This story takes place after the fifth season. It also presumes that Laura and Remington were married again in a ceremony that included family and friends. I do not own them and this story is not meant to infringe on the rights of those who do. I am not making any monetary gain from this: it is for entertainment purposes only. Feedback is always welcome.
Steele Shadowed by the Past - Part 1
Laura Holt Steele closed the last case file and sat back in her chair. The glass topped dining room table and contemporary chair were not the most comfortable substitute for a desk and the hours she had spent hunched over paperwork had taken its toll. She rubbed her neck and lifted her shoulders up and down to relieve some of the tension then stopped. Why do this herself when Remington gave the best neck and shoulder rubs she had ever experienced? Laura scanned the living room for her husband. The last time Laura had looked up from the paperwork, Remington had settled on the sofa, his fingers locked behind his head. 'Casablanca' was showing tonight and he never missed a chance to see it but he had turned down the volume on the TV so he wouldn't disturb her. Now the TV was dark and silent and the sofa was empty. But the lights had been dimmed and the gas logs in the fireplace had been lit. She also thought she heard the faint sound of sniffles. Laura stood up.
"Rem?" She moved through the dining area.
"Here, Laura--"
Her Mr. Steele was reclining in front of the hearth, a glass of wine in one hand. Another glass was on the coffee table, apparently waiting for her. He had unfastened the top two buttons on his shirt and loosened his tie, giving him an appealing disheveled look. Remington was staring at the pocket watch in his other hand, the soft notes of When Irish Eyes are Smiling' emanating from the time piece he had received-again-from his father. Laura moved over to him and saw the contents of an envelope he had received at the office today scattered all over the floor. More of Daniel's papers.
"Are you okay?" Laura asked softly, her own discomfort forgotten.
He looked up at her and, in the dim light of the fire, she saw tears glistening in those incredible blue eyes of his. But, as he usually did when intense emotions threatened to overwhelm him, he fell into his glib, con man persona.
"Finished with the paperwork, are we? Ready for my signature, no doubt. Lead on." He put his wine glass down and started to lever himself up, but Laura pushed him down again. She settled next to him.
"It can wait. What is it, Harry?" Laura used the name his father had always called him out of self defense' he had always said, hoping that would open the floodgates of emotion she could tell her husband was holding back. He was getting better at expressing emotions, even though she knew he would never be totally open- and she accepted that after years of trying to break down his walls. It was just too ingrained in him to hide his feelings, due to his terrible childhood. Laura knew his current emotional state was somehow tied to Daniel-that was obvious from the watch and the presence of the estate papers. It had only been almost six months since Daniel's death and Remington was still dealing with the loss of his mentor-and the fact that same mentor had been his long, lost father. Laura waited patiently through the long silence after her question, using the time to pour a glass of wine and sip at it while Remington gathered his thoughts. Finally Rem sighed, put the watch back in his pocket and said softly.
"I picked up the phone to call him tonight, Laura. Then I remembered-" his voice trailed off and broke slightly. "He's gone-he's gone forever." His shoulders shook with unshed tears. Laura gathered him in her arms and comforted the lost, abandoned little boy inside him. He clung fiercely to her as if he was afraid she would vanish, too. She had no idea he had been in such emotional pain.
"Why didn't you come to me?" Laura asked, burying her fingers in the silky hair brushing his collar.
"You were busy. I-I didn't want to burden you." When he had regained some composure, Remington lifted his head and scrubbed his face with his hand. "I'm sorry-"
"There's no need to apologize. I know you miss him. And you could never be a burden. Seeing you in pain hurts me. I want to be here for you, Rem. Anytime. For anything. Okay? That's what partners are for, right?" She leaned in to seal that promise with a kiss. "So did you find anything of interest in his papers?" she nodded toward the floor.
Remington shook his head. "Most of it is correspondence his solicitor could have destroyed as well as I can. I'll keep the letters he sent me over the years-and, of course, the letters my mother and Daniel wrote to each other. I feel-closer to her when I read them. But still no birth certificate." His voice broke again.
"I'm sorry." Laura put her head on his shoulder, nuzzling his neck. "But the letters are part of your legacy-and our children can know their grandparents through them, too."
"Our children, eh? Are you trying to tell me something, Mrs. Steele?" His blue eyes twinkled with amusement, but Laura also saw a hopeful gleam.
"No, I'm not pregnant. When the time is right, we'll start our family."
"Our family. I like the sound of that." Even though he had expressed doubts about his ability to be a good father, Laura knew he longed for a family he could call his own since he never had one growing up. She had no doubts at all he would be a wonderful parent." But you know we really haven't ever discussed children. Between the rush of our tuna wedding' and the real one, and the case load at the office, we haven't had much time."
