Written by Scooplet

Concept by Cheryl and Scooplet

Scarecrow and Mrs. King characters are the property of Shoot the Moon Productions and Warner Bros. Television. No copyright infringement intended. Not for commercial use. Sarah Stetson and Matt Granger are my creation, however, so please respect my right to claim ownership of them—I do not authorize permission to use them in stories not authored by me.

Note on this story: thank you for the many kind reviews and messages I have received for Part One of I Know He Watches Me. I hope the continuation of that story will be just as enjoyable for you. Thank you for your support. It is my pleasure to write these stories for you, fellow fans of Scarecrow and Mrs. King. Stay tuned for the conclusion of this story, coming soon as Part Three.

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I Know He Watches Me, Part Two

Chapter One

I sing because I'm happy,

I sing because I'm free

For His eye is on the sparrow,

And I know He watches me.

-From "His Eye is on the Sparrow" by Civilla D. Martin

March 2012

"I have a bone to pick with you, kiddo." Grace's mouth was set in a firm line. Although she was as slim as Sarah, she was a good four inches shorter. Nevertheless, she had learned over the years how to command a presence, and she seemed rather threatening now.

"Are you okay?" While Sarah had been ill more times than not when she was with Grace Tanaka over the past few weeks, this time she was worried more about Grace. Since their accident the day before, Sarah had not seen her partner. But Grace had managed to find her in a rare moment alone—waiting to speak with Dr. Kirby, the Agency psychiatrist. Kirby's receptionist was out sick for the day, so Sarah had the waiting room to herself.

With an impatient wave of her hand, Grace dismissed Sarah's concern. "I'm fine—or I will be once the swelling goes down in my knee. I guess I knocked it pretty hard against something when the truck hit us." Grace resumed her stance. "But enough about me. I'm ticked at you." Seeing her young protégé's expression, Grace's face softened. "I heard from Ryan Johnson that you kicked Jamal's butt."

Surprised, Sarah managed, "I thought that was top level clearance information."

"Not anymore—at least the security level has been lowered. A major threat has been arrested, thanks to an Agency freshman. Francine was singing your praises at the staff meeting this morning. It's not national news, but it's news around here." Grace shifted uncomfortably, reminding Sarah that her friend had her own bone to pick with Jamal. "Thanks to you, Jamal is hurting where it counts. You got the jerk back for having his thugs slam their truck into us."

"Yeah, well, it was the only move I could make, since he had my hands bound."

Grace sat down next to Sarah. "So, you knew what was happening all along. You didn't bother to tell me—even when you left me in that car. There were thugs chasing you." She paused and whispered, "Is the baby okay?"

Chagrined, Sarah had trouble meeting Grace's gaze. "Yes, we're fine… And I couldn't tell you. I don't even know what clearance they gave our assignment. Something I had never heard of before."

"Jamal never showed up here."

"You aren't supposed to know he was involved."

"That part was obvious."

"And I really can't talk about it. We had a meeting this morning, and Gil Barclay himself told me I have to keep my lips zipped."

"I heard you got a few good licks in." Grace reached over and pushed the hair away from Sarah's forehead. "It looks like you got a couple, too."

"That might have been the thugs. Trust me, the other guy has it worse."

"But he never made it to the ambulance. The paramedics complained that the NSA people took him away while they were trying to treat him."

"I really can't talk about it Grace." Sarah looked up and was grateful to see her husband emerging from Kirby's office. Now she had an excuse to end the conversation.

"Oh, well. I tried." Grace greeted Matt with a small wave and left the waiting room, a noticeable limp to her gait.

"Kirby told me to tell you to go straight in. He wants to meet with both of us after you're done."

"Oh. Richard Wong is going to have a fit."

"He's not going to be looking for you until after the class returns from paintball at two. That gives us time to eat a long lunch together."

Sarah grinned up at her husband. "I guess that's supposed to be an invitation to lunch."

Matt's smile was crooked. "This has been a hard week so far. I thought it would be good to get away from here alone, even if it's only for a couple of hours."

Sarah nodded and squeezed Matt's hand before turning to go into Kirby's office. He watched her go and then found a chair. Leaning back, he closed his eyes, his mind still on Sarah.

He had trouble putting a label on the emotions his wife had displayed when he had found her. She had been as relieved as he was, perhaps more so. She had told him that she had been terrified until the moment she had recognized him and realized she was finally safe. And she appeared to be telling the truth about Jamal. Sarah had none of the symptoms that rape victims might display. He breathed a prayer of thanks. But she had been traumatized. When he had turned out the bedside lamp that night and crawled into bed, Sarah had been tense, trembling even.

