Not Coming Clean

Lee returned downstairs before Oliver. He found Francine looking very much at home in the gorgeous formal dining room. Even in jeans and a simple sweater, she managed to match the room's elegance. She looked up from her laptop as he sat down in the chair next to her, at the head of the table.

He'd shaved and found an elastic band to tie his hair back. For a second, Francine saw remnants of the much younger man she'd first met when she joined The Agency. He'd worn his hair fashionably long back then, not quite as long as it was now, with stylish sideburns. He'd very much been That Guy. The one all the other men wanted to be, and all the women wanted to be with. The women, at least, generally got what they thought they wanted. Herself included, but it took a while for her to realize what she wanted was a friend. Turns out a friend was something he'd also not known he wanted. They'd played the game, danced the danced, had their run through the office gossip mill, but somehow the Playboy and the Ice Princess discovered that they were as compatible outside of bedroom as they were incompatible in it.

They'd been through a lot since 1978. Now that he was sitting here, in the flesh, looking a little lost and a lot exhausted, she finally allowed herself to admit how badly she'd missed him. Lee noticed her unguarded expression.

"Thanks. I missed you, too."

"Thanks for...?"

"You never completely accepted it. That I was dead."

"I mean, I certainly hoped..." And had suspicions that raised a legion of other questions. She realized this might not be the time for that part of the conversation. "The identification was circumstantial, but then you never checked in."

"My ring?" She'd been hoping he'd tell her why he hadn't made contact until now, but maybe that was a conversation he needed to have with Amanda before anyone else. She could respect that.

"Your ring and nothing else. And nothing to identify Oliv -Dr. Wells."

"I suppose losing the ring was lucky, but I was pretty busted up about it when I realized it was missing."

"So how exactly did it end up in the rubble?" She understood the "lucky" part. Whatever he'd been up to between then and now, he'd been able to do off radar. Being declared dead did have its advantages in this business. Lee had been used in that capacity so many times that- She suddenly wondered if anyone else within The Agency had kept that possibility open.

"I was trying to -Oliver and I- we were trying to pull an older couple... They'd been pinned by a bunch of debris we were trying to get past. To find an exit. The...the fire was everywhere. My hands were sweaty."

He paused for a few seconds. He'd never relived this part out loud. It was difficult. "A piece of ceiling came down, took the woman out. The man must have managed to pull my ring off when... He didn't make it out either. All these years, that's the first time I've ever understood the death grip. It's a real thing."

Francine reached across the table, covering his hand with hers. "I'm sorry. You had to try, though. That matters."

They were silent for a moment, letting the emotion pass.

"I didn't figure out what happened to the ring until I found out I was listed as dead rather than missing." He took her hand between both of his and gave it a little squeeze before releasing it, grateful for its small, protective presence.

He'd always appreciated Francine's ability to recognize when he just needed a moment to vent and get himself back together without the need to try to draw him out on the subject. To most people, she seemed very cold in that respect, but like Lee, she had been raised for survival. Love didn't always look like love to those who didn't understand.

"But you stayed away until now."

"Yes."

So, he was deliberately avoiding that part of the conversation. She knew better than to press for details. He'd share them when he was ready. The important thing was that he was back, and she was the one he'd trusted to bring him in. Now it was her turn to trust his timing, and whatever plan he had in mind.

"What are you working on?" He took the initiative to change the subject.

Francine turned the screen to face him. Their eyes met and they both laughed far harder than the information on the screen warranted. "I figured if Amanda isn't back by the time your nasty old rags are ready for the dryer, I could wow her with my domestic skills. Better to Google it than embarrass myself by shrinking everything on the wrong setting."

"Don't you think she's had enough surprises for one day?" He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt good laughing. He'd come back from the supposed dead several times, but Francine voluntarily doing laundry, especially someone else's laundry, just might be unprecedented. She was the full-service laundromat and dry cleaner type. "Where'd she go anyway?"

