A/N: London, you are in my thoughts and prayers...
The Canon Series
Laura and Remington return home from London and face many surprises. Have they been living a dream, believing the promising future they envision together is set in stone? Or will they wake from a nightmare, proving the real dream was in believing they could make it through all the hurdles they'd face together and whole?
For the most effective reading, my work should be read in chronological order as many of my one off's are spun into the history of the characters later on down the line. The chronological order of what I've written to date are as follows:
Steele Torn & Trying to Holt On
Cannes Steele be Trusted (co-written with the super-talented SuzySteele)
Steele Forsaken
Steele Mending
Steele Working out the Details
Steele Settling In
Steele Finding Comfort
Steele Holting on To Christmas
Steele Holting on To The Holidays
Holting on to the Moments
Steele Cold Relief
Steele Cloned
Steele Hurdling Obstacles
Steeling the Big Apple
Steele Dying to Get it Right
Holting Steele - Part 1 of the Be Steele My Heart series
Be Steele My Heart – Part 2 of the Be Steele My Heart series
Steele Pursued – Part 1 of the Steele Tested series
Steele Tested – Part 2 of the Steele Tested series
Steele Thankful
Down the Rabbit Holt - Part 1 of the Steele in Wonderland series
Steele in Wonderland - Part 2 of the Steele in Wonderland series
Standard Disclaimers apply: I hold no ownership or rights to the series or characters. I simply choose to borrow the characters I love to write.
Chapter 1: Welcome Home
Laura groggily pried open her eyes at the touch of a stewardess's hand upon her upper arm.
"We'll be landing in ten minutes," the young woman informed her apologetically. "The pilot has called for seats up and belts on."
"Of course. I'm sorry," she answered, sitting up and righting her seat before snapping on her belt as the stewardess checked on other passengers. Laying her head against the cool window, she stared out at the clouds as she tried to rouse herself fully.
She'd spent the first several hours of the flight lost in thought and uncomfortably aware Remington should have been in the seat next to her. Instead, he'd remained behind in England to wrap up the legalities of assuming his birthright: The Earl of Claridge and the entailments which accompanied the title. Not to mention, far more significant in her mind, getting to know the man who science had proven unequivocally to be her husband's father: Thomas James Fitzgerald III, aka Kevin Landers, current Marquess Westmoreland, Earl of Mayo and Viscount Stafford, and prior Earl of Claridge.
As for herself? Homeward bound, for no other reason than there was Agency business demanding to be conducted, business already set aside for ten days as they'd pursed the 'why' of Anthony Roselli entering their lives and turning it inside-out. With that mystery now solved, it was time to turn their minds towards the Fournier security contract which would handsomely line the Agency's coffers and to the expansion of the Agency, both physically and in terms of personnel. Interviews of potential associates and trainees were scheduled to begin on Monday as was the expansion of the offices into the suite next door. There was no debate: one of them had to return to LA, and it couldn't be Remington.
So, here she was on the flight, alone, alternately missing his presence then thoroughly chastising herself for the same. During their days at Ashford, she'd realized she wasn't consumed by Remington, as she feared would always happen if she gave herself over to them, but she was most definitely consumed with him. The simple fact was she really, truly enjoyed her husband for the person he was, and what that person was to her: partner, closest friend, lover and most recently husband. She knew, absolutely, that she was perfectly capable of functioning on her own without him… unlike her mother who'd become a shell of a woman for a long time after her father had abandoned them all. She would tarry forward competently without him, authoritatively seeing to what needed to be done and she'd even enjoy herself in doing so. She loved her job and there were many out there that couldn't say the same. It was just all the richer, all the more… fun, with him at her side while they bickered, bantered and brainstormed.
She turned her thoughts to what the week ahead held. Her nieces and nephew, today, of course, almost immediately upon disembarking from the plane. Frances had rushed off to Connecticut after being informed by their Mother's neighbor that Abigail was recovering from a bout of pneumonia, and with all their babysitters previously booked up, Donald had been left high-and-dry with clinicals he was to oversee today, then, of course, carpool on Monday. Thus, Laura had been drafted, not that she would have refused anyway. Just as she was incapable of turning her back on a case, she couldn't turn her back on family obligations, unlike the family gatherings from which she'd gladly, and often, had fled from. On Monday, Monroe's men would begin the upgrades to the first of the Fournier stores, carefully following the specifications set out by Remington in the plans he'd drawn up before their departure for London. She wouldn't need to check in on the progress until Tuesday at the earliest. Construction on the expansion was to commence Monday morning, but, again, Remington had carefully drawn up plans and instructions for that as well, so she didn't imagine too much of her time would be devoted to overseeing the work, but would more likely revolve around making sure it met her and Remington's standards. Client meetings were a snap, she could do those in her sleep.
