Title: The Price We Pay
Disclosure: Warner Brothers Television Distribution and Shoot The Moon Productions owns these characters, as well as to the writers, and actors who created and portrayed them. Generous references to the past and the events of the 4th season… I don't make any money off of this - my only reward is my personal satisfaction at having written a decent story (and the story is all mine). Oh, and any new characters that you meet along the way - those are creations from my own twisted imagination, so hands off, unless you ask for permission to play with them.
See Chapter 1 for more information on timing and all that other good stuff...
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She strolled past the receptionist's desk and held up her hand before the woman could speak. "I don't need an appointment, and I was never here," she stated in a cold and commanding voice. She placed her hand on the doorknob to the inner office and looked over her shoulder at the woman. "Comprende, madam?" The older woman simply looked at her and nodded, shocked at how similar she sounded as compared to the powerful man behind that thick oak door.
Becca opened the door, and could see the massive black leather chair turned so that the back was facing her. The only indication that someone was sitting in it was the plume of smoke that rose above the top of the chair. She closed the door behind her, and headed for one of the chairs on her side of the desk. She sat and waited, staring at the same map that the office's occupant was staring at, decorated with the multiple colored flags that indicated quiet missions, large operations, and sites where agents had lost their lives. A small crystal candy jar sat on the large and well-polished mahogany desk with more flags to be added as needed.
Others who had sat in this office under similar circumstances would have been sweating the minute they walked in, and chattering just to have some noise. The room felt like a massive library: quiet, filled with secrets and lies. She continued to watch the smoke rise from the chair and relaxed in her chair, and ran her hand lazily along its arm. She had no inclination to speak, knowing that her superior would turn around in time, and preferring to wait. She knew that he was waiting for her to make the first move.
She had made a mistake only once with him, early on. She had come into the office, and waited while he reviewed paperwork on his desk. After 15 minutes she got impatient, stood up and dropped her dress off. She had pulled herself slowly and, she thought, rather seductively back into the chair. Without looking up from his work he had ordered that she put her dress back on, or to go walk the District looking for a customer. She quickly dressed, and vowed never to go that route again with this man.
Dr. Smyth had heard Boo's voice in the outer office and hadn't moved from his mental review of operations. He knew that as she sat down in her favorite leather chair that she could sit there as long as necessary. She had come in once, and waited in that chair while he had left the office for 3 hours just so that she could make her point. The old man had the need to tap out his cigarette, and finally turned around to access the crystal ashtray - the match to the candy jar that held his multicolored flag pins.
"Well, well, little sheep, have you any wool?"
"Cut the rhymes, Austin. I'm not one of your little freshman flunkies and we both know it. Tell me how ironclad Amanda King's reinstatement is?" Becca sat with her arms crossed under her breasts; an automatic gesture for her, but one that wouldn't work for her in the current situation.
"Cut out the pouting ingénue act, Becca. It doesn't work with me. And wear undergarments to work, please. That just isn't sanitary." He tapped his cigarette holder against the ashtray again, raising an arched eyebrow back at the agent sitting in the visitor's chair.
Becca straightened up under his scrutiny, and moved her arms up across her breasts. Partly to satisfy Smyth's request, and partly because she suddenly felt like an uncomfortable teen that had just discovered she was the only girl in the class with a chest. "You didn't answer my question, Austin."
"I'm very aware of what I didn't do, Becca. The Stetson woman's re-instatement is as ironclad as they come, the Commander-in-Chief signed it himself. Nothing I can do about it, whether anyone likes it or not." He noticed Becca's discomfort at hearing the phrase 'Stetson' associated with Amanda King, and kept on with his statements, knowing he would get the upper hand. He also realized that by bringing Dobson back in for this purpose from the field had been a tactical error. "She's also officially Scarecrow's partner again, so you'd better look to clear out that little love nest that you were hoping to build in the Q with Stetson. I hear love birds mate for life, and Stetson finally found his." He puffed again lightly on his cigarette, hoping that the stub would last until she left his office. He never changed it in front of other individuals, as that would make him seem more common, more on their level. And everyone knew that Austin Smyth was *not* only everyone else's level.
"Austin," Becca purred, "I'm sure there's something we can do to help my situation along, isn't there?" She leaned forward. This woman was willing to risk everything to try and get her way this time.
"Dobson, get out of here. There's nothing I can do to help you. Cut your losses and get a new caseload from Billy." Knowing that she would get the message, Smyth turned his chair back to the world operations map he maintained in his office. After a couple of minutes, he heard the woman get up and walk out, shutting the door none-too-softly behind her. He reached into the credenza in front of him and pulled out a fresh cigarette for his holder, and lit it, puffing away as he shook his head.
Women like Rebecca Dobson were the problem with agent relationships. Dressing and acting like that just distracts distracted from the mission at hand. 'Just like her mother,' Smyth thought to himself, while a small smile brushed across his face before vanishing, 'and if I had been smarter, *I* wouldn't have gotten distracted by her either.'