Hoping to calm her, Matt smoothed Sarah's hair. She smelled of roses once again. Despite her fatigue, she had insisted on showering before they climbed into bed. Matt wondered if she had been eager to get rid of Jamal's scent, too. He did not want to think about why the man's heavy cologne had clung to his wife's clothing and hair.

Kirby insisted they talk about that and other things in their session. He just wanted to forget about everything.

The trembling was a reaction to the darkness of the room. It was too soon since Sarah's frightening experience wearing the hood and hiding in the blackness of the subterranean passageway. Matt turned the lamp back on, leaving it on low as he took Sarah in his arms. Fighting his own drowsiness, he waited for the tension to leave her body. Running his hands over her back, he hoped to soothe her. As he closed his eyes briefly with a silent prayer, he moved to kiss her forehead. That gesture was the trigger. Tears tracked down Sarah's face, and Matt felt a wave of relief. He knew it would help Sarah to cry—it had worked in the past. But there was no sound, none of the sobbing Matt had heard from her before. Several tissues and about a half an hour later, Sarah finally drifted off to sleep. Exhausted, Matt had not been far behind.

In the morning, Matt had expected Sarah to mention the tears, but she was cheerful. He had brought her the usual tea and toast, and she had felt well enough to drink a protein shake. The ride to work had been uneventful and Sarah had seemed in reasonably good spirits at the meeting.

He worried she was bottling up her feelings. That can't be good for the baby, he mused. Maybe Kirby will get her to open up. Matt felt a pang of hurt at the thought. He had hoped that Sarah would open up to him first. She always had in the past, and now that they were married, he certainly expected her to now.

He realized he must have drifted off when Dr. Kirby's voice roused Matt. "Agent Granger, why don't you join us now?"

Glancing up, Matt saw the psychiatrist standing in the doorway of his office, a smile on his face. Matt guessed that Sarah had not opened up after all. He stood and followed Kirby into his office, where Matt found Sarah seated on the couch, smiling up at him. She patted the spot next to her and he sat there.

"Well, I think you'll be pleased to hear that Sarah is not showing any signs of PTSD or anything other than a normal response at this time."

Bemused, Matt queried, "What do you consider a normal response?"

"Sarah described how it was difficult to get to sleep last night. It was good for her to release her anxiety by crying."

"Should I be helping Sarah in any way? What if she has a reaction later?" Remembering how Sarah had reacted to the blood when he had gone hunting with his father, Matt was concerned. During that November visit to Texas, he had already recovered physically from the knife fight that had traumatized her, but he had been forced to realize she had not recovered emotionally. He had trouble believing that Sarah was not enduring some kind of trauma from her experience with Jamal.

"Matt, I was angry at the suspect." They could not use Jamal's name with Kirby in the room.

"He hit you with a belt." Matt's voice was pained. "There was a hood on your head."

"But it didn't hurt as much as he thought it did."

"But Sarah, you have bruises."

"I was in a fight with a man who was bigger than me. I may have been angry about him hurting me at first, but I was really glad to give him a few licks. I've actually felt a little guilty about it today."

Dr. Kirby interjected, "Sarah, we discussed that…"

"Oh, I know. I just was explaining to Matt. I felt like I shouldn't have taken my anger out on the suspect." Sarah turned to Dr. Kirby. "But it helped keep me from bottling up my frustrations."

"Unless I hear from your superiors, I won't counsel you on the degree of force you have to use on assailants. I'm just here to help you deal with any feelings you have afterwards." Kirby turned to Matt. "Chief Beaman said there were no issues with Sarah's conduct."

Matt bristled a little at Kirby's choice of words, but kept his feelings to himself. "So what you're saying is that Sarah kicked the heck out of the guy, got the trauma out of her system, and is just fine now?"

"Well, there was the fear of being caught. But we worked through that. Sarah will see me again a few more times. It's a good idea if she is going to be in the field. Agents have to cope with those feelings quite often, and the stress can be harmful."

"But the man did something to Sarah, even if he did not assault her. This was not just the fear of being caught."

It was Sarah's turn to interject. "Matt, he held me up against his body. I told you that. He said things and acted like he intended to assault me at some point, but he didn't. Just when he thought he finally had me where he wanted me, I kneed him, and then used my heel to kick him. And I purposefully put myself in that position so I could make him hurt."

"It was a big risk." Matt passed a hand over his eyes, trying to remove the images in his head.

