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Amanda paused outside the hospital door and took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart before she went in. The last time she'd seen Francine, she'd been guns blazing following her out of that room in the Cumberland, screaming at her to get to the backup car. In all the times Lee had told her to stay in the car, it had never been in such a life or death situation. Francine had dropped all her princess attitude and ordered her to run – and she'd run. Oh yes, she'd run alright - right into the clutches of Karl Eagles, not knowing she'd left Francine wounded and at the mercies of that hitman. It hadn't been until they were back at the Agency finishing up her debrief that she'd realized what was bothering her – the absence of that one certainty in this job, that she'd be insulted by Francine when it was all over.
Even now, her stomach turned slightly at the memory; eyes sweeping the bullpen, asking where she was and watching Billy's eyes flick away from hers momentarily as if he couldn't meet them. She'd felt the blood rush from her head and had had to steady herself against a desk.
She's dead, killed in the line of duty, killed saving you. First Lance, now Francine. It's all your fault. She was certain that was what was coming next until she'd felt Lee's hands slide under her forearms, his voice forcing her to look up to meet his eyes, bright with concern. He'd known what she was thinking without asking. Of course he had – Lee Stetson had a master's degree in taking the blame for things.
"She's fine. She's down at Parker giving the staff hell but she's fine."
"She's in the hospital? Why is she there? What happened to her after I left her there?" Her voice had sounded shrill even to her own ears.
"You didn't leave her there, Amanda – you followed orders and retreated." Trust Lee to answer the unasked question first. "She got shot in the leg and she's going to be on crutches for a while, but you know what she's like – crutches will be the season's hottest fashion accessory once she's done."
She'd looked into his eyes and seen the honesty there. He wasn't lying, he wasn't coddling her with a version she wanted to hear; he was telling her the bald truth for once, as if he'd known she needed to hear it, not some sort of placating story to make her feel better.
"I need to go see her. Is she allowed visitors?"
Lee had sighed and smiled, shaking his head. "You can go see her any time, but how about after you go home and get some rest? You've barely slept since yesterday – if you don't get some sleep, you'll end up in the hospital bed next to hers and you wouldn't want that, would you?"
She'd had to laugh at the ridiculousness of that but she hadn't agreed either. She needed to see her, needed to see for herself that she was okay. It wasn't that she didn't believe Lee, it was just that she knew she wouldn't sleep anyway until she'd received whatever blast of sarcastic insult Francine was probably storing up for her because for some reason that would make it feel like it was really over.
How do you know when it's over? When the mean lady sings! It was something she had to do, although he might not have understood. Okay, he'd have understood but he'd have disapproved.
So she'd promised Lee she was going home to sleep, grateful that he hadn't phrased it as he usually did – "Go straight home" – because then it wasn't really lying when she stopped to check on Francine on her way. As if he could talk – he hadn't slept either and she was pretty sure he was going to be at the Agency long after she left, tying up all the loose ends. She'd wanted to stay too but Billy had ordered her out.
"No Amanda, we have all the information we need from you today. You go home and come back tomorrow after a good night's sleep and we'll go back over your statement to see if there's anything we missed." His smile had been warm – she could almost believe he didn't blame her for any of it, even though everything that had gone wrong was obviously her fault.
She'd just nodded and made agreeing sounds – without a doubt he'd also have disapproved of this little side trip on her way home, but she was so tired she was past caring. After all, what was he going to do about it - arrest her? Somehow in the dizziness of fatigue she found herself laughing outside Francine's door at the mental image of her two choices: a hospital bed beside Francine or a jail cell beside Karl Eagles. She took another deep breath to control the incipient hysteria and pushed the door open slowly.
Francine, normally so much larger than life, looked so tiny in a hospital bed. The room already had a few flower arrangements – bad news travelled fast in their circles – but Amanda hadn't bothered with anything as mundane as flowers. She paused, not certain all of a sudden whether this had been a good idea after all. She was probably the last person Francine wanted to see right now; she hovered in the open door, trying to decide what to do.
