It had taken Lee almost two hours of fighting the typewriter and half a bottle of whiteout before he’d finished his paperwork. Now he’d have to hurry, or he’d be late picking up Amanda. He raced home to shower and change.  Dressed in his blue blazer and gray slacks, he hopped in the ‘Vette and sped through the evening traffic to Arlington.

He knew that her family was away. The boys had left two days ago for a week in Florida with their father, and Dotty had taken the opportunity to visit her sister in Vermont. He wasn’t exactly sure which sister it was. It didn’t really matter to him. They were all away, and that meant there were three less people to horn in on his time with Amanda. If only work would be as cooperative. He parked his car in front of her home, thrilled with the opportunity to knock on the front door like a normal visitor. Amanda didn't answer his knock, so he made his way to the backyard.

Peering into the kitchen window didn't help any. He still couldn’t see her. She was probably still upstairs getting ready. He’d just let himself in and wait for her to come down.

He called up the stairs, letting her know he was there. Making himself at home,
he poured a glass of milk and went to sit on the sofa. He stopped dead in his tracks, the glass halfway to his lips.

Amanda was asleep on the couch, clutching her handbag. He padded over
and gently touched her arm. The brief contact was enough to startle her awake.

"Lee, what are you doing here?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. I thought we made plans for this evening."

"We did. I don't know what happened. I planned to sit here a few minutes before getting ready. I must have dozed off. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be ready to go."

"We don't have to go out, you know. We can just stay home and watch TV. I really just want to spend time with you.

"That's sweet. I would rather we didn't go out. I feel sort of yucky."

His disappointment quickly turned to concern. "Yucky?"

”Yucky. My throat's sore, my nose is stuffed up, and I have a monster headache.”

Lee caressed her forehead and frowned, then replaced his fingers with his lips. “You’re hot!"

"Thanks, big guy. I think you’re pretty hot, too."

He laughed. "No, I mean you have a fever. I vaguely remember my mother could tell I was sick simply by kissing my forehead, and you know, it works. You feel hot to me."

"I don't think I have a fever." Amanda stood and swayed a bit.

"Amanda, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, I’m just a little dizzy. I guess I stood up too fast."

"No, you're coming down with something."

"Impossible. Mothers don't get sick. It’s on page three of the mommy handbook."

"Okay, you're not sick. Just humor me. Where do you keep your thermometer?"

"In the upstairs bathroom medicine cabinet, top right, third shelf."

He settled her more comfortably on the couch, and then raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Grabbing the thermometer, he rummaged through the medicine cabinet for something to ease her headache. He couldn’t find anything and dashed back down to her, clutching the thermometer.

"Sorry it took so long, but I was looking for something you could take for your headache."

"You weren't gone long. I don't know why you’re making a big deal out of this. It’s nothing."

"Let me be the judge of that.” Lee slid the thermometer between Amanda’s lips.  After three minutes, he took it to the window so the light would enable him to read the thin mercury line.

Twisting the thermometer to get a better look, he frowned. "You have a temperature of one-hundred three degrees. I’d say that qualifies as a fever. No wonder you have a headache."

She huffed out a breath. "Let me see that. Are you sure you’re reading it right?"

"Amanda, I am a highly trained agent, able to disarm a nuclear bomb with a mere Bomber's pin. I think I can read a simple mercury thermometer." He realized he sounded harsh and softened his words with a wink and a smile.

"You’re right, I’m sorry."

"Let’s get you upstairs and into bed." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Nice try, buster."

"Hey, I’m serious. You’re sick and you should be in bed. And as the senior agent, I have the final say, so up you go." He pulled her off the couch, swung her into his arms, and carried her up the stairs to her bedroom. "Now, let's get you changed. Where’s your nightgown?" He set her back on her feet so he could search out her things.

"Lee, I don't want to change clothes. I don't want to go to bed. I am not sick."

As she swayed again, he grabbed her around the waist. Smirking, he gently pushed her onto the bed. "I rest my case."

“All right, you win. I’ll go change.” She sighed and went into the bathroom.
After a few minutes, she came out of the bathroom, wearing her nightclothes. He turned down the covers and helped her into bed. “I’m going to run to the store and pick up a few things for you.”

"It’s not necessary, Lee. All I need is a good night’s rest. I’ll be okay in the morning."

"I know it's not necessary, but you've done no less for me. Let me do this for you." He smiled as she nodded. Pulling the covers up to her chin, he placed a kiss on her nose and left on his errand.

He made it to the drugstore in record time. It took almost twenty minutes to pick out what he wanted. He had no idea there were so many different products to choose from. “This is why I stick with brandy.” The jingle of a commercial popped into his head. With a snap of his fingers, he scoured the shelves, looking for the product. “What was it called again? Night something or other . . . Ah ha! There you are.” He picked up the bottle, along with some throat lozenges, cold tablets, and ibuprofen.  Just in case this Nyquil was the wrong thing. During the drive back to her house, his stomach growled, reminding him that he’d skipped lunch. He tried to remember the old adage--starve a cold and feed a fever, or was it the other way around? It didn’t matter how it went. Amanda had both, so food seemed like a good idea. He detoured to his apartment and rummaged through his freezer for the container of homemade soup she had given him.

The bag of videotapes he was supposed to return caught his eye. They were overdue already, so another day or two wouldn't matter. He snagged the bag and headed back to 4247 Maplewood Drive.

After letting himself in, he tiptoed upstairs to check on his patient. Pleased to find her sleeping, he tucked the covers around her and silently shut the door halfway. He wanted to hear her if she called for him.

He briefly thought about leaving, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. She wouldn't leave him if the situation were reversed. He heated up some of the soup for himself and made a couple of sandwiches from the cold cuts in her refrigerator. After he’d cleaned up his mess, he picked up the newspaper and settled on the sofa in the family room.

