AN: I can't believe I wrote "chesterfield" in a fic

Those three people who reviewed the last entry? I love you.

/

Amanda stretched from her perch on the sofa's arm. Aside from the light trickling out the guest bathroom, the house was dimmed and empty. All visitors had long since cleared out in grim moods. In the background, she heard the rhythmic 'chh-chh' of Lee brushing his teeth.

This had grown beyond strange phone calls and disappearances. Now the police were involved and there was a corpse in a dumpster. Poor Betty...

With all that's happened he may need me here. she admitted, somewhat begrudgingly. Not that he'll ever admit it.

She yawned. "Do you think I oughta take that job Harriet and Judy were talking about?"

"Huh?"

Lee leaned out of the bathroom, a toothbrush hanging from between his teeth. He'd lost the sweater and stood in plain slacks and a half-buttoned shirt. His hair was ruffled in such a way that Amanda felt the urge to straighten it with her fingers.

When she didn't immediately respond, he prodded, "Amanda?"

She shook herself and focused on a point directly above his forehead. His eyes were unsafe territory.

"Y'know, that door-to-door route thing."

"Amanda, selling Connie Beth cosmetics is perfect. You'll be inside every house in this area," Lee said, as if the answer was obvious.

"Yeah, and I'll have the blisters to prove it," she muttered before standing at a distance. "Listen, if we're gonna search the Bodines' house let's do it. I'm not gonna call my mother and tell her the rummage sale's still running late."

The toothbrush now discarded, Lee stepped into the hallway and plucked at the remaining buttons on his shirt. The bottom half parted to reveal tanned skin over sculpted musculature. Amanda stiffened almost instantly.

"Whatareyoudoing."

His head darted up. For a moment he looked almost innocent. "I'm going to bed."

"Come again?"

"Bed, Amanda. B, E, D. Bed. We can't go over until three or four in the morning."

She gaped at his gall. "Why not? Frank's not there, he's at the Rosemonts'!"

He stepped in her direction. "One—I don't want anyone up to watch us break in, and two," another step that made Amanda shiver. "It will look bad for you to leave the house this late." They were practically nose-to-nose now. Lee angled his head and let his voice drop. "Three—I need my rest."

Before Amanda could properly respond, he skirted around her to grab a nightcap from the sitting room. She heard the pouring only seconds later. She ran her hands up and down her arms. Even with long-sleeves, she could feel the gooseflesh breaking out along her skin.

"Doing this for the money, doing this for the money," she chanted under her breath.

Lee wandered back into her line of sight, chest bared for the world to see. Except there was no one else to see. Only them.

Money, money, money- The word had become her mantra.

Halting at the foot of the staircase, he asked, "Are you coming?"

All the air was sucked from her lungs in one great deluge.

"Lee, I can't sleep here. How would I explain it to my mother? To Dean?"

He threw back his head with a theatrical snort. "You didn't much care what Dave thought one week ago."

The reminder pulled her up short. She'd hoped that they could get through this mission without ever mentioning that again, but no such luck. Tremors wracked her spine and her veins oscillated between hot and cold.

"Oh, so now you're fine with bringing it up." Her tone turned dramatic. "The Infamous "Fluke"."

"Don't tell me you were thinking about your little boyfriend when I was inside you," he pressed, undeterred and relentless.

When had he gotten so close?

"You said you needed your rest. What you're suggesting is the furthest thing from restful."

"I beg to differ," he practically purred. "And who's suggesting anything? Just because the senior agent has bed rights, doesn't mean I'm not willing to share. No strings attached. Scout's honour."

She aimed a skeptical eye at his raised hand. Left hand, not right, two fingers, not three. 'No strings attached', indeed.

"You were never a scout."

"OK, you got me there, but the offer still stands. We can draw a border between each side of the bed if you want. It'll be our own little Iron Quilt." Smile fading, he looked at her with dissection-like intensity, like she was a sample under a microscope. "Unless your mind is still in the gutter, in which case..."

There was a beat of silence before Amanda set her shoulders.

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

He shrugged and resumed his trek upstairs. "Suit yourself~"

After watching him disappear around the bend, Amanda set up camp in the family room. She scrounged up a nice blanket and a couple of pillows to hunker down for a few hours. On the chesterfield, she reflected on her family. She missed her boys and hoped they were having fun at their friend's house. Mother was probably asleep by now, so she could play off this sojourn as nothing more than a late night.

And Dean...

Sighing, she tucked her legs to her chest and shimmied deeper into the cushions. The couch was uncomfortable, but her thoughts kept her up the most.

Amanda King was a woman in turmoil.

She kicked out before throwing off the blanket. Unbidden, her legs took her to the base of the stairway. She lingered on the bottommost step, trying to pierce the gloom with her eyes.

Lee had assured her that nothing would happen. Not without her go-ahead, anyway. Would it be so bad if something did happen? They were both grown adults, and last week proved that they were at least physically compatible.

No, it's wrong to string Dean along, she thought, resolving to tell him as soon as possible. Besides, I don't think I could take the Stetson brush-off for the second time.

Mind made up, she returned to her makeshift bed. She curled into a ball and tried to ignore the moisture pricking her eyes. Within minutes, she'd fallen into a troubled sleep.