True Companions

by Mary

An inside glimpse at "Scarecrow and Mrs. King" through four very different sets of eyes...

4. Part Four - Amanda

*DISCLAIMER** see Part One…

TRUE COMPANIONS

PART FOUR:

AMANDA KING STETSON

"LETTING GO"

"Oh. . . my. . . gosh!"

I closed my eyes, breathing heavily as my heartbeat sought a normal rhythm. Lee pulled me against him, our legs tangling intimately beneath the covers, his own slightly breathless laugh reverberating in my ears.

"Only you could say a thing like that in a moment like this."

I twisted in his arms, looking up to find his eyes staring at me with more than a hint of amusement.

"Can I help it if you drove everything else right out of my head?" I teased, my cheeks flushing under the growing intensity of his gaze. Lee could say more with one look than he could with a thousand words. I reached up to brush a few dampened strands of hair from his forehead. "Besides," I told him with a grin, "as I recall, those words once saved my life."

"That's true," he laughed, and I knew he recalled the day he'd rescued me from my surgically altered double as clearly as I did. "You were an original even then, Amanda King."

"The name's Stetson, Stetson," I chided, driving my point home with a few well-placed kisses. "And don't you forget it."

"How could I?" he whispered, reaching over to pull me across him. "Especially after the last few hours. What you've been doing to me, Mrs. Stetson, should be illegal." He laughed again, a warm, rumbling sound from deep inside his chest.

"I'm happy to break the law with you any time, Scarecrow," I murmured, snuggling into his arms. I felt his hand brush through my hair, absently twirling a few stray waves around his fingers. The even rise and fall of his breathing soothed me to drowsy contentment. Moments like these occurred all too infrequently in our mystery marriage, and I hated to break the spell.

"Can you stay?" Lee asked almost plaintively, his words echoing my feelings.

"No," I replied, reluctantly pulling away. "I've got to go . . . Mother. . . then the boys will be home and. . . well, you know."

"Yeah," he agreed despondently. "I know."

"Lee, I. . ." My words sputtered off, my gift of gab failing me miserably. What was there to say, anyway? In the few short months since our wedding, we'd said it all a hundred times.

He made no move to stop me as I left his bed. I bent to collect the clothing that had, in our earlier haste, landed unceremoniously around the room. "Have you seen my. . ."

"Right here." He smiled as he playfully tossed my pink satin bra in my direction. The painful moment had passed, and we'd managed to narrowly avoid another argument. Resigned to the inevitable, we dressed in companionable silence. He walked me to my car, the way he always did when our evenings came to a precipitous close, leaning in to kiss me goodbye through the open window. As I drove home from his D.C. apartment to my empty bed in Arlington, I wondered once again how we could ever make this work.

* * *

I'd always had a very logical mind.

Lee used to roll his eyes whenever I said that, but it was true. So how I'd become so tangled in this web of deceit is anyone's guess. Although, it probably had something to do with a pair of the most beautifully expressive hazel eyes I'd ever seen.

They'd looked right into my soul when he'd suggested this 'mystery marriage', and I'd somehow found myself in complete agreement. I think we both wanted to be married so badly that we never stopped to look past the actual ceremony to the difficult road ahead.

If there was another reason, well – I guess I didn't really want to think about that, either. My relationship with Lee Stetson was very complicated.

I loved him with a passion I was only now beginning to comprehend, but it hadn't always been that way. In the beginning, I wasn't even sure if I liked him. The man had the most aggravatingly presumptuous air about him.

Of course, we had both changed a great deal since that fateful day when Scarecrow first met Mrs. King. The Lee I loved had always been there, buried beneath the layers of Scarecrow's insecurity, waiting to be set free. The same way I'd hidden behind the image of solid, dependable Amanda, divorced housewife and mother.

"Tell me, my dear," Lee's old flame Elisa Danton had whispered conspiratorially as she'd pulled me into her hospital room. "Are you the one who has clipped our Scarecrow's wings so thoroughly?"

I could feel her skepticism as her eyes did a casual inventory. She was recuperating from the aftereffects of smoke inhalation and a mild concussion, injuries she'd sustained while Lee was consulting with her on a case. For some inexplicable reason, my husband seemed to feel responsible. To hear him tell it, she was practically at death's door, but the woman who reclined regally on that narrow, institutional bed seemed bursting with vitality to me.

Of course I'd read about her in the society columns for years, but she was even more breathtaking in person. A carefully cultivated blend of sultry sexuality and a polished, woman-of-the-world air, topped off with impeccable good taste. As she calmly sipped her pirated champagne, her perfectly manicured fingernails tinkling lightly on the rim of her glass, I realized that those wild rumors floating around the water cooler had at least some basis in fact. She was exactly Lee's type.

He rescued me before Elisa's third degree progressed too far, a nervous grin plastered on his face, and the three of us spent the next hour exchanging pleasantries. Life in Arlington suddenly seemed hopelessly ordinary compared to the French Riviera and the glitz of Washington society. As we said our goodbyes, Elisa leaned in to whisper something appropriately witty in Lee's ear. The smile that spread across his face brought that queasy feeling back to the pit of my stomach.

I wondered if somewhere deep down inside, he missed the glamour and excitement of all the Elisa Dantons he'd known.

The uneasiness persisted on the ride home, and by the time we reached my house, I wanted nothing more than to escape behind my 'typically suburban' white picket fence. I reached for the car door, but Lee pulled me back, silencing my protest with a tender kiss.

"Thank you," he told me in a low voice, his hand cupping my cheek.

"For what?" I asked shakily, resting my hand on his.

"For showing me what's really important in life." He smiled, brushing my bangs aside so he could look clearly into my eyes. "Do you know what Elisa said to me as we left?"

I shook my head, a little afraid of the answer.

"She said, 'You're a lucky man, Scarecrow'. She was right." He pressed his lips to mine again, adding in a gravelly whisper, "I love you, Mrs. Stetson."

I sighed and closed my eyes, my nostrils filled with the lingering scent of my favorite aftershave. Life certainly was strange sometimes. I'd spent the entire afternoon feeling outclassed by the glamorously sexy Elisa Danton and all the time, she'd been the one envying me.

"I'm the lucky one," I whispered in return, pulling him closer. "And I love you, too."

* * *

I stepped inside my kitchen, shaking off the memories as I closed the back door.

"Hello?" I yelled to no one in particular. Except for the lone light burning in the den, the rooms were dark. Evidently Joe was late dropping the boys off, and Mother, once again, was nowhere to be found.

I flipped the switch by the wall, and the kitchen was bathed in light. That's when I spotted her note on the refrigerator.

'Amanda', she'd written. 'Out with Mr. Saunderson. Back later. Mother.'

It was something she'd say to a total stranger. Actually, a stranger would have gotten more information. Nothing in those few hastily scrawled words gave the slightest clue to what was really going on with her. If I didn't know better, I'd suspect she was leading a double life. Just like. . . Nah, I thought with a grin, it could never happen. Mother always avoided the train station, especially during the morning rush.

It's just that she had been acting so oddly since California. I couldn't figure it out. She'd been wonderful after I'd been shot; my rock to lean on, the way she'd always been all my life. I'd felt closer to her in that hospital room in California than I had in our own home in Virginia.

Maybe that was the heart of our problem. I knew I'd taken her for granted, brushing aside her comments about the long hours I put in at IFF. I really meant to spend more time with her, but then the telephone would inevitably ring and I would be off again, tossing her another implausible story. Which, for some unfathomable reason, she still seemed to believe.

Perhaps because of the special bond we'd shared when I was growing up. I was an only child, and Mother had put all of her energy into raising me. Even after I was a mother myself, that hadn't changed. The boys looked on her almost as if she was their second parent, especially with their father gone so much of the time. We weren't a family in the traditional sense, but we were a unit all the same. I really owed her a great deal.

That's why I hated lying to her, particularly about my personal relationship with Lee. I knew she hadn't bought that ridiculous cover story I'd fed her about our honeymoon. She certainly didn't seem surprised to discover we were together. Even though I'd obviously lied, she'd never once reproached me about it.

I didn't really expect to get off that easily, though. I knew once Mother returned home and had a little time to think, the inquisition would begin.

I braced myself for the onslaught that never came. If anything, she seemed strangely aloof. It wasn't like her at all, and her unaccustomed shortness hurt and confused me. I began to wonder if perhaps she might not be as thrilled with my relationship with Lee as she'd first appeared. My mother was actually a pretty liberated woman; a fact that had caused me no small amount of embarrassment on more than a few occasions. But maybe it was another matter entirely to see your only daughter practice what you preached.

I was certain things would soon revert to the status quo once we were all back on familiar ground, but they didn't. I returned from California only to find Mother a perplexing mass of contractions. On my first night home, she'd been absolutely wonderful, just like her old self. She'd made all my favorite foods and welcomed Lee with open arms. Then a few weeks later, she began acting strangely indifferent to both of us. She threw herself back in to her ground school classes with unbridled zeal, determined to be off exploring the wild blue yonder in short order. What's more, she absolutely refused to take a break from her studies, even to discuss something as important as Jamie's problems. Which, according to her, could be summed up in just two words.

Lee Stetson.

"Phillip adores him," Mother informed me when I assured her that they all got along just fine. "But I'm not so sure about Jamie. Do you remember how Mrs. Truesdale's younger son acted when she fell in love?"

