The Basement.
"Inspired idea, Laura, hiding
in the basement." said Steele.
"You had no better idea at the time." she reminded him.
"No, it's an excellent idea, couldn't be bettered! It's just
a shame about
the whole demolition thing. It's hard to follow the suspect when
most of his
house is on top of you."
"If you don't have a useful suggestion, I suggest you keep
quiet." said
Laura.
"Hey, did you ever make a den?" he asked, picking up
a piece of siding.
"We're trapped in a condemned basement. This isn't the time
to compare
childhoods."
He nodded and sat down on the concrete floor. "We've got
food. All these
jars and cans."
"They look a little old."
"No wine." he said, disappointed.
"Any ideas on getting out at all?"
He looked around and shrugged. We'll have to wait for Mildred
to realise
we're not back. At least they've stopped the demolition work."
Laura ran a hand through her hair, which was now thick with dust
and grit.
"I hate this!" she said.
"I've been in worse places." he said, "There's
an old rug over here. You can
have it, if you like."
"Mildred will be home by now. She won't know we're missing
until the
morning."
"We'll find something to pass the time." he said, spreading
out the rug.
She sat beside him. "You're covered in plaster and dust."
"You too." he said.
"Even if we yell for help, no-one's going to hear."
"On the other hand, no-one's going to shoot at us."
There was some daylight still coming in from a small hole above,
but it was
fading. "It'll be dark soon." said Laura.
Steele seemed amused. "Don't be so nervous. It's not even
a full moon. The
chances of my becoming a ravening beast are infinitesimally small."
He took out
a lighter, and a small flame danced. "It isn't much, but
could be useful."
"Unless there were gas leaks." said Laura.
"Could be a fast way of getting out." said Steele, "The
gas must be off. I'm
sure they know their jobs."
"I wish we knew ours."
"Ah." he said.
"Ah what?"
"I thought you were annoyed with me, but it's the situation,
not the
company. You wanted to chase Landers and Bligh and instead you're
stuck here. That
makes me feel better."
"I'm glad you feel better." she said, folding her arms.
She looked at the
sleeves of her jacket. "This is new! Look at it!" She
tugged at her hair,
removing a bit of plaster. "Look at me!" she said.
Steele reached over and took another piece of plaster from her
hair. "No-one
but you could carry off that look so well."
"You're very calm." she accused.
"I'm an opportunist. I've had to be. As circumstances shift
around me, I
leap for the best vantage point. When chance or fate or sheer
bad luck traps me
in a basement with a beautiful woman, sitting on the floor whining
about the
unfairness of it all is wasting precious time."
"Precious time when you could be doing what?"
He smiled slowly and moved in as if to kiss her, then stood. He
went to the
other side of the room and brought back a couple of cushions.
"Making things
more pleasant." he said, handing her a cushion.
"Quite a little nest-builder, aren't you?"
"Just trying to make us comfortable." he said.
"The two can go together."
He sat down again beside her, "Does a soaring creature like
you need a nest?"
"We all have to rest our wings sometime."
He nodded. For a while, they were silent. The light from outside
dimmed
more. Eventually, he said, "What are you thinking about?"
"A warm bath." she said.
"Sounds good."
"I can almost feel the water."
"I'm working more with my visual imagination." he admitted.
"Lots of bubbles."
"Well, not too many."
She turned to frown at him. "Would you please fantasise about
your own
bathroom?"
He laughed quietly. She softened enough to smile. He put his arm
around her
shoulder. "You know, you and I could be great together."
"I thought we were." said Laura.
"Here we are, alone together in this ..."
"Basement." said Laura.
"In this ..."
"Condemned, dirty, grimy basement."
"Its imperfections are less glaringly obvious in the dark."
"Are you hoping the same is true of yours?" she asked.
He grinned and shook his head. "You're good, Laura! I've
never had to work
so hard!"
"Are you sure I'm worth the effort?" she said, wriggling
closer.
"Quite sure, which is why I'm not going to give up."