"What's the matter? You look like you're afraid I'm going to throw something at you," came a tart voice from across the room. Amanda couldn't help grinning with relief at the much-missed verbal tongue-lashing; suddenly Francine didn't look nearly as small as she had at first glance.
"Well if you were sleeping, I didn't want to disturb you," answered Amanda as she stepped into the room. "Besides I couldn't be sure if you were a subscriber to the Stetson School of patient behavior. I've never had to visit you in the hospital before."
"Believe me, as long as you're not a nurse with a needle, a thermometer, a blood pressure cuff, or any other instrument of torture, you're safe from me." Francine looked her over, not liking what she saw. Amanda's fair skin always made her seem pale but under the fluorescent lights, she looked almost grey. "But what are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be home recovering from last night too?"
Amanda gave a slight shrug and came to stand beside the bed. "I wanted to come make sure you were okay. Mother and the boys are still at my Aunt Edna's because I told them the house was getting gassed today, although I really don't know why I came up with such a stupid idea because the neighbors are going to tell Mother that the house never got tented – unless Mr. Melrose actually arranged for that to happen, I should probably check with him – anyway I'd be home alone and to be honest it's kind of freaking me out a bit so I thought I'd just keep moving until I get too tired not to sleep..."
"Amanda! Stop!" Francine's voice cut through the ramble like a sword. "Are you telling me you haven't been home or had any sleep since yesterday?" For the first time she took in the dark shadows under Amanda's eyes and the slight tremble in her hands. She'd known Amanda didn't look great when she came in but close up, now she saw all the signs of exhaustion. "No wonder you look like hell."
"Well, thank you so much," said Amanda in a teasing tone that didn't quite hide how tired she was. "But, um, yeah, I guess so. I mean, I dozed off and on last night when they had me locked up in the storage room at the factory but I've been at the Agency most of the day debriefing and then it seemed silly to go home and sleep in the middle of the afternoon. So I decided to come here and check on you after I ran a few errands – including this one." She reached into her shoulder bag and pulled something out.
As a distraction technique, it worked like a charm. Francine's eyes lit up at the sight of a golden box in Amanda's hands. "If those are what I think they are, Willy Wonka, you can come by any time!"
Amanda snorted indelicately. "What do you mean 'if those are what I think they are'? Come on, Francine, I know you can spot a DeVaronna box from a mile away with both eyes tied behind your back."
"That's a stomach-turning image," said Francine, holding out her hands eagerly. "But not enough that it will put me off having one of those right now. Gimme!"
"So you're feeling alright?" asked Amanda with an amused smile as she handed it over.
"Well, alright isn't the word I'd use," answered Francine, carefully perusing the box and plucking out a favorite. She bit into it, and a moan of delight escaped her. "But as gunshot wounds go, this one was one of the better ones I've had."
She looked up at the small sound of distress Amanda had just given out as she slumped into the chair beside Francine's hospital bed. "What's the matter?" she asked.
"This was one of your better gunshot wounds?" repeated Amanda, a look of complete incredulity on her face.
"Well, I mean, they're never fun, but this one didn't hit anything important, didn't leave any bits inside and I got medical attention pretty soon afterward, so… yeah. Not so bad," shrugged Francine.
She pretended to be carefully studying the box of chocolates so she didn't have to look at Amanda. Gunshot wounds were never 'not so bad' but there was no way she was telling Amanda that, especially when she looked this tired and stressed already. She never needed to know how excruciatingly painful it had been, or how Francine had been sure she was going to bleed to death in that dark room across the way because she couldn't get back up. Amanda didn't need to know what an overwhelming relief it had been to hear Lee breaking down the door to that room. She'd heard him calling her from the hallway and been too weak with blood loss to answer, but he'd followed the trail of blood and found her. She'd been able to hear the fear in his voice though as he'd cradled her in his arms, telling her she'd be okay, alternating it with yelling for help. He'd sounded so concerned for her that she'd assumed that Amanda was fine at first; it wasn't until she'd seen the look on his face when she'd asked that she realized she was wrong. She scowled down at the box – that shouldn't have happened either; she was the one who was supposed to be guarding Amanda.