"Yeah," I replied thoughtfully. "He was pretty jealous."

"I rest my case," she stated flatly, her eyes glued to the flight simulation on the small computer screen. She wouldn't even look at me.

That's the way it'd been with us ever since. At least I'd been able to talk to Jamie about his feelings, but my mother still remained an enigma. Sometimes I'd turn and catch her watching me out of the corner of her eye, then just as quickly, she would look away, muttering softly to herself as she left the room. Other times she acted as if she wanted to give me a piece of her mind, then thought better of it. As strange as it seemed, I missed the game of twenty questions we used to play about my personal life. At least back then I knew she cared. Now. . .

The front door closed with a bang and I heard the boys' voices in the foyer. "Fellas, what did I say about slamming the door?"

"Sorry, Mom," Phillip called as they both thundered into the den, Joe trailing behind at a more decorous pace.

"Didn't mean to be late," he said with a smile. "We stopped for a bite to eat after the movie and some of Phillip's friends were there. . ." He shrugged his shoulders apologetically.

"Not a problem," I told him pleasantly. "I was just sitting here reading."

"Alone?" Jamie inquired, looking around the room curiously as he perched beside me on the arm of the sofa.

"All by myself," I assured him quickly. He seemed disappointed. He adjusted his glasses, the way he always did when he had something on his mind.

"How was the movie?" I asked, giving his knee a casual squeeze.

"It was okay. Phillip wanted to see 'Cheerleader Camp' but Dad said no."

"And I'm in total agreement," I added, tossing the throw pillow in his brother's direction.

Phillip laughed as he ducked into the chair, the pillow landing behind him with a soft thud. "Yeah, I couldn't get Lee to take us either."

I turned in time to see Joe quickly look away. As he stared distantly at the kitchen counter, I cleared my throat, concentrating my attention on the boys. "Okay, guys, time to hit the sack. You still have school tomorrow."

"Can we get a snack first?" Jamie asked.

"May we have a snack," I corrected automatically, while Joe faced his son in dismay, adding with a laugh, "I just fed you, how can you possibly be hungry?"

"That was an hour ago, Dad," Phillip exclaimed, as if that explained it all.

"Besides," Jamie teased, "he gave most of his pizza to Cindy Johnson."

"She was hungry, Worm Brain."

"Don't call your brother names," Joe and I said in unison. Laughing, I glanced at Joe. "Go on, guys, get your snack while I walk your dad out."

The boys sprinted for the kitchen, their mumbled goodbyes lost as their heads disappeared into the refrigerator. Joe and I walked silently to the door, pausing on the front step to say goodnight.

"Phillip sure is growing up fast," Joe remarked, turning towards me with a nostalgic smile.

"It's hard to believe he's going to be in high school in a few months." I folded my arms across my chest, watching as Joe shifted his weight from side to side. I could always tell when he had something on his mind.

"The boys seemed to have a good time on their weekend with Lee."

"Yeah, they all did," I replied, wondering where this was headed. I'd been thrilled when Lee had suggested that he take the boys on his own. I was working on an assignment for Beeman's class at the time and couldn't break away.

"Do you think it was wise?" Joe asked brusquely. "Letting them go off on their own?"

"They were fine, Joe," I told him, biting back the ruder response that sprang to mind. When he'd been half a world away, he didn't have the first idea about where I let his sons go or with whom. I found it more than a little annoying that he suddenly seemed so concerned.

"What's this really all about?" I asked suddenly. "I don't recall objecting when Carrie was over here all the time while I was recuperating in California."

"I don't have any objections to Lee," he returned defensively. "He seems like a great guy, and the boys certainly like him. It's his job that concerns me."

"As I recall, that job helped you out last year. . . and protected our sons from your enemies."

"I know that, Amanda, and believe me, I'm grateful. But that's just it. Trouble seems to go hand in hand with his – your – business. Look what happened to the two of you on your vacation."

I sighed, lightly fingering the small diamonds on my heart pendant. Since my accident, Joe had become very protective of his family. He'd given Lee a pretty hard time when I'd been out in California with Mother. I understood his concerns, but maybe it was time he understood mine, too.

"It wasn't a vacation, Joe," I began.

"Well, trip, interlude, whatever you two want to call it. . ."

"We generally refer to it as our honeymoon."

His head jerked up, his eyes focused tightly on mine. "Your honeymoon?"

I nodded. "Such as it was, anyway. Lee and I eloped in February."

We stood on the step, the minutes lengthening, and I was suddenly reminded of the day we'd signed the final divorce papers. There had been that same awkward silence as we'd left the lawyer's office, both of us knowing that our lives had irrevocably altered course. We still cared about each other - that would never change. We just didn't know how to get past the moment into the new relationship that lay ahead.

I heard Joe take a deep breath. "I didn't realize you were that serious. I should have," he stammered, his eyes fixed on a spot just over my shoulder. "I mean, when I found out you weren't in California on business. I know you don't take things like that lightly. It's just. . ." He exhaled loudly, rubbing the back of his neck absently as he looked up and finally caught my eye. "You haven't told anyone?"

"No," I answered, feeling more than a little guilty. "I intended to tell you, Joe, I really did - that day at lunch last January. You were so excited about your own engagement and. . . well, I just didn't know how."

"Why all the secrecy, Amanda?" he asked, his brows knit together in a frown. "If you love each other enough to get married. . ."

"For the same reasons you just mentioned. Our jobs, the boys – it seemed like a good idea at the time, but now. . ." I took a deep breath, the look on Lee's face as I'd left him earlier indelibly stamped on my mind. "We're still trying to deal with the aftershocks of what happened – my accident, work, the family. . . I haven't even told Mother any of this."

"Whew," he whistled, shaking his head.

"Yeah," I sighed.

"Where do you two go from here?" he asked gently. "I know you, Amanda, I know what you want from marriage. And it's not a part time husband. Across an ocean or across town – it all boils down to the same thing."

I laughed lightly. "How did you get so smart all of a sudden?"

"I wouldn't call it sudden. It only took me fifteen years and a lot of painful soul searching to figure things out."

I looked into the eyes of the man I'd known almost half my life and smiled. "Carrie's a lucky woman, Joe," I whispered softly.

"So is Lee." He reached his arms out, and I gratefully accepted his hug. "You know I only want the best for you," he murmured as I rested my head on his shoulder. "And you know I'll keep your secret. I just hope that it doesn't have to be for too long."

"Me, too." I sighed, breaking the embrace, and took a step away from him. "Thank you for being so great about everything. I didn't mean to tell you all this on the front doorstep. . ."

"Well," he grinned, "I vaguely recall asking you not to drop that particular bombshell over lunch, so I guess a doorstep is as good a place as any." He leaned in to kiss me. "Tell the boys I'll talk to them later in the week."

"Goodbye, Joe," I said, waving as I watched him walk to his car. I headed back inside, not too surprised to find the boys dawdling in the kitchen.

"Yeah, but it was the sixth time," Phillip joked, cramming the last bites of his sandwich into him mouth.

"Carrie kept asking if we'd been fitted for our tuxes," Jamie explained with a grin as he saw me. "I think they're getting nervous about the wedding."

"Give her a break," I told them. "Getting married is a frightening thing."

"I guess," Phillip laughed, "but I'm taking Lee's suggestion and playing the field."

"I'd say at fourteen, that's a pretty wise decision, Phillip." I smiled at my very grown up son, images of black books and little symbols running rampant in my head. I made a mental note to ask my husband exactly what kind of advice he'd been handing out.

"Okay, guys," I cajoled, clearing away the remainder of their feast. "It's time to hit the sack. It's not quite vacation yet, you know."

"Aww, Mom," Phillip grumbled, dutifully heading for the stairs.

Jamie lingered behind for a second, fiddling with his glasses for a moment. "You know, Lee was just kidding when he said it was good to play the field," he assured me solemnly. "He didn't mean anything by it."

"I'm sure he didn't," I agreed, touched by his new desire to defend Lee. They had certainly made giant strides towards friendship in the last month.

"Goodnight, Mom," Jamie called and we exchanged smiles. He stopped before he reached the stairs, turning back to give me quick hug and kiss. Then, barely concealing his embarrassment over actually expressing affection for his mother, he bolted for his room.

* * *

"I can't believe you actually brought me here." I caught my husband's eye from across the table. Work had been especially hectic this week, with Lee wading through the backlog of cases in the Q-Bureau. Things had really piled up during his two-week 'Trojan Horse' hiatus, as we joking referred to the paid vacation he'd wrangled from Dr. Smyth after he and Francine had exposed Chernov's frame-up.

"I thought Emelio's was your favorite?" he asked, tossing aside the dessert menu.

"Oh, it is," I grinned. "It's just that when you said lunch, I kinda thought you had something else in mind." Our noontime excursions usually ended up at Lee's apartment, where he'd introduced me to his sure-fire recipe for the perfect meal - three parts lovemaking, one part 'lunchmaking'. I wondered how we'd ever lived without it.

I could see his thoughts were similarly engaged as he flashed me his sexiest smile. "Well, I was starting to feel a little guilty," he explained, self-consciously clearing his throat. "I think our, ah, 'lunches' are keeping you from getting your strength back. So I decided to actually feed you today."