On the other side of the coin were female agents like Amanda King-Stetson: perfect spouse material. Smart and logical enough to be invaluable in the field, and the right woman to make critical agents go soft. Just like Scarecrow. He hadn't thought that his perennial lone-wolf agent would disappoint him by settling down, but stranger things had happened in this business. He was not going to succeed in breaking that partnership up - not from a professional or personal angle, but it had been worth a try. Again, he thought of Becca, and how big a mistake it was that he had brought her back in from that long and isolated assignment in the desert. The time away hadn't changed her, although it had been good for Stetson to get his mind back on his work. Then Amanda King had to be in a train station at just the right time, and throw everything back into flux. Smyth wondered how he was going to get Stetson focused back on more critical assignments.
Attempting to send him out of the country on contact zero wasn't going to go over well, and he wondered if he should push his luck. Something like that could send Scarecrow packing. He sighed and looked back over the operations map. Scarecrow had definitely been playing it safe since he married, and that wasn't the type of agent Smyth needed. Still, he and the housewife had the best solve rate in The Agency, and they had allies in royalty and government around the world. As he puffed away, he thought about whether or not that was enough to compensate for Stetson's new lifestyle.
Meanwhile, Lee found himself wearing a hole in the floor outside the Behavioral Analysis unit in the lower levels of The Agency. As he made what had to be his seventeenth journey across the hall, he bumped into someone, not watching where he was going. "Francine, I'm sorry." He had grabbed her arms to keep her from falling before realizing who it was.
"Lee? I thought you and Amanda were going to be working at home?" Francine's forehead furrowed, trying to recall what Billy had said about the two agents.
"Yes, we were, and Pfaff was supposed to come to the house to talk to Amanda, but he decided that it would be easier and more secure if she came here."
"Secure?"
"Yeah, meaning that I wouldn't hanging around a corner or a window listening in while my *partner*," this he emphasized by yelling the word at the door of the Behavioral Analysis offices, "sits in there and recalls how our job went south and how *I* almost died. And she's been in there for 3 hours!" His voice rose by a few degrees, but he backed off when the guards stationed nearby stepped forward slightly and became more attentive as he yelled.
"Settle down, Lee. Are you sure you're not biased about this?"
He looked up sharply at Francine, and while she regretted bringing this course of conversation up, she knew she had to continue. "Lee, Amanda's not just your partner. She's your wife. That can't help your objectivity about this."
"Can it, Francine. Enough with the pop psychology. I should be in there." Lee started to pace again.
"You're not the only one affected by this." Francine tried to lead him away from the B.A. unit, but was unsuccessful. "Amanda killed someone."
"In the line of duty, Francine. It's part of the job." He continued his movements, but in a much smaller space, and limited to almost circling Francine.
"Stetson, when did you become such a cynic? This is *Amanda* we're talking about. Housewife? Mom? Bakes great Christmas cookies? She used deadly force for the first time. Yes, it was in the line of duty. Yes, it's justified because she saved her partner's life. And it's personal because she saved her husband's life," at this Lee looked up sharply, almost guiltily. Francine continued, "but it isn't an easy thing to get over when it's the first time. No matter who is involved. And it takes a while to talk through," Francine laid her hand on Lee's forearm to still his movements around her. 'Especially when you're crying between every other word,' Francine though as she recalled her own first use of force. "Stop, you're getting me dizzy." She laid the back of her hand to her forehead, Southern-belle style, hoping to get a laugh from Lee, but failing.
Lee looked up from the floor to meet his friend's eyes, which were full of concern for he and Amanda. "First time. I remember the first time." His eyes got a faraway quality to them, as he seemed to stare through Francine. She wasn't sure if he was recalling the first use of deadly force, or if he was remembering the first time he met Amanda. She couldn't tell from the sentimental quality that was apparent on his face - he wasn't smiling, but wasn't overwrought about whatever it was he was recalling.
"Stetson, snap out of it, we're not talking women here." Francine smiled at the joke, hoping it would bring Lee back to the present. Presently, he shook his head, and chuckled at the joke.
"You're right, Francine. How did I get to be such a cynic? Amanda needs as much time as possible to heal from this, and if Pfaff can get her through the nightmare-"
Francine cut him off. "Nightmares? Amanda is having nightmares over this?" Concern clearly laced the blond woman's voice.
"Yeah. Only instead of shooting the bad guy-"
"She shoots you?"
"No. She freezes. Or she doesn't get there in time. Or she doesn't bump into the boxes, and I take a bullet between the eyes." Lee's eyes filled with pain and concern for his wife. "I need to be in there with her, Francine."
"No, you don't Lee. You need to be out here to support her when she comes out. You need to be available if Pfaff wants you to join the sessions. You're alive, Lee, because of Amanda, and you can support her through this. That's all that matters."
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Inside the B.A. unit, Amanda sat for most of the time on one of the chairs with her jean-clad legs stretched out in front of her, crossed at the ankles. She was mentally exhausted and that carried over into her physical being. Eugene Pfaff was lying on his own couch, licking his 5th Popsicle this session and Amanda had been ready to scream until she turned the tables.