"I'm so sorry," Amanda whispered wretchedly. "This is all my fault."
Francine looked up at her, eyes wide with disbelief. "Your fault? How do you figure that?"
"Because you were protecting me! If I hadn't gotten myself in the sights of those people, you never would have been there."
"Of course I would have been there, or if not me, someone else." said Francine. "Sooner or later, at some point, Eagles and his cronies would have screwed up and been caught. I mean, we'd already noticed how suspicious it was that all those traded agents were conveniently dying. You getting that hitman's paycheck just sped it all up a little."
"Lance died because of me though," Amanda went on. "If I'd just turned in that paycheck instead of letting Lee talk me into going to him, he'd still be alive and playing his silly little puzzle games. And that poor man at the vintage clothing store – he had nothing to do with it and he was almost killed just because I walked into his store!"
"You're kidding, right? Amanda, people were already dying – I mean they weren't nice guys, but they weren't supposed to die either. You can't take the blame for everything that goes wrong on a case – you'll make yourself crazy!"
"It just seems sometimes like I attract the bad luck," sighed Amanda. "But it's always other people that get hurt."
Francine shrugged. "People get hurt in this business, Amanda. It's just the way it goes."
"Don't you ever get tired of it?" Amanda found herself repeating the same question she'd asked Lee two days ago.
"I've had days I hated – days where I've been hurt, days where I've lost friends – like Andy – but it's a job that has to be done."
"That's what Lee says too." Amanda looked like there was more bothering her than just the events of the past few days – she looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.
"Don't you think so? I mean, you almost died in a furnace today and a freezer a few months ago– why were you so keen to stick with it?" Francine offered her the chocolate box and Amanda took one absently.
"I told Lee that I wanted to make the world a better place."
Francine cocked her head and observed her. "And isn't that why?"
"Oh it is, but I wonder sometimes if I'm actually good at any of this. Maybe I should have tried some other way."
"What the hell is wrong with you today?" asked Francine curtly. "Why are you second guessing yourself at something you have a knack for? A weird knack, but still."
"I do?" Amanda stared at her, startled by what sounded almost like a compliment.
Francine rolled her eyes. "Look, I'll admit when we first met, I thought you were just a ditzy housewife who'd seen too many spy movies but you proved me wrong even then. You saw things that an entire agency full of operatives had missed - and saved me and Lee in the process. People with way more experience than me all think you have something to offer: Billy, Harry Thornton, Emily – hell, even Rupert recognized you had something the first time he met you – they all see it, so I don't know why you're questioning it. And even more than that, you're a good person. Do you know how many genuinely good people I know? I could count them on one hand." She held up two fingers, and then after some thought, added a third and more slowly, a fourth. "Seriously."
Well, thank you," Amanda added. "I think," she added with a faint smile.
"You don't think I mean it?"
"No, I know you well enough to know you wouldn't say it if you didn't mean it, I just wonder... You know what? Never mind, I'm being silly and I shouldn't be bothering you with this, especially not when you have all this to deal with."
Francine sighed and put the chocolate box down so she could give Amanda her full attention. "Oh for Crissakes, Amanda. Spill it – you wonder what?"
Amanda met her eyes for a moment, then looked away out the window. "I wonder if being a good person is enough. If being a good person isn't actually a negative in this job. I wish I could be more like you." She looked back, seeing the little frown settling on Francine's face. "Oh that sounds wrong... I don't mean you're a bad person, or that Lee is, or that that's what makes you so good at this. It's just that I think I'm too weak sometimes."
