of struggle. Finally, able to see slightly more clearly in the ever increasing darkness, he started to move slowly into the park, using trees as cover and trying desperately to figure out where she might have been taken.

It was the faintest crack of a twig that sent his senses soaring onto alert, but he realized just too late where it had come from as someone leapt out of the tree above him, knocking him to ground, sending him flying, winded and defenseless. He tried to roll over, but was too late to see who had hit him, just able to hear the sound of pounding feet running away, back toward the parking lot.

Now seriously panicking over what they might have done to Amanda, he forced himself to his feet, wheezing and stumbling, trying to follow them when all of a sudden he realized he could hear the sound of those feet again, but now coming back toward him. He stopped dead, swaying in place, thankful he'd managed not to drop his gun, when he heard it.

"Lee? Is that you? Where'd you go?" She sounded frightened, but not like there was a threat, just kind of worried. She must have gotten away – or her attacker had.

"Over here," he managed to croak, bending double and dropping his hands onto his knees, finally able to relax enough to try and take a deep breath.

"Lee!" Amanda appeared out of the shadows, racing to his side, draping an arm over his shoulders and trying to guide him back toward the cars. "Oh Lee, I'm so sorry! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Can you walk? Can you breathe? Should I call for help?"

"Amanda!" he managed to gasp out. "Just… let me… catch… my breath!" He stopped for a moment, forcing air into his lungs until he no longer felt quite so dizzy and could stand up straight. When he did, he realized she still had one hand on his arm and a look of deep concern on her face.

"Are you okay?" she asked again.

"I'm fine," he got out, although he patently wasn't. "How did you get away? Who had you? Why did they bring you here?"

Amanda shifted from foot to foot, her face hard to read in the shadowy light. "I didn't get away. There was nothing to get away from – except you."

"Why would you want to get away from me?" he asked in confusion.

"Well I didn't want to get away from you. I mean, I wouldn't have been trying to get away at all, if I'd realized it was you, but I just thought you were somebody following me so I tried evasive techniques like they tell you about on the Agency tapes, but then I realized I'd gotten myself into a dead end and I thought that I could use the dark to hide and…"

"Amanda!" He held up a hand to stop the ramble mid-flow. "How did you not know it was me?"

She hung her head and sighed with embarrassment before lifting her head to look at him guiltily. "I forgot you had a new car," she whispered.

"You forgot I - "

It was as far as he got before she launched into an explanation.

"Oh now look, Lee, it's an easy mistake. All the time I've known you, you've had the Porsche and obviously I wasn't going to not recognize that car, but you've only had the new one a few weeks and we were out of town for so long in Germany and London and then I was driving home tonight and I saw you in my rear view – well I mean I know now it was you, but I didn't then – and I guess I was so wrought up with the past few days that I just forgot about the 'Vette and you were acting like you were tailing me, so I left the main road to see if I was right and you did follow me, and then I pulled over to let you pass, but you stopped too and then I knew you were following me so I just tried to remember everything about how to get away and then I ended up here and I remembered that part of the course, you know the one about how nobody ever looks up? And so I went up into the tree to hide and then you came sneaking into the park – oh don't even start, you know you were sneaking – and you went right under me and I just thought that if I could knock you down and get back to the car, I could get away. And it worked, right? But then when I got back to the parking lot and saw the 'Vette, I realized I'd forgotten that was your car, and I turned right around and came back." She trailed off and stared at him doubtfully. "Are you mad? You don't usually let me go that long without yelling at me."

"I was using the time to get my breath back," he answered honestly. "You pack a pretty good wallop dropping out of a tree like that."

There was a long pause and then she started to laugh – she tried to hide it, putting her hand over her mouth but the shaking and the muffled sounds gave her away and then he was laughing too.

"Did I knock your stuffing out, Scarecrow?" she asked finally, still a tiny bit of guilt evident in her voice.

"Yeah, you did," he answered, dropping an arm around her shoulders and turning back toward the front of the park. "Francine would have given you full marks for incapacitating the enemy."

"Really?" she asked. "I don't think I did any of the things she told me to do at Station One."

"Really," he confirmed. "The element of surprise is an oldie but a goodie." He shook his head in disbelief. "No one ever looks up – I can't believe I fell for the oldest trick in the book – and from you of all people."

"Hmph." The grunt of annoyance was faint but unmissable.

"What?" he asked, stopping to turn and look at her.

"Oh," she waved a hand in annoyance. "You sounded exactly like Francine just now. 'You of all people.' What does that even mean?"

A wave of guilt washed over him; he'd done it again. "You're right," he said. "I'm sorry. You have a knack for getting yourself into stuff, but you also have a knack for getting back out of them in some pretty smart ways and I forget that sometimes." He held out a hand. "Forgive me?"

She paused for a moment before reaching out to shake it. "I forgive you. After all, you're obviously not thinking clearly after I knocked you out."

"You didn't knock me out, you knocked me down – there's a difference!" he responded hotly, noticing too late the way she was biting her lip to keep from laughing at him again. "Oh for the love of Mike! Just get in your car and I'll follow you home to make sure you get there safely this time! That was a great bootlegger turn, but I don't think this neighborhood is ready for any more of those."

A gurgle of laughter burst out of her. "I could hear Francine's voice clear as day yelling at me and telling me what to do," she grinned. "She's much easier to listen to when she's not actually there giving me the evil eye."

Lee winced mentally. She really couldn't have been doing a better job at rubbing it in that everything Billy had complained about to him was true. "Maybe I'll tell Billy she should record some of those Agency tapes."

She smiled but didn't say anything else, until they were back at the cars, where she stopped and looked over at him. "Why were you following me anyway?"

