This one-off takes place during Season 4's Steele on the Air and was written in request to IcyCalmMissHolt's request that I infuse a little romance into an episode where it was decidedly missing.

My endless thanks to my editor-in-chief, best beta-reader I could have ever hoped for - my friend from Steele Watchers. Thank you, again, for keeping me true to character and fixing all my fun little typos derived from enthusiastic typing.

For the best experience when reading my stories, you will want to read them in order as the continuity of events is moved from one story to the next. The following is the order of current stories:

Steele Torn & Trying to Holt On
Cannes Steele be Trusted (co-written with the super-talented SuzySteele)
Steele Mending
Steele Working out the Details
Steele Settling In
Steele Finding Comfort
Steele Holting on To Christmas
Steele Holting on To The Holiday
Holting On To The Moments
Steele Cold Relief
Be Steele My Heart - Book 1

As always, if there is anything you would like to see in future stories or a story you would like written, just drop me a line.

I do not own the characters, profit from them, and write purely for the enjoyment..yada yada

Holting On & Steeling Moments

(Chapter 1)

Laura and Steele were in the reception area of the Agency. Laura persistently tapped at the keys of Mildred's computer, while Steele hovered close by, clearly out-of-sorts. Laura knew he was on edge, had been for days. If she were honest with herself, and she was trying to be more honest with herself where they were concerned these days, then she had to acknowledge his state had less to do with the case at hand, the potential People magazine cover and, yes, the increasingly demanding Mildred and far more to do with the state of affairs between them.

At the moment, he was choosing to focus his jangled nerves on Mildred's latest escapades and the predicament said escapades put he and Laura in.

Mildred had, just hours before, latched on to the Doug West case – the pilot for KROT radio station who had been murdered that morning – as yet another opportunity to level the proverbial playing ground between she, Laura and Steele, and after applying pressure on the couple now sat ensconced, undercover, at the station as the newest phone-in sex therapist. This, of course, meant that the tasks normally assigned to Mildred, and in which she excelled, were left in the hands of Laura and Steele. While Laura was becoming increasingly proficient at using the Agency's computerized resources, Steele still found the machines confounding. At the moment, both of their frustration levels were mounting: hers because the machine was not easily giving up its secrets to her, although it always seemed to be cooperative with Mildred, and he, because he wanted to be out doing legwork – Legwork? My God, has it really come to the point that I'd rather be out doing legwork than to be this close to her? – but was currently stuck in the office as Mildred ran off to play detective.

"Really, Laura," he said now, "This has gotten out of control. Us, sitting here, dealing with this monstrosity, while Mildred is out there working our case."

"Well, you're the one who encouraged her to spread her wings," Laura reminded him.

"Yes, but not at the expense of the nest, for…I mean, whatever happened to good old Mildred? Sweet, adoring, servile?"

"She found out her boss is a fraud, remember?" Laura responded off-the-cuff, not seeing his cringe, yet knowing that he had nonetheless. She mentally lambasted herself for the snide remark. Damn. What is it about me that I feel the need to take digs at him when I'm on edge? It doesn't help either of us, doesn't change the situation, only pricks at him and makes him bleed a little.

Steele looked at her, the snarky comment registering, sinking in. "Sometimes the truth can be so…unnecessary." She's no idea what it's been like, old sport. Keep that in mind. You've not exactly shared with her the comments Mildred had made since Laura spilled the beans. Leave it alone. You've bigger problems to deal with at the moment with your Miss Holt.

"I don't mean to inconvenience you, Mr. Steele, but could we focus on our background check of Doug West?"

Steele leaned in closer over Laura's shoulder, looking at the monitor that still stubbornly refused to display the information they were seeking. With his head now only inches away from her neck, hovering only mere millimeters over her shoulder, he was immediately distracted by what was truly bothering him. He could clearly smell the honeysuckle scent of her hair, the faint scent of the expensive perfume she always wore, remembered how it felt to kiss, nip, taste her beautiful neck. Something she's not allowed since the morning after we returned home from Vail, he reminded himself.

And therein lay the problem.

