Disclaimer:

Remington Steele and its characters are owned by MTM. No copyright infringement intended. For entertainment purposes only.

Set after Season 4. Bonds of Steele and Season 5 are not in my universe.

Chapter 1

Left, right… left, right…, breathe; left, right…left, right…, breathe; left, right…left, right, breathe.

The sun was rising up. The morning had begun earlier than usual for Laura, and a run looked like the perfect way to cool off some of the heat she had stored inside her last night. The evening had started as usual; they'd arrived home from the office, he'd delivered a mouthful dinner, and they'd enjoyed the evening as always until… She couldn't detect how turned out like that. Some detective she was…

Some words had been said. Unexpected words carrying deep insecurity, a feeling they supposed gone, but that remained hidden somewhere in both of their minds.

"Don't you think it's time to call your family to let them know we got married?" He had asked her.

"I'm not ready yet," had been her short answer. They were finishing doing the dishes after dinner.

Her response had triggered an unexpected reaction from him. "Take your time darling. Do you think somewhere in your adjusted schedule, let's say… sometime near Christmas or… maybe we can wait until next year… or the maybe until another one…" he asked her with a noticeable hint of sarcasm.

"What do you mean?" she'd shot him daggers with her look.

"I don't mean anything. I'm just stating the fact that we've been married for almost a month, and you are always finding a silly excuse to avoid making that call. I'm just wondering if you're ever going to find a moment in your life to tell your family that you have a husband. But thinking again, maybe that's not part of your priorities. Maybe we are not one of your priorities to share with them. I'm beginning to think about the possibility that you are ashamed to share the news with them. That would put the brave and rebel Laura in a conventional position, dangerously similar to her sister's. Right beside a man." He neatly put the dishtowel back in its place and left the kitchen without giving her a chance to respond.

The night had been awkward. It reminded Laura the cold one they'd spent at the Friedlich's Spa. They'd slip into bed, and he'd immediately turned his back to her, his face to his nightstand's side. She'd rested her hand on his arm looking for a truce, but he hadn't made a move. It had been a frigid night, feeling him beside her but at the same time aware that he denied her any physical contact. It was frightening. After sleep spent hours avoiding her, once she'd noticed the first lights of the day filtering through the drapes she decided to go for a run hoping to chill the feeling about what was going to be like a long and rough day. Some exercising time alone could be useful to find some answers too.

Laura arrived back to Rossmore after her regular running schedule was over, with no more answers than the ones she had when she'd left the apartment. She had pictured the running as a right moment to think about what had happened the previous night, but she'd returned home as empty as she was at the beginning. She opened the door and walked in silence to their room, hoping to find him still sleeping, able to run into the shower first without having to say a word to him. They would be able to share a more civil conversation while having breakfast. But when she came into their bedroom, the bed was empty, and so was the bathroom. His aftershave was still in the air mixed with the remaining steam, so she walked to the kitchen. He was standing there, by the counter, no good morning to cheer her up, no breakfast ready waiting for her; just a cup of coffee in his hand. Coffee… The whole image looked wrong. His usual choice first in the morning was tea.

"I thought we were going to have breakfast together after my running," she told him, sudden disappointment hiding behind her words.

"Did you?" he sharply answered.

She lowered her gaze to her feet. "Well, that's what we usually do."

"I can't hardly picture this morning as a usual one." He looked briefly at his watch, "Fred must be already downstairs."

And with no more words he rinsed the cup, dropped it in the sink and left, leaving her all alone, her mind assaulting her again with the words that had been said in their last night's exchange. Words that she knew will remain in her thoughts through the entire day. A whole journey that had initially looked like an opportunity to fix things had turned in the most absolutely wrong way.