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Author: kingmissy

Rating: G

Summary: Amanda fumes about Lee's treatment of her.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon Productions. I don't make money from them.

Feedback: Constructive criticism welcome

Author's Notes: Thanks to my betas, Lindsey, Merel, and Dawn, for encouragement and making this a much better story. Warning: If you think Amanda loved Lee from the moment they met, you won't like this story.

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Lee Stetson would try the patience of a saint. I've never met anyone as rude, inconsiderate, and downright maddening as he is. Our assignment today, tracking down survivalists and disarming that war machine cum Winnebago, made that abundantly clear.

Of course, Lee isn't the only person in the intelligence community with appalling manners. Francine Desmond brings a new dimension to the word "catty."

The stony-faced agent currently driving me home obviously resents his task and doesn't mind letting it show. He's rebuffed all my attempts at polite conversation with grunts, silence, and the standard "that's need to know only." Were it not for Mr. Melrose, I'd conclude that politeness, like treason or a bad credit report, disqualified one from the spy business.

If I could pinpoint the single, major reason as to why Lee Stetson gets to me, what would it be? His complete lack of ... everything. Because I hate to be vague (and have some time to kill), I've decided to compile a list.

Hmmm... let's see...

1. Although he knows everything about me, he won't tell me a thing about himself.

From all the forms I've had to fill out, I know that Lee knows ten thousand things about me. He's probably put it through the Agency computer fifteen million times. And yet, he says that he doesn't understand me. Go figure.

And because he won't tell me anything about himself, I certainly don't understand him. When we were walking in the woods today, I tried to get him to tell me something, anything, about himself. Certainly it wouldn't be hard for a man like him to come up with an interesting anecdote or two. After all, he's a spy. He must have had a really interesting life. But according to Lee, "There's nothing to know."

Even when Lee finally agreed to answer a question, he didn't really tell me anything. Just that the origin of his codename, Scarecrow, was "very personal." Then he pretended not to hear me when I asked if he'd ever been married (as if any self-respecting woman could put up with him).

Honestly, I think the man is called Scarecrow because he's missing his brain. Anyone with a grain of sense would realize that national security isn't threatened by his telling me where he was born, or if he has any siblings, or if he were ever married.

2. He expects me to keep my work with him a secret, and then he makes it almost impossible.

When Lee first told me about being a spy, he said that I couldn't tell anyone -- not a therapist, not my boyfriend, not even my family. He said it could be dangerous for Mother and the boys to know anything. Well, if my family isn't supposed to find out about my working for the Agency, then the Agency has to stay away from my family. It seems straightforward to me, but Lee either doesn't get it or doesn't care.

Lee calls me at home, though I've told him not to. Just the other day I said it as plainly as I could, "Look, you cannot call here. Real people live here, and they won't understand you." Worse yet, he popped up in front of the kitchen window while Mother was doing the dishes! For heaven's sake! When I told him not to call, I didn't mean that he could come and sit in my bushes. You have to wonder how he's avoided the KGB when he doesn't know enough to stay out of sight of my mother.

3. He has the worst manners.

How hard is it to say "Hello" and "Good-bye" in a phone call? Apparently it's beyond Lee Stetson's capacity. Most people even manage to work in an "How are you?" or "What are you doing?" Not Lee.

The other day, when Lee called, Phillip asked if he were Dean, and Lee said, "Not in a million years." Why be gratuitously insulting about someone you've never met? Why confuse a little boy like that?

In short, why be as rude as Lee Stetson? I could try asking him, but he'd never tell me. (See point number 1)

4. He is insufferably vain and arrogant.

I admit that Lee Stetson is handsome. He's tall, with good hair (not great hair), and a straight nose, and regular features, and nice eyes... really pretty hazel eyes. And he looks amazing in a tuxedo. Unfortunately, Lee Stetson is all too aware that he's attractive. He's used to having women swooning over him and always having his way.

Well, he's not going to have his way with me...um, well...I mean...oh,never mind. It was just such a pleasure to turn down his invitation for a drink after we had finished the Bobby Boucher case. I think he was pretty surprised that I said no. Rejection is an experience that Lee Stetson should have more often. That's why, today, when Lee asked me what I thought of his legs, I said, "Okay." Who could believe that would make him so petty!

5. He is utterly inconsiderate.

From the way Lee Stetson behaves, you'd think that I have nothing to do but wait for him to pull me into a case and then disappear.

That's not true. I have a household to run. I'm a single parent with two young boys. I do lots of volunteer work related to Phillip and Jamie: PTA, Cub Scouts, Junior Trailblazers, Little League, bake sales. I do other community volunteer work too. Mother helps out a lot, but I can't let her do everything. I'm also seeing a nice man who likes Mother and the boys and wants to marry me.

And I need a job. Joe's paying child support, but it's not enough to cover everything. Especially emergencies like when the dishwasher and the air conditioner decide to hold hands and jump off a cliff.

Yet Lee didn't hesitate to interrupt and ruin my interview for a perfectly good job at Honeywell Typewriter. Sure, I got paid for my time on that case, but it's not like I can count on a regular paycheck or predictable hours from the Agency.

Lee expects me to drop everything and go along with whatever comes up on a case. I'm not supposed to mind spending the night at Betsy Ross estates. I'm not supposed to mind having a secret vehicle parked in my driveway as "a little favor." I'm not supposed to mind playing gold when I don't know how to golf. I'm not supposed to mind showing up hideously underdressed at a party that he failed to tell me was a formal event.

Has the man ever shown the slightest compunction about any of these things? No. I've come to realize that being Lee Stetson means never having to say, "I'm sorry."

6. He treats me like I'm an idiot.

I'm an intelligent person. It isn't necessary to say things to me like, "All you have to do is look. You can look, can't you?" Could Lee Stetson possibly be more patronizing?

Maybe Lee doesn't respect me because I don't have formal training as a spy. But it's not for lack of trying. I was promised training and I want that training! If something happens, I have to know what to do. Has Lee done anything to see that I get the training I need?

No, he has not.

7. He doesn't recognize my contributions to solving a case.

Wouldn't you be nice to someone who saved your life when Russian spies captured you? Who helped uncover a big security leak? Who helped figure out how guns were being smuggled out of the country? Who pulled you out of the way after you'd been shot, even if you said, "Leave me behind"? Who managed to avoid crazy survivalists and our own soldiers shooting at us? (By doing some rather daring driving, if I do say so myself).

I know I'd be awfully grateful if someone did those things for me. I've done things like that for Lee Stetson -- and for my country, of course. And yet Lee has never even bothered to thank me. Not once.

Maybe Lee has trouble admitting that he didn't solve those cases all by himself -- that he needed the help of a housewife from Arlington. Well, couldn't he at least thank me for little things that I did on this assignment, like making lunch and bandaging his leg? No, he doesn't even do that. He could, but he doesn't.

Who needs all this aggravation? Well, maybe I won't work with Lee Stetson again. It sure sounded tentative when I left him at the Vigilant. I recall his less than gracious parting words: "I guess I'll be seeing you, maybe. But then again, maybe I won't. You know."

On the other hand, I'd like to keep working at the Agency. I do need a job. And once I start something, I like to finish it. Besides, it's my patriotic duty.

And, aggravating as he is, maybe I'd miss Lee Stetson if I never saw him again.

Just a little. Maybe.

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