Laura had backed away again. He'd been grateful, bloody grateful in his own words, when she had turned to him instead of away the night they'd come home. When they'd arrived back in LA from Vail, they'd separated, gone to their own apartments, leaving both to stew in their own insecurities. For his part, he knew that she was going to put distance between them again, that when left alone to her own thoughts, she would second, third and fourth guess the time they had spent together and convince herself they had overstepped safe boundaries. He was correct. Laura had spent her time regretting her boldness while they were in Vail, and by the time she had picked up the phone to call him, had every intention of telling him they needed time, space. Yet, when he told her he missed her, before she could ever speak the words, she had found herself turning to him instead of away, asking him to spend the night at the loft. He'd gladly accepted the invitation and while they lay in bed that night, discussed her fears. They'd fallen asleep, tangled in one another's arms, he believing all would be fine, that they'd actually managed to successfully traverse the minefield of her fears.

Then it became clear they hadn't, at all.

She'd woken him the next morning in that delightful way of hers, with small touches guaranteed to stir him as her lips danced across his. They had enjoyed a leisurely breakfast at a café near the office, before spending a fairly boring day at the Agency. The slow period around the holidays, marked by what appeared to be one-and-all's good will towards men attitudes, meant Laura would commit herself - and him by the wayside – to reviewing all cases which had been cleared before the holidays, wrap up billing prior to the end of the fiscal year, and packing away old files in preparation for the new year ahead. While this was, by far, not Steele's favorite task, the fact it meant they would spend the days working side-by-side, almost made up for the tedium.

The first ominous sign of her withdrawal happened the night after their return from Vail. While they'd enjoyed a pleasant night in at Steele's place – dinner prepared by him, followed by wine as they stretched out before the fireplace – as they'd engaged in some skin tingling kissing, the moment his lips left hers and journeyed down her neck, he'd felt her stiffen. He'd willingly backed away, as he had for the many years preceding and had gracefully accepted when she fumbled around excuses for why she needed to go home. He knew Laura well enough to know she needed time to acclimate to any changes, large or small and certainly the advancement of their relationship in Vail had been anything but small. He'd not truly begun to worry until New Year's Eve.

Prior to Christmas they had accepted the invitation to Tracy Crockett's annual New Year's Eve party. Since they had helped Tracy prevent the takeover her father's company, not to mention introduced her to the twin sister she never knew she had, they'd been must-have guests at the Crockett affair. The change in guard from 1985 to 1986 would mark the third year they'd been in attendance.

Laura had chosen to drape herself in the white gown that she'd worn to the first dinner party they'd ever held jointly, the one held during the course of the Dillon case, in which the murderer was revealed. The dress left one shoulder bare, and clung to her slim frame in a way that made his heart beat a little faster. Throughout the night they stayed at one another's side, conversing with other guests while sharing small touches, dancing, and at midnight sharing a kiss that had started soft and tender, but escalated into deep and tantalizing, leaving both breathless when they parted. Their eyes had held as they wished one another a Happy New Year. When they'd departed the Crockett manor nearly an hour later, Steele was certain they would spend that night together, whether simply sleeping with their bodies wrapped around one another or, as was his secret hope, starting the New Year with a thorough exploration of one another as they'd enjoyed during their time in Vail. When Laura gave him a sweet kiss as Fred pulled the limo up in front of the loft and had then wished him a good night, it was only then he realized how far she was attempting to remove herself from him once again.

Not exactly an auspicious beginning to the New Year.

Yes, they were still committed, still spending their evenings together. But gone were the intimacies they'd been permitting themselves. Had it only been that she'd closed the slopes – no blue slope and certainly no Black Diamond as one had to navigate the first course in order to reach the second – he would be far less on edge. That she'd opened herself up that far in Vail, had taken the risk at all, was a major milestone in their relationship. To him, it was remarkable progress that they had reached that point at all, even if they did have to move back to the green slope while Laura battled her demons. It was ever widening gulf between them that had him on edge now, as Laura had slowly but purposefully begun backing away from the small touches they had shared throughout the day, the more ardent kisses at night.

Bloody hell, Laura, he thought to himself now, I need to be close to you right now. I need to know you're not about to run again, to end us.

Unable to resist the temptation, he leaned in to press his lips against her neck. He closed his eyes, relishing the shiver he felt go through her body at the contact. Laura jerked sideways, removing her neck from his reach.

