The Alternative Universe Series
Toss the Twilight Zone experience of Season 5 into the proverbial trash can. These stories pick up after Steele of Approval. While Approval still exists, more importantly these stories look at season 4 as most of the viewers saw it - Laura and Remington had crossed that line, imbuing that Season with the "Mr & Mrs Steele" feeling that most experienced.
To get the most out of my stories, I recommend reading them in the following order:
Steele Forsaken (Part 1 of 3 in the A Holt New Beginning Series)
Steele Mending (Part 2 of 3 in the A Holt New Beginning Series)
A Holt New Beginning (Part 3 of 3 in the A Holt New Beginning Series; Takes place during and after Steele Searching)
Holt the Presses (Takes place during and after Steele Blushing)
The Holt Truth (Takes place during and after Forged Steele)
You've Gotta Know When to Holt 'Em (Takes place during Premium Steele)
Holt the Sugar (Takes place during and after Coffee, Tea or Steele)
Not So Merry Steele (After Dancer, Prancer, Donner and Steele)
Snippets of Steele (Missing scenes from Steele on the Air, Steele Inc, and Steele Spawning)
Holting Down the Fort (During Suburban Steele)
Steele Admired (During and After Santa Claus is Coming to Steele)
Steele Moving Forward (Sensitive Steele)
Steele Yours (Steele at Your Service)
Her Holt Heart (Pre Beg, Borrow through the end of Season 4 [No Bonds])
As usual, I do not own the characters. I simply borrow them.
March 27-March 30, 1986
Chapter 1: An Invitation
Remington woke on Thursday morning, and carefully untangled his legs from Laura's then eased away, so that he might turn on his side and enjoy watching her for a spell, as had become his habit in the last months. She protested his absence in her sleep, and shifted until she found him again, tucking herself back into the curve of his body before sighing softly and returning fully to her dreams. His lips twitched with suppressed laughter and he bussed her on the top of the head, bemused to know how annoyed she'd be if she realized she sought him out regularly in her sleep. Not that he wasn't guilty of the same, for nothing could rouse him awake quicker than finding the sheets cool next to him, where her slender body belonged.
It continued to amaze him, that. For a man who'd spent all his adult life departing before the morning after arrived, he'd discovered in recent months that he no longer slept worth a damn when she wasn't next to him. It was his biggest grievance with where their relationship stood now: There were still far too many nights each week when he retired to bed alone. He enjoyed falling asleep with her and waking up to her as much as he did arguing, engaging in a round of rapier wit, and making love with her. But upon their return from the Friedlich Spa he'd promised to be patient, as she worked through the fears and concerns which would inevitably accompany the thought of extending their days and nights together into the work week.
All-in-all, he couldn't complain, as they'd taken enormous strides outside of this one particular area. Earlier this week, after they'd wrapped up the Gray case, she'd simply shocked the hell out him when she'd turned to him as they were watching a movie in his flat and had said…
"Come with me to Bernice's wedding." He must have been a sight, mouth hanging open, eyes agog, in response to the completely unexpected invite. When he recovered his faculties enough to form a coherent thought, he'd swiped at his mouth with his hand while attempting to formulate a response more in keeping with his suave image.
"Uh, Laura…" was what came out instead, not at all what he was aiming for. Amused brown eyes regarded him.
"You did say you wanted our relationship out in the open, among friends and family at least," she reminded him.
"Well, yes, I did, but—"
"And Bernice is one of my closest friends," she pointed out.
"Yes, yes, I know but—"
"Besides, she already knows about us. As a matter of fact, she asked specifically if I was bringing you." She casually dropped this bombshell as though announcing the temperature outside.
"Oh? Might I ask when you told her? I don't recall you making mention of it to me." His own curiosity had been pricked. She shifted slightly next to him, and cast him a tentative look, not at all in keeping with her formidable personality. "Laura…" he drawled her name.
"I'm thinking, I'm thinking," she protested. Finally, with a scrunch of her nose, she answered, "Since the morning after you sent me that magnum of champagne?" A smile appeared on his face at that. Dammit, she lamented silently, knowing she'd just stroked his considerable ego.
"Ah, impressed you after all, did I?" he asked smugly. She feigned boredom.
"Not really," she deadpanned. "We talked about Kessler and Ness tailing you and I in the limo that evening. The subject of the champagne barely came up at all," she prevaricated, smiling as she recalled how she'd bragged excitedly to Bernice about that very bottle.
"Never give an inch, do you Miss Holt?" he grinned.
"Someone's has to keep you on your toes, Mr. Steele," she retorted with a smile for him. He barked a laugh at that.
"You certainly do that," he complimented. "Now, how much does she know?" Her smile faded and she fidgeted for a long minute, before she turned her head and looked him in the eyes.
"Everything," she shrugged. He pursed his lips and nodded his head slowly.
"Anna? Cannes? London?"
"Everything," she repeated, her eyes continuing to hold his.
"And how long after we arrive until I should expect to be drawn and quartered?" he inquired, only half-joking.