They had covered her use of force in great detail the first hour and a half, along with the nightmares that went with it. How normal it is to have this sort of reaction, and how problematic it can be for an agent if it doesn't stop. How none of it was her fault, and that her partner was still alive, and that she was responsible for that action. And when Pfaff told her that she was psychologically sound to return to duty - that she had been for some time - that she was normal, Amanda laughed. "Dr. Pfaff, how normal is it for a single mother who's been a Little League coach and a Jr. Trailblazers den mother to be an employee of an Agency that no one is supposed to know exists?" Seeing her point, and the exclusive nature of her situation, they continued to talk.
The next hour was spent going over Amanda's doubts and fears and the terror she was starting to feel with each note and phone call to the house. She admitted to being more anxious about things, but in a negative way. And these fears were starting to manifest themselves in physical symptoms: she was more fatigued, got headaches easily, and occasionally felt a bit nauseous. Dr. Pfaff became more concerned - physical manifestations of anxiety symptoms were enough to ground a field agent permanently if they couldn't get past it - and it didn't matter if the reason for the anxiety was personal or professional.
"Why are you feeling insecure, Amanda? You snared the most eligible and wanted man in The Agency? And it's obvious to anyone with eyes that he would do anything for you." Dr. Pfaff looked over his half-glasses to the woman sitting on his couch, who looked back at him with slight doubt.
"I know that, but what about all those other women? The steno pool, the other female agents? I've heard the rumors, and I've had people tell me to my face: Lee will get tired of me and leave." And so began a round of talking about all the acts of kindness that Lee had done for her, and about *his* past.
Finally, after 2 and a-half hours, Amanda was feeling better about things. It wasn't that she had any doubts about Lee's feelings for her; she knew that he was dedicated to her. It just became too much with the harassment and the constant whispering and gossiping around her. When she felt they had covered that ground, Amanda asked about the Popsicle, and Pfaff's potential for high priced dental bills. He had admitted that they were starting to get a bit high and that Doc McJohn had been getting after him to cut back as well. "So eat granola bars - they're cheaper and better for you." And so began the next 45 minutes of going over why Eugene Pfaff was so addicted to ice cream and Popsicle bars. By the time they had exhausted that topic, Amanda believed the statement about how all therapists needed therapy for themselves. After a final re-iteration that she was fit for duty, and that he needed to start being more pro-active about not having a sugar fixation, Amanda stood up to go.
As she walked out of the B.A. unit, she felt the weight begin to lift from her shoulders. She took a deep breath and started looking down the hall for Lee. She found him sitting on the floor around the corner from the unit, with his arms wrapped around his legs, and his chin resting on his knees.
"Lee?"
He lifted his head and smiled. "Well, it's about time." He slowly stood up, feeling the joints in his knees creak slightly as we straightened up. Realizing what he had said, he held up one hand. "Sorry. However long it takes, it takes. I'll still wait out here for you."
"And you'll drive the guards crazy the whole time, I'm sure." Amanda looked towards the guards standing outside the B.A. unit, and one imperceptibly nodded at her statement. The other rolled his eyes upward before reverting to a solemn stare forward. 'Ah, those poor guys,' she thought to herself. "Come on," she linked her arm through Lee's, "let's go upstairs."
"Upstairs?" Lee wiggled his eyebrows and was promptly awarded with Amanda's elbow knocking quickly against his ribs and then settling back into its link with her husband's arm.
"Yes, I want to check on a couple of files in the Q."
"We can go home and get them brought over."
"Lee, we're already here, why wait any longer? Besides, I promise I won't be long." She was already steering their course towards the elevators that would lead towards the Q. Knowing that he couldn't resist her, he didn't complain. He knew that his wife would feel more useful in her element in the Q, and even if it were only for a couple of hours, then so be it.
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Lee glanced up at the clock for just a moment, taking in the time absentmindedly, and then did a double take. He looked across the office toward the sofa and found Amanda arranging files - surrounded completely by piles. "Amanda," he began softly so as not to harshly break her concentration.
"Hmmm?"
"Amanda, we've been here for two hours. I thought you were only going to be a few minutes."
"Whaa? Oh, the files. They're such a mess, Lee, and it will help us both if they're in order."
"What are all those piles?"
"Sorted by year, vaguely related cases… they're all ours. Any idea why they're all out?"
"No. I've been trying to figure out what phantom Becca's been chas-"
"Becca? She did this?" Amanda crinkled her eyebrows and nose at hearing this. "What could she have possibly been looking for? Lee, half of these files are inactive and should be archived. Why would she be looking through them in the first place? It's a stretch to relate most of them - the only obvious link is whether or not the subject was Russian, Romanian, American…" Amanda got up and started wandering around the office, not quite pacing, more like some random pattern in the office. She couldn't have paced in a straight line in the first place because of all the piles on the floor in the first place. Finally, after almost knocking a couple of piles over, she settled down at her desk and turned towards the typewriter, feeding a piece of paper into it.
