Disclaimers: The characters in this story are copyrighted by Warner Brothers and Shoot The Moon Productions. I make no money from these characters; I simply like to share their world for a short time.
A/N Just a little look into Lee and Amanda's thoughts after that first kiss in the Q Bureau. A prequel (of sorts) to THE THING. Hope you enjoy! (Constructive reviews are always welcome.) A special thanks to Bruce Boxleitner and Kate Jackson—as well as the rest of the cast—for portraying these characters so wonderfully.
At 4247 Maplewood . . .
She let out a long sigh as she lay back against her pillows. It had been an incredible day. Boy, was that ever an understatement!
After wrapping up the Martinet case, they had headed back to the Q Bureau to catch up on their paperwork, or so she had thought. Lee had other things on his mind; the same things that had been on her mind for a long, long time. She was sure they had been on his mind for a long time, too, but he had always hesitated, had always withdrawn, had always been interrupted. "No, not this time," he had said as he threw the lock on the Film Library's door. No interruptions. No long hesitations. It was time. His eyes had asked her for permission, which she had readily given. And then they had kissed.
It's not like they hadn't kissed plenty of times before. But most of those had been to maintain their cover. There were, of course, a few chaste pecks on the lips the past few months. Nothing could have prepared her for the jolt of electricity that shot through her body at this kiss, however. It was as if she were on fire. She was certain he felt it, too.
They had both promptly ditched work for the day and headed out for a leisurely lunch followed by a stroll in Rock Creek Park. "The hell with the paperwork; Billy can just wait till tomorrow for the written report," Lee had emphatically stated.
It was only when she realized that the boys would be home in another half hour that they reluctantly parted company—but not until after a few more of those searing kisses!
The rest of her afternoon and evening had been taken up by dinner with her family, homework with the boys, and her mother's rambles about her new gentleman friend.
Now that she was alone in her bedroom, she finally had time for her brain to process the events of earlier in the day. She wasn't so sure, though, that she wanted to give it a whole lot of thought. Maybe it was time for her heart to do the thinking, so to speak?
But that was a big part of the problem; her heart had been dormant for way too long. The last few years of her marriage to Joe had been spent living apart, and both their hearts had grown cold over that time. Dean, it was sad to say, had never even begun to warm it. Did she even remember what a warm heart felt like anymore?
After that chance meeting at the train station almost three years ago, she figured she would never see Lee Stetson again. But as time went on, they had become closer and closer-first as partners, then as friends. And now?
He certainly was different from Joe and Dean. He was tall with sandy-colored hair and the most beautiful green eyes she had ever seen. Ok, so those were the physical differences.
Joe's job had recently turned dangerous, but that certainly wasn't the norm. And there was nothing even a little bit dangerous about being a TV weatherman—except for the occasional scathing letter or phone call from an irate listener when the forecast was wrong. Lee's job was fraught with danger, as she had learned first-hand over the course of the last few years.
It was more than that, though. He was totally different in so many ways. In fact, he had two different personalities. No, that wasn't a bad thing—no psychiatrist needed. It's just that Lee was totally different from Scarecrow. While she enjoyed being with Scarecrow and even had a small case of hero worship, she had fallen for Lee. Lee was chivalrous, caring, vulnerable, loyal, sincere, funny, . . . she could go on and on. In short, he was the complete package. Add in Scarecrow, and the word perfect just about summed it up. Maybe everyone didn't see that perfection, but she did. Or was it that he was just perfect for her?
And he had certainly begun to warm her heart. Wait . . . he hadn't begun to warm it; he had turned it into a raging inferno.
Is this what the future held with Lee? She didn't have any doubts. She hadn't felt like this in . . . well . . . her entire life.
Now that he was in her life, she really couldn't begin to understand how she had survived without him.
Although she was tired, sleep just wouldn't come. There were too many thoughts of her handsome spy running through her head—and her heart. She decided to go down to the kitchen for a glass of warm milk. Maybe that would help her sleep.
Meanwhile at Lee's apartment . . .
He leaned back into the sofa and put his feet up on the coffee table. There was a glass of scotch in his hand. As he lifted the glass to his lips, he gave a little sigh.
Wow . . . what a day it had been! In his mind, it had been the best day of his life, as he had finally succeeded in kissing—really kissing—Amanda King. There was no way on earth that Billy, or anyone else for that matter, was going to stop him. He had spent too many days cursing fate for intervening; this time he had taken fate into his own hands—and Amanda into his arms.
