It's All Coming Back To Me.
Summary: Why did Dr. Smyth kiss Francine under the mistletoe?
Events in "Baby, It's Cold Outside" by this author.
Setting: Third Season
Rating: PG (implied sexual content)
Disclaimer: Scarecrow and Mrs. King along with the characters in this story are copyrighted to Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon. Productions. No infringement is intended. Story is copyrighted to the author and may not be used without permission.
Dancing Shoes and Sketches written by Dan Fogelberg, featured on the album, NetherLands Copyright 1977
Prologue
Francine left Lee's Apartment, battling the snow that was threatening to blow her backward. "Wow, what a storm. I hope I can get home before the streets are closed. Poor Lee, I guess he'll miss his flight."
Thinking of how she had left Lee and Amanda, Francine decided that maybe it was for the best if he just stayed home. The two of them were putting off enough heat this evening to melt 2 feet of snow. Francine could not believe that frumpy Amanda would kiss Lee like that in plain view of all their co-workers. Maybe there was more to her than Francine thought.
Thinking back, Francine realized that she had been watching Lee and Amanda's attraction growing ever since the two had met. It had been fun twisting the knife in Lee's weakness for Amanda. Francine admitted to herself that the reason she did so was jealousy. She wanted what those two were finding, but Francine despaired of ever being able to trust declarations of love again.
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Finally arriving home, Francine changed into her silky gown and, after a small debate with herself, the matching robe. It would be much more practical to put on something warm, like flannel PJ's and a plush robe. Francine actually did own those items as part of her undercover wardrobe. Instead, she turned the heat up and, getting a bottle of wine from the kitchen, curled up in the chaise lounge to think.
"Tonight was a surprise in more ways than one," she thought to herself. Allowing her mind to drift back, Francine recalled that surreal moment when Dr. Smyth had taken her in his arms under the mistletoe. His kiss had left her stunned. Not only because he had entered into the spirit of the evening but because of the memories it stirred in her. No one except Francine heard his whispered comment just before his mouth descended on hers.
"Once more, for old times sake, eh, Francine?"
Sipping her wine, Francine allowed her mind to drift back to the days just after her first assignment, in Paris.
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Chapter 1
Francine Desmond was on top of the world. She had finished training with the Agency and her first assignment was right up her alley. She had been assigned to help with security at the Trade Summit in France. Her cover was so simple. She simply came as herself, the daughter of the Trade Ambassador from Illinois. He mother had been working in that position for several years.
"Mom wanted me to follow her into a life of public service." Francine thought wryly. "I don't think that this is what she had in mind."
Francine, like most daughters, had thought what Mom did was boring!! She wanted more excitement in her life. When she meet the agent in charge of the trade show a couple of years ago in Washington, she was enthralled. It didn't hurt that he was one of the cutest men she had ever met. His hazel eyes and boyish charm belied the tough interior. Francine had seen Lee Stetson single-handedly take out the sniper aiming at the Minister of Trade from Great Britain.
She liked what she saw, both personal and professional. Soon afterward, Francine had joined the Agency. She hoped to be able to meet up with Lee again for business as well as pleasure. However, Lee was off on assignment, who knew where, and Francine's first assignment was to help guard her mother.
The Trade Summit had gone off with nary a hitch. It was somewhat of a milk run for experienced agents. However, it was perfect for getting a new agent broken in. Francine had done a good job and Billy Melrose recommended that she take the next week off and enjoy Paris.
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"Francine let loose in Paris is a scary sight," reflected Melrose as he watched her entering the fifth fashionable boutique of the day. He settled in the café across the street to watch, glancing at his watch for the hundredth time. His flight left in 3 hours. Francine was on her own after that. Melrose had arranged for her to attend a party hosted by some friends of the agency. She would love that. That's why he was trailing around after her instead of heading home already.
"A party at chez Mousier Jean Claude!!" Francine had exclaimed when he told her. "Billy, I've got to get a dress!!!"
