Title: What's in a Kiss? 1/3

Author: xfphile

E-mail: xfphile@yahoo.com

Rating: G (one swear word)

Archive: If you want to--just let me know.

Summary: Reflections during a kiss.

Time Frame: Second season, during the episode "Ship of Spies."

Disclaimer: The characters of Lee Stetson, Amanda King, Billy Melrose, Francine Desmond and anybody else belong to Shoot the Moon Productions, Warner Brothers, and any other Powers-That-Be. There is no copyright infringement intended.

Feedback is welcomed; flames will be used to cook my dinner.

What's in a Kiss--Lee

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"You may now kiss the bride."

Those were six words I never thought I'd hear, at least not in conjunction with myself. I am a bachelor and quite happy to be that way. But now, as I stare into the warm, trusting brown eyes of Amanda King, I find myself filled with a strange feeling. It feels like . . .anticipation? What the hell? Why is the thought of kissing Amanda making my heart pound and my palms sweat? I take a quick second to analyze my thoughts, but come up with nothing. All I know it that it's something I don't expect and can't explain. I just know that it's here, in my mind, filling me with confusion.

I glance at the 'preacher' who just married us; he nods and gestures as if to say, 'Get on with it.' I swallow and turn to my partner, releasing the hand I placed an 18-carat wedding ring on not two minutes ago. Her hand slowly falls to her side as she watches my own hands, the left now sporting a plain gold band on its ring finger, steadily rise and take a gentle grip on her veil.

I notice that my hands are shaking and my eyes widen in surprise. If I didn't know better, I'd say I was nervous. That can't be right, though. It's not like Amanda and I are really married, unless my records have been changed and nobody bothered to inform me that my last name is now Stetsman. I smile very slightly at that thought, proud of my quick thinking and simple but elegant solution. I've kept our covers secure and spared Amanda the pain and embarrassment of a second divorce.

Whoa! Where did that thought come from? Why do I care about how Amanda would feel if she had to get a divorce from me? A strange sensation suddenly flashes through my mind as I finish my thought. I blink, trying to identify it. All I manage to catch is a fleeting sensation of guilt and an even more illusive glimpse of pain. Behind them both is something else, something I can't make out.

I give myself a slight mental shake and come back to the present. While I was chasing shadows, my hands had been obeying their initial instructions and raising her veil. Amanda is standing in front of me, looking absolutely beautiful. Of their own volition, my eyes slide over her, taking in the curves partially outlined by the lacy white wedding dress she is wearing. I suddenly catch the direction my thoughts are taking and quickly yank them back to where they belong: the matter of my missing friend Orlando and his mysterious message. Actually, anything that takes them away from Amanda King will do nicely.

Even as I force myself to pull my thoughts away from her, my body begins leaning towards her and my hands fall to her waist. Our eyes meet and behind the trust in hers, I see a trace of fear. For some reason, that bothers me and I smile reassuringly at her, trying to help. She smiles back, but the look in her eyes doesn't change. If anything, her fear increases. I frown slightly, trying to figure out what she's afraid of. As our heads come closer together, I watch her intently, trying to understand her reaction. All at once, understanding hits me in a rare moment of clarity. She's afraid of how I'll react to this kiss.

As the realization sinks in, I begin to feel offended. Why should she be worried about how I'll react? There's nothing to react to. We're business associates, nothing more. There is no emotional involvement whatsoever between us. This is a cover kiss, nothing more—and nothing less, I am forced to add as my subconscious turns traitor for a moment. I want to kiss her, but it's only because I'm curious about the way she'd react. We've kissed before, when I was posing as Sandy Newcomb, but I don't count that one because I didn't have to kiss her. I just did it to see how she would react.

At the thought of that kiss, I start to breath a little faster. My eyes widen slightly in shock as I feel my own reaction to something that isn't even an issue. I release my breath and tighten my grip on her waist, pulling her closer to me. She senses the change in my mood and shoots a questioning glance at me, silently asking if everything is okay. I let my eyes answer for me, telling her yes, everything is fine. She acknowledges it and then lets her beautiful brown eyes close, tilting her face up to mine at the same time.

Her breathing gets faster and I can feel her trembling. That's how close we are. To my stunned disbelief, I discover that I am shaking, too. I fight to curb my body's reaction and manage to bring it under control. Our lips are mere centimeters apart now and I take one last look at her face before closing my own eyes. A split second later, our lips meet.

To be continued . . .