"Hey, did you hear me complaining, Stetson?"

"No," he answered with an embarrassed grin, reaching out to take my hand in his. "But you still haven't gained back that weight you lost from the accident." I shivered as his thumb gently caressed my knuckles. Lee had wonderful fingers, long and thin. Sexy. Almost as beautiful as his eyes. I struggled to concentrate on what he was saying, not what he was doing.

"I worry about you, that's all."

I looked at him curiously. "Is that what all those little snacks of yours have been about?" I asked, his new fondness for the fattening desserts he insisted we share suddenly making perfect sense.

"Maybe," he responded, not quite meeting my eye. "Ever since California, you've been too thin, Amanda."

"Well, cheesecake and full course dinners in the middle of the afternoon aren't the answer."

"I've noticed," he laughed. "My plan appears to be a total loss. You haven't gained an ounce, but I think I've put on five pounds."

I smiled as he loosened his belt. "I do have a remedy for that."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Exercise, Scarecrow, exercise."

"That's a tempting offer," he rejoined, glancing quickly around the room before bringing my hand to his lips. "But I have to meet Sally Wong in about an hour."

"One of your family?" I tried and failed to hide my concern.

Once again, he seemed to read my mind. "It's nothing serious, really. Besides, Francine's going with me."

"I really wish you'd let me help you, Lee," I told him, annoyed that he'd enlisted Francine's assistance yet again. "I am your partner, after all."

"Not until you're cleared for full field duty," he reminded me with a mischievous grin. "Which won't happen unless you eat."

"You are the most annoying man," I grumbled, unable to keep the exasperation from creeping into my voice. "I'm honestly doing the best I can. The only time I've ever been able to put on weight was when I was pregnant. Then I resembled a beached whale. Believe me, that you wouldn't want to see."

"I don't know," he whispered softly. "Maybe I wouldn't mind." His voice had a wistful tone I'd never heard before, and there was a look in his eyes that could almost be described as longing.

"Are you serious?" I asked skeptically, not quite sure how I felt about the subject. We'd never really talked about having a baby, and I guess on some level, I hadn't let myself think that Lee really wanted a family of his own. Or what it would mean to my career if he did.

"Yeah," he answered with an embarrassed laugh, "I guess maybe I am." He looked away, unwilling to meet my eye.

I studied my coffee cup, frowning as I noted that the gilt edging on the rim was chipped in three places. "How long have you been thinking about this?"

"It's been on my mind for a while." I heard him exhale loudly. I didn't need to look up to know that his hand was nervously smoothing his perfectly combed hair or that the carefully masked anxiety had crept back into his eyes. "I've had a lot of time alone to think lately, Amanda."

I sighed, knowing exactly where the conversation was headed. This really had nothing to do with whether or not we should have a child. It had everything to do with the frustrating limitations imposed by our mystery marriage.

"We should talk about this," I told him, resting my head wearily against the back of the booth.

"We do nothing but talk," he mumbled, still refusing to look at me. "Maybe it's time we actually did something about it."

His tone stung me. "I know things aren't the way we want them to be right now," I responded defensively, "but it won't always be that way." We were quickly reaching our usual impasse. I could detect the same frustration I'd heard in his voice a few weeks ago when Billy had ordered him to New York and ruined our carefully planned weekend. I reached across the table to gently rub his arm. "It's just going to take some time."

"If you say so." He rose abruptly, shaking off my hand to rifle through his pockets. "But I don't have time for this now. I have to get ready for my meet." He removed some folded bills, depositing them on the table in a careless heap. "I'll try to call you later."

"Lee. . ." I began, not wanting to end our wonderful lunch this way. Despite our intimacy, Lee was still a master at avoiding confrontation when he wanted to be.

"Later, okay?" he said, his clipped words plainly stating that he'd already slipped into work-mode. "Francine's waiting."

He headed for the door without so much as a goodbye glance. And I was left with the remains of a lunch for which I had no appetite and a memory of the times I'd been the one heading off with him instead of Francine.

Life wasn't the way either one of us wanted it to be these days. And I didn't have the slightest clue how to even begin to fix it.

* * *

It was late when I finally headed for bed. The boys and I had gone out for pizza to celebrate their baseball team's fourth consecutive win, and it had taken them a while to settle down for the night. Even my usual threats about unfinished homework fell on deaf ears. A sure sign that summer was just around the corner.

I tried calling Lee a few times, but he either wasn't home, or he was letting the machine pick up. I toyed briefly with heading over there, but Mother was out again, and I didn't expect her back until late. I resigned myself to wait until morning, the uneasy feeling I'd been fighting growing stronger as the evening wore on.

It followed me into my dreams. I was back at UVA, about to take my final exams when I suddenly realized that I had never attended a single class. My panic grew stronger as the exam proctor rapped his knuckles on the desk, calling the group to order. If only he would stop that annoying knocking. . .

I sat up in a sleepy daze as I suddenly realized the sound was coming from outside. Exhaling in relief, I jumped out of bed, stopping to shut my bedroom door on the way to the window. It was stuck again, and I could hear Lee venting his frustration as I pried it open.

"Watch out," I warned as he awkwardly stumbled through the small opening.

"Damn that thing," he muttered as he almost fell inside, grabbing the knee he'd banged against the windowsill.

"Could you please be quiet? You'll wake the entire house." I was half asleep and still a little annoyed by his behavior at lunch. "What are you doing here, anyway?" I hissed, heading back to bed.

"I, ah. . . I don't really know. I was just driving, and suddenly I ended up over here."

His hastily whispered words caused goose bumps to break out on my arms. I could hear his uneven breathing from across the room, and I instantly knew this had nothing to do with the silly difference of opinion we'd had earlier. I switched on the light.

"What happened?"

His eye caught mine, his lips pursed tightly together. "Sally Wong was killed tonight."

"Oh, Lee. . . I'm so sorry."

I wanted to comfort him, but I wasn't sure how. Lee had lost so many people in his life, the usual words hackneyed from overuse. In the end, I simply crossed the room, wrapping my arms tightly around him as I drew him close.

He retuned the embrace, leaning in to rest his forehead wearily against my shoulder for a moment before pulling back to look at me. The pain in his eyes tugged at my heart. I pulled him against me again, holding him until his breathing began to relax and I felt the tension leave his body. Then, taking his hand, I slowly led him to the bed.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

He sat quietly beside me, hesitant, almost apprehensive. My hand still rested in his, his fingers tenderly tracing mine as the words spilled out. "It was Brody, Amanda. He's reactivated his network. That's what Sally wanted to tell me this afternoon. They found her tonight a block from M street with a bullet in her head. It had to be the Death Broker. He must have found out about the meeting somehow. . . " He ran his hand though his hair, his fingers clenching around the last strands before he finally let go. "I don't know," he added quietly, "maybe I wasn't as careful as I should have been. . ."

I tilted his chin up, forcing him to look at me. "You know that's ridiculous," I told him, my hand soothing his brow. "You didn't put that bullet in her head."

"I may as well have. She was part of my family, Amanda. My responsibility."

"You didn't force her to be your contact. She knew the risk she was taking. She did it for the same reason we do – she wanted to make a difference."

He raised his eyebrows skeptically. "Tell that to her family. She had three children and two grandchildren. You didn't have to look at their faces when they heard the news."

"I know," I whispered, wondering whose faces he'd really seen tonight – Sally's family or our own. Lee had faced this situation many times in the past, but having someone of your own to lose made everything more personal. This family stuff was still virgin territory to him.

"Come here," I whispered, giving his shirt a gentle tug. He allowed me to pull him down on the bed, and I took him in my arms, cradling his head against my chest. "You're freezing, Lee," I gasped, for the first time noticing how cold he felt. I shivered myself as I ran my hands vigorously across his back.

"I gave my jacket to Sally's daughter," he said simply.

"Get under the covers, and let's get you warmed up."

He nodded, kicking off his shoes as he slipped beneath the quilt. I reached to turn out the light, glancing questioningly at him. He had finally told me that tale of his week in the Istanbul catacombs, and I understood why the dark still bothered him on occasion.

He smiled at my hesitation. "I'm okay as long as you're here," he sighed, and I knew he was talking about more than simply the light.

I settled down beside him and we held each other tightly, the darkness no longer an enemy because we were together. We rested in each other's arms, each drawing quiet comfort from the other. Words weren't necessary, and I automatically slowed my breathing to match his. The perfectly synchronized rise and fall of our chests produced a feeling of intimacy that was deeply comforting.

We lay that way for a while, my head in the crook of his neck, his hand gently rubbing my back. Soon I noticed a subtle change to his rhythmic stoking, his fingers creeping lower on every pass. I shifted uneasily in his arms. Lifting my head, I started to remind him that Mother and the boys were right down the hall when I encountered his mouth. His kiss quickly turned passionate, and I could feel the familiar fire beginning to build.

"Oh, Amanda," he whispered in shaky tones before I could protest. "I need you so badly." His lips covered mine again, his tongue darting into my mouth. I tried to think of a good reason for him to stop doing what he was doing, but I couldn't come up with one. My own need to offer him the physical comfort he so desperately wanted was just as great. It was amazing how quickly our natural responses had altered in the brief months since our marriage. Before, words alone would have sufficed; now, our bodies demanded our physical union as well.