They had spent the rest of the day in each other's company simply talking and walking hand-in-hand. Oh, there were a few more of those kisses, too.
But all too soon it had been time for her to return to her mother and her boys. He understood; really, he did! That didn't mean he had to like it, however. He had taken his fair share of cold showers in the past few months. He had the distinct feeling they were going to seem like tropical rain showers compared to what he would be facing now that he had a true taste of her luscious lips.
Did she have any idea what she did to him? Or any idea of just how beautiful she was?
In her eyes, she was merely a mother of two growing boys, PTA volunteer, and agent-in-training. Oh, and his partner in this crazy business.
If only she could see it. When she walks into a room—whether it's at an embassy ball or just the bullpen—heads instinctively turn in her direction. For the men, it's her outer beauty. (He really needed to learn to curb his jealousy.) For the women, it's her inner beauty-her friendliness, compassion, caring. Although she had no reason to be, he knew she was insecure. If he wanted to be honest with himself, he was partially responsible for that insecurity. At least the Lee of old was. It wasn't all that long ago that he thought of her as only a pain-in-the-ass civilian that Billy kept shoving on him. When had he become hooked? When had she begun to reel him in?
Wait a minute . . . he sincerely doubted that she hooked him. It was more like he bit on the hook himself. Hell, he jumped into the damn boat all on his own. He couldn't resist her, nor did he want to! She was like a life preserver—thrown to him when he was drowning in his own pool.
Well, if he had to drown . . . what a way to go!
He looked at his watch—11:05 p.m. It was too late to call; he didn't want to wake her family. But sleep was proving to be extremely elusive. Maybe if he just drove by her house? Call it a security check; you could never be too careful, right?
SMK SMK SMK SMK SMK SMK SMK SMK SMK SMK SMK
Of course the 'Vette just automatically drifted to the familiar curb in Arlington. While he was here, he might as well get out and check the shadows in the back yard. He was nothing if not thorough in his goal of keeping Amanda and her family safe.
Wait, there was light coming from the kitchen window. Hoping it was Amanda, he risked a quick peek.
At the exact same moment, she looked out the window, hoping against hope that she would see those incredible hazel eyes looking back at her.
While he was much better at suppressing his surprise, a small squeak escaped her lips before she managed to recover. Fearing that her family would hear, she quickly moved to the back door, unlocking it and quietly escaping to the back yard and Lee's arms.
"Couldn't sleep, huh?" he grinned down at her.
"You should talk. Just what are you doing here? At least I was in my own kitchen in my nightgown and robe," she whispered. "It is almost midnight Stetson."
He silenced her with a kiss, thus preventing any further rambling. "I was just making sure you remembered to lock up," he whispered.
"Sure you were." He didn't fool her for one second.
"Well, that, and I was hoping to tell you how beautiful you are one more time today."
"Oh Lee, you really know now to flatter a girl, you know. But I'm anything but beautiful right now . . . no makeup, hair a mess, in an old comfy nightgown and robe . . . "
"But that's where you're wrong!" he interrupted her. "You're beautiful no matter what you're wearing—even if it's nothing." That last statement was accompanied by some eyebrow wriggling on his part and resulted in a playful slap on his chest from one of her delicate hands.
"Seriously . . . it doesn't matter to me how you're dressed or the state of your hair and makeup. Amanda, you are truly gorgeous—both outside and inside. Don't ever doubt that." This time his eyes told her just how sincere he was.
"Gosh, Sweetheart, your compliments are going to go to my head. And here I've been trying to get my head out of this little equation of ours and let my heart take over."
"And that's a bad thing?" he questioned with a grin.
"No, not at all. It's just that my heart's been cold for so long. And now it feels like it's on fire. It hasn't felt like this in such a long time. Actually, I don't think it's ever felt quite like this."
"That goes for me, too, you know. The Tinman might not have had a heart, but the Scarecrow's heart was never warm, even surrounded by all that straw. But now . . . well . . . let's just say I have a new respect for the words 'spontaneous combustion.' The poor Scarecrow didn't stand a chance; his straw went up in flames in the Q Bureau earlier today . . . as well as in the park . . .
"I appreciate the compliment, I really do. But the Scarecrow's heart isn't the one that concerns me; it's Lee's heart that I'm interested in."
"Oh, don't you worry that pretty little head—or heart—about this," he said as he placed her hand on his chest so she could feel his rapid heartbeat and the warmth radiating from within. "It's melting as we speak," he gently whispered.