Steele Trying to Get it Right Part 1
Date: Wednesday, June 26, 2002
Nancy <>

Okay, we're on the way. Part 2 will be posted in two weeks.

Steele Trying to Get it Right
Part 1
By Laura W and Krebbie

Los Angeles, CA
9:50 AM

Remington Steele stepped out of the yellow cab and straightened his tie.
His meeting with the INS was in ten minutes, and he was in no mood for
it. His wife was most likely waiting for him inside. He took a deep
breath and gathered himself for the meeting. Hopefully, he would be able
to shuck the status of "permanent resident" for that of "citizen" once
the INS finalized its paperwork.

Inside the massive building Laura sat waiting for him in the lobby on
the twelfth floor. He strode over to her, kissed her briefly on the
cheek and then took his place next to her in a plastic orange chair.

"You're almost late," Laura whispered as he sat.

"Nonsense," he said as he checked his watch. "Right on time, Mrs.

"Mr. and Mrs. Steele?" A young man approached the couple. "If you'll
follow me," he said and turned to go back the way he came.

Laura and Remington exchanged pensive looks. "It'll be fine, darling.
After you," Remington held out is hand to help her up.

They followed the young man down a long hallway, passing row upon row of
cubicles. Finally, they emerged at the end of the hall and followed the
man into a corner office.

"Please, have a seat," another young man told the couple. The other man
closed the door and left. "I'm Agent Roger Derkins," he told them
without extending a hand. "Estelle Becker transferred to San Diego two
months ago, so I'm in charge of finalizing the report."

"Do you usually take on such routine cases, Agent Derkins?" Laura asked
in her usual suspicious manner.

"I appreciate your apprehension, Mrs. Steele. I can assure you, however,
that your case is highly unusual. I would even go so far as to term it

Remington didn't have to look at his wife to know she was developing a
full head of steam. He held his breath as the agent continued.

"Again, however," the agent droned on, "I can't find any legal reason to
refuse your request for citizenship, Mr. Steele. Your name change
appears legal as well as your birth certificate. You passed the test for
citizenship, so all that is required of you now is the official oath."

"That's wonderful news, Agent Derkins," Remington stated once he could
breathe properly.

"I took the liberty of scheduling you for the next ceremony. You have
about an hour," the agent checked his watch, "before it begins. Do you
have any questions?"

Neither he nor Laura did, so Agent Derkins signed the report and handed
a copy of the ceremony schedule to Remington.

"Show that to the clerk on the first floor. She'll answer any questions
you may have," he handed the paper to Remington. "Good luck, Mr. Steele.
And, congratulations." They shook hands.

They left the office and followed another young man back down the hall.
Only once they were inside the elevator did they celebrate with another
chaste kiss.

11:30 AM

The ceremony had been quick and painless. Remington carried his American
flag and lapel pin with him outside the building while Laura made a
quick trip to the ladies room. Fred pulled the limo around the corner
and waited patiently by the curb.

"Congratulations, Mr. Steele," Fred said in his usual drab monotone.

"Thank you, Fred. I feel the need to celebrate," he told the driver and
put on his Ray Bans. Perhaps a trip to Bernardo's is in order."

"Bernardo's sir? Mrs. Steele told me that we would be heading back to
the office." Fred seemed puzzled.

"Yes, well I think we can play hooky for one afternoon, Fred. It is,
after all, my celebration. Don't worry, Mate. I'll handle her wrath,"
Remington said.

Fred gave his usual 'yes, sir' and got back behind the wheel. Laura
emerged a moment later and let Remington hold the door open for her. It
took a little longer these days for her to get into any car, let alone
the new stretch limo.

"Everything alright, Laura?" Remington asked as Fred pulled away from
the curb.

"Perfectly fine, dear. If you don't count the fact that I have to use
the restroom every ten minutes," she huffed. "If I had known I never
would have agreed to this," she huffed again.

"Oh, sure, sweetheart. Our 'agreement' as you endearingly call it would
have happened whether we discussed it or not," he said matter of fact.


"Besides, Laura. In two weeks it will be over, and you can have your
body back," he reasoned.

"In two weeks, Remington? In two weeks my body will be twisted and
pulled in ways that are very painful. Plus, I'll be breastfeeding, so
that'll be another six months! On top of that, I'll be up all night
while you're sleeping and retaining your perfectly trim body!" She
finished her tirade and put her hands to her flushed cheeks.

"Point taken, Laura," he calmly took her hand. "However, I told you that
I'll be there for everything, including the late nights. You're not
doing this by yourself, Love," he said and kissed her hand.

Laura sighed.

"I know," she sighed again. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I get that way.
I know you'll be here for everything." He could tell that she really was
trying to convince herself.

"Perhaps lunch at Bernardo's will make you feel better?" Food usually
worked to pacify Laura these days.

"I suppose. Just don't let me eat the ravioli again. I had heartburn for
three days last time," she whined.


