Steele Ahead of Their Time
Date: Friday, November 17, 2006
"Lori" <>

Thanks again to Debra for her invaluable help and to Lea for her insights as well.

For entertainment purposes only, characters from "Remington Steele" and scene from "Steele in Circulation" used without permission.

Permission to Archive


Steele Ahead of Their Time


Laura Holt and Remington Steele were laughing as they exited his
office. They stopped when Bernice Fox confronted them.

"All right. That's it. Now, I want to know what's been happening
here," Bernice demanded.

"Ah, let's see," Steele answered, tugging on his ear. "We prevented a
man from committing suicide, although trying to commit suicide
actually saved his life…"

"…and we broke into a bank…" Laura added.

"…and we helped to see that more than two and a half million dollars
was properly destroyed," Remington said, summing up their weekend.

"Come on, I'm serious," Bernice said in disbelief.

"Well, I'd like to elaborate Miss Wolfe," Steele said, putting his arm
around Laura's shoulders and pulling her close. "But right now, Miss
Holt and I have a pressing conversation to complete."

"Well, should I even bother to make the coffee?" Bernice asked.

"Uh, no thanks," Laura answered, turning her gaze to Mr. Steele.
"We'll be having tea."


When they arrived at his apartment, Remington wasn't sure exactly what
to do next. He and Laura hadn't said much on the way from the office.
As he busied himself in the kitchen, he remembered Laura's words to
Miss Wolfe. He thought that maybe a pot of tea was in order. They
could sit down, have some tea and continue their very important
conversation. He did want to talk. He wanted to know everything about
Laura…her dreams… her desires. He had wanted Laura from the very
start. That had been his game in the beginning---pursuing her. No
other woman had ever resisted him the way that Laura had, which of
course made him want her even more. Remington didn't know exactly when
things had changed, but when he almost lost her on that beam the night
before, many things became clear. There was no doubt that he wanted
her, but what he felt for Laura Holt was so much more than physical.
She had stolen his heart.

Laura sat back on the sofa as Remington carried in a silver tray with
a full tea service.

"Tea, Miss Holt?" he asked, setting the tray down on the coffee table.

She only nodded, watching him. Though she had made that remark to
Bernice, she didn't expect Remington to make tea for her. She wasn't
sure what she had expected, although she was fairly certain it would
involve tearing each other's clothes off. What was it about this man
that stripped her of all her inhibitions? She thought about their kiss
in the wine cellar at St. Costello's Monastery, when she had admitted
to feeling too much too soon. She had wanted him then. Hell, she'd
wanted him practically since the moment they had met. Itchy, that was
what she had told Bernice. She was itchy to be with this man. But last
night, something changed. It was more than just fantasizing what it
would be like to make love with him. She realized that her feelings
went deeper than that. When she had fallen off that beam, she realized
that she might never have the chance to share more than a case or a
fleeting kiss with this beautiful mysterious stranger who had become
so important to her. She wanted more. She needed more.

Remington poured the tea and watched Laura's face. There was something
playing behind her eyes, as if she were having some inner dialogue. He
braced himself for the fact that he may be about to be put off yet
again, and then she spoke.

"This is lovely, Mr. Steele," she said, sipping her tea. "But tea
isn't really what I had in mind." *Reign it in, Laura*, she thought to
herself. This boldness was a side of her that few people saw - and she
meant to keep it that way.

"Right you are, Miss Holt," he answered, sitting down beside her. "I
believe we have a conversation to finish. Something about shared
fantasies…" He leaned in to kiss her.

She accepted his kiss in a way that she never had before and returned
it with equal passion. He had always thought that she wanted him as he
did her, but one could never be too sure of anything with Laura.
Although she called him a man of mystery, she herself was quite an

As the kiss ended, she looked into his deep blue eyes. "It's obvious,
I think…" she began, "…that we share a common goal…" She turned her
gaze to her teacup.

He studied her with rapt interest as she continued. She was trying so
hard to maintain a cool façade, but she was even more beautiful when
she was flustered.

"…but we never seem to be in the same place at the same time or at
least never when it's convenient. So we've put it off…" Laura went on.

"…because we assume we'll both be around when the proper time comes,"
Remington interjected, repeating her words from the night before as he
kissed her again.

"And we know there are no guarantees," she said breathlessly. This
time, she initiated the kiss. It was a deep, penetrating kiss.

"We owe it to ourselves," he said, kissing her softly, "to explore the

As he kissed her, his hands began pulling her sweater from the waist
of her trousers. He ran his hands up underneath it and she melted at
his touch. When the kiss ended, he pulled the sweater up over her
head. He looked at her with eyes full of desire . . . along with
something he had never felt before, and did not quite understand. He
had never wanted a woman as much, and he knew that was because he had
never felt this much.