"Are you serious?" Francine didn't think she was until she saw that faint shadow of sadness go across Amanda's face. "Why on earth would you think that? You've been through crazy things working with Lee and you stayed committed to this. You bounce back from things that would send seasoned agents into cardiac arrest and you do it with a smile on your face. That shows strength, not weakness." She could have stopped there but couldn't help herself from adding, "Either that or an almost unbelievable level of stupidity."
She thought Amanda would know she was teasing, and indeed, she did give the beginnings of a laugh but it had ended on a kind of choked-back sob. Amanda stood up abruptly, hand over her mouth, eyes shining with the slightest shimmer of tears.
"I should go. You need your rest," she gulped out and turned for the door.
"What I need is for you to sit your ass back down and tell me what the real problem is," snapped Francine, pointing at the vacated chair. "A few months back you were perfectly happy to use your dying breath to call me a witch, so you are not leaving here looking like that and leaving me to explain to Lee that I managed to make you cry!" Amanda still looked ready to flee. "Amanda! I can't chase you so you're just using an unfair advantage. A good person wouldn't do that."
Amanda gave another half laugh-half sob and walked back to the chair, but didn't sit.
"It's nothing you did. I guess I'm a little freaked out by the whole thing. Those people thought they were the good guys too – they thought they were doing the right thing. They thought they were making the world a better place."
She began pacing, which Francine found funny for obvious reasons but didn't comment on, settling instead with replying, "And the difference between us and them, Amanda, is that we know they weren't. I still don't understand though why this is bothering you so much."
"It bothers me because…" Even Amanda seemed to be having a hard time figuring it out. "Because how do I tell the good guys from the bad guys when they all think they're good?"
"Amanda, that's nonsense, it's like your super power to understand people, to see the good or bad in people."
"No it isn't – I've gotten fooled plenty of times." She began ticking them off on her fingers. "Alan Squires, Peter Brackin, Sinclair…"
Francine lifted her own hand and mimicked her motions. "Sociopath, psychopath, lunatic. Amanda, everyone was fooled by those guys – and those were all a long time ago. You're not as naïve as you used to be, you've got much better skills now. And look at all the people you were right about when everyone else was wrong: Margaret Brock, Connie Barnhill… Lee."
Amanda stopped pacing and stared at her, eyes wide. "What do you mean, Lee?"
"Well, when he was pretending to be a burnout, you refused to believe it, didn't you? Not like me," she went on bitterly. "I'm so jaded I just accepted it as a fact of Agency life. But you didn't. In fact, it wasn't even just that case – he was a jerk to you when you first met – yes, I know, we both were – but you didn't seem to let it bother you, you just nice-d him until he turned back into the old Lee, the way he was before Andy died. And once you'd broken him in, you started in on me with your chocolates and your insults."
"Is nice a verb?" asked Amanda, distracted momentarily. "And how the heck do you nice someone with insults?"
"It is when it's done by you, and when you started insulting me, it was nice. It was like you'd stopped being nervous around me and relaxed enough to insult me like a friend. It made me feel like maybe it wasn't just the Lee and Amanda club."
"The what?" said Amanda in a stunned tone.
"The two of you – you've got some kind of connection – I don't know how to describe it. Lee and Andy were the same way, a sort of two halves of a whole thing, like they didn't need anyone else."
"Oh, I don't think so," spluttered Amanda. "I mean, from everything I've heard, they had a pretty special partnership – I don't think our friendship even comes close to that."
"It's different, of course, but it's the same in a lot of ways. You bring out the best in Lee, see things he doesn't, make him laugh the same way, laugh at him the same way. But that's what I mean – he was turning into a not very nice guy by the time you met him and you rubbed off all the spiky bits."
"But isn't that a bad thing?" persisted Amanda. "Maybe what keeps him sharp in the field are those spiky bits, the distrust. What if that's what keeps him alive and someday something happens to him because he trusted me when he shouldn't have?"
