- Steele Habits Are Hard to Break
Date: Sunday, August 06, 2000
- sue hantak <hantaks@mtco.com>
Steele Habits Are Hard To Break
by Suejue
She stopped mid sentence, "Is that your foot on my leg?"
He wiggled his brows playfully as they leaned in for a kiss.
She rolled to her back tugging on his shirt pulling him in to
deepen the kiss. With the wine glass still in his hand, he contemplated
briefly where to set down his glass. It was rare for Laura to
be the aggressor and when she started running her tongue along
his lips, he hastily tried to place his glass on the end table.
He missed the edge by the narrowest of margins. The newly installed
carpet was spared, but the sleeve of Remington's shirt and Laura's
entire blouse weren't near as lucky. "Oh Laura, I'm so sorry."
Remington sprang to his feet retrieving a roll of paper towels
from the kitchen.
"You had to open RED wine this evening?" Laura blotted
surveying the damage to her garment.
"We should soak these right away," Remington assessed.
Laura pinched her shirt and pulled it away from her body, shaking
it slightly from the wet discomfort. "Got any coarse sea
salt?"
"Coarse sea salt?" he repeated.
"And some ice...one of those Heloise hints. For red wine
stains, soak in cold water with coarse salt...come on, take your
shirt off we'll put them in the bathroom sink."
He started to unbutton the cuff on his shirt. Following Laura
in the direction of the bathroom, she couldn't see him grinning
at the prospect of Laura taking off her shirt as well.
Maybe she was distracted by the task at hand or maybe she was
just more ease around him, but whatever the reason, without any
hesitation she removed her blouse and stood in his bath in just
her satin and lace bra. She caught a glimpse of him looking at
her in the mirror. Appreciative or lecherous, she couldn't decide.
If he had just kept his mouth shut, she wouldn't have felt so
self conscious and defensive.
"You mind if I use up the rest of the bottle of wine on
your bra and pants?" That was the question that got him
shoved out of the bathroom.
She grabbed a nearby towel to cover up and asked, "Do you
have a sweatshirt or something I can put on?"
"Top dresser drawer," he instructed.
The impeccable Mr. Steele put on a laundered, pressed shirt from
his closet and returned to the living room. There were three
top dresser drawers for Laura to choose from. She pulled open
the first one on the right. The man had underwear in every color
and design. She glanced over her shoulder then reached for one.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," she scolded herself
as she extracted one from the drawer. Overwhelming guilt caused
her to cram it back in the drawer. Her hand hit an object that
certainly wasn't underwear. She checked the doorway again and
pulled it out. "Why is he hiding his passport in his underwear
drawer?" As she opened it up, expecting to see the one she
and Mildred gave him in London, Laura joking thought, "Okay
what Bogart name is on this one?"
"Frank Wilson?" She was first hurt that it wasn't the
passport she assumed. She was devastated when she realized it
was issued just three weeks ago.
"Laura?....." Mr. Steele called from the other room.
She closed the drawer and opened the next. There she found a
sweatshirt and yanked it over her head. Taking a deep breath
she tried to come up with plausible reasons for the passport,
but she couldn't. The only one her upset and suspicious mind
conjured was that he was leaving as Frank Wilson.
She reentered the living room still dazed and distracted by her
discovery. *I can't confront him.* she thought to herself Aside
from the obvious issue at hand, how would she explain going through
his underwear drawer? "I was snooping or I was playing with
your underwear". They were both equally embarrassing and
damning.
Laura grabbed her purse from the credenza and headed toward the
front door, "It's late, Mr. Steele, I'll see you tomorrow."
She knew she couldn't get away that fast. He stepped in front
of her, "Laura's it's hardly past ten."
"Neither of us has any significant sleep in the past four
days, New York, the porn theatre, the overpass. I think we should
call it a night."
"Call it a night right here, stay with me, Laura."
he pleaded.
True be told, if he had asked that before she found the passport,
she would have actually stayed.
"I've afraid I wouldn't be very good company right now,"
she responded honestly.
"At least let me drive you." he offered but she declined
kissing him on the cheek.
