Friday, November 27, 1987

1:23 p.m.

"Time's up.  Please fold your exam papers and place them on my desk." 

There was a scraping of chairs and shuffling of feet as, one by one, the freshmen candidates came forward.  Clearing my throat, I indicated the pile of folders on the corner table. 

"We'll be starting the 'hands-on' phase of this course on Monday," I informed them, adopting the singsong tone Beaman always used when addressing the freshmen.  "You'll each be responsible for a mock security review of one of our government facilities.  Select a case study and familiarize yourself with the specifics over the weekend."

Returning to my work, I pretended to grade the essays from the morning session.   When I'd told Mother teaching a few classes would be a piece of cake, I hadn't taken into account the Agency's hyperactive rumor mill.  As word of Scarecrow's return spread through the halls like wildfire, speculation was running even more rampant than usual. 

Just a few more minutes of this torture, I told myself, and then I'd be able to make my escape.  Although, the way my luck was running today, that awful Judy Jerome was probably lying in wait for me somewhere.   Or, the more likely scenario, she was baiting an ambush for Lee.  It would be so like that conniving little monster to assume she had just what the legendary Scarecrow needed.  Then again, maybe she did.  It was after one o'clock, and I still hadn't heard so much as a word from my husband.

A shadow fell across my papers as one of the freshmen paused by my desk.  I groaned under my breath.  On top of everything else, I was going to have to deal with Bob Sanderson.  The over-eager recruit could never wait to find out how he'd scored.  Why he bothered to worry, I'd never know; he'd already surpassed my record for spoiling the curve. 

"You know the rules, Sanderson."  I was careful to keep my grainy eyes glued to the sentence I'd just reread for the third time.  "Agent Beaman will post the grades when he returns on Monday morning."  When he didn't reply, I reached into the drawer and withdrew a thick file.  "In the meantime, why don't you concentrate on this?  You might find this facility interesting."

I heard a low laugh as large hands reached for the file.  "Statik Aerospace?  Don't you think that's kind of cruel, Mrs. King?"

My red pen slipped from my hands as I looked up into a pair of hazel eyes.  "It depends on your definition, I guess."  My voice squeaked.  "Sanderson enjoys a challenge."

"Seems more like an insurmountable task to me."  Lee studied me intently for a moment.  "You're a pretty tough act to follow, you know."

"So are you."

He dropped the file on the desk.  "No, Amanda.  I'm an idiot.  I never could see past the floor wax."

"If you're expecting me to argue that point, you're out of luck."  I couldn't keep my voice from shaking. 

"I'm not expecting anything of the kind.  After the way I behaved last night, you'd be justified in kicking me right out that door."

My knees knocked together as I stood up.  The simple sight of him sent my senses reeling, and I balled my hands into fists to keep from touching him.  "You shaved."

He tried to cover his embarrassment with a shrug, but didn't quite succeed.  "Yeah, well, when you're going to grovel, it doesn't hurt to weight the scales a little."

He had a point there.  I couldn't decide what I wanted to do more—hit him over the head or kiss him senseless.  But as my eyes burned from lack of sleep, I found I couldn't dismiss my anger.  "Where were you last night?"

"I ended up sacking out on the couch in the Q-Bureau." 

"The Q-Bureau?"

His complexion reddened.  "Yeah, well, I'd gone about three blocks before I remembered that I didn't have an apartment any more, and I didn't know where else to go." 

"You could have come home."

"I needed some time, Amanda.  Some time to wrap my head around everything that had happened." 

"I see."

He shifted his weight and brushed a hand through his newly cut hair.  "I didn't intend to stay away all night, but I guess my body had other ideas.  I closed my eyes for a second and suddenly it was morning.  I went to the house, but I must have just missed you, so I thought I might as well take the time to make myself presentable before we talked."

I folded my arms across my chest.  "It took you over six hours?"

"My barber had to work a bit to get all the dye out of my hair.  And I did a little shopping, too."  He laughed, trying to sound nonchalant.  "None of my clothes seem to, uh, fit."

Frowning, I observed him more closely.  Despite the pains he'd taken with his appearance, he looked achingly tired.  The dark circles under his eyes gave his face a pinched look.  And though the Agency-issue jumpsuit he'd been wearing last night had hidden it well, he was painfully thin.  "You look awful," I said before I could stop myself.

He gave a rueful laugh.  "Not quite the reaction I was looking for."

"This isn't funny, Lee."  A hard edge crept into my voice.  "Are you really okay?  And tell me the truth," I said as he showed signs of handing me another platitude. 

He shoved his hands deeply into his pockets and studied the floor.  "My blood pressure is a little higher than it should be."

"How high?"  Despite my irritation, concern seeped into my words.  "Are you on medication?"

