There was a note on Amanda's desk when she arrived at Q Bureau on Monday morning, asking her to come to Billy's office. The note was written in Billy's hand, which Amanda found curious. Billy had visited her frequently when Lee had first gone missing, but over time his visits had lessened, and he seldom ventured up to the second floor these days. Amanda couldn't fault him for it. With the end of the cold war, he was constantly having to defend the department's budget while still ensuring that operations ran smoothly. His hectic meeting schedule left little time for casual conversation and their relationship was largely professional. Amanda appreciated Billy's continued support of her career but missed their more informal chats. She thought that he, more than anyone, knew what Lee had meant to her.

She took the elevator down to his office, knocked on his door and entered at his signal. She noted that Billy had a new computer on his desk, which was somewhat amusing because Billy hated the computer and could never get it to run any of the Agency's programs. Those seated in the bullpen outside his office were accustomed to hearing him bellow for Francine to rescue him from the "blasted machine."

"Good morning, Amanda," Billy said, rising from his chair as she entered. "Did you have a nice weekend?"

"Yes, sir," Amanda replied. The sir was automatic, ingrained from her early days at the Agency. She'd never been able to drop it, even though she'd worked with Billy for seven years.

He shuffled a few papers to the side of his desk. "Do anything special?"

Amanda shrugged and smiled. She didn't want to tell Billy that she and her mother had spent Sunday afternoon watching the backlog of Murphy Brown episodes she'd recorded on the VCR. "Nothing too special," she said honestly. "Philip is headed to Georgetown in a few weeks, so we're getting him ready to leave the house for college. I'm having a hard time believing that he's old enough to manage on his own. I'm pretty sure he has no clue how to do laundry, even though I've shown him several times."

Billy laughed. "I remember those days with my kids. He'll figure it out. And if he doesn't, it's not like he's far from home."

"No. Mother and I are glad he picked Georgetown. Still, I want him to live in the dorm, at least for his freshman year. He needs to have the college experience."

"You'll miss him."

"Sure will, although I think his brother is going to miss him more. They've always been close."

Billy nodded. "Jamie is starting his sophomore year in high school?"

"Junior," Amanda corrected, surprised at how chatty Billy was being this morning. He hadn't asked about her kids in a while. He was procrastinating, she guessed. He had news – or an assignment - he didn't think she was going to like.

"He's a good student?" Billy continued.

Amanda shrugged once more. "Jamie loves technology and computers. He does well in math and science. He's not so crazy about literature and history."

Billy gave her a sheepish grin. "Maybe we can get him to work here," he joked, gesturing at the computer on his desk. "I hate the damn things." He looked down and shuffled the same papers once more. When he lifted his head to meet her eyes, his grin faded.

"Sir?" Amanda said.

"Yes."

"Why don't you just say whatever it is you don't want to say."

Billy laughed. "I should have known that you'd read the situation. You're good at reading people – you know that, right?"

"Sir-" Amanda leveled a steady look at him.

He sighed. "Fine. I've got an assignment that's below your pay grade. I'm a little embarrassed to ask you, but I'm hoping you won't mind doing it all the same."

So, she'd guessed correctly. He had a task he didn't think she would like. She raised her eyebrows. "What's the assignment?"

He sat in his chair and gestured for her to take the seat in front of his desk. "Do you remember Alan Chamberlain?" he asked.

Did she remember Alan Chamberlain? Silly question. Alan was one of the very few men who had managed to catch Amanda's eye when she was working with Lee. Tall, intelligent, with a thick head of sandy hair and lovely blue eyes, he lived an unusual life and she'd found him fascinating to listen to. Not to mention that he was a good listener himself. Amanda was assigned to tail Alan early in her third year at the Agency – before Lee had declared his feelings for her. The tailing had turned into contact, and she and Alan had shared a memorable dinner. If his sister hadn't been kidnapped, there probably would have been more dinners.

Aloud, she said, "Alan Chamberlain. The document restoration specialist who lives in Italy?"

Bill nodded. "Yes, that's the fellow. He's coming back to the U.S. to work a special assignment for the National Archives. The Federalist Papers have some kind of mold. He's going to be in the DC area for a couple of months to treat them, and we need to update his background check before he can be allowed near the documents."

"I see."

"I know a background check is a little basic for you now, with your experience, but I was hoping you wouldn't mind doing the interview. As I recall, you had a good rapport with Chamberlain. If there's anything he doesn't want us to know, he's more likely to let it slip with you."

Amanda studied Billy. His tone was neutral, his expression, bland. If he had another motive for asking her to meet with Alan, it wasn't apparent. Still, it seemed odd that her boss remembered the details of an assignment that had taken place years ago. And background interviews generally were assigned to more junior agents. Amanda had done her fair share of them before she'd been promoted, but it had been a couple of years since she'd conducted her last one.

