Written by Scooplet

Concept by Cheryl and Scooplet

Scarecrow and Mrs. King characters are the property of Shoot the Moon Productions and Warner Bros. Television. No copyright infringement intended. Not for commercial use. Sarah Stetson, Matt Granger, and the other characters not found in the television show are my creation, however, so please respect my right to claim ownership of them—I do not authorize permission to use them in stories not authored by me.

The Eyes of the Father

Chapter Six

The light was bright, far too bright. And she felt smothered, except it was her hearing that was muffled. No. She was underwater. But she felt wrong. Was she sick? She could not move. Then someone was grabbing her roughly, carelessly. It couldn't be Matt. He wouldn't touch her there. And he wouldn't hurt her. Whoever it was had managed to get their arm around her middle and hoist her to her feet. She retched, but nothing came up. Now her captor was dragging her through a door—a door to a garage. It banged heavily against her leg, unlike the interior doors of the townhouse. And they were still not outdoors.

Oh! I'm in the safe house. And it's Brad. He's taking me away. Yell! Say something! But waves of nausea were overwhelming her and she could not see very well or hear anything. Where is Matt? Oh God, please let him be okay. Why can't I seem to fight back? Her feet bumped painfully against the concrete steps, her thin slip-ons offering no protection against the rough treatment. Then she was retching again; this time she could taste bile. No breakfast yet. Nothing there.

Now she was lying in the backseat, the car engine roaring to life as Brad punched the accelerator. The Agency vehicle had been parked with the front of the car facing out of the garage, so she and Matt could make a quick getaway if needed. Now Matt was nowhere to be seen and Brad was taking her away. Where is Matt? Oh, I'm going to be sick again. Please God, please don't let me be sick. Please help me.

The car fishtailed as it left the driveway and turned onto the street, making Sarah's stomach turn. She started to gag, but nothing came up. An angry voice came from the front seat, but Sarah could not make out the words. She tried to sit up, but the car was moving too quickly and she was too dizzy. Please help me, God!

A persistent electronic melody sounded in Sarah's ear. It did not seem to be coming from the car. She tried to say something, but no words would come to her lips. Finally, she opened her eyes. She was no longer in the car, but in her darkened bedroom in the apartment.

"Oh!" Sarah cried out as she sat up suddenly in bed, pulse racing. The dream had been so real. Now that she was awake, painful memories of her deposition came uninvited.

"Certainly you must have given him some reason to think you were interested, Miss Stetson. You said he brought you breakfast. And he came over while you were dressing."

Sarah had been shocked by the prosecuting attorney's questions. It was as if Jacob Klein was implying that Sarah encouraged Brad. She had grown defensive. "Surely anyone watching the footage would know that I have a relationship with Matt. I'm engaged to him now. I told Brad that he was out of line, coming by at that hour. And I forced myself to be polite to him. I just wanted him out of the townhouse."

"So you drank some of the shake he brought?"

"I pretended to take a sip."

"You did not swallow any?" Why are they asking me this? Think! Did you swallow? "I might have gotten a little. I was nervous and scared, to be honest."

Greg Peterson had nodded, as if he were pleased with her, while Klein had had a self-satisfied expression. Brad Smith's attorney had seemed tense and upset. Sarah knew that something had been wrong with the smoothie. Now she wondered if it had been drugged. Her father had warned her repeatedly never to take drinks at parties for that reason. Actually, he told me never to go to parties. Mom told me not to take drinks from strangers. If she had been drugged, it would have been hard to know. Unless…maybe a blood test had been ordered. She had shuddered at the thought during the deposition, and she shuddered again now. Thank you, God, for helping me get away from Brad.

Her mind returned to the deposition. Now Klein was speaking again. "Miss Stetson, could you please tell us what happened next? Just tell the story—I'll stop you if we need more details."

Sarah retold the events in as much detail as she could remember. She was describing being dragged to her feet when the prosecuting attorney interrupted her again.

"Did Brad Smith touch you, ah, inappropriately, as he pulled you to your feet?"

"Objection! Miss Stetson has not stated that the person was Brad Smith."

