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Author: kingmissy

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Lee Stetson from Elisa Danton's point of view.

Disclaimer: Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon Productions own the characters, and I make no money from them

Timing: First or second season (but from the perspective of a fourth season character in "All That Glitters")

Author's Note: Thanks to Lindsey, for constructive suggestions and encouragement, and to eman, for saving me from a plot faux pas and improving the story.

This story assumes that Elisa knew what Lee actually did for a living. That's my reading of the details in "All That Glitters." Elisa was on a first name basis with Billy and Dr. Smyth; both Billy and Francine knew her well enough to comment on her personality; she was connected to top military brass (a general named a jeep after her) and the White House (Ron and Nancy sent a note to the party she hosted for top military brass). If you have a different reading of how much Elisa knew about Lee Stetson's work, this story calls for you to suspend that belief.

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Elisa Danton studied her reflection in the glass of the reserve ticket window at the Kennedy Center. `Yes,` she decided, `you simply can't go wrong with Prada.` The strapless black evening gown clung to her tall, graceful figure. The simplicity of the beautifully cut dress was, to those in the know, a testament to its expense. The diamond and black opal earrings and the black satin evening bag were definitely the right accessories.

Of course, the man standing next to her was the perfect accessory as well. Damn, Lee Stetson looked delicious in a tux. Of course, Elisa reminded herself, he also looked delicious out of it. She admired Lee's long, slender fingers as he reached for the envelope containing the tickets. He had such lovely, sexy hands. Hands that he knew how to use in such lovely, sexy ways.

Lee bent his head to speak softly into Elisa's ear. "Ready?" he asked in a husky whisper. Elisa shivered. And that voice. Like honey over gravel. She nodded, and the pair moved away from the ticket window and into an open space among the well-dressed people crowding the lobby.

Lee casually opened the ticket envelope and glanced inside. A hint of annoyance crossed his features for a moment. He drew out the tickets, looked into the envelope again, and then turned the tickets over to scan their backs. Then he looked into Elisa's eyes and flashed her a dazzling smile. "We'll be staying for a while," he said, sotto voce. Elisa smiled back into Lee's beautiful hazel eyes, gave a half-toss of her carefully coifed head, and laughed delicately. "Merde," she murmured, tilting her head and smiling.

`Honestly,` Elisa thought, `Lee's job can be such a bore.` Of course, his public job as a film director had a certain panache. And, in the abstract, Lee's real job, as an intelligence operative, was exciting and intriguing. Lee didn't share details with her, but Elisa liked the idea of having an American James Bond as her lover. She couldn't deny that Lee's travels around the world for his work had given him a cosmopolitan sophistication that you wouldn't normally find in someone of his background -- the child of a major in the U.S. army, raised by a half-uncle who was a career Air Force officer. No, most military brats weren't fluent in several languages, knowledgeable about fine wines, well versed in how to dress in the latest GQ style, and impeccable in their manners in formal social settings.

Not that Elisa lacked an appreciation for the U.S. military. After all, her father's fortune and her own considerable trust fund came from defense contracts. She'd always had an eye for a handsome man in uniform, from her flirtatious dalliances as a teenager to her brief but physically satisfying affairs as a young woman.

Still, Elisa thought, as her mind wandered back to Lee, it could be a real drag to be involved with a man who actually worked for a living. It was so hard to make plans when your lover could be sent away to anywhere from Rio to Rwanda at a day's notice. While he was a marvelous lover and a charming and intelligent companion, Lee spent entirely too much time preoccupied with cases instead of with her. And having the man you shared your bed with do physically dangerous work had its drawbacks. Cracked ribs definitely put a crimp in a man's lovemaking.

Lee gave a discreet cough and slipped his hand under Elisa's elbow, indicating that they should enter the auditorium and take their seats. They moved forward smoothly, her long legs easily keeping up with his stride. `Well,` Elisa thought, `I'll just have to see `Giselle` one more time. But I'd much rather be dancing with Lee than watching someone else dance while he sits next to me.` The fact that this particular performance was a cooperative effort of the Ballet Russe and the Paris Ballet Company didn't make it interesting to her. Elisa suspected, however, that this circumstance had prompted Lee to invite her here. She neither knew nor cared about the particulars of Lee's assignment, and he wouldn't tell her if she asked. She was only annoyed that it hadn't been wrapped up quickly. God only knew how long it was going to be before they could slip back to her house, into the hot tub, and under her satin sheets.

After they had seated themselves in the fifth row center seats, Elisa glanced over at her companion's face. Lee's expression was cool and self-possessed, but she knew him well enough to recognize the hint of tension in his jaw. Once again, Lee Stetson was thinking about a case, while she was thinking about Lee Stetson. Not for the first time, Elisa wondered whether Lee had invited her because he enjoyed her beauty and her company or because she was a suitable companion when he was working. She'd met Lee when he was checking security in an R and D facility of her father's company, so she'd always known what he did for a living. Because she was the only child of a top defense contractor, Lee considered her a "safe" companion. (Elisa was also sure that Lee had run a full computer check on her when their relationship had moved beyond an enthusiastic one-night stand).

Oddly, lines from a Yeats poem that she'd had to learn at that London boarding school ran through Elisa's mind: "only God, my dear/ Could love you for yourself alone/ And not your yellow hair." Elisa wouldn't mind if Lee loved her for her beautiful hair and body and wardrobe. After all, she loved him, in part, for his physical self: his strength, his athleticism, his grace, his beautiful body, and his sense of style. But to be loved because you knew what a man did for a living and could be counted on not to use that information against him -- that was hard to take.

To be loved... well, love was hardly the word to describe Lee Stetson's feelings for her, Elisa reminded herself. She knew that Lee thought her attractive, enjoyed sex with her, and found her exciting and entertaining. He even liked her as a person and considered her a friend. But he didn't love her. She'd learned that after she'd made the mistake of lifting her head from his well-muscled chest and whispering, "Je t'aime." He'd immediately tensed and growled, "Just don't, Elisa. I like you too much to play that game. Don't ruin it."

Apparently Lee Stetson didn't do love -- unless it was directed at his job and his country. He also didn't do -- or put up with -- tears, or tantrums, or other attempts at emotional blackmail. Those were things he walked out on. And he didn't do monogamy. Yes, Lee had probably slept with her more times than any other woman in the past couple of years. But he also slept with many other women, and he fully expected her to sleep with other men. Elisa had grown to hate the phrase, "variety is the spice of life," although she pretended to agree.

Well, at least Lee wasn't after her money, Elisa reflected. He refused expensive gifts. He never pretended that he wanted to marry her (and, she thought wryly, to marry her inheritance). Lee Stetson wasn't a man that anyone could buy. `Although sometimes,` Elisa thought sadly, `sometimes I wish that I could.`

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