"No.  Dr. Joyce feels it will correct itself if I take it easy, but . . . well, she's taken me off the active duty roster until the first of the year.  And I've been ordered to 'talk' to Pfaff," he added, with a groan.

"Oh, Lee—"

"I really will be fine, Amanda.  It just might take a while, that's all."  As my expression unconsciously softened, he leaned closer and pressed his slim advantage.  "I'm sorry for those things I said last night.  I find out the most incredible news a man could ever expect to hear, and instead of being happy about it, I react like a damn fool.  You have every reason to be furious with me."

"I'm not furious."  He raised an eyebrow.  "Well, okay, maybe just a little.  But I'm worried, too."

A look of sadness passed over his face.  "If I had to choose, I'd rather have you angry.  The last thing I want is to cause you more worry than I already have."

I chewed on my lip as I looked at him.  "You really think the news is incredible?"

"Of course I do.  I was just . . . surprised, that's all.  I never thought . . ." He blew out short breath.  "I'm sorry.  Talking about this is even harder than I imagined."

I rested my hand on his sleeve.  He was obviously overwrought and, while I didn't want to cause him more distress, I couldn't just let it go, either.  "Please, Lee," I said, increasing the pressure on his arm.  "I need to know what you're feeling."

He extricated himself from my grasp and paced the room a few times before finally settling into one of the student chairs.  Leaning forward on the arm piece, he scrubbed his eyes with the tips of his fingers.  "I feel incredibly . . . dirty, Amanda.  After the things I've been forced to do on this assignment, I . . . well, I don't even feel like I should be allowed in the same room with you.  And I sure as hell don't deserve to have a child."

"That's ridiculous—"

"It was the night you came to my apartment, wasn't it?"  His face darkened with an undefined emotion as he looked at me.  "The night I made you think I . . . the night I walked out on you."

I came around the desk and sat in the chair beside his.  The pain in his eyes stole the breath from my body, and I struggled to answer.  "Yes . . . I guess I wasn't thinking too clearly at the time.  I forgot I wasn't wearing my diaphragm, and, well—"

"Please don't apologize.  Nothing about this mess is your fault."

"Oh, Lee, it's not a mess, it's a miracle.  One I'm very, very happy about."

"You are?"  His voice sounded as unsteady as I felt. 

"Yes, sweetheart, I am." 

He shook his head.  "I can't even begin to imagine what it's been like for you, having to go through this on your own.  The boys must think I'm a first class jerk."

I rubbed at a pencil mark on the arm of the chair.  "They were a little upset at first.  It's been hard for them, having to keep up this charade—especially for Jamie.  But you're home now.  It will all sort itself out."

"What about you, Amanda?  I know how the Agency grapevine operates.  Everyone must have thought—"

"It hasn't been that bad.  Really."  As he regarded me skeptically, I added, "Francine's been a big help.  She has a distinct talent for forcing people to eat their words."

He squirmed as he met my eye.  "How's she doing?"

"I think she still has a tough road ahead of her, but she gets stronger each day."  I leaned back against my chair and smiled.  "She's actually spending Thanksgiving in San Francisco with her mother, and, well, she took Beaman home with her."

"Beaman?"  His eyes widened.  "Are you kidding me?"

"Junior Trailblazers' honor."  I raised my hand in a mock salute.  "I think they're an item, although neither one of them seems inclined to confirm my suspicions at the moment."

"Well, I'll be damned.  I guess there's more than one kind of miracle around here these days." 

"There sure is."

Lee's expression grew serious.  "Amanda, about Francine . . ."

"It's okay.  She explained to me how the two of you had to pretend . . . well, I understand.  Her life was at stake . . . both your lives.  I know that nothing happened."

"Thanks.  I appreciate your trust, especially after everything I . . ."  He abandoned his chair and began to pace the room again.  "Amanda, what I said to you last night, about you wanting me to clean up your mess.  It wasn't."

"Wasn't what?" I asked, confused.

"Your mess."  He stopped abruptly and faced me.  "I talked to Billy before I came down here looking for you.  Crumwald's team has submitted a preliminary report on the Karras interrogation.  He's talking under the drugs, it seems.  Arbaalk went after Francine because of a vendetta.  Evidently they'd targeted her because of what went down before, with Birol."

I stared at him with rounded eyes.  "Her impersonation of Magda Petrak?"

"Yes."  He shuffled his feet as he slowly approached me.  "That search for me you set in motion had nothing at all to do with what happened to her.  You aren't responsible for . . ."

I let my eyes close and drew in a shaky breath.  It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders.  It wasn't my fault . . . any of it . . .

I felt Lee's hands on my arms.  "Amanda," he was saying, as he shook me lightly.  "Come back to me."