No matter that Melrose had protested, saying what she had worn on assignment was just fine. But NO!! She had to drag him around town. Melrose hated shopping. He didn't even go with his lovely wife, Jeannie. This woman took it for granted that he would spend his last free hours in Paris tagging along with her. 'Women,' he thought in a huff.
Seeing Francine emerge with a bag, Melrose let out a deep breath. It looked as if she had found something.
"Oh, Billy, wait until you see this! It is just perfect." Francine swept Melrose into a cab and back to the hotel.
Before he could form a coherent protest, Francine was in the bathroom of their shared suite, changing, ready to model the dress. When she emerged, Melrose had to admit that the dress was made for her. The burgundy dress was cut in a low scoop, ending just as her cleavage began to show. It was formfitting but not painted on her. Francine was a beautiful woman. The dress was a perfect foil for her blonde hair and blue eyes.
It was not until she turned around that Melrose saw that, as mild as the front was, the back was scooped below her waistline. Running across her back were thin straps covered with sequins.
He took a deep breath, not quite as blasé about the sight in front of him as he would like to appear. "You look," he took a very deep breath, "very nice, Francine."
"Nice, is that all you can say?" she demanded. "I spend all day looking for the perfect dress, and found it on special, mind you, and all you can say is NICE."
She flounced back to the bathroom, insulted. Melrose could only shake his head. He would never understand women. He gathered up his belongings as she returned from changing. Thank heavens he didn't have the task of watching over her tonight. The Agency assigned a semi-retired agents to the task of watchdogging rookies after their first assignments. It gave the older folks a chance to get out in the field with very little danger. Although, in Francine's case, Melrose could not be sure if she wasn't the danger. Francine drove him to the airport in a cold silence. Melrose could not think of anything to say that would ease the situation, so he stayed silent.
Francine drove back to the hotel, still in a snit over Billy's comment. She had been looking for something a little more descriptive. Giving a deep sigh, Francine tried to put Billy from her mind. As she did, the thought of what Lee might say if he ever saw her in that dress floated through her mind. She was sure that his comment would not be a simple 'nice'. Francine indulged for a few moments in the direction those thoughts took her. Soon she was back at the hotel and went to rest before preparing for tonight's party.
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Chapter 2
Francine exited the taxi in front of the lovely home that belonged to Mousier Jean Claude. The estate was located about a 30 minute drive north of Paris. Surrounded by fields, Francine wondered if there was a vineyard attached to the property. The main house was set back off the main drive by a wide circular drive in which valets were parking the guests' vehicles. Francine gaped as she saw a classic Rolls Royce Silver Ghost being maneuvered past more humble cars to a place of honor.
Standing in the doorway was the occupants of that vehicle. There was an older couple that Francine recognized from the Trade Summit, Jason Peabody and his young wife. Francine sniffed. Allysa Peabody was 25 years younger than her husband, red hair that came out of a bottle, and came with a roving eye for the handsome young aides at the conference.
Francine had learned that Peabody turned a blind eye to her wanderings as long as they were discrete. The other man in the party was in his early forties, very handsome. Francine wondered if he was Allysa latest "friend". He looked a little old to play the 'boy-toy' but there was no accounting for taste.
Francine mounted the steps leading to the ballroom ahead of the party from the Rolls. As luck would have it, she stepped wrong on the last stair. Her ankle twisted and Francine lost her balance. As she started to topple, strong male arms caught her and help her steady.
"Thank you," she said, breathless from the near fall.
"Any time I can hold a lovely woman like yourself in my arms, it's my pleasure." A deep voice with a New England accent answered. "Are you recovered?"
"Yes, I'm really fine. Thank you again," Francine looked up only to discover the voice belonged to the handsome man she had noticed earlier. She threw her head back, allowing her hair to swing freely and smiled.
Austin was intrigued. Who was this beautiful creature in his arms? Why had he not met her before tonight? As he set her back on her feet, Austin vowed to get to know her this evening.
Allysa tugged at his arm. "Austin, you're blocking the path, MOVE!" The young woman shoved him aside and, casting a superior look at Francine, swept past the two of them. Francine glared after her but decided to let the incident pass without comment.
