- Steeling Home
Date: Thursday, December 14, 2006
- "screechmonkeys" <screechmonkeys@netzero.net>
-
- Well, I've got my courage
up again (kinda), so here goes nothing.
- As always, I have to
thank Zinger for her wonderful input and for keeping me honest
- Thanks, babe! Thanks also to Nora Bolt for her amazing dialog
direction in the end scene - Couldn't have done it without you!
Thanks to Mickey Boggs for beta-reading - Most appreciated! And
thank you to my SteeleWatcher friends for all your encouragement
(you know who you are) - I am forever grateful!
- As I send this, I'm
reminded of my favorite James Bond quote by my favorite James
Bond (Pierce, of course) from my favorite James Bond movie (Goldeneye):
"No, no, no. . . No more foreplay." If only Remington
had said that to Laura, eh? (Yes, this is one of *those* stories.
. . Considered yourself warned!)
- Anyway, this story
takes place after "Steele Alive and Kicking". "Bonds
of Steele" and the fifth season don't exist. So, here it
is. . . (As always, feedback is appreciated. Silence is deafening!)
- *****
- "Steeling Home"
-
- The elevator door opened on the
fifth floor of the Rossmore. She walked out with her head held
high, strolled over to his door and knocked. No answer. It didn't
matter. She unclasped her barrette, letting her hair fall softly
to frame her face. In a matter of seconds, his lock clicked open
and she ventured in.
-
- His place was dark, except for a
light coming from behind the half-closed bedroom door. She approached
cautiously, not knowing if he was there or not. Was *she* with
him? She had to know. Hoping for the best but preparing for the
worst, she pushed the door open slightly until she could see
his bed. It was still made. She poked her head in further and
looked around. No signs of *her* anywhere. Then she heard the
shower. Not exactly what she had in mind, but. . . With a renewed
sense of confidence, she began undoing the buttons on her blouse.
-
- The hot water beat down on Mr. Steele's
lean body as he ran his hands through his dripping wet hair.
His mind was still reeling with thoughts of what transpired this
last week. Why did Felicia have to show up now? He and Laura
had been getting so close lately. Hell, they even shared a bed
together after Monroe's delivery boy was blown away in his hallway.
Nothing sexual happened, of course. But they held each other
all night and experienced a closeness that only heightened their
desire to be together.
- He was glad he decided to tell Laura
about Felicia's predicament instead of trying to hide it from
her and help Felicia on his own. From past experience, he knew
Laura would find out anyway. She always did. And he certainly
didn't want her to re-institute another "no mixing business
with pleasure" rule like she did in Cannes. So, he told
her. Laura was upset, but at least he had been honest with her
and she appreciated that. Still, he worried what effect this
would have on their relationship. Laura actually seemed to be
fighting for him. But was she really fighting for *him* or was
she just fighting Felicia?
-
- He closed his eyes and leaned his
head back as the pulsating water hit his shoulders and chest
in a soothing rhythm. He was so lost in his reverie that he didn't
hear the shower door quietly open and close. Small, feminine
hands reached up over his shoulders and covered his eyes. Startled,
he snapped back to reality.
-
- "Felicia, I thought I made
it perfectly clear. I don't want you. I'm committed to Miss Holt."
He broke free from her gentle grasp and turned around. "Laura?!"
-
- He rubbed his eyes, convinced that
the water must be blurring his vision. He looked again. Laura
was still there. "Laura, what are you doing here?!"
- She put her finger to her lips.
"Shhhhh."
-
- Laura entwined her fingers in his
hair and hungrily pulled his lips down to hers. It was a forceful
kiss. . . an insistent kiss. . . much like the one they shared
in the Honeymoon Suite in Mexico when he told her he cared for
her. His heart raced. But he pulled back, not knowing if he could
believe what seemed to be happening. He had to look again. He
had to be sure. Oh, God. It *was* her - the woman he had wanted
for so very long. His piercing blue eyes perused her naked body
from head to toe and back up again. Their eyes locked in a fiery
gaze. Almost instinctively, he switched places with her, letting
the water cascade down her lovely nude form. He ran his trembling
fingers though her hair as it became wet. His breathing became
ragged as he ran his tongue up and down the side of her neck,
attacking the sensitive spot behind her ear that drove her crazy.
