Date: Saturday, 04 October, 2003
From: "Steele Chic" <>

Hi all, how is everyone??

So I was flying back from Vancouver to Toronto today and I had the sudden urge to write. I tried to ressurect that piece that I left in Virgina with a friend way back when in Feburary. DOn't know how successful my attempt was as I suspect the first version was superior but at any rate, the gist is still there. Feedback is always appreciated. Please send any thought to

So the first little piece is Steele-oriented and can be archived... Those of you who have followed my work from the beginning might remember the origins of the littlest Steele who makes an appearance in the first piece.


In the darkened room, smoke drifts slowly towards the ceiling. Remington Steele puffs thoughtfully on his pipe, watching his beloved Laura sleep.

Her auburn hair is fanned out on the pillow behind her, her head turned slightly to the side. Her right arm is flung haphazardly above her head in a pose suggesting utter abandonment, a complete contrast to the carefully controlled existence she tries to lead in her wakeful hours.

Her left leg is drawn up so that the instep of her foot rests comfortably against the curve of her right calf, the fingers of her left hand splayed over her hip.

Remington smiles as he recognises the pose. It's the same one favoured by their three-year-old daughter, Aislinn. Every bit her mother's daughter, the stubborn, raven-haired, little urchin is undoubtably the light of their lives and yet, Remington gazes wistfully at the slight slope of Laura's belly, barely visible beneath the clinging night gown, and wonders whether someday soon they might add to their clan.

His smile widens when he thinks of how Laura would hate to know how often he sits like this, watching her at her most vulnerable, sleeping like an angel, with no visible traces of the hellcat she can sometimes be.

Remington marvels at his good fortune, knowing that life couldn't get any better than this. And in the darkened room, smoke drifts slowly towards the ceiling.

The End