"Oh! I was in the neighborhood and thought I should say goodbye before I leave on my vacation," he said, slightly embarrassed to be caught out.

"Oh right – Bambi… I forgot."

"Her name is not Bambi – why does everyone keep calling her Bambi?" he asked in frustration.

"Oh, we call all of them Bambi," Amanda volunteered cheerfully. "Saves us having to remember any actual names."

"Who's 'we'?" asked Lee suspiciously, ignoring the underlying insult.

"Well, all of us," she replied, patiently. "Francine, Billy, the guys in the bullpen, even the steno pool… you know, all of us."

"All of us," he repeated.

"Oh don't look like that," she rushed on worriedly, misinterpreting the look on his face. "It's not like we sit around talking about you – it's just what a group of friends does, you know – just teasing, like the way Fred has a pool going every day on how long it will take Francine to say something mean to one of us, or how we bug Louie about napping at his desk on his lunch hour because he's always up at night helping his wife with the new baby." she shrugged. "Family stuff."

Family stuff. He just caught himself from saying it out loud. He stared at her for a few seconds more before shaking his head and moving to get in his car. "Let's get you home."

She didn't move for a second, gazing at him as if she was trying to figure out if he was angry, before she finally got in her car, and drove home – this time with Lee not so far behind her and at a much more sedate pace. Given the performance he'd just witnessed, he had to chuckle as she carefully stopped at each intersection, looking both ways and proceeding as carefully as a mother in a station wagon normally did. When they arrived on Maplewood Drive, he parked across the street, noting as he did so that the house was dark.

"Nobody else home?" he asked, swinging across the road as she began to unload groceries from the back of the wagon.

"Not yet," she answered. "The boys have practice and the coach is taking the team out for pizza and Mother has her garden club. Thank you," she added gratefully as he took the bags and gestured for her to walk ahead of him to the back door.

"Ah," he said. "Family stuff."

"Yeah," she agreed, opening the door and letting him in. "Lee?"

He turned to find her watching him, hands in her pockets and bouncing on her toes the way she always did when she was nervous.

"You're not mad, are you? About the Bambi thing, I mean? I mean, I know you're probably mad about me dropping out of a tree on you, but to be fair, I did think you were a bad guy."

"No, I'm not mad," he answered. "Not about either thing. It just took me by surprise when you talked about the Agency being like family. I guess I forgot how long you've been there – that you have a place there even when you're not helping me."

"Oh." Amanda flushed and stared at the floor. "Well, yeah, I do. It's a nice group of people to work with. But, well, y'know…" She trailed off, then lifted her eyes to look at him. "I have more fun when I'm working with you. I just wish I was more… useful sometimes."

"Oh." He could hear the note of wistfulness in her voice and knew she was talking about the way he'd treated her the past few days. "Well, like I said, you've come in handy from time to time," he said, regretting it the second it came out for how ungracious it sounded.

"Hmph"

There it was again – that annoyed Amanda sound he was getting to know so well. He would have laughed if he hadn't known he deserved it.

"Well, I, uh, better get home and start packing for that trip," he went on lamely. "I'll see you in two weeks, I guess."

"I guess so," she answered, following him to the door. "Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked as he went to leave.

"Am I?" he wondered if she was waiting for an apology or maybe another insult.

"Your spare key?" she said. "I assume your fish still need feeding these days?"

"Oh! Yeah," he answered sheepishly, digging in his pocket for his key ring. "Thanks for remembering. The boys will appreciate your TLC."

"No problem," she waved a hand dismissively. "I'm good at the details."

"You're good at a lot of things," he admitted, ashamed at how pleased she looked at such a small compliment.

"Well, thank you. And have a good trip." Amanda leaned forward impulsively and kissed his cheek. "Bon voyage as the French say."

Lee slunk back to his car, not entirely sure why he was still feeling off-balance and no longer looking forward to his vacation as much as he had. Probably banged my head when she knocked me down, he told himself consolingly. I'll be fine by tomorrow.

He got in the Corvette and turned over the engine but didn't drive away immediately, finding himself brooding instead as he studied the outside of her family home. The longer he stared, the more certain he became of what was bothering him. With a groan, he pulled away from the curb and headed back toward D.C.

Billy was still sitting in his office when he saw Lee's lanky form stalking toward him, folder in his hand, scowl on his face. As he got closer, Billy realized his face was marked up like he'd been in a fight.

"What happened to you?" he asked, gesturing to where a bruise was forming on Lee's cheek.

Lee lifted a hand and rubbed where Billy was pointing. "Nothing," he growled. "I just tripped and hit some gravel." He held up the folder. "You can have this."

"I thought I told you to take until tomorrow to make up your mind?" Billy answered, his disappointment obvious.

"Don't need it," Lee answered, tossing the file into his In tray. "See you in two weeks."

"Have fun with Bambi," Billy couldn't resist calling to his retreating back. Lee didn't turn around – just twisted his hand up and gave him the finger as he walked away, eliciting a deep chuckle from his boss.

Billy's gaze dropped to the folder on his desk, the smile disappearing from his face instantly. He sighed and picked up a pen, ready to write the note he'd promised, absolving Lee of any involvement in supporting Amanda. As he opened the folder, his eye dropped to the bottom of the page where Lee's chicken scratch scrawl leapt out at him.

"Amanda King is a valued and valuable member of the Agency family and as such, deserves to be considered for further candidate training, specifically in the areas of evasive action and self-defense."

Billy grinned and looked up in time to see Lee vanishing past the bullpen windows on his way to the elevator.

"Just tripped, huh Scarecrow? Why do I wish I could have seen that?"

His deep laugh could be heard all the way across the bullpen.