Jimmy the desk clerk pocketed the bills Lee had just passed him and offered them the board, littered with enough keys to further put the lie to his claim that the King Edward hotel were full up for the evening.

"1204," said Lee, reaching past her to pluck the key to Jean-Claude's room off the board. "My lucky number. It's the old lady's birthday." He winked at the desk clerk whose expression barely shifted.

Jimmy turned his head to look at the calendar hanging on his bulletin board which still read 'December 1983' with a photo of a girl wearing mistletoe and holly and not a lot else. Jimmy shifted the toothpick from one side to the other and looked back at Amanda. "Well, happy belated birthday," he drawled.

"Oh, my birthday's not until July," she remarked brightly.

She felt Lee's body beginning to shake with laughter and Jimmy stared at her, glanced down at the register and then back up at her. "Whatever you say, Mrs. ... Smythe."

Lee turned her around before she could dig herself any deeper and guided her towards the elevator. He waited until they were safely inside and underway before giving way to a guffaw of laughter.

"Oh my gosh," groaned Amanda, still blushing. "I can't believe I said that! Do you know what that man must think?"

"Do you really care what he thinks?" Lee grinned. "I bet you're the prettiest one-nighter he's seen in months."

Amanda sighed. "I'd complain about you calling it that, but then again, you were supposed to be a one-night stand and look where that got us?"

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. "Room 1204 in the King Edward hotel," replied Lee. "It'll be like a second honeymoon."

Amanda snorted. "We'd have to have a first honeymoon first, Sweetheart."

Lee stopped outside Room 1204 and inserted the key. "What about our weekend at Crump's cabin? I'm hurt you could forget such a magical weekend."

"I suppose that might count a little," she conceded.

"I should think so," he countered. "Remember when we were in front of the fire and I…" he leaned in and finished the sentence in a whisper in her ear.

Amanda blushed harder than she had in the elevator. "Yes, I remember that quite well," she admitted. Lee pushed the door open and they surveyed the general squalor that was life in a long-term stay room King Edward hotel. "But we certainly won't be doing that here," she went on, nose wrinkling. "I don't think I want any part of my body to touch anything in here."

Lee squared his shoulders and stepped in. "Welcome to the glamorous life of a spy, Amanda."

"Is this how you live when you're away on spy business?" she asked, picking up a pencil so that she could move things around on the desk without touching anything.

"It can be," Lee replied. "But Jean-Claude's beat was more often what we call 'commercial intelligence'." Off Amanda's raised eyebrow, he went on. "Stealing trade secrets, that kind of thing. That requires a certain amount of looking the part of a guy who's willing to cut a deal with a dissatisfied employee. Odds are, back in France, he has a lovely little apartment in Paris."

"So what exactly are we looking for?" she asked. "Won't the police have taken away any evidence?"

"Not if they don't know what they're looking for," said Lee. "They probably didn't look any further than his cover."

"So, do you think his cover had something to do with why he was targeted?"

"It could have been," he answered. "Either that or his dating history."

"You think it could have been an angry husband or something?"

"We don't know anything, except that all the agents who have died are young, respected in their jobs, and attractive," said Lee. "I mean I suppose it's possible there's some housewife with spy fantasies working her way through the Washington spy corps and her husband just found out about it."

Amanda stuck her tongue out at him and headed into the bathroom. "Oh yes? Anything you need to tell me?" Her voice was slightly muffled now. "Since I'm in a forgiving mood and all."

"Nothing at all, Honey, nothing at all," he chuckled.

"Some of his things are still here," he heard her say. "He was reading 'A Tale of Two Cit-oof!" There was the unmistakeable sound of a body colliding with a hard surface.

"Amanda?", he called out, heading towards her. "What's wrong?"

The bathroom door slammed shut, but he could hear her struggling.

"Lee! Help!"

"Amanda!" He pulled out his gun and forced the door open. Amanda was on the floor, surrounded by the detritus of the bookshelf.

"He went out the window," she croaked, unnecessarily.

Lee hurtled to look out, but whoever had attacked her was gone. He crouched down and ran his hands over her, checking for injuries.

"I'm fine," she sighed.

"But now you're a target too," answered Lee, his face etched with a mix of anger and worry.

Amanda took his hand and squeezed it tight. "What do we do now?"

"We find him before he finds us," said Lee, helping her to her feet. "Now let's finish checking this place out."