DISCLAIMER: Scarecrow and Mrs. King belong to Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon Productions. No infringement intended.

TITLE: The Little Voice

AUTHOR: Rita (dittypiddler)

A big thanks to Cheryl for catching my boo boos and putting me back on the right track. Many thanks to that bevy of brilliance---Miriam and the MEAP Team---for the beta.

SUMMARY: A case, a party, and a Scarecrow.

TIMEFRAME: Early second season, before Amanda’s awful haircut.

RATING: PG

FEEDBACK: Always.

THE LITTLE VOICE

“Aw, come on, Billy! Amanda can’t pull this off.” Lee heard a snicker and glowered at Agent David Atkins.

“I don’t know why not, Scarecrow.” Atkins licked his lips and leaned back in the chair in front of Billy Melrose's desk. “She sure has the looks for it.”

“Can it, Atkins.”

Billy held up his hand. “All right, all right. Both of you, can it. Lee, it’s a simple assignment. Amanda will do just fine.”

“This isn’t the kind of party she’s used to. Bronson’s the publisher of a cheap girlie magazine, for God’s sake. He entertains the beautiful people---jet setters, celebrities, models. That's not Amanda.” Lee ran his hand through his hair and started to pace. “Why can’t Francine do it?”

“Because Francine isn’t available. And neither is any other female agent. It’s Amanda or nobody. All she has to do is accompany Atkins to the party. He’ll be the one keeping an eye on Bronson and acting as your backup. Not her.” Billy shuffled the file folders on his desk. “Bronson’s magazine is the perfect cover for laundering drug money, and we know he keeps his records at his Virginia estate. Those ledgers contain everything we need to tie our publisher friend to the Colombian drug cartel.” He grimaced. “And the last agent who tried to get that evidence disappeared. So it’s up to you to find it.”

Billy’s expression told Lee he was in no mood for arguments. “Okay. I guess she can’t mess up too badly.” He wouldn’t bet on it though.

“Fine. I’ll call Amanda and set things up.” Billy reached for the phone. “That’s all.” He waved the two agents out.

~ ~ ~

“I don’t know why you’re so hot and bothered.” Atkins cocked an eyebrow. “Is something going on with you and Mrs. King?”

“Hardly. She’s just a simple housewife. Not my type. Not your type either, David.”

“We’ll see, my boy.” Atkins laughed. “We’ll see.”

Oh, God. The Agency Lothario would chase anything in a skirt. And Amanda was naïve enough to fall for his line. Not that it should matter to Lee. It didn’t. It was none of his business. But he was responsible for her. After all, he had gotten her into the spy business. Somebody had to save that woman from leeches like Atkins.

Maybe he was worrying about nothing. Atkins didn’t know Amanda. He’d soon find out she wasn’t his type. What would a womanizer like him want with a suburban mother of two?

Yeah, right. What did he think that Don Juan would want?

Lee’s fists clenched. “Just keep your mind on business.”

“Sure, pal.” Atkins winked and sauntered back to his desk.

~ ~ ~ ~

Lee followed Atkins into their supervisor’s office, and Billy looked up from his papers. “I’ve spoken to Mrs. King. She’ll be here in a few minutes. I’ve already briefed her.”

“Did you tell her how to dress? I can’t see Amanda managing the sexy look.”

Billy stood and stretched, glancing toward the window. “I don’t think that will a problem, Scarecrow.”

Lee followed Billy’s startled gaze to the double doors. As Amanda entered, nodding to the guards, his breath caught in his throat, and his voice deserted him.

She glided across the Bullpen, wearing--oh, man--a dangerously low-cut black gown of some shimmery material. It clung to her like a second skin, accenting every curve. The skirt was split up the side, and, with each step, a shapely thigh peeked out. My God, she was gorgeous.

He heard a “Wow!” and glared at Atkins, perched on the corner of the desk.

Atkins stood up and smoothed his hair. “Ohhh, Billy. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for this assignment.”

Lee felt his face flush with anger, his hands ball into fists. He was right. Atkins intended to put the moves on Amanda. In his tux, the guy wasn’t bad looking either---tall, black hair, blue eyes. He’d seen women with a lot more savvy than Amanda fall for him.

And while Amanda might look like a femme fatale in that outfit, she was definitely short of savvy where men were concerned.

She knocked on the door, and Billy waved her in. “Hello, Amanda.”

“Hello, sir.” She nodded to each of them in turn. “Hello, Lee. Mr. Atkins. My, you both look very handsome.”

Atkins took her hand, lifted it to his lips, and kissed it. “Thank you. And, may I say, you look ravishing.”

His voice practically dripped honey. He seemed in no hurry to relinquish her hand either. Lee felt a strong urge to punch the bozo.

As she thanked Atkins, a rosy glow tinted her cheeks, and she ducked her head. Lee made his expression impassive, but inside he was fuming. Did she have to be so damn gullible?

