A CHANGE IN THE SEASON

Lee Stetson stared down into his Old Fashioned glass and gently swirled the ice around the quarter-inch of amber Scotch at the bottom. Alone in his apartment, he'd been nursing the shot for an hour while he tried to muster the enthusiasm to get off the couch and fix something for dinner. Trouble was, he knew there wasn't much waiting for him in the fridge – half a leftover pizza, a jar of olives and a carton of long-expired milk. The thought made his stomach churn slightly, and he felt the beginnings of a headache coming on.

It had been a long day, he was in a lousy mood and the sound of his neighbors banging around in the hallway outside his apartment wasn't helping. This was supposed to be a quiet building! He made a mental note to have a word with the management. He drained his glass and glanced toward the mini bar, contemplating a refill.

No.

He'd been conscious of his alcohol intake lately … well, ever since that moment, several months ago, when he'd struck Amanda King hard across the cheek while "playing" a drunken burn out as part of an undercover operation. Lee flinched as an image of that scene replayed in his mind. He'd had several drinks at Nedlingers – enough to make his cover look convincing – but he'd felt completely in control. Lee Stetson was a man who could handle his liquor, after all. So how had it happened? What crazy impulse prompted him to raise a hand to his partner, even in the service of his mission? The instant his palm had connected with her beautiful face, much harder than he'd intended, he understood what a terrible mistake he'd made. The shock on Amanda's face … the disbelief in her wide, lovely eyes … the way she shrugged off his apologetic hand on her arm …

Lee was haunted by these things, and knew he always would be. Though Amanda had quickly forgiven him once she understood it was "all part of the job," he had vowed that he would never give her cause to look at him that way again.

And yet …

Only two hours ago he'd snarled at her needlessly, seen the flicker of hurt in her eyes before he stomped off to the Q Bureau. She hadn't followed him there, and he was left to stew in remorse for the rest of the afternoon. It was partially her fault, he told himself. She knew how this time of year affected his mood. Starting the week before Thanksgiving, right through to New Year's Eve, people knew to avoid Lee Stetson. The man hated the holidays. He gritted his teeth as lights and garland started appearing in store windows, scowled when carols started issuing from the office intercom and glared at anyone foolhardy enough to offer him season's greetings.

Amanda had known him more than two years. In truth, she knew him better than anybody in the world. If anyone understood why this season of family and friendship left him cold, it was Mrs. King. So when she had playfully referred to him today as "Scrooge McGrinch," he'd snapped.

"Maybe I just prefer to maintain a little dignity and professionalism instead of flitting around like a Christmas clown in a tacky sweater," he'd barked with a pointed look at the large, red-nosed reindeer on the front of her cardigan.

It was a stupid and uncalled for insult that earned him a dirty look even from Francine. Lee knew that everyone in the bullpen found Amanda's bubbly personality, her warmth and generosity, a breath of fresh air blowing through the sterile, often grim atmosphere of the Agency. More than anyone else, Lee had come to lov- appreciate the way her smile brightened a room, her little kindnesses, even her occasional rambles. She surprised and delighted him every day … except for this 30-day window of time when he just wanted to be left alone to wallow in his discontent.

More irritating thuds and bumps from the corridor, along with a need to distract himself from his guilty conscience, finally propelled Lee off the couch. He set his empty glass in the sink and started half-heartedly opening cupboard doors, seeking something edible. Over the past year, Amanda had gotten into the habit of bringing in leftovers from her family's meals, fretting that he didn't eat properly. But it had been a couple of weeks since he'd last seen a Tupperware container of her incredible lasagna or homemade chicken soup. Not since Joe King had returned from Estoccia.

Amanda's ex-husband's return left Lee feeling unsettled. Just when his relationship with Mrs. King seemed to be … warming … along comes MR. King. Lee was glad, for Amanda and the boys' sake, that he'd been able to clear Joe's name and reunite the family. But it rankled him that Amanda seemed so accepting, so forgiving, so … Amanda toward her former spouse. This was the guy who left her to raise two small boys! Who broke her heart! Yet she treated him like a long-lost friend – perhaps more than a friend.