"My apologies. Please strike that question. Did anyone touch you inappropriately, Miss Stetson?"

"The person grabbed me roughly, touched me—but it was clumsy…"

"So, he did touch you on the chest?"

"Yes, but it was accidental."

Peterson frowned at the prosecutor, but Klein looked smug. Sarah remembered her palms sweating. Her mother's words echoed in her head. "When in doubt, be honest. Don't let the attorneys upset you. They'll ask rude, intrusive questions." This was certainly intrusive.

Mercifully, Sarah's half-dream ended abruptly. Now she was fully aware of the electronic melody. It was her phone, set to wake her up for work. Reaching over to take the phone, Sarah swiped the screen and shut off the alarm. There was a text from Matt. He was already up, no doubt in the middle of his workout by now.

"Good morning, Beautiful. Only twenty-three more days until we won't have to text our good mornings to each other anymore. I love you."

Her hand shook as she typed her reply, causing her to start several of the words over. "Good morning to you, too, my love. I really needed your text today. Thanks for the wonderful reminder. Love you, too."

As she started her morning stretches, she pondered the idea of telling Matt why she needed the text but decided to wait. They had the concert with her parents tonight, and Matt had his own deposition to worry about. While they both had thought the attorneys were done with Matt regarding Brad Smith, he had been summoned once again. He doesn't need to worry about me and my nightmares. It's all the questions, reliving what happened. Now I'm dreaming it. I hope he isn't having nightmares, too. She remembered their conversation from the night before.

"It's my fault. I probably gave them reason to question you again." Sarah had been fighting tears. She had vowed to herself that she would not give Matt any details from the deposition, hoping he would understand. It was too hard to talk about. And she did not want to upset him. Better to wait until later. Now she may have made it harder for Matt.

"Oh, sweetie. This happens. They warned us it would. You had to answer the questions honestly. I'll be okay."

Last night they had not had the luxury of sitting together and talking. Matt's evenings on Maplewood Drive or at their weekly pre-marital counseling sessions had kept him from packing, so they had decided earlier in the day that they would go their separate ways after work. Each of them would spend their Thursday night boxing up as much as they possibly could. The more they packed, the more time they would have to relax on the weekend. Sarah had finished packing up everything except her important papers and the things she would need in the bathroom. Even her food was now in boxes—she could just pull the cereal box out of a carton instead of the cupboard.

Sarah knew that Matt had more to put in cartons, but she would help him with the kitchen things on Sunday. She was going to be the one who set up the kitchen in the new apartment. Even though Matt cooked, too, he was letting her organize the work space. "You're the one who has the most talent in that department."

"Oh, that was diplomatic, Mr. Granger. You know that you're hoping I'll do most of the cooking."

He sounded like he was worried that he had offended her. "But I'll cook, too. I'll help with the laundry and the cleaning. Do shopping…"

"Oh Matt. Stop worrying. I know I'm more of a cook. Besides, I'm no feminist. I may need your help making dinner if I have to work late, but I think it's nice you're letting me be in charge of the kitchen."

"You won't be cooking if I'm home before you. Remember those vows we wrote out? I'm promising to take care of you. That means having dinner ready for you if you've had a long day. But let's face it. You are the better cook. End of discussion."

"And I'm promising to take care of you. So I'll bake muffins."

Matt had laughed then.

Her phone buzzed, bringing her back to the present yet again. She looked at the text. "You okay? I prayed for you."

"I'm okay. Praying for you, too. I'll be helping Jamie this afternoon. Having lunch with him, remember? Is that still okay? Do you need me to have lunch with you?"

Putting the phone down, she got out of bed and prepared for her morning run. It was going to be cold, so after stretching some more, she donned her thick knit cap and her heavy sweatshirt over her long underwear and athletic top, as well as a pair of sweatpants. Grabbing the scarf she used for running, she wound it loosely around her face and neck, tucking the ends down in her jacket. It's tempting to call Daddy and ask if I can use their elliptical. But I'd probably wake him and Mom up.

