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Author: Anonymous7

Rating: PG

Genre: AU

Summary: This story is based on a small change in "Over the Limit", but the rest of the episode is not much effected. It’s what comes after that is.

Disclaimer: All characters, except Charlene, are the property of Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon Productions. (And Charlene is sort of based on characters that they own or their writers alluded to.) No copyright infringement is intended here.

This story, however, is mine. Please don't archive it without my permission.

Feedback: All is welcome.

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Prologue:

Amanda: She's very nice.

Lee: I'm glad you like her.

Amanda: Not your type.

Lee: What do you mean not my type?

Amanda: She's normal. She's a normal person. She would never understand you. She would never understand what you do….

******************************[Amanda’s POV]

Oh! Go straight home Amanda. Story of my life... school, dentist, grocery store , and then straight home. Never been to the U.N. Never been on the road to Moscow. Only Hague I know is that guy who used to be Secretary of State!

How dare he send me home! I really think we should be watching O’Keefe, but oh no. We can’t. Have a very important date tonight. With a normal person. Tall, pretty, brunette normal person who works at the U.N.

Well, I’ll show him. I’ll go watch O’Keefe while he has dinner with … what was her name? Oh right, Leslie. Hmm.. Not Leslie with an "I" I’ll bet!

He can have his night with Leslie, while I go … Where’s my purse? Oh, gosh darn it. I left my purse up in Lee’s apartment. I really don’t want to go up there. But how will I get in the station wagon without it?

Oh well, I don’t suppose I have a choice. Hope I don’t disturb their dinner.

What’s the door doing open? Lee forgot to close it all the way? I’ll just peek my head inside and call out for my purse. I really hope I don’t disturb anything. Maybe I'll knock on the half open door.

Oh, good, Leslie’s not even out here yet, Lee is pouring the wine. I’ll just … What did he just say! Did he just call Leslie Amanda? Oh, my…I really need to get out of here. But I still need my purse.

I have to knock. I don’t have a choice. And here’s Leslie. In the dress. The one that looks remarkably like mine. Only not quite like mine, since I made mine.

Ugh! Maybe I’ll just knock softly, and hope they’ll hear me.

"Amanda?" Leslie replies to my knock. I smile, although even I can feel that the smile is weak.

"Hi. I just … I left my purse here earlier." I avoid looking at Lee. I caught his eye for just a moment and couldn’t at all read the expression on his face. I’ll just stare at the floor a minute more…

"Here you go, Amanda. Have a lovely evening."

Does she have to be so darn pleasant? "Thanks, Leslie. I hope you two enjoy your dinner."

I back up slowly, not even realizing it until my back hits the wall behind me.

******************************[Lee’s POV]

I can’t believe I did that! How could I call Leslie Amanda? Amanda, my partner. Annoying housewife. Leslie, my girlfriend. Beautiful U.N. translator. No, there is no good reason for me to confuse the two. And what was that nonsense about Amanda not understanding me. I mean Leslie. Damn! Leslie not understanding me. Amanda, … Leslie! understands me perfectly.

Leslie, Leslie, Leslie. Right, Leslie. I am having dinner with Leslie. Leslie. Leslie.

Did someone just knock? And Leslie is back. I turn toward the door immediately, trying to cover my embarrassment at calling Leslie Amanda and hide the disappointment in my eyes. The dress just didn’t work. It just isn’t as perfect on Leslie as on … Nope, won’t say it! Besides, how could my housewife partner outshine my translator girlfriend in anything! Of course not. I’ve just built up the image of Amanda oops, wasn’t supposed to say it! my partner in that dress.

Catching sight of our intruder, I hear Leslie call out to her, "Amanda?" and she enters, albeit shyly. I can see her anger at me from earlier in her eyes and can’t help but notice how beautiful she looks with her eyes sparkling — even with anger. No! Amanda is not beautiful. Not beautiful! I just need to keep repeating that. Whatever am I thinking?

