- Steele Forgotten Memories.
Date: Wednesday, November 01, 2000
- Adriana <icaro_76@yahoo.com>
Hi all,
here's my small contribution to the 3rd challenge.
Thanks to Lorie for providing the title!
SteeleFic challenge # 3
Standard desclaimers apply.
Permission to archive granted.
Inspiration hit me only last night so I didn't have time to have
this beta read. My apologies to everyone if I butcher the English
language too much, please bear with me.
Steele forgotten Memories
By Adriana
Inspired in a title by Loretta Zuehlke.
Remington squinted his eyes as he cocked his head, examining
his partner's expression closer.
"Is this some kind of a game, Miss Holt?" he asked
her, a hint of laughter hidden behind his serious face.
Laura smiled briefly and squinted her own eyes, mimicking his
actions. When her head was also cocked to the left and their
eyes locked in a playful battle, she said, "Why, Mr. Steele,
I thought that much was clear. This is, indeed, a game; and I'm
one point ahead."
Remington sighed melodramatically.
"Very well," he said, defeated, and then searching
his memory for some kind of a clue, he repeated the question
he was supposed to answer, "What was Mrs. Collins dog's
name, in the Saunters case, January 1981..."
They had been "playing" for almost half and hour already,
sitting comfortably on the carpeted floor of his apartment, their
backs propped against the couch and having a glass of a rich,
vintage Burgundy he'd opened for the evening. When Laura had
insisted that he should at least read the files of the Agency's
previous cases to at least be able to put up a believable front
to the new clients, he didn't think that his idea of transforming
an otherwise tedious task into a possibly rewarding wager could
turn out to be this dangerous.
The game was simple: He would read the files and learn the main
facts by heart. Client's names, case details, names of offenders
and injured parties.... all in all, the kind of thing that could
put anyone to sleep; unless, of course, one had a relatively
powerful incentive. If he failed to answer three times in a row,
Laura was entitled to a question, personal or professional, or
a reasonable request. If he answered correctly three times, he
was entitled to the very same thing. The score so far was two
to one in Laura's favor.
As he looked at Laura's expression of triumph Remington decided
that if he got this one right, he'd make her pay dearly. Maybe
he'd request a home made meal tomorrow night, at HER house -
no, that'd be too risky- Laura wasn't exactly an expert cook,
and besides, he was sure he would be the one who would end up
in the kitchen. Well, there were so many other forms of payment,
Remington thought with a smile.
"The dog played a very important part in the resolution
of the case," Laura reminded him.
"Humm," Remington said, unable to recall the animal's
name, and frowning deeply. He took the glass he was holding to
his nose, allowing the scent of the wine to fill his lungs. Then
sipping the dark red liquid and playing with it on his tongue
and against his palate, he let it rest in his mouth for a few
seconds, appreciating its strangely woody flavor before swallowing.
Laura looked at him with a mixture of amusement and increasing
desire.
He closed his eyes as he let the taste settle for a moment, and
when he opened them again, he trained his blue gaze on her, focusing
intently first on her mouth, then roaming lazily to her jaw line,
her earlobes, her brow; learning every feature, every shadow,
every soft curve of her face before resting them on her dark
brown eyes. He raised his glass in a silent toast as a crooked,
playful smile surfaced on his face.
Laura knew he was playing for time, but it didn't matter. He
wouldn't know this one; she was almost positive of that, and
she'd get to ask him a personal question next, a question she
had been wanting to ask him for quite a long time. She tore her
eyes from his velvet blue ones, refusing to give in to the open
invitation he was offering. There'd be time for that later, maybe.
"Well?" she asked him, her eyes on the carpet.
"Well, even if the dog was important, I don't see why his
name should be considered as vital information...." he said,
defensively.
Laura smiled. "In other words, you don't know the name,"
she said without bothering to hide her delight.
Remington stared at her smile and knitted his brow in concentration.
He had studied this case; it wasn't one of the most recent ones,
but it had been one of the ones that had made a name for the
agency. He could remember there had been a dog involved; the
animal belonged to one of the suspects. Mrs. Collins, the suspect
in question, was a homeless old lady, and the lap dog that followed
her everywhere had been the main reason why she had been discarded
as a suspect in the end. Still, Remington couldn't remember seeing
the name of the creature listed anywhere. The police records
merely reported *a dog* and Laura's and Murphy's own files referred
to it as the animal. That was mighty strange, Steele thought,
both detectives were quite thorough at the time of writing boring
reports. He had learned that the hard way.
Laura saw him smile as and idea struck him, and suddenly she
became worried.
"Is this a trick question, Miss Holt?" Remington asked
finally.
It was Laura's turn to frown now. Maybe she'd cried victory too
early.
"There's no such thing as a trick question, Mr. Steele.
Either you know the answer or you don't," she countered.
"I see," Steele said, and then brought the glass of
wine to his lips again.
Laura smiled when he quirked his eyebrow as if he were contemplating
giving her the answer, but not before leaning back on the foot
of the couch and scrutinizing her face once more, trying to call
her bluff. She didn't even flinch.
"I can't believe you or Murphy forgot to write down the
name of the animal in your report. And I remember those reports
quite well, Laura; there was no name for that dog." he said.
Laura smiled inwardly; maybe she could still win this one.
Steele, however, saw thought her faade. "But, of course,
if the dog had no name, you couldn't have asked *me* what its
name was, could you? I mean-- that would have been a trick question,"
he continued, and took yet another sip of wine, anticipating
his small victory.
Laura swallowed. Damn! He had it.
"So, I presume the dog indeed had a name. The problem, it
seems, was that its owner didn't have much of an imagination,
did she?" he said as he raised his glass in a toast again,
as he flashed a smile in Laura's direction. "She just called
him *Dog*."
Laura graciously smiled her defeat, as she in turn lifted her
glass to him.
"You were not playing fair, Laura," he said with a
husky voice as he came closer to her, reaching for her glass
and placing it on the carpet, beside his own. He then lifted
his hand to cup her jaw and locked his blue eyes on hers. "That
*was* a trick question."
"All is fair in love and war," she replied with a smile,
her lips inches away from his.
"Well, I don't know about war," he said at last, but
as she closed her eyes in anticipation, he drew slightly back.
"Beulah Bondi to James Stewart, It's a Wonderful Life, RKO,
1946," he said with a small smile as he closed the gap between
them and captured her lips in a kiss.
The End
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