The Alternative Universe (AU) Series

Toss the Twilight Zone experience of Bonds of Steele and Season 5 into the proverbial trash can. These stories pick up after Steele of Approval and look at Season 4 as most of the viewers saw it - Laura and Remington had crossed that line, imbuing that Season with the "Mr & Mrs Steele" feeling that most experienced.

For the best experience when reading my stories, they should be read in order as events from past stories, as well as Canon, will often be woven into future stories.

The order of the AU Series is as follows:

Steele Forsaken (Part 1 of 3 in the A Holt New Beginning Series)
Steele Mending (Part 2 of 3 in the A Holt New Beginning Series)
A Holt New Beginning (Part 3 of 3 in the A Holt New Beginning Series)
Holt the Presses (Steele Blushing Redux)
The Holt Truth (Forged Steele Redux)

Reviews would be most appreciated. Reviews assist me in knowing if I am hitting these stories spot on or if I am veering far of the mark. Ultimately any story is only as good as the reader's enjoyment of it.


Chapter 1: Awakening

Confusion. It was the first feeling that struck him when he woke, digging himself out from under the blankets and comforter in which he'd been burrowed. Not his sheets. Not his bed. Not his room. Not his flat. He peered around the room with bleary eyes. It took several seconds for his brain to put together the clues around him. A hotel room. Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, his mind repeated over and over again when his brain hit tilt.

Panic. That came second. Complete, utter, blinding panic. Laura. If, as the room suggested, he'd betrayed her, cheated on her, she'd never forgive him. They were committed to one another. Both had agreed they didn't have it in them to share the other with someone else. He'd refused himself the company of another woman for years, while waiting for her to come to him. And now that she had? What the bloody hell have I done? He'd lose her for sure, for this, the ultimate betrayal of all they'd been working towards. Oh God, no, was the only thought ricocheting through his mind now. Throwing back the covers, he could have hit his knees and thrown his arms up to the heavens in relief. Not fully clothed but clad in his briefs at least. A quick, mental inventory of his body revealed none of the pleasurable aches and pains that often followed a romp. Even though he and Laura were making love regularly now, he still felt those twinges throughout his body the next day, allowing him to relive the pleasure of how he'd obtain them in the first place. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Climbing his lanky frame out of the bed, he still couldn't help mutter aloud, "Oh, oh no, oh no," even as he slapped his hands to his face as a stab of pain sliced through his head at the sudden movement. His brain was still functioning, despite the hangover delivered upon him by Satan himself.

A return to confusion, then, was the third thought since he'd awakened. Where in the blue blazes am I? How the bloody hell did I get here? Oh God, how long have I been here? A glance around the room provided no clues. A peek out the curtains at the window provided no help either. He made his way across the room, flopping down in a chair next to the desk which held a coffee service and a phone. He swigged back some milk, trying to ease his parched throat as he picked up the receiver and hit zero.

"Yes…um… Mr. Steele in… um… Mr. Steele in… um..." Locating the room key on the desk, he found the room number. "Yes. 1019. A quick question operator. What hotel is this? . . . Ah, the Rexford Palms, of course . . . Yes, a superb hostelry . . . Yes of course. Keep up the good work. Good day. Bye, bye."

Nothing. The name of the hotel brought with it no familiarity, no sudden memories of how he'd come to be there. Another swig of the milk accompanied by a vigorous shake of his head. Picking up his wallet off the desk he thumbed through it. Credit cards, identification, cash. All seemed to be accounted for, same as he last remembered it. He reached for the phone and dialed the operator again.

"Ah yes, Steele here again. Another harmless query. Uh, what day is it?" He felt ill when he heard her answer. "Sure? . . . No, no, no, no, nothing's wrong. At these rates I just wanted to be sure you were on your toes, that's all… Tell me operator, just to confirm my records… umm… when did I check in?" The panic began to surge again at her answer. "Two days ago. And ah, do you happen to remember if I was with anyone? . . . Ah! Stumped you at last. Nice try anyway. Yes, good day."

He hung up the phone, taking a final gulp of milk.

Dead man walking, the fourth thought of the day. Two days. Two sodding days I've been holed up here. Oh God, dinner. Laura and I were to have dinner at my flat on Wednesday evening after I concluded my meeting with BJ Sinclair. Meetings missed yesterday. He knew exactly where her mind would have gone: just as she'd always feared, he'd gotten her into bed and once his curiosity was fully assuaged, had disappeared, once and for all, into the misty night.

Explanations. Laura would demand explanations and had every right to do just that. What explanations could he even give her? I've no idea what happened. No, no, I'm fairly certain I didn't take another woman into my bed. No, not a single memory of the last thirty-six hours. But on the upside, I didn't leave you as you surely thought; that should count for something, eh?

A boulder dropped into the pit of his stomach and lodged there.