He lightly ran his fingertips up and down her spine, sending
chills through every inch of her body. A low moan escaped from
her lips and she began to quiver ever so slightly.
-
- "Laura. . . I want you,"
he declared.
-
- He rotated them around again and
grabbed her wrists, raising them over her head. He pushed her
hard against the shower wall, making full contact with her slick
body. The contrast between the cold tiles on her back and his
hot body pressed against her front made her gasp. She arched
into him, feeling for the first time the full extent of his arousal.
Her lips parted at his urging and their tongues darted in and
out feverishly, doing a mating dance of their own. He pushed
her hands together and held them with one hand against the wall.
His other hand grabbed her leg and pulled it up around his hip
to gain easier access to where he so desperately wanted to be.
. . to where she *needed* him to be. She was ready.
-
- "Now," she panted.
-
- Just then, the shower door opened.
"Michael. . . Lisa. . . Naughty, naughty! Mind if I join
in?"
-
- "Felicia?! Bloody hell, woman!"
he barked.
-
- "Oh my God!" Laura was
mortified. There was Felicia, standing there in all her naked
glory, looking like she had just stepped out of Playboy Magazine.
Laura turned beet red. She slipped out from his grasp, grabbed
a towel and ran past Felicia to the bedroom, leaving a trail
of water behind.
-
- "Well then, it looks like it's
just you and me, darling."
-
- "Shut up, Felicia," he
hissed. "Laura, wait!" he pleaded as he pushed the
blonde bombshell out of the way. She slipped on the wet floor
and took a tumble, scraping her temple on the sharp edge of the
counter. "Laura, please don't go," he begged as he
stood in the doorway. She already had her skirt on and was hiding
her breasts from him.
-
- "Michael, help me!" He
glanced back over his shoulder. Blood was gushing from the gash.
He was torn. Should he go to the woman he loved or help a hurt
friend? "Michael, *please*," she pleaded as a thick
streak of crimson red blood trickled down her cheek.
-
- "Oh shhhh-ugar. Laura, I'm
begging you - please don't leave. Felicia's bleeding. I won't
be but a minute."
-
- He disappeared into the bathroom
as Laura hastily buttoned her blouse and shoved her sapphire
blue satin bra and panties into her pocket. She brushed away
her tears as she made a beeline towards his front door.
-
- ***
-
- Back at her loft, Laura took a shower
and threw on an oversized white cotton t-shirt and cotton underwear.
She should have known they'd be interrupted. They were *always*
interrupted. But this time, it was worse. Much worse. She was
humiliated. . . in front of her. . . in front of *him*. She had
finally conquered her fears, letting the "old Laura"
out - the wild, impetuous Laura that she tried so hard to suppress.
And she was finally going to give him what they were both yearning
for. But then this had to happen.
-
- She opened her medicine cabinet
and grabbed her toothbrush and paste. And there they were. .
. just lying there. . . somehow mocking her. Birth control pills.
She started taking them shortly after the Perennial case. She
and Mr. Steele were becoming so close. She thought she should
be prepared for the time when they finally "turned that
corner", so. . .
-
- "Dammit!" Laura grabbed
the pills and hastily threw them in the wastepaper basket. "Yeah,
like I'll ever need *those*," she sputtered aloud. Images
of the voluptuous Felicia barging in on them filled her head.
"How can I ever compete with *that*?" She berated herself
unmercifully and callously, like most women do about their "imperfect"
bodies, not recognizing the beauty she possessed. Deep down,
she knew it didn't matter to him that she wasn't exactly "well-endowed"
and was freckled to boot, but right now she needed to wallow
a little longer.