True, Amanda hadn't given any indication that she and Joe were headed toward a reconciliation, and she and Lee had continued to work together comfortably since his return. There were still moments – the recent fast food franchise case sprang to mine – that Lee felt that familiar frisson of heat between them. They'd even been to dinner, and it had been great.

Still …

Even as he and Amanda worked side by side every day, Lee felt Joe's presence between them. He was keenly aware of everything that Joe King possessed that Lee never could. It was Joe who shared Amanda's memories of college, Joe who had walked her down the aisle, carried her over the threshold of their home, fathered her boys. And it was Joe who would be spending the holidays with Amanda. With his family.

Lee, as always, would be spending them alone.

Despite the détente they'd achieved last year, Lee and the Colonel had never really reconnected afterward as Amanda had hoped. His uncle had been reassigned in the wake of his aborted court martial and would be spending his holidays in the Far East. Lee had gotten a card from him with a typically terse-and-to-the-point wish for a happy new year. He had, however, added a postscript: "Give my regards to Amanda."

A particularly large thud sounded outside Lee's door and he slammed the door of the cupboard in which he'd been rummaging. He'd had just about enough of this racket. Stomping across the living room, Lee had already begun his rant before he even reached the door.

"Hey! How about a little consideration, here!" he snapped, yanking the door open. "Some people like a little peace-" Lee stopped shouting, startled to find himself confronted by a fragrant wall of green . Pine needles. There was a bushy spruce tree standing outside his apartment door! Or rather, being held there by someone behind it. He saw a rustling of boughs and suddenly a smiling face appeared in a hole in the evergreen.

"Merry Christmas, Lee!"

"Amanda!" Lee exclaimed. "How..." He peered around the tree and saw several cartons stacked up on the carpet next to the door. A trail of pine needles led from his door back toward the elevator. It hadn't been the neighbors making noise – it had been Amanda, dragging all this stuff up from her station wagon.

"What is all this, Amanda?" Lee scowled.

"It's your very own deck-the-halls kit," she answered brightly, though her smile flickered briefly.

Lee opened his mouth to speak, but his partner cut him off.

"Oh, now Lee, I realize this is awfully pushy, even for me," she said rapidly, "but I just couldn't have a happy holiday thinking of you sitting in this apartment without so much as a holly berry or a cup of eggnog. And I know you hate the holidays, because of your childhood, and the Colonel and everything, and I really am sorry about that. But I figured even though you think you don't want any Christmas cheer around here, well, it couldn't make you any grumpier than you already are, and it might even make you feel a little bit better. And so I just got all this stuff and lugged it up here, but if you really, really don't want it around, I'll drag it all back down again. Maybe the man at the tree lot will let me return this."

She paused for breath, fixed her features into a solemn look and shook her head sadly. "But Lee, I really don't think he's going to take this back."

Why, since he was furious with her, couldn't Lee keep a grin from tugging at the corners of his mouth? He sighed heavily and grumbled, "Let me take that, and you might as well bring all this inside before the neighbors call my landlord." He reached into the tree, grasped the slender trunk and dragged it into the apartment. He leaned it against the wall and went into the corridor to help Amanda bring in the rest of the boxes.

"What is all this, Amanda?" he said as he picked up a carton that jingled a bit as he lifted it.

"Oh, just a few necessities," she answered. "You know, lights and garland and decorations and …" She stooped and grabbed a large tote bag. "… and a few snacks to munch on after we put everything up." She handed the bag to Lee. "Take this to the kitchen while I unpack the lights."

"Snacks?" Lee peeked into the bag, seeing several small cartons and a thermos. "Maybe we should eat first …" He suddenly became aware of a gnawing in his stomach; he never had gotten any dinner.

She shook her head. "Uh, uh. First we decorate. Then we snack."

