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 glimpse into Lee's and Amanda's thoughts on their lives and relationship. While I've been trying to keep each "ramble" to approximately the same length in my Alphabet Soup segments, there are a few in this one that are slightly shorter. I felt the words needed to be included but just couldn't produce the usual. Hope you enjoy anyway! (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.
Dad. Her daddy had been the best. And she was the most important thing in his life! When she was little, he had frequently been a guest at her tea parties. He would cram his tall frame into the tiny children's seat at her tiny children's play table in her room. While her mother loved real tea, her daddy had managed to drink innumerable cups of her imaginary tea with nary a complaint. As she grew, he had become her retreat. When things didn't go well at school, when she was having a disagreement with one of her friends, or when she just wasn't feeling quite right, she sought out his welcoming arms. He was the best listener—especially when one of her boyfriends had caused her sorrow. When he died unexpectedly her freshman year of college, she was devastated.
Joe had never really been a dad. Sure, he was the boys' father. And, when he was around, he was more than happy to do things with Phillip and Jaime. But the problem was that he was never around. Work was always more important.
She knew that if she ever did have more children, she wanted them to have a dad, not just a father—and there was definitely a big difference.
Despite having a rough childhood, she really thought Lee would be an excellent dad. Now where had that thought come from?
Dad. Boy, that was a hard word for him to think about. He barely remembered his dad . . . and what he did remember was only bits and pieces. The way he would come into the house at the end of the day announcing "Daddy's home." The way he would pick up his mother and swing her around. The way it felt to sit on his lap and feel secure in his arms.
The Colonel had tried; he realized that now that he was older. But as a young boy, his uncle's gruff manner had been difficult to understand. After the loving arms of his father, the cold, sterile environment of Air Force bases couldn't compare. But the Colonel had done his best—unlike some of today's so-called "dads." One in particular came to mind—Joe King.
How could anyone simply abandon his children like that? He understood that Joe felt he was making the world a better place for his children. After all, that's what he himself did, wasn't it? Making the world a better place, that is. He didn't have any children, nor did he ever think he would have any. But it he ever did, rest assured they would know his loving arms and his caring words.
Hmmm . . . The thought of children didn't scare him as much as it used to. Could it be Amanda's influence?
Dance. She loved to dance. Growing up, she and her mother used to practice all the latest dance moves to Dick Clark's American Bandstand. Her dad would just watch and laugh—mostly at her mother's attempts at being a teenager again!
When she was asked to her first real dance at school, her dad had taught her the basics of slow dancing. While she wasn't Ginger Rogers, she liked to think that she was at least able to hold her own. Of course, so much of slow dancing depended on having a partner that knew how to lead. Unfortunately, many of her teenage dates didn't have a clue—which meant her toes were stepped on more often than not. The college boys weren't much better.
Joe was the first man she had dated that actually knew how to lead! That's one of the first things that had drawn her to Joe. But, alas, being able to lead on the dance floor wasn't enough on which to build a marriage.
Lee, on the other hand, knew how to lead effortlessly. From the first time they had danced together—even though she was hideously underdressed—she knew someone had taught him well. His moves were totally smooth. But it was more than that. Their bodies fit together perfectly. They were always in sync with the rhythm and with each other. Come to think of it, they were like that with their cases, too—in sync with each other . . . Like they were dancing . . . If only she could stay in his arms forever . . .
Dance. Thanks to the Colonel, he had grudgingly taken lessons at a very young age; it was expected that he would escort the daughters of various high-ranking brass to any and all base social functions. While his moves might not be great to all this new "modern" music, his ballroom skills were impeccable.
Once he had joined the agency, he found his skills on the dance floor to be quite an asset. It certainly made the nights working security detail at boring Embassy parties go faster. Not to mention it impressed the hell out of the ladies! He was quite certain his dancing skills had netted him more than a few fantastic beauties for his little black books.
Lately, though, it seemed he only wanted to dance with one particular beauty—and she wasn't in any of his black books! Someone had taught her well, too—probably her father, for he doubted Joe had ever bothered with something as frivolous as dancing.
Suddenly, he wished he could volunteer for more of those Embassy parties. They just weren't so boring anymore. It wasn't just that she could follow his lead. It was the way she fit into his arms . . . the way their bodies molded together . . . the way they were always in sync with the rhythm . . . and with each other.
Hmmm . . . How he wished he could dance with her in his arms forever.
Destiny. Some people said she was destined to be a mother—that she had "mothering" in her bones. She didn't think there was such a thing; she just found that being a good mother came naturally. Sure, it was a lot of hard work, but it was second nature to her. All the right instincts were present.
As far as people having an actual destiny . . . well . . . she didn't really believe in such things. People and events were put in your life for a reason, certainly, but what you made of your relationships with those people or what you got out of those events—that was up to you.
Had she made the most of her marriage? Well, she certainly had tried. Perhaps it was her "destiny" to end up a single mother of two growing boys. But wait . . . hadn't she just decided she didn't really believe in having a destiny?
It certainly hadn't been destined for her to become a spy, had it? Sure, she liked to read about such adventures. But to actually live them? That she had been drawn into the spy business by a certain sandy-haired, hazel-eyed spy, well that was what she had done with her meeting of that spy.