-
- Her pity party was interrupted by
a knock on the door. She threw on her blue silk robe and crept
quietly to the door. She knew it was Mr. Steele, but she couldn't
face him. Not yet. He knocked again.
-
- "Laura, I know you're in there.
I saw your car parked out back."
-
- Damn. She was beginning to rue the
day she taught him how to be a detective.
-
- "Laura, please. We need to
talk."
-
- It was either now or Monday at work.
. . and she wasn't quite sure she wanted to have this conversation
when Mildred was around. Might as well bite the bullet. She unlatched
the bolt and slid the door open.
-
- He cleared his throat. "May
I come in?"
-
- "Suit yourself."
-
- He followed her in, closing the
door behind him. "Ah. . . you forgot these," he said
meekly, handing her the pantyhose she hastily left behind. She
grabbed them out of his hand, unable to make eye contact. Could
this get any worse? She turned her back to him.
-
- "How's Felicia?"
-
- "Better now. We got the bleeding
to stop, but she'll have a nasty wound for a while." Dead
silence. "Um. . . Laura, we ah, we need to talk about what
happened."
-
- "No, we don't."
-
- "Laura, please look at me.
I need to see you. I need to know that you're all right. . .
That *we're* all right. Please."
-
- She turned around but was still
unable to look at him. He placed two fingers under her chin and
gently raised her head to look at him. "Laura, what happened
tonight was. . . wonderful."
-
- "At least until *she* showed
up."
-
- "Well, actually Laura,"
he said, tugging at his ear, "I'm kind of glad she *did*
show up."
-
- "You are?" Yes, obviously
it *could* get worse. Her heart sank.
-
- "Yes. I mean, if she hadn't,
we would have just had. . . *sex*."
-
- "I thought that's what you
wanted?!" Now her hackles were up. "Isn't that why
you stuck around all this time?!"
-
- For someone who was so obviously
intelligent, she certainly could be incredibly dense at times.
-
- "Do you think - do you *really*
think - that I stayed around four-and-a-half years just for *sex*?!"
He was seething. "Sure, maybe at the beginning. But not
anymore." He struggled to regain his composure. "Yes,
of course I want to have sex with you. . . wild. . . uninhibited.
. . absurdly passionate sex," he affirmed. "But not
for our first time. We've waited far too long to *just* have
sex."
-
- He was right. If they had continued,
their physical urges would have been sated, but not their emotional
needs. They were in much too deep for that.
-
- "I'm sorry," she whispered,
feeling rather foolish. He pulled her to him and she buried her
head in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, letting her
know that everything was all right.
-
- "Don't be sorry. Let's just
postpone that for a bit, eh?"
-
- She looked up at him and sighed.
"OK."
-
- "I should go. It's getting
late."
-
- "Where's, ah. . . Where's Felicia
staying?" She tried to sound nonchalant.
-
- "I told her she could stay
at my place."
-
- "Oh."
-
- "I'm going to check into a
hotel."
-
- "You could stay here if you'd
like," she ventured.
-
- He flashed her a perfect smile.
"Laura, you are truly an angel of mercy." He took off
his leather jacket and threw it on the chair. "Thank you."
-
- "No problem," she said
warmly.
-
- He walked up the stairs to where
she kept his couch linens and pillow. They made up the couch
together as they had done so many times before.
-
- "Goodnight, Laura." He
leaned forward and went to give her a peck on the cheek. She
inadvertently turned her head, causing their lips to meet instead.
They lingered a bit too long and the innocent goodnight kiss
took a much different turn. Their pulses quickened. She felt
a fire raging deep inside her and he was quickly becoming erect.
Once again, he pulled back and searched her chocolate brown eyes.
"Laura?"
-
- She simply nodded her head. He kissed
her softly, lightly licking at her lips, and carried her effortlessly
up to the bed. He gently lowered her until her feet touched the
ground and searched her delicate features again to see if she
wanted him to stop. Her gaze reassured him that this was indeed
what she wanted. He untied her belt and pushed her robe off her
shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He smirked. She could
even make a simple cotton t-shirt look incredibly sexy.
