Ever wonder what scenes were cut from Steele Inc? Apparently the script ran a little long, and the mystery and the antics of George E. Mulch had to take priority over the continuing romance of Steele and Laura, as well as the interpersonal 'glitches' between Mildred/Steele, Laura/Mildred. For us devotees of RS, this had to be rectified!
Thanks as always, to my editor/beta reader, that has an infallible knack for boosting my confidence when it is blown to smithereens.
As always, I do not profit from use of the characters. I am simply borrowing them to share a dream of what could have been.
Is there a story you hope to see? Drop me a line and I'll see what I can do.
Steele Cloned
It has been a unique day at the Remington Steele Agency. Okay, perhaps not unique, but not run-of-the-mill either. Yes, there had been the normal hail of bullets that had to be dodged, death threats made, suspects to chase, cars to steal, bodies to recover then hide. Yet, never before had the Agency been replicated in another city, down to the smallest detail… Well, except for the view. But then, as on any other day, Laura quickly turned to Steele and demanded answers about said replication and he, uninvolved in the scheme, had been left trying to babble out an explanation of innocence when there was no proof to be had that supported his mere word. This, of course, was unfortunately typical of a normal day as well. However, unique to this day alone was the fact the entire course of events began when Laura was informed the body of one Remington Steele lay in a morgue in San Diego.
Perplexing, that one, as he was currently sitting in the office next to hers. Thus the events of the day had begun. Now, here Laura and Steele sat in said replicated offices trying to figure out exactly what this package was, as two men had already been killed, not to mention their own lives threatened because of it. Even more perplexing, and irritating, was the question of what roles their loyal secretary cum investigator-in-training, Mildred Krebs, and her new pal, the dubious-entrepreneur, George Edward Mulch, held in the entire debacle.
"I'm telling you, Laura, this day has been absolutely absurd. You must admit I took finding out I'm dead in rather good humor but this?" He waved his hand around his faux office where they were dining on take out Chinese. "For you to believe I'd have done this! Have you forgotten I've invested an inordinate amount of time promoting the real agency? Wherever would I find time to do it with another…in San Diego no less!"
"Who knows what you might be doing on your little side trips. You have to admit, this…" she pointed at him with her chopsticks, "is not out of the realm of possibility."
"Really, Laura. I'm offended," he told her, pretending to pout, "Do you honestly believe I'd create more work for myself, which, might I point out, would mean less time spent with you?"
"Well, when you put it like that…" she drawled.
"Besides," he commented in an amused voice, "I haven't taken a side trip since I've returned from London." Laura dropped her chop sticks in the carton of lo mein she had been eating, then rose and strolled around to his side of the desk to perch on it next to him.
"Now that you mention it, I have noticed. Tell me, Mr. Steele, are you ever going to fill me in on what goes on during these side trips of yours?" She leaned towards him, brows raised. Steele gave her a double take, while setting his chopsticks on the desk, then leaned back in his chair rubbing his chin.
"Perhaps one day. Although I will say they neither involve anything illegal nor another woman. Does it really matter?" She leaned back, frown lines appearing between her eyes.
"Only in as much as you won't tell me." Steele quirked his lips, then tipped his chair forward his hands grasping Laura's hips and giving a little tug. She reluctantly slid down off the desk to find herself, with another small tug, sitting across his lap. She raised a brow to him.
"Come now, Laura. I've got to keep some air of mystery about myself, elsewise you might lose interest. Eh?" His hand hooked behind her neck and he drew her down for a swift kiss, then wagged his brows at her when she leaned back.
"Is that so?" She smiled at him bemused, looping her arms around his neck, her fingers toying in his hair.
"Mmm," he hummed in answer, drawing her to him again, for a playful touch of his bottom lip against hers, before he moved away. "Up you get," he told her with a pat on the hip. He stood then grabbed their cups from the desk and headed towards the break room as he called back to her. "Tell me, Miss Holt, precisely why are we staying here rather than in the relative comfort of a nice hotel nearby?"
"Precautionary measure, Mr. Steele. Whoever killed for that package may come here looking for it if they don't have it already," she called back to him as she closed up partially eaten cartons of food to dispose of them. She had just tossed everything in the trash when he returned to the room. Pressing his lips briefly against her neck, he reached around her and gave her a fresh cup of coffee. Taking the cup in hand, she brushed her lips against his cheek.