Kirby shifted in his seat. "Sarah's symptoms last night were probably a result of the stress she endured after fleeing her assailant. But I feel confident she can work through them." He leaned forward and peered at Matt. "I am concerned about you as well, Mr. Granger."

Matt glanced back and forth between Kirby and Sarah. His posture was rigid and defensive. "How so?"

"You have a past history of stress after a situation where Sarah's life was endangered. You've demonstrated signs today of that same stress recurring. It's a common issue and one I feel we can work through—as we've done before."

Sighing, Matt asked, "How many sessions?"

"Our goal is to help you cope with having your wife in the field."

"She's going to be in Analysis."

"Not according to her profile."

Sarah placed her hand on Matt's arm. "I overheard Francine tell you that she was giving you a lighter load for a couple of weeks. She's supposed to talk to Wong about letting me take a weekend off. You've had a lot on your plate."

"That's true, but so have you. We could use a weekend off. We could use the rest of this week off."

Kirby broke into their discussion. "Mr. Granger, I'd like to see you a few more times."

Doing his best not to roll his eyes, Matt persisted. "For how long?"

"For as long as it takes. For now, let's schedule a couple of appointments."

"Well, thanks for that." Matt stood and held out his hand to Sarah to help her up. "I guess our time is up. I have a lunch date with Sarah and I'd like to make the most of it."

"Let's just look at my calendar first."

Realizing that he had no choice but to schedule the sessions, Matt followed Dr. Kirby to the computer at the reception desk.

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Later that night in their bed, Matt lay on his back, willing himself to sleep. Curled up against his side, Sarah breathed softly. She had been sound asleep for perhaps an hour. The warmth of her body next to his and her closeness were comforting. From the first night of their marriage they both had been able to sleep like this—until now. Despite the fear of the night before, Sarah had not needed the lights on tonight. She had drifted off just a minute or two after her head hit the pillow.

Imagining her exhaustion was probably due to the pregnancy, stress, and having so much on her plate, Matt felt helpless. It was no wonder he was tense. Early the next morning Sarah was scheduled for an examination with the obstetrician. Despite his concern for Sarah's health, he could not resist the glimmer of excitement as he anticipated discussing their baby with Sarah's doctor. Immediately following that thrill of excitement came a frisson of tension once again. What if Jamal had somehow endangered their baby? Matt knew that the man had not hurt his wife, but it had been such a huge risk.

Unable to shake the images in his mind, Matt could not sleep. He imagined Jamal touching Sarah, even kissing her, before she could place her knee in his groin. How would he be able to touch or kiss his wife in their bed without those images coming back to him? And what might have happened to Sarah if she had not been able to disable Jamal? The man certainly had planned to kill her. Ryan had found a knife hidden under the man's pant leg. Perhaps he would have used that. With the real possibility of Sarah becoming a field agent, Matt imagined that a scenario like the one from the other night could happen again.

While Matt had been inwardly frustrated, angry even, that he was forced to visit Dr. Kirby again, he now realized that the man was right. In fact, he was grateful. It helped to pray through the feelings, but Matt needed to talk to someone, too. It was difficult to talk with Pastor Carlson because he could never be specific or even give the man a hint that he worked as an operative.

Besides, Dr. Kirby knew what it had been like for Matt in Afghanistan. Few people at the Agency did. While Dr. Kirby had not seen action there, he had heard Matt's stories and had his own experiences from the first Gulf war. Those who had not seen a battle or street violence could comprehend what it was like to live in ongoing fear of losing one's comrades. That was why Matt had not made many friends. But Sarah was more than a friend. Now Matt faced the possibility of losing his wife.

Wound up so tightly he could not even relax, Matt knew he could not stay this way until he spoke with Kirby again. It would be two more days until his next appointment. Friday—they would go into the Agency that morning, and in the afternoon drive up to Pennsylvania to a small ski resort. It would not have the skiing they had enjoyed in Colorado, but he had read that downhill skiing was not recommended for pregnant women. They could spend a little time on the easy slopes and do some hiking. And there would be no Jamal to worry about.

Tomorrow and the next day Richard Wong had requested that Matt join Sarah's class and help them with their urban assault skills. He had admitted that they were sorely lacking in team unity and that he was not nearly as experienced with that form of warfare as Matt was. While he had been in Afghanistan to venture out on intelligence missions, he been involved in gun battles in a few rural villages and he had trained extensively with his unit on urban assault. Wong was anxious to have his input and help. The Agency's freshman class was up against a team from NSA at Fort Knox in a month, and Wong intended for his team to win.