She picked up her phone. Matt had replied to her last text. "I remember. Keep your date. Rene wants to have lunch today. I'll look for you when I'm done with the dep. and let you know how it went."

At least Rene is looking out for him, too. Sarah knew that Rene was worried about both of them. She smiled to herself as she tucked the phone in her pocket, mindful of her father's and Matt's admonishments to keep her phone with her at all times. It was Agency policy, but for them it was also a safety precaution after all that had happened that fall. Her thick gloves on her hands, she smiled ruefully as she stepped outside, hoping no one was tracking her GPS this morning. She was not going far in this cold.

In his apartment, Matt was running on his treadmill and watching the television, but his mind was not on the news program. Something had not seemed right about Sarah's texts. Maybe it was a gut feeling. Or maybe he was worrying too much. You're reading between the lines, Granger.

The attorneys had grilled Sarah for two days that week. He had driven her home after Wednesday's deposition, but she had insisted upon driving herself back and forth from work on Thursday. "We both need to pack up our apartments or this move is not going to happen."

"We have plenty of time to pack."

"Not this weekend. And next week is the move."

"You have a point." They had joked around then, but both of them had been worried about Thursday's deposition. He had not pressed Sarah for too many details on Wednesday, but she told him enough to know that the attorneys had just gotten started with her.

Thursday morning he had waited outside the conference room for as long as possible, but he was on the clock that day. A lunch meeting was called about the University of Virginia case, so he was forced to leave. When he returned with sandwiches left over from his meeting, Sarah was still with the attorneys. When they finally broke for lunch, she was given half an hour. Matt spent the time with her, grateful he had something for her to eat. In another conference room nearby, she had been content to sit in a chair pushed up against his, with his arm around her.

He could not sit in the hallway that afternoon, so Matt had gone with his laptop to Phillip's office to work on reports, keeping an eye on the closed circuit camera feed from the hallway outside the conference room so he would know when they had finished the deposition. Phillip had not minded the intrusion, in fact, he had encouraged it when he saw Matt hesitating in his doorway, laptop in hand.

"Sit in here with me, Granger. We can keep an eye on Sarah this way."

"Thanks, Phillip."

He swore under his breath and looked sheepishly at Matt, as if in apology for his language. "It's bad enough she had to go through what she did. Then to have these bulldogs harassing her about it."

"I know."

The attorneys had finished with their questions by late afternoon. Matt had left his computer in Phillip's office so he could walk Sarah out to her car.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come over tonight?"

Sarah had seemed tempted by the offer. But she was weary. "No. Let's stick to our original plan. I don't have much to pack, but I had better go to bed early tonight so I'll be awake for the concert tomorrow."

Matt had stopped her, searching her face. "I love you. Call me if you need to talk. I'll come right over."

"Thanks, my love. I'll be okay."

He had wondered if she really was okay as she had gotten into her car, waving at him as she drove off. Now something about her texts this morning disturbed him. He stepped off the treadmill and made his way to the bathroom. If he hurried, he might have a chance to talk with Sarah before he met with the attorneys.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Lee watched Sarah from outside the firing range. The rifle was low caliber, but she continued to fire without changing her position. She must be pretty accurate with that thing.

When she finally stopped, he knocked on the glass, hoping she would hear him over the other guns that were being fired occasionally nearby. She waved at him, and then turned to gather up the ammunition boxes. Recalling her target from its position twenty-five yards away, she detached it from the pulley system once she could reach it.

She greeted her father as soon as she was out the door. "Hi, Daddy. I didn't expect to see you here today."

Lee reached out to take a few of the boxes from her arms and fell in step beside her as she went to the quartermaster's office. He decided not to tell her that Matt had called him. Stuck in depositions all morning and unable to see Sarah, Matt had been concerned about her. Lee had called Leatherneck, looking for a way to see his daughter without being too obvious. "Well, Leatherneck told me you were going out to the track for a little while this morning. I thought I'd tag along. It's been awhile since I've watched you out there."

"That would be great. I'm having lunch with Jamie, and then helping him out this afternoon, so it won't be for too long."

"That's great. You know I got reservations for Mezza Luna tonight. Your mom pestered me—said you and Matt loved the place."