"Pleased to hear it."
"It must be getting quite late."
"Hm. I should be getting into a nice soft bed."
"Preferably mine."
She chuckled. "I have a theory. I suspect if I ever say yes,
you'll run as
fast as you can."
"I can think of one easy way to test your theory."
"I didn't say I had any confidence in the theory."
"Coward!" he said, kissing her cheek.
She kissed him back on the lips and then whispered, "Tell
me something."
"What?"
"You choose."
"You're beautiful." he said, kissing her.
"Something about you." she said.
"I think you're beautiful." he whispered.
"I'm flattered, but you know that isn't what I meant."
"It's dark. There's no-one else around. We can be whoever
we want to be and
you want to know about me?"
"I prefer intimacy to anonymity." she said, I'm not
looking for a no-strings
fling with plausible denial. I'm not asking for any earth-shattering
secrets, just one thing, one thing I can know is real."
"It's important to you, isn't it?" he said.
"More than I'd ever realised."
"It's hard, to say something to you about who I am."
"I know, but it's dark down here and no-one else will ever
hear."
"Ask me a question. Don't make me choose something. Not my
name, though. I'm
Steele or Harry or whatever you like, but let's not talk names."
"Let's go for the abstract, as facts bother you. What do
you want?"
"Haven't I made it obvious?"
"I mean in life."
He was silent. She wondered if he would just ignore the question.
He
shuffled on the floor and seemed ill at ease. He said, "You
really want to know?"
"Yes, I think I do."
"I'd like to belong somewhere, properly belong. I'd like
some place, some
life, that I don't have to hustle for. I'm being far too honest
here, Laura."
"Does it scare you?"
"Not nearly enough."
"The dark changes things."
said Laura, "When you're alone in the dark,
you're really alone."
"Safe and hidden." said Steele, "With no-one watching
to see if you make a
mistake."
"And two people in the dark, are ... I don't know."
"Closer?" he suggested quietly.
"Hm."
"Without distractions, without all the protection we need
when the daylight
is drawing attention to all the things we'd rather forget, sometimes
we can
just relax. Look at you and me! We do our best work in the dark."
"If you're alluding to our unofficial museum visits ..."
"We're good." he said.
"We are." she admitted.
"We're the perfect team. If you ever had an urge to tread
the seamier side
of the street, we could be rich."
"I think I prefer my side of the street." she said.
"Well, as long as you let me play on your street corner,
I'm happy." He
coughed. "This dust makes the throat dry. Let's open a can
of peaches. At least
we could drink the syrup."
"Open it with what?"
"Laura, if I can get into a vault, I think I can open a tin
can."
"Sorry." she said.
"I should think so. Wait here."
"Where else would I go?" she asked.
He used the lighter to find a little stack of cans, then tried
using some of
the old and rusted tools lying around on one. It was a couple
of minute
before he said, "Laura."
"Yes?"
"I can't get it open."
She shuffled over to join him. "Have you tried the wire cutters?"
"Yes."
"Give me that chisel."
"Let me do it."
"I've let you try. Now I'm going to show you how it's done."
"Bragging before the deed is done courts humiliation."
he said.
She kissed him. "I don't make empty boasts."
She put the chisel near the top of the can and hit it sharply
with a hammer.
The chisel slipped, scraping a wide scratch in the can.
"Is it open?" he asked.
"Nearly. I need to whack it again."
"Summon up all that aggression from everything I do that
annoys you."
"I don't think I'll need that much." she said.
"Secretly, you rather like me." he said.
"I like you a lot." she said, "And it's no secret."
"Though your life would be less complicated if you hadn't
met me."
"I'm a detective. I like complicated." She lined up
the chisel again and hit
it. A small split appeared in the can. "I did it!"
"Wonderful!"
"Here, drink some."
"You first."
"Afraid they've gone off?" she asked.
"No, but you did all the work. You always do all the work.
Sometimes you
must hate me."