Perhaps it was the exhaustion left over from the day before, or just that his thoughts had drifted, but Matt finally found his eyelids drooping. At last he fell asleep.

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Despite Matt's upbeat mood as they arrived at the doctor's office, Sarah had sensed an underlying tension in her husband. She hoped that he could work things out with the Agency's therapist. Part of that tension may have been concern for the baby after all that Sarah had gone through on Monday. But that tension evaporated during her examination.

As Dr. Elliott listened to Sarah's lungs and heart, she chatted with them. "I'm sure it's a bit nerve-wracking, waiting for the preliminary results on the blood work. But we like to be sure that the pregnancy is progressing nicely before we decide what type of an examination we will give baby and mama."

Sarah had taken to Dr. Elliott's bedside manner. The obstetrician was nearly old enough to be a grandmother herself, and had relayed to them at the beginning of the appointment that she had given birth to three children of her own. Sarah had not failed to see Matt smile at the use of the word "mama." He seemed to like her doctor, too.

"We still have a few additional tests to run, but the ones we needed for today show that your pregnancy is progressing normally, Sarah." Dr. Elliott glanced at Matt as she asked, "So, I take it this was all a surprise. I see in the chart that I prescribed birth control pills for Sarah not long ago." While her expression was open, it was obvious to Sarah that the physician was gauging Matt's response and hers.

Blushing, Sarah replied, "Um, yes. We were going to wait a couple of years. This is my fault. I was stressed at work and I didn't take all of my pills when I was supposed to."

Matt stepped closer to Sarah, who was sitting in nothing but a hospital gown, feeling vulnerable, on the edge of the examination table. He placed an arm around her shoulders. "I could have reminded you. But we both wanted to have kids at some point. I guess God has his own timing."

Dr. Elliott smiled knowingly. "Well, babies often have a way of showing up on a different schedule than ours."

Relaxing a little, Sarah offered, "I'm sure you've seen that a lot. My mom told me I was three weeks early."

"That can happen. But I always tell my patients that just because their mother delivered them early, late, or on-time does not mean they will deliver early, late, or on-time. We'll figure out a due date, but I'd like to look for a heartbeat first."

Matt stepped out of the way as Sarah lay back on the table. Soon a there was vague, hazy image on the screen. Dr. Elliott played with the controls. "There we are." She pointed to the screen briefly, and then took measurements. "Your baby is five millimeters long. And there—" Sarah detected a slight note of excitement in the woman's voice as she pointed to the screen. "See that fluttering? That's your baby's heart beating."

"Oh!" Unable to articulate the emotions overwhelming her, Sarah glanced up at Matt at the same time his eyes went to hers. He gripped her shoulder and smiled, his eyes shining.

Soon they were discussing menstrual cycles and dates, the doctor determining that Sarah's due date was October 25. "Because the baby is already at five millimeters, there is a possibility you could be a little further along, but we'll keep checking your progress. Some babies are just longer than others."

Sitting once again on the edge of the examining table, Sarah wrapped the gown more tightly around her as she ventured, "Uh, I was wondering, Dr. Elliott. I did take some of the birth control pills after our baby was conceived. I didn't realize I might be pregnant. Do you think that will have hurt her—or him?"

"It's not likely, given your baby's fetal development. Your baby seems to be doing very well."

About twenty minutes later, Sarah and Matt were walking to the Volvo, their coats wrapped snugly around them as they bent into the wind from the most recent winter storm. Normally, Sarah would be wishing for spring on a day like that, but her mind was elsewhere. They did not say anything until they were inside the car.

"Can you believe that little tiny heart was beating? Our baby's heart?" Sarah detected the note of awe in Matt's voice.

She sighed in response, a happy smile on her face. "It's pretty amazing. I like the doctor. She really made me feel comfortable with everything."

"I was just glad that she said both you and baby are doing well."

He reached for her hand, but Sarah leaned over the console to hug Matt instead. He hugged her back.

"I love you, Matt." Her eyes were shining as she grinned. "You're going to be a daddy." Sarah sat back in her seat and placed her hand on her abdomen. "You already are one."

He leaned over to kiss her, caressing her cheek as he pulled away. "Are you going to mind waiting to tell people about the baby? My mom suggested that we wait until about ten weeks—that's almost a month away."

"Well, our parents know, and our partners know." She frowned. "I guess we can expect spies to figure things like that out, especially since I was not able to hide the symptoms from Grace and I opened my big mouth in front of Rene."

"Now, Sarah," Matt remonstrated. "It's probably good if they know. Rene knows the ropes and Grace will understand if you are working with her again."