"Forgive my little sister," he said. "She wants to be 'SEEN' at this party."
Francine was relieved, the redhead was his sister! Maybe this chance meeting had potential, after all.
Smiling at the handsome man beside her, Francine spoke. "I'm afraid I didn't realize that we were blocking the stairs. Please forgive me and thank you for the gallant rescue." She looked into his eyes, giving him a brilliant smile.
Austin Smyth was stunned. He had known many lovely women in his life. As the aide to a powerful senator, he moved among the rich and powerful in the many nations of the world. He was as at ease with a Countess as with a courtesan. He had met both kinds of women in his career. But this young woman was the first to take his breath away so completely. He was suddenly aware of the feel of her skin under his hands, the subtle scent of her perfume, the depth of her blue eyes. Noticing that he was still holding her arms, Austin quickly released her. Instead, he offered her his arm. "May I escort you the rest of the way, to insure there are no further mishaps?"
Francine gave him a small smile, taking the proffered arm. They ascended the stairs together. They reached the top and offered the doorman their invitations. Giving the names a quick glance, the doorman announced the newcomers to the room in a bassoon-like voice. "Francine Desmond escorted by Austin Smyth."
Austin smiled over at Francine who stood looking stunned.
"Oh, my." She said weakly. "You seem to have been cast as my escort. I'm so sorry."
"Nonsense, don't give it another thought." He smiled at her concern as he took Francine's arm and escorted her towards a bar in one corner of the room. "They just like to sound pompous. No one pays any attention unless it is a ROYAL coming in. Now, may I get you a drink?"
Francine smiled and requested a glass of Merlot. Austin disappeared into the crowd, leaving her lost in thought.
In a nearby corner, Rupert was having a coughing fit. A kindly party guest was asking if the old man was alright and patting him on the back. Rupert caught his breath, assured his helper that there was no problem and moved across the room to be nearer to Francine.
"Billy Melrose was right about this one," he thought to himself. Watching Francine accept her glass from the man who escorted her in the room, Rupert smiled. "Well, well, well. I wonder if those two have any idea what fire they are playing with?" Rupert longed to take Francine aside and set her straight but he was here strictly to watch and see how well she handled freedom after the first assignment. Some agents went wild, casting discretion to the wind, some became very drunk. Still others took unnecessary chances, again seeking the thrill of danger. That was why old folks like him were now assigned to watch and report. His evaluation of her would go in the permanent record and reflect on her chances of advancement in the Agency.
Lurking near the couple, Rupert noticed that neither made any move to find other company. They made a striking couple. Austin Smyth was Old Money, everything about him screamed "Power". He was gracious and charming, just like a snake, Rupert thought unkindly, like a cobra just before it strikes.
Francine Desmond was beautiful, a self confident woman whose family was beginning to rise in the political scene. However, she was no match for Smyth's experience. It was going to be some painful days ahead for this young woman if she started keeping time with Smyth.
Rupert watched as Smyth escorted Francine through the party. He would often pause and introduce her to many of the guests. They would chat for a while before being descended on by another group. Everyone was buzzing about the tall blond and wondering from where she had come. Rupert heard lots of speculation, none even close to the truth. Finally, Mousier Jean Claude mentioned that her mother was involved in the Trade Summit and speculation came to a halt. The common assumption was that Francine would soon be another notch on Smyth's bedpost.
Chapter 3
Austin and Francine had made the rounds of the party. She had met so many strangers tonight that even her Agency training was failing before the task of keeping them straight in her head. Worse, in the opulent ladies room Francine overheard whispers about Austin. The gossips were speculation on weather Allysa would take this newcomer sitting down or try to direct Austin's attention back to herself.
Francine was puzzled at the last remark. Perhaps her French wasn't up to translating the local expressions. She was sure that Austin had called Allysa his 'sister'. Why would Francine be considered her rival? A smile came over Francine's face was she checked her make-up before heading back to the party. Austin had whispered in her ear that he wanted to leave, go some place quieter so they could talk.
Rupert was lurking about near the Ladies room waiting for Francine to reappear. She seemed to have been in there a very long time. Finally the door opened and she appeared.