"Amanda, what are you doing?"
"Just going to take a couple of notes down. It might help me try and make sense of this." She set her margins and started to type down notes. Lee was always amazed with the speed at which she typed; it almost rivaled the speed at which she spoke and thought.
"Amanda, they're just piles of reports."
"Lee." Amanda suddenly stopped typing.
"I know. I'll be quiet and let you finis-" Lee stopped at noticing the look on his wife's face. "Amanda? Amanda, are you ok?"
Amanda ripped the paper from the typewriter and stared at it for a long moment. She handed it over to Lee when she was done. "Lee, tell me what's wrong with this."
He took the paper and started reading her notes. He didn't notice anything other than Amanda hadn't finished the sentence she had started. "Look closely, Lee," Amanda chided him. He continued to look. After a moment of careful scrutiny he looked up at Amanda. As she nodded at him he softly said, "The 's' is dropped." Amanda smiled nervously.
"Yes, the 's' is dropped." Amanda got up from the desk, picked up a stack of files and headed for the vault. "The letters originated from this office, Lee."
"But from who?"
Amanda turned at the vault door and looked back at her husband with a surprised look. "You have to ask that, Scarecrow? Who else has access to this office besides you and me? Think about it." With that, she turned back into the vault, turned on the interior light and closed the door most of the way closed. Lee knew to take this as a sign to leave Amanda alone as she dealt with this new development. The stress that she had been under up to this point was nothing compared to the fact that a giant leap in the mystery as to who was harassing Amanda had been made.
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20 minutes later, Lee scratched his ear briefly before running his hand up through his hair and back around to rub his neck. There had been no noise from the vault where Amanda was working, and he didn't want to go in there not knowing if she was working or simply sitting on the floor finding her way out of frustration. He stood up and walked around the office to stretch out the kinks in his back and legs, and continued to rub his neck, dropping his head down to work his hand further down his spine. He was just starting to loosen some of the earlier tension he had gathered there, when the door opened.
"Hello, Lee." His head snapped up to look at Becca coming in the door. She closed the door behind her, and Lee heard the door lock click as her hand slid behind her back. She stood there for a moment before dipping her chin down slightly and looking at him through her eyelashes.
"Becca." Lee took a step back towards his desk as Becca moved away from the door. She walked towards him with a purpose in those swaying, blue silk-clad hips. As she moved closer, Lee found himself backing up towards the desk until he felt it behind his right thigh. Knowing that he would not be able to move any further back, he slid his leg up onto the desk and casually sat there as Becca moved closer. Before she spoke, she had moved right up to him, leaning into his left side. He gently pushed her away from him.
"So, it's just you and me, Lee. No distractions, no interruptions, no little housewife." Except for the housewife comment, Lee realized how enticing that statement would have been if it had been spoken by his wife. Coming from Becca it sounded like it came from the south side of sleazy and it was very, very dangerous.
"Hey, Amanda's not a housewife. She's a fantastic agent, a wonderful person, a single mom who raised her two kids practically alone. Besides, I love that 'little housewife' as you put it."
"Oh Lee, come on, you're not serious." At this Becca rolled her eyes upward before focusing back on Lee with a little smile. "You must be bored out of your mind." Becca moved her hands up the sides of Lee's suit jacket lapels. Lee realized that all of the natural movements that Amanda had made over the last couple of years felt so foreign, so wrong when someone else made them. He felt a quick flash of anger at Becca for what she had been doing to Amanda, but reined it in quickly. He wanted to see where Becca was going with this, especially if he continued to resist.
"Maybe you would be, but I'm thrilled." Lee grabbed Becca's wrists and used that as leverage to move her away from him again while giving himself room to moved behind the desk. "Becca, I didn't realize it when you left, but it was time for me to make a change. I needed a positive change, a regular routine - something normal."
"Normal for you is Monte Carlo for a weekend off, skiing in the Alps, the Bahamas for a two week vacation, Lee." She pouted slightly as she tried to make her point clear. Lee pushed himself out slightly from the desk, and put his feet up on the corner before Becca attempted to come around and sit there.
"No, Becca. It's not. Not anymore. I had no idea what I was missing in my life until Amanda came along, and even then I fought it for a couple of years. She helped me figure out what was missing."
Becca smiled seductively. "I can show you what you're missing, Lee." Becca reached for the top buttons of her dress and started to unbutton them.
"No thanks, Becca." Just then, Amanda came out of the vault. She winked at Lee and he knew that she had heard everything that went on in the room. She moved across the room and brushed past Becca, who had dropped her hands from the buttons on her dress and started to move back from the desk.
"Hello, there. I didn't know anyone was in here. You just can't hear anything in that vault." Amanda leaned over to kiss Lee on the cheek before turning back to her own desk to work. "Is there anything I can do for you Becca? And you should button up, it's a little chilly in here, you don't want to catch cold." She turned her attention to the other woman, who shook her head before disengaging the lock on the door and leaving the two agents in peace.