She widened the split with the chisel. "You'd be a hard man
to hate. Here,
take a sip."
He took the can and sucked out some of the syrup. "That's
good! Soothes the
throat." He gave the can to her and said, "Laura, be
honest. Do you like being
with me?"
"Usually, yes. You may not be the most responsible of people,
but you're fun
and you're sweet and I think you respect me."
"You only think?"
"Well, I'm fairly sure."
"I respect, admire and revere you." he said.
"Only because I give you syrup to drink. I also like who
I am when I'm with
you. When Wilson and I were together, I didn't like who I was,
which is
probably why I couldn't make it work."
"Who are you with me?" he asked.
"Laura Holt, with all her faults and flaws."
"What faults?"
"The faults that sent Wilson scurrying for cover."
"You just had more life in you than he could handle. That's
not a fault."
"But you can handle it. He used to give me a look of disapproval
and
annoyance. I constantly embarrassed him. I like being with someone
who is wilder
than I am, someone who isn't always trying to keep me in line."
"I'm usually trying to lead you astray." said Steele.
"I can live with that. You'll never be able to lead me anywhere
I don't want
to go."
"True." he said.
She laughed. "This is the kind of thing mothers warn their
daughters about."
"What is?"
"Study hard, or you'll end up in a basement with a nameless
hustler, eating
peaches from the can."
"You did study hard." said Steele.
"Yes, I did. And you have no shortage of names."
"And I'm a former hustler, really. We haven't made it to
actual peaches yet.
And this isn't an end."
"So long as Mildred arrives before they start demolition
again." said Laura.
"If it comes to it, I'll shield you with my body. Let's rehearse!"
She chuckled as he began to kiss her neck. "Mr Steele, I
think the peach
syrup is going to your head."
"Still playing hard to get."
"Do you resent me for it?" she asked.
"No, I understand. You don't want to be just a notch on the
bedpost of a man
whose name you don't know. Which of course means that you wouldn't
consider
me just a notch on your bedpost. If we ... well, if things go
that way, it
will mean something."
"And if they don't? Suppose we never get that far? If this
is all there is
..."
"Laura, are you suggesting Remington Steele could fail?"
Before she could
answer, he gave her lips something else to do. As the kiss ended,
he added,
"Besides, this is pretty damned good."
"It is." she agreed.
"And I like being with you, too."
"Even after all the others?"
"Others?" he said, "Was there ever another Laura
Holt?"
"Are you going to claim I'm unique?"
"No, you're just like every other talented investigator I've
sucked syrup
from a can with. How many women do you suppose there are who would
put so much
trust in a man they knew was a fraud?"
"I bet there have been more than a few. Some women care more
about blue eyes
than about truth."
"And some women, though sadly very few, know that the fact
that a man lies
and even lives by lying, doesn't mean that nothing he says or
does or feels is
genuine."
There was a creak above. Laura looked up, but couldn't see if
anything had
moved. "How strong do you think that ceiling is?"
"If you thought death might be imminent, would you want to
do all those
things you'd been putting off, assuming there would be plenty
of time?"
"No, I'd want to make some kind of a shelter." she said.
"Well, in that case, I won't try telling you the roof's likely
to fall in. I
think, if it were going to, it would have by now. That sound was
probably
just something cooling down."
"Are you going to suggest we should huddle for warmth?"
she asked.
"I'm sure I'll try that one eventually, if all else fails.
Doesn't quite
work as well in California as it can elsewhere."
"You've spent a lifetime elsewhere, haven't you?"
"Elsewhere, or on my way there."
"So where is home?"
He drew a sharp breath and moved away. There was an uncomfortable
silence,
then he said, "Home isn't a place. It's Daniel, talking about
old campaigns
late into the night while we empty a bottle that would have bankrupted
us had we
decided to pay for it. It's being in a dark, silent building,
knowing I can
get past the alarms. It's being with you, seeing the look in
your eyes when I
impress you." He used the lighter again, but was careful
not to let it
illuminate his face. "Dangerous stuff, this darkness."
