I've decide that I don't hate it. So, with the anticipated release of Season 3, better known as the Yo Yo season to some...
Remember In a later episode, w/Mulch & Courtney Doll when Steele refers to 'overstepping' and 'only being human'... I had this scene in mind:
(Thanks to Krebbie and the episode guide for the first part)
The next evening, Steele lets Laura into the apartment. "So. Hi," he says nervously. She seems nervous as well.
"Hello, good evening," he repeats, closing the door behind her. "There's enough food left over from last night to feed a gourmet army," he tells her as they walk toward the balcony door.
"Where's Eloise?" Laura asks.
"Uh, the truth?"
"I know this was meant to be a make up dinner for Bill and Eloise,-" he begins as they go onto the balcony. "She's very sweet, very willing, easy to please, but- kinda takes the fun out of it, you know?" They laugh. "Bill parking his Z?"
"Uh, I didn't invite him," she admits.
"Why not?" he asks as they stop beside a table laid for four.
"I learned one thing about Bill," she tells him. "He, uh, he lacks something. Tacky mystery," she says.
Steele grins, and Laura taps the fork he's holding with a fork.
The extra place setting was hastily removed by Mr. Steele. A satisfying smile surfaced out of Laura's view as he returned to the kitchen. He removed the chilled plates from the fridge and stopped himself mid-whistle while pepper grinding. He did not want to appear too delighted or too hopeful by the opportunity of the two of them alone.
Laura stared at the two remaining place settings separated by a candlelit centerpiece with a bottle of champagne chilling nearby. Two place settings. Laura summed up the dining situation. Two, as in 'just him and me'. Two as in 'too cozy' Two, as is 'bad idea'. She sighed heavily.
"Something wrong?" Remington returned carrying two salad plates.
Too late to back out, she resolved. "No. . . not at all." Laura quickly recovered.
He set down the plates. And despite Laura recently voicing disapproval of the chivalrous act, he pulled out a chair for her. He was a gentleman after all. And like it or not, he was going to treat her like a lady.
Laura thanked him in a whisper. She flicked open her napkin and laid it across her lap, "Thanks to Nick and Nora, we never got past the salad last night. So, what is on the menu tonight, Mr. Steele?" Laura picked up her fork aiming it at the plate of greens.
Remington lifted the bottle and poured while tantalizing Laura with the carte du jour "Grilled shrimp on a bed of wild rice prepared with slivers of toasted almonds. The chef has also selected julienne-cut green beans with prosciutto in a butter sauce."
Betrayed by her appetite and his delicious description, Laura smiled, "Hmmmm, all my favorites."
Remington discreetly acknowledged handing her a glass, "I know." He said it in such a gentle, understated tone that spoke volumes; more than two words ever could.
Pleasant conversation over dinner avoided any mention of their non-invited dates. Neither Laura nor Remington, want to be reminded they had settled for less in their social life than what they both wanted. It was also painfully unpleasant to realize that someone else was had taken a place that was rightfully theirs. Laura placed her napkin aside. She took a sip then clutched the glass with both hands close to her chest. She closed her eyes and inhaling deeply, she let her head fall back. Remington's attention was drawn to her neck. With her hair pulled up and away and the candlelight cast an alluring glow, images came flooding to his mind. But not just images, more like memories; the way she tasted, her soft sensuous skin, the powerful sensation her rhythmic pulse, the subtle moans and the way her body melted into submission when he ventured near the hollow where her throat meets the top of her breast bone. To think that was only her neck. . . and there were so much more of Laura Holt yet to be explored.
Laura opened her eyes to look at the clear vast sky above. "Beautiful night, isn't it?"
Remington didn't hear her. His mind was still tormenting him with an ill-advised daydream. It wasn't until Laura turned her head to find him staring that he realized she said something, "I'm sorry. . . What?"
"I said it's a beautiful night." Laura made a gesture at the heavens.
"Yes. . . Yes it certainly is beautiful." Remington then forced himself to refocus. He stood and began to gather the dishes from the table, "I think you'll especially enjoy the dessert."
Laura started to get up to help him. With plates in hand, he could not put his hands on her shoulders to have her stay put, so he just bent over behind her, planted a kiss on the top of her head. "Stay. I've got it."
Remington appeared moments later to collect a few more plates. When he reappeared a third time, he had a towel draped over his forearm, and addressed Laura in a very formal manner, "The double chocolate mousse cake will be out shortly. What would the lady like with her dessert? Coffee is available, however, the chef recommends the unusually pleasant and dark 1979 Banyuls Domaine de Mas Blanc. A savory explosion when combined with the decadence of chocolate."
Laura was being tempted by a couple of dark, pleasant and decadent things at the moment. Alcohol would only exacerbate her weakness for both. "I think I'd better take the coffee." She decided.
"Very well, I shall be right back." He once again headed inside. Reaching from behind her, Remington set a colossal piece of cake swimming in warm chocolate sauce in front of Laura. "Coffee is brewing," he explained as he placed an empty cup and saucer to her right.
"This is way too much for me." Laura nudged the dessert plate, "You take this one and I'll get myself a smaller piece." She placed her hands on the armrests to boost herself.
This time with his hands free, Remington stopped her from getting up by putting his hands on her shoulders. "Don't bother. I'll just get myself a fork and we'll share."
"Share?" She bent back to look up at him, once again exposing a good portion of that neck of hers.
"Like we used to. Remember? The baklava, at that Greek place you like."
"Well, it was just too tempting to go there and not have their specialty. When you want something bad enough, sometimes it's prudent to just compromise." Laura reasoned, still craning over her shoulder to speak to him.
Who is tempting who here? And talk about wanting something bad enough!
This time he acted on his fantasy. His right hand moved to lightly caress just inside her collar as he leaned forward to kiss the opposite side. Starting just beneath the ear, Remington softly pressed his lips down the firm column of flesh until he felt the vibrant throb of her carotid. There, he increased the pressure, using his tongue. Laura reached back with her right hand. At first she was going to move his hand away, but when he did that thing with his tongue, she involuntarily found herself massaging his hand, urging him to continue.
In an ragged whisper, Remington admitted, "Laura, I don't want to compromise anymore."
This was exactly what Laura feared when her instincts warned her earlier that dinner for two was a bad idea. She abruptly stood. She wasn't angry, just noticeably uncomfortable "I don't think we should have dessert, Mr. Steele."