Francine frowned and thought about that for a moment. She didn't think Amanda was right but she could see why she was thinking it. Finally she leaned back on her pillow and said, "Look, this is probably just the drugs talking but here's how I see it. When you two first met, Lee was all armor and spikes and you were all puppies and softness. But over the past three years, you've softened his worst edges and he's uncovered the armor you had under there all along. So you're both better – you balance each other out. He has his super powers, you have yours."
"But, what if my kryptonite is not seeing the bad in people until it's too late? What if I am just stupid? About people, I mean? What if I'm too gullible?"
"No, you're not gullible, you're just optimistic. That's not a bad thing. We've got enough pessimists around already. If you only see the worst in people, what would be the point in this job? Who would you be doing it for, if you thought everyone was a dirtbag?"
"But what about when I don't see it in time? What about when I trust someone and I let them get close because they seem nice and I'm wrong? What about when I screw up a mission because when it turns out they're not nice, they've already gotten you drunk and ripped half your clothes off?" Amanda slapped her hand over her mouth as if she could haul the words back in by sheer force of will and where she'd been white before, now she was scarlet.
"Whoa," whispered Francine, all the brain fuzziness of the pain killers suddenly gone. "What are you talking about?"
Amanda didn't say anything, just stood there swaying, still with that look on her face.
"Sit" ordered Francine, and waited for Amanda to obey. "Not Lee?"
"Of course not Lee!" The outrage Amanda managed to get into that answer was immensely reassuring, not just because it was what Francine wanted to hear but also because there was still enough strength in Amanda to fight.
"So who?" She narrowed her eyes. "Alan Chamberlain?"
"No, no, not him either," Amanda had gone back to an almost inaudible whisper but Francine could still tell she was telling the truth. "It was so much stupider than that, and so much longer ago. It shouldn't even still be bothering me."
"Was it on a case? Or something personal?" Amanda lifted her eyes in confusion and Francine shrugged. "We've all had bad dates – it doesn't have to happen at work to be bad, but I assume if it had been on a case, Lee would have killed someone so… Did you ever talk to someone about it?"
"No, I was too ashamed and there was all this other stuff going on, and Lee was already mad at me because I'd ended up in jail and…" she spread her hands and let her voice drift off.
"Byron Jordan? Good God, you didn't actually kill him, did you?"
"No, of course not." It was good to hear the slightest tremor of a laugh in Amanda's voice but it wasn't good enough when she was still sitting there shaking like a leaf.
"Do you want to tell me about it? It'll help – and I won't tell anyone else. Trust me, it's happened to all of us."
"Not like this it hasn't," said Amanda shaking her head. She took a deep breath and then paused for so long that Francine began to wonder if she was going to talk after all. "Do you remember when I went to Munich on that courier run and ended up being arrested for counterfeiting?"
"Who could forget? You're the only person in Agency history who brought down a crime ring just by going to deliver an envelope. Classic Amanda." This was accompanied by an encouraging smile and it did seem to calm her a little.
"Well, the thing is, I met someone there, just by accident, and we hit off, so we had dinner a few times and then one night, we had way too much wine at dinner and the next thing I know, I'm almost unconscious in a hotel room." Amanda stopped, not quite sure how to finish the story.
"Did he rape you?" asked Francine matter-of-factly. It seemed like keeping it as much like a regular debrief as possible would make it easier to get a straight answer.
"It was a she," said Amanda in a small voice and then found herself saying the one thing she'd never said out loud, not even to herself. "But yes, she did."
She looked up and met Francine's wide-eyed gaze. The shock she could see there brought back all the nausea of that night she'd stumbled out of Leslie's hotel room in Munich. Her entire body began to react, adrenaline and panic beginning to bubble up as the memories flooded back, overcoming the lies she'd told herself ever since that night – that it hadn't gotten any further than groping, that she'd woken up in time, that she'd fought back and stopped it in time… She could hear her own breath starting to come in gasps and worked to get a deep breath, to try and steady herself, to shove all that panic back into the box where she'd stuffed it for months along with the memories. She could see Francine still trying to process what she'd just said and clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms, the pain almost distracting her enough.