He had just finished reading the sports page when the creaking from the floor above let him know Amanda was awake. Thinking she might be hungry, he fixed up a tray with soup, crackers, and a cup of hot tea.

Precariously balancing the tray to keep the soup from sloshing, he kept his eyes down, watching his steps. He didn't notice her until he bumped the tray into her, almost upending its contents.

"What are you doing out of bed?" He spied the hint of lace peeking out from the collar of her bathrobe and briefly wondered if she was wearing that same sexy white nightgown she’d worn when he’d snuck into her room during the case with Red February and Allen Chamberlain. He really hadn’t gotten a good look at it when she came out of the bathroom before. His mind had been centered on getting her settled, not what she was wearing.

"I can't stay in bed. It's just not me."

"You're sick. You need to rest, and you need to do that in bed."

"I thought we could sit in the family room and maybe watch some television. I can rest on the couch."

He pretended to think about it for a moment. "Okay, but on one condition. Promise me you'll eat every bit of this soup."

"You have yourself a deal."

They moved into the family room, and when Amanda settled on the couch, he placed the tray over her lap.   He popped in one of the videos and let the previews play out, giving her time to finish eating and him time to bring the dishes back to the kitchen. He came back in just as the opening credits appeared.

Her smile was radiant when she saw the movie he’d selected. "Oh, Lee, ‘North by Northwest.’  I love this movie."

"I know. That's why I chose it. Danger. Excitement. Intrigue."

He made himself comfortable, slipped off his shoes, and placed his left arm along the back of the couch, lightly resting his hand on Amanda’s shoulder. Soon they both became engrossed in the plot line. She laid her head on his shoulder, and he held her a little closer.

Halfway through the movie, Lee noticed Amanda had fallen asleep. He covered her with the afghan she kept on the back of the couch. "You just rest," he whispered, as she snuggled closer to him. Content, he turned his attention back to the movie, but soon his eyes drifted shut.

He was jerked back to consciousness by the shrill tone of the test pattern on the television. The movie had ended and rewound itself. Sleeping next to Amanda was something he’d only dreamed about. He hated to wake her and go back to his lonely apartment.

But she would never forgive him if he spent the night. "Amanda," he gently called her, sliding his arm off her shoulder. "Amanda, I better leave."
She stirred once and snuggled deeper into his embrace. "Don't go. Stay with me, Lee."

Stay with me. Music to his ears.  But he knew she didn’t mean it that way. Not yet, anyway. "Come on, Amanda, let's get you into bed." Lifting her in his arms, he stood and carried her upstairs. Once again, he tucked her in and kissed her. “Pleasant dreams. I'll call you in the morning."

"Please, Lee, don't go.”

He’d never said no to her for anything. Well, not anything important anyway. He wasn't about to start now. “Okay, I’ll stay. Just call if you need anything.”

He kissed her again and walked to the door. 

“Lee?” 

“Yeah?” “I need you here. Not downstairs.” 

Her pleading tone tugged at him. ”Sure. Just let me go down and make sure everything’s locked up.”

Systematically, he worked his way around the first floor, checking the windows to make sure they were secure. The normalcy of the act thrilled him. He was ensuring the safety of someone important to him. His family.

Peering out the family room window, he spotted his car parked out front. Amanda was always careful not to give the neighborhood gossips anything to talk about, and his car out front all night would surely add grist to the mill. He slipped his shoes back on and moved the ‘Vette a few blocks over.

After picking his way through her neighbor’s yards, he let himself in the back door and made his way in the dark up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom. She was sleeping. That was good. She needed rest.

Silently, he dragged the overstuffed chair over to the end of her bed and sat down. Stretching out his legs, he propped his feet on the bottom of the bed and began his vigil. His eyes were glued to her sleeping form, watching the rise and fall of her chest with each breath she took. It was hypnotic, and he found that his breathing matched hers. Soon he was fast asleep.

For the second time that night, he woke up to a disturbing sound. This time it was his feet hitting the floor. He hoped the thud hadn’t wakened Amanda. She stirred a little but settled down again. 

“I’m sorry, Manda,” he whispered and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard her reply. 

“It’s all right. I wasn’t sleeping anyway. What happened?”

“I sat in the chair with my feet propped on the end of the bed, and I guess they sort of fell off.”

“What were you doing in the chair? You can’t spend all night there. It’s too small for you, and you’ll end up with a crick in your neck. The bed is big enough for the both of us.” She pulled the covers over to one side. ”Now get in here and get some sleep.”

“A-man-da, I can’t sleep with you.”

“What’s the matter, Lee? Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you. We’re partners.”

“If you’re worried about catching my cold, it’s too late now. We’ve been together all night.” 

“I’m not worried about getting your cold.” Truthfully, he’d never thought about that until she brought it up. Oh, well, nothing he could do about it now.

 “So then, there’s no problem. Come on, Lee. You need your rest, and I won’t be able to get any sleep knowing you’re sleeping in that chair all night. You’re the one who said I needed rest. Now come on, get into bed. There’s plenty of room for the both of us.”  She patted the empty space next to her.

“All right, you win. But only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

He stood and pushed the chair back into the corner. Halfway to the bed, he detoured to her dresser and emptied his pockets, tossing his wallet, keys and change on top. He loved the way his stuff looked mingled with hers and wished that it could always be that way. 

Carefully, he slid into bed next to her and draped his arm over her waist, and she turned into him. Pulling her closer to his side, he kissed the top of her head and hung on. "Sleep well, my Amanda,” he muttered, right before he succumbed to slumber, with a smile on his face and Amanda in his arms.


End