As she exited the Ladies room, Austin appeared from a side alcove where he had been waiting with her wrap. Rupert was not happy to see him hovering so closely around her. He took her arm and they made a surreruptsious exit out the balcony doors. A car was waiting for them at the end of the garden. It was the Rolls Francine had seen Austin's party arriving in earlier that evening.
"Won't your friends need a ride back to town?" she questioned.
"We'll send the car back with a note after we get to my apartment. Don't worry about it. If I know Allysa, she'll stay at the party until the wee hours. They'll never even notice I've left."
That was the last sight or sound Rupert had of Francine. He didn't have a ride back to town so quickly. Sighing, Rupert watched the taillights of the Rolls until they faded from view. Dejected, he turned to go back to the party. Surely this was going to be his last case. He couldn't even keep up with a rookie. Maybe it was time to head out to Birchwood, the old spies home.
"Austin," Francine spoke after they were settled in the Rolls. "Uh, don't take this the wrong way..but.. well.." Francine stammered. She really was attracted to this man but she didn't want him to think she was some cheap one night stand. "Well, what I mean to say is," she took a deep breath and then just blurted it out. "Why are we going to your apartment? I think it's much too soon for anything along that line." There, she had said it. 'How will he react?' Francine wondered, pensively.
What she was not prepared for was the shout of laughter that issued from him. Outrage, perhaps, coaxing, to be sure. She knew how to handle men when they had those reactions. But laughter was not something the normally greeted Francine Desmond as she was trying to divine a mans intentions.
Austin covered his mouth, trying to stifle the chuckles still running through him. 'What a delightful creature.' He thought to himself as he studied her offended features. Her mouth was turned down in displeasure, making him want to kiss it until she smiled at him. She had a marvelous smile.
"Francine," he spoke in a somewhat choked voice as he quirked an eyebrow at her. "My car is at the apartment. If we wish to have transportation the rest of the evening, I will need to retrieve it, oui?"
Francine felt foolish. Of course, a car. What could she have been thinking? Why would this man want to take her to his apartment on 3 hours acquaintance? He hadn't given her any indication that he was anything less than honorable in his intentions. "But you wanted him to be!!" A little voice danced in her head , quickly shushed.
The Rolls dropped them off in the 7th Arrondissement, on the southern bank of the Seine. From there it was but a short walk to the apartment that Austin used when in Paris. They entered the front door and Austin had the doorman summon his car. Francine glanced around the lobby. It was quite impressive, elegant furnishings, the walls lined with paintings. The car arrived and soon the two were driving down the dark Paris streets to the promised 'quiet place'.
Chapter 4
The next days passed in a whirl of activity for Francine Desmond and Austin Smyth. Austin knew all the important people and was pleased to show off his new lady friend. He introduced her to the top fashion designers, encouraging her to chose clothes that enhanced her natural beauty. She had a private session with Gianni Verscea. Verscea created a stunning gown for her and promised to have it delivered before the opera the next evening.
True to his word, the gown was delivered to Francine's hotel the next afternoon. It was truly a one of a kind creation. Made of a stretchy velvet, the dress conformed to every curve, allowing no chance for undergarments. It was a simple black but with gold and silver threads running through it. Every time she moved, the light reflected making a sparkling flash of color. Held up by one shoulder, the gown curved over her breasts, hugging them. The back was non-existent until just below the waist before falling to the floor.
In the box containing the gown was an accompanying note. "Never wear anything but the best, my dear. You are a designer's dream. If you ever need a job, come see me. G."
Austin was enthralled by the gown. They went to the opera where he could barely keep his hands off of her. Afterwards, they returned to his apartment where he set about seducing her. Things had been progressing nicely when the phone rang, ruining the mood. It was Allysa, demanding to know where Austin had been hiding the past days.
Taking a chance, Francine dared to ask. "Austin, didn't you call Allysa your sister when we first met?"
"Umm. Did I?" he replied, trying to regain the mood that had been so rudely interrupted.
