SILVER-TONGUED STEELE
By: xffan_2000
Summary: "Bonds" was brutal to the Laura/Remington relationship. How do they come back from that? Set post-Bonds and ignores the fifth season, except for one little bit at the end. (Sorry about the title. It made me giggle more than it should.)
X—X—X—X—X—X
Remington Steele, not-quite-as-illegal alien, grinned as he shooed the visitors out of his apartment. Estelle Becker indicated Immigration was placated, with the tuna boat wedding appearing legitimate enough. Norman Keyes growled his disapproval, but couldn't refute anything. Mildred floated out, prattling on about how happy she was and how it was about time they got hitched.
And now he was alone with Laura to do what married couples did on their wedding night. His grin widened. Everything worked out in the end.
He turned from closing the door to find Laura standing where he'd left her by the couch, her arms crossed over her chest. His smile faltered upon seeing her flat expression.
"Thinking about the Scotch plaid?" he chuckled.
"Take me home."
"Laura..." He approached, placed his fingertips on her arms. "It's our wedding night." He waggled his eyebrows at her.
"Don't." She pulled away, turned from him. "Just..." her voice cracked, "...don't." She started to sink to the couch, but he grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her back up.
"You'll stain the upholstery."
Her lip quivered before she spoke. "How careless of me." She pushed past him, jerked the front door open then slammed it shut behind her.
He took out his handkerchief and dusted off the mud she'd deposited on his jacket. "I rest my case," he muttered before following her.
She stood at the elevator, assaulting the call button.
"Come back inside."
She abused the button further.
"Take a shower. I'll make some dinner."
The elevator door slid open and she marched inside. Remington couldn't ignore the increase in his heartbeat. She turned, her hand going for the buttons.
"We can talk," he offered quickly.
Her dark eyes peeked out from under her tangled, muddy mess of hair. "I don't have anything to wear."
He let out his held breath. "My closet is at your disposal."
She sighed and stepped back into the hall. "I'm going home after dinner."
"Absolutely," he confirmed.
She shoved past him again, getting more dirt on his jacket, but at least she hadn't stormed off.
While she was locked in the bathroom, he stripped out of his tuxedo. He considered losing his briefs and waiting naked on the bed, but thought better of it. Given her mood, it was likely she'd rip off vital body parts. Instead, he replaced his silk suit with jeans and a button-up shirt and moved to the kitchen.
Laura emerged thirty minutes later, just as he brought the food to the table. She wore his clothes, but her feet were bare, her face was scrubbed clean and her hair was back in a ponytail. Desire shot straight through him, causing him to falter the plates.
She plopped herself in a chair and unfolded the napkin in her lap.
He cleared his throat. "Dinner."
"Thank you," she said.
They ate in silence. She kept her head down, shoveled in large pieces of chicken, chewed more than necessary.
He focused on her. It wasn't as he'd planned. Hell, he'd planned on having a ten-minute wedding ceremony, signing some government paperwork, paying off Clarissa, and being done with it all - hopefully with Laura being none the wiser the next day. Instead, his reluctant bride sat across from him. He could feel the anger radiating off her as if it were a physical thing.
Laura gulped down a mouthful of food with a huge swig of wine, then spoke. "You need to take me to the court house."
He couldn't help himself. He grinned and said, "We're already married."
"The Rabbit is there," she continued, as though he hadn't spoken.
He frowned. "Why were you at the court house?"
She hadn't looked at him since she sat down, but now she stared directly into his eyes. "Because you were at the court house."
"Ah," he said, remembering the marriage license he picked up for Clarissa and himself.
"Damn!" She dropped her fork and put her face in her palms. "I don't have my purse." She threw herself back in her chair and stared at the ceiling. "It must be in that ravine."
"What ravine?"
"Where I jumped."
His stomach clenched. "Jumped?"
"Or maybe it's in his car..." She continued, right past his concern.
"Whose car?" He couldn't follow her story.
"Lyle Andrews."
"That thug from Unidac? What were you doing in his car?"
"He tried to kidnap me," she said matter-of-factly.
"He what?"
"Before he tried to kill me the first time."
Remington choked. "The first time?"
"He tried to kill me twice today. Or maybe it was three times."