"Oh, Daddy. It's pretty ritzy. You didn't have to do that."

"Sure I did. I like a good meal, too. Hey, let me see that target."

Leatherneck stepped out of his office when he heard Lee's voice. "Glad to see you made it, Ace. Even you could use a little practice at the track now and then."

"Smart…" Lee cleared his throat and looked guiltily at his daughter as he caught himself. "…mouth. I'm not doing the driving. But I might like to sit in with this sharpshooter here, if she'll let me. Take a look at this target."

Leatherneck whistled low and long. "Very nice, Junior. I think you'll please even Richard Wong with this marksmanship."

"Well, I'm no sharpshooter. Daddy is being too nice. My scatter isn't very tight."

"Still, you have a lot of bull's eyes—or near misses, anyway."

"I got those at the end. I just had to change my stance a little."

Leatherneck and Lee exchanged glances, but did not say anything as Sarah took the rifle back to the armory.

Once she was out of the room, Leatherneck spoke urgently to Lee. "Wong got a look at her results from the past few weeks. He told Jamie that if she continued to perform like this, he was going to push for Sarah to stay in the field."

"He can't do that. She's already signed on as an analyst. She's got an advanced degree."

"So do some of our operatives. Listen, Lee. He's coming down to talk with her. He may be talking with her right now."

"Why the rush? He's being so damn pushy."

"The next class is small. They need more operatives—at least they need more freshmen who aren't likely to wash out."

"But he knows she's been through hell."

"Come on, Lee. That makes her more attractive as an operative. She survived physically and mentally, and partly due to her own efforts. Kirby's been keeping a close eye on her. He recommended I continue with the simulations next week—I'll be giving her more realistic scenarios."

"You talked with Kirby?"

"I had to. It's in her file that I keep in touch with him."

"So, if Kirby is still monitoring her, why is Wong pushing so hard?"

"You know him. He's a fair man, but he has his quotas. And he's not too fond of shrinks."

Lee smiled ruefully. "Who is?"

In the armory office, Sarah found her attention drifting as Richard Wong praised her efforts in field training. Somewhere in his mid to late thirties, the former operative was still fit, his dark hair peppered lightly with gray. Seeing the wedding ring on his finger, she was surprised that she had not remembered that detail about the man from his regular appearances at her father's barbeques. But then she had not talked with many of the male agents on any occasion until she had met Matt. She made an effort to focus on his words.

"Sarah, we never see numbers like this with our freshmen. At least not with the ones who've had no prior experience."

"I appreciate the encouragement, Richard."

"I only give credit where credit is due."

Watching his face, Sarah did not doubt his words. She knew he was not easy on his agents, but he was not unkind to them either.

"We need you in the field. I'm short now, with Smith gone. And we lost Jimenez."

Sarah knew the two men had worked together. Matt was not one to gossip, but she had heard Rene and Grace inferring that Jimenez had been transferred to an office somewhere in the Midwest. A demotion, really. But Matt had insisted that he was near his family now. Either way, the Agency bullpen was short two agents.

"Well, that was the agreement. Six months in the field."

"We'd like you to consider a year or two." Sarah did not know Richard Wong well, but she was certain that it was a command, not a request.

A knot was forming in Sarah's gut. "But they need help in Analysis. I have the master's degree…"

"I know that. And we do value your education and research background. But you have to understand, you have field background now, too."

Don't plead. Don't sound desperate. Maybe if I can talk with Jamie, or even Gil Barclay. "Should I assume Francine and Gil have gone back on our agreement, too?"

Wong frowned. "I wish you wouldn't put it that way. Francine and Jamie know. If we can recruit more people, if our freshman class is particularly skilled, you won't be needed as badly. But you know that even with that, we can't keep everyone in the D.C. office. And we'll do our very best not to have you transferred if you stay in the field. We'd want you in the bullpen. Francine put her foot down on that one—although I have to be honest, it is strange to have so many people from the same family working in a single office. It made more sense to transfer you. The New York office is down an agent and you've lived there."