"Yes, you did. Is she? Your sister, I mean?" Francine felt foolish, questioning him like this. Surely, Austin wouldn't lie to her.
"Well," he began. "She's my 'little sister'. You know, fraternity, sorority sister. That type of sister. Not flesh and blood if that's what you thought." He looked down at her lying on the sofa, amazed at how naive she was sometimes.
"Oh," said Francine weakly. "That explains it.." Her voice trailed off as Austin's eyes narrowed.
"Explains what, my dear?" He asked in a deceptively gentle tone.
"Nothing, just ladies room gossip." Francine gave a nervous laugh. "Really, you know how catty women can be, that's all." Francine searched his eyes, trying to see if he believed her. When he smiled down at her, relief flooded her body.
"Austin, I really need to go home, I'm simply about to drop." Francine smiled at him.
Austin shrugged it off. There was plenty of time. He continued to wine and dine her. They went to the theater, and the disco clubs. Rupert continued to watch from a distance. He was out of place at many of the establishments they frequented. What he could observe was enough to disturb him. So he stayed as close as possible and had a ticket on the same flight home as Francine.
Francine was soon head over heels in love with this man. He showered affection on her as naturally as breathing. He was sophisticated, charming, worldly. It wouldn't be long before she discovered he was a tender and considerate lover as well.
They had been out dancing at the hot new disco club, Le' Fever. Francine enjoyed dancing with Austin. The combination of the beat and the intoxicating company combined to lower her defenses.
The DJ played a slow song by a new artist. Francine was swept away by the images it provoked for her.
Dancing shoes
On the wall above your bedside
Saw it all as we performed
Our pirouette
Fleshes fused
As the flicker of the candles
Threw upon the wall a
Single silhouette.
Tu es dans ma coeur et dans ma fete'
Dancing shoes
We have loved on distant beaches
Where the winter never reaches
There we fell
Dying swan
On the dawn you danced before me
Though your eyes were dark and stormy
I stood still
Qui peut dire le faux et le reel?
Dancing shoes
Though the distances divide us
There's a paradise inside us
We can't lose.
Me and you
Dance a 'pas de deuz'
Forever
And I pray you never
Shed your dancing shoes.
Austin pulled her close to him and impressed on her his ardent desire to be closer to her, much closer. He led her out to the terrace, enveloping her in his arms and kissing her. His body language left no doubt as to what dance he was interested in performing the rest of the night.
Francine was on fire, she couldn't believe this wonderful man was in love with her. Surely nothing could mar their happiness. Willingly she accompanied him back to his apartment. They spent the rest of her stay in Paris making love and drinking champagne.
The day Francine was scheduled to leave for home was a sad one for them both. Austin was to take her to the airport but he got a call from the Senator in the morning.
"Francine, cherie', I'm so sorry. I really must attend this meeting. I have played hooky too long enjoying your delightful company," he explained to her. "Alas, I must attend to my job."
"But, Austin, you don't need to work, why do you put up with these demands?" Francine complained.
Austin turned to stare at her, unable to believe what she had said. "It's very simple, my dear. Power. He has it and I want it. To get what I want, I must play the game. Surely, you know that's how things work in this world." He crossed the room and took her in his arms. "Lavender's blue, diddle, diddle, Lavender's green: When I am King, diddle, diddle, Francine will be my Queen. Now, you must let me do what need to be done to insure the future."
Francine melted in his arms at the poem. Sure it was a little lame, stealing a child's nursery rhyme to woo her, but the thought was sweet.
"Don't worry," he went on. "I've made arrangements for the car to take you. I'll see you soon, back in the states. What was the name of your company, again?"
"International Federal Films, IFF. They're in Georgetown. You can reach me there. I really don't have a place yet. I'm not even sure that's where I'll be assigned for long." Francine was nervous giving out the cover name for the Agency. 'Hopefully, he won't have any reason to believe it's anything but a film company. Anyway, nobody said I couldn't have a life.' She thought defiantly.