His hands moved quickly over my body, his touch insistent. I responded in kind, making quick work on the buttons of his shirt, my lips pressing against the smooth flesh of his chest. I felt his fingers trace the curve of my hip, and my breathing quickened as my mouth sought his again.

When he finally broke the kiss, we were both breathing hard. He shrugged out of his shirt, tossing it by the side of the bed. I heard the distinctive sound of a zipper opening, and I quickly pulled off my nightgown as Lee rid himself of the rest of his clothes. Our lips met again, and I moaned against his mouth, the way I did every time I felt his skin next to mine.

"Shh," he admonished, his fingers tangling in my hair. "They'll hear us."

I pulled back, laughter and disbelief mixing as I looked at him. "You picked a fine time to remember that, Stetson."

The urgency that had driven our actions instantly dissolved. He looked into my eyes, his harsh breathing slowing to a normal rhythm. Reaching up, he used his hands to brush the hair from my face before tenderly resting them on my cheeks. "I'm sorry," he said in a low voice.

"For what? " I answered softly.

"For everything," he replied, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead. "For barging in here in the middle of the night, for 'sweeping you off your feet' like that. . ."

"Oh, that," I grinned. "That was my pleasure. Well, almost."

I heard his quiet laugh as he pulled me against him. "Damn, I really needed to see you tonight. Sometimes. . ."

"What?" I whispered, softly encouraging him.

"This job. . . it can just be so. . ."

" So. . ." I prompted again, trying to decipher exactly what he was trying to tell me.

"I don't know," he mumbled almost indistinctly against my hair. "I've spent so many years out on there, trying to make a difference because I thought I could. But nothing ever seems to change. It's like plugging your fingers in a dike; you stop one leak, and before you know it, another one pops up."

I sighed against his chest, my fingers gently stroking his biceps. "You sound suspiciously like you want to quit, Scarecrow."

"Quit the Agency? No." He tightened his embrace, almost as if he needed something to hold on to. "Quit the field? Maybe."

"I can't believe I'm hearing you say that."

"Remember what you told me when Paul Barnes left, Amanda? Even the great ones have to know when to call it quits? I think maybe it's time."

"Is this because of me?" I asked guardedly. "Because of what happened on our honeymoon?"

"Partly, maybe." I felt his lips brush through my hair. "Yeah, what happened scared me, but it's more than that. It's Dr. Smyth sitting in my office, ordering me to do 'whatever it takes' to get information from Elisa Danton. It's telling Sally's family what happened to her tonight. It's that feeling of helplessness when Birol had you, knowing I couldn't do a damn thing about it. It's the detachment that's necessary to work the field properly - detachment I don't have anymore. Or even want."

I looked up, turning his head towards mine. "I'm not sure I have it, either, you know."

He leaned closer, gently kissing me. "I'm sorry about the way I acted at lunch."

"It's okay." I felt the tender touch of his fingers against my skin, and I burrowed deeper into his embrace.

"It's not okay. I'm sorry for suggesting this ridiculous mystery marriage in the first place, then complaining all the time because we can't be together. I know I'm not being fair. I do love you, you know, even if I'm not around to say it as often as I'd like."

"I really do understand," I whispered, my foot moving soothingly along the length of his calf. "It's hard for me, too. But at least I have Mother and the boys. You're the one who's been left on the outside here."

He silently acknowledged the truth of that statement, and I felt his arms tighten around me. I snuggled against him, the warmth of our bodies momentarily dissolving the cold reality of our separate lives. His heart beat steadily against my ear, and I lay there listening to the comforting sound until I couldn't stay still any longer. Turning, I kissed him deeply, opening my mouth as I pressed my lips to his.

"Amanda," he warned in a whisper, struggling to sit up. "Your mother and the boys. . ."

"Are safely down the hall," I responded, pushing my earlier concern to the back of my mind as I rolled on top of him. I lowered my mouth to his, nibbling lightly against his lips. "You started this, now I intend to finish it. And besides," I told him tenderly, "I love you, too."

He leaned forward, capturing my mouth again, his kiss filled with tenderness this time as well as desire. I could always tell exactly what Lee was feeling by the way his lips touched mine. That he could convey so much with something as simple as a kiss never ceased to amaze me. Maybe it was because we'd both loved each other long before we'd ever allowed ourselves that luxury.

His lips enveloped mine again, and I sighed, surrendering myself to the sensation. He opened my mouth with his tongue, closing his arms around me as he rolled us over. His body pressed familiarly against mine, the bed creaking slightly as he shifted his weight. He stopped abruptly, startled by the sound, and pulled back to look at me with a slightly puzzled expression.

"What?" I gasped, slightly breathless and more than a little frustrated.

"Does this seem strange to you?" he asked, his own voice roughened with the desire he seemed bent on extinguishing.

"Your constant mood breakers?" I teased. "Now that you mention it. . ."

"No, I mean 'this' . . . you, me, here in your bedroom." He shifted his weight to his left side, leaning his head against his hand as he looked down into my eyes. "I just realized this is the first time we've ever made love in this house. . ."

His words trailed off, but I knew what he meant. In this house I'd once shared with Joe. I started to give him a flip answer, but something in his eyes stopped me. I suddenly remembered the insecurities I'd felt on our wedding night. In retrospect, they seemed so silly, but at the time, they had been very real. I knew my history with Joe was as difficult for him as his past was for me.

"We both have ghosts to deal with, Lee," I told him gently. "Is it really so different from your apartment?"

"But that's why I moved last summer," he told me in a quiet voice. "I didn't want us to have any unwelcome reminders. And I think maybe that's part of the reason I had the house-hunting bug last November. You know, before all this secrecy nonsense started."

I remembered it all too well. At the time, his plans had been a little overwhelming, but right now softball games with the boys in our own backyard seemed pretty appealing to me, too. Somehow every conversation led us right back to the same point, and I sighed, wondering how we could ever hope to crawl out from underneath the tangled mess of our good intentions.

"I don't know," I told him truthfully, answering both his spoken and unspoken questions. "Maybe it should seem strange, but it doesn't. It's been a long time since Joe and I shared this house. And even when we did, he was here so seldom. . . sometimes I felt like he was just visiting in our lives, you know?"

He nodded, a slight frown crossing his brow, and I reached up, smoothing the lines with my finger. "This room has some pretty good memories for us, too," I whispered. "As I recall, we were both standing right over there when we said 'I love you' for the first time. That seems more real to me now than anything that happened more years ago than I can count."

"I believe you were staring at a bowl of tutti-frutti when I told you that for the first time," he joked, rubbing his body tantalizingly against me, the somber mood broken at last.

"Phone calls don't count." My arms encircled his neck, pulling him closer. "Now, do you want to continue this conversation," I asked in my most tempting voice, "or make some new memories of our own?"

His face broke out in a smile, the one that always reduced me to a puddle of jelly. "Not another word," he murmured as his lips covered mine. "I promise."

"I intend to hold you to that," I whispered, pushing him down on the mattress. Pressing my lips against his chest, I kissed him again and again. I could feel him shifting restlessly and I paused for the briefest of seconds, our eyes meeting in perfect understanding. Then, determined to drive all coherent thought from my husband's mind once and for all, I slid the tip of my tongue across his flesh. His response was immediate, and I closed my eyes, all the ghosts finally evaporating for both of us. I could tell the effect I was having by the way his body tensed, and I heard him struggle to stifle his usually vocal reaction.

His hands gripped my arms, stilling my movements and pulling me astride him. His fingers brushed over my skin, pausing slightly as he encountered the permanent reminder of our honeymoon. I heard his quick intake of breath as he traced my scar with light, loving strokes. Even in the shadowy darkness, I couldn't mistake the love on his face.

I bent low over him, and our lips met again in a slow, open-mouthed kiss that set my soul on fire. Every sensation seemed heightened – the erotic sound of his quickened breathing, the scratch of his beard against my cheek, the faint scent that was unmistakably Lee. I wanted him so badly, needed to be part of him; it was almost as essential as breathing.

"I love you, Lee," I murmured breathlessly when we were finished, and his arms quickly enfolded me.

"Oh, Amanda," he whispered, his lips against my forehead, my body nestled close against the warm protection of his chest. I sighed contentedly, filled with the pure joy that our lovemaking always brought. I hated the lonely nights, the cold emptiness of the bed we couldn't share. I sighed again, wishing he didn't have to go. I shut my eyes for just a second, idly wondering how much it would cost to soundproof my bedroom walls. . .

* * *

"Phillip, give that back to me!"

"You'll have to catch me first, Worm Brain."

The usual sounds of the boys' morning routine reached me from a distance. I must have overslept again, I thought drowsily as I nestled deeper under the covers. I'd always been the first one up in our household, but ever since California, more than a few mornings had found me clinging to the edges of sleep.

"Did you take my math homework?"

"No," came his brother's muffled reply. "Check your gym bag, that's where you usually keep it." He sounded like he had a mouthful of toothpaste. It must be later than I thought if they were already in the bathroom.

"Jamie, I'm not kidding." Phillip's voice rose a few decibels, and I debated whether or not it was time to play peacemaker. I yawned and stretched, rolling over on my back as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I bumped up against something under the covers and I reached out tentatively.

"Lee," I exclaimed in horror, last night flashing through my head with perfect clarity. "You're still here?!"