Disclosure: Warner Brothers Television Distribution and Shoot The Moon Productions owns these characters, as well as to the writers, and actors who created and portrayed them. Generous references to the past and the events of the 4th season… I don't make any money off of this - my only reward is my personal satisfaction at having written a decent story (and the story is all mine). Oh, and any new characters that you meet along the way - those are creations from my own twisted imagination, so hands off, unless you ask for permission to play with them.
See Chapter 1 for more information on timing and all that other good stuff...
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She strolled past the receptionist's desk and held up her hand before the woman could speak. "I don't need an appointment, and I was never here," she stated in a cold and commanding voice. She placed her hand on the doorknob to the inner office and looked over her shoulder at the woman. "Comprende, madam?" The older woman simply looked at her and nodded, shocked at how similar she sounded as compared to the powerful man behind that thick oak door.
Becca opened the door, and could see the massive black leather chair turned so that the back was facing her. The only indication that someone was sitting in it was the plume of smoke that rose above the top of the chair. She closed the door behind her, and headed for one of the chairs on her side of the desk. She sat and waited, staring at the same map that the office's occupant was staring at, decorated with the multiple colored flags that indicated quiet missions, large operations, and sites where agents had lost their lives. A small crystal candy jar sat on the large and well-polished mahogany desk with more flags to be added as needed.
Others who had sat in this office under similar circumstances would have been sweating the minute they walked in, and chattering just to have some noise. The room felt like a massive library: quiet, filled with secrets and lies. She continued to watch the smoke rise from the chair and relaxed in her chair, and ran her hand lazily along its arm. She had no inclination to speak, knowing that her superior would turn around in time, and preferring to wait. She knew that he was waiting for her to make the first move.
She had made a mistake only once with him, early on. She had come into the office, and waited while he reviewed paperwork on his desk. After 15 minutes she got impatient, stood up and dropped her dress off. She had pulled herself slowly and, she thought, rather seductively back into the chair. Without looking up from his work he had ordered that she put her dress back on, or to go walk the District looking for a customer. She quickly dressed, and vowed never to go that route again with this man.
Dr. Smyth had heard Boo's voice in the outer office and hadn't moved from his mental review of operations. He knew that as she sat down in her favorite leather chair that she could sit there as long as necessary. She had come in once, and waited in that chair while he had left the office for 3 hours just so that she could make her point. The old man had the need to tap out his cigarette, and finally turned around to access the crystal ashtray - the match to the candy jar that held his multicolored flag pins.
"Well, well, little sheep, have you any wool?"
"Cut the rhymes, Austin. I'm not one of your little freshman flunkies and we both know it. Tell me how ironclad Amanda King's reinstatement is?" Becca sat with her arms crossed under her breasts; an automatic gesture for her, but one that wouldn't work for her in the current situation.
"Cut out the pouting ingénue act, Becca. It doesn't work with me. And wear undergarments to work, please. That just isn't sanitary." He tapped his cigarette holder against the ashtray again, raising an arched eyebrow back at the agent sitting in the visitor's chair.
Becca straightened up under his scrutiny, and moved her arms up across her breasts. Partly to satisfy Smyth's request, and partly because she suddenly felt like an uncomfortable teen that had just discovered she was the only girl in the class with a chest. "You didn't answer my question, Austin."
"I'm very aware of what I didn't do, Becca. The Stetson woman's re-instatement is as ironclad as they come, the Commander-in-Chief signed it himself. Nothing I can do about it, whether anyone likes it or not." He noticed Becca's discomfort at hearing the phrase 'Stetson' associated with Amanda King, and kept on with his statements, knowing he would get the upper hand. He also realized that by bringing Dobson back in for this purpose from the field had been a tactical error. "She's also officially Scarecrow's partner again, so you'd better look to clear out that little love nest that you were hoping to build in the Q with Stetson. I hear love birds mate for life, and Stetson finally found his." He puffed again lightly on his cigarette, hoping that the stub would last until she left his office. He never changed it in front of other individuals, as that would make him seem more common, more on their level. And everyone knew that Austin Smyth was *not* only everyone else's level.
"Austin," Becca purred, "I'm sure there's something we can do to help my situation along, isn't there?" She leaned forward. This woman was willing to risk everything to try and get her way this time.
"Dobson, get out of here. There's nothing I can do to help you. Cut your losses and get a new caseload from Billy." Knowing that she would get the message, Smyth turned his chair back to the world operations map he maintained in his office. After a couple of minutes, he heard the woman get up and walk out, shutting the door none-too-softly behind her. He reached into the credenza in front of him and pulled out a fresh cigarette for his holder, and lit it, puffing away as he shook his head.
Women like Rebecca Dobson were the problem with agent relationships. Dressing and acting like that just distracts distracted from the mission at hand. 'Just like her mother,' Smyth thought to himself, while a small smile brushed across his face before vanishing, 'and if I had been smarter, *I* wouldn't have gotten distracted by her either.'
