CONCLUSION

"No 'buts' about it," he stated firmly.

"Fine," she sighed. She was too tired to argue. "If you want to know so badly, I'll tell you. It's a reminder that I failed at marriage - yeah, I know I had some help there - but I felt it was a failure on my part. I've had only a handful of relationships since then. One of whom, Deeeean," she drew his name out, holding up a finger, "wanted to marry me. But did I marry him? Noooo."

"Did you want to marry Dean?" Lee asked. He was horrified that she might be regretting having not married that buffoon.

"No," she said emphatically. "But, I'm not married, am I?"

She paused and looked at Lee as if she had proven some vital point. When he simply stared at her, she drew her knees up to her chest in a self-protective gesture and went on.

"Don't you see? I haven't had a successful romantic relationship with a man since Jack, and who knows how that would have turned out? I always thought I'd remarry, you know?"

"Amanda," Lee said her name again for lack of anything else to say.

"No, it's true. I'm not marriage material," she said quietly.

"That's not true," he insisted. "It's just that very few men could ever hope to be worthy of you."

Amanda looked down, embarrassed by the sincerity in his voice. After a pause, she looked at him. Her face was so close to his, he could almost…

"That's a very sweet thing for you to say…"

"It's true," he said firmly, leaning closer. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"Lee?" she whispered.

Startled, he backed away again. "Yes?" he asked huskily, dragging his hand roughly across lips that had been *this* close to touching hers. Her breath had kissed his lips, causing him to shiver slightly.

"You're a man," she stated the obvious. "Is there anything…wrong with me? I mean, do I talk too much? Well, yeah, I do. But besides that. Do I look all right? I know I'm not your type, but in general. What about my hair? Do I dress okay? I know I'm no fashion queen…"

He interrupted her rambling. "Hey! Stop it, Amanda," he said, placing a finger on her lips. He let it linger there, wanting to trace her lips and then…

She looked up at him questioningly, her trust for him evident in her eyes. He could so easily be drawn into their depths. This amazing woman was sitting here asking him what was wrong with her. There was nothing wrong with her; she was perfect.

"Amanda," he said gently. "This doesn't sound like you. You know better than all this. There is nothing whatsoever wrong with you. Any man who doesn't want to be near you is a fool."

"You didn't used to want to be near me," she reminded him, still gazing into his eyes. Her hand had strayed to his chest, and she absently drew tiny circles with her finger.

"I was a fool," he said softly, staring at her lips. His heart fluttered at the sensation of her hand on his chest.

She didn't hear the undertone in his words. She shook her head and ran a hand through her tangled locks.

"Where's my brush?" she asked, looking around. "I had it here earlier."

"Amanda, don't change the subject," he told her gently.

"I'm not. I'm just looking for my brush," she said, a bit defensively. Suddenly she remembered how she had been crying over Lee, in addition to Jack and her failed marriage to Joe. And now here he was, inches away.

"Why are you here, anyway?" she asked him, feeling self-conscious and backing away just a little. Sometimes she could almost forget that he didn't return her feelings.

"Hey, look, I found your brush!" he said, changing the subject.

"*You're* changing the subject now," she accused. "Give it to me." She reached for the brush.

"No." Lee held the brush out of her reach. "Let me."

She frowned, then as she realized what he wanted, she laughed. "No!"

She leaned over him, reaching for the brush. Enjoying the contact, he held it further away, out of her grasp.

"Why not?" he asked, circling her waist with his arm.

For a moment, she hesitated. Their faces were so close. She stared into his eyes, wishing she had the courage to kiss him. Her torso pressed against his, she could feel his heart beating rapidly in tandem with her own.

"Lee," she whispered, trying to disengage herself from his embrace. "Give me the brush."

"I said, let me," he repeated, tightening his hold.

Silently, she nodded. "Okay," she breathed against his lips.