She gave a mental shrug and asked herself if there were any reasons she shouldn't agree to interview Alan. She didn't give a damn about below your pay grade. The Agency (and Billy, specifically) had taken a huge chance on her when she'd first started working with Lee; she could be accommodating in return. And if she were honest, she was curious to see what Alan was up to, four years after she'd met him. The fact that he knew what she did for a living was a bonus. She wouldn't have to make up entire fictions about herself when they talked.

"I don't mind, sir," she said to Billy. "It's been a while since I've done a background interview. It will be good to refresh those skills."

"Ah, thank you, Amanda." And for the first time since she'd walked into his office, Billy appeared at ease. "I appreciate you being flexible about this."

"No problem."

"Chamberlain is scheduled to arrive in DC the day after tomorrow. I'll make sure the details are sent to you."

"I'll be on the lookout for them. Have a good day, sir."

"You too, Amanda."

And Amanda headed for the elevator to return to Q Bureau.

A few minutes later, Francine Desmond walked into Billy's office. She was surprised to see the smile on her boss's face, particularly when she was certain he had a budget meeting with Dr. Smyth later that day.

She dropped a file folder on his desk. "The latest budget workup," she explained, "with the cuts we talked about. We're still about ten percent over budget."

"Are we?" Billy continued to smile. In fact, he had what Francine could only think of as a gleam in his eye.

She frowned and sat in the chair in front of his desk. "You want to let me in on the joke? I just gave you bad news and you're acting as if your meeting with Dr. Smyth will be rainbows and unicorns."

Billy shook his head. "Oh, the meeting will be awful. Dr. Smyth will probably tear me a new one."

"So, what am I missing?"

Billy shrugged. "Nothing. You're missing nothing, Francine. The budget projections aren't good. It will be a terrible meeting. I guess I decided that I'm not going to let it get to me today."

"As easy as that, huh?" Francine was tempted to take a sip from Billy's coffee mug to see if he'd added whiskey to his morning's brew, but didn't think he would appreciate that. Instead, she shuffled the remainder of the of file folders that she held and moved onto the next subject. "We've got a few background checks to do," she said. "I thought I'd assign them to Patterson and Canfield. They just finished their six month training. It will be a good chance to see how much they've learned."

"I like that idea," Billy replied. He paused, then held up one hand. "Except for the background check on Chamberlain. I've already asked Amanda King to take that one."

"Amanda?" Francine looked up in surprise. "Why would you ask Amanda to do a background check?"

Billy shrugged. "She met Chamberlain the last time he came to the States. As I recall, he got on well with her. She helped Lee rescue his sister."

The gleam was still in his eye. Suspicious now, Francine slid Chamberlain's file out from the stack and opened it. "Alan Chamberlain," she read silently. "Forty-six years old, document restoration specialist, born in Chicago, now residing in Florence, Italy." She studied the photo. Chamberlain was certainly attractive. You didn't see many men in their mid-forties with that much hair. And those eyes. Francine wouldn't mind interviewing him herself, particularly in a secluded area where nature might take its course.

She peered across the desk at her boss. Billy was still grinning and she wondered if he'd read her mind. Then another thought occurred to her. "Billy - you're not...are you setting Amanda up?"

"Setting her up?" Billy's voice was curt, but he didn't entirely lose the grin.

"You know, like on a date? You just said Chamberlain got on well with her."

"This is the Agency, Francine, not a dating service."

"Exactly." Francine nodded. "Except I can't think of another reason for you to assign the interview to Amanda. We both know she's too senior for this kind of work. So, I repeat. Are you using an assignment to further Amanda's social life?"

Billy sighed. Francine was one of his best agents. He was grooming her - informally - to take over when he retired. However, he occasionally questioned her suitability for leading the department. She could quote the Agency manual chapter and verse, and she did better than most in handling Dr. Smyth. But she didn't appreciate that there were times you needed to relax the rules. The nuances of personal relationships and motivations sometimes escaped her.

He straightened in his chair. "Is there anything that precludes a senior agent from doing a background interview?"

Francine shook her head. "No, but-"

"Then the interview goes to Amanda," he stated. When Francine continued to look perplexed, Billy felt obligated to offer some explanation. "Amanda's a good agent," he said more gently, "a very good agent - but she lost something when Lee died. There used to be a kind of light in her. It was an asset. I'd like to see her get that light back."

Francine pursed her lips. It had taken her years to admit that Amanda King was competent at her job. Long after Lee Stetson had begun singing the housewife's praises, Francine had continued to chalk the woman's successes up to luck. Eventually, however, she'd come to realize that Amanda did indeed have a unique set of talents. They could be annoying talents, but they were talents nonetheless. And Billy was right. Amanda had never been quite the same without Lee. She was a woman who liked having a partner - either in life, or work, or both.