On the other side of the coin were female agents like Amanda King-Stetson: perfect spouse material. Smart and logical enough to be invaluable in the field, and the right woman to make critical agents go soft. Just like Scarecrow. He hadn't thought that his perennial lone-wolf agent would disappoint him by settling down, but stranger things had happened in this business. He was not going to succeed in breaking that partnership up - not from a professional or personal angle, but it had been worth a try. Again, he thought of Becca, and how big a mistake it was that he had brought her back in from that long and isolated assignment in the desert. The time away hadn't changed her, although it had been good for Stetson to get his mind back on his work. Then Amanda King had to be in a train station at just the right time, and throw everything back into flux. Smyth wondered how he was going to get Stetson focused back on more critical assignments.
Attempting to send him out of the country on contact zero wasn't going to go over well, and he wondered if he should push his luck. Something like that could send Scarecrow packing. He sighed and looked back over the operations map. Scarecrow had definitely been playing it safe since he married, and that wasn't the type of agent Smyth needed. Still, he and the housewife had the best solve rate in The Agency, and they had allies in royalty and government around the world. As he puffed away, he thought about whether or not that was enough to compensate for Stetson's new lifestyle.
Meanwhile, Lee found himself wearing a hole in the floor outside the Behavioral Analysis unit in the lower levels of The Agency. As he made what had to be his seventeenth journey across the hall, he bumped into someone, not watching where he was going. "Francine, I'm sorry." He had grabbed her arms to keep her from falling before realizing who it was.
"Lee? I thought you and Amanda were going to be working at home?" Francine's forehead furrowed, trying to recall what Billy had said about the two agents.
"Yes, we were, and Pfaff was supposed to come to the house to talk to Amanda, but he decided that it would be easier and more secure if she came here."
"Secure?"
"Yeah, meaning that I wouldn't hanging around a corner or a window listening in while my *partner*," this he emphasized by yelling the word at the door of the Behavioral Analysis offices, "sits in there and recalls how our job went south and how *I* almost died. And she's been in there for 3 hours!" His voice rose by a few degrees, but he backed off when the guards stationed nearby stepped forward slightly and became more attentive as he yelled.
"Settle down, Lee. Are you sure you're not biased about this?"
He looked up sharply at Francine, and while she regretted bringing this course of conversation up, she knew she had to continue. "Lee, Amanda's not just your partner. She's your wife. That can't help your objectivity about this."
"Can it, Francine. Enough with the pop psychology. I should be in there." Lee started to pace again.
"You're not the only one affected by this." Francine tried to lead him away from the B.A. unit, but was unsuccessful. "Amanda killed someone."
"In the line of duty, Francine. It's part of the job." He continued his movements, but in a much smaller space, and limited to almost circling Francine.
"Stetson, when did you become such a cynic? This is *Amanda* we're talking about. Housewife? Mom? Bakes great Christmas cookies? She used deadly force for the first time. Yes, it was in the line of duty. Yes, it's justified because she saved her partner's life. And it's personal because she saved her husband's life," at this Lee looked up sharply, almost guiltily. Francine continued, "but it isn't an easy thing to get over when it's the first time. No matter who is involved. And it takes a while to talk through," Francine laid her hand on Lee's forearm to still his movements around her. 'Especially when you're crying between every other word,' Francine though as she recalled her own first use of force. "Stop, you're getting me dizzy." She laid the back of her hand to her forehead, Southern-belle style, hoping to get a laugh from Lee, but failing.
Lee looked up from the floor to meet his friend's eyes, which were full of concern for he and Amanda. "First time. I remember the first time." His eyes got a faraway quality to them, as he seemed to stare through Francine. She wasn't sure if he was recalling the first use of deadly force, or if he was remembering the first time he met Amanda. She couldn't tell from the sentimental quality that was apparent on his face - he wasn't smiling, but wasn't overwrought about whatever it was he was recalling.
"Stetson, snap out of it, we're not talking women here." Francine smiled at the joke, hoping it would bring Lee back to the present. Presently, he shook his head, and chuckled at the joke.
"You're right, Francine. How did I get to be such a cynic? Amanda needs as much time as possible to heal from this, and if Pfaff can get her through the nightmare-"
Francine cut him off. "Nightmares? Amanda is having nightmares over this?" Concern clearly laced the blond woman's voice.
"Yeah. Only instead of shooting the bad guy-"
"She shoots you?"
"No. She freezes. Or she doesn't get there in time. Or she doesn't bump into the boxes, and I take a bullet between the eyes." Lee's eyes filled with pain and concern for his wife. "I need to be in there with her, Francine."
"No, you don't Lee. You need to be out here to support her when she comes out. You need to be available if Pfaff wants you to join the sessions. You're alive, Lee, because of Amanda, and you can support her through this. That's all that matters."
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Inside the B.A. unit, Amanda sat for most of the time on one of the chairs with her jean-clad legs stretched out in front of her, crossed at the ankles. She was mentally exhausted and that carried over into her physical being. Eugene Pfaff was lying on his own couch, licking his 5th Popsicle this session and Amanda had been ready to scream until she turned the tables.
