Disclaimer: none of these characters belong to me; they belong to Shoot the Moon Enterprises and Warner Bros to whom I am eternally grateful for the opportunity to take them out for a spin and bit of light humour.

March, 1984

Lee Stetson leaned back against the bar and let his gaze sweep the crowded dance floor of the Embassy party. The Mardi Gras theme that the Brazilian Ambassador's wife had selected was making it more difficult than usual to study the crowd as masked men and women mingled with wait staff dressed in Carnivale costumes. This was a serious problem because of the report they had received the day before that Hans Merkel had entered the country along with swirling rumours of a terrorist attack against an unnamed embassy. As a freelance mercenary, it was not immediately apparent who might have hired Merkel, but with help from informants, the Agency had managed to narrow the target list down to either the Brazilian or Israeli embassies. Mossad had been alerted and security had been tightened even further at the Israeli Embassy but it had been too late to cancel the largest party of the year at the Brazilian Embassy. Instead the Agency had had to scramble to place agents at the party to scour the crowd.

"This would be a lot easier if we knew what he looked like," Lee muttered to himself.

Suddenly Billy's voice crackled into his earpiece. "Funny you should say that, Scarecrow. We just got a photo over the wire of Merkel. I've sent Amanda in with a copy for you. She's already gotten one to Francine in the lobby but keep your eyes peeled for her – we can't waste any time if he's there – you'll need to find her asap!"

Lee straightened and his gaze swept the costumed crowd, trying to figure out how he was going to find one diminutive brunette in a room this crowded. "Okay Billy but it's packed in here. What is she wearing?"

"What do you care?" said a voice at his elbow, startling Lee enough to spill the glass of Scotch he held in one hand. He turned to find a masked Amanda standing beside him, laughing at how she managed to make him jump. He could tell from the sparkle in her dark brown eyes that there was something else she was laughing at, but although a memory of something flitted across his brain, he couldn't quite place it. She reached into her clutch purse and pulled out the photo Billy had promised.

"A-man-da! How did you find me so fast?"

He put the scotch glass back on the bar and glanced quickly at the photo in his hand, memorizing Merkel's scowling features.

Amanda tilted her head back and looked up at him, absently reaching up to straighten his bowtie. "Ah well, that's the thing about scarecrows. They're always head and shoulders above the rest of the field!"

Chuckling at her own joke, Amanda turned and slipped back into the crowd. As he watched her slim figure making its way back to the door, Lee suddenly felt off balance, almost dizzy. "What the hell?" he thought to himself, and then that niggling feeling suddenly blossomed into a full memory.

The helicopter lifted, dropped, spun. Lee desperately pushing pedals with his feet while trying to undo the knotted ropes around his wrist. Amanda gasping for breath, trying to figure out which way to move the throttle from Lee's screamed directions. Finally rising above the treeline and heading away from the gunshots from the Soviet agents on the ground. Suddenly realizing that somehow he had been rescued by the Arlington housewife he had only met a few days before. Asking her the one stupid thing that sprang into his mind in that instant.

"What are you wearing?"

Amanda turning towards him with a look of complete disbelief.

"What do you care?"

As Amanda turned in the doorway and grinned back at him before vanishing, Lee burst out laughing.

"Something up Scarecrow?" Billy's voice said in his ear.

"Nope Billy, just remembered something funny."

Just then he heard Francine's voice calling across the room "Scarecrow! By the patio doors!" and he turned to see Hans Merkel making his way toward escape. All laughter gone, Agent Stetson moved rapidly through the crowd, tackling one of Europe's most notorious terrorists and bringing him to the ground.

May, 1985

Lee stood at the kitchen sink of the Cooperman house finishing off his sink sandwich. Despite being a pretty good cook, he was still bachelor enough to eat many of his meals over the sink to save on having to do dishes later. It had been a long day, culminating in his first night at this house on Amanda's street where he had managed to both soak himself trying to find the off switch for the sprinkler and then also lock himself out of the house. Now dressed comfortably in cut off sweats and his robe, he wandered over to the fridge. "When did she even have time to do this?" he thought to himself for the second time this evening as he surveyed the collection of fixings and leftovers that Amanda had somehow managed to smuggle into the house for him. Leaning down to grab the milk jug off the door, he twisted off the cap, raised it to his lips and took a long swig, only to choke as a voice suddenly spoke beside him.

