Spy Boy
October 6, 1989…
It was four o’clock, and a Friday in the Q Bureau. As usual, Lee had managed to get Amanda to type up his report that afternoon…in triplicate, no less, and he was just putting the finishing touches on it. Not only was she a good partner in the field, she was a true asset in the office, and did he have to mention the fun they had in bed? Well, if he started thinking like that, Billy wouldn’t get his report.
Lee just had to sign the affidavit part, get Amanda to sign as witness, date the pages, and read it over. He could hand write in anything he’d forgotten earlier. At least it was all there, that was what counted.
He looked over at Amanda, who looked up and smiled at him, then looked down again at whatever she was reading. He smiled back and continued going through the report.
On Lee’s desk was an unread copy of Spy Girl, a suited picture of himself gazing at the ceiling from the cover. He hadn’t bothered to read it. After all, he’d been there for the shoot, he knew what had gone on, and he certainly didn’t care to find out who else was in the running for Spymate of the Year. Actually, it didn’t matter. The fact that he was on the cover meant that he was THE Spymate for 1989.
Amanda had actually started the whole thing. She thought it would be a great joke on him if he came in as a runner up and got a little photo in there along with a paragraph of his home life with her. He had just laughed at the notion of winning. Let her have her fun, he’d told himself.
However, in his upper right-hand desk drawer, there was a well thumbed-through copy of Spy Boy. Lee’s retaliation had been to push for his wife as Spymate of the year. She’d swatted his arm. She wasn’t one for porn. He’d gone on to explain that it was art, not porn.
Well, Amanda hadn’t made the cover of Spy Boy, to Lee’s disappointment. But she WAS a runner up, and they’d done a little picture of her and a paragraph of her home life. She had pouted momentarily, but he didn’t think she was very upset at not winning. She was more surprised that they picked her at all as a runner-up spymate. Of course, in her little article, they also cross-referenced to Lee’s centerfold in their other publication.
“Lee, look at this,” Amanda said, drawing his attention with a somewhat outraged tone of voice.
“What is it?” he asked as she came over and showed him his article in Spy Girl.
“Well, look!” Amanda said, pointing to the centerfold picture.
“What?” Lee asked, still seeing nothing wrong. The picture was of him, and he had liberty to wear as much clothing, or not, as he wanted to. The centerfold picture showed him sitting on a wooden stool, one leg bent on the lower perch, the other straight down to the ground. He wore nothing but his watch, a tie, and a towel over his groin area.
“You’re practically naked, that’s what,” came Amanda’s gripe.
“Don’t you like me that way?” Lee teased her; “This was your idea, as I recall.”
“Sure, but look, real good, at the, uh, center, um, of the centerfold,” Amanda said, pointing to his groin in the picture, “I waded through the rest of the magazine first, because I was saving…you…as the reward. But look…”
“So what? There’s a towel there,” Lee shrugged.
“Look…more,” Amanda insisted.
Lee sighed, doing as his wife bade him. Then he saw it. The tip of his penis was sticking out from under the towel, looking quite happy. For two full minutes he said nothing. What could he say without getting into trouble?
“Now you see, don’t you,” Amanda said.
“Uh huh,” Lee squirmed.
“That’s because that isn’t a towel…it’s a wash cloth,” Amanda accused, “I bet you knew what you were doing the whole time.
“Amanda, really,” Lee began, “I didn’t know that would happen. It was kind of fun, truthfully.”
“Uh huh! The sort of fun a man like you shouldn’t be having with, with…what was the photographer’s name?” Amanda ranted.
“Carmela,” Lee told her.
“Well, you and Carmela went too far!” Amanda railed at him. Her hair was mussed now, and her face was flushed. Real anger was seeping into her eyes.
“Amanda please,” Lee laughed, in an effort to calm her, “There were twenty other people around. And anyway, I love…only…You. Why would I cheat on perfection?”
Amanda had her arms crossed, but Lee could see the love breaking through her steely countenance. She finally said, in a low voice, “I suppose you wouldn’t.”
“And nobody else is going to notice. Nobody studies me like you do,” Lee assured her.
Amanda was having none of that, “Yes they will, Lee, that’s why they buy this magazine. And it’s going into Spy Weekly… the winners go in there, and everyone will see you!”
“Well, maybe some people will notice, but they’ll just see what they missed out on in the early eighties. Tough on them,” Lee began,” as far as Spy Weekly goes, They put one of those huge black circles on those parts so there’s no way anything can show through. I’ve seen it before, and Spy Weekly’s totally clean.”
“Now, what about you?” Lee asked, pulling his copy of Spy Boy out of his drawer, and turning to the page his wife shared with three other lady agents.
“What about me?” Amanda asked, knowing full well that she hadn’t gotten anywhere near nude.
Lee studied the picture a moment. It showed Amanda in a faux-house as a housemaid, in a black and white get up that was see through in most parts, except the ones he liked. But she was bent over, ostensibly getting a stray piece of dust with her feather duster. He knew better. That picture was meant to show off her great ass, legs and physique, and it did just that.
“What’s wrong with it?” Amanda asked again, peeking around his shoulder to look.
“Nothing, except you are going to get birdcalls from all the guys in the bullpen for weeks, posing that way. Tell me you didn’t have fun,” Lee took his turn at prosecutor.
Amanda smiled, “Looks like we can’t go out as a couple for a while without all the other spies eyeballing us.”
“You’re not really upset that everyone can see your favorite toy, are you?” Lee asked with concern, “I’ll tell everybody it’s a fake or something. They don’t have to know it’s real.”
“It WAS my idea. And the article is really very good,” Amanda said, back to her old self.
“Good,” Lee said as she leaned down for him to kiss her, which he willingly did.
There was no knock, only the door opening while they kissed. Both Stetsons knew someone was there, but their marriage had been common knowledge for some time, so they didn’t bother acting like they were caught. That ought to teach the intruder to knock.
“Hey, um, Lee,” Francine’s nosy voice pinged his ears.
He broke his kiss, “What is it Francine?”
“Just wanted to say, nice picture,” she said with a grin.
“Well, thanks,” Lee said.
“Tell them to give you a bigger towel next time,” she said, and left, laughter filling the hallway.
“See!” Amanda hissed.
“She’s seen it before,” Lee dismissed Francine.
“Besides, I got you, and you’re all I need,” Lee said, getting up, “You ready to leave?”
“Yep,” Amanda said, taking thirty seconds to grab her purse and coat for the ride home.
They left the building to start their weekend with their family. They didn’t travel as they had before their marriage was revealed, and liked relaxing on the weekends.
Monday morning found Billy Melrose reviewing Scarecrow’s report. Francine brought in the mail as he did so. The new Spy Weekly sat in the pile, so he picked it up. He’d heard Lee would have a picture in there. He was a little shocked at what he saw.
Somebody didn’t double-check that black circle. It was half the size it should have been. And a little something special was staring back at the section chief.
THE END
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: None of the SMK characters belong to me, and I have in no way harmed them during this writing.