"Dr. Elliott said we should notify the Agency—well, my work—soon. She's pretty concerned about me becoming a high-risk pregnancy if I continue with the physical regimen Richard has us working. But I'm afraid of how Richard Wong will react."

"We can't wait too long to tell them. You and I both know you can't take another assignment like the one with Jamal." Matt breathed a prayer of thanks that the hand-to-hand training had ended.

Sarah looked sharply at Matt. She agreed that stressful assignments were a risk to their baby—and she had reservations about either one of them taking dangerous assignments if they had children. Not only that, but the hand-to-hand combat she had practiced in her training had been a risk, too. However, there was more to her husband's tone. "I think we agree about field work and being parents. But there's something else on your mind."

They were on the road now, and Matt kept his eyes fixed on the cars ahead of them, hesitating before he answered. "I've just had a lot going through my head. I have to admit I'm glad I have an appointment with Kirby on Friday. I can't get these images out of my head—you and Jamal, what he tried to do…"

Placing her hand on Matt's shoulder, Sarah's voice was firm. "You read the report. Everything is in there. Yes, the man kissed me on the neck. And it was gross. Disgusting. He was hoping for something, and I did not let him get it. He never even got a button undone. He never had a chance to touch more than my arm—and he was too busy hanging onto me to do anything else."

"I know. I know." Matt glanced out the side window of the car and schooled his features as he tried to reign in his emotions. "I'm letting my imagination get away from me."

"I know it's hard, but you have to think of other things. We'll have a good weekend away, and that will help."

"You don't mind if we don't ski? I think we should follow Dr. Elliott's advice."

"I was kind of thinking it might not be a great idea. Some doctors say it's okay, but we can have fun doing other things." She smiled, assuming Matt would understand her hidden meaning.

Matt tried to return her smile, but his heart was not in it. He needed to talk things out with Kirby.

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"But we were so looking forward to you joining us at Phillip's house this weekend. He was reaching out, sweetheart."

Amanda noted the hesitation on Sarah's end of the call. Perhaps she was not ready to forgive Phillip's hurtful actions weeks ago. Now that Jamal had been caught, Phillip had acted as if nothing had ever happened. It was like a switch being flipped. She could understand Sarah's reluctance to jump back into things.

"At least come for an hour to see the kids."

"Mom, I would love to see the kids, but we booked a condo in the Poconos. We need to get away."

"Couldn't you postpone your trip?"

"Matt has been wanting us to get away more often. We've only gone to the cabin just the one time since the honeymoon. Besides, Richard Wong has me scheduled to work in the bullpen next Saturday in return for letting us leave before noon on Friday. We get the entire weekend, Mom."

"I shouldn't pressure you. I just miss having the family get together."

"I guess it would be out of the question for the family to postpone. I'll be off on Sunday that weekend."

"Well, you know how Jennifer and Amy plan things…"

Sarah did know. It was reasonable to expect her sisters-in-law to have plans. But she wished that they might work their schedules around her for a change. While she had not babysat in months, Sarah had put in her share of weekend nights over the years caring for either her nephews, her niece, or all three of them together. She had rearranged her teaching schedule a few times while studying for her Master's just so she could be available for birthday parties. Yes, one of them had been her own, but the party had been scheduled at others' convenience.

She supposed that was her fault. At some point Sarah had given Amy and Jennifer the impression that she was happy to make the changes to her schedule when she had begun participating regularly in family gatherings after graduating from college and returning to D.C. As for the other inconveniences—usually on weekends—Sarah had to admit that giving up a college party in order to help her family and spend time with her niece and nephews was a worthwhile cause.

But she was married now, and Matt needed to come first. "I'm sorry Mom. We're going to be out of town this weekend."

"I can ask Matt. He'll understand."

"Mother! You will not ask Matt. Please respect our plans. It's important to Matt and to me for us to get away. I don't want you to call him and make him feel guilty. Besides, you ought to know better. You would never have let me pull a stunt like that with you, Daddy, or Grandma. If one of you said no, I respected it." Her outburst over, Sarah thought she could hear her father in the background.

"Of course. It was stupid of me to suggest that. I sound like my own mother."

"I take it Daddy lectured you on that end, too."

"He started to, but you had already done a good job on your own."

"Mom, I've changed my plans around for the family many times. This time I need to stick to them."

"I hope you two have fun, sweetheart."

Sarah could detect the note of chagrin in her mother's voice. "Thanks for understanding, Mom. Please give Daddy a hug for me."