"Thanks." Behind her, Steele sipped his tea while staring dubiously at the sofa, while Laura watched him watch the sofa. She laughed softly, then took a sip of her coffee. She knew that, these days, sleeping on a couch at the office would be considered nothing less than roughing it by him. Her laugh caught his attention and he turned to see amusement dancing across her face. He quirked a grin at her and then clapped his hands together. "Well, since it appears everything has been duplicated down to the most infinitesimal detail," he told her as he crossed to room to the armoire on the wall, "then I should find… Ahhhh." He fished a pillow and blanket out of the bottom cabinet. He carried both over to the sofa then sat down and pulled off his shoes, placing them side-by-side under the coffee table. He leaned back on the sofa and kicked up his feet on the table, watching Laura as she paced the room tapping her bottom lip with a finger.
"It doesn't seem they've missed a trick, does it?" she asked thoughtfully. "But how did they think they'd pull it off? It was one thing when Remington Steele was a mythical man that no one had seen. But now?" She waved her hands to the wall of pictures. "You're not only well known to the public and press, but how do they explain away your lack of presence?" Laura crossed the room and flopped down on the sofa next to him, stretching out legs and resting the soles of her feet on the edge of the table.
"Perhaps as you yourself did? He works best in an advisory capacity? He's out of town at the moment?" Laura gave a small frown in response and steepling her fingers, tapped them together.
"But that doesn't fly with what we know. We have a dead Remington Steele in the backseat of the Rabbit. So clearly someone was at least posing as you. How did they think that would work? How does he explain that he in no way resembles the man in the press, in the pictures on the wall right behind him?" Steele took her hand in his, then patted it with his other.
"Not everyone can be Laura Holt. It takes enormous creativity and a great deal of ingenuity to create a man out of thin air and convince the world he exists." He ran his lips across the back of her knuckles then released her hand. Unknotting his tie, he tossed it on the coffee table, glancing at her when she heaved a sigh of frustration.
"It appears I'm going to have a talk with our Miss Krebs, very, very soon." He considered her words carefully as he removed his jacket, laid it over the arm of the nearby chair.
"I'll admit it looks incriminating at the moment, Laura, but I'm hard pressed to believe Mildred would participate in something like this, at least knowingly." She shook her head at him. "Come on, give us your jacket. You don't want to be all wrinkled tomorrow."
"Oh, ho, ho. Weren't you just telling me last week how out of control she's gotten? Or was I imagining that?" Leaning forward she slipped out of her jacket and handed it off to him before reclining back again.
"Well, yes but not to this extent." He rejoined her on the couch, leaning back as he popped open a couple of buttons on his shirt, before turning to the buttons on his cuffs. "All I'm saying is that this is Mildred we're speaking of. Let's not convict her before we've given her a chance to explain." He waited a beat, taking off his watch and laying it on the coffee table. "Laura, she's family."
Heaving another sigh of frustration, she stood, yanking her shirt out of the waistband of her pants as she walked across the room to turn out the lights, while Steele stretched out on his side on the sofa. After quickly rolling up her sleeves, mimicking Steele, Laura stretched out next to him.
"You're right," she grudgingly admitted as she settled in. "I'm just frustrated." She wiggled in a little closer to him as he wrapped the blanket around them. "Snug," she said with a smile on her voice.
"Delightfully so," he agreed, encircling her with an arm. "Rather reminds me of the first time we slept together." Laura turned her head and grinned at him.
"The sleeping bag during the Kilbride case."
"Mmmm hmmmm," he acknowledged, brushing his lips across hers before nestling in behind her. Laura laced her fingers with the hand at her waist, tucking their joined hands up between her breasts. They lay in companionable silence for several minutes before she spoke.
"This is nice." She gave his hand a squeeze.
"Mmmmm."
"An extra night together, even if we're spending it in our highjacked offices."
"Mmmm hmmm." He nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. They fell quiet again. Steele had just dozed off when Laura lurched into a sitting position suddenly.
"Oooooh nooooo," she lamented. Pushing himself up on an elbow he looked around, trying to find the source of her distress in the shadowed rooms.
"What? What is it?"
"My appointment was at 2:30. I missed it." He lay back down, pulling her along with him.
"Have Mildred reschedule it when we get back to the office. I'm sure the client will understand." She wiggled herself around until she was facing him.
"It wasn't with a client. It was my doctor's appointment." He frowned down at her.
"Have you not been feeling well?" She rolled her eyes at him.
"I'm fine. The pill. Remember?" He smiled in relief.
"Oh, well, just reschedule. I'm sure they'll understand a case took you out of town."
"It took me three weeks to get this one. If it takes that long for the next, it means another month before we can…" she left the sentence incomplete.