"Lee Stetson, that is such a disgusting habit! Did your uncle really let you get away with that growing up?"

Still coughing from the milk that had just gone down the wrong way, Lee turned to find Amanda's face peering in through the kitchen window.

"A-man-da! You scared the hell out of me!" he spluttered. "Again!" he added, remembering how she had sprung put of the shrubs in the front yard less than an hour ago.

"Like I said, now you know how it feels." She grinned through the window and leaned forward to rest her arms on the sill. "And now I know how this feels."

Lee smiled back, charmed by her delight in their reversed situations. "And why are you here exactly? Just come over to trample someone else's rose bushes?"

Amanda chuckled. "No, I just remembered something else I meant to tell you about Mrs. Courtney that was bothering me. And I couldn't call you because although we got you set up with the lease, we couldn't get the phone company to turn on your phone until tomorrow, which you have to admit is a pretty ridiculous thing when the Agency can pull so many strings to do so many things and yet they can't even get an agent set up with a simple phone..."

"A-man-da!"

She stopped mid-flow and stared at Lee's upraised hands in the surrender position. "Oh right! Sorry! Anyway, Mrs. Courtney? Remember how I was telling you about her earlier? The really nasty woman at the meeting today? Well she's always going on and on about all the protests she was involved in the 60s and the ones she's been doing since she moved in this neighborhood in 1980, but you know she never talks about anything in the 1970s and you know I was thinking that's a really odd gap in time. I mean what was she doing all that time when she's always going on and on about everything else? Now I think she said she lived in California before she came here but I was thinking that maybe you should get someone to check her background …"

Nodding as he followed the Amanda ramble, Lee stretched across the kitchen island to grab the pencil and paper that sat beside the unusable phone to make notes.

"…before the march tomorrow and see if she has any history and WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?"

Lee stopped mid-stretch and looked up at Amanda in confusion. She had stopped speaking and was staring at him in wide-eyed shock, a rosy blush coming to her cheeks. Except she wasn't staring at him – her eyes appeared to be locked somewhere in the direction of the top of the kitchen island he was leaning across. Glancing down the front of his open robe, he couldn't see anything except the top edge of his sweatpants and then suddenly realized that from her position at the window, Amanda couldn't even see that. All she could see was his chest and navel and the fine line of swirling hair that led down to… Stifling a chuckle, he looked back up at Amanda who was still staring at the top edge of the kitchen island like a frightened rabbit.

He was just about to tell her he was not actually standing naked in his kitchen at 10 o'clock at night when he suddenly remembered the scene that had taken place in Billy's office that morning when she had so effectively left him gaping like a beached cod in front of Billy and Francine. Leaning back slowly, he grinned and moved to step around the edge of the island. Amanda squeaked and her eyes scrunched shut, the blush on her cheeks getting rosier with every passing second.

Now grinning fully, Lee dropped his voice to his best seductive tone. "What do you care?"

There was a long pause while Amanda, eyes still tightly closed, digested what he had just asked. Suddenly her eyes flew open and Lee burst out laughing as he watched her eyes drop to the sweatpants and then back up to his face, and the blush got even redder, which he wouldn't have thought possible. He cocked one eyebrow at her as if waiting for her answer and then winked.

"Gotcha" he said. A long pause and then to his delight, her deep throaty laugh suddenly burst out. Immediately, she slammed her hand over her mouth realizing that she had laughed loud enough for nosy Edna Gilstrap to have heard her over the back fence.

They stood there, Lee now helpless with laughter while Amanda rocked back and forth silently on her toes still trying to muffle her own. Finally getting control of herself, Amanda managed to gasp out "I'll see you in the morning" and vanished from the open window, Scarecrow-style.