"I like it." said Laura.
"Well, it is your accomplice. A few more nights like this,
and I'll have
told you everything."
"I wish I thought so." she said.
"Just never use any of this against me." He put the
lighter away and moved
closer again, "Is there a reward for so much honesty?"
She pulled him into her arms and kissed him. They went on kissing
until
Laura suddenly sat up and said, "What time is it?"
He pulled her down again, "What does that matter?"
"I just want to know."
"It's getting to you, isn't it?" he said, sounding amused.
"What?"
"Circumstances beyond your control. You don't like not being
in control."
"You mean being trapped here?"
His silence was eloquent. After a while, he said, "What else
could I mean?"
"I'm fine about being here. There's nothing we can do, so
it would be stupid
to let it get to me."
"Quite right. Best to just enjoy it."
"I don't need to be in control, I just ..."
"Hate not to be." he said.
"At least I don't need to have my escape planned in advance,
or to carry on
three different levels of deception to avoid ever being vulnerable."
"And I don't need to provoke an argument in order to avoid
any kind of ..."
"I didn't start this!" she said.
"And, for your information, I've been vulnerable from the
day we met. I gave
up anonymity for you."
"Not noticeably." she said.
"And when we argue, do I get on the first flight? Do I go
off and return to
my old ways, my old life? No! I try to make things right. I try
to make peace.
I seek your forgiveness, and you can't get more vulnerable than
that. But I
suppose that doesn't count. It's not enough that I've given up
running and
started to really try." He stood and began to pace. "No,
that's not enough for
you. What will be, I wonder?" There was a thud and a scraping
sound and his
tirade stopped.
"What happened?" she said.
"Walked into one of those tables." he said.
She tried not to laugh, but it proved impossible.
He heard her and came over to her. "Are you laughing at me?"
he said.
"No!" she lied, through her laughter.
"You are! You're laughing at me!" He reached down and
pulled her to her
feet, holding her close. "We've laughed a lot, haven't we?"
She was surprised by the change in his tone. She stopped laughing,
"We have."
"Laughed a lot, danced a lot, kissed quite a bit."
"Broken some laws."
"Well, bent them, anyway. Saved each other's lives."
"And endangered them."
"That too." he agreed.
"And we do a good job of scaring each other."
"Because neither of us wants to be the one who's risking
rejection." he said.
"And commitment is the most terrifying word there is."
she said.
"I'd hate to start another argument, but you're wrong."
"Oh?"
"Commitment is frightening, but there's a worse one."
"What?"
"Goodbye."
"Do you mean that?" she asked.
"Do you want me to mean it?"
"Do you want me to want that?"
He laughed, "And sometimes we don't need music to dance.
Nice footwork, Miss
Holt."
"I have a good partner." she said.
"If you were at home now, would
you be thinking of me?" he asked.
"No. I'd be asleep."
"And you never dream of me?"
"Never. I make a point of never dreaming of you." she
said.
"Well, I never dream of you either. Well, except when I do."
"What kind of dreams?" she asked.
"Happy ones, mostly." he said.
"Good." she said uncertainly.
"Do you like pine forests, Laura?"
"That's a sudden change of subject."
"I haven't changed the subject." he said, "I just
wanted to know the odds of
my dreams coming true."
"A pine forest?"
"Or there's always the ..."
"Enough, Mr Steele!" she said.
"A man can't help his dreams, Laura. Apparently you have
control of yours."
"Well, except when I don't." she said.
"And at those times, is there a faint smell of pine in the
air?"
"Stop it. It's not fair."
"All's fair in ..."
"Which is it, love or war?"
"Ah. I appear to have painted myself into a corner, don't
I?"
"You do."
"All that fresh, pine-scented air must be getting to me."
"Or the dust has infiltrated your brain."
"Or I shouldn't be standing quite so close to someone quite
so attractive."
"Then step back."