"Consummate this relationship?" She groaned in frustration then dropped her forehead to his chest and nodded. He chuckled as he ran his hand soothingly over her hair. She tipped her head up and looked at him in consternation.
"You're taking this awfully well," she said almost accusingly. He sighed, and swept her hair back over her shoulder.
"Laura, it's taken three and a half years for us to get here. Somehow I think we can withstand another month, if that's at all the case." She dropped her forehead back down against his chest and nodded. Above her head he smiled. "Although I must admit, I find it remarkably appealing that our having to wait bothers you as much as it does." She lifted liquid brown eyes to his before pressing her lips against his and letting them linger for several long moments as her eyes stayed connected with his.
"I want you." An electric current jolted through his body at her words, enflaming both body and heart. He kissed her swiftly and hard.
"You've no idea what it means to me when you say such things, Laura." His voice was gravelly with emotion. He nudged her to turn back over, then gathered her against him. "Let's get some sleep before I forget our agreement to keep a line between business and pleasure, and I ravish you right here, be damned who comes in."
Laura's laughter followed him into sleep.
Laura woke when the sun was just skating across the horizon. Stretching like a cat, she grinned as she found Steele's arms still locked firmly around her. It was, as always, the perfect way to start the day. Carefully reaching for his watch on the coffee table, she tilted the face towards her and saw that it was a little after six and quickly assessed that the sooner they got the day started, the sooner they could get back to LA. First order of business was waking the man beside her – never an easy feat absent his instinctively sensing danger nearby. She grinned a sly smile before pulling on her bottom lip with her teeth. This was perhaps her favorite part of starting a day with him, as she applied her newfound knowledge of how to wake him in a way that began both of their days enjoyably.
Wiggling herself around until she faced him, she propped herself up on an elbow, taking a couple of minutes to simply appreciate the man still sleeping soundly next to her. Her eyes wandered across his slightly parted lips before running her hand lightly across his whiskered jaw and cheek. She brushed the unruly lock of hair that she adored back off of his forehead, grinning at his hair sticking up to and fro. The man made her breath quicken as he slept as much as he did while he was awake.
But now, it was time to get down to the business of getting him up to face the day.
Ducking her head down, she touched her lips against his, smiling as he responded even in his sleep. A little firmer touch of his lips, had him opening a single eye before closing it quickly again.
"What time is it," he mumbled, the words barely coherent.
"Around six-fifteen," she answered sunnily. She suppressed her giggle as his brows drew into a frown.
"Bloody hell, Laura, it's the middle of the night. Go back to sleep," he murmured, then tugged her down as she knew he would, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping her in his arms. She grinned against his chest, then with a little maneuvering managed to find enough space so that her nimble hands could loosen several buttons on his shirt. Skimming a hand under the material to explore his bare skin, she lifted her head and nuzzled her face in his neck. Her mouth found the sweet spot just below the crook of his neck, and she pulled softly against the sensitive skin there.
"Need more sleep," he groused, even as his arm tightened around her. This time she did laugh softly against his neck. Her hand went into motion against his chest again, scraping her nails softly through the hair there, then traveling outside his shirt to skirt over his ribs, then hip before shimmying over a cheek of his bottom as her teeth nipped lightly at his neck. He growled from deep within his chest.
"Not playing fair," he complained, even as the hand near her waist stroked up her back, before running back downwards, to stroke her hip.
"I never do," Laura acknowledged on another laugh. Squirming her way downwards a little, she nuzzled his shirt aside with her face, her tongue flicking against the nub of his nipple as her hand feathered down his thigh before reversing course. An agile hand grabbed hers before it could connect with her target, and with a loud groan he shifted her under him while his lips found hers in a single smooth movement. Lips touched, teeth nibbled and a tongue flicked against her lips, dipping into her mouth to stroke her tongue lightly when she opened to him. Her hands slid up his back, her fingers stroking the back of his shoulders. When he ended the kiss, she grinned up him.
"Good morning, Mr. Steele," she smirked up at him, while he looked down at her with bleary eyes, a smile playing on his lips.
"Good morning, Miss Holt," he returned, a thumb stroking her cheek, before his head dipped and his lips found the column of her throat. Laura's arms moved to loop around his neck, fingering his hair she arched her head back to allow him more access. She hummed pleasantly when his mouth brushed across the hollow of her throat, then settled there, lathing it with attention. His hand glided under the hem of her shirt to stroke the sensitive skin of her waist. With a gasp and a laugh, she shimmied out from under him, leaving him face down on the couch mumbling to himself about cruel women and the ungodly hour.