“I’ll second that. You look beautiful, Amanda.” Billy smiled at her.

“Thank you, sir.” When she glanced at him, Lee only nodded, not trusting his voice.

“All right. You have your assignments. Good luck.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Amanda took Atkins's proffered arm. The agent was ogling her like a starving man eyeing filet mignon. Turning to the window, Lee peered through the blinds and watched them cross the Bullpen. He saw Atkins slip his arm around her waist. Instead of protesting, she smiled at him. Lee swallowed hard and clenched his jaw.

Lee rounded on Billy. “You can’t let her go with that wolf! Not looking . . . like that. He’ll be all over her like a bad rash! She should be with . . . with someone she knows well.” That was close. He’d almost said she should be with him.

“I’m sure Amanda can handle it.” He sounded amused.

Lee’s hands landed on the desk with a thump. “Billy--”

“It’s too late to change assignments. You have your own job to worry about. You wanted to search Bronson’s office. Remember?”

Lee fidgeted under Billy’s pointed stare. Yes, he had. But that was before he knew Amanda would be involved. He straightened and took a deep breath. No use arguing. Besides, he sounded jealous, even to his own ears. Not wanting to feed his boss’s obvious curiosity, he shrugged and looked away, trying to appear indifferent. But he knew he failed.

“Fine. I just hope she doesn’t get into more trouble than Atkins can get her out of.” He spat out the name like sour milk.

He pivoted and stalked out of the office, Billy’s hearty laughter following him through the Bullpen.

^^^^^^

“Thank you very much.” Amanda nodded to the stalwart-looking butler, handing him her wrap. She took David’s arm, and they walked into what she would normally call a living room. For this room, the term seemed inadequate. Salon, perhaps?

“Oh my gosh! Isn’t this just beautiful?” The mansion was huge, at least thirty rooms, but Amanda thought she could probably fit half her house into this room. From the expensive artwork---Picasso? Dali? Miro?---adorning the walls, to the crystal chandeliers, the whole room spoke of opulence. The aroma of masses of roses and lilies mingled with the scent of perfumes she was sure the local department stores couldn't afford to stock. A dozen couples moved around the spacious dance floor, and a small band played in one corner of the room. Women in designer gowns and men in tuxedoes stood at a bar that could accommodate her whole PTA.

David gave her an engaging smile. “I assume you haven’t been in a place like this before?”

“Oh, no. I’ve seen pictures in magazines, but never the real thing. My mother wouldn’t believe this!”

David chuckled. “Let’s get some champagne.”

As they walked toward the bar, he slipped his arm around her waist, and Amanda tried not to squirm. She was supposed to be this man’s date, and he was very attractive.

Of course, he wasn’t Lee---so handsome in his tux. No man had a right to look that good. She’d been disappointed when Mr. Melrose told her she wasn’t going to this party with her usual partner. But Lee hadn’t even seemed to notice her at the office. He’d just given her a curt nod. What was that song?

If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.

Not that she took those words literally. And not that she was in love with Lee Stetson. But it would’ve been nice if he’d said something to her.

Amanda sighed. She wasn’t going to think about Lee. This was an opportunity of a lifetime. How often did a housewife from Arlington attend a party at a place like this? And with a handsome spy---even if that spy didn’t have hazel eyes and dimples.

~ ~ ~ ~

Lee scanned the crowded room and located Amanda and Atkins, dancing in the far corner. Did she have to let that octopus hold her so close? He watched as Atkins’s head dipped toward her, his lips lingering at her ear. Judging by her expression, he must be laying it on thick. Lee felt an unfamiliar knot in his stomach.

Reluctantly, he dragged his mind back to his job. Spotting his quarry at the bar, he observed him for a few minutes. Bronson's gait was unsteady, his voice too loud. The target had obviously had quite a few drinks. Good. He could search the man’s office without being disturbed.

He merged with the crowd, strolling toward the massive staircase, then turned and sidled down the long hall. Having memorized the floor plan of the house, he had no trouble finding Bronson’s office.

After making sure the hallway was deserted, Lee inserted his lockpick in the door. It opened easily, and he entered the luxurious room. A life-sized painting of a nude woman hung on the far wall. He smirked, shaking his head. A likely place for a wall safe. He tugged on the painting, but it was secure. After examining the rest of the paintings--mostly nudes--and every inch of the walls, he rifled the desk. His only reward was a locked drawer, which he jimmied. Nothing but some cash and a few papers, none of them incriminating.

A tycoon, especially one as unsavory as Bronson, without a private safe was unusual, but not unheard of. Lee scratched his head and scrutinized the room. His gaze fell on the desk chair. Practically a throne, it seemed disproportionate to the mahogany desk. Running his hands over the black suede chair, he felt a tiny protrusion and pressed. The back of the chair swung open, revealing a shallow, built-in safe. He withdrew a small electronic device from his pocket and placed it against the lock. Moments later, the door sprang open with a click. Shifting the documents aside, he removed a leather-bound ledger.