"That's right. I know I have your number tucked away in my briefcase. I'll call as soon as I return to the states. You'll call me, when you arrive home, oui? Ah, Francine, I shall miss your company." With that statement, Austin swept her in his arms and kissed her like there was no tomorrow. "Remember me," he whispered, holding her close to him for a last brief instant.
Francine left Paris, her head in the clouds, her heart firmly linked to Austin.
Chapter 6
Francine was tired. The trip across the ocean in coach had been long and exhausting. There was a screaming baby halfway back in the cabin. She was ready to strangle the child, and it's mother as well, before half an hour had past. The baby cried on and off for the 11 hour trip. Every time Francine dozed off to sleep, it would start up again. When she departed the plane at Dulles, Francine was wiped out and couldn't wait to get to a hotel and crash, sleeping for twelve straight hours.
But IFF had other plans. A rookie agent who was holding a sign with her name misspelled met her. It was puppy love at first sight for Agent Beaman. He drove her to the Agency and escorted her to the Section Chief's Office. Dirk Bowman was sitting behind the desk when Francine presented herself. She looked like something the cat had dragged in out of the rain and she felt even worse. Francine didn't even spare a glance at the other man in the room. Her attention and anger was focused on the man behind the desk.
"What's so important you had to drag me here after 11 hours on a crowded plane with a screaming baby, in coach no less? Can't it wait until morning?" she demanded.
"Sit down Desmond," Bowman demanded. "I want to know what the hell you thought you were doing in Paris? Running around with a political junkie at all hours of the day and night, sleeping with him after just a few days acquaintance? Did you tell him who you work for? Just what were you thinking with over there besides the obvious?"
Francine sat in the chair before the desk. She was stunned that he knew what she had been doing in her free time. "What were you doing, spying on me?" she demanded.
"Standard practice after the first assignment. Yes, we had you watched. And your actions recklessly endangered this Agency." He pressed a button and Francine's voice played. "Film, IFF. They're in Georgetown. You can reach me there." The playback was cut off with an angry stab of a finger.
"You tell a political appointee wannabe who you work for in DC. All he has to do is check with friends and he'll know exactly what you do and for whom. Then where will your cover be? You'll be useless here in DC and any other political circle. You may have just blown your entire career with the Agency. I hope he was good in bed, because that's all you'll ever have from him."
"What, what do you mean? Austin doesn't know what IFF is and I didn't tell him. He'll be a good introduction to the movers and shakers in this town. There's no way he'd blow my cover. He loves me."
"No, Desmond, he loves power. And he'll use you and anyone else who comes along to get it. Besides, he's already married." Bowman dropped that bombshell on Francine as she slumped back in the chair, shrinking in on herself.
"No," she whispered. "No, he would have told me. He .. he can't be."
Bowman pushed a newspaper clipping in front of her. Dated two years before, it announced the nuptials of Austin Smyth to Judy Parsons, daughter of Alister Parsons, Senior Partner in Parson, West and Williams, one of the largest law firms on the East Coast.
Bowman gave her no time to recover from the blow. Pointing at the phone, he demanded. "Call him and tell him that he can't reach you here. Tell him you cannot see him for a while. Tell him that you were fired from your new job because you were late reporting back from vacation. I really don't care what platitudes you use but break it off with him. Do it gently and maybe, just maybe, we can salvage your career, if he backs off."
Bowman nodded to Rupert and the two men left to give her the illusion of privacy. Francine called, not thinking about the time difference. The phone rang several times and she was about to hang up when a woman's voice answered.
"Bonjour, oui?" A stream of French spilled from the phone as Francine sat in stunned silence. She hadn't been gone 12 hours and Austin had another woman in his bed. A shot of pain gave her strength.
"Austin Smyth, please," she stated firmly. The phone was handed to over and Austin came on the line.
"Oui?" Francine could hear the sleep in his voice and it steeled her resolve.
"Austin, its Francine. You wanted me to call. Well, I'm back and I never want to see you again. How dare you? My place in your bed isn't even cold before you have some French slut in it with you. I thought you loved me.." she began breaking down at this point. "I thought we had something special. Looks like I was wrong, about a lot of things."