"There seem to be a lot of rules to this operation," Lee muttered as he headed for the kitchen. He heard her chuckle behind him and smiled as he set the bag on the counter and started to unpack it. Despite her warning, he couldn't resist lifting a corner of the lid of each carton as he set them aside: Caramel corn, brightly decorated sugar cookies in a variety of shapes, some kind of salty mix made with breakfast cereal, and luscious-looking fudge, chock full of walnuts. Lee felt his mouth water. He peered around the corner at Amanda, who was bent over a box, pulling out a long string of lights. Grinning, Lee stuck his hand into the fudge box and snatched a sample, popping it quickly into his mouth. The rich, dark chocolate melted on his tongue; Lee was sure he'd never tasted anything so decadently delicious.

"Lee?" Amanda's voice called from the living room.

The agent started guiltily and hastily swallowed his forbidden treat, then sauntered innocently to where Amanda was studying the array of decorations she'd spread out on the floor. She looked up at him as he approached, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"You haven't been sneaking sweets, have you, young man?"

Lee's eyes widened in an expression of indignation. "How could you accuse me of such a thing? Unlike someone I know, I always follow instructions."

"Hm." Amanda stepped close to Lee, looked up at him, then raised her hand to cup his cheek, using her thumb to gently rub the corner of his mouth. She pulled her hand back and presented him with the evidence: a smudge of dark chocolate on her thumb. "Nice try." She rolled her eyes and licked the sweet substance from her finger. "Looks like I'd better set you to work."

Amanda instructed Lee to push the tree, which had its own stand of wood cross beams nailed to the bottom of the trunk, into the corner adjacent to the gas fireplace. Then she handed him one end of the light strand to nestle into the top of the tree, and showed him how to wind the lights around the boughs, tucking them into the soft tufts of needles.

As Lee reached for the plug, Amanda let out a yelp. "Not yet!" she said. "You don't turn on the lights until all the decorations are on, so you can get the full effect."

"More rules?" Lee shook his head. "Honestly, Amanda, how do you 'regular' people figure all this stuff out?"

Her lovely lips curved into an enigmatic smile. "We have our ways," she said seriously. She picked up the jingly box and set it on Lee's coffee table. Lee peered over her shoulder as she lifted the lid. Inside, the box was divided into many small compartments, each holding an ornament. Seeing the quantity, Lee was suddenly struck by a pang of guilt.

"You need to let me give you money for all this stuff," he said. "I know how tight things can be, especially around the holidays."

"Don't be silly," she answered. "It's a gift. Not your real Christmas gift, of course; I'm saving that for Christmas Eve."

Lee's heart fluttered a bit at her words; did she expect to see him on Christmas Eve?

"Besides," Amanda was continuing, "it didn't really cost that much. I've been picking them up all year, at craft sales and flea markets, mostly."

"You've been planning this all year?" Lee was stunned. In his line of work, he'd been trained not to think more than a few days ahead. The future was uncertain. That Amanda had been looking forward to this moment for the past 12 months astonished and moved him. He let the feeling settle into him: Amanda thought of him, not just when they were together, but as she went about her daily routines. Browsing the aisles of some store or other, she had occasionally come upon an ornament and decided, "This is for Lee." And she'd been gathering and storing these small treasures all year. The stoic agent felt a curious lump forming in his throat.

Amanda reached into the box and pulled out an ornament, handing it to him. "You first," she said.

Lee looked at the object curiously. It was a silver star, like a sheriff's badge. He smiled slightly. It reminded him of the Western heroes he admired. "Where do I put it?" he asked.

"Wherever you want," she smiled. "No rules for this one."

He studied the tree, walking around it slowly. Finally he reached up and gently hooked the star into a branch where he could see it when he sat on his sofa. "Ta da!" he pronounced.

"Bravo!" she laughed. "But don't get cocky. We have about three dozen more to find places for."

Over the next hour, Lee and Amanda found those places. As he placed the ornaments on the tree, Lee marveled at how she'd found decorations that felt meaningful and right for him. There were lots of western-themed ones: small cowboy boots, rearing stallions, even a tiny stagecoach. There was a model Porsche, identical to his long, lost baby. And a Corvette, in honor of his current ride. Lee was astonished to find a few even more personal ornaments near the bottom of the box.

"I can't believe you found this!" He gasped, holding up a replica, in delicate porcelain, of the Hohensalzburg Castle.