She is acting strangely and I have to wonder if it’s caused by our earlier fight or because she heard me accidentally call out her name when talking to Leslie. I’m filled with this irrational urge to walk over and pull her into a hug, just so she knows everything is alright, but at the same time feel this need to look anywhere but at her. What if she did hear me?

When I look up again, she is awkwardly backing into the door and then is gone. The look of confusion in her eyes answers the question. She heard me. But, now she’s gone and Leslie, who apparently did not hear me, is smiling at me expectantly. No doubt waiting for some compliment on the dress. Which would most certainly look lovely on her if I could stop comparing the image to that of my housewife partner in a similar dress. My housewife partner who is beautiful no matter how many times I deny it, who with a simple look of her eyes can cause me to want to cross rooms to hold her, even while my girlfriend is there, who moments ago told me how wrong… who moments ago acted jealous of my girlfriend? Jealous? Amanda?

Ugh! This is giving me a headache.

******************************[Amanda’s POV]

I’m still confused about what we are doing here. Why he even asked me to dinner. Or why I accepted when I find being around him so difficult lately. And this isn’t make it better. I don’t think either one of us has said a word in the last five minutes. The sound of our forks moving around our plates the only sound filling the space between us. This fish is really good. I should order fish more. Maybe I should buy some flounder for dinner tomorrow — the boys don’t get nearly enough fish in their diets.

Salad, too, with spinach. Oh, and I need shampoo and paper towels. I think Mother mentioned that we are out of dish detergent. Oh, and we could use some fruit for the boys lunches. Maybe some cheese.

What am I doing! I’m having dinner with my partner, my best friend, a man I can hardly stop thinking about it and I’m making out my grocery list. Ugh!

Did I say that out loud???? Why is he looking at me that way?

"Is everything alright, Amanda?" His voice is so soft. I love the way my name sounds when he’s not exasperated with me. Oh, dear. How is it that I can go from doing mental inventory of what I need at the store to acting like a 16 year old with her first crush in moments?

"Everything’s fine." I smile, hoping to look sincere, but from the look in Lee’s eyes, he doesn’t buy it.

He reaches out his hand, placing it on mine, and I have to fight to leave it there. I’ve learned that the warmth of his hand on mine makes me think things I shouldn’t and makes it hard for me to speak. But the warmth right now is reflected in his eyes and I can’t help but feel warm inside as a response. Whatever else may be going on with us, Lee Stetson cares about me.

"You groaned just a moment ago. So I don’t believe you. What’s wrong?" he asks again, and this time, in an effort to get back to a place where the warmth in his eyes made me smile I decide to be honest.

"This just isn’t comfortable," I start, and rush on when I see the hurt in his eyes. "Us. Together. We are so awkward lately. I miss being comfortable with you." His eyes drop to the table. Clearly, I said the wrong thing.

******************************[Lee’s POV]

I’m not even sure what to say to her. She’s having a miserable time and truthfully, so am I. This was clearly a mistake. Apparently, I’m best at dates based purely on physical attraction, cause with Amanda it’s so much more than that and look how poorly it’s going.

I glance up at her and she is looking at the table now. I turn away, not wanting to catch her eyes, a little frightened of what I might find there. But as I do, I catch sight of a tear making it’s way down her cheek. Gently, I reach across the table and wipe it away, lifting her chin so she’s watching me. "I miss being comfortable with you, too." I tell her softly.

There is a pause in conversation while we both think of where to go from here. It’s hard how it works. Once you are uncomfortable, even recognizing the problem doesn’t solve it. And even acknowledging it is difficult.

The silence stretches and gets more and more awkward. Finally, in an effort to break the silence, I say the first thing that comes to mind, which later I realize was hardly the right thing to say. "You heard me, didn’t you?"

Amanda looks at me quizzically, and so I clarify, "The other night. When I was with Leslie. You heard me call her Amanda." My words are soft and stilted. Already I know this was the wrong topic of conversation. On the other hand, maybe we just need to talk past this.

