DISCLAIMER Scarecrow & Mrs. King is copyrighted to Warner Brothers and Shoot

The Moon Production Company. The original portions of this story, however, are

copyrighted to the author. This story is for entertainment purposes and is a labor of love. Friday challenge: use these words: Tree, Jeans, Bathrobe, Candle, Dimples.

Mud Wrestling

By Ermintrude

Post Double Agent

Amanda accompanied Lee to meet again with his snitch, Augie Swann. She felt a bit apprehensive, going back to the man's sleazy mud wrestling bar, but this time they had arrived before business hours, so they were the only ones there, apart from the cleaning crew. Amanda shuddered at the thought of cleaning that place every day, after all that mud was slung around the place. At least this time, she was wearing jeans, so she was less worried about ruining any more clothes.

"OK, Augie, we're here. What do you have for me?" Lee asked impatiently as soon as his snitch appeared.

"Lee, my man. So good to see you. And the delectable Mrs. King. So glad to see you again." Augie swept in and took Amanda's hand in his and raised it to his lips.

"Augie" Lee growled. "Just give me the information." He put his arm around Amanda's shoulders and maneuvered her out of reach of the snitch.

"Um, I think you've forgotten something …" Augie held out his hand, looking pathetic.

"Give me some idea about what you've got for me, and maybe I'll have something for you." Lee countered.

Augie shuffled and looked pathetic and needy. Lee stared the man down and he wilted. "I heard about something … interesting … coming up for sale." Augie looked around furtively, as if he expected an enemy watching him in his own bar.

Lee shook his head and handed over a couple of bills.

Augie looked expectant, and waited a bit with his hand still out, then pocketed the bills, and shrugged. "OK. But you don't get it all for that. I heard there's a South American guy in town who is peddling the location and directions to a camp where certain … people are training."

"Any idea about which country we are talking about?" Lee asked impatiently.

"Gee, I don't think I can remember too well…" Augie's hand crept out again.

"Maybe I should haul you in and try a little truth serum—that might help jog your memory."

"Hey! Are you out of your tree? You can't arrest me, I haven't done anything! My information is for sale—and if you don't treat me right, maybe I'll just stop helping you out." Augie sounded put out.

"Augie, I tolerate you and your antics because occasionally you do have something useful. But you aren't that important. You can't hold a candle to some of my other contacts. Now c'mon, give."

The snitch turned to Amanda with an entreating look. "Hey, Mrs. King, can't you talk some sense into this guy? He can't treat me this way!"

"Augie, I think you'd better tell us what you know. Lee and I really need to get to another appointment."

Augie shook his head in defeat. "OK, OK. The guy is from Colombia, and the camp is in the mountains. It's a group training to take over whatever governments they can. The Cubans are helping with advisors and some weapons—originally out of Moscow. He's staying at the Hilton. You can find him by the pool. He'll be wearing a plaid bathrobe over his swimsuit."

Lee nodded. "Thanks, Augie. You have a phone I can use?"

"Yeah, here." Augie pulled a phone out from behind the bar. Lee dialed. Augie drew Amanda off while Lee was talking.

"So Mrs. King, have you thought about my offer?" He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and spoke into her ear, so her protector wouldn't hear.

"Offer?" Amanda was lost.

"Mud wrestling! You'd be great. I can just picture you in a bikini—and the other girls are always happy to have a new opponent. It's really not hard, and the girls don't hurt each other. No hair pulling or low blows. Just good clean—well not so clean—fun—wrestling around in the mud. We use warm water, so it's really comfortable, like a thick bath. You could make a lot of money…"

"Gee, I don't think it's for me, Augie. I have my family to think of…"

"A couple of the other girls have kids. They say it's an ideal profession for a single mother. They even baby-sit for each other from time to time."

"I don't think so…" Amanda was shaking her head in disbelief. Didn't this guy ever take the hint?

"I think you'd be a natural. I bet that you don't make so much working with Lee that you can turn down the money you'd make by mud wrestling. You don't even have to do it every night—just weekends. Even only one night a week—you could clean up! Hey, that's funny! Clean up with mud wrestling. I should maybe franchise and use that as my slogan."

"Really Augie, I appreciate your concern, but it just isn't for me. Really." She looked apologetic, but she actually felt a bit nauseated by the thought.

"Don't say no. Think about it. You can come in anytime, and watch. I won't even charge you cover. I just know you'd look cute in a bikini—covered with mud…" He stepped back and looked her up and down and got a dreamy look on his face. He walked slowly around her and ran his eyes appreciatively over her trim figure, lingering on her pert derrière. "If you have dimples, you'll earn a lot more. Some of the guys really like a woman with dimples."

Suddenly Augie found himself lifted off the floor. "I thought I made it clear—leave Mrs. King alone. She's not one of your mud wrestling bimbos." Lee shook the man to punctuate his statement.

A wave of relief coursed over her. "Lee, put him down. I think he gets the idea. Besides, we need to get going—we have to make that other appointment." She put her hand on his shoulder and looked expectantly at Lee.

Lee set Augie down, and poked him in the chest. "Leave Mrs. King alone, got it!"

"All right, all right. I got it." Augie brushed himself off. "But I think you're passing up a golden opportunity, Mrs. King." Lee raised his fist at Augie, and the snitch ducked and moved away from Amanda.

"No thank you." Amanda said with finality, as she moved away from Augie and slightly behind Lee.

"Let's go, Amanda." Lee took her elbow and led her out of the bar.

"Thanks, Lee. I really didn't want to be rude, but he just wasn't taking no for an answer!"

"He's scum. He should just leave you alone. Next time, you can wait in the car. You don't need to be subjected to that." Lee opened the door and handed her into his Porsche.

"Thank you for thinking of me, but I can handle it. I do appreciate you looking out for me. That's so sweet." She smiled at her partner in gratitude.

"Some days, that's all I do—look out for you." At the sight of her fallen face, he relented, "But I'm getting used to it. And you do come up with some good ideas now and then." He stroked her fingers. "Let's get going, we're going to be late for our meeting with TP."

Amanda smiled and felt a warm glow. He might not say it very often, but he did appreciate her contributions. It was the little things that made it all worthwhile for her.