"Actually," she drew out the word, "You might be surprised to know Bernice has been in your corner far more often than not. In fact, a great many things played in your favor because she'd insist I keep things in perspective, to make my decisions based on the present, not the past."
"You're saying, then, that I owe Ms. Wolfe—"
"Fox," she interrupted to correct.
"Ms. Wolfe," he repeated with a mischievous gleam in his eye, "A debt of gratitude."
"You might start with calling her by her real name," she observed, drily. "You're as bad as Daniel and Felicia with their Linda's and Lisa's."
"A man has to take his fun where he might find it," he countered.
"So, will you go with me? To her wedding next weekend?" she asked, returning to the topic of hand.
"I suppose that depends…"
"Oh, on what?" He lifted a brow at her.
"On whether or not Michael's will be there as well." Her peals of laughter floated through the air of the room.
"You'd think after two-and-a-half years, this rivalry would have long been buried," she noted. "You won, not that Murph was ever in the game other than as a friend and partner. Get over it."
"It has nothing to do with our rivalry for your affections, Laura,"he grumbled, "And everything to do with the fact he was constantly in your ear, reminding you of what a 'bum' I am while urging you to send me packing. And I'd wager, he still does the same whenever you speak."
"Even if that were the case, and I'm not saying it is,who cares? You're here, we're here. Isn't that what matters?" she posited. He gave a reluctant shrug of his shoulder, determined to prolong his pout. With a roll of her eyes, a shake of her head and a silent laugh, she rubbed her hand against his chest, then patted it. "If you don't want to go, I understand, although I'd hoped you would. Otherwise I wouldn't have reserved the king suite overlooking Central Park…" she let her words trail off. True to form, he perked right up.
"No separate but equal?" he asked. True, it seemed a silly question to ask given they regularly shared a bed these days, but one could never speculate when her inhibitions or fears might rear their head.
"No hiding, remember?" she asked by way of answer.
Which is how he'd ended up spending Thursday night with her at the loft. Their flight would depart LAX at ten-fifteen, and Fred had already been given instructions to pick them up from Laura's at nine. Which, he confirmed with a glance at the clock, would give him time to shower and make them breakfast before their departure… if he didn't lounge about in bed all morning. He gave her arm a brisk rub, until she hummed her notice she was awake. Bending over, he pressed his lips to her cheek, allowing them to linger a scant second.
"I'm going to shower, then make us a bite to eat before we leave." She nodded her head and flipped over onto her stomach, yelping when a large hand landed squarely against a cheek of her derriere.
"Mr. Steele," she growled. He chuckled unapologetically.
"We've no time to dawdle this morning, Miss Holt. Just doing my part to make sure you're fully awake."
"One of these days," she warned, holding a fist up, her face still buried in her pillow. He grasped that fist, uncurled the fingers, and peppered kisses over her knuckles.
"Ah, but then you'd have to play nurse to my patient, and we both know how much you dislike that," he commented with a laugh as he climbed from the bed.
Following a loud groan into her pillow, she flipped to her back and watched his attractive, pajama bottom clad visage until it disappeared into the bathroom downstairs. Sitting up, she drew her hands through her hair and allowed herself a minute alone with her nerves.
There was no way to honestly deny this was a momentous step forward for the two of them. Her family had been one thing as they'd adored him from the start. She'd merely had to… and would continue to… fend off the questions of future plans. Annoying, to say the least, but somehow less so than the normal 'you'll never catch a man with that attitude, Laura' speeches she'd been subjected to most of her adult life.
But this? She hadn't spoken with Murphy for months, and that conversation had not gone at all well. It had taken place shortly after she and Remington had returned from London. 'I told you so's' had abounded on his part, coupled with any number of variations of 'You were finally rid of the louse' and 'What are you thinking, Laura's'. Rationally, she understood Murphy believed he was looking out for her, acting as the proverbial voice of reason. But his timing had been… poor. After months of suffering throughout endless days and nights of not knowing where Remington was, how he was, now that he was back in LA with her, committed to her… in her bed… she simply wanted to be…
Happy.
She broke out in a wide smile, as she turned her head in the general direction of the bathroom, laughing softly. She listened as Remington sang in the shower, something he'd begun doing out of the blue, a couple weeks before. His pitch wasn't perfect, and he was at times off key, but it was somehow endearing and charming at once, despite the imperfections.
She suspected he had no idea he was either doing it… or could be heard. She could hear him now…
"Don't be ridiculous, Laura," a good dose of snobbery infusing his words, "Only a sentimental fool would indulge in such frippery."
Since she enjoyed this unexpected side of him, she never said a word about it, lest she risk it coming to an end. That she simply couldn't help smiling a bit brighter on days when he did it? Well, he hadn't called her on it yet.
She climbed out of bed when the singing ceased and the pit-pat of water in the bathroom stopped. Selecting her brown tweed suit with the ankle length skirt and matching silk shirt, as she went downstairs to prepare for the day ahead, she couldn't help but look forward to this trip with great relish.