July, 1986

Amanda King burst in the back door of her house, followed closely by her partner Lee Stetson. Spinning in place she put both hands on his chest to stop him coming into the house.

"No! You stay there! I don't need two of us tracking this sticky mess across my kitchen!" she yelled. Lee rolled his eyes and stepped out the door and back around to the patio. As she darted across to the kitchen sink and turned on the water, he popped back up in front of the open window.

"What are you doing? A-man-da, we are supposed to be getting back down to the office in time to help with Murphy's interrogation! You're just supposed to change clothes!"

"Listen Buster, it's your fault I am covered head to toe in barbecue sauce and just like you didn't want me getting this all over the seats of your precious car, I have no interest in getting every surface between here and my bedroom covered in something that will leave a permanent stain!

Lee raised his hands in surrender. "Ok, ok, you're right, you're right! But hurry up already. Billy's going to be wondering why we're so far behind everyone else getting back to the Agency!"

"No, he won't because Francine will tell him where we are which she will REALLY enjoy because she just LOVES it when these things happen to me and she comes out smelling like a rose, while I end up smelling of nothing but honey garlic. Oh honestly, Lee, it's even in my hair! Couldn't you have just tackled Murphy like you usually do instead of throwing that entire bowl of barbecue sauce across the restaurant? Why couldn't he have been having his meet in a pizza place? At least then I might only have been hit by some pizza dough! I suppose I should just be happy you went with honey garlic instead of the hot and spicy because if that had gotten in my eyes…"

Intent on scrubbing the sticky sauce off her hands and upper arms, Amanda never noticed Lee drop suddenly out of sight until a shocked voice behind her suddenly asked "A-MAN-DA! WHAT are you wearing!?"

"What do you care?" answered Amanda automatically in the second before she realized that it wasn't Lee who had asked. Slowly turning, she found her mother standing behind her in the kitchen looking her up and down with a shocked expression.

"Well dear, it seems like a reasonable question: answered Dotty, still eyeing her doubtfully.

Amanda looked down at the tight v-necked t-shirt she was wearing, the word "Hooters" still clearly visible through the giant splash of sticky sauce, and the very, very, very short shorts.

"Aaaaahhh, well you see, Mother..." she paused, scrambling to come up with a reasonable explanation for an outfit she would normally never be caught dead in. "Aaahhh, well, you see IFF is doing a documentary on these new sports bars that are opening up – you know the ones with the waitresses in skimpy outfits, you know like, uh, this one. And, um, my boss asked if I'd be willing to dress the part and work there one day so that we could try and get inside the head of someone willing to do this for minimum wage and tips. But as you can see, I had a bit of an, um, incident with the barbecue sauce for the wings so I've had to come home and change."

Dotty looked at her uncertainly. "That seems like a very odd documentary for a government agency to be making, dear"

"Well, Mother, they're approaching it as part of a series on the ERA and feminism and Gloria Steinham and bra-burning and that sort of thing you know." Amanda paused for breath, hoping her mother would swallow such an unlikely story. Fortunately she had left the kitchen tap running because it was muffling the stifled guffaws coming from the flowerbed beneath her kitchen window.

"Well, if you say so dear, but I really think you should at least be asking for some sort of clothing allowance the way you're always coming home with your clothes all ripped or covered in something like that time you ruined that beautiful cream suit with, what was it, red wine? That Mr. Steadman of yours always seem so nice when he calls, maybe he could get you some sort of compensation for ruined clothing. Although…" Dotty paused and eyed Amanda's outfit again. "Perhaps it's best if this one stays ruined because I certainly don't think you should be out in public in that outfit again"

"Yes, Mother" breathed Amanda in relief. "I mean, no Mother, I certainly wouldn't and I will certainly ask Mr. Steadman about that clothing allowance the next time I see him."

"Yes, well." Dotty gave Amanda one last up and down look and then turned to leave the kitchen. "You makes sure to do that dear. In the meantime, I'm just going out for coffee with that nice retired widowed doctor that just moved into the Coopermans' old house. I'll be back in a bit."