"Hmm?" he murmured, his arm automatically reaching out to pull me against him.

"You've got to get out of here," I hissed. "If Mother or the boys find you. . . oh, my gosh, I'll never talk my way out of it."

"I'm sorry," he told me in a strangled whisper, the reality of the situation dawning. "I don't know what happened. The last thing I remember, I was about to get up and leave."

"I know, I only meant to close my eyes for a minute, too." I looked at Lee, the sheepish expression on his face making me smile in spite of the circumstances. We really were a unique pair; it wasn't every husband who had to apologize for waking up in the same bed as his wife. "They'll be downstairs in a minute. Then you can. . ."

"Give it back, Phillip, it's mine," Jamie yelled, his voice perilously close to my door.

"You don't need aftershave, stupid," Phillip teased. "You haven't got anything to shave."

"Like you do," Jamie returned. "Come on, Phillip. Lee gave it to me."

"You gave him aftershave?" I whispered, raising an eyebrow as I fought the urge to smile.

Lee shrugged. "Seemed like a good idea at the time."

"I'm telling Mom," Jamie finished loudly. We both froze, and I could hear his footsteps getting closer. I was frantically thinking how I could even begin to explain this when my mother's voice intervened.

"Jamie, Phillip, leave your mother alone. She needs her rest. Come on, get dressed, the two of you, before you're late for school and I skin you alive."

Grumbling, the boys headed off down the hall, and Lee and I heaved a joint sigh of relief. "That was a close one," he moaned, leaning back against the pillow.

"Too close," I concurred, closing my eyes. "It's a good thing Mother appeared when she did. It's almost as if. . . Lee," I asked quickly, a sudden thought occurring to me. "Where did you park your car?"

"Around the block. Don't worry, no one saw it."

"Maybe." Mother's timing seemed almost too good to be true.

His hand reached out for mine, pushing the uneasy thoughts from my head. We so seldom started the day together like this. The last time had been just before our return from California. That night we'd made love for the first time since my accident. I remembered how self-conscious I'd been about my scar, but Lee had made everything truly beautiful. He'd been so tender and careful of me; I couldn't remember ever feeling more loved or wanted.

His thumb grazed the palm of my hand, and I sighed. "You've got to get going," I told him sadly, hating to end the moment.

"I know. Why don't you go downstairs and distract them, and I'll make my escape through the window."

"Okay." The grin on his face was contagious, and I felt myself smile in return. "Just watch out for the neighbors – Mrs. Gilstrap has eagle eyes and a big mouth."

"Amanda, I've avoided terrorists, arms dealers and the KGB. I think I can slip past one old lady."

"Don't be so sure, Scarecrow," I laughed. "If the KGB had her on their side, we'd all be speaking Russian."

I bent over to retrieve my robe when he pulled me back. Leaning across the bed, he touched his lips tenderly to mine. "Thank you for last night, Mrs. Stetson." Winking, he rolled away, quickly pulling on his jeans. I caught a fleeting glimpse of his backside as I started for the door.

Now that was a sight I wouldn't mind seeing every morning, I thought as I headed into the kitchen to run my avoidance pattern.

No, I wouldn't mind at all.

* * *

I clung to that memory when Brody upped the stakes, eliminating yet another member of Lee's family. His guilt multiplied exponentially, and his desire to get Brody spiraled into a full-fledged obsession. I stood by helplessly as he slipped back beneath that mask of smooth detachment he'd cultivated for so many years.

He didn't seem able to think about anything else. His single-mindedness infuriated Francine, angered Billy and frustrated me. He stubbornly refused to let me help him, rejecting my offers at every turn. He still clung to the image of that pier in California, and I didn't know how to convince him that he didn't need to shield me any longer.

The boys missed him, too, and even Mother interrupted her busy schedule long enough to ask me if everything was okay. Of course, I had a feeling she'd really wanted to discuss those little items that had somehow found their way into our laundry. Evidently, Lee had left a few essentials behind that morning in his mad dash down the trellis. A sock I could explain, but those boxers were another story entirely.

I was relieved when she offered to take the boys away for the weekend. Soon their summer activities would click into high gear, and there wouldn't be time. If Mother had another reason for wanting to leave town, she didn't say so. But I had the distinct impression that there was something weighing on her mind. I promised myself to get to the bottom of it once and for all when she returned.

I was really looking forward to their trip. Lee had finally wrapped his case, Brody was in jail and my husband was back where he belonged, with me. I couldn't wait to be Mrs. Stetson for an entire, uninterrupted weekend - the first since our marriage. When Mother called to let me know they were going to be staying in the mountains for another day, it felt like Christmas.

Unfortunately, there turned out to be a fly in the otherwise smooth ointment. For some reason, we seemed to be getting on each other's nerves. I suddenly noticed that Lee had the oddest habits – I mean, waterproof or not, who leaves their watch on the bathroom counter? And why would you want to run into the bedroom to retrieve your car keys, when the logical spot for them is clearly by the door? Not to mention that annoying little noise he made when he was drying his hair. . .

He seemed to think I had a few peculiarities of my own. Over six pages of them, in fact, front and back. Reading his endless list of my supposed faults, I began to wonder why he'd even wanted to marry me in the first place. I was just leaving him a note to that effect when he sauntered through the door, making an elaborate point of dropping his keys on the shelf.

He made some inane small talk about Harry Thornton while I kept my eyes glued to my paper. He stopped in front of me, his hands nervously clutching something out of my line of sight.

"Do you have flowers behind your back?" I inquired in a slightly injured tone, hoping he didn't think he could worm his way out of this one with another bouquet.

"No." He slowly approached my chair, handing me a pad with some writing on it.

"More complaints?" I asked, making an effort to resist that Stetson charm that was already beginning to slip through the cracks.

"No," he smiled. "It's a list of all the things that I love about you." He knelt in front of me, his face level with mine. He leaned in to kiss me, but I stopped him, my finger on his lips.

"It better be a long list," I admonished before finally succumbing to that smile.

His lips caressed mine, and I felt myself forgive him, especially when he shifted them tantalizing close to my ear. "I'm sorry I was such a jerk," he whispered, teasing my lobe with his teeth. "And I swear I'll put my watch and keys anywhere you want."

"I'll settle for you keeping your clothes in your own dyer," I laughed, my lips on his neck, trying to remember why I'd been so angry before. His lips sought mine again and we indulged in a few make-up kisses. I knew we needed to talk about what had really been bothering us. The truth was neither one of us had wanted to stop being Mr. and Mrs. Stetson once the weekend was over, and it was easier to pick a fight than to deal with the real issue. Just as it was easier to let his lips do the talking right now. Sighing, I suggested we take this into the other room.

He pulled away, offering me his most charming grin. "Um, I'd love to," he began, "but I, ah, promised Harry and Christina we'd have dinner with them."

Lee's friend and mentor Harry Thornton had finally been reunited with his long lost love, a Russian woman by the name of Christina Golytzin. "We're supposed to meet them at Emelio's in fifteen minutes," he added, flashing me that smile again.

"You were pretty sure of yourself, weren't you, Stetson?" I teased, pushing him away as I rose from my chair. "Maybe that's an item for my list."

"A complaint," he grinned, "or is that one of the reasons you love me?"

"I'm still debating," I laughed. "Come on, let's get going. If we're lucky, we can eat fast and still have time to come back here for dessert."

* * *

June arrived with remarkable speed, and I was finally cleared to return to the field. I'd been on light duty for almost three months, and I was looking forward to being back with my partner full time. Lee, on the other hand, didn't seem as enthusiastic. I knew he was glad to have me sitting across from him every day again in the Q-Bureau, but at the same time I could sense his frustration. The restrictions of our mystery marriage still chafed, and he grumbled that he'd rather kiss me goodnight in our bedroom than good morning in our office.

I knew we had some big decisions ahead. Making our relationship public would effect every part of our lives – but especially work. It had taken a long time to earn the respect of my co-workers, of people like Francine Desmond. I wasn't sure what my status would be if Lee and I were unable to continue our partnership.

It wasn't always easy being Scarecrow's protégé. My career had always seemed irrevocably linked to his. Maybe it was finally time to discover if 'Mrs. King' could make it on her own.

As for the home front - I didn't even know how to begin to unravel the mess I'd created there. I constantly wrestled with what to tell my Mother. Then there were the boys. . . Phillip and Jamie were both at such a difficult stage, not quite grown up, yet wanting to be. I hated to tarnish their new relationship with Lee by tainting its beginning.

I found Jamie in the den reading when I got home. Lee had been in a meeting with Billy all afternoon, and I'd taken the long route, trying to sort things through in my head. Driving always seemed to clear Lee's mind, but I only seemed more confused than ever.

"Where is everyone?" I asked as I sat beside my youngest son. There was no sign of Phillip or my mother.

"Grandma's out with Captain Curt," he informed me, marking his place as he closed the covers of his book. "I'm supposed to tell you that she'll be back late."

"That's one accounted for," I laughed. "Where's your brother? At Cindy's house?"

"No, Lee came by and took him out," he told me quietly. "They'll be back later, too."

"You didn't want to go?" Jamie and Lee had been getting along really well, and I hated to see his old insecurities cropping up again. Not when we were so close to ending this charade.

"Actually, I called him," Jamie said, his finger drumming on the cover of the book. "I know we're only supposed to use your work number for emergencies," he added quickly, "but Phillip was pretty upset and Grandma said it would be okay."

