What a cruel thing war is . . . to fill our hearts with hatred instead of love for our neighbors. - Robert E. Lee

After soaking in the tub until the water had turned tepid, she dragged herself out and dried herself off. She then slipped into the clothes Lee had laid out for her. Luckily, the black t-shirt came down to just above her knees because the grey shorts, while they did have a drawstring waist, were very short. She wondered briefly if he picked them for their length, or lack there of, rather than their cinch-ability. Why did he have such short shorts anyway? She mentally shook the thought from her head, not wanting to follow that rabbit down the hole. More importantly, the clothes were comfortable. There was something very intimate about wearing his clothes. There it was again, that flutter in her stomach. It was making an appearance in her life more and more these days. She sighed as she towel dried her hair before running a comb through it.

Standing on her tiptoes, she used a hand towel to wipe the fogged mirror and stared at her reflection. She had to admit, she felt better than she had; she was more relaxed and felt almost human again. It had been quite a week to say the least. If someone had told her a week ago that she would be standing in her handsome partner's bathroom smelling of his shampoo and soap, wearing his clothes, she would have told them they were crazy, but here she stood . . . while he was out there. Amanda glanced at the door to the bedroom and sighed in resolve. It was now or never . . .

She found Lee sitting on the couch watching the news. He quickly turned it off when she sat down next to him.

"Feel better?" He queried, placing his left arm on the back of the couch.

"Much. Thank you."

"Well, I grabbed you a glass of water to take with your pain medication." He indicated the glass and white, round tablet sitting on the coffee table in front of her.

"Uh-uh." She shook her head. "I really prefer not to take that again. It made me so sick last night, Lee."

"A-man-da! You got sick because you chased it with a big glass of scotch!" He picked up the glass and placed it into her hand and then placed the small pill into her other palm. "Your body needs to heal, this will help. Doctor's orders."

"Since when do you follow doctor's orders anyway?" She sighed in surrender before throwing back the pill and gulping the water down. She stuck her tongue out at him to show him she'd done what he'd asked and to show him she wasn't happy.

"I started following orders when I found my best friend passed out on my couch." His voice quivered and he reached out to hold her hand. "And I'll do whatever it takes to get her healthy again." He sighed and let go of her hand before rubbing the back of his neck.

She swallowed hard and patted his knee before looking down at her feet. That was one of the sweetest things he had ever said to her. She'd surely lose it if they made eye contact now.

"Hey, let's get this cream on so you can get some shut eye, huh?" He grabbed the tube sitting on the coffee table and quickly unscrewed the cap.

And like that, his mask was back in place. She sat up straighter as he came closer to her, pressing his knee to hers forcing her to open up her legs to let him wiggle in between her legs.

"Honestly, Lee I can do this myself. You don't have to baby me."

"Would you just let me help you, Partner?" He gave her his best stern look, but it fell short when he winked, and she smiled.

"Oh! That hurts!" Amanda sucked in her lip and could taste a hint of blood on her tongue. "Don't make me laugh, Lee! Ooooh! My lip is bleeding again."

"Let me see." With a look of concern evident on his face, he held her chin in his hand and examined her mouth. "You know, I've found that keeping them lubricated -"

Amanda's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Oh brother! Really, Scarecrow?" She giggled at his obvious embarrassment. Was that a blush she saw on his handsome face?

"I meant . . . using Vaseline or Chap Stick helps them from splitting back open." He shook his head and smirked at her.

Amanda stared into her partner's hazel eyes as he still held her chin in his hand, and she absently licked her dry split lips.

That must have been his undoing because it was then that he released her chin and slid his hand to the back of her neck, her breath seemingly being sucked out of her as he slowly pulled her to him.

His eyes locked with hers, as if requesting permission to continue. She closed her eyes in response and was rewarded with the most tender kiss she'd ever experienced. The moment his lips touched hers she felt almost an electric current pulsing through her body. She was certain she never wanted that feeling to end, so when he pulled away she couldn't help the quiet whimper that escaped.

She opened her eyes only long enough to pull him back to her to continue kissing him. Amanda knew he was holding back, afraid he would hurt her. At that moment she wasn't feeling any pain and didn't want this moment to end, so she slid her hands up his chest and around his neck, virtually locking him to her. Her right hand playing with the nape of his neck before her nails did what she hoped were unimaginable things to his scalp. She felt a sense of power when he groaned in response and she could feel tiny goose bumps forming on the back of his neck.

With his hands on her upper arms, he pulled her back with him against the couch, their lips never leaving each other and then he deepened the kiss and she willingly opened to allow his tongue to plunder her mouth. She could feel his heart rapidly beating in time with hers, which oddly calmed her. His warm hands slowly made their way to her hips, and then slid up the inside of her blouse, grazing her ribs.

