Steele Untitled 1/?
Date: Tuesday, January 29, 2002 8:19

Sinead O'Byrne <SteeleaScarecrow@hotmail.com>

Here it is! 400 revisions, and countless fights with my computer have
finally produced this not-quite-masterpeice! As usual-I'd love to hear from
you! Tell me about it! Enjoy! Oh-and if anyone can come up with a title, I'd be most appreciative!
Sinead

Steele Untitled 1/?

Permission To Archive

Rating-currently G-PG but later on..........

I walked down the street, pausing only slightly as I looked up at the large
twin buildings in front of me. I gulped, and walked up to the door. I gave
the stout little man at the front desk a curt nod before walking into one of
the dual elevators and hitting the button for the 11th floor. It was quite
easy to spot the office I wanted, it was one of the largest. I straightened
up, and walked through the doors, to be greeted by the stout, plump blond
receptionist. I gulped, serving the dual purpose of lubricating my throat
and to swallow some of my nervousness. I didn't even know why I was so
nervous, after all, he WAS expecting me.

"Is Mr. Steele in?" I asked, as nonchalantly as possible.

"No, but his associate, Miss Holt is." The woman said. She had æFed' written
all over her. I'd learned to spot it a long time ago. So long it seemed like
another lifetime. A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away. I thought,
hiding my laughter with a poker face that had won me more than my fare
share.

"I'd very much prefer to see Mr. Steele in person. I can wait until he comes
in." The blond just shrugged and gestured towards the couch, and resumed
going through the mail. I picked up a magazine from the small stack on the
counter next to the couches, and starting flipping through it, noticing that
it was a good few weeks behind. Suddenly, a man burst through the glass
doors. You could almost feel his exuberant personality.

"Hello Mildred darling, is Miss Holt in?" He asked, his accent ringing true.

"Yes, but she's got a client meeting in five, and you have a client who
wants to speak to you alone right here." He turned in my direction. When he
saw me, he seemed almost at a loss for words. "My office, if you please." He
said, walking ahead of me to the right hand office. When he had closed the
door, positive that our conversation probably wouldn't be heard, he broke
into a grin, and hugged me. "Tabby! It's been ages! What are you doing
here?" I laughed as he rambled through his introduction.

"It HAS been a while, hasn't it, Harry? Well, I'm here in the states on
vacation, and figured since I've heard so much about you being here in LA
from Daniel, and from you, that I decided that a week here wouldn't hurt.
Besides, I heard that there's a very lucrative chance that you can meet some
of Hollywood's biggest here!"

"Vacation?"

"Duh! What'd you think, I was here trying to charm someone outta their life
savings? Nah, Harry, I'm past that! I'm here to see the sights as a
happy-go-lucky tourist!"

"So what do you do now?"

"Freelancing, mostly. Odd jobs here and there to help with the bills. But I
change hotels so often that they don't have anywhere to bill me!"

"Once a crook, always a crook, eh?"

"Hey, look who's talking, mate, you've gone from art thief extrodinaire to
LA's top PI! If that's not pulling the world's biggest con, I don't know
what is! But strangely, you're pulling a con while being on the straight and
narrow. Ironic, huh?"

"You always did spot the ironies, Tabitha."

"Yeah, well coming up with funny coincidences has helped me get some
articles published here and there. Wouldn't mind doing ANOTHER interview
with you!"

"Knowing you, you'd stick yourself in every other line, and mention my
past."

"Harry, come on mate! I have a large ego, yes, but I ain't no traitor!" I
said, starting to get a little testy.

"OK, OK. So why are you here, instead of out meeting Bryon Brown?"

"Well, I decided to be a decent person, unlike you, and stop by to meet my
nearest and dearest friend."

"I DID try and stop by your flat the last time I was in London, but you
weren't there."

"That would be the Earl Of Claridge incident. Care to comment?" I asked,
pulling out a tape recorder from my purse. The look of shock on his face was
more than enough to make me burst out laughing. "Care to go to lunch? Talk
about old times?" I asked him,
putting the small tool back in my bag.

"I only just arrived."

"Well, if you decided to learn that there ARE hours of the day before lunch,
then you
wouldn't be just arriving, now would you?"

"Old habits die hard, what can I say?"