He kissed her and she returned the kiss eagerly. Another loud
creak sounded
above. They broke off the kiss to look up. "Ignore it."
said Steele.
"What if the roof falls in?"
"If we concentrate on this, we won't notice."
"We'll both be crushed."
"Not as crushed as I'll be if you stop kissing me."
"I didn't kiss you, you kissed me." she said.
"You kissed back. Or were you just being polite?"
"What time is it?" she said.
"It's time we kissed again. Seize the moment! Nobody is shooting
at us."
"I know. Somehow it doesn't feel right."
He started to laugh. "Laura, I have never met a woman like
you!"
"How long do you think it will be before Mildred comes?"
"Mildred who?" he said, trying to kiss her again, but
missing as she moved
away.
"I hope she doesn't just assume we've gone out before she
arrived."
"I'm never around that early."
"I've noticed."
"Laura, what's the point of having someone to impress the
punters if he
arrives before there's anyone to witness his entrance? It's the
agency I'm
thinking of when I stay in bed until ten."
"How selfless of you!" she said with heavy sarcasm.
"Well, I do what I can."
"So Mildred won't be surprised that you're not in."
"True, but she'll know something's wrong when she doesn't
find you sitting
at your desk with your nose buried in files."
"Maybe she'll think I've decided to emulate you."
"Maybe she'll think we went off together after finishing
our surveillance."
"That would be a serious problem, wouldn't it?"
"Potentially, yes."
"They'll come and finish demolishing everything as Mildred
flutters around
with a secret little smile thinking that you and I are snuggled
up in some
lovenest."
"Which is almost the truth." he said, "If you'd
get into the spirit of the
thing, this would be a fine lovenest."
She spoke slowly and clearly. "Mr Steele, we are going to
be demolished."
"Impossible! I am Remington Steele."
"You're not."
"Well, leaving that aside, I won't let anyone crush you but
me."
"Lovely sentiment."
"I thought so. If Mildred doesn't turn up, we'll get that
jacket of yours on
the end of something long and stick it up through that hole as
a flag."
"Why my jacket?"
"It's bright, it's small enough to go through the hole and
the demolition
men are more likely to rush to rescue you than me. Now, can we
get back to the
kissing?"
"Is that why you didn't come up with your clever flag idea
during daylight?"
"Laura, do you think I wanted us trapped down here? If I
were going to
arrange something like that, do credit me with a bit of finesse.
I'd organise
something far more romantic, far more appropriate. This place
is somewhat lacking
in ambience and slightly over-supplied with dust and grit. The
only reason I
didn't think of the jacket when the demolition team were here
was that
somebody had just knocked down a house on top of us and little
things like that do
tend to throw my concentration out of whack."
"I'm sorry. You can't blame me for wondering."
He sighed. He went over to one of the tables.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm going to build you that shelter you wanted, just in
case. If I move the
tables over our little rug, then put the siding over them, we'll
have at
least some protection. Then, I hope, we can relax."
"You sound very irritated."
"It's the dust." said Steele, "It's making me itch."
"So you're not annoyed with me?"
"Perish the thought." he said, still sounding less than
happy.
"Do you need a hand?" she said.
"No, but you could work your magic on that can again and
try to get the
peaches out. I'm hungry, and I don't like to be hungry. It scares
me. I like to
know where my next bowl of caviar is coming from."
She moved towards the can as he moved the first table. It hit
her leg as he
tried to swing it round. She let out a cry of pain and surprise.
"Laura!" he said. He left the table and felt his way
over to her. "Laura,
did I hurt you?" He lit the lighter and peered at her. "Laura?"
"I'm fine. You just hit my leg."
"I'm sorry. I feel terrible."
"Don't. It's fine. It surprised me, that's all."
"I should have been more careful."
"So should I."
"Do you want me to take a look at it?" he asked, sounding
hopeful.
"No. It's fine."
"Good. Excellent. Sit on the rug. Then I'll know where you
are."
He built the shelter around her,
using the lighter sparingly and mostly
working by feel. He was good at moving around in the dark, when
not distracted.