-
- It was her turn now. She yanked
at his white shirt, freeing it from the confines of his jeans,
and undid his buttons. He unbuttoned his cuffs and she slowly
pushed his shirt off. She rested her hands on his chest and could
feel his heart thumping wildly. He placed his hands over hers
and slowly guided them lower. . . down his ribcage. . . over
his flat stomach. . . He stopped when her hands reached the top
of his jeans. What happened next was up to her.
-
- She was breathing as hard and heavy
as he was now. She looked directly into his eyes as her fingers
found his belt. It unclasped fairly easily, thank goodness. She
drew in a breath as she unsnapped his pants and inched the zipper
down.
-
- "Laura," he whispered.
-
- She grabbed the sides of his jeans,
tugged them down and let them fall to the floor. He quickly stepped
them off and gave them a shove with his foot. His socks went
next as he skillfully toed them off. He stood before her wearing
nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs, which clung to him
tightly, revealing just how much he desired her.
-
- She, on the other hand, was still
wearing too much for his liking. He grabbed the bottom of her
t-shirt with both hands and hesitated slightly, half expecting
Laura to pull back. Usually at this time, her body would be screaming
'yes' and her mind would be screaming 'no'. But not tonight.
Tonight her body and mind were in perfect sync. When she raised
her arms above her head, he knew for sure that she was ready.
This was it. This was what she wanted. . . What *they* wanted.
He quickly pulled her t-shirt over her head and flung it across
the room. He looked at her as if he were seeing a woman for the
first time.
-
- "God, you're beautiful."
-
- She looked down, embarrassed by
his sincerity, and caught a glimpse of her white cotton bikini
panties. She chastised herself for not wearing something a little
more provocative. But, then again, she really had no idea that
*this* would be happening.
-
- Then his pure carnal lust kicked
in to overdrive. All he wanted to do was take her panties off
and drive himself into her right then and there. It had been
so long and he wanted her so badly. He fought hard to bring himself
back from the edge and suppress his urges. The last thing he
wanted to do was blow this one chance he had with her. She needed
to know how he really felt. He loved Laura. . . *really* loved
her. And for once, it wasn't about him and the pleasure he could
derive from a woman. It was about *her*. . . about *them*.
-
- She took his hand in hers, sat down
at the foot of the bed and scooted backwards towards the headboard,
all the while pulling him along. She laid supine with him poised
over her. After a few urgent kisses, he dispensed with her underwear.
She eagerly returned the favor. Their hands and lips roamed over
each other freely. . . touching. . . tasting. . . teasing each
other mercilessly until Laura finally pleaded for him to take
her.
- Very slowly and very deliberately,
their bodies became one. He knew it had been a long time since
she had been with a man and he didn't want to hurt her. She closed
her eyes and bit her lower lip as she brought her legs up to
take him in as deeply as he could go. But then, he didn't move.
Was something wrong? Didn't she feel good to him? Her eyes flew
open in a panic.
- Yet all her fears were put to rest
when she saw those eyes - those indescribably beautiful blue
eyes - looking back at her. What did she see in those eyes -
acceptance?. . . love?. . . *forever*?
-
- "Laura, there's something I
want to tell you. . . something I *need* to tell you. . . something
you deserve to know." His voice was low and sincere. "I,
ah. . . " he swallowed hard. ". . . You know that I
care for you. More than care, actually. . . Much more. . . "
His voice started to shake ever so slightly. "I, ah. . .
That is to say that I'm, ah. . . Laura, I um. . . "
-
- She pressed her fingertips to his
lips. "I know. . . Me, too."
-
- She removed her fingers and gave
him a torrid kiss. He began to throb and jerked inside her. The
words would come, but right now there was something more urgent
that demanded his attention. After a few thrusts, they found
their rhythm, slow and sensual. . . Their bodies rising and falling
in perfect synchronization. . . All their needs and desires being
met. Then her breathing became erratic and she urged him to thrust
faster and harder.