Amanda’s eyes widen and for a moment I think I was wrong, she hadn’t heard me at all, and now I’ve just told her something I definitely did not want her to know. But then her head falls, her eyelashes falling softly against her cheeks as she closes her eyes (so I can’t see what’s she’s thinking? I’m not sure why.) and in the softest of voices she whispers, "Oh, Lee." My name is drawn out slightly and I can’t determine if this is an admonishment or not which leaves me at a loss of what to say.

******************************[Amanda’s POV]

I’m not sure as to what the appropriate response to this is. I don’t know what to say.

‘I did hear you and it was wrong — I’m sure it didn’t make Leslie happy and it gave me hope of something that I know can never be. You’ve just made things a mess between us.’

None of those things are the right thing to say, and I’m not sure what is. And so I say something, anything, just to stall.

"Oh, Lee."

******************************[Charlene’s POV]

"Oh, Lee." I purr as I slide onto his lap, pushing the table a little closer to his companion. I can’t believe my good luck. I haven’t seen Lee Stedman in ages and tonight I am in the mood for what it is that Lee can give so well. But his response is less than enthusiastic.

"Charlene. Hi." He says awkwardly, all the while pushing the chair back from the table and trying to get me off of his lap. But I’m determined. I don’t care who he came with, Lee Stedman is going home with me tonight.

His persistence has piqued my interest, though. I take another glance at his date. And cringe. She can not be out with my Lee. I turn to Lee, "That your sister?" It’s the only suitable explanation.

"No. That’s Amanda. She’s my…" but before he finishes his statement, Amanda interjects.

"I’m his secretary and this was a work dinner."

Her eyes are full of tears and I wonder if she had hoped that maybe dinner could have turned into something more. Just to make sure she understands I say, "Oh, well, that makes sense. I hope you enjoyed dinner. I’m sure you won’t mind if I enjoy Lee. Why don’t you run on home now, sugar? Lee doesn’t need you here with me to entertain him."

Amanda stands up, "Yes, I think I will go. Thank you for dinner, Lee." I feel a small bit of sympathy for her when I see the hurt look on her face, but come on! She was way out of her league. She must have known that.

But all sympathy vanishes when I find myself unceremoniously dumped on the floor. Lee is staring down at me from where he is now standing and then back at the door through which Amanda just exited. Pulling some bills from his wallet, he drops them on the table and then steps over me.

"Lee, honey." I croon, hoping to remind him that I’m still here. And he does stop and even offers me a hand up. But then looking right into my eyes, he says, "If I’m ever to bump into you when I’m with Amanda again and you dare to speak to her that way, I will make your life a living hell." And stalks off after his secretary.

He stops briefly at the door, only to turn around and say loudly enough for the entire restaurant to hear him, "And just for your information, Amanda can entertain me much better than you, Charlene, any day!"

******************************[Lee’s POV]

I’m not precisely sure what is happening, how things spun out of control so suddenly. But without warning, I’m watching Amanda’s back as she heads out of the restaurant and Charlene is on the floor. I am filled with an irrational anger I can’t explain. It was just, … I don’t know. I was hoping that Amanda and I could talk through the problem, but then Charlene showed up and now it’s still out there, unresolved.

And so I do something so unlike me. I scream at Charlene across the restaurant and tell her exactly what I’m thinking. I’d spend more time doing so except I’m afraid that I’ll lose Amanda.

I’m not even sure where she went, or where to go.

******************************[Amanda’s POV]

I probably shouldn’t have left when I did. It was rude to Lee. But I was still at a loss of what to say about the whole Leslie thing and then that … woman showed up and put it all into perspective. All that I was thinking — how I’m not in any way the type of person that Lee Stetson finds attractive. And that’s fine. It really is. I’m happy being his friend. But right then, I didn’t want to hear it.

And so now I’m sitting here in a cab on my way home trying to sort out my emotions. I’m confused. I mean the whole point is that the woman tonight is Lee’s type. And I’m not. That has always been clear.

And yet… well, what is with Leslie? She didn’t seem anything like that.

I’m not sure what to do. I’m only a block away from home and I really don’t think I could take the probing questions of Mother tonight. I am home really early. Maybe I should take a walk. Yes, I think the fresh air would do me good. A walk around the block would be nice.

