Standard Disclaimers apply...
Thanks to Judy for the inspiration.
Permission to archive.
Bernice Foxe looked up from her freshly
painted nails as a young
courier entered the office.
"May I help you?" she asked.
"I have a delivery for Remington Steele," the young man said.
"I'll take it," Bernice answered, reaching for his clipboard.
"I was told to give it directly
to Mr. Steele," he replied, snatching
the board and the attached envelope back from her grasp.
Bernice rolled her eyes.
"Mr. Steele is a very busy man,"
she insisted. If the truth were to
be told, he hadn't bothered to show up yet. Before she was forced
to
come up with yet another excuse for her mythical superior, the
man
himself breezed into the office.
"Good afternoon, Miss Wolfe,"
he said with a smile that confirmed he
was fully aware of the misnomer.
"Mr. Steele?" asked the young man standing in front of him.
"At your service," Steele answered.
"This is for you," the courier
said, handing him the envelope. He
thrust his clipboard forward, "Sign here."
Steele signed for the delivery and
turned toward his office,
indicating for Bernice to tip the young man. Closing the door
behind
him, Remington Steele made his way to his desk and sat down. He
turned
the envelope in his hands. He looked at the thick scrawl across
the
front. It simply said, "Remington Steele." Something
told him that
whatever was in the envelope was intended for him and not for
Laura's
Remington Steele---and he didn't know why, but that made him very
nervous. He set the envelope down on the desk and stared at it.
After
several long moments, he picked it up and tore it open. He took
out a
sheet of paper and unfolded it. As he opened the paper, he noticed
something fall out onto his desk. It was a small piece of green
porcelain and it seemed to be shaped like a leaf. He held it in
his
hand as he read the words on the page.
*Remington Steele suits you, but if
you want to know who you REALLY
are, be at the north entrance to the Griffith Park Observatory
at 7:30
pm.*
He folded the paper and put the note
back in its envelope. He slid the
envelope into his inner jacket pocket and held the porcelain leaf
in
his hand as he contemplated his next move. Did he meet the bugger
at
the Observatory, or was it time to take his leave? If someone
knew
that he wasn't really Remington Steele and they were willing to
expose
that fact, Laura could get hurt and that was the last thing he
wanted.
Instantly he knew he'd be making the meeting. He wasn't ready
to go
anywhere just yet. He was enjoying being Remington Steele. He
was
enjoying Laura Holt.
*~*~*
"Is he in?" Laura asked as she and Murphy entered the suite of offices.
"In there," Bernice said,
nodding toward the door of Remington
Steele's office. "And he's been awfully quiet."
Murphy shook his head as Laura made
her way into the executive office.
He waited until she'd gone inside before voicing his thoughts.
"What does she see in that guy?"
he asked, more rhetorically than
anything.
Bernice knew better than to answer.
Remington Steele was everything
that Murphy Michaels was not. Suave. Debonair. Sophisticated.
Mysterious. Exciting. She knew that Laura loved the thrill of
the
chase as much as their Mr. Steele did.
Murphy was handsome in a rugged yet boyish way and he was a great
person, but he lacked the sort of elegance that fairly exuded
from
Remington Steele.
She felt sorry for Murphy because
she knew that he harbored feelings
for Laura… and Laura saw him as just a friend, or a big brother.
Laura
Holt only had eyes for Remington Steele.
*~*~*
"What's that?" Laura asked
as she entered the office, indicating
whatever it was that he was rolling around in his hand.
"What?" Remington replied,
obviously distracted. He then realized she
was referring to the leaf, and went on, "Oh… nothing."
He slipped the piece of porcelain
into his pocket and turned his focus
to the woman standing before him. What was it about Laura Holt
that
captivated him so? She was so different from the women who usually
attracted him, yet here he was. He'd been in Los Angeles going
on six
months. He couldn't remember any place he'd stayed that long before---
except of course, with Daniel.
She was definitely beautiful, but
there was so much more to the
attraction than that. Laura excited him, but that wasn't really
the
lure, either. He'd been enthralled in the thrill of the chase
before,
but Laura was special. Because of her, for the first time in his
life,
he wanted to stay. From his first interaction with her, here
in this
very office when he'd pretended to mistake her for a secretary,
he
knew Laura had a hold on him. That night in the hotel suite, when
she'd told him he made a delightful Remington Steele, he'd felt
the
first stirrings of longing for something real---something he could
have with Laura Holt. But it wasn't until he got into that airport
taxi that he realized he didn't want to leave her. The longer
he spent
in Los Angeles, the more he began to think that he couldn't ever
leave
her.
His name had never been very important
to him. In fact, he'd often
enjoyed the idea of slipping into a new role in every new situation.
He had found himself settling nicely into the guise of Remington
Steele. He'd even begun to think of himself as Remington Steele…
but
Laura wanted to know his real name. She'd begun asking on a fairly
regular basis. So far, he'd been able to evade her questions.
How
could he tell her that he didn't even know the answer himself?
Laura. He vaguely remembered she was standing in front of him.
"How was your meeting?" he asked, remembering that she
and Murphy had
gone to meet with their newest client.
"It went well," Laura answered,
studying him. Bernice had said he had
been quiet. He was obviously troubled. She'd been standing in
front of
him for several minutes and he'd made no attempt at seduction.
In
fact, he'd barely acknowledged her presence. "How was your
morning?"
she asked him. "Anything interesting happen?"
