AN: Scarecrow and Mrs. King is a beloved remnant of my childhood. Now, I wonder 'What if they had 2020's technology?" I want to answer that question, but the only other changes I've made are, the boys are now twins and a bit younger. Also, Jamie had a brain tumor as a baby. That's it, everything else is the same, accept the fashion of course. 80's hair and makeup was bad.


Amanda King, soon-to-be Stetson, held an extra spring in her step as she entered IFF. "Good morning, Mrs. Marsten, isn't an absolutely exquisite day?" she trilled, as she swept by the older woman's desk. "Don't worry, I know it today!" Amanda chuckled. "The password is punch-drunk." 'Exactly what I feel punch-drunk with love,' she thought as her cheeks heated.

Initially, the venerable grandame of IFF wondered if the housewife Scarecrow fatefully and quite unintentionally brought into the world of international intrigue and espionage could hold up with his antics when she couldn't seem to remember the password of the day. However, it wasn't long before this modest, unassuming, and far too humble (in Marsten's opinion) housewife had half the intelligence community in the city in awe, and Scarecrow had gone from being the best although most self-destructive American Intelligence Operative into a force heading into the realms of only the most legendary of Operatives, ones who could not only stop the worst of war but also forge peace.

"Indeed, it is, Mrs. King," the elder woman acknowledged. The young woman shimmered and vibrated with joy, and she couldn't be happier for it. 'She and Scarecrow could light up Las Vegas, Paris, and Dubai,' she mused. "Have a wonderful day, dear."

"You too, Mrs. Marsten!" Amanda returned as she scurried to Q-Bureau.

"I don't know how I can pull this off, Billy," Lee sighed, running a hand through his hair. 'Great, the first full day of my engagement and work goes to h-e-double hockey sticks!' he thought sourly. "I'm good, but nobody can be in three places at once at the same time!"

"Really, Scarecrow, tell me something I didn't know," Billy chuckled. Sobering, he continued. "We need this information, Lee. It could blow out the Russians entire network of supply lines into the Ukraine."

"I know!" Lee exclaimed. "If we could work up something to at least stem the flow of their munitions it would help. But all three of these contacts will only deal with me, and there's no way I can drive to three separate locations all over the city and be at each of them at 11:30pm."

The door opened cutting off Billy's response. "Good morning, my— Mr. Melrose, Lee," Amanda quickly amended. Seeing their somber expressions, she didn't bother taking off her coat. Instead, she went to Lee's side. "What's wrong?" she asked, putting her hand on his shoulder.

It took every ounce of Lee's control not to kiss the soft hand gently soothing him. "Three of my most important eastern European contacts want to make major drops at three different locations all at 11:30pm," Lee answered. "They'll only deal with me."

"That is a pickle," Amanda affirmed. "These contacts don't know each other, do they?"

Lee shrugged. "They might have seen each other at the odd Embassy party, but none of them know that they're connected to me."

Amanda nodded. "Do they have anything else in common?"

Lee unconsciously fiddled with his collar. "They like to watch ladies sing and dance," he stuttered.

"You mean they like strip clubs," Billy droned, enjoying watching his dear friend squirm in front of Amanda.

"No!" Lee bit out. "They like burlesque," he huffed.

"Oh, big difference," Billy smirked.

"Actually, sir, there is a difference, and quite an important one," Amanda cut in. "I played Gypsy in a production before college, and I assure you, nobody saw anything I wasn't willing to show!"

Lee's mouth went completely dry as shocks shot up his spine with the intensity of a cattle prod, at his beloved fiancée's words. Although he did know her as the quintessential dance and theater kid as well as cheerleading all through school, she'd never mentioned playing Gypsy Rose Lee. Just as biology threatened to derail every ounce of conscious thought and years of training, Amanda's voice cut through the haze of desire to kiss her senseless.

"That gives me an idea!" she chirped in excitement.

"What idea is that, Amanda?" Billy encouraged still diverted by watching Lee's reactions.

"Well," Amanda paused, biting her lower lip. "I suppose it depends on where the locations of the meets are. Or maybe not. Lee, just how much do they like burlesque?"

"Enough," he coughed. Taking out his cell phone he brought up a map with each location marked.

Amanda barely looked at it. "Yep, we can make this work," she affirmed.

"Make what work, Amanda?" Lee asked.

"There's a burlesque club that is within ten miles of each location. That's how we do this. It's not a very expensive one, it's basically, where girls who aren't talented enough for the elite clubs or getting older go to get extra income," Amanda stated.

"How do you know that?" Billy asked, beating Lee to it.

"Oh, lots of girls with theater majors would dance there for extra cash to pay their credit card debt. I'd go to look out for them backstage. I might have danced myself if I hadn't hurt my foot in the accident and stopped dancing in stage performances. I know the owner a little," she muttered at the end.

The thought of his Amanda doing burlesque sent equal amounts of desire and jealousy fueled rage through Lee's veins. He quickly swallowed his now lukewarm coffee and tried to breathe normally. "What do you mean 'that's how we do this,' Amanda?" he asked, his jaw tensing with wariness.

Amanda took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. "Lee, it's simple. You get them to the club, I call Ms. Collins and tell her I need a quick influx of money for Phillip's dentist, it's not entirely untrue, and I will perform one song and they'll pass me what they have, and I pass it to you. That way you have backup, and we get what we need."

"Good thinking, Amanda," Billy praised.

"The hell you'll dance Amanda!" Lee roared.

"And sing," Amanda quipped back.

Clenching his fists, he growled. "No! No dancing, no, singing, and no performing of any kind!"

"Scarecrow!" Billy barked.

"Sir!" Amanda interjected. "It's still very early, and I left a blueberry muffin from the batch I made last night on your desk. Why don't you go enjoy it, and Lee and I will finalize the details," her bright eyes assuring the older man she would convince her stubborn partner.

"No, we won't be finalizing anything because there is no plan. We are not doing this, Amanda. You are not doing this!" Lee snapped.

"Give me fifteen minutes, sir," Amanda whispered.

"I leave him in your capable hands," Billy agreed giving her a wink. As he left the pair's office he chuckled. 'You don't have a chance Scarecrow, Mrs. King wears the pants now!'