"Time to get up," she sing-songed as she waited for him to flip over to his back. Then, taking his hand, she helped pull him to a sitting position.
"One of these days, Laura, the only thing your morning antics are going to get you is a tryst that won't see you leaving our bed until a decent hour of the day," he threatened.
"Mmmm, I look forward to it," she answered impishly before leaning over and giving him a searing kiss. Before she could skirt away, his hands grabbed her hips and he pulled her down into his lap. Laughing, she ruffed his hair, before kissing him on his cheek and pushing herself back up to her feet. "We've business to conduct, Mr. Steele," she reminded him as she headed to the bathroom while he remained on the sofa scrubbing at his face, trying to fully wake. A quick few minutes in the bathroom and she emerged with clothes tucked in, hair rebraided and ready to start the day. She grabbed her jacket from the chair and pulled it on, before approaching him again. Leaning down, she gave him a final, quick kiss.
"Go. There's a razor and shaving cream in the bathroom just as there is in the office. Shave, splash some water in your face, and I'll go make us some coffee." His baleful glance had Laura laughing softly as she left the office, closing the door behind her. Giving a sideways look at the office door, Steele pushed himself up off the couch and headed for the bathroom. He'd only emerged for a minute or so – time enough to partially button his shirt, knot his tie loosely around his neck, when he heard the voices of Mildred and Mulch coming from the lobby.
With a swipe at his face, he tried to shake the remnants of sleep from his head as he opened his office door, more than ready for some answers. The workday had officially begun.
With the mystery of who killed Remington Steele firmly wrapped up and Mulch called on the carpet (then rapidly granted forgiveness) for his replication of the agency, Mildred, Steele and Laura arrived back at the authentic suite of the Remington Steele Agency in the mid-afternoon. Steele quickly claimed his newspaper and adjourned to his office, kicking back in this chair and propping his feet on the edge of the desk opening the paper to the business section with a brisk snap. Laura proceeded directly to her office determined to wrap up the paperwork she had been working her way through when she received the call the day prior informing her of Steele's death in San Diego. Mildred, equally focused, retrieved messages from the answering machine then began diligently rescheduling appointments missed by the unexpected trip out of town.
Forty-five minutes later, Laura found herself staring at the same file she had opened when she first sat down at her desk. With a sigh, she tossed down her pen and leaned back in her chair. Deciding to deal with first things first she fingered through her rolodex, then picking up the handset of the phone next to her punched in a series of numbers. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes waiting for someone to pick up on the other end. After being placed on hold for a number of minutes, she was at least able to speak with someone in scheduling.
"Yes, this is Laura Holt. I had an appointment with Dr. Miller yesterday for 2:30… Yes, I know. I was called out-of-town on an urgent business matter… Yes, I understand there are many other women waiting for appointments…" Laura rolled her eyes to look at the ceiling, jaw clenching "… Yes, I understand the doctor is a very busy man…" she leaned forward and thrummed her fingers on her desk, finally losing patience with the woman on the other end who persisted on lecturing her "Look, go ahead and charge me for my missed appointment if you'd like, but can you please just stop with the lectures and give me a new appointment!" Laura's fingers reached for her brow, began to rub. "I'm sorry, I didn't' mean to be rude." She heaved a heavy sigh recognizing the new lecture was her due for losing her temper. Damn it. Maybe I should just tell the woman that there is a gorgeous Irishman that I've put off for more than three years and now all I can think about is how quickly I can get my hands on him. A picture's worth a thousand words. Maybe I should just fax her over a picture of him. I bet she'd understand the urgency then! "Thursday, February 18th at 3 p.m… Yes, I can make that. Is there any chance you have an appointment a little bit sooner?" Laura sighed as the lectures began again. "Alright, thank you very much. You've been most helpful… Goodbye." Laura considered resisting the urge to slam down the phone, then uttering "To hell with it" slammed the handset down anyway.
Opening her desk drawer, she fished out her pocket calendar, thumbing through the pages quickly. "Then endddd of Marccchhhhh?" she groaned, dramatically flopping her head down on her desk and covering it with her arms. I'm going to be insane by then. Stark raving mad. I'm going to end up back in that padded room at New Horizons, only this time I'll actually need to be there. Oh, God. I should have faxed her that picture!
She lamented the misfortunes of fate and silently the murderers and miscreants that were interfering with she and Mr. Steele finally moving forward for several minutes before planting both palms on her desk and pushing herself to her feet.
