An hour later, Scarecrow and Mrs. King sat in Billy's office outlining their plan. "So, you see, Billy, they won't even know that I'm meeting all of them at once. Amanda does—" he paused. "Amanda—"he trailed off.

"We know Scarecrow, Amanda shimmy-shakes her way to your contacts, they slip her the USB's with the dollars they will want to slip into her garters, and nobody's the wiser," Francine chuckled.

"Can it, Francine!" Lee bit out. "There will be no garters!"

"No garters, I promise, Lee!" Amanda exclaimed, patting his shoulder. 'I'm saving them for us,' "But I do need a costume, and Ms. Collins will be very suspicious if I show up without a girlfriend to look out for me, so if you wouldn't mind, Francine."

"Wait, if I'm going, why don't I just do my Happy Hooker and pick their pockets," Francine demanded. "Then Amanda won't miss the scouts or something."

"Scouts are on Friday, Francine. Ms. Collins would have the cops shut the club down if she found even a happy hooker in her club." Amanda answered with a smirk.

"Besides none of these men would go within ten miles of touching a working girl of any type. They're all petrified of picking something up. They may assume all Americans are walking STD's," Lee answered.

"Hmm. Strictly look and nothing else," Francine sighed. "Well, in this business it takes all kinds."

"It does," Billy interjected. "Amanda, I commend you on the simplicity and quick thinking that solved a logistical nightmare. If we can break or even dent the Russian supply lines into the Ukraine, the civilians we could save may number into the hundreds of thousands. You are well on your way to another Presidential Commendation."

"We certainly have enough wall space to fill with them," Lee grinned.

Heat flooded Amanda's cheeks and neck as she stared at her feet. "That's very kind of both of you to say, but I haven't really done anything. I just know someone from college that would do me a favor. If Lee hadn't mentioned, they like burlesque I'm sure we would have found another solution. I just want to help and watch Lee's back."

Lee threw his head back and laughed. "You've saved my bacon this time and many others and you know it, Mrs. King. Don't go getting shy on me now, we both know you're not."

"Modesty isn't a vice, Scarecrow," Billy admonished with a grin. "I realize it's something you've never been gifted with, but I find it one of the more pleasant virtues."

Francine rolled her eyes. "I prefer punctuality, which we will need tonight for this to work. Come on, Amanda, we've got to get you down to wardrobe de-suburbanize you, and de-mother you, otherwise you'll fool nobody. This will take a while."

Amanda saw Lee ready to make a crack and giggled. "Oh yes, Francine, think of what might happen if there was any hint of PTA on me."

"Exactly!" Francine agreed.

"But, Francine, you do realize that to be in the PTA you need to either the guardian or parent of a child?" Amanda asked, her eyes and voice dripping with innocence.

"Amanda, I am not a domestic person, but an idiot could figure that out," Francine snapped.

"Okay, you're right!" Amanda agreed, raising her hands to placate her friend. "But really, how do you think PTA members got their children, through mail order? Come on, let's get down to wardrobe. See you later, Lee, Mr. Melrose!" she called out, dragging Francine with her.

Billy and Lee laughed as Francine exploded. "I wonder if Francine will ever admit just how much she likes Amanda," Lee mused.

"Not out loud any time soon," Billy shrugged. "Are you sure you won't blow your stack tonight?"

Lee put a foot on the desk and shrugged. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Look, I told you that whatever relationship you and Amanda have, I'll back you both to the end. I need to know you won't start the mother of all brawls while Amanda is getting passed intel," Billy insisted.

"I am a professional," Lee growled.

"You are," Billy agreed. "But the thing with Briol nearly cracked you."

Lee abandoned any pretense took his leg off the desk and sat ramrod straight. His eyes narrowed. "I never cracked, and I did what I had to do. I'd do it again in a damned heartbeat. This is Amanda's plan and I trust her, end of story."

"Get to it then," Billy dismissed. As the younger man went to open the door he called out. "Hey, Scarecrow, do you think they'll choose leather, lace, or both?" Laughing hard when the only response was a slammed door.

Down in wardrobe, Francine rifled through racks of clothes. "Well, what do you want, Amanda? I don't have all day!"

Amanda sat on a stool swinging one leg and scrolling through the playlist on her phone. "Vintage 40's pinup look, preferably Air Force," she rattled off absently as she searched.

"Very specific, Amanda," Francine answered. "We can do that, we have your measurements, daily wear or Dress?"

"Dress."

"Hat, or no?"

"Hat."

"What color stockings?"

"Natural with seams."

"Silk or nylon?"

"I am not asking the Agency to pay for silk stockings, Francine," Amanda snorted. "I don't have a clothing budget."

"I don't have one either after it became your raise," Francine retorted.

"Mon Dieu. Mon Dieu," Amanda sighed.

"Funny!"

"Thank you."

"Wig or not?"

"I'm worried that someone will record everything and post it on YouTube. What do you think?"

"We'll be blocking cell signals while you're on stage, SOP. We don't want these guys getting made, and I couldn't let you get kicked out of the den mother's club."

"Mrs. Anderson won a bikini contest in Miami last year after her third baby. She put it all up on Facebook. I'm not worried. Ha! Found my song, I should call Ms. Collins so the band has time to do it and come up with a lighting plan."

"Skirt or leotard?"

"Bustier and dance shorts."

"Heel height?"

"Regulation. My foot is going to hate me for this."

That made Francine pause. Coming back to Amanda she stood with her arms crossed. "Hey, I will deny it to the grave if this gets out, but if you could give me a few tricks to fake it I might be able to do the hard part."

"Thanks, Francine, but it wouldn't work. This is Ms. Collins major source of income and it can't be faked. I do appreciate it though," Amanda smiled.

Francine went red with indignation. "I am a fabulous dancer I will have you know!"

"You are!" Amanda emphatically agreed. "You could take on my mother at ballroom dancing. But you'd be lost solo. It's an entirely different thing. Not only do you have to have a sense of rhythm and timing, but you have no lead, no partner, you're on a stage, you hit your mark in time with the music and the lighting and be sexy doing it! Trust me, it's no picnic. I'd rather be mingling at an embassy party at this point in my life."

"Amanda, I've heard you play the piano and sing at Nedlinger's, and I've seen you dance. You have real talent. How on earth did you give it all up for an American Lit major and Joe King?"

Amanda's head shot up. "That's sudden."

"I think it's been plaguing my subconscious," Francine shrugged.

"I didn't really plan to give it up you know. I hadn't even met Joe then. Daddy and I had the accident before my second semester started. The bones in my foot healed, but I could never perform professionally, so I switched. I kept my drama as a minor though, you know that. I just, I just didn't want to do it without daddy there anymore. Besides, I wouldn't give my boys up for all the money and fame in the world," Amanda answered. "How long will it take to get the costume?"

"Three hours, I'll bring it to Q. Should we set your hair in pin curls?"

"Ms. Collins will let us use a dressing room; we shouldn't have to worry."

"I hate to say it, but this is a good plan."