"It's all right, Jamie," I assured him. The boys were aware that IFF was a government agency and, as such, had stringent security measures, even if they were still in the dark about their true purpose. They never abused their phone privileges, so if Jamie had called Lee, then something was definitely wrong. "Tell me what's going on."

"Dad called Phillip tonight," he began, pushing his glasses back up across the bridge of his nose. "He can't come to Phillip's graduation – he has to be in New York on business."

"I see." I knew how important that was to Phillip. He was going to be receiving one of the all-conference athletic awards at the ceremony and he'd been talking about nothing else for a week.

"I thought he needed some attention," he finished, putting his book down on the table beside him. "So I called Lee. I stayed home 'cause I thought Phillip might feel more like talking if I wasn't there. He was really upset."

Jamie's sensitivity never ceased to amaze me, and I ruffled his hair the way I used to when he was little. "You're a pretty good brother, you know that?"

"Aw, Mom," he replied, but I could tell he was secretly pleased. He took a deep breath, then looked at me hesitantly. "I was kind of mad at Dad, too. I don't understand him sometimes."

"I know," I sighed. "Sometimes it's hard to understand why people do some of the things they do. But you know your Dad loves you both."

He nodded. "Grandma said the same thing."

"She did?"

"Yeah. She said sometimes people do things that hurt you, and you can't understand why. But if you love them, you have to believe that they have a good reason and that someday it will make sense to you."

Tears unexpectedly filled my eyes. "Your Grandmother's a very wise woman," I told my son in a low voice. Taking a deep breath, I added, "Hey, since it's just the two of us, how about if I order a pizza?"

"With pepperoni and bacon?" he asked hopefully.

"If you insist," I grimaced. Lee had evidently found another convert for this bizarre topping combination. I guess it could have been worse; at least he didn't ask for a bottle of Beaujolais to go with it.

* * *

It was almost nine when Lee and Phillip arrived home. They came bearing ice cream for all of us, and Phillip's mood seemed much improved. I looked questioningly at my husband but he only shrugged his shoulders. It would take a little time, but I knew my sons would both be okay. How could they lose with a stepfather like Lee? I was profoundly grateful for whatever twist of fate had brought him into all our lives.

I told him that after the boys went to their room, and for a moment he had the strangest expression on his face. Then I felt him relax beside me.

"You don't have to thank me," he smiled. "It's all part of being a family, right?" He leaned a little closer. "That," he whispered, "and this."

"What are you doing?" I asked, wiggling away as he leaned closer. The boys were just upstairs.

"Hold still," he laughed, his lips inches from my face. "You have ice cream on the tip of your very cute nose." I felt the warm caress of his tongue, and I laughed.

"All part of the service," he grinned, changing course and kissing me on the forehead.

I leaned into him, resting my head against his shoulder. "It's been quite a day," I sighed, my fingers rubbing his thigh.

"You don't know the half of it," he responded, pulling me against him. "Amanda, we need to talk. I was on my way over here anyway when Jamie called."

"Your meeting with Billy?" I asked, the hair on the back of my neck standing up. He nodded solemnly, and I felt my stomach clench. The last thing I needed to hear tonight was that Lee had an undercover assignment.

"Let's go for a walk," he suggested, glancing towards the stairs as he took my hand and pulling me up from the couch. "I don't want them to accidentally overhear us."

This didn't sound good. Yelling up to the boys, I followed him outside. Lee immediately reached for my hand as the door closed behind us, his eyes darting around the backyard.

"What?" I said, giving his hand a squeeze.

"I was just thinking about all those evenings I spent crouching in your bushes," he laughed. "It seems funny sometimes to come in through the front door. And I still have to fight the urge to duck every time I see your mother."

I grinned. "Spoken like a true son-in-law."

His arm came around my shoulder and mine automatically found his waist as we headed down the street. "There's been a development at work," he told me soberly. "Billy called me into his office today to warn me."

"Warn you?" I asked apprehensively. "Are you in trouble – do we need security?"

"Nothing like that," he said grimly. "Although, I might be nice to have some protection from Dr. Smyth."

"Lee. . ."

"Do you remember the rumors going around last week about the permanent ATAC division?" he asked suddenly.

"The new inter-agency Anti-Terrorist Task Force?" I replied. "Yeah, sure. But that's not just us, right? It's supposed to draw from all the bureaus – Agency, FBI, CIA, SDBIR. . ."

"Yeah. Like the coalition that ran the investigation on Addi Birol - only on a much broader scale."

The light was beginning to dawn. "Are you telling me. . ."

"Yes," he sighed. "Evidently Harry Thorton has been lobbying for them to offer me the director's job. With Billy's support."

"What an honor," I told him, not quite sure how I felt about it. "Are you interested?"

"Yeah. . . maybe." He hesitated, stopping and turning to look me in the eyes. "There's a lot to consider. It's an administrative position, but still challenging – and it means a big jump in pay."

"And?" I prodded, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"And it means leaving the Agency, dissolving our partnership. At least for a while."

I turned away. "I see."

"No, you don't," he said, tilting my face back towards his. "There's more." His eyes searched mine, and suddenly I knew what he was about to say. "It would mean a full security review. And it won't take much digging for IAB to unearth our little secret."

I let out the breath I'd been holding. "I guess for a couple of spies, we didn't really cover our tracks very well."

"You'd just had a full review in November, and I wasn't due until '89. I thought we had some breathing room."

I stopped suddenly, turning to look at him. "You said Billy wanted to warn you."

He nodded. "About the review. To give me a chance to head them off if I'm not interested. It seems he knew what they would turn up."

"Oh, my gosh."

"That's one way to put it," he laughed. "Billy had another."

"Was he very angry?" I asked, reaching for his hand. The rug had suddenly been pulled out from under me, and I needed his touch to ground me again.

"I think he was more hurt than angry - that I hadn't confirmed myself what he'd already suspected." He squeezed my hand. "I guess I didn't do a very good job of hiding my feelings when you had your accident in California. Billy said it wasn't a huge leap to put two and two together and figure out what we were really doing out there. He just wished I'd told him myself instead of keeping him in the dark."

I flinched at the look of pain on Lee's face. Billy was one of his oldest friends; it couldn't have been an easy conversation. I turned to him, my hands resting on his shoulders. "So, Scarecrow," I sighed, "where do we go from here?"

"We don't have to go anywhere you don't want to," he said quickly. "If I don't take the job, Billy will keep our secret until we notify him officially." He looked down at me tenderly. "In any case, you don't have to worry. I took full responsibility. I'm the senior agent; I knew better."

"Lee," I laughed. "I'm as responsible as you are. You hardly ordered me to marry you."

"I don't want this to fall on you. It's not fair."

"Whoever promised life was fair?" I sighed, remembering when Lee had said those words to me once long ago.

His soft laughter rippled over me. "Yeah, well, I kind of keep expecting it to be." I felt his lips gently graze my forehead. "At least, I do now."

His arms closed around me as I leaned into him. We must have made a pretty picture standing together on the corner, and I vaguely wondered if Mrs. Gilstrap was looking. The neighborhood would surely be buzzing in a few hours. Somehow, it didn't matter anymore.

Maybe this wasn't such a disaster after all. Sometimes endings are only doorways to new beginnings.

I looked up at my husband's face in the glow of the streetlight. "You want this job, don't you?"

"I don't know if it's the job I want or the chance to end this deception, to really be your husband." I heard his sigh in my ear. "I'm tired, Amanda. Tired of heading home to an empty apartment, tired of being a secret stepfather." He twisted, kissing me lightly on the forehead. "Tonight, with Phillip – it really felt great. I don't want to give that feeling up. I want a build a family – our family – openly, with you."

He pulled back to look me in the eye. "I'm not just talking about having a baby of our own," he continued in a low voice. "Whether we decide to do that or not, I want to be an active part of Phillip and Jamie's lives. I remember what it's like to be their age and not have a father around. And besides," he added, almost to himself, "I promised Jamie something while we were at Crump's cabin – maybe this is my chance to keep it."

My heart ached with love for him, and I reached up to cup his face with my hands. "Then take the job," I said, pressing my lips gently against his. "No matter what happens at work, we're still partners."

"I hate to think of you in the field without me," he said quietly, a pained expression in his eyes. "But it's your decision."

I knew what that declaration had cost him. "Thank you for that," I whispered, pulling him into my arms. "I don't know if that's what I want – it won't be the same without your tail to watch. I do know that I want to keep on working."

"Give it some time and the right thing will turn up," he advised, his hand finding mine as we headed back to the house. "We might be able to work together again someday. But right now. . ."

"Right now, I'll settle for being your partner at home. We'll let the Agency take care of itself."

"Are you sure?" he asked suddenly, and I felt his hand tighten around mine. "I don't want to rush into this decision. We did that last November and look where that got us."

"It got us each other," I smiled, giving his hand a squeeze in return. "Besides, it's not sudden. We've been laying the foundation for this ever since California. This job offer just gave us the final nudge. You know, Stetson, we've always been chicken."

"Yeah," he grinned, "I know. I think that's what got us into this mess in the first place."

"We'll have to tell Mother and the boys," I whispered soberly as we finally reached our back door. "I don't even know where to begin."