"Okay, Holt," she spoke aloud to herself. "You came out on the losing end of the first issue at hand, may as well see if you can come out on the right side of the second." Opening her office door, she strode through the reception area to Mildred's desk. "Mildred, I need to go over a couple of things with you. Would you mind grabbing us both a cup of coffee and meeting me in my office in five minutes?"
"Sure thing, Miss Holt," Mildred answered with a smile while rising from her chair. "I'll go put a fresh pot on for us right now."
"Thanks, Mildred. I'm just going to check in with Mr. Steele, then I'll see you in there." Laura watched Mildred bustle towards the break room before turning towards Steele's door. She leaned her head against the door jamb for a second, then straightening her shoulders open his door, walked into his office, shutting the door behind her. With a quick glance towards their shared door, traipsed over to his desk then perched herself on the side near his chair. Folding the paper in two, he laid it on his desk and turned his chair towards her and smiled.
"Paperwork done already?" he queried. She pursed her lips and sighed.
"Not a bit of it." His brows furrowed slightly as he noted the frustration in her posture and voice.
"Oh? Something on your mind?"
"A couple of things that I'm working on rectifying. To that end, I need you to steer clear of my office for a little while. It's time for Mildred and I to have that little chat." Steele dropped his feet from the desk and leaned forward in his chair.
"Surely you don't still think Mildred had anything to do with Georgey-boy's latest ne'er do well escapade?"
"No, at least not directly. But we still have the other matters you and I discussed last week that need to be addressed." She watched as he winced slightly then ran his hand through his hair.
"Uh, Laura, perhaps it would be best if – what is that quaint American idiom? Ah, yes. Perhaps it would be best if we just let sleeping dogs lie. You recall what happened the last time we called her on the carpet, do you not?"
"I don't think it will come to that. And if it does, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. The fact remains that this has the ability to create a considerable amount of dissention in the office if it's not addressed. I don't want that. None of us do." He blew out a frustrated breathe, trying to force himself to relax.
"Shall I barricade the reception doors in case she tries to make a run for it?" Laura laughed, drawing a smile to his face.
"I don't think that will be necessary. Just give us a little while, okay?"
He hummed his agreement with another swipe at his hair.
"And could you answer the phone while we're talking?" He looked disparagingly at the phone, but hummed his assent again.
Standing, Laura patted him on his upper arm, then walked towards their shared office door. Taking a deep breath, she entered her office, closing the door behind her.
Laura sat at her desk, then picking up the cup of coffee Mildred had placed there, took a sip, before leaning back on her chair. Mildred fiddled nervously in the chair across from her. After a few, long moments of silence, Mildred could not bear the suspense any longer.
"Miss Holt, if this is about that copy-cat agency, I had no idea that Mulch was going to do that. He showed me some renderings, trying to sell me on the idea, but I promise I never told him to do it. I didn't have any idea until we were at the morgue." Mildred fiddled nervously with her hands in her lap, looking at Laura anxiously.
"No, that's not what I wanted to speak to you about, although I do have a question now that you've brought it up." Laura steepled her fingers in front of her face and considered her words carefully. "Mildred, when you knew Mulch was involved and how, why didn't you fill in Mr. Steele and I?" Mildred looked away for a moment, worrying the hands in her lap.
"I didn't want you or the Boss to think I was involved. I thought if I corralled Mulch and we got everything… cleaned up… then you wouldn't know that I was foolish enough to even listen to his ideas in the first place."
"Mildred, how on earth did you think we wouldn't find out. You were there when the morgue attendant gave us the address to the Bay Building. Did you think we wouldn't follow up on that?" Mildred lifted her hands heavenwards.
"I panicked. I'm sorry, Miss Holt. I just couldn't believe Mulch had done it. I didn't want to let you or the Boss down."
"Alright, well, speaking of the Boss… Who do you think I blamed when I walked into those offices?" Mildred's eyes widened and her mouth fell open, aghast.
"Oh, Miss Holt, you didn't."
"Of course I did, Mildred!" Laura exclaimed, her frustration at Mildred hiding the situation and her own habit of first blaming Steele and asking questions after bubbling to the surface. "We're standing there in 'his office', his pictures on the wall, the Agency replicated down to the most minute detail. Furniture, paintings, pictures, things we keep in the armoire in his office, in the bathroom? It would take someone intimately familiar with our offices here to do that. I know I didn't do it, it never even crossed my mind that you might be involved. So who did that leave?"
"Oh, Miss Holt," Mildred quietly admonished Laura, "The Boss would never do something like that! He cares about you, the agency, too much. You should know that. I mean I know he's done worse than this under those names on his passports, but he wouldn't do that to you!"