"So beautiful," he said softly.

She stood, holding her hand out to him. She led him into his bedroom.
There was no going back now.


Laura awoke with a start. She looked over at the dark form sleeping
next to her. If it was possible he was even better looking as he
slept, his features bathed in sunlight. She smiled as she watched him.
She couldn't believe that she was here, in his bed. She had told
herself a million times that they shouldn't, they couldn't cross that
line. She had wanted him, but felt that acting on that desire would
have been foolish - selfish, even. It was for the good of the agency,
she had told herself. He was actually becoming a competent detective
and she feared they would never be able to work together if they
became lovers.

*What now?* she wondered. Wild and crazy Laura had struck again.
Making love with Remington had been incredible and although it was
like nothing she had ever experienced, Laura was terrified that she
had made a huge mistake. The old Laura acted on her impulses and
worried about the consequences later. But the current Laura, who was
more interested in her agency and playing it safe than in her own
needs and desires, would never have allowed herself to go to bed with
Remington Steele. She needed time to think.

She slipped quietly out of his bed, careful not to wake him. Gathering
her clothes, she tiptoed out of the room and closed the door quietly
behind her. She dressed in the quiet living room, and then collected
her jacket and her purse and left the apartment. As she reached the
parking lot, she was grateful she had the foresight to insist they
take the Rabbit instead of having Fred drive them. She contemplated
her next move as she drove home through the busy afternoon traffic.


Remington stretched and reached for Laura, but all he found was a cold
pillow. He sat up and considered calling out or going to look for her,
but quickly realized that her clothes were no longer on the floor. He
didn't have to get out of bed to know that she was gone. He leaned
back against the headboard, his hands clasped behind his head. In the
past, he had been the one who left, having been temporarily sated and
not needing any sort of any emotional attachment.

He had wanted to spend the night with Laura. He had wanted to wake up
with her, to lay entwined in her arms and discuss what fantasy they
could fulfill next. However, that was the mystery of Laura Holt - each
time he thought he knew her, there was another twist in the plot.


Laura arrived at home, but she couldn't focus on anything but what had
happened that morning. She needed to clear her head, so she decided to
go for a run. When she was running, she could either block out
everything or solve the world's problems. It had always been her peace
and solitude, but not on this particular Monday evening.

Tonight, she couldn't get Remington out of her head. Part of her was
afraid that she would never see him again, but another part was afraid
that she would. Being with him had not sated her curiosity; if
anything, she wanted him more now because she knew what she would be
missing. Could they still work together? Would he even want to? What
would happen if Remington Steele suddenly disappeared? The agency was
her life's work and she would not let it go without a fight.

That night sleep eluded her, she spent most of the night sitting at
her dining room table, drinking coffee and planning her next move. So,
early Tuesday morning, Laura steeled her resolve and pushed her way
through the doors of Suite 1157. She was a professional; she could
make this work. At least she had Murphy there for a buffer. It would
all work out---it had to.

"I didn't expect to see you so early this morning," Bernice said to
her, looking up from her desk.

"And why not?" Laura asked, back to trying to maintain that cool façade.

"Laura," Bernice said, glaring at her with a look that told her to
remember who she was talking to.

Ignoring her, Laura asked, "Do I have any appointments this morning?"

Bernice decided to let it drop, for now. "Yes," she answered, looking
down at her calendar. "Mr. Metzger will be here at 9:30 - he's a
reschedule from yesterday. You're back to back until lunch."

"Thanks, Bernice," Laura said, picking up the mail and heading to her

No sooner had the door closed than Bernice looked up to see a
deliveryman. He was carrying what had to be at least three dozen red
roses. She smiled, knowing it was par for the course with a man whose
opening move had been a magnum of champagne. In spite of herself, she
was growing fond of the blue-eyed stranger and he seemed to be good
for Laura, too.

She signed for the flowers and tipped the man from her petty cash
fund. When she was alone again, she carried the flowers into Laura's
office without bothering to knock and set her burden down on Laura's desk.

"Now are you going to tell me?" she asked, sitting in the chair
opposite Laura's desk. She stared at her friend with a look of bemused

"Oh, Bernice," Laura said with a sigh, covering her face with her
hands. When she removed her hands, she gave the other woman a
conspiratorial grin.

"You didn't!"

Laura nodded and Bernice's eyes grew wide.

"Well? How WAS it?"

Laura's grin grew wider and she raised her eyebrows as she said,
"Let's just say it might be time for a dentist's appointment."