When it was done, he handed her the can of peaches, hammer and
chisel and she
began to attack the can again. Steele sat down beside her. "How's
the leg?"
he asked.
"Fine." she said.
"Good."
"Is the dust still getting to you?"
"Less than it was." he said.
"Good."
"Hm." he said.
She prised open the can and held it out to him. "Peaches,
Mr Steele."
"What a treasure you are, Miss Holt." he said, taking
one.
"Nice shelter." she said.
"Well, treasure must be protected."
They ate the peaches quietly. Then Laura said, "I lost track.
Are we
arguing?"
"Arguing? Us? No, everything's peachy." He touched her
cheek and she moved
back. "Something wrong, Laura?"
"You have sticky fingers." she said.
"Yes, but there's nothing down here to steal, so let's forget
my failings."
"I mean literally." she said.
"Oh. Well, I'd wash them, but there's no water down here.
I'd lick them, but
there's only so much dust a man can ingest."
She laughed.
He slipped his arm around her shoulder. "We're both in a
terrible mess. Just
remember, when we get out, we'll soon be looking presentable again.
This
isn't real. It's a mere pause on the way to somewhere else."
"It feels real." she said softly. She yawned.
"Get some sleep." he said.
"I don't want to. What if we oversleep?"
"On this floor? The pain from our tortured backs will wake
us."
"Or the pain of being crushed in a heap of rubble."
"Laura, I'm a light sleeper. Now, cuddle up and let's try
to get a bit of
sleep."
"It makes no sense." she said.
"What makes no sense?"
"Trying so hard to keep you at arm's length, then feeling
so safe in your
arms. I should be most afraid when we're closest."
"Afraid of what?" he asked.
She kissed him. "There are questions we don't ask, conversations
we don't
have, words we avoid."
"All with good reason."
"Yes, all with good reason." she agreed, "Now would
not be a good time to
talk about things that would trouble us both."
"I concur." he said, kissing her.
"Life is complicated enough."
"Absolutely."
"And we both know pretty well where we stand."
"Or lie." said Steele.
"Actions speak louder than words anyway."
"Yes. We don't need words." he said.
"Even if the words would be nice."
"But once spoken, words have a life of their own."
"Yes." she said.
She rested her head on his chest and he stroked her hair and kissed
her face
until she fell asleep. The sound of him saying, "Sometimes,
even before
they're spoken." became just a part of a confusing dream.
They woke as daylight flooded in. They looked at each other, dirty,
sticky
and looking tired. Steele smiled, "We're still alive. Hand
me your jacket."
She gave it to him. He attached it to a broom handle and stuck
it up through
the hole. Then he came back to kiss her. "A thousand thanks
for a wonderful
evening."
"You have a twisted idea of wonderful." she said.
"Anything can be enjoyable, when you're with the right person.
Back aches a
bit, though."
She moved behind him and began to massage his back. It soon had
an effect.
"Better?" she asked.
"Much. You have a very good touch." He turned around,
"I don't want to be
rescued." he said, looking into her eyes.
"Remington Steele can't die dusty." she said.
"Of course. Still, he'd get points for dying in the arms
of a woman like
you."
"Women like me don't sit around waiting to die." she
said, going over to
wave their flag.
Her arms were getting tired when they heard voices. A very familiar
one was
saying, "I know they were here. I'm worried." Another,
quieter voice replied
indistinctly.
"Mildred!" shouted Laura, waving the broom handle as
much as she could.
"Mildred!" yelled Steele, "We're down here."
"How did you get in there, Chief?" asked Mildred as
she got to the hole.
"Through the house which they then demolished. You'll need
to find someone
to dig us out."
"Right." she said, "Are you okay?"
"From the moment we heard your voice." said Steele.
Mildred went off to find help and Steele smiled at Laura. "Ready
to go, Miss
Holt?"
"I think so." she said.
"I'd just like to say, you're very good in the dark."
The End