I opened my eyes.  He'd squatted in front of me, and I smiled as I looked down into his worried face.  "It's not a flashback.  It's just . . . relief, I guess.  I've felt guilty about what happened for so long—especially when Francine refused to let me shoulder any of the blame."

Lee gazed at the far wall.  "And I sure as hell didn't make matters any better by throwing that in your face last night.  I had no right to do that, especially after the way I lied to you."

I bit my lip.  "I lied to you, too, you know."

"You didn't—"

"Yes, I did.  I should have told you about the baby.  I think a part of me was just so bitter about everything that . . ."  I looked down at the floor.  "That I wanted to hurt you . . . the way you'd hurt me.  I'm so sorry."

"It doesn't matter, Amanda—any of it.  All I care about is that you're okay.  It's all I've ever cared about."

"I am okay, Lee," I said, suddenly realizing how true that was.  The storm had blown itself out at last.  Karbala . . . Arbaalk . . . they were only words now.  I'd started down a long, dark tunnel that day Birol had grabbed me from the van, but I'd finally come out safely on the other side, into the sunlight.  While I might never be able to eradicate the memories of my ordeal, I could certainly limit their power over my life.  Addi Birol was a part of my past.  Like Lee, I'd survived.

I leaned forward and cupped my husband's face, brushing my thumbs lightly across his chin.  "Hey, why don't we make a pact?  From here on out, we'll keep the past where it belongs."

He looked up at me.  "You think we can do that, after everything that's happened?"

"Yes, I do.  If there's one thing my sessions with Pfaff have taught me, it's that you have to move forward.  It's helped me, Lee; he's helped me.  You were right to insist that I see him." 

He rolled his eyes.  "Point taken.  I'll see the shrink if you want me to."

"Good."  I smiled.  "You know, Stetson, with a little luck, Dr. Pfaff might just succeed in making you a 'normal' person."

He snorted.  "Whatever that is."

"It's you and me.  It's Phillip and Jamie . . . Mother . . . our new baby . . . it's all of us being able to live together as a family, with no more secrets.  If anything positive has come out of all this pain, it's that.  You know, we have an awful lot to look forward to, you and I."

"A family . . ."  He gave me a bashful smile as he let his hand rest gently on my belly for the first time.  "I think you might just be right, Mrs. Stetson."

I covered his hand with mine.  "I know I'm right.  You'll see that everything—"  My eyes widened as my fingers touched cool metal.  "Lee, you're wearing your wedding ring!"

"You bet I am."  He stood and reached into his pocket.  "And I think it's high time you did, too."

I stared open-mouthed at the rings he placed in my palm.  "Are you sure?  If we put these on here, there's no turning back."

He looked pointedly at my protruding stomach.  "It's a little late to turn back, don't you think?  Besides, I thought we'd just agreed to move forward."

"But what about Dr. Smyth?  Did he okay—"

"Amanda."  He pulled me to my feet.  "I don't need some damned bureaucrat's okay to tell the world how much I love my wife.  Or my child, either, for that matter.  As for my career . . . well, maybe it's time to rethink a few things."

I stared at him incredulously.  "You can't be serious."

"Don't worry."  A grin spread across his face.  "I promise we won't have to eat macaroni while I figure out what I want to do."

I groaned.  "You've been talking to Mother."

"She didn't say anything I wasn't already thinking.  There are other options out there, you know."

I fought to control my smile.  "So I hear."

"And I meant what I said about the macaroni.  You don't have to worry about money.  I negotiated a pretty handsome stipend from Smyth before I took this assignment.  So you and the boys would be okay in case, well, you know."

"Oh, Lee, this was never about money.  I just want you to be happy."

He rocked back on his heels to look at me.  "You know, a very wise lady once told me that even the great ones need to know when to let go.  I think I just might be ready."  He gently fingered the rings still resting in my palm.  "So, what do you say, Mrs. Stetson?  Are you ready to put these on, once and for all?"

I pursed my lips as I looked into his eyes.  "You're really sure?"

He stepped closer and brushed his lips through my hair.  "I've never been surer of anything in my life."

I let out a deep breath.  My eyes on his, I slowly and carefully replaced the rings on my finger, the same way Lee had done that day in Marion, all those months ago.  Except, this time, it would be different.  This time, we could finally be Mr. and Mrs. Stetson to the world.

I gazed down at the diamond sparkling next to the gold band on my finger.  "Oh, wow!" 

His hands swallowed mine, enclosing them in warmth.  "I love you, Amanda."

A feeling of the most perfect happiness welled up inside me.  Linking my arm through his, I tugged him purposefully toward the door.  "Walk with me."

His brows shot up as he recognized the words he'd used long ago.  "Are you in trouble?"

I smiled softly.  "Not anymore."