"How about æI know a good pizza place around here, let's go!'?"

"I don't know any good pizza places, per say, but I DO know a good Italian
restaurant that serves pizza."

"Good, where is it, I have a sudden urge for pizza."

"You never really were one for quality, were you?"

"You mean, I never was one to pay 400 bucks for a meal, don't you?"

"That too."

"Yeah, well now you got this place to foot the bill. Always did enjoy having
someone else pay, huh?"

"I do pay for my own."

"When?"

"I will right now." I loved to egg him on. I'd always been able to get my
way with him when I provoked him enough. I wanted money, all I had to do was
tell him that he'd never give me a cent, then tell him prove it when he
said that he had. It worked every single time. He walked out, and it was all
I could do to keep up. "If Miss Holt comes back, I'm going out to lunch." He
told the secretary. Once we were again out of earshot, I looked up at him.

"The unflappable, irreplaceable, lovable, Mildred Krebs?" I asked him.

"Yes, that was Mildred."

"Defiantly was a former IRS. Could sense it."

"Tab, you could sense a car starting in Timbuktu!"

"Nah, I wouldn't sense a car starting. I'd sense the guy getting in, and
turning the key!" I said, a good-natured grin plastered to my face. When the
elevator came up, a woman who looked rather pissed walked out. She was about
to plow right through us, when she stopped.

""Laura! I thought you were supposed to be meeting a client!"

"I was supposed to be, until he decided not to show up! What were you
doing?"

"I was just about to go to lunch with Miss-uh-Tabitha.."He gave me a
panicked look.

"Blaine. Tabitha Blaine" I supplied. He gave me look, and I shrugged. "You
must be the infamous Laura Holt. Care to join us?" I asked, wanting to say
on her good side, if she had the temper that Harry said she had. She thought
about it for a minute, looking me over, before sighing, and turning around
to get back into the elevator. Lunch went smoothly, chatting about
absolutely nothing in particular. All safe and harmless topics, like the
weather. Right before we were about to leave, I got up to go to the
bathroom, and she decided to join me.

"All right, you know him from someplace else." She said, as I got out my
makeup compact.
"If you must know, yes, I've known Harry longer than he'd care to tell
anyone." She was good. I could see why she'd decided to be a PI, and not
give up on it, either.

"How long is that?"

"Since he was about oh, I'd say about 12." That was about right. I didn't
even know how
old he was know, let alone twenty some odd years ago.

"And why are you here?"

"My, my, my, aren't we inquisitive. Well, if you must know, I came here to
see the city, and decided to pay a visit on an old friend. I'm sure you'd do
the same, if you were in, oh say, Denver." I'd done it, I'd struck a nerve,
I was sure of it. At least she was good at maintaining her composure. I
thanked god for Harry being in the restaurant attached, and that he had
constantly wrote and called. It was the only way I'd known about Murphy.
He'd stayed so far in the background that I could hardly find anything on
him.

"Yes, I suppose I would do the same thing. And It's part of my job to be
inquisitive."

"It's part of mine to be inquisitive as well. How do you think I knew about
Murphy?"

"And what is that you do, Miss Blaine, if that's your real name."
"It's the one I use, yes. And I freelance. I decided to check out some stars
while I was at it. Now, Harry's probably wondering what's taking us so
long!" I said, returning to my usual devil-may-care self. He spotted
something wrong, and when we went back, he just told Laura that he'd see me
off.

"OK, what happened back at the resturant?"

"I don't think she trusts me, nor my intentions. I think it had something to
do with bringing up you dear old friend Murphy." He winced.

"You mentioned Murphy?"

"Yes. Now, you know any good hotels? I'm pretty jetlagged."

"Look, stay at my place until tonight, then go and find a hotel. Just
remember, make sure
you're out by tonight." He said, scrawling his address across a piece of
paper. "Here's where you can find me, but I'll have Fred drive you."

"OK Harry, see ya around, mate!"

"See you around." He said, hugging me again, as I climbed back into the
plush limo.

"Mr. Steele's apartment, Fred." I said, glancing up only slightly, noticing,
however the slight smile that played across his lips in the rearview mirror.
"Find something amusing?" I asked him.

"Well, it's just that you sounded almost exactly like Miss Holt does when
she says that."