"Which brings me to one of the reasons I wanted to speak with you." Mildred's hand raised to her mouth.
"The Boss hasn't done something has he?" Laura frowned at the older woman then shook her head sadly.
"No, of course not, but you thinking he might have goes directly to the point of this conversation." Laura stood, pacing as she tapped together her steepled fingers. Mildred turned in her chair to follow Laura's path across the carpet with her eyes.
"I'm afraid you've lost me, Miss Holt." Mildred's voice reflected her bewilderment, then sobered as she believed she'd found the answer for Laura's anxious state. "Are you and the Boss having problems? Oh, Miss Holt, I'm sure whatever it is can be worked out. The Boss cares for y-" Mildred stopped speaking when Laura absently waved a hand towards her.
"No, no, Mr. Steele and I are fine. Better than fine, actually," Laura answered her absently. Then with a sigh, turned to Mildred. "It's not the relationship between Mr. Steele and I that has me concerned." Mildred raised her hands briefly then dropped them back to her lap, a questioning look upon her face.
"You've lost me again. Why don't you just spit it out instead of tap dancing around it, honey?"
"Alright," Laura drawled, while sitting back down in her chair and leaning forward with her arms folded on top of her desk. "It's come to my attention that, since you learned of his… past… while we were in London, it appears to have colored some of your interactions with Mr. Steele." Mildred blinked then shook her head.
"I'm afraid I'm still lost." Laura growled in frustration.
"Alright," Laura said, standing, starting to pace again. "It is my understanding that during the course of the Cranston case, you told Mr. Steele you hoped he was 'worth' the trouble he puts me through. Is that true?" Mildred's mouth moved soundlessly for several moments, before she tipped her chin up with a touch of defiance.
"The Boss ratted me out?" Mildred was stunned. After all the confidences she and Steele had shared across the years she couldn't believe that he would throw her under the bus.
"Hold that thought, Mildred, and we'll get back to that. For now, I'm going to ask the questions so we can just get through this." Mildred lips tightened and a frown appeared between her brows, but gave Laura a terse nod. "Then, it is my understanding, that when you… quit … the Agency and Mr. Steele went to your home to convince you to come back to us, that you told him learning about his past has changed your opinion about him. Is that a near representation of what was said?" Mildred crossed her arms, refusing to answer. Laura sat down in the chair next to Mildred and softened her voice. "Mildred?"
"Not exactly. I believe I said something more along the lines of learning about his past had changed my outlook on my position here with the Agency, not my opinion of him per se."
"So you questioned his qualifications as a private investigator then?"
"Well, if we're being honest here, Miss Holt, with my background as an IRS fraud investigator it does seem that I am more qualified… er, have more experience… than the Boss." Laura stood and began pacing the office again, tapping her steepled fingers in front of her once more.
"Well using that as the standard of measurement, given your years of service with the IRS, you would be more qualified for my job than I. Is that what you believe?" Mildred gasped behind her.
"You know that I could never think that. You trained, then created this Agency."
"And Mr. Steele has been with me for going on four years, has been my partner for three. It has been through his work, as much as mine, that we have taken this Agency to where it is. He has completed his three years of training, has legitimately earned his P.I. license. And quite frankly, as… questionable… as some of his past may be, the skills he acquired along the way have been invaluable to our success as well."
"Miss Holt, I never meant for the Boss to think I question his ability to do his job. But my background in fraud as well my extensive experience with computer research could qualify as years of on-the-job training received."
"I'm not arguing that. You are an invaluable part of our team. Both Mr. Steele and I recognize that, which is why we have given you our blanket approval on working towards your investigative license. But as I pointed out, Mr. Steele has had years of on-the-job training in… his own unique way."
"So you see government training and art and jewel theft both as forms of training?" Mildred asked a bit baffled.
"Yes, I guess I do." Laura paced a bit more, continuing to tap her fingers again thoughtfully before speaking again. "Without his training, we would never have been able to secure The Five Nudes of Cairo before it was stolen from the exhibit we were hired to protect. We used those same skills to keep a client from being charged and convicted of embezzlement when we broke into the Federal Reserve. We saved a woman's life when we stole the Pitkins. We wouldn't have been able to save you from Edvard when he held you hostage in Malta if not for his abilities. For that matter, if not for his experience, Dominick and Sebastian would have likely been successful in their plan to kill me in Acapulco. And, of course, if not for his ability to con, Dancer would have likely killed you both when you pulled the unloaded gun on him. Could you have successfully executed a plan for or carried any of these things out without Mr. Steele's abilities? I know I couldn't."