"I know. I want children, too, Rem, but not right away. A couple years down the road, perhaps? We need time to adjust living with each other before we bring a baby into the picture."
"And in the meantime, we can practice, eh, Laura? It'll take lots and lots of practice-" He leaned in to fasten his lips to hers in a long warm kiss full of sensual promise. Remington slid a hand up to the first button on her blouse and deftly unfastened it. His mouth moved across her cheek to her ear where his warm breath stirred the short hairs around it as he whispered, "You have entirely too many clothes on, Mrs. Steele. Shall I relieve you of them?" His hand made short work of unbuttoning her blouse and he pulled it from her body. His blue eyes darkened with passion at the sight of her cream colored teddy now in view. He reached for the zipper of her skirt, but she stayed his hand.
"No, Mr. Steele. I have a new frothy confection that I think you'll like. Bring the wine and I'll- meet-you-in-the-bedroom." she nipped at his lips between each word, then, after one last long kiss, Laura rose from the floor and disappeared into the bathroom. She quickly pulled off the rest of her clothes and slipped into a silk nightgown with lace inserted in strategic places. Then she took her pill, brushed her teeth and spritzed herself with perfume-a scent she knew her husband liked. Laura left the bathroom and returned to the bedroom. The lamp on the nightstand was on and the wine bottle and glasses were standing next to it. Remington was lying under the covers, his back to her-his bare back as he usually slept in his pajama bottoms-or was he naked, waiting for her? Laura tingled at the thought and moved over to the bed. She slid under the covers.
"Um-Rem, I'm back." She said, wrapping her arms around him and snuggling close. Laura was a little disappointed when she felt the silk of his pajama bottoms against her skin, but decided it would be more fun to undress him. But he hadn't stirred so she whispered his name again. When there was no response this time Laura levered herself up on one elbow and looked over his shoulder.
He was sound asleep.
Laura smiled as she planted a kiss on his forehead. The busy day at the office and the intense emotions of tonight had taken their toll on him.
"Sweet dreams, Harry." She murmured. Then Laura turned off the lamp, settled next to him and promptly fell asleep also.
Laura was awakened early the next morning by warm, wet lips planting kisses on her shoulder and back. Smiling, she turned her head to look at her husband over her shoulder.
"A little nibbling before breakfast, Mr. Steele?" she teased.
"Actually I prefer to think of it as breakfast in bed, Mrs. Steele. You did say something about a confection last night." Remington nudged the thin spaghetti straps of her nightgown off her shoulders, causing the bodice to fall and revealing her firm breasts. He gently pushed her over on her back and made easy work of stripping the nightgown from her body. Then his hands and lips began a hungry search of every inch of her, it seemed, leaving Laura a quivering mass of desire and need. Laura pulled his pajama bottoms from his body and paid him in kind, stroking him until she saw the tell-tale squinting of his eyes that indicated he was close to completion. She welcomed him into her body, amazed as always how well they fit together and they raced toward the peak, soaring higher and higher until they both surrendered to the shattering climax. Afterward they lay tangled in each other's arms and fell asleep again until the alarm went off.
His dark hair still wet from his shower and dressed in navy blue trousers and socks, Remington came into the bedroom later that morning and slipped into a light blue shirt. Then he pulled open the mirrored door of the closet to pick out a tie and a suit jacket. He frowned when he couldn't find the jacket he wanted. Fixing his tie as he went, Remington moved into the living room.
"Laura, have you seen my blue jacket?" he called-at almost the same moment he spotted it draped across the back of the sofa where he had left it yesterday. "Never mind, love, I found it." He shrugged it on and patted the pockets as if looking for something. He heard the distinct sound of crinkling paper. Remington reached into the right pocket and pulled out the note he had absently stuffed there. He frowned when he read it again.
The Shadow is on the prowl. Watch your back, Harry. Daniel.'
The Shadow. A name he thought was firmly planted in the recesses of his past. A name he could easily have waited a hundred years without hearing again. A name that could still strike fear in his heart. He closed his eyes against the memories that came flooding back. Angry words. An explosion that rocked the waterfront. The seemingly endless interrogation.
Remington stuffed the note back into the pocket and finished tying his tie as Laura came back into the living room from the kitchen.
"Ah, Laura, you are a vision of loveliness this morning." His blue eyes swept down her trim body and beamed with approval at the oatmeal colored knit dress she wore. Her brown hair tumbled freely to her shoulders, unhampered by barrettes or pins today. It was a look he particularly favored.
"Thank you." She moved over to him and straightened the lapels on his jacket. "But you seem to be slipping, Mr. Steele. Wearing the same jacket two days in a row? Tsk-tsk. What would your tailor think?" she teased as her hands slipped down his side and she slid her hands into the pockets of the jacket to pull him closer. Her fingers encountered the note and she drew it out.
