- Steele Anxious
by Nancy Eddy <firstname.lastname@example.org>
"Lovely island," Remington commented as the taxi that
he had arranged to pick them up and take them into Avalon entered
the city. "Reminds me of a quaint little island that
I once visited in the Med," he told Laura.
"You'll have to take me there sometime," Laura said,
smiling up at him.
"Be delighted," he assured her. "I can't wait
until we have another case that takes us to Europe," he
said, his lips hovering above hers. "To be able to
show you around minus the need for a chaperone . . ."
"First visit to Catalina?" the driver asked, interrupting
the kiss before it went further than Laura's fingers slipping
inside Remington's shirt.
Regretfully, Remington answered, "Yes," turning to
give Laura a surprised look as she responded at the same time.
"No." Seeing his look, Laura shrugged. "It
was a- few years ago," she told him, her fingers on his
thigh. "Before you were- you."
Remington nodded, but he cast a decidedly assessing gaze over
her as the driver launched into a spiel the likes of which the
Chamber of Commerce would no doubt be proud. Ignoring him,
Remington spoke softly. "Have I met the lucky man you
were here with?" he asked.
She shrugged again but didn't answer.
"Wilson Jeffries?" he asked.
"Hardly, " she assured him, her hand sliding inside
his shirt again. "Wilson wasn't the type who could - relax
enough to enjoy a place like Catalina. Too much of a-"
"Insufferable prig?" Remington suggested.
"Stuffed shirt," Laura finished.
"Say," the driver said, glancing into the mirror as
he spoke. "You look awfully familiar. You somebody
"Me?" Remington asked. So much for maintaining
their anonymity, he thought with a sigh.
"Yeah- you're that detective, aren't you? Steele something?"
"Remington Steele," Laura corrected the driver. "And
no, he's *not* Remington Steele." She pressed herself as
close to Remington as was decently possible. "I happen to
think he's *much* better looking than Steele."
She was trying to make him forget about her previous visit to
the island by distracting him, Remington decided. Might
as well let her think she'd succeeded, he told himself as he
smiled at her words. "Really? Wasn't he named one of
the most eligible bachelors in Los Angeles awhile back?"
"There's only one bachelor that I'm interested in,"
Laura told him as the cab stopped before their hotel.
Remington paid the driver, including a sizeable tip, and then
put his arm around Laura as they entered the hotel doors.
The man at the desk smiled. "Welcome to the Villa Portafino
Hotel. May I help you?" he asked.
"I believe I have a reservation," Remington told him. "Remington
Steele," he said quietly, trying not to draw unnecessary
"Ah, of course, Mr.-" the man modified his volume as
Remington winced and brought his hand down. "Are you
here on a case, then?" he asked, turning the register toward
"Possibly," Remington said. "I can't really discuss
it. I'm sure you understand."
"Oh, quite, sir. Quite." He took a set of
keys from the wall. "Here you are. The Portofino Suite,
as promised." He lifted a hand to summon a bell hop,
but Remington shook his head.
"That's not necessary. I believe we can find our own way. And-
I'd really prefer that my presence wasn't- bandied about, if
you don't mind."
"I understand, Mr.- Sir," he said, placing a finger
to his lips. "Enjoy your stay."
"Oh, I'm quite certain we will," Laura told the clerk. "Uh,
you do have- room service, don't you?"
"Of course, miss."
Laura slipped her arm through Remington's with a smile as they
moved toward the elevators. "We'll be able to order
breakfast without ever leaving bed," she told him.
"Be careful, Laura," he cautioned, pressing the button
and looking up at the indicator. "The last time you said
that, we never got breakfast."
He ushered her into the lift, then pressed the button for their
floor. "But last time," Laura reminded him, pressing
him against the wall, "you'd just stolen a priceless jeweled
dagger." She smiled as her fingers toyed with the remaining
fastened buttons of his blue shirt. "I know you haven't
been up to *that* particular trick this time."
"Haven't the energy," he mused, glancing at the indicator
beside the door.
"What's the matter, Mr. Steele?" she asked. "Too
much for you?"
"Not at all, Miss Holt," he replied, pulling her close
for a kiss that ended only when the doors opened to reveal an
elderly couple waiting for the elevator. Remington simply
smiled at them and kept his arm around Laura as they moved away
from the couple.
"Still can't get any bloody privacy," he muttered as
Laura tried to hide her laughter, watching him put the key into
the door to their suite.
Remington opened the door and let her enter first, noticing with
a raised eyebrow that she was carrying both of their overnight
bags. He placed the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the
doorknob and closed the door, then put the chain in place. Turning,
he found himself pressed against the door's hard surface by Laura's
body. Buttons when flying as she tore open his shirt and
pushed it from his shoulders.