Oh. So they even talked about transferring me. Maybe I should consider myself lucky I'll be working with Matt—if they don't change their minds. Buck up, Sarah. Maybe there's a way out of this. "Well, I should be grateful to Francine."

"Yes. She's not interfering much, but she is on your side. We all are. We just need you. I hate to sound corny, but your country needs you, Sarah." He regarded her now impassive expression.

"What about Grant Hill? He's already familiar with the Agency. He is trying to be hired."

"We need more people like Hill. And he is only an intern at this point. But I'm keeping you from the track. Maybe we can talk again next week. I'll see you later."

Sarah was not sure what to say. Thank you was out of the question. "Bye, Richard."

When Sarah did not return with her purse, Lee and Leatherneck went looking for her. As Leatherneck had predicted, she had stepped into the armory office to talk with Richard Wong.

Soon the door opened. The men exchanged pleasantries and then Wong excused himself.

Sarah walked into the hallway, her expression neutral. Lee watched her, wondering at the marvel of genetics and the ability of parents to influence their children. His daughter, normally very open and emotional, like Dotty and himself, was now a closed book. She's clamming up, like Amanda does. Wong must have made her angry.

"You two ready to go?" As Lee expected, her voice was clipped.

"Sarah, what did Wong say?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Daddy. Please don't ask." He watched as she forced herself to be cheerful. "Let's go to the track. I need to get back to have lunch with Jamie and do a couple of hours of work for him. I don't want to be late for my hair appointment later. Nikki's very popular. I'll never be able to reschedule before the wedding."

And now she's rambling. She rarely does that. "Sure. Let's get going." Lee glanced over at Leatherneck, willing him not to say anything.

Lee rode along with Sarah on the track, letting Leatherneck direct her while he listened in on his own headset. The pavement was clear, as it was regularly maintained in the winter. Snow lay in piles around the course's edges, and there was evidence of a chemical having been applied for de-icing.

"Okay, Sarah. Let's see a bootlegger's turn."

Sarah punched the accelerator, then applied the brakes and turned as she had been trained.

Lee tensed as the car whipped around. He wondered again why he had volunteered to ride with Sarah. This kind of driving was not easy on his sixty-plus year-old body. And he had no problem understanding why the Agency reserved the older vehicles with heavy duty suspension for these training exercises.

Leatherneck took Sarah through a series of maneuvers on the track, having her swerve at setpoints as if she was directing the vehicle around imaginary vehicles and other obstacles. Despite her skilled manipulation of the car, Lee saw small ways she could improve further. It was a battle to keep his mouth shut, but he managed to sit silently, only offering the occasional compliment. He knew better than to antagonize Sarah with interfering comments when she was upset. Besides, I'm supposed to be here as moral support, not to criticize.

"Nice move there."

"I was a fraction of a second off, but thanks."

She does know. "It's a common problem. If you want, I can show you how to get the timing just right sometime."

"Hey, Stetson. Who's doing the training here?" Leatherneck's teasing tone was easy to pick up over the headphones.

Sarah stopped the car, laughing at the two men. "Let my dad show me. It's probably killing him not to say anything." She got out and went to the passenger side.

"True. Show her your tricks, Scarecrow." At Leatherneck's prompt, Lee exited the car, walking around to the driver's side.

When Sarah seemed enthusiastic about watching her father demonstrate his turns, he executed a few more. Lee found it was easier to be behind the wheel than in the passenger seat, but his daughter needed to keep practicing. They switched seats again and Sarah continued driving.

Soon their time was up. Lee did not hesitate to congratulate his daughter. "You learn quickly, Sarah. You'll be fine during your training."

"I just want to practice a couple more times using those tips you told me."

"Maybe next week—if you can drag your dad down here, I'll let him ride with you again," Leatherneck promised.

"Sure. Now let's get Sarah back to work. You and I can go to Ned's for lunch. I need to settle my nerves with a beer." Lee winked at his daughter and she laughed.

Seeing Jamie at the Agency brought back Sarah's memories of her conversation with Richard Wong. She did not say anything until she was seated at the deli with her brother.