"Ok, Mother. I'm just going to shower and change clothes and then head back down to IFF to help with the interrog – uh, interim editing but I should be back in time to make dinner." Amanda called after her mother.

Turning back to the sink to finish wiping the last of the barbecue sauce from her forearms, she could still hear Lee laughing outside. Grabbing the pullout hose from beside the tap, she turned the water on full and sent a jet of water over the window sill and into the flower bed below, sighing with satisfaction as the laughter turned to spluttering.

"A-MAN-DA!"

"Gotcha, big fella!"

October 1986

"So you see, Mrs King, recognition codes are a real art form." Efraim Beaman paused to push his glasses back up his nose. Amanda King had stopped to chat with him on her way out of the Codes and Ciphers course and somehow they had ended up discussing how recognition codes were decided on for each situation. Mrs. King puzzled him and infuriated him just a little because she was so unlike any other student he had had come through his training courses and while it seemed like she was the most unlikely field agent the Agency had ever had, she got results like no rookie had ever done. Granted she was paired with the best agent they had, but even Scarecrow seemed to admire her, and often attributed their field success to her insight and instincts.

He couldn't fault her enthusiasm for the training either. Amanda was now speaking, eyes sparkling up at him with real interest.

"Well, Efraim, that's really fascinating. I remember when I was first listening to the Agency tapes to learn some Russian and the codes they had on those tapes were just so crazy, you know, all about feeding caviar to pigs and the Red Chinese. Well, no, not feeding the caviar to the Red Chinese, just the pigs. Although I'm sure the Chinese would probably have enjoyed the caviar far more than the pigs would have."

Efraim blinked as Amanda reached the end of that particularly convoluted train of thought. "Ahh, well yes, those old fashioned codes were the kind of thing we used to use to meet with foreign agents, but of course now we try and come up with things that are more innocuous for use in the field so that if anyone were to overhear it, it wouldn't seem so out of place"

"Innocuous?" queried Amanda in an encouraging tone.

"Yes – something completely commonplace but with some added detail like a brand name to make it specific. But of course, you wouldn't just use a regular brand name, you'd use something just slightly out of the ordinary to make sure you had the right person." Efraim started to become quite enthused on the topic. "So for instance, if you wanted to use a perfume name in your code, you wouldn't use Chanel No. 5 because lots of women wear that, but you might use something like L'Air du Temps because it's not quite as popular despite being a really lovely fragrance on the right woman." He paused suddenly, his mind momentarily elsewhere.

"Oh yes, I know that one," Amanda's smile grew a bit brighter. "Francine Desmond wears that one, doesn't she?"

"Yes," replied Efraim dreamily. "Yes, she does". The silence drew out for a few seconds longer before he realized Amanda was looking at him expectantly, smile still in place. "Right! Yes! So, um, let's say we needed someone to approach you. They could stand beside you for a moment somewhere public and then say to you "That's a lovely perfume, what are you wearing?" and then you would say something like…?" He paused to let Amanda fill in a response sentence.

To his confusion, she began to laugh and said "Well, if it was me I'd probably answer with "What…"

"Do you care?" finished a deep voice from the doorway. Spinning around, Efraim realized that Scarecrow and Francine Desmond were now standing in the doorway of his classroom. Stetson appeared to be laughing at some private joke of his own, one shared by Mrs. King judging by the way she was laughing up at him. Francine obviously had no idea what the joke was either, based on the adorable confused expression on her face.

"Sorry to interrupt, Beaman," apologized Stetson, never taking his eyes off Amanda. "Amanda, I need you".

"You need me?"

"I need you."

It seemed to Efraim like their hands were magnets, the way her hand came up to take Scarecrow's outstretched one in a fluid, almost coordinated motion. "Billy wants in his office asap".

"Gotcha" she replied. It didn't seem possible but somehow Amanda's smile had become ever brighter in the last few moments as she slipped out the door and set off down the hallway in her customary spot at Stetson's hip. As he watched from the doorway, Lee's hand settled in the small of Amanda's back to guide her through the crowded hallway and Amanda turned to look up at him and said something that made him laugh harder.