Grasping her around her waist, he reluctantly hoisted her off his torso and turned her around so that her back was to him and began brushing her hair. She attempted to face him again, but he held her in place until she sat still.

"I came over to apologize," he told her as he ran the brush through her hair. It was much easier to talk to her without looking into her eyes. After each stroke, he ran his hand over her glossy hair, relishing in the new intimacy. He had never brushed a woman's hair before.

"Apologize? For what?" she asked. She leaned her head back, relaxing under his hand.

"For ruining your vacation," he admitted.

"I shouldn't have gotten so upset. You didn't know the assignment would get canceled…" she began.

"I made it up," he said in a rush.

"Huh?" She tried to turn around, but he grasped her shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, Amanda," he told her contritely. "If I had known…"

"But why?" she asked.

When he didn't answer, she turned around to face him and this time he didn't try to stop her.

"Lee, why would you do that?" she asked again.

He was studiously looking down at the brush in his hands, avoiding her eyes. She tilted his chin so that he had to look at her, a gesture he'd used on her from time to time.

What she saw in his eyes made her slowly draw her hand away from his face, but he caught it and held it between his two. Slowly, he lifted his eyes and looked straight into hers.

"You're not the only one who feels like a failure when it comes to relationships," he confided.

He was looking at her so intensely, she had to wonder if she was imagining it. No man, not even Joe, had looked at her in this manner. She wondered if the alcohol was doing this to her. Yes, that must be it!

"Look, I'm sorry, Lee. I didn't mean to drop all this on you. I was just feeling sorry for myself tonight, and…"

"Amanda," he quietly spoke her name.

"Yes?"

"Just…I was trying to say that we have a lot in common. I mean, I feel that way for different reasons, but essentially, we both feel the same way. I kind of think that rather than the problem being with us, the problem is that we haven't found the right one, yet. Or that we haven't *realized* the right one, yet."

"Well, yeah, I mean obviously…" she interrupted again.

Once again, Lee placed a gentle finger on her lips and smiled ruefully. "Amanda, hush."

Amanda's heart stopped. Feeling Lee's finger upon her lips again, it was all she could do not to kiss it. She took a deep shuddering breath and said, "I'm sorry."

Lee felt her tremble and saw the confusion in her eyes. As always, he was fascinated by the myriad of emotions he could see run across her face. Tonight he saw an emotion he'd never before seen, but had desperately hoped to. They both froze for a moment. Then Lee cleared his throat. "What I'm trying to say, is…well, I mean…"

"What is it, Lee?"

He stared into her brown eyes flecked with copper. She stared at him, searching his hazel depths.

"Amanda. I meant what I said. A man would have to be a fool not to see you for what you are."

"What am I?" The question was barely breathed.

"A remarkable, brave, beautiful, giving woman," he said sincerely.

Amanda scarcely allowed herself to hope. "You're a good friend, Lee."

"A good friend?" He looked chagrined. "Not exactly."

She frowned slightly, her eyebrows drawing together. He was repeating what she'd said to him after the Sacker case. They'd nearly kissed in the swamp. Afterward, she'd brought it up and he'd given her the old song and dance about two cold people. And she'd said, 'Not exactly.'

"No?" She looked into his eyes, trying to read them. Trying to see his soul.

"No."

"I thought…"

"Shhh," he admonished her. He could feel her hands suddenly shaking in his and squeezed them. "Amanda, close your eyes."

He wanted to kiss her; he was dying to kiss her, but he needed for her not to be watching him, searching his face for clues as to what he was feeling.

Amanda's brow furrowed slightly again, but she complied.

Here it was, there was no turning back, now. He cupped her face in his hands and felt her shiver. Leaning towards her, Lee tasted her lips. Lee had always felt a thrill kissing her for cover, even early on. But none of those times could compare to now.

Not stopping at one tender caress, Lee captured her lips again and was pleased at her response. Her arms went up around his neck and he held her close. She was so soft, yet demanding in her own way. They deepened the kiss, reveling in the sensations it produced.