******************************[Lee’s POV]

For lack of a better idea, I decided to go to Amanda’s house and wait for her to show up. I’m not even sure how she got home. I’m hoping that is where she went. I suppose she could have gone someplace else all together. The question is where would she go when upset. But I suppose she has to go home sometime, so if she isn’t there now, she will be.

The house is dark, although there is a small light upstairs from Dotty’s room, so I suspect she’s upstairs reading. I don’t see Amanda at all, though. She may already be in bed, but I don’t think she had that much of a head start on me, so I’m going to take my chances and wait for her in the gazebo.

I’m not sure what to say when I do see her. ‘Sorry Charlene showed up and ruined our dinner. The dinner you were clearly not enjoying anyway.’ Somehow that does not seem like the right thing to say.

Or I could start with ‘Sorry Charlene showed up before we could discuss my calling my girlfriend Amanda.’ That discussion was going so well before Charlene showed up and plopped herself in my lap. Of all nights for one of my… I’m not even sure what to call them. Previous dates? Well, whatever. Of all nights for Charlene to show up! And then the way she treated Amanda. What did I ever see in her?

The better question is what did I ever see in any of them? It’s strange how quickly my outlook has changed, but I look back on my life two years ago and I don’t recognize that man. Now, I’d much rather have dinner with Amanda than end up back at my place with someone like Charlene. It’s so much more relaxing. There’s no pressure. Amanda doesn’t want me to be anyone other than myself.

That’s what was so great about Leslie. She was like that, too. But somehow, it wasn’t right. It felt forced. I knew it did, and clearly so did she, because when I came back that night she was gone. A nice note thanking me for the dress and saying she hoped I had enjoyed dinner was awaiting me, but no Leslie.

And I can’t say I was disappointed. Well, maybe a little. But, well, I was worried. Had Leslie been waiting for me, it was clear where the night would have gone. And truthfully, I wasn’t ready. Somehow, that felt important with Leslie — to reach that point. And we hadn’t yet. We’d stayed out late before, very late, but never shared anything more intimate than a few good night kisses.

The whole relationship was foreign to me. And nice. Different, but in a way that was much more relaxing and … well, fun.

"Lee?" the soft voice startles me, and looking up I see Amanda standing at the edge of the gazebo looking surprised to see me.

"I’m sorry for that back there, Amanda. I didn’t expect to bump into Charlene and then …" I trail off, trying to interpret the look in her eyes, but I can’t and feeling awkward I continue. "And then things got so out of hand."

She smiles, but it’s not a smile I’ve seen before. Somehow more sardonic. But she sits down besides me, and that’s a start.

"It’s okay," she reaches over to take my hand in hers and while I know it’s meant to be a gesture of reconciliation, I tighten my grip on her hand, so she can’t take it back. "I think I needed that," she continues.

I look at her quizzically, but she’s not looking at me. She’s looking at the ground. "Needed what?"

"That. Charlene. The whole thing — the way she just came up and sat in your lap, the way she made it clear that she couldn’t fathom that we’d be together. Just, that."

I still don’t understand what she’s getting at, and am about to say so when she says, "Lee, we have to talk," in that way that makes it clear I’m not going to like what comes next. And if that isn’t clear enough, she is slowly pulling her hand out of my grasp.

She turns, slightly, to face me but then promptly looks back down, now at the small amount of bench between us.

"You asked me at dinner if I heard you call Leslie my name. And I did. And I guess it’s made things awkward…" she trails off as she looks up and catches sight of my eyes. Amanda can read me better than anyone, and so it’s no surprise that she can see the mixture of embarrassment and guilt I’m feeling now.

She places a hand just above my knee and in a low voice says, "You shouldn’t feel guilty, Lee. The truth is that things were awkward before that. This just sort of rushed the process further along."

I smile at her, grateful for letting me off the hook, but I know that it’s unfair. Things were just fine until the first time I came into work after a late night. Francine made that ridiculous comment. And I knew Amanda came to the logical conclusion. It was wrong, of course. But I didn’t correct it.