"While our- interlude at the heliport was- wonderful,"
she said, her fingers tugging at his belt, "it wasn't nearly
enough, Mr. Steele," she told him, referring to the fifteen
minute wait for the winds to die down, during which time Laura
had practically dragged him into a supply closet. After he removed
his shoes, Remington's hands went to work on Laura's clothing
as well, peeling them from her body with an agonizing slowness
that he knew full well was driving Laura mad. When she would
have helped him, Remington shook his head and refused the offer,
then moaned softly as he felt her hands on him, stroking him
as she had earlier in that closet. Only this time, it was going
to be far more than her hand on him that sent him over the edge. She
was right. While their mutual -"twiddling" had
taken the edge off;hadn't been nearly as satisfying as making
Laura pulled him toward the king sized bed, and Remington followed,
needing to be with her more than he'd ever thought possible. He'd
never considered the idea that she might have come here with
another man- and the realization that she had troubled him. More
than he wanted it to.
Then all coherent thought fled as Laura straddled him, lowering
herself onto him . . .
When he woke, the room was dark, and he reached out, searching
for Laura's warm body. When he encountered only empty bed, he
opened his eyes. "Laura?"
"Out here," she told him. "On the balcony."
Forgoing the need for the robe - he hadn't brought one anyway-
Remington padded out into the darkness to find a similarly unclad
Laura standing there, enjoying the view. Her slipped his
arms around her and pulled her close against his body, dropping
a kiss onto her shoulder. "Couldn't sleep?"
"Just enjoying the view," she said.
"Hmm," he agreed, surveying her in the dim light, glad
that the shadow from the overhang would hide them from any of
the connecting balconies. "I have to agree, it's fantastic." She
turned her head to give him a kiss. "You did it again,
you know," he said a she turned into his arms.
"Called me 'Remington' when you- went over the top."
"Why can't you do that when we're not making love, eh? "
Laura sighed and turned in his arms again to look out over the
glittering lights in the harbour. "I don't know. Maybe
it has something to do with being somewhat less- inhibited at
"Then what say we work a bit more on those lingering inhibitions?"
he said against her ear.
"You really think I have any left?" she asked, turning
into his arms again. "I mean, two weeks ago, would
I have been standing out here, on an open balcony, naked, with
you? Or would I have lured you into a supply closet and
-" her hand drifted down as if to give a repeat performance,
but Remington grasped it in his.
"No, I can't say that you would have," he admitted. "Nor
would you have seduced me into making love to you in my office. But
there must be some reason why you can't call me anything other
than Mr. Steele."
"I daresay it will happen," she assured him. She
linked her hands behind his neck. "You know what?"
"What?" he asked.
"I think we're going to need our strength this weekend,"
she said. "Why don't you order something from room
service while I go- tidy up?" she suggested, giving him
a lingering kiss before moving back into the room.
"Good idea," he agreed, closing the sliding glass door
and pulling the cord for the drapes before turning on the lamp
beside the bed. "Anything in particular?" he called
"Surprise me," was her reply.
Laura finished the last chocolate covered strawberry dipped in
whipped cream and settled back against Remington to look into
the fireplace. "I feel positively decadent," she
declared, looping an arm around his neck.
Remington picked up his glass of champagne, nodding in agreement.
"This place certainly knows how to cater to their clientele,"
he agreed. "Where did you stay the last time you were
here?" He felt her surprised start at his question.
"Uh, at the Seaport Village Inn," she told him. "Just
down the road a ways." She turned to look at him. "You're
really curious about that, aren't you?"
He shrugged. "It's just that- you never mentioned having
been to Catalina before- I suppose that I just- assumed that
you'd never been here."
Laura turned to lay on the thick carpet so she could look at
him. "You're sure you want to hear about it?"
"I know I don't have the right to- question your past, Laura-
not when I haven't been as forthcoming about my own," he
"Deal, then," she said. "I'll tell you about my
last time here- if you'll tell me how you met one of your former-
lady friends." She held out her hand. "Deal?"
"Deal," he agreed, taking her hand in his. "Who
"You," she said. "You've wiggled out of too many
of these little wagers by letting *me* go first."
"Okay. Anyone in particular you're interesting in hearing
about? Or shall I just-"
"Felicia," she said, cutting him off.
He told her the story about how he and the blonde had met going
after the same set of precious gemstones and then decided to
"hook up" for awhile. "It was never serious
between us," he assured her. "We were each someone
to turn to when the nights got cold and lonely." She
nodded as he finished. "Your turn, I believe?"
Laura rose from the carpet and went to refill her glass with
champagne before she spoke. "The last time I was in
Catalina," she said, "I was ten years old and my father
brought me over to ride in the glass bottomed boat," she
Remington knew that he'd been had. "You deliberately let
me think that-" he pointed his finger at her. "Why
you little-" he came to his feet as Laura made a beeline
for the bathroom and closed the door, laughing. "Laura? Laura,
open this door. I've always been a gentleman before and
not picked a bathroom door when you've hidden behind it. But
so help me-" he heard the water come on, and ran a hand
through his dark hair, then went to retrieve the leather wallet
from the pocket of his trousers. Drawing out two picks,
he made short work of the lock and opened the door.
