Hi again. I am always unsure of how to start off these things. I feel like I am writing a report for work or something, or the dear diary that a young teenager would write. Anyway, this is the first time I had to write in about two weeks. Finally we are between cases, for that I am happy. I am also happy to be home. Home, I had no idea how much that word meant to me until now.

But it also brings a whole new range of thoughts and emotions along with it.

Now see working in my line of work, it has always benefited the agent to cut off their emotions from their job. Logical I think, or thought anyway.

I guess I should start from the first case. It is probably what changed me in a way. I mean I tried to say `It won't happen to me.' Yeah right, you know what that never works. As soon as you say that, guess what it happens.

I can't put the details in this; you don't know when even one's personal journals could fall into the wrong hands.

Well as most of my cases had been going, Amanda has been helping me with them. Billy keeps telling me she has the instinct for it, trust her. What choice did I have? But you know what for some reason I have always trusted her. And I haven't got a clue why.

Anyway this case, it revolved around the Russians, as it always does these days for some reason or another. Amanda and I ended up at this old cabin meeting a contact of mine when everything went bad. She was playing this contacts daughter, she is very good at this, I have to admit. What comes out of her mouth sometimes is amazing.

Well my contact and I made a plan to get out once the `bad guys' arrived. There were only two of them; it shouldn't have been that hard to escape. But as it turned out I got shot, again. Note to self: Never get shot in the shoulder, it hurts like hell. But on a good note I did get one of them, in the leg I think. Night had fallen by then, and there was no way that Amanda was going to be able to make it out with me, so we decided to stay there over night.

I really needed to stay awake, but the pain was awful. Amanda took care of me though. She made a bed of sorts and helped me on to it, then stayed at my side for the longest time, holding my hands, comforting me. I can't tell you how good it felt to be with her,even if I was injured. She touch, it was justÉ I can't explain it. Healing.

I remember waking up and the first thing I saw was her face leaning over me, and her hand gently moving through my hair. I never found that simple act to be so relaxing, so inver gating, so I don't know... but when she does it, wow.

Now you won't catch me saying this to anyone!

Amanda can be the most aggravating person on the planet sometimes. She talks too much, asks to many questions, and sometimes says the most infuriating things. But for some reason I can feel this connection between us.

I can't explain it.

I couldn't believe that we actually sat there with the enemy and drank together, sang Christmas carols together. I actually was starting to feel a bit better; although I knew all along it was the alcohol, and probably a bit of Amanda's concern for me as well, but I was actually able to sit up. I leaned against the back of the chair made bed.

I remember reaching up for Amanda's hand as she walked by me and pulled her down to me. When I look back at my reasoning of this, I can't find any, other than that I wanted contact. Anyway she sat down, reluctantly for that matter, and looked at me with a smile on her face. She reached up and traced my jaw with her finger. I closed my eyes at the sensation. We then returned to singing with everyone else. I encircled her waist with my good arm and leaned against her for support, which like always she gladly gave me.

Why do I deserve this woman?

I don't think I do.

We went home the next day, well she went home and I went to the hospital. As much as I wanted to be away from the whole situation, to be back alone, so there I was, alone.

Billy stopped by brought me some provisions. What a way to spend Christmas, for some reason I am beginning to think that there is much more to this holiday than sitting in a hospital room, alone with a bottle of wine. I feel like I am missing something, not just the holidays but from every day life as well.

She called me. I was looking forward to her calling me. For some reason I didn't want to hang up the phone, but I did.