They had covered her use of force in great detail the first hour and a half, along with the nightmares that went with it. How normal it is to have this sort of reaction, and how problematic it can be for an agent if it doesn't stop. How none of it was her fault, and that her partner was still alive, and that she was responsible for that action. And when Pfaff told her that she was psychologically sound to return to duty - that she had been for some time - that she was normal, Amanda laughed. "Dr. Pfaff, how normal is it for a single mother who's been a Little League coach and a Jr. Trailblazers den mother to be an employee of an Agency that no one is supposed to know exists?" Seeing her point, and the exclusive nature of her situation, they continued to talk.
The next hour was spent going over Amanda's doubts and fears and the terror she was starting to feel with each note and phone call to the house. She admitted to being more anxious about things, but in a negative way. And these fears were starting to manifest themselves in physical symptoms: she was more fatigued, got headaches easily, and occasionally felt a bit nauseous. Dr. Pfaff became more concerned - physical manifestations of anxiety symptoms were enough to ground a field agent permanently if they couldn't get past it - and it didn't matter if the reason for the anxiety was personal or professional.
"Why are you feeling insecure, Amanda? You snared the most eligible and wanted man in The Agency? And it's obvious to anyone with eyes that he would do anything for you." Dr. Pfaff looked over his half-glasses to the woman sitting on his couch, who looked back at him with slight doubt.
"I know that, but what about all those other women? The steno pool, the other female agents? I've heard the rumors, and I've had people tell me to my face: Lee will get tired of me and leave." And so began a round of talking about all the acts of kindness that Lee had done for her, and about *his* past.
Finally, after 2 and a-half hours, Amanda was feeling better about things. It wasn't that she had any doubts about Lee's feelings for her; she knew that he was dedicated to her. It just became too much with the harassment and the constant whispering and gossiping around her. When she felt they had covered that ground, Amanda asked about the Popsicle, and Pfaff's potential for high priced dental bills. He had admitted that they were starting to get a bit high and that Doc McJohn had been getting after him to cut back as well. "So eat granola bars - they're cheaper and better for you." And so began the next 45 minutes of going over why Eugene Pfaff was so addicted to ice cream and Popsicle bars. By the time they had exhausted that topic, Amanda believed the statement about how all therapists needed therapy for themselves. After a final re-iteration that she was fit for duty, and that he needed to start being more pro-active about not having a sugar fixation, Amanda stood up to go.
As she walked out of the B.A. unit, she felt the weight begin to lift from her shoulders. She took a deep breath and started looking down the hall for Lee. She found him sitting on the floor around the corner from the unit, with his arms wrapped around his legs, and his chin resting on his knees.
"Lee?"
He lifted his head and smiled. "Well, it's about time." He slowly stood up, feeling the joints in his knees creak slightly as we straightened up. Realizing what he had said, he held up one hand. "Sorry. However long it takes, it takes. I'll still wait out here for you."
"And you'll drive the guards crazy the whole time, I'm sure." Amanda looked towards the guards standing outside the B.A. unit, and one imperceptibly nodded at her statement. The other rolled his eyes upward before reverting to a solemn stare forward. 'Ah, those poor guys,' she thought to herself. "Come on," she linked her arm through Lee's, "let's go upstairs."
"Upstairs?" Lee wiggled his eyebrows and was promptly awarded with Amanda's elbow knocking quickly against his ribs and then settling back into its link with her husband's arm.
"Yes, I want to check on a couple of files in the Q."
"We can go home and get them brought over."
"Lee, we're already here, why wait any longer? Besides, I promise I won't be long." She was already steering their course towards the elevators that would lead towards the Q. Knowing that he couldn't resist her, he didn't complain. He knew that his wife would feel more useful in her element in the Q, and even if it were only for a couple of hours, then so be it.
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Lee glanced up at the clock for just a moment, taking in the time absentmindedly, and then did a double take. He looked across the office toward the sofa and found Amanda arranging files - surrounded completely by piles. "Amanda," he began softly so as not to harshly break her concentration.
"Hmmm?"
"Amanda, we've been here for two hours. I thought you were only going to be a few minutes."
"Whaa? Oh, the files. They're such a mess, Lee, and it will help us both if they're in order."
"What are all those piles?"
"Sorted by year, vaguely related cases… they're all ours. Any idea why they're all out?"
"No. I've been trying to figure out what phantom Becca's been chas-"
"Becca? She did this?" Amanda crinkled her eyebrows and nose at hearing this. "What could she have possibly been looking for? Lee, half of these files are inactive and should be archived. Why would she be looking through them in the first place? It's a stretch to relate most of them - the only obvious link is whether or not the subject was Russian, Romanian, American…" Amanda got up and started wandering around the office, not quite pacing, more like some random pattern in the office. She couldn't have paced in a straight line in the first place because of all the piles on the floor in the first place. Finally, after almost knocking a couple of piles over, she settled down at her desk and turned towards the typewriter, feeding a piece of paper into it.