Remington and Laura sat side by side in one of the less than luxurious
booths at Bernardo's. The place had the best Italian food in LA that
Remington could find. They didn't charge an arm and leg, either.
Considering their new house, their new baby and their new limo, they
didn't have a lot of extra cash floating around.

Laura dove into her ravioli, her salad forgotten for the moment. Warm
breadsticks lined her plate.

"I don't want to hear about it tonight while you're dying of heartburn,
Laura," he admonished between bites of his pasta.

"Water gives me heartburn these days," she stated dourly.

"Uh huh. So, you think it went well?" he asked.

"The meeting with Agent Drab or the ceremony?"

"The former. I was expecting some kind of confrontation. Questions, that
sort of thing. He seemed rather pleased to put an end to the matter. Why
do you think that is?"

"Maybe he's a fan. Who knows? Who cares? It's over now."

"Yes, well maybe he took one look at you and figured he couldn't throw
me out of the country," he smiled.

"Good thing you didn't tell him you got me pregnant as insurance against
the INS booting you out for some technicality."

Remington gave her a considering look as she lifted another fork filled
with Ravioli. "Did I?" he asked.

Laura stopped, her mouth open as she looked at him. "Didn't you?"

He reached out to cover her other hand as it lay on the tablecloth.
"Perhaps I had- other motives in mind," he suggested in a soft voice.

"To torture me?" Laura questioned. "To put me through nine months of
hell?" She dropped the fork back to her plate. "I never realized you
were such a sadist, Remington."

"Perhaps," Remington began slowly, aware that Laura's hormones had a
distressing tendency to make her misunderstand him of late, "Perhaps it
was simply that I wanted the two of us to have a child?" he suggested.

"Humph," Laura snorted, digging into her ravioli. "Fat chance."

Remington sighed, deciding to abandon the topic for the time being and
take up one that Laura was certain to prefer. "What do you think about
this latest case?"

She stopped, blinking as her mind rapidly changed gears. "The Hapgood

"I think that's the last one we agreed to take, isn't it?" he
questioned. "Unless you saw someone without me-"

"Not likely," Laura sighed. "I don't have a good feeling about it."

"Why not? It seems straightforward enough. Mr. Hapgood's warehouse has
been broken into ten times in the last two months. The guards he hired
couldn't seem to be there when it happened. His security cameras are
being gotten around, and the alarm system has been disabled every time
by what appears to be a professional."

"Yet they haven't *taken* anything," Laura pointed out. "Why go to all
that trouble if you're not going to get anything out of it?" That
warehouse filled to the brim with valuable artwork, and nothing was

"That's what Mr. Hapgood hired the Agency to find out," he reminded her.
"Mildred and I will stake the place out this evening-"

"That's another thing," Laura said. "I don't like being on the sidelines
while you and Mildred have all the fun. Mildred doesn't have her
license yet- and yours-"

"We'll be fine, Laura," Remington said, touching her hand again.
"Besides, in another month or so, you'll be back on the front lines as
though you never left."

"And we'll be worrying about who's taking care of little Miss or Mr.
Steele while we're out on stake outs," she sighed. They had decided not
to find out the sex of the baby- although it had been a strain for
Laura, not being able to decorate the nursery in the new house

"I'm sure Mildred will be glad to volunteer when the time comes,"
Remington told his wife. Placing his napkin on the table, he looked at
Laura's empty plate. "Ready? Mr. Hapgood is due at the office at two, I
believe to go over final details."

Laura grunted, her disapproval almost palpable.


Laura realized that she had read the same paragraph in her book three
times, and then looked at the clock beside the bed. Ten o'clock.
Remington and Mildred would be getting into position about now. Oh, how
she wished she were out there with them, helping.

She ran her hand over her stomach. "It's all your father's fault, you
know. I should never have given in to that charm of his. But I can't
help it. As much as I wish I could be strong and tell him no, for some
reason, when he looks at me with those blue eyes all of my resolutions
to be strong and steadfast just melt away."

The telephone rang, and Laura reached over to pick it up. "Hello?"

"Mrs. Steele?"

Laura frowned, unable to recognize the voice. "Yes," she responded
carefully. "Who is this?"

"Your husband and the other lady are walking into a trap. If you don't
want to see them hurt- or even dead, you'll stop them." The line went

"A trap?" Laura repeated before she realized that the mysterious caller
had hung up. She pressed the button on the phone. "Hello?" Hearing a
dial tone, Laura started to dial again, and then remembered that
Remington had taken the Rabbit and Mildred was in her car - neither of
which was equipped with a mobile phone. "Damn," she said, the dialed
another number. "Hello, Fred? I need you to pick me up outside the
apartment in ten- no, make that five minutes . . . No. I'm not in labor
. . . Mr. Steele and Mildred are in trouble. And we've got to help

To Part 2
(Your Turn, Celine)