"I suppose you know that Richard Wong talked to me today. Francine had to convince him not to send me to New York. And he doesn't want me to work in Analysis."

"Sarah, all of that about Analysis hasn't been decided for certain. And even if you did stay in the field, it wouldn't have to be long term." He looked down at his plate, then off at a point on the wall. "You're getting married. At some point you may want to start a family…"

"Oh, so I'd have to have a baby to get out of the field?" Sarah had to force herself to keep her voice down.

"I didn't say that."

"But that's what you meant." She looked down at her food. Suddenly the chicken salad wrap that had sounded so appetizing no longer held any appeal. "So, how are the boys?"

Jamie had not missed Sarah's expression. "I'm sorry, Sarah. This might be our last lunch together in a long time, and all I've done is make you feel worse."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not."

"Matt and I want to have kids. But we want to have fun—be carefree—for a while first. We haven't even known each other for a full year."

"Of course. Listen, Sarah. We don't know how things will shake out. Just hang in there. Maybe you'll be part of a really hotshot class."

"I'll be praying for that." Thinking about work was not only taking away Sarah's appetite, it was beginning to make her nauseous. She made a feeble attempt to change the subject. "Now, tell me about the boys."

The siblings kept their conversation light for the rest of the meal. Back at the Agency, Sarah got down to business when she joined Jamie and his mixed team of analysts and agents who were sifting through information on the University of Virginia terrorist recruitment case. She focused her attention on the work and kept an eye on her phone, waiting for Matt to join them.

At three o'clock, she sent him a text and gathered her things reluctantly. She would have to leave before they had a chance to talk about his deposition—or her conversation with Richard Wong.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Sarah heard the rumble of Matt's engine as he pulled to the curb. Having just returned from her hair appointment, she was in a rush to get upstairs and change her clothes. Her stomach was sour and she was feeling a little wobbly from having eaten little all day, the stress of rushing from one thing to the other, and the conversation with Richard Wong. Now, she needed to dress in her semi-formal clothes for dinner and the Christmas Pops Concert.

Struggling with the box in her trunk, she offered Matt a quick hello over her shoulder as he walked up behind her.

"Hey, sweetie. Let me get that." Holding two bouquets of red roses, white chrysanthemums, evergreen branches, and holly—one for Sarah and one for Amanda—he offered her a quick glance as he walked up to the Volvo. His eyes were on the box in her trunk.

As she moved away from her car, Matt handed her the flowers, finally stopping to take a longer look at her after he had retrieved the box. "Wow. You look gorgeous." Balancing the box with one arm, he reached out to finger her hair, which curled softly over her shoulders and down her back. "Your hair is…different. I really like it this way."

Smiling slightly, Sarah blushed. Nikki, her stylist, always fussed over her hair, using special conditioner, curling irons—she seemed to enjoy making it look like Sarah was ready for a photoshoot. For once Sarah was glad. "Thanks. Nikki always gives me a 'do' of some sort when I get it cut. She experimented with a couple of ideas for the wedding, too. That's why I'm running late."

"Whatever she did, it's really nice." He touched her hair again before closing her trunk.

"You look very nice, too. I love that suit."

Matt was dressed in her favorite blue suit—the same one he had worn on special dates. The wool was a fine weave, and it was tailored perfectly. Sarah had complimented him on it each time he wore it, but she always kept her comments low key, knowing that he did not enjoy flattery. Someday I'm going to tell him how hot he looks in it. She smiled to herself.

Relieved that she did not have to hoist the box again, Sarah carefully shifted the flowers to one hand and flipped her purse, which had fallen down her arm, back onto her shoulder. It was heavier now that she had qualified for her concealed weapon permit. Lee had insisted she bring one of his Glocks with her until she became a full agent and would be able to carry her Agency-issued Glock full-time. It did not help that he had slipped that extra magazine in her purse last night.

"A good agent always has at least one extra mag."

"Yes, Chief."

Sarah had not missed the suppressed grin on her father's face. "A few months ago I would have given you grief for being sassy with me. Now I kind of like it when you call me that. You've come a long way, Pumpkin."

"I guess I'll always be Pumpkin."