"I do, do I? Tell me, is she always that wary of other people?"

"Well, it really isn't my place to say anythingàà."

"Come on, Fred, is she always that testy?"

"Around Mr. Steele, yes. I don't think she'd ever admit it, but she has a
jealous streak a mile long when it comes to him. They're head over heels for
each other, but they have yet to spot it."

"Thanks, Fred, I'm sure Har-Mr. Steele's honored to have someone like you as
personal chauffeur." I said, getting out. I had managed to catch my slip
almost immediately.

"Well, if you ever need a ride while you're in LA, give me a call, and I'll
see what I can do. Any friend of Mr. Steele's is a friend of mine." I
grinned, and walked into the elevator.

"I'm god's gift to the reporting world!" I praised myself as I walked to 5A.
I pulled out my lock-pick kit as I remembered that Harry hadn't left me a
key. "I AM INVINCEABLE!" I laughed as I shouted the phrase after closing
the door. "Nothing I can't do, can't weasel out of!" Walking over to his
kitchen, I threw open the fridge. "Let's see if the gourmet keeps
leftovers!" I looked over all the shelves, pulling up the occasional piece
of tin foil that covered a bowl here, a pot there. "Oooooo! Canard au vin
rouge!" I said, pulling out the tray. Spotting a microwave, I quickly
transferred the remaining half of the duck to a plate, and stuck it in.

I spent the time waiting for it to reheat checking out his apartment. It
really was quite nice. Nothing to sneeze at. Checking the bedroom, I
wondered if Harry and Laura had ever spent the night together there, until I
remembered him complaining about how she wanted a commitment, and was rather
reluctant to get laid with him. "OK Tabitha O'Sullivan Chalmers Blaine,
let's see if you've still got the touch!" I said, removing my watch, I
quickly set it to time, and hit it to start, while proceeding to open the
first drawer of the dresser. I felt through it, my eyes scanning it quickly.
Nothing. I repeated the process with the second drawer, again coming up
empty handed. But, upon trying my luck a third time, I found the familiar
leather of a passport, and pulled it out. I tried again, and found the other
four I knew he had. I moved onto the nightstand. I found nothing new, mostly
old files that he'd probably taken home to look at, and forgot about. The
other nightstand was where things got interesting.

I immediately felt the smooth crushed velvet of something that I wished I
knew better. A ring box. I popped it open. Inside was a diamond ring, with
small baguettes of a purple jewel. Upon closer inspection, I realized
exactly what it was. Royal Lavulite. I laughed, realizing that the jewel had
been what brought Harry and Laura together. He'd gone to steal it, and came
back, or stayed rather, as Remington Steele, Los Angeles' finest detective.
I sighed, and realized that the clock was still ticking, and moved onto the
bathroom. Inside was absolutely nothing of value, and walked back out,
checking the watch. 5 minutes, not bad, not bad at all.

Of course, I had also completely skipped the closet, knowing that the only
thing that Harry ever kept in their was unvaluable odds and ends, like
suits, suitcases, tennis rackets, sketchbooks- on second thought, I went to
the hall closet. I quickly found the familiar yellow covered book, I had one
just like it in my bag, which was in my rented Porsche, at his office
parking lot. I flipped through it, nothing much, mostly landscapes, but they
were dated early 1982, once I got to October, they started to take on a more
serious tone, before completely becoming drawings of Laura. A little later,
he started doing the odd landscape thrown in with a few drawings of Laura.
He was one of the best artists I knew, he could've been a damn good forger
if he decided to, but the most I'd seen him do was a copy of one of the
paintings in Daniel's study. The microwave beeped, to signal that it was
done, and I had a feast on the duck.

There was a system to most things, dogs chase cats, mice eat cheese, and I
got hungry every two hours. It was mostly to make up for the fact that I
scrounged around between jobs, I took a free ride whenever it was offered.
It was harder to get a break as a writer than it looked, and I never missed
an opportunity. I supposed that Laura could be a good interview, and I
decided to ask her about it. I put the sketchbook back, and crossed over to
his bookcase where I pulled out an interesting looking book. I got hooked on
it over my snack, and before I knew it, I was sprawled out across his bed,
despite the lumpy mattress, and almost done with the book. I quickly
finished it, and felt the effects of coming here from Asia, Japan to be
exact. I had been working my way east from England. I could feel my eyes
starting to close, and I jerked the covers up over my head. I was out like a
light. The next thing I knew, I was being shaken awake by Harry.