"Oh, I picked it up when we were in Salzburg," Amanda answered. "Just a little souvenir."

And there was more. A miniature double-decker bus, straight from London. A little glass stein with the word "München" etched on it. A little cruise ship. Even, unbelievably, a pint-sized Winnebago, the very model of the Vigilant armored-weapons-system-on-wheels that they'd commandeered shortly after they started working together.

Together. Each new object from the box brought back a memory of the two of them – Lee Stetson and Amanda King – working together. As partners. As friends. Lee paused to watch Amanda move fluidly around the tree, arranging the ornaments with an artist's eye. Every place she put an ornament was the perfect place for that particular object. She is wonderful, he thought, letting his gaze linger on the curve of her profile as she reached up to place an ornament on a high bough. Wonderful. Incredible.

Precious.

She turned to him suddenly, startling him from his reverie. "Any more in there?" she asked, gesturing toward the box. He looked, and felt a stab of regret that the container was empty.

"Looks like that was the last of them," he said.

A mischievous twinkle appeared in Amanda's eye. "Not quite." She crossed to the couch, where she had set down her purse earlier. She reached in and withdrew a small object wrapped in tissue paper.

"Let me guess: a scarecrow for the top of the tree," Lee joked.

Amanda looked confused a moment, then understanding dawned on her face. "Ah, because Scarecrow is your code name!" she nodded. "I didn't even think of that! I guess it's because to me, you're just Lee."

Lee felt something like a warm hand gently wrapping around his heart. Somehow it was incredibly important to him that he was "just Lee" to this woman. "Well, what is it then?" he asked in a voice that sounded a little shaky in his ears.

She held it out to him. "Open it and find out."

He took the little package, relishing the brush of their fingertips as they made the exchange. He carefully unwrapped the paper to reveal a small, cylindrical object made of crimson felt, with a little gold tassel affixed to the top. Lee looked at it, then at Amanda, curiosity written on his handsome face. "A fez?"

Amanda giggled. "Technically, I guess." She gazed up at him, her smile broadening at some secret joke. "It's a hat," she prompted. "A red hat."

Realization dawned and Lee laughed out loud, holding the prize up delightedly.

"I had to make it myself," Amanda explained. Her eyebrows furrowed a bit in consternation. "You'd think the Shriners would put out a commemorative ornament, but apparently not." She shrugged.

Lee scanned the tree, selected a branch near the top and placed the hat-memory almost reverently. He turned back to Amanda. "Thank you," he said softly. "This is very special."

She beamed at him in response. "Well, I guess it's time," she said then.

Lee's face fell. "You have to go?"

"Not yet!" she said. "If you think I'm going to let you eat all those snacks yourself, you're going to be disappointed." Amanda gestured toward the tree. "It's time to turn on the lights."

Lee went to the plug and inserted it into the wall socket. Instantly the living room was brightened by a golden glow. "Wow," Lee almost whispered as he moved to stand beside Amanda. They gazed at the sight silently. Almost unconsciously, Lee slipped an arm around Amanda's waist, heard her sigh and felt her gently lean into him.

This.

This is what the holidays are like for other people. Regular people. People with families. People who love, and are loved. But instead of feeling bad, these thoughts buoyed Lee's spirit. It seemed possible, all at once, that he, too, could have this. Perhaps he already did.

Lee experienced a wave of gratitude as he watched the softly blinking lights on the tree, smelled the mixture of pine needles and a light strawberry scent from Amanda's hair, felt her warm, soft body pressed against him.

He felt Amanda shiver suddenly. "Are you cold?" he asked, breaking their embrace to frown at her. He saw that her cheeks had a rosy flush, and she quickly broke eye contact with him.

"Aw, no. I'm not cold," she said, almost shyly. "I guess it's just the tree and everything. It really is beautiful, isn't it?" She walked over to the tree and lightly fingered one of the sparkling ornaments.

Lee looked at her standing there, next to his very own Christmas tree. Somehow it wasn't the twinkling lights that held his gaze, however. "The most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he murmured.

She turned back to him, her smile shining more brightly than a Christmas star. "Now … how about those snacks?"

-End-