"No. I mean, yes, you’re right. Things were awkward before that, but that’s my fault, too."

Amanda sighs and she sounds vaguely exasperated with me. "No, it’s not, Lee," she says, the irritation coming through clearly.

Then she looks right at me, her eyes clear and determined. "Can I talk for a few minutes without interruption?" she asks, but then goes on before I can answer. "I need to say something that’s going to be difficult to say and I don’t think I can get it out if you stop me."

My heart speeds up a tiny bit, already nervous about she’s going to say. Is she going to quit? Tell me we need to stop being friends? Working together? Chatting in our spare time? What? And for fear that my voice may crack if I reply, I nod my head.

Amanda begins again, her voice clear, but quickly trails off to a soft voice. One I haven’t heard from Amanda before, and I find I need to strain to hear her.

"I don’t know how to say this, except to come out and say it. The reason you calling Leslie Amanda made things awkward is the same reason things were awkward after you came in that day that Billy started the spring cleaning. I know I shouldn’t have, but …" she pauses, but I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to stay quiet longer. "But we’d been spending so much time together lately, outside of work. And I started to think, or let myself believe… Well, that’s not true. I always knew it wasn’t true.… I feel…" Her voice trails off and her next ones are, remarkably, even softer. "I’m attracted to you. Very much so. And I guess with us spending so much time together, I deluded myself a little into thinking you felt the same way."

She stops again, and maybe I’m allowed to talk now, but I can’t. I find myself taking deep breathes, trying to focus on her words despite the pounding of my heart in my ears. I’m not sure what the appropriate response to this is.

"Having Charlene show up tonight," she goes on, her voice slightly stronger now, "just reminded me how ridiculous that was."

She stops again, looking at the ground once more, but I’m not any surer what to say, what I feel. I guess that’s the problem with being with someone who expects you to be you.

But maybe I do know what the right response is. Why Leslie felt so right and yet so forced. And so in a blind flash, I know precisely what to do. Leaning over, I place my fingers under Amanda’s chin and lift her head up. For the second time tonight, I can see tears in her eyes, but this time I’m not so concerned. Leaning over, I capture her lips with mine. I startle her, that’s clear. She doesn’t close her eyes as I come toward her and she takes an involuntary gasp of air just before we touch. But in a moment I can feel her leaning against me, her lips moving beneath mine, her hands on my collar, and then as I feel her tongue brush against mine, I hear a soft moan. And realize that it was me.

We break apart, Amanda looking a little wide eyed, me focusing on trying to catch my breath. That was… well, amazing. It’s not like we’ve never kissed before, but never without an audience — an audience that necessitates it. And Amanda has never responded like that before.

She gets up and I look at her surprised. She looks at me sheepishly. "Thank you, Lee. That was sweet. But I’d rather not pretend anymore. Good night," and she moves towards the house.

"Amanda!" I call out, suddenly sure that if she leaves things will only get worse and she’ll never know that I wasn’t pretending. She stops, but doesn’t turn around. "I wasn’t pretending," I tell her back and she turns toward me, although looks quickly away. Trying to hide the hope written so clearly on her face, no doubt.

I walk toward her, putting my hands on her shoulders. "After you left, do you know what I told Charlene?" I ask her, but she doesn’t respond. "I told her that I’d rather spending an evening with you than with her any day."

She raises her eyes to me, smiling slightly.

I move my hands down to hers and pull her back to the bench. "Amanda, I’d rather spend an evening talking to you than with Charlene or anyone else for that matter. Heck, I’d rather spend an evening working with you than on a date with anyone else.… And I guess that is why I called Leslie Amanda. I thought she was what I was looking for. I really did. But I guess only because she reminded me so much of you. And so it felt forced. Because I was trying to force it to be like it is with you. But it wasn’t." Despite the fact that my palms are sweating while I speak, I manage to look at her and smile. "I’m so glad it wasn’t."

And then before she has a chance to reply, I kiss her again. I think we’ve done enough talking for tonight.

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