Flipping through the pages, he found a list of numbers and corresponding dates. Bingo. Pulling a miniature camera from his pocket, he hurriedly snapped pictures of Bronson’s coded cash transactions. He extracted the film and stuffed it into the small pocket sewn inside his cummerbund. After slipping the camera into his coat pocket, he returned the ledger to its hiding place and straightened the documents in the safe, leaving no trace of his activities.

Too late, he noticed a blinking red light on the underside of the desk. Hearing a rustling sound behind him, he started to turn. He felt a sharp pain in his head, and then blackness engulfed him.

~ ~ ~ ~

Amanda stiffened. There it was again---that feeling. Like a cold finger, sliding up her spine. Something was wrong. She surveyed the room, trying to spot Lee, but he was nowhere in sight. He must still be searching Mr. Bronson’s office. She should be with him, watching his back. Not dancing with David. As they moved around the floor, her apprehension grew.

“David, I think something’s wrong. We should find Lee.”

“Lee can take care of himself, Amanda.” His arm drew her closer. “He’s a big boy, and Bronson’s still at the bar, getting soused. So Lee’s all right.”

“I have a bad feeling. Please. I really think we should find him.” She tried to pull away, but David held her tighter.

He chuckled. “You worry too much. Just relax and enjoy yourself.” His lips brushed her cheek. “I certainly am.” His hand slid up her bare back.

No use arguing with him. “You enjoy all you want. I’m going to find Lee.” She wrenched free and hurried from the room, ignoring David’s insistent voice behind her. Before he could stop her, she ducked into the crowd and worked her way to the hall beside the stairs. She’d snuck a peek at the floor plan on Billy’s desk and knew the approximate location of the office. Now she just had to figure out which room. Hugging the wall, she began to turn doorknobs.

~ ~ ~ ~

Groaning, Lee opened his eyes and tried to get his bearings. Feeling the roughness of the carpet under his face, he rolled onto his side and instantly regretted the movement when pain stabbed through his head. He had no idea how long he’d been unconscious. With difficulty, he focused on the room. Empty. After handcuffing his hands behind his back and gagging him, his assailant hadn’t bothered to stick around. He tried to move his legs and discovered they were bound.

This was a fine mess. Some agent he was. Damn it. He should’ve noticed the alarm. And known that Bronson would have his henchmen close by.

As his head cleared, he started to think. Atkins must still be at the party with Amanda. He didn’t like the man, but he was a good agent. When Lee didn’t return, Atkins would know something had happened and look for him.

He heard a faint noise outside the door---a scratching sound, like a lock being picked--- and he tensed. The door crept open, and a pair of brown eyes peered into the room. Amanda. Relief washed over him.

“Lee! Oh my gosh!” She rushed to him, hairpin in hand, and removed the gag.

Lee took a deep breath and licked his dry lips. “How'd you know I was in trouble?” As she knelt beside him, her skirt parted, and her knee brushed against his hip.

“I always know when you’re in trouble.” She untied his legs and then looked at his hands. “Oh, no. It would have to be handcuffs. I’m not sure this bobby pin will work.” She tried it. “No, it’s not wide enough.”

“Check my pants pocket. With my luck, they took my lock picks, but look anyway.”

“Leeee.” She drew back. “Are you sure you didn’t put them in your coat?”

“No, Amanda. I put them in my left pants pocket.” Under different circumstances, he’d be amused by her dismayed expression. “Will you just get on with it? And hurry up. The bad guys may come back any minute.”

“Okay.” She sighed, and then her hand inched into his pocket. He felt her fingers wiggle, and a very agreeable tingle ran through his body. “They’re gone.”

“I’ll give the bastards an ‘A’ for thoroughness. Here. Take my belt off and use the buckle.” He thrust his hips toward her. “You’ve done it before. Remember?”

“Yeah.” She bit her lip, then unbuckled his belt and pulled it off. At least this time she didn’t pinch anything. As she removed the cuffs, Lee smiled in spite of himself. Amanda was getting pretty good at picking locks. He put his arm around her shoulders, and she helped him to his feet.

He felt inside his cummerbund. “Hell! He got the film.”

“Who?”

“The creep who conked me on the head, Amanda. Who do you think?”

“Oh.”

“Come on. Let’s get out of here.” Lee took her arm and propelled her toward the door.

~ ~ ~ ~

When they reached the main room, the crowd had dispersed, and he saw Billy striding toward them, looking relieved.

“Lee. Amanda. Are you all right?”

“Yeah, we’re fine, but I lost the film.” He scanned the room, his anger rising. “Where the hell is Atkins? Why didn’t that jerk back me up? And where's Bronson?”