"Laura, I had no idea."
She scowled at him. "Of course you didn't. You were too busy marrying a hooker."
He placed his cutlery down and looked into her eyes. "Tell me, Laura, what angers you more: the fact that I wasn't paying attention to our case or the fact that I had an arrangement with Clarissa?"
It wasn't a fair shot, and he knew it. He also knew he was goading her into an argument. It had been brewing for hours, and he wanted to be done with it. The only question in his mind was whether she'd be more upset on a business level or a personal level.
Her jaw flexed. "I think the winner has to be you standing by so as not to get your suit dirty while I was being smothered."
He wasn't sure if that particular response fit under work or personal. "You like to handle things on your own. You are the independent sort. And I did knock him out with a two-by-four."
"It's good to know back-up is there when I beg for it." She pushed back from the table and made for the living room.
"Where are you going?"
"This independent sort is calling a cab."
"Laura, wait."
He grabbed her elbow before she could reach for the phone. She jerked her arm out of his grasp and glared up at him, her brown eyes sparking with something akin to murderous intention. He swallowed and let his hand drop. Her gaze penetrated him for a long moment. She was studying him, seeking something he wasn't sure he could admit.
"What were you thinking?" she asked, her voice brittle.
"I needed INS off my tail," he said. "I thought the end would justify the means."
Her eyes dropped to the floor. "Of course you did," she said, the defeated tone in her voice stabbing his heart. She sank down to the couch, her face turned away from him, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap.
It sounded like a good idea to hire Clarissa to be his wife just long enough to mollify INS. In his mind, he and Laura would laugh at his marvelous scam and continue on as though nothing had changed. Hell, when he hatched the idea, he could see her thanking him for keeping her out of such illegal activities.
But as with most of his schemes, when it came to her, it didn't work out as calculated. He had blind-sided her the entire day. On the professional front, he put the agency at risk by going head-to-head with the United States federal government, without dropping any hint to her that he was in legal trouble. He also hadn't been there to back her up on the Unidac case, and she nearly died multiple times because of it. On the personal side, he had manhandled her, locked her in an anteroom, and then expected her to step in when the original bride got tossed in the slammer.
All because he knew she wouldn't want to marry him.
He was positive.
He was sure.
She sniffled and swiped at her cheek with a fist.
He was...a complete fool.
What had he been thinking?
"Laura, I am truly sorry," he said, sinking to his knees in front of her. "It was never my intention to hurt you."
She huffed a breath at his admission.
He raised a finger to her chin and gently coaxed her to face him. Her eyes were devoid of anger now, leaving only raw misery. Seeing her reach a breaking point was so rare that he had no defense against her tears. A lump formed in his throat.
"I just..." he began, but didn't know where to go.
"You're my partner," she said, "I need you. I had hoped you needed me, too."
"I do, Laura." He clasped both of her hands with his. "I need you so desperately it hurts."
Her fingers tightened around his. "Why is it so damned hard to admit that?"
"Fear," he said. "I'm so afraid of losing you that I sometimes push you away, when I should pull you closer."
She twisted her mouth into a rueful grimace. "As do I."
He reached up and wiped away a stray tear from her cheek. "I should have come to you about my immigration problem."
"We could have worked together."
"We are a good team."
She nodded. "The best."
They smiled at one another. As the moment settled she rubbed her thumbs over his knuckles.
"If..." Her eyes lowered to stare at their hands. "...if you had come to me about INS, would you have married me?"
The question hung in the air, ominous and heavy. He'd never pictured himself tied down to one place, one woman, one life. But that was before he crossed paths with Laura, before he slipped into the persona of Remington Steele. Now, he couldn't see any existence other than this one. He could barely remember his multiple previous lives, as this new one had completely consumed his soul. And she was the reason for it all.
"Yes," he said.
She raised her eyes back to his, looking a bit astounded at his admission. "You would?"
"If you'd have me."
"I'd have you," she said. "Assuming you could put up with me, too."
"Of course I could put up with you. I love you."
Laura blinked. "You...love me?"
He nodded. "You know I do."
"Yes," she replied as she untangled their fingers and lifted her hands to cup his face between her palms. "And I love you, too." She closed the distance between them and kissed him.