- She involuntarily cried out his
name in ecstasy, "Remington. . . Remington. . . ,"
urging him to come with her.
-
- "Oh God, Laura!" he ground
out as they rode the wave together.
-
- Both sated and utterly spent, he
collapsed on top of her, their bodies covered in a thin layer
of sweat. He always wondered what she would look like at that
particular moment. . . what she would feel like. . . what she
would call him. Now he knew. And it was better than he imagined.
They panted loudly, each trying to catch their breath. He propped
himself up above her and gazed at her lovingly.
-
- "That was incredible. *You*
were incredible." It was a bit of a cliché, but words
always seemed to fail him when it came to expressing matters
of the heart.
-
- "I think you might have had
a little something to do with it, too, Mr. Steele," she
teased.
-
- "Come here."
-
- He pulled her off the bed briefly
so they could settle in under the covers. She crawled in first,
lying on her side. He molded his body to hers and wrapped his
arm around her possessively. He nuzzled her neck and whispered
her name in her ear before drifting off to sleep. She soon joined
him in slumber.
-
- *****
-
- Laura woke up with a smile on her
face. She would have thought it was all a wonderful dream had
it not been for the warm body lying next to her. And not just
*any* body - *his* body. The body of the man she had loved for
nearly five years. He felt so good. She could definitely get
used to this.
-
- Gently and ever so slightly, she
raised his arm and slipped out from under his embrace. She glanced
at the clock - it was 3:42 - and padded to the bathroom. Not
wanting to wake him, she closed the door quietly behind her before
turning on the light. She looked in the mirror and liked what
she saw. She seemed different somehow. . . softer. . . happier.
. . contented. Wide awake now, she took a shower, replaying in
her mind all the tender moments she and Remington shared earlier
that night. . . Especially the part where he tried to say 'I
love you'. She knew he loved her. Perhaps she had known all along.
But now there was no more doubt. And she loved him, too. . .
absolutely and completely.
-
- Laura sighed, remembering her little
outburst earlier in the evening. She fished her birth control
pills out of the trash can, thankful that she hadn't flushed
them down the toilet, and put them back in her cabinet.
- She toweled dry and crept back to
bed. Their clothes were still scattered all over the floor. She
saw his shirt and couldn't resist. It was so soft. Leave it to
Mr. Steele to buy even the most expensive and luxurious casual
clothes. She slipped it on, brought the collar up to her nose
and inhaled deeply. It smelled like him. Laura let his scent
wash over her and smiled unconsciously. She slipped back into
bed, this time facing him. He looked happy, she thought, even
if he *was* asleep. She watched him. . . studied him. . . fantasized
about him. Some time later, she drifted off to sleep.
-
- *****
-
- Remington inhaled deeply and stretched
lazily. His body ached. . . a good ache. . . confirming that
what happened with Laura last night hadn't just been a dream.
He opened his eyes to see her lying beside him. She was so beautiful.
. . And she was finally his. It had been nearly five excruciatingly
long years, but Laura was worth the wait. Besides, he was already
looking forward to making up for lost time. When did she put
on his shirt? It didn't matter. He thought she looked incredible
in it. . . even though he'd rather she was naked.
-
- It was early. . . too early. But
he thought he'd surprise her with breakfast in bed. He grabbed
a quick shower, got dressed in the clothes she wasn't wearing
and perused the contents of her fridge. Deplorable. What did
that woman live on? He looked at the time. Too early for any
reputable market to be open. He'd have to visit the local grocery
chain. He jotted her a quick note and placed it on the night
stand.
-
- Laura,
- Went for food. Be back shortly.
- Steele
-
- He put on his leather jacket and
chuckled in spite of himself, thinking that Butch Bemus would
approve of his new look. Just when *did* she put on his shirt
anyway?
-
- *****
-
- A smile crossed Laura's face. "Remington,"
she sighed. She reached out for him, slowly opening her eyes.
"Remington?" She jerked awake, sitting up suddenly.