"Background check, Mr. Steele. Work…professional behavior…remember?" Laura reminded him mildly, continuing to focus on the machine in front of her. That she failed to predict his reaction spoke volumes about how much space she had forced between them in the last ten days.

Steele glanced at her, then stood to his full height, took a purposeful step back, then cocked a hip to half-sit on the desk.

"Of course, Miss Holt." While his response was nothing less than courteous, as was his way, Laura missed the mordant undertones of his words.

He stewed in his own sauce for the better part of a half hour, offering only mono- and bi-syllabic responses to her comments, which appeared to go unnoticed by her. At last he stood and walked into his office rolling down the sleeves of his shirt, refastening his cuff links as he went. I bloody well have to get out of here before I explode. That, for certain, will do little good in resolving the problem at hand. Grabbing his jacket off his chair, he exited his office and strode briskly through the reception area. He'd just shoved open the Agency doors when Laura looked up, surprised and called out to him.

"Hey, where are you going?" Her shock that he was leaving in the middle of the day without a word of explanation clearly shone in her voice.

"Out." His answer was brusque, cold spoken without so much as a pause in his step as he passed through the door and headed towards the elevator.

Laura jumped out of her seat and gave chase, stepping into the hall in time to watch his finger stab at the elevator button.

"Mr. Steele, it's the middle of the day. Need I remind you that we have business to conduct?" She involuntarily took a step back as he leveled an icy blue glare at her.

"I'm sure you'll be fine on your own, Miss Holt. It is, after all, how you prefer to be. You've made that much perfectly clear more often than I'd care to remember." He slung the words at her, not caring in the least at the moment about the fleeting hurt and confusion that crossed her face. With a ding, the elevator doors slid open, and he stepped inside, not looking back.

Laura watched the doors close behind him, then stared at the elevator as though willing him to come back. When the elevator continued obstinately downwards, as indicated by the lighted arrow above the door, she slowly turned and walked back into the suite. Bypassing Mildred's desk, she walked, a bit dazed by what had just occurred, into his office. Swinging up to sit on the window sill, she parted the drapes and watched below, searching for something, someone. She half expected to see the Auburn exiting the garage below, or at the very least Fred pulling up to the curb in the limo. What she hadn't expected was to watch as Steele exited the building, stopping at the curb, his hand swiping through his hair as he looked left then right, then with a second and final sweep at his hair, turn right and begin to walk away briskly. She watched until he disappeared from sight, and only then did her hand reach for her brow as she lay her head against the cool window pane.

What are you doing, Laura? He's hurt, angry, confused. Why wouldn't he be? You're doing it again, shoving him away. What are you going to do when you lock him out one time too many and he finally just washes his hands of you? You know that isn't what you want. So why do you keep doing it?

Laura sighed deeply, then sliding off the sill, moved to plop down in Steele's chair before picking up the phone and tapping in a 11-digit number. The phone on the other side of the line rang three times before it was picked up.

"You better hope you're not a salesman, because so help me if you woke the baby when I just got him to sleep, it will be the last cold call you ever make." Bernice's voice came across the line, direct as always, not giving so much as a damn about what the caller might think. Laura giggled in response to her friend's non-customary greeting.

"I'm afraid to ask what my punishment will be if I woke him," Laura said with mirth.

"Laura! Thankfully, all is silent so I suspect the little man is still sleeping blissfully. But had you woken him? I'd see to it that you never investigated another case!" Bernice's laugh joined Laura's.

"I think that would violate the eighth amendment's clause against cruel and unusual punishment. Never investigate a case again? Surely you can think of something slightly less painful."

"Fine, a month at your mother's then."

Laura shuddered. "My P.I. license is yours for the taking." The two women laughed together, as Bernice knew only too well the difficult relationship between Laura and Abigail. "Seriously, how is the baby?"

"Getting into everything and making me absolutely crazy. I wouldn't give up a moment of it for anything."

"And Jason? Still planning to finally tie the knot with him?"

"Absolutely. And no excuses, Laura. You'd better be at the wedding."

"I will be, I promise."