"Amanda, what are you doing?"
"Just going to take a couple of notes down. It might help me try and make sense of this." She set her margins and started to type down notes. Lee was always amazed with the speed at which she typed; it almost rivaled the speed at which she spoke and thought.
"Amanda, they're just piles of reports."
"Lee." Amanda suddenly stopped typing.
"I know. I'll be quiet and let you finis-" Lee stopped at noticing the look on his wife's face. "Amanda? Amanda, are you ok?"
Amanda ripped the paper from the typewriter and stared at it for a long moment. She handed it over to Lee when she was done. "Lee, tell me what's wrong with this."
He took the paper and started reading her notes. He didn't notice anything other than Amanda hadn't finished the sentence she had started. "Look closely, Lee," Amanda chided him. He continued to look. After a moment of careful scrutiny he looked up at Amanda. As she nodded at him he softly said, "The 's' is dropped." Amanda smiled nervously.
"Yes, the 's' is dropped." Amanda got up from the desk, picked up a stack of files and headed for the vault. "The letters originated from this office, Lee."
"But from who?"
Amanda turned at the vault door and looked back at her husband with a surprised look. "You have to ask that, Scarecrow? Who else has access to this office besides you and me? Think about it." With that, she turned back into the vault, turned on the interior light and closed the door most of the way closed. Lee knew to take this as a sign to leave Amanda alone as she dealt with this new development. The stress that she had been under up to this point was nothing compared to the fact that a giant leap in the mystery as to who was harassing Amanda had been made.
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20 minutes later, Lee scratched his ear briefly before running his hand up through his hair and back around to rub his neck. There had been no noise from the vault where Amanda was working, and he didn't want to go in there not knowing if she was working or simply sitting on the floor finding her way out of frustration. He stood up and walked around the office to stretch out the kinks in his back and legs, and continued to rub his neck, dropping his head down to work his hand further down his spine. He was just starting to loosen some of the earlier tension he had gathered there, when the door opened.
"Hello, Lee." His head snapped up to look at Becca coming in the door. She closed the door behind her, and Lee heard the door lock click as her hand slid behind her back. She stood there for a moment before dipping her chin down slightly and looking at him through her eyelashes.
"Becca." Lee took a step back towards his desk as Becca moved away from the door. She walked towards him with a purpose in those swaying, blue silk-clad hips. As she moved closer, Lee found himself backing up towards the desk until he felt it behind his right thigh. Knowing that he would not be able to move any further back, he slid his leg up onto the desk and casually sat there as Becca moved closer. Before she spoke, she had moved right up to him, leaning into his left side. He gently pushed her away from him.
"So, it's just you and me, Lee. No distractions, no interruptions, no little housewife." Except for the housewife comment, Lee realized how enticing that statement would have been if it had been spoken by his wife. Coming from Becca it sounded like it came from the south side of sleazy and it was very, very dangerous.
"Hey, Amanda's not a housewife. She's a fantastic agent, a wonderful person, a single mom who raised her two kids practically alone. Besides, I love that 'little housewife' as you put it."
"Oh Lee, come on, you're not serious." At this Becca rolled her eyes upward before focusing back on Lee with a little smile. "You must be bored out of your mind." Becca moved her hands up the sides of Lee's suit jacket lapels. Lee realized that all of the natural movements that Amanda had made over the last couple of years felt so foreign, so wrong when someone else made them. He felt a quick flash of anger at Becca for what she had been doing to Amanda, but reined it in quickly. He wanted to see where Becca was going with this, especially if he continued to resist.
"Maybe you would be, but I'm thrilled." Lee grabbed Becca's wrists and used that as leverage to move her away from him again while giving himself room to moved behind the desk. "Becca, I didn't realize it when you left, but it was time for me to make a change. I needed a positive change, a regular routine - something normal."
"Normal for you is Monte Carlo for a weekend off, skiing in the Alps, the Bahamas for a two week vacation, Lee." She pouted slightly as she tried to make her point clear. Lee pushed himself out slightly from the desk, and put his feet up on the corner before Becca attempted to come around and sit there.
"No, Becca. It's not. Not anymore. I had no idea what I was missing in my life until Amanda came along, and even then I fought it for a couple of years. She helped me figure out what was missing."
Becca smiled seductively. "I can show you what you're missing, Lee." Becca reached for the top buttons of her dress and started to unbutton them.
"No thanks, Becca." Just then, Amanda came out of the vault. She winked at Lee and he knew that she had heard everything that went on in the room. She moved across the room and brushed past Becca, who had dropped her hands from the buttons on her dress and started to move back from the desk.
"Hello, there. I didn't know anyone was in here. You just can't hear anything in that vault." Amanda leaned over to kiss Lee on the cheek before turning back to her own desk to work. "Is there anything I can do for you Becca? And you should button up, it's a little chilly in here, you don't want to catch cold." She turned her attention to the other woman, who shook her head before disengaging the lock on the door and leaving the two agents in peace.