"Mr. Steele?" she called loudly, hoping he would answer
back from the bathroom.
-
- Panicked, she flung the covers back
and jumped out of bed, creating a draft of air that blew his
note behind the night stand. His clothes were gone. The bathroom
was empty. She frantically searched for a note. . . something.
. . anything that indicated he didn't abandon her. She found
nothing. He wouldn't leave her. Would he?
-
- She plopped down on the couch and
clutched the pillow he didn't sleep on last night. Tears flowed
down her cheeks unyieldingly as she fought unsuccessfully to
make them stop. She tried to convince herself that he didn't
abandon her, but visions of her father and Wilson invaded her
thoughts. If *they* abandoned her, why wouldn't *he*?
-
- "He's not Daddy. . . He's not
Wilson. . . He'll be back," she whispered, desperately clinging
to the pillow and rocking back and forth. But her voice of reason
was drowned out by everyone else's.
-
- First, was Murphy: "He's not
gonna stick around after this."
-
- Then Felicia: "Strange. . .
You never struck me as his type."
-
- Her mother: "Oh, I could never
tell your sister any of this. She and Donald are so incredibly
happy together. She could never relate to a loser in love."
-
- Mildred: "How much *do* you
know about the boss?"
-
- And Daniel: "The only reason
he hasn't painted himself out of your life is that the two of
you have yet to experience the, um. . . ultimate moment."
-
- She was so caught up in her own
anguish that she didn't even hear him come in. He dropped the
groceries and a beautiful bouquet of flowers on the floor.
-
- "Laura? Laura, what's wrong?
Is everything all right? Are you OK?" He knelt down on one
knee in front of her, rubbing her leg soothingly.
-
- "Where were you?" She
brushed her tears away, trying to regain control.
-
- He sat down beside her and put his
arm around her shoulder. "I went to get us some food. Didn't
you see the note?" She shook her head. "Is that why
you're so upset?" Then it hit him. "You thought I left
you." It pained him deeply to know she could still think
that - especially after everything they shared last night.
-
- "No," she said tentatively.
"Maybe," she confessed quietly, avoiding his eyes.
-
- He pulled the pillow free from her
embrace and grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together.
"Laura, you trust me with your life every day. . . When
will you trust me with your *heart*?"
-
- "I do. . . I mean, I'm trying.
It's just - "
-
- "Because of my past?"
he asked earnestly.
-
- "Because of my insecurities."
Even *she* was surprised when she heard herself admit that out
loud. Her honesty felt good - to both of them.
-
- "I'm not going anywhere, Laura,"
he reiterated for the umpteenth time, gently kissing a lingering
tear that clung to her cheek. "And I meant what I tried
to say last night."
-
- She smiled, letting him see that
cute dimple he loved so much. "I meant what I didn't say,
too, Mr. Steele."
-
- "*Mr. Steele*? So, we're back
to that again, eh? Seems to me, you, ah, screamed something different
last night. . . 'Remington', wasn't it?"
-
- "I might have," she answered
coyly.
-
- He laid her down on the couch. "So,"
he said between kisses, "What does a man have to do to get
you to call him by his first name?"
-
- "Mmmmm. . . This is a good
start," she purred.
-
- He nibbled her ear and quickly dispensed
of his jacket.
-
- "But, Mr. Steele. . . What
about breakfast?"
-
- "My stomach is perfectly satisfied
from the three solid meals I ate yesterday," he answered,
continuing his onslaught of warm, moist kisses.
-
- "Are you saying that what we
did last night didn't satisfy your *other* needs?"
-
- He raised his eyebrow and gave a
lopsided smirk. "Oh, absolutely not. But that. . . activity.
. . was preceded by nearly five years of, shall we say. . . fasting?"
-
- Laura had to smile. His charm was
never lost on her.
-
- "And I intend to satiate myself
for an eternity to compensate. . . Assuming that you're willing
to aid me in this endeavor, Miss Holt."
-
- "Ready and willing to assist
any time, Mr. Steele."
-