"Nope. Not telling you. You should be able to figure it out. A bunch of people stop by unexpectedly. What does your wife do?"

Francine has been teasing, but she felt his mood darken again with the word "wife". "Hey, give it time. It's only been what? Two hours?"

"Eighteen months, 7 days, and let's see, about 20 hours. But who's counting?"

"For YOU. She only found out last night. All things considered; she's handled everything remarkably well. And if you tell her I said that, you'll be dead for real."

"And why DID she find out?" Apparently, he wasn't ready to lighten the mood just yet.

"Didn't you want her to know?"

"Not until next week. I didn't want to involve her, not on top of-"

"Finding out you're alive?"

"Yeah." Francine's tone made him wonder if he'd been wrong to not want Amanda involved in this part. "She's normally not so ...professional... about it. You've seen us go through it. Why did you involve her?"

"Time. And coincidence. I just got the card, let's see, about 40 hours ago."

"What? I sent it almost two weeks ago!"

"To my old address. I was transferred to the New York office last year, but that's a story for later. Amanda moved up here last summer with one of her sons when he accepted a position at the University. I didn't have time to make plans, and figured she knew the area. And she wanted to be involved once I told her why I was here. And you know damn well you'd have insisted on being involved if the positions were reversed."

She was right, of course. He wasn't sure why it still bothered him. "You couldn't have come up with something else?"

"Not under the circumstances."

"And what circumstances would that be? Did she put a gun to your head?"

"Not to my head, but there was a gun involved. Please, just let it go for now. It'll make a great story later. A story where you end up with clean clothes rather than stinking up my car for hours." He accepted. Which was fair, since he wasn't telling everything yet either. She could almost hear his mind shift gears as his mood lightened.

"So, this is Jamie's place?" That was one big mystery solved. He'd known Jamie was planning to change jobs, but he didn't recall Buffalo being one of the options he'd been looking into. He had his mother's sensibilities, so Lee wouldn't have expected him to give in so completely to his wife's taste in decor. Maybe it was a fair trade for uprooting her life for his career. Looking around now, he recognized a few of his daughter-in-law's decorative pieces. The place suddenly felt a little more comfortable. He also figured that Jamie and the family were on vacation. They usually took one this time of year. That explained the things missing from the bathroom. His universe was beginning to make sense again.

"It would seem that there's no handsome, super-rich new husband. Not that she's mentioned anyway." She'd noticed his relief when she'd mentioned Amanda's son and couldn't resist teasing a little. "I think you might have a chance with the Widow Stetson.

Oliver joined them just in time to hear the tail end of the conversation and Lee's sly "And speaking of chances..." giving Francine a wink and slight glance in his direction.

Was it his hopeful imagination, or did the goddess blush?

She wondered if Lee had picked up on that, and if so, from which of them, or if he was just messing with her. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to get back to the original question. "She went to get groceries. She'll be back soon."

The goddess had indeed blushed. The goddess then decided it would be a very good time to go check on the laundry.

That's when the phone call came. Thinking it might be Amanda, Lee followed Francine toward the kitchen, looking for the phone. It went to the answering machine.

"Hi Mandy. It's Andy. If you're free tonight, what say we grab some dinner? Give me a call when you can. Miss you bunches!" Followed by an exaggerated air kiss.

Lee's eyes met Francine's as the bottom threatened to drop out of his world.

Again.

Sensing that Lee needed some time alone, Francine suggested he go lie down in the guest room she'd slept in. He accepted the offer gratefully, especially knowing how much Francine despised having her personal space invaded, even temporary personal space. In his wife's home. Where it was beginning to look like there was no longer a place for him.

He finally admitted to himself that this, the fear that she'd moved on, was the real reason he hadn't wanted to see Amanda until after the Oldfield business was taken care of. Whoever this Andy guy was, he was one damn lucky sonofabitch.

At least Scarecrow still seemed to have his Mrs. King.