"Will you be bringing along anyone I know?" Bernice was teasing, knowing full well that if Laura appeared with an escort it would mean Steele would be in tow. She frowned, as Laura sighed heavily on the other sign of the line. "Alright, spill, what's he done now?"

"He hasn't done anything."

"Alright, then what have you done now? Tell me that you finally let him rattle your teeth and are having morning after regrets." Laura sighed again on the other side of the line. "I take it that's a no. So what gives?"

"What's wrong with me, Bernice? Why do I keep shoving him away?"

"Do you need to hear it again?" Bernice's voice held concern. For years she'd watched her friend shy away from the dating scene and had wondered if anyone would ever spark Laura's interest enough that she'd finally let go, take a chance. When Steele had first wandered into the picture, Bernice had thought the man might finally give Laura a good teeth rattling that would propel her back out into the dating world. Date him? Heck no. Jump in the sack, have a good time, remind her what she was missing? Abso-frigging-lutely. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined during the year she and Steele were both with the agency that one day she would end up becoming one of his most ardent supporters, in a round-a-bout way at least. But, she'd become exactly that.

"I think I might."

"Okay. How many years has he been there now, Laura?"

"Going on four years now."

"Four years. The mysterious stranger that never stayed anywhere for more than a few months. What did I tell you a year and a half ago, six months ago, about that?"

"That the fact that he'd stayed that long carried mathematical significance."

"And what else?"

"That a man doesn't stay around that long for just a job."

"Right. Now, did the man wait you out after you dumped him in Europe? Did he come back to LA after you left him to go to Mexico with that attorney?"

"He doesn't know about William…" Laura hedged.

"Forget about the attorney. Did he stick around after Europe, come back after the last time you dumped him?"

"Yes."

"And what did we decide about that?"

"That it carried even more mathematical significance."

"Exactly. Cold, hard logic says the man plans to stick around. Now what's he done so right this time that has made you set aside mathematical certainty in favor of illogical emotions?"

Laura started laughing. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"You're forgetting, I worked with the man for almost a year. I'd believe almost anything."

"He took me on vacation to Vail after Christmas."

"Laura, are you telling me you finally let the man rattle your teeth?"

"No, but we firmly rounded third base."

"And? Details, I want details."

"Let's just say if the preliminaries are any indication, getting my teeth rattled won't even begin to describe what it will be like when we slide into home."

"So then what's the problem?"

"Problems. Partly, that I still don't know how he feels about me. Mostly, that I want to be with him as much as I can be and I'm worried the pressure of that will send him running for the hills."

"Okay. First things first. Have you told him that you're in love with him yet?"

"Of course not. I don't know…"

"Laura, remember who you're talking to and don't start with the denials or I'll simply hound you until you admit it."

"No, then, I haven't told him I love him… that I'm in love with him." She stumbled over the words, even though she'd admitted her feelings to Bernice long ago. Okay, Bernice had pried the admission out of her long ago, in all fairness.

"Do you believe he loves you?" Bernice asked, already knowing the answer to the question as they'd spoken more than once on the topic.

"I think so, yes."

"Then what's the problem? Tell him already."

"And if I'm wrong? It will always be out there."

Bernice frowned at the phone. "Take a risk already. You'll never know unless one of you makes the first move." Laura remained stubbornly silent. Bernice shook her head. She'd tried to convince Laura many times before to just go for it, without success. She knew a losing battle before it began, and decided to let it go. "Okay, so what makes you think he'll run for the hills? The man's finally getting something after all these years, and you think he's going to take off now? Seems to me he would have cut his losses after years of getting nothing at all, not now."

"It's… complicated. It's not the part about moving our sex life ahead. It's the other things."

"What other things? As far as I know we've already covered the three big ones: love, lust and loss."

"Since London…not all the time…well, really just London and once since until Vail…Oh, hell. If you laugh at me Bernice, I swear I'll never tell you anything again."

"Enough with the threats. Just spill it already."

Laura thrummed her fingers on the desk. "Fine, we've been sleeping together."

"Laura Holt, are you telling me you've been holding out on me? That you've been getting that itch scratched for months now and haven't given me the details…"

"No, no, Bernice. Nothing like that." Laura interrupted the other woman with an eye roll, then was mortified when a blush crept up her face even before she spoke the words. "Just sleeping together. You know, good night, sleep, good morning… sleeping together." She stilled, waiting for the other woman's laugh.