"We love you, Sarah."

"I love you both, too."

Sighing, Sarah ended the call. What had started out as a happy conversation about her pregnancy had turned into a guilt trip. That was so unlike her mother, and it had left Sarah feeling deflated. This should be a happy time. There was no monster hovering in the background anymore. Instead, there was a new life joining their family. They would not tell her brothers for another month or so, but she still felt as if someone had stuck her balloon with a pin.

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Settling into her seat, Sarah took a sip of herbal tea from her thermal mug and stared out the window. Patches of snow dotted the countryside along the interstate. She turned to Matt. The tension he had carried with him all week had lessened dramatically. After telling her briefly that the appointment with Dr. Kirby had been really helpful, they had dropped the subject, agreeing that they would not talk about Jamal all weekend. She searched for another topic of conversation.

"It's really been nice having you coach us with the assault training. Morale has been really low, and we've lost people. Now we have to include NSA recruits on our team."

"Forget that. The NSA people would throw it so their buddies can win. Rene and I will be there. I might have Johnson come along, too."

"But there's only three of you. We can have up to six people from other teams—NSA said they'd help out."

"Six people who will throw it—or at best be inexperienced. Besides, you can only have up to three non-trainees—good thing we all have less than five years' intelligence experience, too."

"True. There are so many rules." Sarah held the cup in her hands, letting the last of the warmth drift up to her face. She watched Matt as he changed lanes. "It's pretty nice of you and Rene to help us out. Rene could just stay home with Patti."

"He told me she has plans to hang out with her sister that weekend—do you realize it's only a month away? You're halfway done with your training. By the end of April—only a month after that—you'll be working in the field."

Sarah, who had been growing sleepy, placed the mug in the cup holder. "Well, only on that two-month probation. But Grace says she's looking forward to it. Supposedly we stay in D.C. for that phase." She yawned.

"Listen, it's only a couple of hours until we get there. Why don't you take a little nap?"

Tilting her seat back, Sarah assented, "I think I will. I can hardly keep my eyes open."

"Dr. Elliott said that will improve during the second trimester."

"I hope so. I get so drowsy sometimes." Sarah's words slurred a little, and after a minute, Matt glanced over and saw that she was already asleep.

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The next morning, Matt was up before Sarah, watching the birds on their condo's deck. A cup of tea waited in the microwave, and on the counter nearby, a rice cake sat on a plate. They had eaten an early dinner of pizza and salad after checking into the condo. Sometimes a dinner like that led to morning sickness the next day, and Matt wanted to be ready to head it off before it ruined Sarah's morning. He wanted to enjoy the day with her, too.

He gazed at the light as it filtered through the trees, making the ice-encrusted snow to glitter in the sunshine. Squirrels were playing a game of hide and seek among the shrubs close to the cabin, and Matt found himself chuckling at their antics until he heard water running somewhere in the condo. He walked down the hallway.

Sarah was just emerging from the bathroom as Matt came down the hall. Seeing her expression, he guided her to the bed, where she curled up on her side. After pulling up the covers, he sat down gently beside her, taking care not to disturb the bed too much. "Did you just get sick?"

Groaning a little, Sarah shifted her legs. Her voice was muffled and a little hoarse. "Just dry heaves. I was brushing my teeth, and…" Sarah's mouth formed a tight line as she appeared to battle another wave of nausea.

Matt made a mental note to avoid pizza for a while. He ran his hand tentatively along Sarah's back, hoping she would find it soothing. When she did not say anything for a moment, he kept caressing her.

After a minute she murmured, "Mmm. That feels good."

He was thinking the same thing, but he tried to concentrate on helping Sarah feel better. "Do you want a little tea?"

"Maybe in a little bit."

Matt continued the back rub for a few minutes, and then stood. "I'll be right back."

Not daring to move, Sarah merely mumbled into the pillow. "Mm hmm."

Returning with the tea and rice cake, Matt had a goal in mind. Almost every time Sarah nibbled some dry toast or a rice cake and sipped the tea, her nausea lessened. Some days she was able to eat a normal breakfast, too. He broke off a small piece of the rice cake and offered it to her.

Knowing the routine, Sarah took the morsel and slowly chewed it. Carefully she sat up in the bed and took the cup of tea, holding it under her nose so the steam would soothe her. She took a sip. They sat like that for several minutes as Sarah slowly sipped the tea and nibbled the rice cake. Finally, she spoke. "You know, you're spoiling me rotten."