Laura was sitting in the bathtub, surrounded by a sea of white,
frothy bubbles. "It certainly took you long enough, Remington,"
she said, scooping up a handful of bubbles and blowing them in
his direction. "Why don't you join me? The water's
He shook his head, and then leapt into the tub, ignoring the
water that splashed onto the floor. She shrieked with laughter
when he playfully threatened to drown her for what she'd done.
"You're the one who leapt to a wrong conclusion," she
told him. "I never said I was here with an old boyfriend.
And was it so horrible, telling me about a tiny sliver of your
"No," he admitted, pulling her close in the oversize
tub. "At the moment, I'd almost be willing to tell
you anything- if you'll call me Remington again the way you did
a moment ago."
She smiled, her dimples appearing. "Oh, that's an easy
one. Remington." She said it slowly, carefully, as
her hand drifted from his chest and into the water- and then
neither of them spoke with any lucidity for some time . . .
The water had turned cold by the time they left the tub, the
bubbles gone. As they sat before the fire again, this time
on the sofa, enjoying the last of the wine, Remington asked,
"So, what do you want to hear about first?" he asked. "My
first memories of Ireland? Of being tossed around from family
to family? Or maybe my first meeting with Daniel-?"
Laura turned to place a hand to his lips. "None of it- until
you're ready to tell it. I was only joking."
He kissed her fingers. "But I want to-"
"No," she said, shaking her head, and Remington was
entranced by the play of firelight on the chestnut locks. "It's
like my calling you Remington. When the time is right, you'll
tell me whatever I need to know." His hand slid behind
her neck to draw her closer for a kiss.
Once it ended, Laura rose from the sofa and held out her hand
in invitation. "Let's go to bed."
"Ah, you've made me an offer I can't refuse," he said
with a smile, taking her hand to follow her toward the bed once
"The Godfather," Laura cited, smiling at him as he
lay down beside her. "Marlon Brando, James Caan, Al Pacino,
"Very good," he praised. "You're learning,
Laura. You're learning." He settled closer. "So,
when do you think we should tell Mildred?"
As Remington paid their bill on Sunday, Laura rested her head
on his shoulder. "Here you are, sir," the clerk said,
sliding the ticket across the counter to be signed. Remington
freed his right arm to take the pen he was offering. "I
trust your weekend was- satisfactory?"
Remington looked up at the man with a smile, "Oh, I think
you could safely say that is was incredibly satisfactory,"
"Excellent," the clerk said, delighted. "Can
you tell me anything about the case?"
"Case?" Remington questioned, tearing up the carbon
of the credit card ticket.
Laura jumped to the rescue. "It's very hush-hush,"
she confided to the eager clerk. "We couldn't possibly talk
"Oh, I understand. Perfectly. Have a nice flight
back to the mainland. Your taxi should be waiting outside."
As they turned to leave, Remington stopped and turned back to
the desk- "Uh- could I make another reservation?" he
"But of course, Mr.-" He remembered at the last moment
not to say the name. Fingers hovering over his computer,
he asked, "For when?"
"Next month. The same room, if possible?" He
slipped a twenty dollar bill across the counter.
"It's taken care of," the clerk assured him, typing
something into the computer keyboard before him.
"A month?" Laura asked as they finally started for
"Gives us something to look forward to," he explained.
"Something to keep us going during those long, dreary days
at work, chasing down bad guys- and getting interrupted by bullets-
Laura's laughter made him smile as they got into the taxi. "Sounds
like you two enjoyed your weekend," the driver commented.
"Oh, indeed we did, my good man," Remington assured
him. "Wouldn't you agree, my dear?"
"Oh, yes. Very much so. You have a wonderful island
here," she said. "Absolutely beautiful."
"You go for a ride on the boat?" he asked.
"No," Laura told him.
"How about visiting the Casino?"
"Fraid not," Remington said.
The driver glanced in the mirror before he asked, "Played
a little golf?"
"No," they answered in unison.
"Then what did you do?" he asked.
"Never left our room, actually," Remington confided
as the taxi came to a stop outside the heliport terminal.
"Oh," the driver said.
Sitting forward, Remington handed him a twenty. "Keep the
change. And have a nice evening."
"Yeah. You too." He watched the couple disappear
into the terminal and shook his head. Mainlanders were crazy.
All of 'em.
"Good morning, Mildred," Remington said as he and Laura
entered the office the next morning."
The older woman turned and looked at them. "Well, this is
a red letter day," she said with a laugh. "You're
both here- and on time?" she said, glancing at the clock
on her desk.
"Mildred," Laura said, her expression serious, "Would
you join us- in Mr. Steele's office for a moment?"
She looked worried, and her gaze swung toward Remington for some
hint as to what was going on. But his expression was just as
serious. "Miss Holt and I have something to tell you-"
Mildred swallowed, her gaze moving from one to the other, clearly
frightened. Slowly she moved into Mr. Steele's office and
waited as Laura closed the door.
A few minutes later, if there had been anyone waiting in the
reception area, they would have been surprised by the cry of
delight that emanated from within the confines of Remington Steele's
office as the Agency's self appointed mother figure found out
that her two "kids" were together at last.