"Sleeping together….You and Skeeziks just sleeping together." In her kitchen, Bernice turned and leaned her back against the counter thoughtfully. "Yeah, I can see why that would have you on edge."

"What do you mean?" Laura was flummoxed by Bernice's response. She'd expected the woman to laugh, to tease, to find the words to make her realize she was being far too serious about the situation. Not this.

"Well, think about it, Laura. Why do so many women do the walk of shame after a one-night stand? Why do so many men slip out of bed in the middle of the night and disappear? Why is it easier to dispense with the morning after with another quickie, then tossing on your clothes and getting the hell out of there?"

"Regret, embarrassment?"

"No, Laura. Because sleeping with someone – just sleeping – is in many ways more intimate than sex. And to just sleep together without the sex? To just want that closeness with another person? Yeah. I can see why you'd be edge. And him? Wow. I'm betting you really have Skeeziks tied up in knots."

"How do you figure that?" Laura's curiosity was peeked now.

"Laura, the only reason a man 'just sleeps' with a woman is because he needs an intimacy with her that doesn't even come with sex. Take it from the belle of the ball who searched bars, clubs and parties everywhere and never found that. The man's got it bad for you. So what's the problem?"

Laura sighed deeply then searched for her brow with her fingers. "I don't know," she growled the words, clearly frustrated. "What's wrong with me Bernice? I want him with me, especially at night. It's never been like that, not even with Wilson and we lived together! I wake up at night looking for him, as though even when I'm sleeping I'm trying to find him and can't. When he's there I feel… I can't believe I'm going to say this… I feel safe, happy… at peace. When he's there, I can't imagine it being any other way. It's out of control, Bernice. I'm out of control."

"Well thank God for that! It's about time some of those walls you've built around yourself are coming down, that you're starting to break some of those rules that you've surrounded yourself with."

"They're there for a reason. They keep me from getting out of control, they keep me…"

"From getting hurt. Like your father. Like Wilson." Bernice finished the sentence in exasperation. "You're wrong, Laura. The only thing they are keeping you from doing is living. I have a couple of questions, and I want your word you'll answer me honestly."

"Alright." Laura agreed hesitantly, knowing that Bernice had a penchant for getting straight to the matter.

"Were you and Skeeziks happy in Vail?"

Laura let her mind wander back in time, as their moments in Vail ticked through her head: The dancing, skiing, Steele reading to her while they were in bed together, sledding down the hill out back, making snow angels, the hot tub… oh, the hot tub…the nights falling asleep in one another's arms and in the morning waking still wrapped around each other. Happy seemed a gross understatement of what they were while in Vail.

"Yes, very." She smiled as she realized she meant it.

"Are you happy right now?"

She took a moment, thinking about the last ten days: backing away from him, when she only wanted to get closer; her handy excuses so that she could make a hasty exit from his apartment in the evenings; the restless nights, wanting him near; this moment, here and now and the feeling they were losing everything that had been working for.

"Not exactly."

"And Skeeziks? Is he happy?"

"Hurt, angry, would be a more accurate description." She sighed loudly, remembering the look on his face, the words he'd hurled, the clear frustration he'd exuded as she'd watched him on the sidewalk below.

"Logically, then, it would seem those rules, those walls of yours aren't keeping you from being hurt. They're only keeping you from being happy, while hurting both of you. What do you think?"

"What would you do, Bernice?"

"You know what I'd do. I'd go for it. Listen, Laura, I've got to run. The little man just woke up, and if I don't get in there, he'll try climbing out of the crib."

"Go, go." Laura laughed, still having a hard time picturing Bernice as a mother. "And Bernice, thanks."

"Any time. Remember, New York City. I expect to see you there with a certain Irishman in tow. I've got to run, literally. Bye."

