Steele Holting A Dream
Date: Friday, November 15, 2002
From: Michael Bledsoe <>

I would like to thank Pat for <thwapping> me and Debra and Nancy for
all the help that makes a rough story better.

Steele Holting A Dream
By Michael Bledsoe (

"Miss Holt, I would like to think that I have made my intentions
quite clear in the time that I've spent with the Remington Steele

"Ha!" Laura snorted. "You've made it clear that you want to live high
on the hog. You want to do as little work as possible and you want me
as your casual lover," she said as she ticked the points off on her
fingers. "Is that what you mean?"

"Laura, you wound me deeply." Steele held his heart as if it were

Behind her desk, Bernice Foxe snickered and shuffled the papers
around. Murphy Michaels stared out the window. It wasn't that he
minded Steele getting his comeuppance, but he wanted to stay out of
Laura's warpath.

Laura's knuckles whitened around the bills she brandished mere inches
below Steele's nose.

"You have usurped the role of Remington Steele. You have lied to me
on every level. I have no idea who you really are and you bought a
broken down racehorse with company funds." She turned and stalked a
couple of steps from the visibly cringing man then quickly whirled
back with the bills under his nose again. "You have even paid your
personal gambling debts out of company funds and you want me to take
you seriously as a detective."

"Yes," he said humbly. "I want to turn over a new leaf, as it were,
to make a clean breast of it. I want to learn at the feet of the

Over by the window, Murphy could hold it in no longer and chortled
out loud. If he had turned back to the tableau Laura's gaze would
have killed him instantly. As it was, Murphy felt the evil eye and
rubbed his neck.

"Mr. Steele, let's go for a walk," Laura said through gritted teeth.

She flung the wrinkled papers down on Bernice's desk and grabbed
Steele's arm above the elbow. He winced, but came along meekly,
without a sound.

Laura hauled him down the corridor to the elevator, past the stares
of people. Steele tried to smile apologetically to the people Laura
had shouldered by, but Laura's death grip kept him from appearing
very sincere. In the elevator, she spun him around and released his
arm to punch buttons on the elevator controller.

"Uhm, Laura. I noticed that you pressed the buttons for the top

Laura just glared at him. He took that opportunity to rub a little
circulation back into his oxygen deprived limb.

The elevator quickly rose to the forty-fourth floor, there Laura lead
Steele to the rooftop access door. She quickly determined that it was
locked and turned to Steele.

"Open it."

"Laura, have you lost your mind?"

"No, open that door." She stood and started tapping her toe.

Steele quickly bent and examined the door.

"Just a minute," he said, turning toward her from his kneeling
position. "It seems to me that you are taking a pretty big chance
accessing the roof without the management's permission. This sort of
stunt could get us evicted from the building."

"I'll worry about that, if you don't mind," Laura said darkly. "You
just worry about the lock."

"This lock should be no problem, but I need a way of bypassing the
alarm. Do you have a paperclip?"

"No, I didn't bring my purse," Laura answered tersely. All the
questions seemed to be altering her mood more.

"Then do you have a bobby pin?"

"Yes," she answered coldly, pulling one from her hair. Her perfectly
coiffed hair slowly collapsed in the back.

"Okay, take the little knobs off the ends so that there is exposed

He tossed her some fingernail clippers and bent to work on the lock
with some items he removed surreptitiously from his pockets. Laura
quickly stripped the varnish off the bobby pin.

"Here," she said, offering the flat wire hairpin.

Steele took the metal pin and slipped it between his teeth and
continued his work. He shielded his efforts with his body as Laura
glanced around nervously. Soon Steele stood and backed against the
door. They both slipped through to the stairway.

"Laura, what's this all about?" Steele asked, suddenly wondering if
Laura had been pushed beyond some breaking point that he hadn't

"Just wait; I'm not ready yet."

Laura led him up the stairs and onto the roof. The wind was stronger
here than it had been four hundred-fifty feet lower. Suddenly Laura
shivered, even though the air was quite warm. Her eyes showed white
all the way around and she took Steele's arm. This time her grip was
not of the death grip variety.

"Mr. Steele, we need to go over to the edge."

Steele judged the look in her eye and reluctantly complied.


They advanced to within three feet of the edge and Laura found that
she could no longer advance. At this range the beige anodized finish
of the aluminum was very apparent. Across the distance to the other
tower, Steele could see the sealing crew working on that building's
face. It was a never-ending cycle, the aluminum was sealed, one face
per year to prevent the weathering by Los Angeles' volatile

"Have you every wondered why I chose the towers for the offices of
the Remington Steele Investigations?"

"I always thought it was the prestigious atmosphere and the upscale
neighboring tenants," Steele said, his eye on the horizon.

"No, that is a benefit, not the reason. The reason is that these
towers reflect an image of strength, stability, and success. These
are all traits that I chose for Remington Steele. He is the idealized
detective. Someone that the clients will trust with their very lives."

Laura's eyes seemed unfocused, as if she were seeing her Remington
Steele and not the afternoon skyline of Los Angeles. Steele waited;
he knew that more was coming.

"I risked everything setting up this agency. I was safe in the
Havenhurst Detective Agency. I was on the fast track. I may not have
received the recognition that I was due, but I was an important part
of their team. But I loved the excitement. I wanted to be number one,
so I put my name on an office. I put legs on my dream and sunk
everything into it. Murphy and Bernice also put everything into my

"My name on an office-Ha!" Laura shook her head in dismay. "My name
on an office." The words were nearly a whisper. "We got the job done-
everyone who came to Laura Holt got above average service. But it
wasn't enough. The clients wanted a man to run the detective agency
that they believed in."

"To keep my dream alive, I knew what I had to do. I created a man to
be a name on the door. Remington Steele. Steele for the strength of a
football team and Remington from my typewriter. It was great. He
sounded strong, masculine, intelligent and charming. How could we

"I always figured it was for the rifle," Steele interjected.

"What?" Laura shook her head again, this time as if to comprehend
something that was beyond her grasp. "What?"

"Remington Arms Company, creators and manufacturers of rifles for
nearly two hundred years. Strength of character and the ability to
stand up for anyone," Steele said with a gleam in his eye.

"I thought you didn't like guns."

"Yes, they're dreadful things, but you must admit that a rod of steel
with a loud bark commands attention."

"Yes it does, but is that the image of Remington Steele we want to
present? That's the whole point of this conversation."

"Is it a conversation? It seemed more like a diatribe."

"Come on, Mr. Steele; you have to fall in line with my dream or we
cannot advance together."

"Your dream sounds more like a plan, to me. More like the work of a
pencil pusher than a dreamer. Come on, Laura, strive to reach the
unreachable. Everything you have told me is reachable, a part of the
plan-stick to the schedule-the timetable. I want the impossible and
Remington Steele has given me the means to reach it."

Steele turned to Laura then and took her in his arms. Their kiss was
long and passionate, the backdrop of Los Angeles spread out around
them. When they finally released, Laura stepped back, breathing

"Mr. Steele, you're confusing me."

"Oh there is nothing wrong with your plan, Laura. Just take a little
time to snog in the roses," Steele said with a grin. "I'll toe your
line. Remington Steele is a man of his word, and his word is his
bond. Anyway, we'd best get back down to the office. Murphy is
probably taking wagers that you're going to throw me off the roof."

Under her breath Laura muttered, "The idea had crossed my mind."
The End