"No," Mildred answered quietly, squirming in her chair. "So does this mean you and Mr. Steele are rescinding the offer to let me intern then get my license?" Laura turned the chair next to Mildred to face her before sitting down.
"Of course not, Mildred," Laura told her soothingly, as she patted her on the knee. "As I said, Mr. Steele and I consider you an invaluable part of this team. We have big plans for you once you get your license."
"You do?" Mildred grinned.
"Yes, we do." Laura smiled at her. "There's one more thing, Mildred." Mildred's smile faded and she looked worriedly at the younger woman.
"Have I done something else?" Her tone was almost meek in the asking.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. However, I blame myself as much as you. I opened the door and you simply walked through it." Laura pinched the bridge of her nose, while heaving a sigh.
"What door would that be?"
"The one in London, when I made the truth of Mr. Steele's past, his actual status with the agency known to you. I should have taken the time to think things through, rather than just react to his seeming disappearance again. Had I, then I would have realized how difficult my actions would make things for him… how it might change things between the two of you…" Laura shook her head, sighed. "But I can't change that. I can, however, make this very clear: Nothing has changed since the day you started with us. I may be in charge, but Mr. Steele is still the boss, my partner. There will be no more going around him to get to me in hopes I'll override him. There will be no more questioning his ability to make a decision on mundane matters. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Miss Holt." Laura smiled broadly at Mildred, then stood up and moved to the other side of her desk.
"Great. Why don't we all call it a day then. It's late and it's been a long couple of days for all of us." Mildred nodded in answer.
"I'll see you in the morning then." Mildred's hand had just come in contact with the knob of Laura's office door when Laura called to her.
"And Mildred?" Mildred turned to look at her questioningly.
"Do you want to guess who the first person was to defend you when it appeared you might be involved in the franchising of the Agency?" Laura's brow rose when she looked at her. Mildred's face fell, her lip jutting out slightly.
"The Boss?" She asked on a shaky voice. Laura nodded briskly in response.
"He cares about you, Mildred. A great deal. You're family. He wasn't 'ratting you out' when he spoke with me. He was just trying to work through it. So don't hold it against him."
"You two kids are my family too. I hope you both know that." Laura smiled.
"We do. He does. Have a good night, Mildred."
Mildred left Laura's office, then gathering her purse from behind her desk, left for the evening. Laura, in turn, let out a heavy sigh, and situated herself behind her desk. Picking up the pen she had discarded nearly an hour before, she bent herself over the file that still lay open in front of her, and got to work. She was just wrapping up her notes, almost forty-five minutes later, when there was a soft rap on the door that adjoined Steele's. Opening the door cautiously, he popped his head in. Seeing the coast was clear and Laura was now alone, he propped his shoulder against the jamb, casually crossing his legs at the ankle.
"Is Mildred still with us then?"
"Of course," she answered succinctly, closing the file she'd been working on and after setting it aside, opening the next.
Steele nodded then strolled across the room to sling his long frame into the chair across from her desk, propping his ankles on the corner of her desk. He watched her in quiet contemplation as she perused the file in front of her, adding notes here and there. Laura continued to work for several minutes, knowing all the while his eyes were upon her, before tilting herself back in her own chair, returning his gaze as she fingered the pen in her hand.
"Do you have something on your mind, Mr. Steele?"
"I was wondering if perhaps I might persuade a wonderful young woman to have dinner with me this evening."
"Do you have anyone specific in mind?" She gave him a teasing smile, while tapping the pen against her fingers.
"As a matter of fact, yes. A certain lovely detective comes to mind." He smiled as he gave his brows a quick lift. With a smile dancing across her lips, Laura raised her eyes towards the ceiling playfully giving his request serious consideration, then returning her eyes to him gave him a small grimace of disappointment.
"As much as I'd like to, I can't. I'm behind after two days in San Diego. Unless I finish up these files, they'll be coming home with me over the weekend." His brow furrowed in a frown, his lip lifting in distaste at the thought as he watched their time together slowly circling the drain. Dropping his feet to the floor he leaned across her desk and plucked the handset from the base of the phone then tapped in a series of numbers.