When they broke apart simultaneously, they were both out of breath. They stared at each other for a long moment.

"That's why I told you we had a stakeout," he said simply.

"Stakeout, right," Amanda murmured.

Lee smiled in amazement. He'd finally done it, taken the first step. "Wow," he said.

"Yeah, wow," she repeated.

"Amanda," he began. She cut him off with another kiss, taking possession of his lips. His hands found their way around her waist and he pulled her onto his lap.

When the kiss ended, Amanda rested her head on his shoulder, her arm around his neck. He held her close, loving the feel of her being so close to him.

"I've been wanting to do that for a long time, Amanda," he told her.

"How long?" she asked dreamily.

"Long," he told her simply. "You nearly drive me crazy every day."

"I drive you crazy?" she repeated, pleased.

"You have no idea," he confirmed. "I've been afraid to say anything. I didn't want to ruin what we had, which was a wonderful partnership and friendship. I even dated Leslie because in a way, she reminded me of you," he laughed slightly. "But it didn't work. Since then, I haven't even had a date. I just think of you all the time. Amanda, you and I have this incredible connection. It amazes me. And I don't want to be without that, ever."

He waited anxiously for her equally fervent and honest disclosure, for her to acknowledge their special bond. She said nothing, but snored softly into his neck. Lee smiled and lifted her easily, carrying her upstairs. He laid her in bed and covered her with the blankets. He kissed her forehead, then went downstairs and into the kitchen, letting himself out the back door.

The next morning, Amanda woke up with a headache. She padded into the bathroom and looked into the mirror.

"Ugh!" she exclaimed.

Brushing her teeth, she wondered how she had gotten to bed. 'I don't remember coming upstairs,' she mused.

She looked at herself and smiled. 'What a dream I had, though.' A very pleasant dream, she recalled. Lee had come over and…

Or had he really been here? She had a vague recollection of him cleaning up a broken wine bottle.

There was one way to find out. If there was a evidence of a broken bottle, she'd know he'd cleaned it up. There was no way she could have done so effectively last night.

As she showered, she recalled the other details of the dream. They seemed so vivid. She'd dreamed about Lee before, but she never been able to recall the dreams with such clarity. But it had to be a dream. Otherwise, he would have been disgusted with her!

She dressed and headed downstairs, certain that she'd dreamed it all. But in the trash can were shards of shattered green glass and wine-soaked paper towels.

"Oh, no…" she moaned.

How much of what she remembered was real and how much was a dream she'd made up after Lee left? Stepping into the family room, she spotted the two coffee cups and the photo albums still littering the coffee table and couch.

With startling reality, she could feel Lee's lips on hers, hear him whispering in her ear. He must have carried her upstairs and put her to…bed.

Groaning, Amanda went back into the kitchen and dumped the remnants of last night's coffee and started another pot. 'Think, Amanda, think!' she admonished herself.

Shaking her head, she snapped out of her daydream. 'This is Lee we're talking about,' she told herself. It had to have been a dream; there was no other explanation.

Maybe he'd come by and found her drunk, having made a mess in the kitchen. He must have fixed her coffee and cleaned up her mess, then put her in bed like a good partner and friend.

The rest she dreamed. Well, she could live with that, she supposed. As long as the dreams were so realistic.

A soft knock sounded at her back door, and she smiled. Heading over, she saw Lee grinning on her doorstep, most likely dying to tease her about her overindulgence.

She opened the door with a smile. "Good morning," she greeted him, somewhat embarrassed.

"Good morning to you," he said huskily.

She was surprised by the tone of his voice and the look in his eye, but figured it must be her imagination again. As she turned to walk away from him, he grabbed her and spun her around, pinning her body to his. She gasped, but immediately her mouth was covered by his and his lips were claiming hers with fierce possessiveness.

'Nope, not a dream,' she said happily to herself as she surrendered to his kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck.

The End