“Take it easy, Lee. Things have been happening pretty fast. Bronson left, and Atkins followed him. He saw one of his men pass him the film and called for backup. Before we could get here, Bronson ran and Atkins tailed him to Dulles. The team watching the airport nabbed him and recovered the film. It’s safe. We just finished rounding up the rest of Bronson’s goons, and I was coming to look for you.”

“Oh.” Lee fingered the knot on the back of his head. “Well, I’m glad something went right tonight.” When he saw Atkins hurrying toward them, he scowled and glanced at Amanda, hovering close to his side. He needed to get her out of here. “Amanda, go wait in my car. It’s parked at the end of the driveway.” He shoved the keys into her hand. “I’ll be there soon and take you back to the Agency to pick up your car.”

“But, Lee, shouldn’t you go to the hospital? What about your head?”

“I’m fine.” He ran an impatient hand through his hair and winced. “Just go. Please. You’ll only be in the way here.”

“Humph!” Amanda glared at him and flounced out the door.

Grinning, Billy patted Lee on the shoulder and headed toward the other agents, passing Atkins.

“Lee, I’m sorry. I should’ve been there for you.”

Atkins looked so contrite Lee swallowed his anger. “I guess you couldn’t have known.”

“Amanda knew. I should’ve listened to her.”

Lee frowned. “What do you mean?”

“We were dancing, and she kinda stiffened up. She kept telling me something was wrong, and we should look for you, but I wouldn’t listen.” He looked sheepish. “I guess I was, umm, distracted by, uh, other things.”

"Uh-huh. I can imagine."

“She took off to look for you herself. I started to follow her, but then I saw Bronson leave and . . . I guess she was better backup than I was. I’m really sorry.”

“It couldn’t be helped.” Lee shrugged. “At least we got the list.”

“Thanks.” Atkins offered his hand, and Lee shook it. Leaving Atkins and Billy to wrap things up, he headed to his car.

~ ~ ~ ~

Amanda was silent during the drive to the Agency, staring straight ahead. Glancing at her, Lee noted the stubborn set of her chin. Evidently she was still angered by his dismissal of her. He had to say something. After all, she had saved his butt. Again.

He cleared his throat. “Look, Amanda. I’m sorry I was so abrupt with you back there. I was just . . . you know.” Worried about you. And . . .jealous? “I really do appreciate what you did. Forgive me?”

She turned to him, and her expression softened. “Of course I forgive you. I know you were under a lot of stress. Not to mention your poor head. Does it still hurt?”

Lee smiled. “No, it’s fine.” Just like Amanda to worry about him. “I’m curious about something. You said you always know when I’m in trouble. What did you mean?”

“It’s strange. I really do always know. It’s like this little voice in my head whispers, 'Amanda, Lee’s in trouble again. Better go rescue him.'” She gave him a radiant smile.

He laughed. “Well, I’ve very glad you listened to it.” He took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze.

“Me, too.” Amanda’s eyes lowered, and Lee realized he was caressing her fingers. He snatched his hand back and gripped the steering wheel, turning his attention to the road.

~ ~ ~ ~

When they pulled into the Agency parking lot, Lee parked close to Amanda’s station wagon. As he walked her to her car, his eyes were irresistibly drawn to her. In that dress, no wonder she had distracted Atkins. Lee was certainly distracted. He took her keys, unlocked the car, and opened the door.

Amanda turned to him. “Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re welcome. And, Amanda . . .”

“Yes?”

“I really am glad you listened to that little voice.” He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. A tinge of pink colored her cheeks, and she lowered her eyes. Looking up at him, a smile tugged at her lips, and she tilted her head.

“I’ve gotten used to listening to that voice. I can tell when one of the boys is hurt. Like the time Jamie fell off his bike. Of course, he wasn’t really hurt, thank goodness, just a scraped knee and a couple of bruises. I didn’t even have to take him to the emergency room. It could’ve been worse. I keep telling that child to wear his kneepads. But you know how boys are. He’s always forgetting. And then there was the time Phillip--”

Lee placed his finger on her lips. “Good night, Amanda. Be careful driving home.”

“Oh, I will.” She sat down and smiled at him. “Good night.” When she swung her long legs into the car, her skirt gaped open. As she reached for her seat belt, the overhead light illuminated her delicate profile, giving her an ethereal glow.

Lee couldn’t keep his eyes off her---her slender neck, the enticing curve of her breast, her bare back, her lightly-tanned thigh, her . . . what would it be like to touch . . .

Giving himself a mental shake, he cleared his throat and closed the car door.

Watching her drive away, he shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, smiling to himself. This Arlington housewife was not only a beautiful woman, she could very well be his guardian angel. As long as she listened to that little voice. He had a feeling she would.

The End

BACK TO RITA’S PAGE