"Pierre, Remington Steele… Fine, fine mate… Yes, she's fine as well. Still leading me on quite the merry chase…" Steele pursed his lips at her in a quick air kiss, drawing a soft laugh from her. "Not this evening I'm afraid… Listen, Pierre, would you mind sending a couple of meals 'round to our office, late night and all… Surprise us… Right. Appreciate it mate… Yes, we'll be certain to do that… Bye now." Hanging up the phone, he nicked Laura's pen from her hand then lifted several of the files in front of her before relaxing back into his chair, feet propped up once more. Opening up the first folder, he settled in to read.
Laura opened up her desk drawer and took a new pen from it before returning her attention to the file in front of her. They worked in companionable silence for several minutes, Laura's eyes glancing over at Steele several times before she set her pen back down and gave her full, contemplative attention to the man across from her. She watched as his pen whipped across page after page of the file, thoughtfully making notes in the margins. As much as he loathes paperwork, he's as insightful as I when he does it, and often far more expedient. Since returning from London this had become a frequent enough occurrence to make it not uncommon, but neither was it commonplace. He had kept his promise made in London, taking on more paperwork, engaging in more legwork… whatever it took, it seemed, to make sure their personal time was not intruded upon by business.
But it's not just the paperwork, the legwork. There's a… a… a calmness that has descended around him since we've returned, a peace. It's almost as though once we committed to one another that something in him simply… settled. There's been no more of his ruses designed to gain my attention, no more of the frantic energy that always seemed to hum just below his surface. Even my quips today about his side trips were not greeted with nervous glances as he tried to figure out his way around them. He may not have told me what they were about, but he zeroed right in on my concerns wanting to alleviate them, gave me what I needed to allow my own fears to abate. She worried her bottom lip briefly with her teeth. Steele glanced up in that moment, saw her watching him – not that she had a moment's doubt he'd been aware all along – sent her another air kiss, then returned to his file. Well, that settles that, Holt. You're not going to get any of this paperwork done until you deal with at least this small itch.
With a smile, Laura rose and walked around to the other side of the desk. Plucking the pen from Remington's hands and lifting the files off his lap, she set them on the side of her desk. He looked up at her, a small smile playing on his lips, prepared to make a witty remark until his eyes met hers and what he saw in them made his heart still for a moment. She slid onto his lap, sitting crosswise upon it, her eyes never leaving his. Reflexively, his arms wound around her hips as her fingers brushed through his hair on either side of his head. She neither spoke nor made another move, almost content just to watch him. His tongue flicked against his lips as a touch of nervousness and a great deal of curiosity warred within him. After several moments, he swallowed hard and finally found his voice.
"Something on your mind, Miss Holt?" The words were spoken so quietly that had she not been mere inches away when he uttered them, she might not have heard. But heard them she had, and the back of the fingers of one hand found his cheekbone and jaw, whispering across them.
"You." She leaned down and touched her lips against his, before lifting her head up and tilting it to the side, her fingers touching where her lips had just been before journeying down the side of his neck, around to the back, her fingers now rumpling the hair that touched his collar. He swallowed again, his eyes darkening as one side of his mouth quickly quirked upwards before settling again. He resisted the urge to tug at his ear in response to her single word coupled with her perusal.
"Anything in particular?" It was the most clever comment he was capable of constructing at the moment given the way she was looking at him, touching him. He closed his eyes as her lips returned to his, tasting, touching, nibbling before withdrawing again eliciting a small hum from the back of his throat as his pulse quickened.
"Yes," she answered, the tenor of her voice distinctively low, bordering on husky. "I found myself appreciating this afternoon how much you bring to the Agency, to our partnership. How much I appreciate you, here with me." Remington's eyes lit up and a wide smile spread across his face at his words, before he took her head in both of his hands and kissed her fiercely.
"Miss Holt, you seem to be making it a sudden habit of saying things that make my day." She kissed him again then grinned.
"A temporary aberration, I'm sure. The lack of smog in San Diego must have gone to my head." Releasing her arms from around his neck, she pushed herself off his lap, but hadn't made it a step before his hand grabbed her own. She turned to look at him, a smile dancing across her lips. "Something on your mind, Mr. Steele?" He gave her arm a small tug. She leaned down until they were eye-to-eye.
"Mmmm. Perhaps we should take a week, really explore the sites of San Diego, eh?" He wagged his brows at her, drawing a laugh from her. She leaned over to give him another quick kiss before returning to her desk and the paperwork at hand.
They settled in companionable silence, making notes, signing off on files, each taking turns to peak at the other, pensively considering how much had changed over the course of the last several months. For once, neither of them was tempted to cut and run, to engage in ruses guaranteed to create a roadblock. It was a new chapter in their relationship, one that they relished. The realization left both of them a bit dazed and very optimistic about the days that lay ahead.