"Oh, really?" Matt was incredulous. "I'm not sure I'd agree. You get the morning sickness and all the other symptoms of pregnancy. All I have to do is heat up some water and open a package."

After swallowing another bite of rice cake, Sarah continued, "Yes, really. You have had so much on your plate, yet you still think of the little things and take care of me. You're a wonderful husband." She reached out to pat his leg as Matt sat on the bed. "You are going to be a great daddy, too."

Matt did not answer right away, uncomfortable with the praise. He watched Sarah's outstretched legs and saw her toes wiggling under the covers. Reaching over, he rubbed her feet through the blankets. "You're sweet to say that. Thanks. But you know, it makes me happy to do things for you."

After taking a few more sips of tea and bites of rice cake, Sarah leaned forward to kiss Matt on the cheek. "I already feel much better." Pulling back the covers, she slid to the edge of the bed. "Let's go eat some breakfast. Now I'm starving."

Chuckling over the mercurial state of Sarah's stomach, Matt followed her out of the room.

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"So, how was the condo in the Poconos?" Lee watched Matt as the young agent took a swig of root beer. While he was nursing a glass of ale, he noted with satisfaction that his son-in-law did not drink during the workday.

Matt set the bottle down on the heavy wooden table. He glanced around the old pub, a favorite of Lee's, and identified several other members of the intelligence community at the tables and bar. Most were members of the old guard—veterans who had been serving their country for decades. A few new faces, like his, were scattered around the room. He wondered idly if the civilians had any clue how many spies surrounded them.

He thought about how Jamal, an arms dealer and terrorist, slipped in and out of public places all over the world for years. He had been in D.C., but they had only found him after placing Sarah in grave danger. The two sessions with Kirby and the weekend in the Poconos had helped Matt with his fears and stress, but the idea of another Jamal coming along was still a reality. A reality he would have to learn to accept. For now, he should enjoy living a fairly normal life once again.

Belatedly he realized he had not answered Lee's question. "Sorry, I was distracted." Matt sat up straight. "It was really nice. We hiked where the snow wasn't too deep and did a little sledding. Or rather, Sarah took a couple of slow runs and let me do most of the sledding."

"I'm surprised she was willing to stand by and not join you. She loves a little thrill—and she likes speed."

"Well, we're trying to be careful for the baby's sake." Matt sipped his root beer again. "As for speed, I guess Sarah will get that when they start the driving portion of training next week."

"Is she feeling any better?"

"Not yet. But we've got it down. It was pretty bad when we didn't know how to manage it. Now that Sarah is eating enough, she doesn't get sick as easily."

Lee waited while the waitress served them their hamburgers. As soon as she walked away, he resumed their conversation. "You folks still doing hand-to-hand? You should really tell Wong that Sarah needs a pass on that."

"We're working on the assault techniques now. Thankfully the hand-to-hand has ended for now. Sarah does some running around in the assault training, but there is no contact."

"It just seems that those stupid paint balls can't be safe—what if she gets hit in the stomach?"

"We're using the laser tag facility for now. She'll have to tell Wong if we do paint ball again. That's just too much—they run farther and the terrain is rough."

The two men were quiet as they ate their food. After a few minutes, Lee ventured, "I wish Sarah could stay out of the field. That whole thing with Jamal really makes my skin crawl. I can't tell you the number of times I've wanted to talk with Gil Barclay again about putting Sarah in Analysis like she was promised. But Francine would resent it. She's earned the right to have me stay out of her hair."

"Why isn't Francine doing anything about it? She can't stand Wong."

"Is it that obvious?" Lee chuckled. "I should probably not say this to one of her team, but she was never very good about hiding that sort of thing."

"I guess she has no say in hiring and firing?"

"She does, but she'll need a damn good reason to fire Wong." Lee grabbed a French fry and sat back in his seat. "Don't tell Amanda I got these. She always makes me order fruit or something." He smirked and bit into another fry, but soon grew thoughtful. "There might be another reason why Wong is still in place. I've been stewing on something. I can't say what exactly, but if I'm right, it could blow everything out of the water."

"I'm assuming you can't give me any details."

"Not yet. As Amanda pointed out, I have no evidence to support my suspicions."

"I just wish there was something we could do sooner than later."

"You know, none of us saw Wong becoming a tyrant. We might have brought Chen back sooner or brought Sanders down from New York. Tanaka was on the list, but she wanted to stay in the field."

