"Leatherneck?" Amanda jerked her arms, wincing when the cords chafed
her wrists. Where was that man? She knew the trick to it--she'd done
it before, but this time, she couldn't shrug herself loose.
Just one more little test before the long weekend, Mrs. King. How
tough can it be?
Famous last words. If she could get her hands on him, they might be
Leatherneck's last words, too. Of course, roped to a chair, her
options for sweet revenge were limited.
She'd done everything right; she was sure of it. That slight turn of
the wrists to allow some slack against the knots, tightening her
muscles at just the right moment, every action subtle and precise--
escape guaranteed in sixty seconds or less. Textbook.
This situation was humiliating.
When he promised to come back in a minute, she expected one minute,
not thirty. The ticking of the office clock only added to her
frustration. It was five o'clock--quitting time. What if he'd already
left? What if he forgot?
Before worry could evolve into full-blown panic, footsteps echoed
down the hallway. As much as she hated to admit defeat, spending the
evening tied to a hard wooden chair would be unpleasant, and waiting
for Lee to realize she was missing was not a viable option.
"Hello?" The footsteps stopped. "Help!"
A gentle breeze caressed the back of her neck as the door swung open
behind her. Relief wrestled with embarrassment as she tried to scoot
the chair around to see who was there. She could only hope it wasn't
Francine. She'd never live it down.
Someone caressed her shoulders, and warm breath tickled the top of
her head. It had better not be Francine. "Lee, is that you?" She
tilted her head back and gazed up at his chin. "It better be you. Not
enough razor stubble for Leatherneck, and way too much for Francine."
"You've never seen Francine after a long stakeout." Lee's hands left
her shoulders. He strolled over to his desk and perched on the edge,
facing her. Folding his arms across his chest, his gaze traveled from
the top of her head, to the tips of her shoes, and back again. An
annoying, self-satisfied, little smirk tugged at the corner of his
mouth, and Amanda knew she was in trouble.
"Look . . . well . . . um . . . would you mind untying me?
Leatherneck was here, for training, and . . . well, he didn't come
back, and it's after five o'clock . . . and I can't seem to get these
off." She observed his expression with a sinking heart. He wouldn't.
Would he?
"Lee, what are you doing?"
"Watching."
Not good. Not good at all. "Watching what?"
"You."
"Lee, this isn't funny. Get over here right now and untie my hands."
If her heart fell any further, she'd have to scrape it up off the
floor. Of course, she needed her hands to do that. Summoning her most
ferocious glare, she tried to intimidate him.
She tried to out-stare him.
She was willing to beg.
"Please? Oh, come on . . . just because I'm better than you with the
cuffs is no reason . . ."
She held her breath as he sauntered over and stood beside the
chair. "Hmm . . . master-class escape artist, huh? Let's see, what do
we have here? Ah, foiled by the old kellick hitch," he whispered in
her ear. "Some things never change. I bet you can't get loose without
my help."
The man was insufferable. Amanda's fingers itched to settle around
his throat and squeeze, but she held her breath and counted to ten,
waiting for Lee to finish his game.
"If I cut you loose, what do I get out of it?" he asked.
He'd get a black eye, if only she could reach him. Amanda yanked at
the ropes, wincing when they tightened even further. "Ouch."
Lee's startled gasp was music to her ears. As a look of concern
replaced his smirk, she decided her prospects were looking up. Yep,
he was caving in under the pressure. Now, if she could just get her
hands on him.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize. Wait a minute--I'll get it."
His fingers fumbled at her wrists, and, after a few sharp tugs, she
was free. He bent down to untie her ankles, and she smiled at the top
of his head.
He struggled with the knots. "You know, you still have to pay up.
Let's see, I'll start with dinner, hmmm . . . and then after
dinner . . . "
She could tell by the tone of his voice that the smirk was back.
Focused on the job at hand, he couldn't see her reach into her pocket
and didn't react to the delicate clink of metal against metal. She
waited patiently, until the last coil of rope fell away--timing was
the key. She hadn't only practiced with the ropes, today.