That she was destined to meet that spy—of that she was certain. Maybe she did believe in destiny after all.
Destiny. He was destined to be a spy—sorry, intelligence operative. After all, both his parents had been in the business. In fact, that was what had led them to their death, leaving little Lee Stetson to be raised by his military uncle-an uncle that had strongly voiced his objections at Lee following his parents into the family business. But then he liked to think that his uncle would have objected to any career choice, except the military, of course.
The "accident" that had killed his parents had also begun another destiny of sorts for him. After his parents, it was Dorothy, his first real love. She had died in his arms, the victim of a case gone horribly wrong. Then it was his partner; Eric had taken a bullet meant for him. It seemed like everyone he cared about ended up dead. He was destined to be alone.
And that's how he liked it. He wasn't about to mess with anyone else's destiny by getting too close to them . . . by letting himself care about them . . . by letting him feel.
All that changed, however, one morning at the train station. Destiny had kicked him in the gut by bringing Amanda King into his life. Damn her . . . she was starting to make him feel again . . . he was starting to care . . .
Hmmm . . . Was his destiny changing? Amanda certainly was a force to be reckoned with. He fervently prayed that their destinies were linked . . . forever.
Dimples. She had never given them much thought. They didn't run in her family, that was for sure. She didn't really even know anyone that had them . . . until now. And now . . . she couldn't get them out of her mind!
Dimples. The ladies all said he had the cutest ones they had ever seen. He didn't know about that, but they certainly did help him get his share of dates.
Hmmm . . . did Amanda think his dimples were cute? He certainly hoped so.
Death. Before the Agency, the only death she had ever had to deal with was her father's. While his death hadn't been easy on her or her mother, he had at least died peacefully in his sleep of a massive heart attack. The family had been devastated, but life had gone on. Time certainly did help, although there would always be a void in her life and her heart where he had been.
Death at the Agency, however, seemed to be a routine thing. Oh, not that anyone treated it as routine. It was just that it seemed to happen on a routine basis. Luckily, most times, it was the bad guys that were dying. When an agent was killed, the entire Agency mourned. The mood definitely turned somber in the bullpen and throughout the facility.
Lee's "death" had certainly left her shaken. She just couldn't believe that someone that vibrant and full of life was gone. What had happened on that case to result in his death? She could understand it better if he had died in a traffic accident or something of the sort. But for him to be killed in the line of duty . . . well . . . it just didn't seem right. He was a good agent—the best! Her heart would never be the same; it was almost as if it had stopped beating, too.
When he appeared at her back window, her heart had started to beat again. But she was so angry at him. How could he have put her through that agony?
Wait . . . instead of being angry, she should be happy. He wasn't actually dead! His real death was something she just didn't want to think about.
Death. He certainly had seen his share . . . his parents . . . Dorothy . . . Eric . . . and countless other acquaintances and agents, both friend and foe. For a while there, he had thought of himself as cursed. It seemed that anyone he cared about had died. He was afraid to care, afraid to feel. There was a time, too, that he even felt certain that his death was probable. If he had kept on his reckless path, who knows what might have happened. In fact, he had even "died" in the course of a case. Luckily, it was a short death.
Poor Amanda. She had truly thought he was dead; only Billy had known the truth. Everyone had mourned his passing, but it had impacted Amanda the hardest. Luckily she had been the one chosen to help him return from the beyond. Come to think of it, it was Billy's suggestion to use Amanda. It was Billy's suggestion that he work with Amanda in the first place. Oh, he had "recruited" her, but that was only for one case. Now it seemed that he had a partner-a partner that didn't deserve to die in this cursed line of work. And he would do anything to insure that she didn't, even if it meant his own death.
Hmmm . . . Hopefully he found the courage to tell her how he felt about her before it ever came to that!
Dodge City. Boy would she really like another crack at it. She had been practicing with Leatherneck. Even he admitted that she hadn't shot the ceiling in the last month! But would Mr. Melrose ever allow her to complete her training? She certainly hoped so.
If that was to happen, however, she needed much, much more practice. While Leatherneck was a great teacher, she enjoyed target practice with Lee more—especially when he put his arms around her to show her the correct way to stand and take aim. Maybe she could convince him to accompany her to the shooting range sometime soon. Then they could stand close; close enough for her to feel the muscles in his chest, his breath on her neck, . . .
On second thought, maybe she had better stick to having Leatherneck help her. Lee was a little bit too much of a distraction!
Dodge City. Definitely not one of his favorite parts of training, although he had to admit it was necessary for recruits to go through the exercise. Being able to quickly and accurately assess a situation and react appropriately—that's what saved the lives of both agents and civilians.
While Amanda might never pass this part of her training, or ever get the chance to try it again for that matter, he wasn't concerned. She had something better than training, something that no amount of textbooks or scenarios could teach—her instincts. He had never met someone with her innate ability to assess a situation and unerringly choose the best solution. A few years ago, he would have scoffed at the thought of having a suburban housewife as part of the Agency, but now he was proud to call her his partner.
She did need a little more—no, make that a lot more—work on the firing range, though!
Hmmm . . . He knew just the handsome, dashing agent to help with her lessons, too.