"Man, I wish someone would look at me like that" said a whispered voice beside him. Efraim turned to look at Francine who was still standing watching Scarecrow and his partner disappear into the bullpen doors.

"I'm sure someone does" he said to her. "Maybe you just haven't noticed yet". Francine spun towards him and as her mouth opened, Efraim blanched and braced himself for one of her usual sarcastic comments. Unexpectedly she paused, an arrested expression in her eyes. She stared at him silently for a moment, and then snapping her mouth shut, she spun on one heel and walked off down the hall towards the elevator.

"What the hell just happened?" said Efraim out loud, as completely confused as ever by women's unexpected reactions to things he said.

June 1987

Amanda Stetson put down her novel and slipped further under the covers of the bed. Turning to look at the empty pillow beside her, she sighed deeply and drew it closer to her face, trying to inhale the scent of the husband she had been missing for far too long. Still holding it close, she turned to reach for the bedside table lamp, but as she did so, the phone on the table began to ring. Praying that nothing had gone wrong at the baseball sleepaway camp that would involve her having to get out of this cozy bed, she picked up the handset.

"Hello."

"Amanda." Lee's beautiful baritone voice floated down the humming phone line, sending her heart soaring.

"Leeeeee," she breathed softly. "I was just thinking about you! Where are you? I thought this was a zero-contact mission! When are you coming home?"

She could hear Lee chuckling down the line and realized she could also hear the sounds of a busy office in the background. "I'm still in Berlin and it was zero contact but we got a break and arrested Kukarin this morning so I'll be home tomorrow morning once we get all the debriefs done here. No wait, I mean my tomorrow morning, your day after tomorrow morning. Hell, I'm losing track – what time is it there?"

Amanda glanced at the clock. "9 o'clock. So that it makes it, what, 5 o'clock in the morning in Berlin?"

"Yeah, we've been out all night getting Kukarin. I've just wrapped up here and then I'm heading back to the hotel to catch some shuteye and write my debrief for the West German bureau before my flight tonight. God, it will be so good to get home. What are you and the family up to tonight?"

Amanda chuckled. "Well the boys are off at camp until Sunday afternoon and Mother is off at some kind of aerodrome event with Curt and I've been up since early because Francine needed help at the Agency so I've gone to bed early and was just sitting here hugging your pillow and wishing you were here. And here you are! Sort of." She reached the end of her ramble and waited for Lee to respond but all she could hear was the office background noise.

"Lee?"

"Uh, yeah. Umm, sweetheart, I'm gonna call you back in a bit from a more secure line." Suddenly the line went dead.

"Well, that's odd," thought Amanda, staring at the phone. "What line is more secure than an Agency telephone?" She waited a few more minutes for Lee to call back but as the minutes passed, she decided that he must have gotten caught back into something to do with closing his case. Realizing she was never going to go to sleep now with the adrenaline rushing through her from hearing Lee's voice, she sighed and picked her novel back up. Thirty minutes later, the phone rang again.

"Lee?"

"Hey toots."

Amanda smiled as the voice she loved came down the phone line. "Where are you calling from? Surely the bureau phones are secure?" As she spoke she realized that the sounds of the office had disappeared from the background.

"I'm calling from the hotel."

"Whaaaat?" She began to laugh. "How is that a more secure line?"

Lee's chuckle warmed her heart. "Well, I didn't really mean secure. I meant private. I had something I had to ask you and I couldn't do it in a busy office. So did you just say you'd gone to bed alone in an empty house with my pillow?"

"Well, it's the next best thing to having you here. Was that the question?"

"Oh no, that wasn't the question". Something in the way Lee's voice had dropped made Amanda's breath stop and butterfly flutters start deep in her core.

"So what was the question?" she whispered down the phone, wishing she could see Lee's beautiful, beautiful hazel eyes.

"What are you wearing?"

There was a long silence, so long that Lee began to wonder if something had happened to his Amanda and then to his delight, a long throaty sexy-as-hell laugh breathed down the phone line and a whispered voice said:

"Well, Big Fella, what do you care?"