Lee touched both hands to the floor to push himself up. Before he
could build any momentum, two loud snicks broke the silence, and
Amanda popped out of the chair and darted across the room.
She smiled from behind her desk. "Betcha can't get loose before I
make it to the door."
"What the . . ." He tried to stand, but the handcuffs pulled him up
short. He started to drag the chair along the floor toward her
desk. "A-man-da, get over here and undo these. I don't have my double
diamond with me." His expression changed from annoyance to pleading,
but she wasn't buying it. The cold calculation in his eyes gave him
away.
"Please?" It was that voice again--his soft, deep, sexy voice. It
never failed to send a thrill up her spine.
Now he was playing dirty, trying his best to manipulate her, and she
wasn't about to give in. Nope, not again. But his big, soft hazel
eyes bored directly into her soul, and she started to waver. She
took a half step toward him, and he graced her with that sweet,
angelic smile.
Uh-huh. Not this time. This time, she would be strong. Death
before dishonor.
Shaking her head, she backed up and eased around her desk, keeping it
between them. It wasn't much, but it was all the protection she
had. Edging along the wall, her gaze darted between Lee and the
door. It served the man right. He could just hide in the Q Bureau for
a while, unless he wanted to carry the chair around the Agency. She'd
let him suffer a bit, then let him loose.
Those eyes took on a dangerous glint, and she stared at the door,
estimating her chances. "You'll never make it. You know you won't.
Come on, Amanda, enough is enough--game over." His tone was dark and
thick.
It was now or never. She raced to the door and almost overshot it as
she skidded to a stop. Flinging it wide, she sailed through--a
heartbeat before Lee. She' d made it, she . . .
. . . slammed into a solid, T-shirt-clad, brick wall.
Amanda blinked and tried to stop the unwelcome, embarrassed grin from
spreading across her face. As she pushed herself away from
Leatherneck's broad chest, the heat rose in her cheeks.
"Um . . . sorry, I . . . well . . ." The right words were miles away,
and she wished she was with them. Leatherneck's startled gaze fixed
on a point over her left shoulder, and she turned to follow it.
The tableau was priceless--Lee frozen in mid-leap, just inside the
doorway, a heavy wooden chair clasped under his arm, his face
contorted into a murderous grimace. From her safe harbor beside
Leatherneck, she smiled at him.
Leatherneck took one step back--leaving Amanda standing alone--his
arms outstretched in a conciliatory gesture. "Mrs. K., I . . .
ah . . . just came back to see if you were okay. Dr. Smyth dragged
me out to check his carburetor, and I . . . ah . . . kinda lost track
of time." He took another step backwards. "Yeah, well, I see that
everything's fine here, so I'll . . . um . . . just be on my way.
Don't worry, Lee. I see no evil, hear no evil. I know the drill by
now." He spun on his heel and fled.
Amanda stared at his back until he disappeared down the stairs, and
then turned to face Lee. "Um . . . hi."
He placed the chair back on the floor and sat down, never breaking
eye contact.
Maybe it was time to end the game. She walked back into the Q-Bureau,
pulling the door closed behind her and flipping the lock. "I guess
you think I owe you now, huh?"
He was silent as she walked the remaining distance and stood beside
him. He said nothing when she fished the keys out of her pocket. Not
a word was spoken while she unlocked the handcuffs.
With a sudden jerk, he yanked Amanda off her feet and over his knees.
She squealed and kicked, but Lee's firm hand on the small of her back
held her in place.
"You wouldn't dare!" He wouldn't. Or would he? She turned her head
sideways and glared at him, noting the devilish gleam in his eyes. Uh-
oh.
"Try it, buster, and all bets are off."
"Wanna bet?" His hand hovered closer . . . closer . . .
The End
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: SMK and its characters are copyrighted creations. This story was conceived and written for entertainment purposes. No copyright infringement is intended.
Timeframe: Late 4th season.
Timeframe: Late 4th season.