"It was a she," repeated Francine, slowly. "You're right – that's different. But not any less awful," she rushed to add. "No wonder you didn't talk to anybody."
Amanda shook her head. "I couldn't tell anyone –I almost screwed up the drop the next day because of it. And then I got arrested – and that was because of her too. The whole thing was just all jumbled up in a big mess."
"She got you arrested?" asked Francine, completely confused.
"She was the one who'd used the counterfeit bills at dinner, but I didn't figure that out until much later and by then she was long gone and Lee had arrived and he was so angry that I'd gotten arrested that I couldn't tell him. And then the whole Harry thing happened and it seemed too late and then we got sent to London and I got accused of being Lord Bromfield's mistress and that almost screwed up another mission and by the time I got home, well really, who was I going to tell? And what difference would it have made?" Amanda finally ran out of breath, her dark eyes staring out into space through a sheen of tears.
"I wish you'd felt like you could tell me, but I guess back in those days, probably not, hmm?"
Amanda gave out a bitter laugh. "Do you remember Station One and how I could never do anything right that week?"
"Except catch the bad guys? Yeah, I remember."
"One of the reasons I didn't want to be around you was because that was right after it happened and you were wearing the same perfume as her – I had a panic attack every time you came close to me."
"Oh my God." Francine stared at her through narrowed eyes. "No wonder you were so nervous after I jumped you the first day."
"Yeah, it was pretty much downhill from there," agreed Amanda. She was already looking calmer, Francine thought. Talking about it was helping, but she couldn't believe Amanda had kept this bottled inside all this time.
"But you never went to talk to any of the Agency shrinks? Claudia Joyce would have helped you."
"I'm civilian auxiliary – it never occurred to me I could."
"Of course you could. You were on Agency business and besides, it affected your work."
"Too late now," shrugged Amanda. "I got over it."
"Did you? Doesn't look like it from here," said Francine as calmly as she could even though she was itching to shake some sense into her.
"Well, I thought I had, until I saw her again," said Amanda unthinkingly.
"What the hell?"
"She showed up in Washington last fall." Amanda paused, wondering if she should mention Leslie's connection to Lee and just as quickly abandoned that idea. "We met unexpectedly, she sort of threatened me to keep quiet about it and then she disappeared again." She stopped to think about that – Leslie really had appeared and disappeared very quickly in Lee's life. Much more quickly than he usually got rid of girlfriends, she thought, especially ones he was interested enough in to buy a dress for. A dress that looked like mine. Maybe he'd seen her true colors in some way? She couldn't have told him anything – he was still her friend and he wouldn't be if he knew the truth. A truth she'd just blurted out to the last person on earth she thought she'd ever tell.
"You should talk to someone," Francine was repeating. "Other than me," she forestalled the obvious interruption. "You should talk to someone who knows how to deal with this kind of stuff." She looked at Amanda speculatively. "And you should talk to Lee about it. I assume you haven't?"
Amanda's eyes widened with panic. "What? No! Why would I do that?"
"Because he's your friend," Francine began listing off the reasons. "Because you're his. Because it's obviously still bothering you in a way that might have an impact on the way you work together and as your partner, he has the right to know about stuff like that." She paused and studied Amanda. "Because if it's affected you this much, it must affect your relationship. If you haven't dealt with it, how do you not let it affect you when you're with him?"
"What do you mean?" Amanda looked honestly puzzled.
"Do I really have to spell it out?" asked Francine throwing up her hands in exasperation. "You were raped, Amanda! How does that not seep into any physical relationship you're having with Lee?"