When Laura stood and reached for the card in the roses, Bernice
uncharacteristically decided to give her some privacy. "I'll go get
you some coffee," she said, leaving the room.

Laura held the card in her hand and inhaled the scent of the roses.
They were lovely, and the gesture was so "him." She smiled as she
realized she still didn't know what to call him. Although he had said
he'd become accustomed to the name, he wasn't Remington Steele. She
blushed as she remembered calling out "Mr. Steele" in the heat of
passion. They would have to work on what to call him outside the
office, assuming of course that they would be pursuing this relationship.


In the outer office, Bernice rolled her eyes as Murphy Michaels walked
in grinning from ear to ear. Was she the only one around there not
getting any?

"Morning, Murphy," she greeted him.

"Hey, Bernice," he said in reply. "Is Laura in yet?"

"She's in her office."

Murphy walked over to Laura's office and entered without knocking. She
was lost in thought and smiling fondly as she looked at the card she
held in her hand. He couldn't help but see the enormous bouquet of
flowers on her desk and knew instantly who had sent them.

"What's he done this time?" he asked.

"Who?" Laura replied, looking up at him.

"Steele," Murphy glared. "He must have really screwed up to send
something like that."

He noticed the blush returning to his partner's face and realized that
the flowers might not have been an apology at all. Deciding he didn't
want to know, he changed the subject.

"So," he said tentatively, "what did you think of Sherry?"

"She seemed nice," Laura answered. "Quite flexible - and smart, too.
I don't think I would have wanted one of your usual dates along on a
bank heist."

Murphy winced and Laura grinned.

"I think the question is, what do YOU think of her, Murph?"

"I really like her, Laura."

"I'm happy for you, Murph. I've always said you needed a strong,
intelligent woman."

Murphy smiled at the irony of her statement, considering he had always
thought that, as well… but he'd had a different woman in mind.


It was nearly 9:30 when Remington Steele breezed through the office
door. Smiling, he greeted the receptionist.

"Good Morning, Miss Wolfe."

"I'm sure it is," she retorted as he headed toward Laura's office.
"She's got a client coming in any minute."

"Stall," he instructed her over his shoulder.

He knocked and then opened the door to Laura's office just in time to
see Murphy retreating into his own office.

"Good Morning," he said quietly. "But I rather hoped I'd be saying
that to you in another setting."

She looked down at her desk. "I'm sorry," she said. "I just needed
some time to think."

"You don't regret our becoming lovers, do you, Laura?" he asked, his
voice just the slightest bit unsteady as he walked around behind her
desk and leaned against it.

"No," she said, probably too quickly. Then glancing at her watch, she
said, "I have a meeting any minute."

"Okay," he said, leaning over to kiss her softly. "I can wait. But we
do need to talk, Laura. Have lunch with me."

She nodded and smiled, grateful that he didn't press the issue. "And
thank you for the flowers. They're lovely."

"They're nothing compared to you," he said, disappearing into his office.

When he closed the door, she went out to greet the potential new client.


"For goodness sake, Laura, it's Friday night. You have to stop burning
the midnight oil like this!" Bernice said, sticking her head into
Laura's office. "You can't avoid him forever, you know."

"Who says I'm avoiding anyone?" Laura asked as Bernice sat down in the
chair across from her desk.

"Laura, it's been over a week since you…"

"I know, Bernice. I know."

"Yet here you are night after night, working on files that are already
finished, cases that have already been put to bed and who knows what
else, when you've got a perfectly gorgeous man out there waiting to
have his way with you. I don't get it."

"I don't, either," Laura admitted. "When we were working on the Hollis
case and I fell off that beam, all I could think about was that I
could die without ever having told him how I felt about him."

"And how DO you feel about him?"

"That's just it, Bernice. I don't know. I do know that it's about a
lot more than getting my teeth rattled. It meant something to him,
too. I think that's what frightens me the most. I mean, I could almost
handle that heart-stopping fling you mentioned once… but real, genuine
feelings? It scares the hell out of me."

"Are you in love with him?"

"No!" she answered emphatically. "Not yet, anyway. But I could… I
could fall for him very easily. And then what?"

"Then you go on with your life… together."

"But I don't even know his real name," Laura protested. "How do I know
he's really going to be here for the long haul?"

"You don't," Bernice answered honestly. "But isn't that what this is
all about? Go to him, Laura. You have to at least talk to him."

"You're right."


As Laura knocked on the door of his apartment, she let out a long
breath. She had no idea what she was going to say to Remington, but
she knew they had to talk.

"Laura," he said, opening the door. "What a pleasant surprise." He
stepped away from the door to allow her to enter.