"You know it." He ran his hand over her hair before resting his hand on her back and walking her out of his den. "I almost wish I could have been the section chief when you started." He sighed. "But that would have caused you no end of trouble with the other agents and your superiors."

"And I would have been the one in the van on every op. Face it, Daddy, you've even told me to 'stay in the car.'"

"That was only while I was assessing the situation."

"At track meets, school events—"

"—Crowded places where some creep may have seen the name Stetson on a list." Lee stopped her and raised his eyebrows as he looked in her face.

Sarah had been forced to acknowledge his point. He had been watching out for her, leery of any old enemies that might want to threaten his daughter to get to him.

"Earth to Sarah." Forcing herself back to the present, Sarah realized that Matt was standing in front of her, the box in his arms, an expectant look on his face.

"Oh, sorry. I know. I should be hurrying."

"So, where do you want the box? Upstairs or in my car? It looks like shampoo. A lot of shampoo."

Laughing, Sarah finally realized that she had missed Matt's original question. "Um, that's a wedding present for us. I guess it should just go to your apartment."

"Shampoo? A wedding present?" Wearing a bemused expression, Matt turned toward his car.

Catching up with him, Sarah sought to explain. "Nikki has been cutting my hair since high school—she gave it to us. It's shampoo, but there's also conditioner in there."

"Um, I don't need fancy shampoo. And I've never used conditioner." Resting the box on the bumper, Matt reached in his pocket for his car door opener.

"It's not for you. It's for me. But it's for you, too."

With an effort, Matt stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "I'm confused."

With her free hand, Sarah reached into the unsealed box before Matt could get the trunk unlocked. Popping open one of the bottles with her thumb, she held it up to her fiancé's nose and commanded, "Smell."

After sniffing at the bottle, realization dawned on Matt's face. A silly grin spread across his features. "What? Did you tell her?"

Sarah did not look up at Matt as she snapped the cap closed and slipped the bottle back into the box. "Um, yes. I was going to buy a bottle, and she told me they were taking it off the market. Then, when I was disappointed, Nikki wanted to know why. After I told her that you really like the fragrance, she went in the back and brought out the rest of their inventory and called it a gift. They were going to put it on clearance."

"I guess I should write the thank you note for this." Matt chuckled. "I owe Nikki big time."

"I'm pretty sure Nikki would love to have you deliver your note in person. I only go in there once every few months, so she didn't know about us. When I showed her your photo on my phone, she nearly passed out."

"Oh, please." Rolling his eyes this time, Matt closed the trunk lid, locked the car, and pocketed the opener. He took one of the bouquets and placed his hand on Sarah's back as they went back up the driveway.

Sarah leaned conspiratorially towards Matt. "She said you were hot. I won't say what she said about you liking the scent of my hair, but let's just say I blushed bright red."

"I don't think I want to know." Matt looked uncomfortable. "You talked about us with her?"

"Oh no. In fact, I'd feel badly about telling her our little secret, but since I've got a couple of years' worth of bottles in that box, I'm kind of glad I did." Sarah could see Matt was obviously relieved. "Don't worry, Matt. I'm not one of those silly girls who brag about what they do with their boyfriends."

"I didn't really think so." As they walked into the apartment, Matt glanced over at the wall clock. His hello kiss was just a quick one. "I hate to rush you Sarah, but your parents will be waiting for us soon."

She examined the flowers. "Two bouquets for me?" She grinned mischievously. "Thank you. They are just beautiful."

"Yep, two bouquets. Because you're that special. And it's my pleasure." He grinned back at her and reached for the bouquet in her hand. "I'll take those. I can put yours in water while you get dressed." He laid Amanda's bouquet on the table.

"Thank you for the beautiful flowers—they are very nice. You didn't have to do that." She reached up to kiss his cheek.

"Yes, I did. I haven't given you flowers in a while and it's a special occasion. Something beautiful for my beautiful fiancée."

"And you are very sweet. I'll be ready in just a few minutes." She ducked into the bathroom, leaving the door open. After wiping off her old makeup, she reached in the drawer, rifling around for her eye shadow. She called out to Matt. "How did your deposition go today?"

