It's a Wonderful Steele
Gilmoradict January 2008
This story follows 'Steele on the High Road,' first posted by this author in 2007, though the stories are only vaguely related. During the series Steele and Laura spent as much time sparring as sparking, and it is that quality that I sought to reproduce in this story.
Cloudless blue sky met sparkling sun kissed waves, as a trim 34 foot sail boat skimmed sweetly over the water. A grinning dark haired man pulled in a line, as a trim, freckle face brunette called out instructions. Two men sat basking in the sun on the bow of the boat, feet dangling, occasionally soaked as waves splashed over the rails, and an older blond woman clutched the cabin frame, bracing herself with her short legs as best she could against the movement of the boat. The employees of Remington Steele Investigations, and brother to one of them, were enjoying a Sunday sail courtesy of the Reef Yacht Club, for whom the agency had recently provided a service. Remington Steele, to the vexation of his associate Laura Holt, had declined payment in exchange for a weekend on one of the club's yachts, but Laura had eschewed the weekend excursion in favor of an afternoon sail on a small vessel she felt comfortable managing. She had sailed with friends several times; Steele's boating prowess was a little vague, though in truth he was proving a most able seaman. Fred and his brother seemed content to relax and let Miss Holt and Mr. Steele manage the craft, and Mildred, though a bit intimidated at moments by the snapping power of the wind in the small boat's sails, was doing her best to enjoy the exhilaration of the whole experience. The afternoon passed far too quickly; soon Laura and Steele had furled the sails. The group sat back to enjoy the sunset from just outside the bay that sheltered the marina. A few airy clouds now dotted the horizon, fluffy and as pale a pink as cotton candy. The blush of color as the sun melted into the calm water cast an enchanting glow across Laura's cheeks. Steele leaned in, unable to resist the impulse to taste that color with his lips. Intent on the sunset, Laura merely smiled slightly at Steele's advance. When he reached with his slender fingers to turn her face toward his Laura pulled away, suddenly aware of Remington Steele's attentive secretary Mildred watching her co-workers with a knowing smile.
"Beautiful sight, isn't it Mr. Steele?" Mildred remarked innocently. She would have had to be blind not to see the electricity that often flew between Miss Holt and Mr. Steele, but it was rare for Mildred to actually witness any affectionate interaction between the pair.
"Indeed, Miss Krebs, indeed."
Her blush deepened by discomfiture, Laura began puttering about the cockpit of the boat, gathering up towels, drink cans, and sun screen. "We'd better start the engines and get back into our slip. There aren't any running lights on this boat and we need to be off the water by sundown. Technically we're already violating maritime laws."
Steele laughed declaring under his breath, "What we're violating are the laws of nature, Miss Holt. No man should be spurned as often as…" Then clearing his throat, "Fred, care to fire up the motor and take us back?"
Fred shook his head. "I'm good with engines, Mr. Steele, but not with marine navigation. This trip is all yours and Miss Holt's." The agency chauffeur had recently reconstructed the agency's limousine, following some unfortunate vandalism. While pleased to be included in this outing, along with his brother, who had also been involved in Remington Steele's most recent case, Fred was not entirely comfortable out of the front seat. He was however, accustomed to Mr. Steele's pursuit of Miss Holt, and watched the ongoing battle with amusement from his unique vantage point.
Steele took the wheel while Laura tidied the boat, and maneuvered through the moored boats in the bay with ease. Laura sprang lightly to the bow of the sailboat, throwing out fenders and readying a line to secure the boat when they arrived in the slip. As the boat motored smartly in, several attractive bikini-clad women spotted Steele, admiring his profile and jaunty bearing, and returning his smile with megawatt smiles of their own. Steele was momentarily distracted by their attention. Waving affably, he failed to keep his eye trained on the pylons. Ramming the near post rather abruptly, Steele launched the poised Laura into the murky waters of the marina. Spluttering, and spitting out sea weed, Laura surfaced along side a startled Steele.
"Miss Holt, wouldn't a swim have been more pleasant while we were in open waters?" Steele offered blithely. Then as if suddenly realizing an accident had just occurred he solicitously inquired, "Are you alright?"
Glancing up at the laughing women who waved over their shoulders as they continued down the dock, Laura offered no response. She accepted Steele's proffered hand and he lifted her easily from the water with one hand, while at the same moment he declared,
"Carrying a bit of water weight, aren't we Miss Holt?" Having been rebuffed by his ever business -like partner one too many times, Steele's couldn't seem to resist plying his wit at her expense. Leaning in toward Laura he continued "You currently smell a bit like a crab salad. I believe there's a shower up at the club house. Loving water the way you do, you may wish to avail yourself of that option before we dine tonight."
"Oh Miss Holt, here, wrap up in this towel." Mildred bustled about Laura, while casting warning glances at Mr. Steele. "Chief, I'd cool it if I were you."
"Thank you Mildred." Laura grabbed her bag, and with a look of pure venom for Steele, stepped out of the boat, failing to take into account that the craft had not yet been secured to the dock. The boat pushed back, leaving a startled Laura briefly suspended in mid air, before she was once again submerged in grimy water, this time drenching her towel, and the bag with her jacket and warm-ups as well. Fred and Mitch quickly reached to lift her from the brine as she surfaced, this time handing her up to the dock. Wordlessly, Laura stalked up toward the limo, leaning back against the car, dripping, until the rest of the group joined her.
"I don't suppose anyone is interested in dinner at the Reef Club? On the client?"
Steele's query was met with silence. Sighing, Steele along with the others, climbed into the limo. Laura claimed the front seat, across from Fred, starring out the window at the dark streets of Los Angeles, as her chauffeur wisely made her loft their first stop.
"I'm sorry about the upholstery Fred," Laura offered apologetically as she excited the vehicle. "Please bill the agency for the time it takes to clean the car." Shutting the door firmly, and shivering in the chilly night air, Laura turned to enter the building. Steele slipped quickly from the back seat, hoping to walk Laura to her door, to apologize and somehow smooth over the evening's damp demise.
"Don't." was all Laura spit at him as she sensed his presence behind her. He hesitated, and Laura stalked up to her loft alone.
"Chief, I think you made a serious tactical error." Mildred glared at her beloved Mr. Steele with a rare look of approbation.
"I believe you're right, Mildred. I seem to have thrown a wet blanket on an otherwise pleasant afternoon." Steele looked up at Laura's window as the light came on. He had a sinking feeling he was going to pay dearly for his earlier levity.