"We don't have to decide that tonight. We'll figure out what's right. And I'd be happy to marry you again, Mrs. Stetson, in front of the whole world if you want me to. Just name the time and the place."

"Whatever we decide about the boys," I said slowly, "I want to tell my mother the whole truth. I need her to know, Lee," I stated insistently, seeing the doubt in his eyes. "About everything. It's the only way I can even begin to justify what we did."

He nodded. "I'll square it with Billy. If you want, I can talk to her – explain that this was my lame idea. . ."

"Thanks for the offer, but I have to do this on my own." I leaned forward and pressed my lips lightly to his. "But I will let you pick up the pieces after she kills me."

"It'll be okay, she loves you," he whispered, pulling me into the protection of his arms. "Almost as much as I do."

I sincerely hoped he was right.

* * *

My stomach did a flip-flop when I heard the key turn in the door. I'd almost given up; Mother was late, even by her standards. My courage suddenly failed me, and I debated postponing our talk, but I steeled myself to face her. Now that our marriage was about to lose it's mystery status at the Agency, keeping things from her seemed even more wrong.

She walked down the steps into the den, carefully removing her purse from her shoulder and tossing it on the chair. "How was your date?" I inquired, my eyes not daring to meet hers.

"It wasn't really a date," she answered cryptically, kicking off her shoes as she sat across from me on the opposite end of the couch. "Curt and I had some business to discuss."

I turned sideways, resting my head on my hand as I watched her out of the corner of my eye. She seemed lost in thought, crossing and recrossing her legs as she shifted in her seat.

"Mother," I began hesitantly.

"Amanda," she said at the same time.

". . .I need to talk to you," we both finished.

We looked at each other, the apprehensive smile on both our faces finally giving way to a nervous laugh. I tucked my feet up under my legs and took a deep breath, twirling a strand of hair between my fingers while I tried to figure out how to begin.

"You know, you used to do that when you were a little girl," my mother said, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. "When you had something on your mind. In another minute, you'll be chewing on your nails." She sighed, her hands smoothing the wrinkles from her slacks. "Tell me, Amanda, should I be checking the attic for unexpected guests?"

"Not this time. Although, I wish what I had to tell you was as simple as Debbie Ann McCabey."

I stood up and turned away, restlessly tightening the belt on my robe as I walked over to the bookcase. Mother and the boys smiled down at me from their place of honor on the shelf. There was some dust on the frame, I noticed with a frown, and I carefully ran my finger along its length. I heard Mother clear her throat, and I turned to face her, absently wiping my hand on my robe.

"This is so hard," I began, folding my arms across my chest as I leaned against the shelves for support. "I don't even know where to start. I know you'd say the beginning is a good place, but I don't even know where that is any more. It was all so innocent at first, and I couldn't say anything, and that probably would have been okay if we'd kept everything on a business level. But I fell in love with him, even though I didn't really mean to at the time, and then it all got so out of control and I ended up doing things I never even thought. . ."

I took a deep breath. Mother sat on the couch, her right eyebrow raised in that politely tolerant way she adopted whenever I started to ramble. I rarely did that anymore; my professional training had finally cured that habit. Well, almost. Unfortunately, facing my mother made me feel more like a recalcitrant child than a seasoned agent.

I took a deep breath and tried again.

"Did you ever find yourself in the most incredible situation?" I asked her suddenly. "That everything you'd ever wanted in life was right there in front of you, but to embrace it you had to sacrifice something you valued almost as much?"

"Amanda Jean West." My mother's voice had an odd lilt. "Is this your way of finally telling me that your last name is really Stetson?"

My eyes locked on hers ands I had to remind myself to breathe. "You. . . I. . . you know?" I mumbled, searching for the right words. I only seemed capable of jumbled phrases. "How long?"

"Have I known for certain?" she asked with a mirthless laugh. "About two minutes. How long have I suspected? Since I ran into your Mr. Dorsey's friend Gus Weinstein." She took a deep breath, rising deliberately from the sofa.

I watched her in appalled silence, the clouded reasons for her recent behavior sharpening to crystal clarity.

"I met him on my way to the airport," she continued in a conversational tone that, given the subject, seemed oddly out of place. "He'd stopped by the hospital to see how you were doing, and I told him you were sleeping. He was such a nice man, so concerned. He very politely walked me to the door, hailed me a cab, informed me of my daughter's marriage. . . yes, quite the gentleman."

I walked over to the sofa, sinking down into the cold comfort of the foam cushions. "All this time, and you never said a word to me?"

My mother turned on me, her eyebrow rising pointedly again. "I believe that's my line, don't you think?"

She frowned as she sighed deeply, walking over to sit beside me on the sofa. She folded her hands efficiently in her lap, her thumbs drumming the cadence of an imaginary beat as she watched me closely.

"I wanted to tell you," I began, my eyes looking past her into the kitchen. I noticed that one of the boys had gotten into the poppy seed cake I'd made for the new neighbor. Now I'd have to start all over from scratch tomorrow.

"Amanda." I felt my mother's hand gingerly brush my wrist. "I'm listening now. Do you want to explain why you felt you had to keep something as important as your marriage from me?"

I looked at her then, the woman who'd supported me all my life, and I didn't know what to say. The truth, of course, but I wasn't sure what that was anymore. I'd rationalized to myself that I'd kept my secret because of my job, but that was only part of it. If I had to be honest, a part of me had enjoyed the intrigue of my secret life. The thrill had reawakened the adventurous spirit I'd squelched during my marriage to Joe. Regrettably, that same spirit had hurt the people I cared about the most. My mother, my sons. . . even Lee. For months now he'd been trying to convince me to end the pretense, but I hadn't wanted to listen.

"I thought I was doing the right thing," I told my mother in a low voice, and that much, at least, was true. "There's so much you don't know about my job, things I can't tell you yet. I want to, I want to tell you everything, but there are security issues that have to be. . ."

"You don't have to explain. 'IFF works for the government and the government has secrets', right?" she intoned, smiling sadly. "I've lived most of my adult life in this crazy town; I've learned a few things by now, Missy."

"Then you understand. . ."

"I understand there are issues about your job, yes. But I don't understand why that stopped you from introducing your fiancé to your family. I know you had to have been engaged," she put in quickly, as I started to protest. "Don't deny that, please. I've been around the two of you long enough to know that this marriage wasn't a spur of the moment thing."

"I don't really know," I told her truthfully. "I think I was just. . . scared."

"Of what?" she quizzed. "Of telling me? Oh, Amanda – did I put so much pressure on you that you couldn't share the things that were most important in your life?"

"No, it's not that," I murmured quickly, stung by hurt in her eyes. "I know you've always only wanted the best for me. It was myself I was scared of. I'd already failed once at marriage. If it happened again. . . " The words sounded so inadequate, even to me. I blinked and looked away, fighting the tears that unaccountably sprang to my eyes. It was strange; I hardly ever cried.

"Amanda, you aren't the same person who married Joe all those years ago. You've changed a great deal in the past few years."

I turned to her with a trembling laugh. "I don't know if you think that's good or bad?"

My mother shook her head. "Neither one," she sighed, giving my knee a gentle pat. "It just is."

I looked down at her hand, at her fingers absently rubbing my terrycloth robe. "You seem so calm about all this. Why aren't you angrier?"

She looked up at me, lips pursed. "Oh, I was plenty angry, believe me. Why do you think I haven't confronted you long before this? But you almost died a few months ago, and I didn't trust myself to. . ."

She turned away, her eyes focused on the blank television screen. "At first I couldn't understand how you could keep such a thing from me. Then, the more I thought about it, I realized that you'd kept lots of things from me the past few years, not just this. I mean, we've shared the same roof, the same meals, worried about the boys together. . . but all the time, you had a whole other life that I wasn't part of; that none of us were part of."

She leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes, adding, "I think that was the hardest thing to accept. Realizing that you and I weren't as close as I'd always believed we were."

"We are close," I whispered in a shaky voice. "You're my mother. You know how much I love you."

"Oh, Panda," she asked quietly, "how can we be close if we don't share things?"

"I didn't mean to shut you out," I answered, her use of that old nickname causing my voice to crack ever so slightly. "It just kind of. . . happened."

"Maybe so, but it still hurts. I'm sure you didn't set out to do that, but. . ." She stood suddenly, kicking her discarded shoes out of the way as she paced the small den. "I've been doing a lot of soul searching these past few months, and I've come to a few conclusions." She stopped, turning to face me, her arms crossed over her chest. "It's time I made some changes in my own life and stopped obsessing about yours. Curt's offered me a job at the new ground school he's opening in the fall."

"A job?"

"Yes. I've decided to take it. We finalized the details tonight. And," she finished breathlessly, "I'm thinking about moving out once it opens."

"Are you telling me you and Captain Curt. . ."

"No," she replied with a low laugh. "I don't think we're really suited to be anything more than business associates."

"Then what. . . why. . . Mother, this is your home. . ."

"No, Amanda, it's your home - which you've very generously shared with me for the past five years. But I think it's time we put a little space between us." She slowly made her way to the chair, dropping down into with a tired smile. "I've loved being a daily part of the boys lives. But I think maybe the two of us lost something when I did. Maybe living together like this made us fall back into old roles. I became the 'mother', while you kept your secrets again, the way you did when you were a child." She looked over at me, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "I'd like to be your friend again."

