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Disclaimer: The characters of “Scarecrow and Mrs. King” do not belong to me. They do belong to Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon productions. The plot contained here in is mine and mine alone.
Amanda Stetson stood before her dresser, pulling clothes out of the bottom drawer. She drew forth first black jeans, then a black turtleneck sweatshirt. She dressed quickly, adding sturdy hiking boots to the ensemble. Her hair went into a practical ponytail. Before slipping on her light windbreaker, she slid a brown leather holster onto her shoulders. After checking for her family, she unlocked the safe concealed next to her bed inside the nightstand. She checked her weapon for safety then loaded the ammo she removed from the safe as well. The alarm clock next to her rang. 7pm. Time to meet her partner. She walked briskly downstairs, calling to her boys as she went. “Phillip, Jamie! Com’ere a minute.”

“Yes, Mom?” The two teenagers skidded to a halt before their mother.

Amanda ran her hands briefly over their shoulders. She smiled and began to talk. “I’m going to be late again tonight. You guys got your homework ready for school in the morning?”

“Yes, ma’am. Mom, what are you doing tonight?” Phillip asked after exchanging worried looks with his brother. Their mother had been kind of weird lately. Their grandmother had said it was to be expected and not to worry too much, but they weren’t sure.

“Aw fellas, don’t worry. This is routine. I’ll be in the editing room for most of the night then probably in the viewing room for the rest.” Amanda pulled them forward for a brief hug. They wouldn’t tolerate much more than that at this stage of their adolescence. But that was probably for the best as well.

The boys raced up the stairs for another round of video games and Amanda reached for the doorknob, but not quickly enough.

“Amanda, wait.” Dotty leaned against the door watching her daughter.

Amanda slumped imperceptibly. She sighed softly then turned to face her mother. No matter what, it never got any easier to lie to her mother. “Yes, Mother?”

“Dear, where are you off to tonight?” The blond crossed her arms in front of her body and waited on an answer. Her manner clearly indicated that she expected another of Amanda’s convoluted answers.

“Just to the office. Editing night.” Amanda shrugged nonchalantly.

“Of course, editing night.” Dotty was unconvinced but said nothing. She would have thought that her daughter would ask for a little slack, considering everything, but no she just worked harder.

“Good night, Mother.” Amanda opened the door and started to leave without any further comment. She reconsidered and turned to embrace her mother briefly. She murmured, without looking the older woman in the face, “I love you.” The door slammed and Amanda was gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As she pulled out of the driveway, she missed her mother’s worried countenance peering out the family room window. Dotty shook her head, slowly. She had always worried about Amanda. That’s what mothers do. They worry. But lately, it seemed she was destined to worry more so than others. Amanda kept strange hours. She had for several years, but now the strange hours were accompanied by late night trips to and from the house. She had even left for two whole weeks, right after the accident. She had assured Dotty that all was well with her life but somehow Dotty knew better.

The bruises and frequent ER trips had told her there was a problem. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought that her daughter had a death wish. She just seemed to attract accidents like a magnet did metal. She’d had two car wrecks, been mugged twice and had fallen on the stairs at work three times in the last eight weeks. She’d had more bruises than both of her overactive boys put together. When she left like this, for editing or on a filming assignment, Dotty didn’t know whether to pray for her quick return or to just pray she would return period.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Across town, Francine Desmond also dressed for tonight’s activities. She dressed similarly, yet totally different from Amanda. Her black jeans were designer originals. Her black sweater, the finest cashmere. Her boots, genuine Italian leather. She left her blonde hair loose and carried her weapon, as usual, in her purse. She thought about the last few days work and knew that this was the culmination of a lot of effort on the part of many departments. She spotted the clock on the wall reflected in her mirror, put on one last touch of lip-gloss and left for the meet downtown.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The dark, empty Marshmallow man warehouse had been deserted since the last Agency invasion of its premises. The business had suffered in light of the bad press and it had closed its doors on the DC branch of the retail business. For several months, it had been boarded up and left alone. But for three weeks now, the Agency had been watching the traffic in and around the building, as there had been an anonymous tip that they were to be given something of great value if they did so.

For many shifts, agents had staked out the property. Soon, they were rewarded for their diligence by the sightings of two known political antagonists, not exactly bad men, but certainly not good. The pair of men, the Dougan brothers, would pretty much run with whatever pack was paying the highest at that moment. For the last several months they had been on the payroll of one Phillip Marsh. Now, he was definitely a bad man. He had been selling government secrets to the highest bidder for years. How he got his secrets was unknown. There had been many theories and tons of wild speculation. No one knew for sure. What was known was that Marsh and the Dougans had been meeting here for weeks and Melrose had decided that now was the time to take them down. He wasn’t sure why, he just knew what his gut told him. Take this down now, and take it without killing the men. They had information, and he wanted it. Whatever it was…

Melrose waited at the gates to the warehouse as his team assembled before him. He deployed two, Johnson and Smith, to the back. He and his newest recruit, James, would take the front while the rest of the team, including his star pairing, covered the parking lot to prevent any runners from making it past the perimeter. With words of caution to all concerned parties, the section chief called the strike and they advanced on the target, weapons drawn.

Three minutes later, gunfire was heard and men began to break from the cover of the warehouse in an effort to escape. Amanda and her partner waited under the cover of a nearby car door and soon separated to apprehend two fleeing suspects.

Amanda had hers in custody rather quickly as he had slipped on an oily patch and went down in a heap at her feet. She cuffed him and turned to see how her partner was faring. The tall agent had one man in tow and couldn’t see the other man slipping up on them from behind.

The elder Dougan brother raised his hand to strike the agent on the back of the head. Just before his hand fell, Amanda found her voice and called a warning to her partner.

She raised her gun and prepared to fire as she yelled, “Francine, get down!” Her partner ducked, and Amanda fired without hesitation.

The oldest Dougan, William, fell to the pavement from the single shot to the head as Francine rolled away, with her prisoner still attached. She rose quickly, glanced to the dead man then her partner. She shook her head with wonder once again. This was the second time this month that Amanda had saved her ass and without even blinking at the methods she had used to do it. Francine dragged her shocked perpetrator to his feet and turned him over to the approaching Agency guards. She walked over to the now slightly shaken Amanda and touched her on the shoulder. That was her first mistake. Amanda pulled away rather violently and raised a warning hand to the blonde woman. Francine began to speak in a cautious tone and made her second mistake, “Amanda, thank you. I mean, I know we’ve been working together for some time now and that you have really done a great job. I want to tell you that I’m proud to be your partner and that I know now, why Lee was so proud of you, as well. You’re a great agent and …” Francine’s voice faltered as she saw the cold look Amanda was aiming her way.

“Francine, just stop it. I don’t want to hear it anymore than you want to say it. We both know that I will never be the agent that Lee was. If I had been, I might have saved him. But instead, I froze. I couldn’t fire that gun and I couldn’t keep Lee from dying in that fire.” Amanda glared at her new partner. She waited for the space of two heartbeats then swiveled on her feet and left the gaping Francine behind.

TBC
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