"Francine," Austin's voice sounded across the miles. "What we had was magic, while it lasted. But life moves on, eh, kiddio? No hard feelings now, are there? You know what they say about the mice will play when the cat's away. Well, my cat is home and playtime is over."
Francine heard female laughter in the background and a voice spoke in her ear. "Thank you, cherie' for teaching him some new tricks, we will enjoy remembering you."
"You are sick, both of you. I never want to see or hear from you again!!!" Francine slammed down the phone, struggling to hold back the tears.
Chapter 7
When the office door opened, she turned her head away, unwilling to give Bowman the sastification of her tears. But the newcomer wasn't Bowman. A pair of strong arms came around her shoulders and held her close. Sensing a friend, Francine sobbed in his arms until the worst of the shock had passed. A hand passed her the box of tissues and Francine attended to cleaning up the mess she had made of her face. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face her comforter.
A smile played across his face as Lee Stetson saw recognition dawn on Francine. He remembered her when they first met after he saved the British Minister of Trade a while back. She was lovely then but she had grown in the past months to a beautiful woman, if you liked that tall, blonde and curvy kind. That was just the type he did like. Things were looking up here in DC.
"You!" she exclaimed.
"Yup, in the flesh," he replied, a twinkle in his eye. "How about a cup of coffee?"
Lee escorted Francine out of the office and into her new life as a Federal Agent. He stood beside her in the hard months ahead. Lee covered for her a few months later, when a personal issue caused her to lose time from work.
They worked closely on many cases after that, at one time even becoming lover's for a short while. That could never have lasted. They were both too alike and too different. Both were distrustful of love. Francine's heart had been broken by Austin's betrayal and she shut out the softer emotions.
The only person who ever say her cry again was that same Lee Stetson as they stood in the cemetery, watching the dirt cover the pitifully small coffin the was all that remained. They never spoke of it again.
Epilogue
Francine was aware of Austin's progress through the years. She knew when his wife died of cancer. She watched him gain the power he craved when she had met him. When Smyth was appointed head of the Agency, Francine was wary of what his reaction would be towards her.
Dr. Austin Smyth, by that time he had his doctorate in Political Science, treated her just the same as any other agent he came in contact with in the course of the day. That is to say, with indifference and scorn.
Francine never let on to anyone that she had known him in the past. That incident was buried in the file. The only people who had any knowledge of it were Uncle Rupert, who had long since retired to Birchwood, Billy Melrose and Lee Stetson. None of them were talking.
Two weeks after the first staff meeting with Smyth, Lee took Francine to the gravesite. She hadn't been there in years. A simple while marble marker marked the spot. Francine knelt in the dirt, lost in her thoughts.
"Did you ever tell him?" Lee asked breaking the silence.
"No, what would have been the use? He wanted nothing to do with me. A child out of wedlock would have been an embarrassment to him. It's better this way. It always has been."
Lee's arms went around her, providing the support she had come to rely in over the years. A part of her loved him, would always love him. But Francine knew that Lee had moved beyond her, to a better life. She only wished that her life would echo his in that way.
That night in Lee's apartment was the first time Francine had been close to Austin in the intervening years. When he had kissed her under the mistletoe tonight, so many memories had surfaced. They had plunged her into this nostalgic mood. Rising from the chaise lounge Francine made a trip to the kitchen for another bottle of wine to see her through the night. Making a detour by the stereo, she selected album, turning on the soothing sounds of Dan Fogelberg's 'NetherLands' . Singing along to the music, Francine couldn't help but smile at the cut entitled "Scarecrow's Dream". It looked like her Scarecrow's dreams were about to come true, while she was left with the empty ashes of her life.
The haunting strains of the next cut drifted through her soul, and she cried herself to sleep, mourning for the past.
Sketches
a. Winter
Standing beside you
Mid-winter day
Hearts beating close
Together
Wishing that we'd found
Someway to make
That moment last
Forever
Standing silent--laughing--
Breathing steam
Gazing down into a freezing
Stream…
I saw the face of a child
I saw the face of our child.
The End ( or maybe we need Dr. Smyth's side of the story?)