"TABITHA O'SULLIVAN BLAINE! GET OUT OF THAT BED NOW!" He shouted into me
ear.

"Thanks for destroying my eardrum, Harry."

"Well, I don't appreciate coming home to find plates strewn across my table,
and you in my bed, especially not with Laura in tow."

"God, Harry, what time is it?" I asked stifling a yawn.

"About 9 PM."

"9! Holy shit! I'm sorry man, I seriously did not intend to sleep that long.
I told you I shoulda gotten a hotel."

"They're hell to book in the middle of the day, besides, Mildred found a
spot for you, she had nothing better to do. I hope you don't mind her
digging on you, it's her idea of fun."

"Why shouldn't she? I have a folder about 6 inches thick on her! And what
hotel?"

"The Berkshire."

"Under Blaine?"

"What did you expect? O'Sullivan?"

"It IS my real surname."

"You haven't used that since I met you."

"You mean since I was forced in the same house as you. Daniel had to drag
you kicking and screaming back into the house when you found out that I was
staying."

"And as I remember you were ready to go back either to New York or Ireland."

"Well, I AM Irish."

"But born and raised in New York, 4th generation immigrant."

"Born in NY, raised in England, from 10 to 25 I was with you and Daniel."

"Sorry that I don't meet your requirements for detail." I gave him a light
punch on the shoulder, and looked at the open bedroom door.

"You know, your Miss Holt's probably heard every word we've said?"

"Knowing her, she's heard every word, and then some!"

"Well then, I must get to know her better, she'd be invaluable to a
reporter! Tell me, Harry, does she do interviews? She'd make a great cover
story. How does the front page of TIME sound to you? I can see it now-
Remington Steele Investigations, America's Top PI Firm, exclusive
interviews by Tabitha Blaine! I'd get the Pulitzer!"

"You're plagued with visions of adequacy!"

"HEY! That was MY line, against you! Now come on, your date's waiting
outside!" I said walking through the door, finding Laura graciously draped
across his couch. "I'm terribly sorry Miss Holt, but Harry is so kind that
he offered me his flat until I could book a hotel, but I have overstayed my
welcome, I'm leaving now." I said, playing all my charm.

"Wait one minute, Miss Blaine."

"Tabitha, please."

"Well then Tabitha, may I have a word with you in private?" I looked over at
Harry. He shrugged, and walked out of the room, into the kitchen, probably
to prepare a gourmet dessert.

"Miss Holt, what is that word you had for me?"

"How do you really know him? Only people from his past call him Harry."

"Like I said, I've known him since I was twelve."

"How'd you meet him?"

"Long story."

"Make it short."

"Geez, you're worse than he is when he decides to play a slightly shady
shamus named Spade!"

"He's done the impression before?

"Hell yes! You know how annoying it was, to have a fifteen year old running
around using that horrible accent!"

"He's gotten worse with age! The best was he was trying to roll cigarettes
in the back of the limo." We both laughed at this.

"I feel sorry for Fred, and for you for having to put up with that."

"Well, Tabitha, as I was saying how'd you meet him?"

"Put it this way, Daniel had his hands full with raising other people's
kids."

"You were under his watch too?"

"Yup. He still does watch me like a hawk when he can. Same with Harry, only
difference is, I always got the impression that he favored Harry more." I
knew why Daniel favored Harry more as well, but I wasn't going to disclose
it now. "Harry's problem though, I hate it when Daniel breathes down my
neck, but he has a knack for finding things out, great resource for a
reporter."

"A reporter you say, what do you report for, newspapers?"

"Just about everything!" Then I looked up, and realized that Harry was still
waiting for the a-OK to come out. "YO! Harry man, what's taking ya so long?
You're date's waiting, and I though you were a gentleman!" I said, my grin
plastered to my face.

"CAT! Now get out!"

"Call me Cat again and I defiantly won't."

"Get out now Cat, or I'll kick you out!"

"Sheesh! All right already Harry, be that way. Ciao, See ya mates!" I said,
giving them a grin and a wave before walking out.

To Part 2

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