To Billy's relief, Francine smiled and nodded. "I understand," she said. She shoved Chamberlain's folder back into the stack. "The interview goes to Amanda."

"Another glass of wine?"

Alan Chamberlain smiled as he lifted the bottle from the bucket at the side of their table.

Amanda covered her glass with her hand. "Thank you, no, Alan."

"You didn't care for it?"

"It's a very nice pinot grigio. I'm just not used to drinking wine at lunch. And I've got to get back to the office this afternoon. I've got a few things I need to finish up."

"Difficult things?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Not really. But things people are waiting on. I've got surveillance tapes to review, and recommendations to make."

"Reports and recommendations," Alan repeated. "So, you don't have to chase anybody, or shoot anybody?"

She laughed. "No. They usually don't give me the chasing and shooting assignments."

"Then have another glass of wine. I'm pretty sure the Agency doesn't forbid it."

Amanda waved a hand. "Not specifically, no. But the Agency expects me to have my wits about me. And I won't have them if I drink too much pinot grigio."

He frowned. "Too much? By Italian standards, you're a teetotaler. You've only had one glass."

"Which is one more than I'm used to having at lunch on a Wednesday." She pushed her glass away from her plate for emphasis.

Alan studied her as if assessing her resolve, then sighed and returned the bottle to the bucket. "Fair enough. The next time I invite you out for a meal, it will be dinner on a Friday night. That way you can enjoy the wine."

Amanda pressed her lips together. "I wasn't fishing for a dinner invitation, Alan."

"I know. I kind of wish you were."

She sat back. "What does that mean?"

He shrugged. "I've been back in the States for three weeks now. We've had lunch four times and I still can't figure out what you think of me."

"What I think of you?" She looked down and fiddled with the napkin on her lap.

"You know what I mean. Am I still an assignment for you, or are you having lunch with me because you like my company as much as I like yours?"

Well, that was direct. Amanda had been wondering when they would get to this conversation - and worrying about it, too. Alan's interest in her was as obvious as it had been four years ago. And as flattering as that was, things would be easier, she thought, if they kept it casual. She liked Alan. He was intelligent, attractive, and well-traveled - and yet considerate enough to want to talk about her and not himself. He was kind, and she was pretty sure he had a good moral compass. About the only thing wrong with him was that he wasn't Lee Stetson - which meant that a certain spark was missing. But then, she reminded herself, no other man would ever be Lee. It was an unfair standard.

She lifted her napkin to her mouth to buy time as she thought about her response. She knew what her friends and family would tell her if they knew the truth. Time to move on, Amanda. Do you want to spend the rest of your life in mourning? She was barely in her forties. There was a lot of life left to be lived. In a few years, her sons would be out of the house and on their own. Maybe it was time she pushed herself to get out there and not be so concerned about sparks. After all, she and Lee hadn't exactly hit it off when they'd first met. Things had grown over time.

She cleared her throat. "I like your company, too, Alan."

"But-"

She shook her head. "No buts. I like your company. My assignment ended the first week you were back. I'm not on the job today."

He looked pleased, but also a little confused. "Well, I must say you have a good poker face. I like to think I can pick up on social cues, but I had no idea what you were thinking."

That's what seven years as a spy will do for you. There was a time when I wasn't such a good deceiver. Amanda decided to give Alan the truth - well, most of the truth. He was a good man. He deserved it.

"I'm still…" she paused, "I'm still getting over something that ended a couple of years ago. He was very, very special to me, and it's been hard for me to accept that he's gone. I haven't gone out with anyone since."

Alan regarded her silently for a moment. Then he said, "What happened?"

"He died."

His face filled with grief. "I'm sorry. Was he…did he work for the Agency?"

"Yes. He was killed on assignment."

He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "That must have been very difficult for you, Amanda."

It still is. She shrugged. "He was an incredible man and I miss him every day. But I think it's time I kept a place for him in my heart and moved forward with my life. He wouldn't want me to mourn him for the next thirty years."

Alan nodded. "Wise words, although it's easier said than done."

"Yes."

"But you think you're ready to move forward?"

She took a breath, appreciating that he wasn't pressuring her. "I can try. I can give things a chance. I can't promise more than that."

"That's fair."

Amanda smiled. "If it's any encouragement, he wasn't exactly crazy about me when we met. Our lives were very different, and I exasperated him. It took us three years to get together. I sometimes think of the time we wasted and wish we'd figured things out more quickly."

Alan released her hand and sat back. "Tutto a suo tempo."

"What does that mean?"

"It's Italian for everything in its own time."

Not exactly satisfying, but true, Amanda decided. She nodded.

"How about we start with this Friday?" he suggested. "Nothing fancy, just dinner and a movie."

"Sounds good."