Laura hung up the phone then stood and returned to look out the window, pulling herself back up on the ledge to sit after a moment. She scanned the ground below for any sign of Steele to no avail. She remembered again the icy blue glare, the cold, clipped words spoken as he'd left and closed her eyes. Bickering and arguing were nothing new to she and Steele. No, they imbibed nearly daily. In fact, given they were both strong and passionate individuals, such occurrences were elemental to their relationship. Often the arguments were worn as comfortably as a favorite pair of old jeans, while at others those arguments provided an outlet for the frustration, sexual and emotional, that were a natural offshoot of years of dancing towards each other and then away.

Rarely, however, did her Mr. Steele reach the point he had today and generally only after she'd hurt him on a personal level. She'd briefly seen the anger years ago in Acapulco during the time she'd first begun erecting walls against him. She leaned her head back against the frame of the window, allowing her mind to wander to that moment.

"How long do I have to keep on proving myself to you? I mean, why is it so important what I was? I mean, we've been together for what could be called a season. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Seasons come and go and when they're over, sometimes you can hardly remember them," she told him, a flippant air to her voice.

Propelling himself off the bed where he was sitting, he stalked across the room towards her, grabbing her arm as she walked away from him. "Dammit, Laura, I care for you." Then she was in his arms, he kissing her hard, deep, with more passion, more emotion than he'd ever permitted himself before. Until that moment, his kisses had always held an underlying tenderness. This kiss was one of need to show her what she meant to him, to be close to her. She'd responded until her fear forced her to rip her mouth from his, to push herself away from him, out of his arms

"Don't!"

"Why not?"

On that day she'd seen briefly, only for a few seconds, the same frustration and hurt that she'd seen today. Even during their argument in Cannes, when they'd fileted one another with words as they walked the city streets, he'd kept the anger, the hurt contained, as best he could. Today, though, she knew it was different from the times before. That his tone, his terse replies, the words he said were reminiscent of the only time she could recall him walking away, turning away from her, chilled her to the core. You better make up your mind once and for all, Holt, before he ends up making up his mind for the both of you this time.

Last spring when Steele had packed up and left, Laura had reached out to Bernice for support as she'd felt her life was falling apart around her. At first, Laura had been furious, his leaving proof of what she always knew would happen: one day he would just walk away without a glance back. If she'd expected Bernice to support her anger, she'd been wrong.

"Well, what did you expect, Laura?" Bernice had asked. "The man's stuck it out for three years and where has it gotten him? Dumped, again? This time for another man? Why would he stick around?"

Bernice's words had stung, badly. That Steele never knew she'd made plans to go to Mexico with Westfield was of little importance. That she'd realized Steele was whom she wished to be with before the plane ever left the ground was of little consequence. That she'd blindsided him a mere week after their time in San Francisco was, at the end of the day, was what had mattered. That she'd ended them twice within nine months had been the death knell.

Granted, she'd by no means ended them this time. They still spent nearly every evening together, worked together side-by-side during the day. They still kissed, frequently. She'd merely backed them up to their pre-Vail days, attempting to control her own burgeoning needs. And in doing so, failed to consider what he asked of me in Vail.

"Bloody hell, Laura. When are you going to start coming to me when you're scared, instead of running from me?"

Laura straightened her back, craning her neck when Steele came into view down below. She noted his jacket was now off, slung carelessly over a shoulder, his other hand shoved in a pocket. He stopped in front of their building, clearly undecided about whether he was ready to return to the office. Removing his hand from his pocked, he rubbed it across the lower part of his face several times, before sweeping it once through his hair. Even from 11 floors up, she could see his sigh of resignation as he shook his head, before he started for the doors to the building. That he'd been gone for a little over and hour and was still reluctant to return to the office, to her, made Laura's heart ache. You need to mend some fences here, Holt, immediately, she directed herself.

Standing, Laura smoothed down her skirt before returning to sit in front of Mildred's computer in the reception area. Seeing that no results had been returned on her prior search, she logged into the insurance company data base and after tapping several keys hit enter. The computer could conduct its search while she and Steele spoke.

She raised her head towards the door as he entered. Their eyes met, causing him to pause for a fraction of a second, then, averting his eyes he continued without a word to his office, where he slung his coat over a chair before heading towards the private bathroom. Laura took a deep breath, then stood up, nervously smoothing her hands over her skirt once more. After locking the lobby doors – We don't need to be disturbed during this conversation – she walked hesitantly into his office. Hearing the running water in the bathroom, she approached the open door then leaned against the adjacent wall.