"Oh, Mother. . ."

"And," she continued quietly, "If I leave, then maybe you can make some changes of your own. You know, you and your husband can't have a real marriage if you're living apart." She frowned slightly, adding in a serious voice, "You of all people should know that, Amanda."

"I do," I sighed softly. "We both do, Lee and I. Mother. . ." I took a large gulping breath, then slowly exhaled. "About Lee. This was my fault, the lies, the deception – I wouldn't want you to blame him."

"I don't," she told me, tilting her head to one side as she stretched the kinks out of her neck. "In a way, it would be easier if I could, but. . . it's hard to be angry with a man who loves my daughter as much he obviously does." She paused, her fingers massaging her neck. "When you were in that hospital in California, I was almost as worried about him as I was about you."

"I love him, too," I confided. "More than I thought possible. Lee hasn't had much experience being part of a family. He lost his parents when he was just a child. . ."

"I know," she said softly, adding in response to my puzzled look, "he told me. In the ICU waiting room. From the little he said, I could tell he hadn't had an easy time of it." She rested her head against the back of the chair, rubbing her fingers around her temples in tiny circles. "Maybe that's why I'm not as angry as I should be at the two of you for keeping this a secret."

"Thank you for that, but you have a perfect right to be angry. If it was Phillip or Jamie, I'd probably skin them alive."

"Did I say I wasn't going to do that?" she asked pointedly, her hand kneading her forehead.

"No," I replied over my shoulder as I headed into the kitchen. I grabbed some aspirin from the cupboard as I quickly filled a glass of water at the sink. Walking back into the den, I handed them to her. "Actually, Lee and I came to a few decisions of our own tonight."

"Is that the reason for the sudden confession?" she mumbled, washing the pills down with a gulp of water.

"I guess so," I answered guiltily. "How they'll take that news at work, I'm not quite sure, but both of us are tired of the lies."

I sat back down on the sofa, crossing my legs as I leaned my head on my arm. "Here," I heard my mother say with a small laugh, "You look like you could use a couple of these, too." She passed the aspirin over to me. I grinned gratefully, popping two small pills into my mouth as she handed me her glass. Quickly swallowing, I set the glass down on the coffee table with deliberate care.

"Mother," I began haltingly, "can you ever forgive me for lying to you?"

She twisted uncomfortably in her seat, shifting her weight from side to side. "You're my child, Amanda. I love you."

"Yes, I know that. But that's not the same as being able to forgive me. I could understand if you couldn't," I told her uneasily. "It's just that I don't want to lose your friendship, either. It's important to me, even if I haven't shown it very well."

"It's important to me, too. That's why this has all been so difficult. . ."

"I really wish you'd stay," I told her quietly. "The boys will really miss you. "

"I'll miss them, too," my mother echoed. "But they're both getting to the age where they could use a man around the house."

"But they'll always need you, the same way I do," I sputtered. "I never would have survived that first year after the divorce without you."

"I needed you just as much." She toyed with the button on her shirt cuff, her face getting a faraway look. "I missed your Daddy so; it was almost like a part of me had died, too. There's nothing more fulfilling than being married to your best friend." She turned to me, her warm smile genuine this time. "But I have a feeling I don't need to tell you that."

"No," I said, my expression matching hers. "You don't." I relaxed into the corner of the couch, pulling my feet up beside me and tucking my robe in around them.

"You know, Amanda, you don't have to live under the same roof to be close. I think we've proved that, don't you?" She took deep breath, exhaling softly before offering the final olive branch. "Maybe with a little distance, we can do better."

"I promise to try," I told her, stretching out my hand to her. "With all my heart."

She reached out and squeezed it. "So do I." Her lips turned up in a smile. "How about we seal our new bargain with a snack? I didn't eat much dinner."

"I did work up an appetite pacing the floor tonight while I waited for you," I agreed conspiratorially. "You know what I feel like?"

She raised her eyebrow slightly. "Peanut butter and. . ."

"Marshmallows," I finished with a grin. "If I can just remember where I stashed them. . ."

"Top cabinet next to the sink, behind that box of Oaties cereal the boys hate."

I stopped in my tracks, halfway to the kitchen as I turned to face her. "You know where I keep the marshmallows?" No one knew my hiding place; it was my one advantage in this household.

"Amanda," she returned pointedly, "I've always known. I just let you think it was a secret."

* * *

The organ played the familiar chords as everyone strained to catch a glimpse of the bride. The groom's eyes were riveted to a spot at the end of the long church aisle, and I remembered another day when I was the one who held his gaze. A lifetime ago.

I felt Lee's hand grasp mine as Carrie met Joe at the altar, and I smiled gratefully up at him. My husband never ceased to amaze me. Even in a moment like this, he had an uncanny ability to sense exactly what I was feeling. Sometimes I marveled how helping out one stranger in trouble had irrevocably altered all our lives. Like a pebble in a brook, the ripples were unending.

I glanced down at the third finger of my left hand. The diamond Lee had given me all those months ago was no longer hidden in a drawer, but displayed for all the world to see, right where it had always belonged. Soon my wedding band would join it when we exchanged our vows for the second time.

"The boys look great in their tuxes," Lee whispered, and I had to agree. Especially Jamie. His contacts had given him a new self-image and it showed. He looked taller and very grown up standing beside his brother at the front of the church.

I wished Mother could be here to see it, but she'd declined Joe's invitation. "I don't belong at my ex-son-in-law's wedding," she'd told me in no uncertain terms, and I understood her feelings. I was just thankful she didn't feel the same way about attending her current son-in-law's wedding.

We'd decided on the backyard ceremony that Lee had talked about so many months ago, before all the mystery marriage craziness had started. Mother was helping us plan it, and I was grateful. It had helped to bridge the distance that had grown between us.

And I'd been given clearance to explain a little bit about our jobs. I knew it couldn't erase what we'd done last February, but, on some level, I think it helped Mother to accept it. I hoped that when the dust settled, she might even feel proud of my job - even if she couldn't brag to Aunt Lillian about it.

She'd agreed to continue living with us, at least for the time being. "Just until I know if I want to make my relationship with Harry a permanent thing," she'd told me with a grin.

Her good friend Harry Berrigan had resurfaced a few weeks ago, claiming that the Swiss climate just didn't agree with him. He and Mother appeared to be picking up right where they left off last year, and I had a secret hunch that it wasn't only the weather that had lured him back to D.C.

"I know he's not your Daddy," she'd confided, her voice brimming with happiness. "But, oh, Amanda, he makes me laugh. And he's awfully good. . ."

"Mo-ther," I'd groaned, my eyes widening in horror.

"Around the house," she'd finished with a pointed look. "Really, dear, you're starting to worry me. Maybe we should take down that trellis by your bedroom window."

I'd rolled my eyes, beating a hasty retreat to the other room. "Well," I heard her say, "I suppose pretty soon your husband will be able to use the front door and it won't matter. Although, that won't be nearly as entertaining for poor Edna Gilstrap."

I winced at the thought. Maybe I should sell this house after all. I had a sneaking suspicion my reputation was shot in this neighborhood.

We were still wavering about how much to tell the boys. Some days I felt that I owed it to them to be completely honest, on others I almost convinced myself they didn't 'need to know' everything. It was just so tempting not to rock the boat.

But when all was said and done, I knew it wasn't a matter of 'if' we should tell them, only 'when'. We'd taken the coward's way out last November; it was past time to put things right. As they frequently reminded me, my sons were no longer small children. I could only hope that they were adult enough to understand why we'd kept them in the dark. No matter their reaction, we were going to be a family. We'd just have to take the good along with the bad.

Things at the Agency were in transition as well. Lee and I were currently on light administrative assignment, spending the last months of our partnership wrapping our cases and briefing our replacement team. It was a bittersweet time, for both of us. The Q-Bureau had played such a big role in our personal relationship; it was sometimes hard to separate the two.

The fall would bring even bigger change. When Lee began his new job in September, Francine would be joining his team. She hadn't been able to work things out with her old flame, Jonathan Stone, and she was looking for a new challenge. For my part, I was glad that my husband would have a supportive friend in his new position. He may have wanted to leave the field, but I had a nagging feeling that 'Administrative One', as he jokingly referred to it, wouldn't be an easy adjustment. But, as Lee had told Francine in May, he was doing what he'd wanted to do for as long as he could remember. This would just be another way to do it.

Francine's departure had an unexpected benefit. Our department was being restructured, and Mr. Melrose offered me the brand new position of administrative field section liaison. I'd worked with him while I was on restricted duty last spring, and we'd both enjoyed it. In addition to a very nice pay raise, the job came with one other stipulation, he'd told me with a grin. I had to call him Billy.

"After putting up with Scarecrow for four years," he'd added slyly, "that should be a piece of cake."

I tended to agree, but I also knew it wouldn't be easy to end the working partnership I'd grown to rely on. Whatever the challenges ahead, at work or at home, I knew Lee and I would face them together. We'd gone through so many changes already, been so many things to each other. Flirtatious associates, friendly acquaintances, and loving friends; working partners, secret lovers and, now, finally, husband and wife. In twenty minutes or twenty years, it didn't matter; the feeling would still be the same. We were best friends who had the incredible good luck to also be married. True companions.

Life didn't get much better than that.

The End