"What is this?" She read the two lines and looked up at Remington, a worried frown creasing her forehead. "What does it mean? It seems to be written in code."
"Very perceptive of you, Laura. Daniel and I used that code to communicate with each other after one of our-business deals. The shadow refers to the shadow of a sundial, denoting the time we were to rendezvous. On the prowl meant midnight. On the loose meant noon. Lurking meant six a.m. and so on." His explanation was only a half truth. The note was written in code, but it had nothing to do with sundials or time. He hoped Laura would buy his account of what the codes meant and cease her prying.
"And what about watch your back?"
"Merely our way of telling each other to be careful-much the same as we use it."
"Where did you get this?"
"It was with the papers from Daniel's solicitor." He was stretching the truth here, too. The note had not actually come in the same envelope as the other papers, but in a separate one- special delivery-with no return address. But it had come in the mail on the same day as the other papers. "You will notice it was dated seven years ago." He tapped the top of the note. "It was undoubtedly left over from our last-business deal before I came to Los Angeles."
"So there's nothing else to it? I mean it sounds ominous." This was it. If Remington didn't convince her now, he had a feeling Laura would continue to dig until her curiosity was satisfied.
"I assure you that's all there is."
"All right. But if I find out there's more to it-"
Laura, you cut me to the quick." He patted the front of his shirt, the nervous gesture hiding his relief. "Such a suspicious mind."
"Occupational hazard, Mr. Steele." Laura raised herself on tiptoe and kissed him. "Go eat breakfast. I'll call Fred-and brush my teeth."
Laura disappeared into the bedroom and Remington moved to the kitchen. For a moment Remington considered destroying the note, then thought better of it. The note- and the envelope in which it had come which was still in his desk drawer at the office-might still yield some clues.
"Morning, Mildred. How are you this fine morning?" Remington cheerfully greeted Mildred, their receptionist cum mother substitute as he and Laura walked into the office. He tapped the top of her desk.
"Morning, Boss. Mrs. Steele. I'm in the pink. Bowled a 275 game last night so I'm ready for any comers in the tournament tomorrow night."
"Splendid. When is our first client due to arrive?"
"Ten o'clock. Mr. Mellenkamp, the upholstery king of greater Los Angeles."
"Another security contract?" he wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Really, Laura, must we?"
"They're the bread and butter of this agency, Mr. Steele and a welcome change from murder and mayhem."
"I suppose. Well, then, bring in my tea and newspaper, Mildred. I have some phone calls to make before our client arrives." Rem headed for the red door of his office.
"Phone calls?" Laura was immediately on her guard. "I hope they're all local calls. Our long distance phone bill last month was atrocious. Who will you be calling, Mr. Steele?"
He stopped to glance at her. "The usual suspects. My tailor. My barber. The maitre'd at Le Paris. Will you join me for lunch, Mrs. Steele, say around 12:30?"
"I'd be delighted." Laura visibly relaxed and headed for her door. "I'll be in my office. Buzz me when Mr. Mellenkamp arrives."
The two detectives disappeared into their respective offices, but Remington sneaked back into the reception area a few moments later. He moved over to Mildred who was just bringing in his cup of tea from the storage/break room.
"Mildred, I need you to run a name through your computer-Interpol, the works."
"What's the name, Boss?" she handed him his cup of tea and the newspaper and sat down at her desk. Her fingers were poised over the keyboard.
"Columbini-Eduardo Columbini." Mildred typed in the name. "And please keep this just between us. Laura doesn't need to know anything about it."
"A hush-hush case, huh?"
"Exactly, Mildred. Bring the print out to me as soon as it comes off the printer."
"You got it, Chief." Mildred turned her attention to the screen. Remington moved back into his office and sat down at the desk. But, instead of opening the newspaper as he usually did, he took a sip of tea and reached for the phone. Between Mildred's computer search and his contacts, he hoped he would solve the mystery of the Shadow.
Half an hour later he hung up from the last call and frowned. Remington hoped Mildred was having better luck than he was. None of his former colleagues seemed to have heard anything about the mysterious Shadow. He took the note from his pocket and retrieved the envelope from his desk drawer. Placing them in front of him on the desk, he studied them both for a moment, then he picked up the envelope and turned it over. His eye caught on what appeared to be another postmark. As he examined it more closely, the intercom buzzed. Startled, as if he had been caught, Remington stuffed the envelope into his inside pocket and swept the receiver of the phone up to his ear. "Yes, Mildred? Is it time for Mr. Mellenkamp?" he glanced at his watch. It registered 9:30.
"No, Boss. There's someone else here to see you." There was an undercurrent in her tone that he had never heard before and his frown deepened.
"Can't Laura see him?"
"I don't think so, Mr. Steele. You'd better handle this one. He says he's your son."