"I'm sorry I didn't call first," she said, not meeting his eyes.

"I'm glad you're here," he responded, leading her to the sofa. "Would
you like a drink - or a glass of wine, perhaps?"

*Scotch, straight up,* she thought. "A glass of wine would be nice,"
she answered.

Remington went into the kitchen and came back with a bottle and two
glasses. He poured for both of them and then sat down on the other end
of the sofa. She took a gulp from her glass as he sipped from his own.

"I'm sorry we haven't spent much time together lately," she began.
"I've just been so busy…"

"Duty calls, Laura. I understand."

*Why was he being so nice?*

"That's not it, entirely," she said. "It's just that… well, I…" She
paused as she swallowed the rest of her wine and set the glass on the
coffee table. She then reached for his glass and set it next to hers.
"Oh, hell," she muttered as she flung herself into his arms.

Remington fell back against the armrest as Laura landed on top of him.
She was kissing him with a pent-up desire that seem to match what he
had been feeling these past several days. He wrapped his arms around
her and returned her kisses, volley for volley. However frustrating,
this dance of theirs was becoming quite interesting.


This time when Remington awoke the next morning, Laura was sleeping
beside him. She was beautiful in the early morning sunlight with her
hair spread out across the pillow. He watched her for a few minutes
before sliding quietly out of the bed. Then grabbing his robe, he
headed for the bathroom. When he came out and she was still sleeping,
he decided to make breakfast.

Laura awoke to the most enchanting smell. She was somewhat
disappointed that she was alone in the bed, but this way she had time
to brush her teeth and make herself presentable. She pulled on his
pajama top and headed for the bathroom. After she washed her face and
brushed her teeth, she ran her fingers through her hair, letting it
hang loosely about her shoulders. She padded out to the kitchen and
stood silently in the doorway watching him.

He looked so comfortable in the kitchen as he busily prepared an
exquisite meal. He was making chocolate breakfast crepes with
strawberries and baked bananas. How could he have known about her
weakness for chocolate? He was gorgeous, great in bed, he put up with
her moods--- most of the time, anyway --- and now he was about to feed
her chocolate. Could life get any better?

She walked into the kitchen, sat down on a counter stool and said,
"Good morning."

"Indeed it is, Miss Holt," he said as he leaned across the counter for
a good morning kiss.

"That smells heavenly," she told him, nodding toward the crepes.

"Something told me you would enjoy them," he said, flashing a wicked
smile. "Want some coffee?"

"I'll get it," she said, getting up from her chair and walking over to
the coffee pot.

He watched her as she walked past him, the sway of her hips leaving
little to the imagination in his shirt. He just hoped he could make it
through breakfast without throwing her over his shoulder and taking
her back to his bed.

Returning his focus to the meal before him, he filled two plates with
the sweet confections and carried them out to the dining table. Laura
followed with two steaming mugs of coffee. He then pulled out her
chair and made sure she was situated before returning to the kitchen
to gather the remainder of what they would need for breakfast.

They enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, alternately making small talk and
silently appreciating each other's company.

When he asked her what she wanted to do for the rest of the day, he
saw something change in her. Was he wrong to assume they would spend
this lovely Saturday together? She had stayed the entire night, but
was sharing the afternoon too much to ask? He decided to press on.

"They're showing a Cary Grant retrospective at the Rialto," he said.
"I was thinking of going and I'd love for us to go together."

"Which movies?"

"'The Philadelphia Story', 'To Catch a Thief' and 'An Affair to
Remember'," he answered.

"I'd love to," she said. Then indicating her state of undress, she
added, "I can't exactly go like this."

"Don't worry," he said. "We can swing by your house on the way for you
to freshen up."

She bit her bottom lip, looked at him and said, "That won't be
necessary." When he just looked at her, she continued, saying, "I
brought an overnight bag, but I didn't want to be presumptuous enough
to bring it in. It's downstairs in the car. Would you mind?"

"Not at all," he said. He disappeared into the bedroom and returned a
few minutes later in jeans and a sweatshirt. "Why don't you go ahead
and shower while I go get your bag," he told her. "And I'll clean up
when you're finished."


They spent a lovely weekend together, but Monday morning it was
business as usual. Remington sat in his office, occasionally staring
at the door that separated them. He didn't know where they would go
from here, but he was sure the road would have plenty of twists and
turns. When it came to Laura, he never knew what to expect. He'd come
to realize that her steely resolve, mixed with a vulnerability she
tried to hide, was one of the things he loved most about her. He
resolved himself to take each day as it came, knowing that one day
Laura would realize they indeed were meant to be together.


The End