"What?!" Amanda had shot to her feet again and to Francine's surprise, she looked somewhere between shocked and horrified. "Lee and I are not in any kind of relationship, physical or otherwise!"
Francine actually felt her jaw drop. "You aren't?"
"Why would you think that?" Amanda had gone back to pacing. "What have I ever done that would make you think that? Or do you think everyone just falls into bed with him like-"
"Like I did?" asked Francine, raising a brow.
It didn't seem possible for Amanda to look more flustered, but somehow she did. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to sound like an accusation."
"It was a fair comment," said Francine with a shrug. "We were both in a bad place – it just sort of happened and we managed to stay friends. But that's neither here nor there, so come on, sit down. You're making me dizzy." She waited for Amanda to lower herself back into the chair, where she sat wringing her hands. Francine found that weirdly fascinating – she'd never seen anyone do that before in real life. "It's not such a weird thing for anyone to think, you know. Since Andy was killed, you're the only person he's allowed to get really close to him. The two of them were always joined at the hip like you two are. Not that anyone thought they were sleeping together of course," she added hurriedly as Amanda's eyes went wide. "But you know, Lee and a woman – people are always going to assume… but you two really aren't…?"
"No!" exclaimed Amanda, shaking her head mentally that Francine really had never truly understood Lee's previous partnership. "We're really not. We're just friends, that's all. I'm not his type. He likes –" Her voice stumbled as she just stopped herself from saying tall, dark and handsome. "Well, you know what he likes - socialites and party girls who aren't looking for anything long term – not women like me with a mortgage and kids."
"Is he your type? I mean, if he asked…" queried Francine shrewdly, seeing the way Amanda was reacting.
Amanda gave a choked off laugh, "If he hasn't asked by now, he's never gonna ask." She looked up and met Francine's eyes. "What does it matter anyway? The point is, we're not involved." She paused, a sudden look of horror on her face. "Oh my gosh – do people think we are? At the Agency? Do other people think I'm sleeping with Lee?"
Francine looked at her in astonishment. "It's Lee Stetson. You're a woman who spends more time with him than anyone else on the planet – of course people think that. Hell, I've been teasing you about being cozy with Lee for months! It's why I was bugging you so bad when you couldn't go to that tennis thing and have some time alone!"
"Oh my gosh." Amanda dropped her face in her hands. "I thought you were just being you!"
"Amanda… Amanda!" Francine was frustrated by her inability to move out of the bed and had to settle for yelling until Amanda finally looked up, eyes even more red-rimmed than when she'd walked in. She looked like she was about to cry again. "Amanda, it doesn't matter what people think – they've probably thought it for years and it's never mattered."
"But it's not true!" Amanda wailed. "And it does matter! People I work with every day think I'm only working there because I'm sleeping with Lee!"
"Now hold on – I never said that," said Francine. "Everybody knows you do good work – you and Lee together do good work. It's just easy to assume that a good working relationship with Lee leads to -"
"Sleeping together," Amanda finished. "I can't believe I didn't see it." Her head shot up. "Does Billy think that?"
Francine gave the question some consideration. "No, actually, I don't think he does. I always put that down to him being a bit paternal where you two are concerned, but I should have known better. He understands Lee in a way the rest of us don't."
"Okay, good," Amanda sighed with relief. She wiped her eyes and stared at the ceiling, obviously still trying not to cry.
There was a long silence while Francine debated what to say. "Amanda, I don't think Billy would mind if you were involved. I mean, it's pretty obvious you make Lee happy."
"Well he's my friend," said Amanda. "We have a good time together most of the time."
"No," said Francine more firmly. "You make him happy."
"Oh," said Amanda faintly, before shaking herself and going on more vehemently. "That's just because I'm his friend – he just doesn't have many of those, that's all."
Francine shook her head in disbelief. She just hoped she remembered all of this later when the drugs wore off because she was going to have to have a hell of a talk with Lee – but not about the biggest elephant in the room. That had to be up to Amanda.
