This is a little something that sprung from a Remington Steele quote – hence the title. It was written in 45 minutes and betaed in ten.

Per request it is JAG, a follow-up of HFII. But for those out there who like Remington Steele it can also be read as a follow-up of "Sensitive Steele".


"I know we both want - whatever it is we have between us - we want it to go forward."

'Forward.' She wondered what forward meant. 'Whatever it is…' What was it? Friendship? Partnership? A relationship? All of these. None. He had been right. She wanted to proceed, needed to, because remaining at the place they were now was too painful.

His words resounded in her head like the water ebbed at her feet. He had gone, left her to walk the beach on her own. She could still feel his presence next to her. She wondered whether it would always be that way. Could she make herself believe it – like he wanted her to? He'd run off before, without a word. Leaving her to chase after him, to save him. What guarantees were there that it won't happen again, that he won't find a new adventure, a new dream worth following?

Men had always left her. Told her she was too strong-willed for them, too independent. Was she? Wasn't she in truth depending on him? If he were to leave, wouldn't her world come crashing down on her? All these years they'd worked together. They'd laughed and cried. He knew her at her best and her worst. She'd been there through his darkest hours.

What was it worth?

She felt the gentle wind brush through her hair, heard the sound of the waves and wished it could calm her tumultuous mind. But just like the storm tossed sea, questions crashed into one another, hardly leaving enough time to start on an answer, not to even think about pondering them. Her outward calm opposed her inner chaos. Suddenly she wished he was by her side. His warm smile cast upon her and his gentle arm around her shoulder. But she'd send him away. Again. For how long?

She stopped in her tracks, looking out at sea. Somewhere, beyond that horizon, she'd almost lost him. Lost him to his own past. What about that, would it always stand between them? His past – her past. Her father had left a huge influence on how she dealt with the men in her life. Could she change it somehow? Standing there, her right foot absentmindedly drawing circles into the wet sand, she knew she should. That to be with him, she needed to trust. Damn, she had trusted him with her life time and again. Why was it so damn hard to trust him with her heart?

She shivered. It might not be the best time but right there and then, it sure felt like the only time she had left. If she didn't act now, she might not get yet another chance. She'd already gone through a few. They'd both had let chances pass by.

Yet still, she longed to hear the words. Longed to hear his commitment put into a few simple words. A commitment he'd shown throughout the last years.

She turned, retraced her earlier tracks, now half gone with the water. Could they retrace their way, start at day one? Did she really want that? It would sure bring back the easiness of a newly developing friendship, partnership. It would still have the playful banter void of second thoughts and hidden meanings. But then it would lack the intimacy of years past. Those little things they knew about each other, the things that made their friendship only that much more special. She didn't want to miss that. It's been hard enough to be apart when it was her choice to be. She thought it was better. Back then, somewhere in the back of her head she'd known that she was making the wrong decision. She'd even hoped he'd intervene, argue about it. Truth be told, she expected him to.

She leaned down to grab a fistful of sand and threw it into the approaching wave. "Why didn't you fight me over it? Why?" The distant cry of a sea gull was her only reply. More than a year had passed since then. They'd proceeded on their way. But where were they now? 'Whatever it is…' Neither was sure. But she wanted to be sure, needed to be sure.

She climbed the cliffs back up to the house.

There he stood, leaned against his car, waiting for her. His eyes were almost shut against the sun that now was behind her. She could feel its warmth on her back, like a tender reassuring hand that guided her forward.

"Hey," she said as she approached him.

"We can still make it for lunch."

"Whatever it is that's between us…" she hesitated a moment. "What do you want it to be?"

He squinted at her, trying to make out her face against the sun. Reaching out he gently brushed against her hand. Still he hadn't said anything and she felt her hopes crashing around her. The wall she had let crack, now wasn't stable enough to hold back the flood of pain and emotional exhaustion she was certain was to come.

"I want it to be everything."

She hadn't realized how close his face had come to hers. But when he spoke, she could feel his breath against her skin. And as she turned her head to look at him, to make sure she had heard him right, but most important was interpreting him right, his lips gently brushed against her cheek.

Whatever it is… it could be everything.