A Very Little Romance

Friday, October 10, 1986

"I may be sleepy, but I'm not dead."

With those words, Amanda pulled Lee, who had just kissed her and pulled back, back down for another kiss, then two, then three, before he sat back on his haunches and stroked tender fingers across her face. "Feel like eating?" he asked. "I made frittata, and there's champagne."

"Yes, I heard you talking about it - something about a chef on the Isle of Capri?"

"That's right. Do you think you could eat just a little? You've been going nonstop for days now, and it can't be doing you much good."

"I can try, since you went to all that trouble- and because you worry about me," she added. She stood up and walked the short distance to the table; he followed with their flutes of champagne.

"If I drink more than a sip of that, I'll pass out, I'm so tired," she said.

"Then just a sip, and then a few bites of the food, just to humor me?"

"Yes."

He served up the frittata and watched anxiously as she took a few bites; when she set her fork down, he knew she was finished.

"I'm sorry, Lee," she said. "It's wonderful, I know, and you went to all that trouble, but I just…."

"I understand. There will be other times and other frittatas."

"Thank you for understanding."

"Amanda, I love you, and I can see that you're exhausted, so I'm certainly not going to get my nose out of joint over something this petty. Is your mother expecting you home any time soon?"

"No. Ever since the whole Stemwinder business, she's stopped asking questions."

"Maybe that's best. Come on, let's get you into bed so you can sleep for about twelve hours straight."

"Oh, that sounds heavenly."

She didn't protest when he carried her into the bedroom and set her down on the bed. "I've still got our pajamas," he said, moving to the Queen Anne highboy where he kept his folded clothes. He opened a drawer and took out a pair of men's flannel pajamas, a cheap pair they'd bought at a discount store when they were on the run during the Stemwinder case, and handed her the pajama top.

"You kept them?" she said, as she rubbed her face against the soft flannel.

"Oh, yeah. That thing may not be a pricey negligee from Rebecca's Fantasies, but you look fabulous in it. I'm going to go put the food away and secure for the night; there's an extra toothbrush in the drawer in the bathroom."

When he came back, the pajama pants – his part of the set – were lying on the bed and she was under the comforter, turned onto her left side, as always. "Amanda?" he said softly. No response. Yeah, she was well and truly out for the count. Chuckling, he changed out of his street clothes and went into the bathroom, wearing only the pajama pants.

A few minutes later, he came back out, got into bed, and rolled over onto his right side so that he was facing her. She never stirred. "Good night, Amanda Panda," he said softly, and then he, too, fell asleep.