"Where did you go?" she asked, hoping the question sounded casual not interrogatory.

"For a walk." His voice had lost the cold edge it had held when he'd abruptly departed, but the resigned tone it now held offered little in the way of comfort. He patted his face dry with a hand towel, and hung the towel back on the rack prior to returning to his office.

"Did the walk help clear your head?" She pressed herself up against the wall as he passed, galling herself at her reaction. Amazing how a little guilt can cause one to lose a good deal of backbone. She mentally shook herself, then lifted herself up to her full height, straightened her shoulders and prepared for… battle? She wasn't sure where the conversation was going to lead.

"I wasn't aware my head required any….clearing." He showed great interest in the process of rolling down his shirt sleeves and refastening his cuff links, refusing to make eye contact with Laura. Pushing herself off of the wall, Laura approached him hesitantly.

"Look, we need to talk…" His heavy sigh made her pause. She watched as Steele moved to lean his backside against the edge of his desk, before he crossed his arms.

May as well get this over with then. No time like the present, and the like. "Ahhhh, four of my favorite words when they come from you, Miss Holt. 'We need to talk.' What's it to be this time then? I haven't lied to you in order to help a friend. Since our license is not in jeopardy, as far as I'm aware at least, I don't imagine I'm to be blamed for losing it. So, by all means, please do tell me what egregious act that I may or may not have committed providing the impetus for you ending us once more?" His voice had regained its angry edge, his blue eyes flashing dangerously.

Involuntarily, Laura took a step back from him. Shell-shocked by both what he believed she intended to do as well as the intensity of his emotions, words failed her. She simply stood, staring at him, mouth agape. She lifted her hands towards him, attempted to speak, and floundering dropped her hands.

"C'mon, Laura. Let's have it." He shoved himself off the desk as he spoke, began to pace, his hand frequently stabbing at his hair. "You may have caught me off guard last time, but I'm not a buggering idiot. You let yourself get too close, opened yourself up, so it's time to take me to my knees. Better that I be the one that's left than you, eh? If I've learned nothing from the last two times, I've at least learned that."

"Is that…" she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, began again, "Is that what you want?"

"No, that's not what I want! I want the same thing I've wanted the last three and half years. But what I want seems of little matter when it comes to you and I." Temper run its course, he found himself suddenly bone weary and returned to lean against the desk. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he watched her warily as she approached, flinched involuntarily when her hands touched his sides.

"I have no intention of ending us." Her fingers caressed his sides from waist to ribs, trying to soothe his rattled nerves.

"If not that, then what? You've been backing away. I can feel it, see it." He was clearly perplexed when she looked up at him, a rueful smile on her face.

"I think in my own way I was trying to keep us together."

"Yet again I find myself wondering if I will ever truly understand how that remarkable mind of yours works, Laura. How exactly does putting as much distance as possible between us keep us together?" His hands at last came out of his pockets to lay on her hips, as the tension began seeping away from his body. Laura closed her eyes, leaned into him, resting her forehead against his chest as her hands slipped lower to run along the sides of his hips. She let out a deep sigh, then let her amber eyes meet his blue ones.

"I want more. More time with you. More nights with you. More...more…" she growled low in her throat, frustrated she was stumbling over the words "…to explore more of the slopes with you. I don't want to overwhelm you, to ask more than you're willing… no want… to give. I don't want to you to feel so pressured that you back away, leave." Her words broke off as she dropped her forehead back down to rest on his chest, but not before he saw the flush that had begun to pinken her skin before she hid from him.

"So, then, by backing off, putting distance between us, you are trying to make it easier on me?" He found the notion so Laura – absurd yet logical at the same time – that he began to laugh. She looked up at him, shocked at first, then a slow smile spread across her face until she began to laugh with him. "Does it appear to have worked?"

"The evidence would suggest not."

"Perhaps a new approach is called for then, eh? Starting with a more appropriate response when I do this?" Dipping his head down, he ran his lips lightly across the column of her neck, felt her shiver in response. She sighed, and pressing her body closer to his lifted her head back, providing him more access as her fingers trailed up his back, into his hair. "Mmmmm, much improved," he murmured against her skin.

