Lee stretched out along the sofa of the small den, and watched Amanda putter around the kitchen through the open doorway. To his relief, the crazy Sunny personality had vanished the moment they'd stepped out of Delano's limo and she was back to being the Amanda he preferred. She'd gone to change out of the gown the instant they'd walked in the door, and to scrub off the makeup and "the icky feeling" as she'd put it.

"Don't say it," she'd admonished him with a soft smile when he'd opened his mouth. "You don't get to apologize for him being a handsy jerk. I knew what I was doing when I started distracting him for you. And you know he couldn't do much, not in a crowded restaurant with both you and Sammy watching him. He was just a bit creepy – that's all. And I don't have to see him again, right?"

"Not if I can help it," Lee had said quickly.

"Good," she'd ducked her head with relief in a way that suggested she might have been more uncomfortable than she was letting on.

The minute she'd disappeared upstairs, he'd been on the phone to Billy, not just to fill him in on the evening, but also to make sure someone would be keeping an eye on Amanda for the next few days of her 'house arrest'. He wouldn't put it past Delano to come creeping around if he thought her very 'open and understanding' husband wasn't around. Billy had been quick to agree – once he'd stopped laughing at Lee's description of their evening.

Watching her now, in her comfort zone, with the fake butler and maid gone and just the two of them here, he could almost laugh as well at her antics earlier. Delano would never hit on the woman in front of him in a million years.

"I can't believe we have an entire mansion to relax in and you've still ended up in the kitchen, Cinderella," he called out, teasing her.

"The kitchen is the heart of the home," she called back, her smile audible in her husky tone. "All the best parties happen in the kitchen, don't you know that?" She leaned back and looked at him from where she was stirring something on the stove. "You sure I can't make you some hot chocolate? The pantry's even stocked with those little marshmallows."

"No thanks. And I don't think marshmallows would go very well in this scotch either."

"You really shouldn't be having another one of those," Amanda gave him a reprimanding look. "Don't you think you've had enough to drink already tonight?"

Lee gave her a lazy grin. "Actually, this is only my second."

Amanda walked to the doorway and leaned on it, staring at him in confusion. "You've been drinking all night."

"I've had a glass in my hand all night," he corrected her, lifting the tumbler he was holding. "And thanks to Sammy, most of them were just ginger ale. The one I drank with Hollander at the bar was the only other real alcohol I've had."

"Really? Wow – you are really good at pretending to be just a little bit drunk," she said. "Do they teach you that in spy school?"

"Actually? Yes they do," he answered. "But tonight was trickier because I had to pretend to be just a little bit high as well."

"Yeah – tell me again why you had to do that?"

"Hollander was getting suspicious about me because Leland Cassidy's father had such a squeaky clean reputation – I guess it seemed unlikely to him that the son of such a well-known patriot would be interested in business with such a long time enemy. So I improvised." He gave a small shrug. "It's not such a stretch - kids who's been brought up in the lap of luxury are often the ones who end up looking for the worst possible ways to break the boredom and have way too much money to get into trouble with. I can list you off examples from royalty to Wall Street."

"Wow. Almost makes me glad my boys are growing up on just a single mom's salary and some child support," said Amanda lightly.

"From what I've seen, your boys have just about the most ideal life I can imagine," he answered, dropping his head back on the arm of the sofa, but not before Amanda saw the flash of sadness cross his face.

"Yeah," she said softly. "It'll be nice to get home again when this is all over."

"I'm sorry," he said, lifting his head. "I know I keep saying that," he went on as Amanda rolled her eyes, "but I really didn't mean for a simple invitation to a stupid reception to turn into this."

"Why Butch, it's like you don't even know me," Amanda grinned. "You should know by now that if there's trouble, it'll find me."

"I'm definitely going to ship you off to Bolivia for your own good if this keeps up," he answered, trying to match her smile.

"Oh my gosh!" Amanda suddenly exclaimed in horror and turned to run back into the kitchen.

"I was kidding!" he called after her.

"It's not that!" her muffled voice came from the other room. "I forgot I had the milk still on the heat and it's boiled over! Oh, darn it!"

The sounds of her annoyed distress and her efforts to clean up were suddenly drowned out by the ringing of the telephone on the table beside him. Lee sat up and glanced at his watch, wondering what intel the Agency could have come up with at this time of night that they'd need to know.

"Cassidy" he answered smoothly, just in case it wasn't someone from the Agency.

A familiar voice boomed down the line at him. "Cassidy my ass, Lee Stetson. Now just what the hell are you up to now?"

"Harry Thornton as I live and breathe!" said Lee with real delight. "Speak of the devil! How are you?"

"Devil indeed, you young pup! What's all this I hear about you taking Leland Cassidy's name in vain?"

"Well it was a bit of an accident, Harry. You know what it's like in the field sometimes," protested Lee. "And if I'd known you were on his Board of Directors and knew him, I'd have called you before now!"

"I don't just know him, Lee – he's my damn godson! I've known him his whole life!" said Harry. "Now, how about you explain to me why my briefing alerts are lighting up with people who are looking for information on him! He likes his privacy and I don't want anything messing with that. I've already been up one side of Billy Melrose and down the other and now I want your version."

"Well, like I said – it was an accident…" Lee quickly sketched out everything that had happened in the last 48 hours.