Laura walked toward the desk as she
spoke. They had been seeing each
other outside the office for a little while now. She didn't know
if
she'd actually say they were "dating," and she was still
terrified of
having more than a business relationship with him---but there
had been
a definite shift in their interactions of late. It was Friday
and she
was looking forward to the evening they had planned. He was taking
her
to a late supper and a midnight showing of "Casablanca"
at the Vista.
She'd never really been a fan of old movies but Mr. Steele loved
them,
especially the ones he called "film noir." Despite herself,
she'd
found she had developed an increasing fondness for Humphrey Bogart.
"Nothing too exciting,"
Remington answered. The conversation was
awkward. He didn't even feel like flirting with the lovely Miss
Holt---and as luck would have it, she was in a decidedly
unbusinesslike mood. What did she want? Plans. They had plans
for the
evening. Casablanca. He smiled. "Are you ready for our evening?"
Laura nodded. "Yes," she
told him, "I'm actually looking forward to
it. I don't know what it is about you and Bogie, Mr. Steele, but
you're becoming an irresistible combination." *Did I just
say that out
loud?*
"Oh really, Laura?" he responded
with a smile and a raised eyebrow.
*I'll have to remember that for use later on.* "If that's
the case,
then I'm sure you're going to have quite an enjoyable evening.
"Casablanca" was Bogart at his best."
"And you, Mr. Steele?" Laura asked, blushing slightly.
"Why, I'm always at my best,
Miss Holt," Remington answered, matching
her flirtatious tone. He glanced down at his watch, and then turned
back to Laura. "I have an errand to run, but I'll pick you
up at 9:00."
*~*~*
Remington approached the entrance
to the Observatory, warily glancing
around him. His years on the street, coupled with months of shadowing
Laura and Michaels, had taught him to always be aware of his
surroundings. There was no one about, which seemed odd for this
time
of night. Slowly, he walked up to the door, only to find it locked.
He
noticed a sign on the door that said the Observatory had been
closed
for the past week for renovations. No wonder the place seemed
so
deserted.
He looked down at a bench next to
the door and found an envelope
bearing his name, or the name that he was coming to know as his
own.
He picked it up and turned it over. This time, the envelope was
held
together by a wax seal bearing a coat of arms. He sat down on
the
bench and once again found himself staring at the envelope. He
ran his
finger under the flap and broke the seal. He pulled out the note
and
another piece of green porcelain fell into his hand. He held it
as he
read the note:
*All is not as it seems. Be at the
Hollywood Bowl, Center Section,
Back Row - Monday at noon.*
"What the bloody hell?"
Remington wondered out loud at the cryptic
note. He looked around again for any sign of who may have left
the
note. Finding none, he tucked the envelope into his pocket and
made
his way back to the parking lot where Fred was waiting to take
him to
pick up Laura.
*~*~*
Laura was startled by the ringing
of the doorbell. She looked down at
her watch. He was early. She wasn't quite ready yet. It had taken
forever to decide what to wear. What did one wear to a midnight
showing of a forty year old movie? With anyone else her jeans
and
sweater would have been fine, but with the man she called Remington
Steele, Laura had a feeling she'd be woefully underdressed. She
was
pleasantly surprised when she opened the door to find a very casually
clad Remington Steele staring down at her. He was wearing jeans
and a
sweater that was just the perfect shade of blue to set his eyes
blazing. She had to remind herself to breathe. She seemed to find
herself in that position a lot lately.
"Mr. Steele," she said,
stepping aside to allow him entry. "I'm not
quite ready, but I won't be a minute."
"I'm sorry," he replied.
"I am a bit early; my errand didn't take as
long as I thought it might."
Remington wandered into Laura's living
room as she disappeared into
the bedroom. He ran his hand along the back of the sofa and looked
down into the amber eyes of a black cat who was very obviously
trying
to intimidate him.
"I understand, mate," he
said quietly to the feline. "I don't like to
share, either."
Before he could say anything else
and get caught having a conversation
with her cat, Laura appeared from the other room.
"All set," she said, walking toward him.
"You look lovely," Steele
answered, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
"Shall we?" Laura asked, as she took her keys out of
her purse.
They stood quietly on the front porch
as Laura locked the door behind
them. She looked up and sighed as she saw the limo sitting in
her
driveway. It was Friday night and it would be well after 2 am
when
they got out of the movie. Fred would be getting triple golden
time
for this.
"Why don't we take my car?"
she suggested. "After all, it is Friday
night. We should let Fred enjoy his weekend."
"Sounds wonderful, Miss Holt,"
Steele agreed. Even though he had been
looking forward to a late night drive with Laura in the back of
the
limo, he also rather liked the idea of the two of them being
completely alone. He reached for the keys, "May I?"
She nodded, handing him the key ring
as he walked to the driver's door
and dismissed Fred for the evening.
"Where are we going?" Laura
asked as they drove down the quiet streets
of her neighborhood. She knew Mr. Steele's culinary taste ran
to the
exquisite ---that they were neither dressed for nor did she want
anything that heavy this late at night.
"A little place on Sunset," Remington answered. "Fred62."
"Fred62?" Laura asked with surprise. "That's not your usual style."
"Ah but Laura, one must always
be prepared to broaden one's horizons.
Fred's is a landmark. A quaint slice of Americana. Plus, it's
next to
the theatre and I assumed you wouldn't want a heavy gourmet meal
this
late at night."
He was right, she didn't. Laura smiled
as she wondered if her Mr.
Steele would ever cease to amaze her.
"Good choice," she said, leaning back to enjoy the evening breeze.
tbc