"Goodnight, Mr. Steele"
He saw the crinkle in her brow as she walked out the door. Was
she that upset about her blouse? Was it that tasteless comment
he made in the bathroom? Remington shook his head unaware of
what was really bothering Laura.
Laura got out her "Legends of Hollywood" book. Sure
enough, Bogie played a character called Frank Wilson in "You
Can't Get Away With Murder. She then flipped through her journal.
The date on his passport was a few weeks after they returned
from the Freidlich Spa. Laura was now more confused than ever.
Sure, she said some pretty awful things in the latent hostility
exercise, but she apologized. The walk on the beach? The letter
he gave her? He even called it a "start" for them.
On the other hand, he also ruefully laughed when she asked if
whether staying was a change for the better. That was probably
the most honest statement he ever made. Unfortunately that brutal
honesty told her in no uncertain terms that he wasn't completely
happy being Remington Steele. She further analyzed that maybe
he's leaving because whatever they have between them , has moved
forward yet. She agreed with him, but that was weeks ago and
the relationship still hasn't progressed. The trust that developed
slowly over the past few months crumbled with that thought. The
belief that he wanted to stay with her vanished. Laura became
more guarded and was now just waiting for D-day, as in disappearance
day.
He bought into the first few excuses, but when she declined to
go out for the fourth time, he finally asked, "Laura, what
have I done to deserve this?"
"Deserve what?"
"You have been treating me like I have the plague. I've
returned your blouse, good as new. Was it what I said in the
bathroom?"
Laura long forgot that ill-chosen remark. "What?"
"The wine? ...... When I insinuated that I wanted you out
of your pants and bra....." he reminded her.
"Oh that.....no.....I've just been very busy,"
"Busy or not, you still can have dinner with me," he
pointed out in a voice escalating in proportion to his frustration
over Laura's behavior.
"Maybe I don't want to," she blurted.
"Okay then, let me ask the question again, what have I done?"
"Nothing," she shook her head unconvincingly.
"Laura, I'm tired of your games. I'm not going to keep chasing
you" he said in anger.
"My games?" Laura shouted with a mix of indignation
and hurt. "What about your games? What is Frank Wilson up
to?"
He looked blankly at her, not sure of what to say. He decide
to play ignorant.
"Who's Frank Wilson?"
"For once in your life, Mr. Steele, don't lie to me."
"Okay......Okay......you're right. You obviously found the
passport." He began pacing.
"I just want to know if you intend to use it...............Are
you planning on leaving?"
"I did think about leaving, a while ago."
"You forged another passport, I'd call that more than a
thought."
"Actually, Daniel sent me the passport."
"Ahhhh .......my number one fan. That still doesn't explain
why you decided to keep it."
"I don't know.....I've lived my whole life on a contingency,
always having a "Plan B". I guess old habits are hard
to break."
"I see." Laura bit her lower lip obviously trying to
hide the hurt. "Excuse me." She rushed past him.
"Laura!" he called after her as he raced to catch up
with her. He caught her as they got on an empty elevator. "I'll
destroy it"
"What difference does it make? You'll just get another one.......How
many films was Bogart in anyway?"
The elevator doors opened. As a few people tried to get on, Remington
quickly pressed the button, "Sorry, all full." In between
floors he pulled the stop.
He turned to Laura who by now shrank into the corner in a futile
attempt to hide from him. "Do you want to know what my Plan
A was?"
"What?"
"My Plan A.....you know .......what I would be running from
if it doesn't work out?"
She remained silent, not really interested in anything he would
have to say at this point.
He continued despite her unresponsiveness, "Daniel actually
sent me the passport as a joke. He included a note that said
'If she turns you down, we can always meet in Monaco.' He looked
intently at her to see if her deductive mind could process what
he implied. There was no indication that she figured it out.
He moved closer to her, well within her personal space and spelled
it out, "You see I told him that I was in love with you
and I wanted to marry you."
He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her into a passionate
kiss. The alarm began to sound from the stalled elevator. He
stepped out of her embrace to release the stop. They still had
several floors to go before it returned to the lobby. Just before
he kissed her again, he revealed, "You know if you looked
in my nightstand drawer, you would have found the ring instead."
As their lips tentatively met, he pulled back perplexed by another
thought. "What were you doing in my underwear drawer anyway?"
The End
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