Matt was grateful for a way to change the subject. "Well, I for one am glad that Grace is Sarah's partner. She's a great agent, methodical, stable, mature. She would be great as the trainer." Matt watched Lee eat a few more French fries before pushing the plate away with most of the fries still remaining on it. Matt stared down at the table and smiled to himself. Despite Lee's occasional blustering or bravado, it was obvious that he listened to his wife.

"Yeah. I see you taking that job in a few years. You just need more experience before they'll look at you."

Matt's head came up and he looked sharply at Lee. "What gives you that idea—that they'd want me for the freshmen trainer?"

"I watched you working with Sarah when you'd spar together in the backyard. I've seen you giving Rene—technically the senior agent, by the way—tips, when you thought no one was paying attention."

"It's just stuff I picked up in the Army."

"Well, it counts as experience, and you're passing it on to others." As the waitress dropped off the check, Lee reached for it. "Maybe you could go into private consulting someday. It sure pays the bills better than Uncle Sam does."

Unsure how to respond, Matt thanked Lee for the compliment. The words "private consulting" kept repeating themselves in his head as Lee paid the bill and they left the pub.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

As they sang the chorus of the last worship song in the church service, Matt glanced over at Sarah. Her eyes met his and she smiled. It felt good to have her standing beside him in church, something that did not happen as much as he would have liked since their wedding. He felt an ache when he thought of how they could be separated over weekends if she were to be assigned to another office. While it panged him to think of it, he also knew he was in denial about what to do once the baby was born.

Before his thoughts could travel very far, the song ended and church came to a close with a prayer from Pastor Carlson. Soon the congregation had gathered in the church's foyer for coffee and fellowship. Matt was bringing a cup of tea to Sarah, who was in conversation with Mrs. Schmidt, when their friend Cheryl stopped him.

"I see you're on an errand, Matt, but I was wondering if you could check my garage door opener sometime soon. It's making quite a racket and my neighbor keeps complaining."

"Sounds like it just needs a little lubricant and maybe an adjustment or two. Let me just check with Sarah, but we could probably come over this afternoon."

"Thank you, dear. That would be so very helpful."

Matt left Cheryl to talk with her friends as he made his way over to Sarah, who was alone now. He handed her the cup.

"What did Cheryl want?"

"Oh, you saw us? She needs me to check her garage door opener. Sounds like routine maintenance—stuff I used to do with Dad. I was hoping you could come along with me this afternoon."

"Of course. I'd like that."

Sarah was sipping her tea when Pastor Carlson stepped over to them. They exchanged greetings and smiled at one another. Matt was searching for something to say when the pastor spoke first.

"I was glad to see you join us for church today, Sarah. We've missed having you here every week."

"Well, I'm afraid that as the new kid at our film company, I don't get every Sunday off. I hope to eventually."

Matt was impressed at how smoothly Sarah worked their cover with their pastor. She had told him before that as long as she was not lying, she felt no guilt. And she had years of practice with two parents in the intelligence business. Still, Matt always felt a twinge of discomfort when they used their cover with someone like their pastor, the man who had counseled them on several occasions.

"What do they make you do on Sundays in the film business?"

"Mostly overtime and extra work, making sure things are covered for the next week." Sarah still was not lying. It was true that she picked up extra research for Jamie's team when she sat in the bullpen on the weekend. Jamie was taking every opportunity he could to give Sarah some kind of experience in Analysis. He had not given up on having her work for him. He figured the more work she did in Analysis, the stronger his argument to assign her there would be.

"Well, I'm glad you did not have to work this Sunday. How are you holding up with that heavy workload?"

"Pretty well, I suppose." Sarah's eyes met Matt's.

He nodded at her briefly, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Actually, we have some news. It's meant to be kept confidential—we aren't making it public just yet."

"Oh?" Pastor Carlson's eyes took on a gleam. He seemed to guess their news already.

"We're expecting." Matt's neck was pink, but he fought to keep his embarrassment in check.

The gleam in the pastor's eyes intensified to delight, but his response was hushed. "What good news." He glanced around, anxious to ensure that no curious eyes or ears were turned their direction. "And I'm glad you told me. I'll be praying for both the baby and you, Sarah." He directed his gaze to Matt. "And for Daddy. I know you both can handle being parents, but you've been through a lot of changes in the last year."

"Please pray for Sarah's health. With her hours, I worry about her."

"Of course." At the sound of his name, he looked around to see who was calling for him, and turned back to Matt and Sarah. "I do need to speak with Mr. and Mrs. Jones. Please let me know if you need anything. I'll be giving you a call soon."

Matt watched the pastor walk away as Sarah took another sip of her tea. It was reassuring to know that someone else was praying for his wife. He was not alone.