Despite the heady feeling his touches were causing, memories came flooding back from the evening before when Patrick had beaten her in a punishing rampage.

6:08 p.m. Friday, March 14, 1986

Patrick's hands were now digging into her ribs, causing her to scream out in pain. Her previous attempts to fight back seemed to only fuel his rage, resulting in a split lip, and a sock in the eye, that she was certain would swell shut in no time. Just when she thought she couldn't take anymore, his large hands were wrapped around her neck again and he squeezed tightly. As she gasped for precious air, he glared at her with clenched teeth, spitting as he screamed unintelligible things at her. "Youuuuu . . . Liar! Never trust . . . Women! Stupid!"

Amanda grasped at his hands, her nails gouging into his hands, while kicking him repeatedly as hard as she could. Just as she started seeing white stars from the lack of air, he released his vice grip from around her neck and she crumpled to the floor. Apparently, he finally had enough and, pulled out his 9mm gun, then yanked her to her feet before aiming the gun at her head.

"It's a shame, Lass. You're much too pretty to go out like this." His free hand slid down her neck to the opening of her blouse, smiling menacingly at her as he groped her breast roughly. "I had much bigger plans for you . . . for us." He cocked the gun in his right hand, while grabbing a handful of her hair in his left, forcing her to him. When he clamped down onto her mouth and shoved his tongue into her mouth for several seconds she fought the bile down in her throat. "Perhaps before I kill you, we can have that romp that we missed out on after you drugged me." He growled and then winked before ripping her shirttails from her dress pants and unzipped his jeans, his intent frighteningly clear.

Knowing it was now or never, Amanda pulled her leg up and kicked him square in his groin, socked him in the throat, and then took the element of surprise to quickly knock the gun out of his hand with her elbow, just as Francine had shown her, not too long ago. The gun skidded across the tile floor and under the bed, before she finally heard it slam against the wall. The man's howls of pain echoed throughout the small room.

She scrambled to the door, hands trembling, as she attempted to open it. The sounds of him groaning and trying to right himself, urged her on. Finally she threw the door open and flew down the stairs of the motel to the parking lot below. Running as fast as she could to the busy intersection in search of a cab, police officer, a helpful bystander, anyone that could help her escape the madman that was determined to kill her.

She sucked in sharply as Lee's hands gently squeezed her ribs.

"Oh, God! Amanda I'm sorry! I hurt you." Lee pulled his hands out from under her blouse as if he was burned.

"No, I'm fine; really, Lee. She pulled his hands into her lap, refusing to let go. "I promise, I'm fine. It's just a bit tender there."

"The look in your eyes is proof that it's more than a 'little tender', Amanda. Let me see. Lift your shirt up."

"Geez, Scarecrow! Aren't you moving a little fast?" She teased trying to distract him.

"A-man-da!" He warned. "I saw the pain in your eyes when I touched you. Now let me see, dammit!" He tugged on the bottom of her t-shirt and pulled it passed her rib cage. Obviously not carrying that her bra-covered breasts were exposed.

"L-e-e." She pleaded as she attempted to pull her shirt back down to cover the black and blue handprints that covered her torso. Finally getting him to release the hem, she pulled it down, straightening some imaginary wrinkles, and she sighed.

"Jesus, Amanda! He untangled himself from her and stood from the couch abruptly and paced the length of the couch. "Why didn't you tell me how bad this was?"

"Flashback." She muttered.

"I wouldn't have - Wait, what did you say?" He halted his pacing and stared down at her.

"It didn't hurt that badly. I just . . . flashed back to when . . . he was hurting me." She whispered and then looked up to the ceiling to keep the tears from falling.

Lee rushed over to her and sat down next to her. He pulled down her chin to force her to look him in the eyes. "Hey, you're here with me. He can't hurt you anymore. I won't let him. You hear me, Amanda?" He dipped his head down and kissed her tenderly, careful to avoid the battered side of her mouth.

She attempted to stifle a yawn when her partner came back for a second kiss. "Oh, Lee. I'm sorry. It's that damn medicine you made me take. I can't seem to keep my eyes open."

"I see how it is, Mrs. King." He feigned a pout. "You get what you want and then fall asleep on me." He joked. "Alright, young lady." He stood up and grasped her hand to help her off the couch. "Time for you to get some sleep."

Amanda kept hold of his hand and pulled him to her. "Will you stay with me?" she whispered. Her eyes growing heavy, she fought to keep them open.

"Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you . . ." The double meaning of his statement was not lost on either of the unlikely pair. "I mean, I don't want to rollover and hurt you."

"Just hold me and then you won't rollover onto me." She said logically and tugged on his hand toward the bedroom.