He came to the doorway. "It was okay. They tried to get me to say something incriminating about my attitude towards Brad. Thankfully all I did that day he really flirted with you was act like an angry rooster." Matt avoided bringing up the tiff he and Sarah had had after that encounter. He had purposefully come out of his room with his shirt off, making sure that Brad knew he was in Matt's territory, messing with "his woman." And he had let Sarah know he was jealous by criticizing the way she had handled Brad's flirtations. He had felt foolish about it until he found out that Brad was a serious threat. "Then the day he took you, he got me with the second flashbang before I could fire off any rounds at him. His attorney was quiet then."

Sarah looked at Matt's face in the mirror, but did not say anything. She did not like to admit how much anger she still had towards Brad Smith. She tried to control the shaking in her hand as she applied powder to her cheeks.

Matt did not miss the look in Sarah's eyes. He had seen it before when they had discussed Brad Smith with Dr. Kirby, the Agency psychiatrist, then in a roundabout way with their pastor. Even though they could not discuss specifics about the case or even let their pastor know they were in intelligence work, it had frustrated Matt that they could not have normal pre-marital counseling sessions when they had first gone to Pastor Carlson. "I wouldn't have minded getting a few rounds in the jerk, but now that I'm talking with the attorneys, I guess I'm glad I didn't do anything to him."

"Like choke him and cause an accident?" Sarah put the makeup back in the drawer, then shut it more forcefully than she intended.

Matt stepped inside the bathroom and put his hand on her shoulder. "You did a great job defending yourself. No one questions that. The attorneys just gave you a hard time so they could try to get the judge to cut the slimeball some slack. Besides, he had hurt you." Matt closed his eyes, his mouth a flat line.

"I'm not absolutely sure it was Brad who hit me."

"It's the most likely scenario. And it wasn't just the hitting. It was the flashbangs. Two of them—one is bad enough." He cleared his throat and looked at her in the mirror, his eyes intently upon her. "I heard that Wong came looking for you today. He's pretty determined to keep you in the field for a while."

"Yes."

"I won't ruin our evening by making a big deal out of it, but I think you should know I gave him a piece of my mind."

"Oh."

"And I'm determined not to worry about it. Jamie is going to keep track of the work you do with him and talk to Gil Barclay at some point."

"Make his case?"

"Yeah, I guess. My point is that we should not worry about it." Matt put his arms around Sarah from behind and kissed her hair. "Let's try to think about something besides work tonight. It will be fun to eat with your parents at Mezza Luna."

She reached up to rest her hands on his arms. "Yes, it will. But not if I'm dressed like this." Her tone was more lighthearted now.

Matt released her and stepped backward out of the little room. "I'm getting out of your way."

"I'll be out in a few." Sarah hurried into her bedroom and shut the door, while Matt went back to the kitchen and finished placing her flowers in water.

A few minutes later a low whistle escaped his lips as he walked into the living room with the vase. He stared openly at Sarah before setting the flowers on the coffee table. "You look stunning."

Dressed in simple black high heels, Sarah had chosen a dark blue silk dress with three-quarter length sleeves. The cut of the dress hugged her body, the skirt ending just above her knee. Other than a pattern of sequins on the bodice, there were no adornments on the dress, and she wore a simple necklace, emphasizing the dress's square neckline. Her hair still hung in soft waves over her shoulders, and she had tucked it behind her ear on one side to reveal one of the diamond and sapphire earrings Matt had given her last September. She blushed at Matt's compliment. "I hope you don't mind if we kind of match. I really liked this dress—Mom picked it out when we were shopping for bridesmaids' dresses and said to consider it an early Christmas present."

Finally coming to her side, Matt ran his hand down her arm before reaching up to caress her face. His eyes were dark, but he was trying to keep his voice light. "I don't mind matching. Makes it seem more like we belong together." He leaned toward her, giving her a lingering kiss before finally pulling away. He took a deep breath. "Where is your coat?"

Sarah produced the coat from her closet and soon they were making their way over to the house to join Lee and Amanda.