Why I Love Remington Steele in 100 Words or Less

Three Remington Steele Stories in 100 Words or Less

by AMY STONE

Disclaimer

These stories are not in any way associated with the owners of Remington Steele. The characters, except for those I invented for the story, are not owned by me (but I can wish), and the story is not intended to infringe on any copyrights. It is meant as fan fiction and is purely for entertainment.

_________________________________________________________________

Detective, Heal Thyself

Laura pulled the Rabbit off the road and put the top down. She reentered the car, but didn't pull back onto the highway. She swatted the radio off and closed her eyes.

She was not wealthy, but she lived well. She owned her own firm. She met a man and was enamored with his charm and his eyes. She could never be sure of his intentions, though. Then she found her floor safe rifled; he turned up dead.

There was no question in Laura's mind. Maura Harriman killed Benton for stealing her life savings. What other explanation could there be?

THE END

Wait a Minute. Nobody On This Show Smokes

Laura and Murphy milled at Berniece's desk while she rifled it.

"You just had it," Murphy grumbled, lighting a cigarette.

From beneath the desk, a hand appeared wielding a folder. As Murphy snatched it, he walked in.

Remington Steele crossed the carpet, ignoring his "subordinates." Before Laura could balk, he kissed her. Long, deep, fantastically passionate. He drew away.

Keeping his eyes on Laura's, he nodded at the file.

"Finished with that?"

Murphy handed it over. Steele vanished into his office.

"Finished with that?" Laura indicated Murphy's neglected cigarette.

She puffed, exhaling dirty air and reveling in dirty thoughts.

THE END

Cognitive Dissonance

Laura rolled over, glaring at the red numerals of her alarm clock. Five minutes later she did the same. She pitched her pillow at it, knocking it behind the nightstand.

Will they or won't they? The question everyone asked about the current Nielsen topper was driving Laura to distraction, though she rarely watched television. She knew he would leave; she knew he would stay. Finally, she capitulated and rose.

Squinting angrily at the light, she unearthed the boxes collecting dust in her closet. On page 216 of Introductory Psychology, she found it. At least it had a name, Laura thought.

THE END

There's more where this came from, including two of novella length. Make sure to check out my other stories and sign my guestbook.