"You gave him a cocaine habit?" asked Harry, starting to laugh. "Leland Cassidy is the most clean-living, upright citizen I've ever known. He grows his own vegetables and raises chickens in his backyard!"

"Seriously?" asked Lee. "Isn't he a billionaire?"

"Seriously," said Harry. "And yes he is, but he actually lives a pretty quiet normal life out west. He's got a good head on his shoulders, that boy. Brilliant as all get out and one of the most imaginative inventors of our time, but remarkably level-headed all the same."

"Are you going to tell him about all this?" asked Lee, uncertainty audible in his voice.

"Oh hell yes," said Harry. "He'll bust a gut laughing."

"Really? He won't be angry?"

"No – like I said, he's got a good head on his shoulders and he's a good patriot to boot. But unlike you, he's got a preference for brunettes – so what's this Amanda girl you mentioned like? Pretty enough to be the real Mrs. Cassidy, I hope?"

Lee turned his head to look at Amanda, who was now sitting at the kitchen table, fluffy bathrobe pulled on over a flannel nightgown, feet tucked into bunny slippers and her hair piled on top of her head on a messy bun while she read the paper and sipped her hot chocolate. "She's beautiful," he answered.

"You trust her?"

Lee knew what Harry was asking – theirs was a business where everything depended on your trust in other people. "With my life, Harry. In fact I already have, more than once."

"Really? I haven't heard you say that in a long time, Son."

"I would follow Amanda King blind through a blizzard at midnight," Lee answered feelingly.

"Well, when this is all over, I want to hear all about her," said Harry, "but in the meantime, what can I do to help you fake your way through the next few days?"

Lee leaned over to grab a pen and paper. "Tell me everything you can think of," he replied. "You never know what's going to come in useful with these guys. But start with some stuff on his board of directors because I may be about to make them sound a bit sketchy too and I'll need to know who's coming after my hide when this is all over."

Harry's deep chuckle reverberated in his ear. "Don't worry, I'll leash 'em. Y'know Lee, my boy, it's been far too long since I've had to pull your ass out of the fire. I may have to get back in the game if you're going to make it this much fun."

"Oh no you don't, Old Man – you've had your turn. You just stay nice and retired and leave the fun to us spring chickens," Lee laughed at his old mentor.

"Who are you calling old, Scarecrow?" Harry growled. "You sound pretty cocky for a man who needs my help."

"I really do, Harry," said Lee, turning serious. "So start talking."

By the time Amanda wandered out of the kitchen twenty minutes later, Lee had filled four pages in his casebook with details he'd be able to drop into conversation with Hollander to back up his cover.

"Well, time for bed," she said, stretching her arms over her head and yawning. "Got that busy day doing nothing tomorrow."

"Yeah," said Lee absently, adding a few comments in the margins of his notes.

"You coming?" she asked, pausing at the bottom of the back stairs that led from the kitchen.

"Yeah, just gimme a minute, I… What?" Lee looked up in confusion, certain he must have misheard the question.

"Come on, Lee, you need to sleep too," Amanda answered reasonably. "No matter what you think, you're not actually some superhero who can't go without sleep after all. You should come to bed."

"I, uh… I'll come up in a minute," he stammered. "I just want to finish with this."

"Okay." Amanda drifted up the steps, yawning noisily again, then called down. "Lee? I'm all turned around up here. Which one is my room again?"

"Third door on the left. Mine's the master bedroom at the top of the stairs," he answered, flushing with embarrassment that he'd misunderstood her earlier. "Senior agent gets the biggest bed."

There was another pause and then he heard a shriek of laughter. Unable to resist, he got up and walked to the bottom of the stars and looked up.

"Everything okay up there, Kid?" he called out.

Amanda reappeared at the top of the stairs, grinning. "I just realized what that sounded like," she answered. "Guess we're back to me being the one who says that kind of stuff."

"Well, compared to some of the stuff you came out with at dinner, that was pretty tame," he laughed up at her.

"Yeah, who knew reading Mother's Judith Krantz novels would be useful in the spy business?" she beamed at him.

"You mean that wasn't from personal experience?" he couldn't resist asking. "How disappointing. Although I don't think I could ever be that understanding of a husband."

"Well, like the song says, 'I'm always true to you, Darling, in my fashion'!" She was trying to sound kittenish but was laughing too hard for it to work. "Are you going to bed soon though?" she asked. "I don't want to get up in the morning and find you flat out on the kitchen floor sleeping because you were working too hard."

"Yes, Mom, I'll go to bed soon," he mocked her.

"Good. See you in the morning. I'll make you breakfast before you go to work – you'll love my waffles." She turned to walk away down the upper hallway

"I don't really eat breakfast," he called after her. "Just toast and coffee is fine."

"You'll eat a decent breakfast and you'll like it," her response came floating down the stairs. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

"Yes, Colonel," he muttered under his breath, dropping his voice even though there was no possibility she could hear him anymore.

"I heard that!" Amanda called out, making him jump. She hadn't, of course, but she knew he had to have said something – it didn't matter what age boys were, not one of them was going to resist getting the last word.

Downstairs, Lee began to move around turning off the lights and then made his way upstairs in her wake, trying to ignore that tiny voice in his head.

I could get used to this.