"He doesn't have many friends because he chooses not to – but he chose you and I still think you should talk to him about what happened," she said finally. "Partners – no matter what kind – shouldn't have secrets."
That did make Amanda laugh. "Seriously? You think I need to share secrets with the world record holder for never sharing anything personal? What would that accomplish?"
"Does it make a difference when he does share things with you?" She could see from the expression on Amanda's face that she'd scored a point. "Well, there you go then. Now I don't mean you should rush off now with no sleep and blurt it all out. But you should tell him in your own time. Maybe talk to Claudia first. We can go together – I'm going to have to do the usual psych evaluation after a serious injury – you can tag along, make it look like you're just keeping me company."
"I could?" Amanda looked faintly surprised that she'd do that.
"I'm going to insist on it," answered Francine. She observed Amanda narrowly. "In fact, I think Billy will probably insist on it too, given what you've gone through in the last twenty-four hours. And if something else happens to come up in your session..." she shrugged, "Well nobody but you and Claudia need to know that, do they?"
"Thank you," Amanda whispered.
"You're welcome. Now have some chocolate – it'll make you feel better." She held out the DeVaronna box until Amanda smiled and took one.
"These were supposed to be for you," she scolded.
"I can't eat too many until I'm off these crutches," replied Francine. "You're helping me out."
"Hey Beautiful, how ya doing?" They both jumped at the sudden voice from the doorway. Lee was walking in with a large flower arrangement which kept him from seeing Amanda right away. "I guess I'm not the first person to think of this, huh?" He put the vase down among the others and turned around, a small frown settling on his face when he saw his partner. "Amanda, what are you doing here? I thought you'd gone home."
Amanda exchanged a quick look with Francine. "Nice to see you too, Lee," she said, trying to keep her tone light.
The frown shifted to become a slight scowl. "Don't give me that. You promised me and Billy you were going to get some rest."
Amanda hunched her shoulders defensively. "I'm fine. I wanted to see Francine and now I'm going home."
"You were supposed to go home three hours ago," Lee started to argue before Francine interrupted him.
"Mom! Dad! Can you guys please take this argument somewhere else? Amanda might not want to sleep but I do. I mean, thank you for the flowers, but how about you go make sure your partner gets home alright and you can come back and visit me later?" She stared at Lee steadily, willing him not to argue. He looked back at her, confused until her eyes flicked to Amanda, and he followed her gaze and really looked at his partner, taking in the drawn face and the sunken eyes. He looked back at Francine who nodded toward the door.
"Okay," he capitulated immediately. "You're right – I should have remembered you'd be too tired for so many visitors. Gotta leave you some energy for when Beaman drops by," he teased.
"Ha ha. You're so funny," smirked Francine.
Amanda had stood up and was swaying slightly. "I should get home. I'll see you tomorrow, Francine." She walked to the door and paused there, looking back. "Thank you – for everything."
Francine waved her off, waiting until the door had closed behind her to turn to Lee and say, "Go follow her home – she's too tired to be driving and she probably hasn't eaten either."
"Yeah, you're right. I'll drop back later, okay?" he answered.
"No, you're going to go home and sleep too," ordered Francine. "I bet you didn't sleep last night either, did you? In fact – ask Amanda if you can stay at her place. Pretend you're too tired to drive or something. She's freaked out but won't admit it and her family is still away until tomorrow."
Lee glanced at the door then back to his friend. "Really?" he said uncertainly. "She seems fine."
"Stetson, don't be an idiot. Now go look after your partner and don't come back until you've had a good night's sleep."
"Okay." He leaned over the bed and hugged her gently, kissing her forehead. "I'm really glad you're okay."
"Thank you. Now shoo – she's getting a head start on you!"
She watched as Lee hurried out of the room after Amanda and leaned back into the pillow with a sigh. "They're seriously not sleeping together," she told the ceiling tiles. "Un-frickin-believable."