Her left hand skimmed up his chest until her fingers found the buttons of his shirt, releasing several under his already loosened tie, until she had access enough to skim her hand under the fabric. At the touch of her hand against his bare skin, he sighed deeply, and abandoning her neck his lips found hers. He nibbled playfully for a moment, then in response to her hum of pleasure, his lips settled firmly over hers, seeking fuller contact. Lips touched, tugged, a tongue flicked, her mouth opened eagerly under his, and the kiss deepened, their hums of gratification merging into one. The kiss ended only when both needed oxygen more than contact. Laura bussed him on the neck, before taking a step back, her hands rebuttoning his shirt. Seeing his look of disappointment, she smiled at him.

"Mildred should be back any minute. The last thing either of us want is her catching us and having to deal with her little 'knowing' looks the rest of the day."

He harrumphed in the back of his throat. "Much rather that then all her little witticisms and commentaries of late," he mumbled, as he followed Laura back into the reception area where she unlocked the door then resumed sitting in Mildred's chair.

"This is really bothering you isn't it?" she asked in mixture of surprise and concern. He leaned across the desk to look at the monitor with her, arms resting on the radio there.

"Well, yes," he answered honestly, some of his frustration reflected in his voice. "I'm not speaking only of the comments to me either. Have you not noticed that she demands equal footing with you as well? She's getting out of control, Laura."

Laura had turned to watch him as he spoke, her brows furrowing. Perhaps this warrants more attention than I've been giving it, to bother him as much as it clearly is. Her hand touched his, their eyes meeting. "Let's air all this out tonight, when we won't be interrupted. Agreed?"

He nodded, then his brows raised in interest at something on the monitor. Nodding towards it, he noted, "Seems that bag of bolts has ferreted out an insurance policy."

Laura turned in her chair and hitting the enter key on the board, brought up the details of the policy. They read the information silently, then raised their brows at one another, before looking at the screen once more.

Mildred walked brusquely into the office, offering neither a greeting. Instead, she announced "I think we've got this one all wrapped up," before snapping her fingers at Laura and Steele, pointing to his office. "Let's huddle," she commanded.

Steele glanced at Laura, his look all but saying "I told you so," and Laura's brow raised in pensive contemplation. They both approached the office with combined trepidation and curiosity, to find Mildred standing before Steele's desk, clearly planning on running this meeting.

She clapped her hand, clearly pleased with herself. "I got our motive." She walked around the desk sitting in Steele's chair, relegating him to sit in a chair in the conference area as Laura stood nearby.

"Umm, hmm," Steele replied, allowing Mildred the lead, as Laura watched.

"Okay. Your typical love triangle. Boy meets girl. Girl is married. Boy kills husband, boy and girl live happily ever after."

"Can we assign names to these boys and girls?" Laura asked a bit irritably.

"Norman Austin and Mrs. Doug West," Mildred answered.

"You're kidding!" Laura was clearly shocked at this turn of events.

"I caught them in the middle of a very hot embrace."

"Body Heat," Steele noted off-hand.

"It certainly was." Mildred lifted her brows, confirming what she believed was only a commentary on the position in which the couple were seen.

"Kathleen Turner, William Hurt, Warner Brothers, 1981. A man and woman plot to kill the woman's husband in order to make it look like an accident."

"What did you kids dig up?" Mildred queried.

"Uh, it seems that our Mrs. West is the sole beneficiary of a very large life insurance policy." Steele answered.

"It could be a very nice windfall for a fading disc jockey facing forced retirement," Mildred commented, then added smugly, "I found out that Tyler and Austin are losing audience."

"Good work, Mildred!" Despite his irritation with her comments and behavior of late, it was against his nature not to commend a job well done.

"But you're overlooking the man's alibi. Norman Austin was on the air when the plane blew up. I heard him." Laura's observation of the obvious flaw in Mildred's theory deflated the room.

Was Steele justified in his reaction to Laura backing away yet again? Do you agree with Bernice's advice that Laura should just go for it?

How did you like Bernice appearing in one of the stories? I have personally always adored the character and wish she had been brought back from time to time :)