Disclaimer: I don't own the situations or characters portrayed herein. I'm just playing with them for a while.


The Khrushchev List

He loved Amanda with everything he had and with everything he was. So he wasn't sure how things had gone so horribly wrong.

He thought back over their worst arguments, and realized they all had one thing in common: being unable to communicate properly, whether over jealousy or concern for her safety.

This one didn't feel like the argument they'd had when she thought of resigning during the Rollo case, but it did feel like the one they had in the hallway outside his apartment after Amanda met Leslie. It didn't seem to be out of jealousy of another person, but it had the same intensity behind it.

He had known all along that she had a wicked jealous streak in her nature. It had shown up early, with Margot, and had been on full display with Randi. The argument they had about Leslie had been the most vocal example of it. The worst had been after they were engaged, and she was helping him sort out his apartment. She'd had a full year's worth of jealousy about the black books just stewing for a while, and it showed. He'd tried to make light of it, calling it curiosity, but it had been an awful week, even though it turned out well.

He knew he was no better. Jealousy had reared its ugly head in him even earlier than it had with her. James Delano, charming her at dinner. David Benson, with his predatory pickup lines. Angelo Spinelli, with their easy camaraderie (even as he had given her every reason to be jealous over Eva). Allen Squires, with the awful concubine ring. Connie Barnhill. The lint-picking Count von What's-His-Face in Germany. Bryce Topping. Byron Jordan. James Brand. Alan Chamberlain.

Joe King. That one still rankled.

He sighed, running his hand through his hair, and reached for a notebook. He hated that he did things that upset her, but it wasn't like she was absolutely innocent either. Maybe Billy's way might help: writing down everything that was bothering him.


She hung up on him.

She'd never actually hung up on him before.

Why had she hung up on him?

Any girlfriend that hung up on him had been gone by the time he got back to his apartment.

Would she leave him too?

Was this the moment when she realized just how awful a person he really was?

Would he be divorced before he even had a shot at being really married?

"When will I ever learn?" he asked Billy's office, forlornly, and jumped a little when he realized Billy was there too.


He opened the door to his apartment, deliberately placing his keys on the table by the door. He could compromise. At the moment, he just wanted his wife to feel safe in his presence, and he knew that the six pages of things she did that drove him crazy had made her feel anything but safe.

She had nearly died, and his world had nearly crumbled. But when she was back in his apartment for any length of time, truly able to be Mr. and Mrs. Stetson again for the first time since the night of their wedding, he had written out a staggeringly long list of minute things he would change about her.

And that was petty, and insensitive, and even cruel.

So he approached her cautiously, testing the waters to see how hurt she was.

"Hi."

There was no response.

"Uh, I just saw Harry. He's been discharged from the hospital. He is looking great."

She looked up and nodded without making eye contact, but her mouth looked hurt and her face looked haggard.

"What are you doing?" he asked, and the panic started to come through a little in his voice.

"I'm writing you a note," she said, deliberately, and he realized with a sinking feeling that she had been about to leave.

"Ah, Amanda, I realise that making that list was a very stupid thing to do. I mean, everybody does silly little things that bothers the other person."

How he thought that was an adequate apology was beyond him, but the fear of pushing her away was blinding him.

"Do you have flowers behind your back?" she asked, and he felt a stab of fury at Joe, amplified by his anger at himself.

"No."

He pulled the notepad out from behind his back and walked over to her.

"More complaints," she said, dully.

The fact that she thought this spoke volumes about all the things they still needed to talk about.

"No. It's a list of all the things that I love about you," he said, kneeling down in front of her.

She smiled, at long last, and stopped him from kissing her with a finger on his chin.

"Better be a long list," she said, but the life and warmth had returned to her voice, and she was the one who leaned in for a kiss.

He pulled away, looking at her, and he realized, with a swooping sense of relief, that things would be all right.

They were stronger than an argument.