Which left the first round of interviews for the new associates or apprentices. In truth, Remington's absence for those was more likely than not a blessing in disguise. While over the years, most notably the last two, he'd become much more serious about, devoted to their work, Remington would still always be Remington. He'd quickly be assessing each candidate to determine who'd be most easily swayed to accommodate his needs: dry cleaning to be picked up, tea to be made, newspaper to be laid out, tickets to special events to schmooze. She could weed out only the most serious contenders and then pray whoever was offered the job after interviewed by she and Remington, together, would be able to resist her husband's charms.
With that thought in mind, she'd finally closed her eyes. She laughed quietly to herself shortly before she drifted off to sleep, admitting to herself she'd not been wholly immune to his charms herself.
A nightmare. That was the only way to describe her day. Fred had dropped her off in Tarzana at eleven-fifteen, ending then and there her fantasies of an easy day of playing card or board games with her nieces and nephew, keeping them occupied until Donald returned home from work. She'd even gone so far as to vow to herself she'd teach Danny how to throw a slider today. She might not be able to offer Mindy any pointers in painting with watercolors, but her nephew? Well, she had more knowledge about baseball than Frances, Donald and Remington combined.
She should have known by the harried look on her brother-in-law's face that the day would not go as planned, but she'd remained blissfully ignorant. Hugs and pecks on the cheeks exchanged, he quickly gave her the rundown.
"Danny has baseball practice at three this afternoon. Mrs. Mulroney has volunteered to pick him up. Laurie Beth has already been to dance class and is refusing to take off her tap shoes. You might have to do some fast talking to pry them off her feet. Mindy woke with a stomach ache and is laying down on the couch watching cartoons. I left money on the kitchen table so you could order in for lunch. Thanks for doing this, Laura," and with another peck to her cheek, he'd fled as though the hounds of hell were after him.
She discovered why as soon as she walked into the family room. Mindy and Danny were bickering on the couch, while Laurie Beth tap-tap-tapped her way across the tiled floor towards her.
"Where's Uncle Remington?" the little girl inquired. Bending over, Laura pressed hands on knees to bring her down to Laurie Beth's eye level.
"I'm sorry, but he won't be coming today. He's still in England." The little girl looked up at her, confused.
"What's England?"
"Another country far away from here," Laura explained.
"You sent Uncle Remington away?" Laurie Beth asked, wide-eyed.
"Not at all. He's visiting his family." Laurie Beth held her arms out to her side, hands palm side up.
"I'm his family. Doesn't he want to visit me?"
"He's visiting his real family, Laurie Beth," Danny interjected from the couch, where he was busy shoving Mindy's feet away from himself.
"I'm his real family, too, Danny," she insisted, planting her hands on her hips.
"Of course, you are," Laura assured.
"No, you're not," Danny overrode Laura. "You're only family because Aunt Laura married him." Slapping Mindy's feet away from him again, he yelled at her. "Keep your feet to yourself, Mindy. I'm trying to watch Star Wars: Ewoks."
"Dad said I could lay on the couch," Mindy yelled back, kicking at his hand. "Go sit in Dad's chair!"
"It that true, Aunt Laura? I'm not Uncle Remington's real family?" Laurie Beth asked over the arguing.
"I want to sit on the couch, so stop hogging it!" Danny hollered, slapping at her foot again.
"Of course you're Uncle Remington's real—" Laura began only to whip her head around when Danny began bellowing.
"Mindy! Oh, geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeez. That's gross! I'm gonna be sick," Danny yelled bolting from the couch, just in time for Mindy to throw up again. Laura scrunched her eyes closed. This can't be happening, she tried to convince herself. But, of course, it was.
"Danny, go shower and change in your parent's room. Mindy, do the same in your bathroom." She paused and thought about the last direction. "Do you need me to help you?" Mindy's eyes widened in horror at the thought.
"I'm twelve, not a baby like Laurie Beth," she protested, then gagged again.
"I'm not a baby! Take that back, Mindy!" Laurie Beth yelled in offense.
"You are too!" Mindy insisted, then clasped her hands over her mouth and bolted down the hallway towards the children bedrooms. Laura groaned, fairly certain Mindy hadn't made it to the bathroom in time and there was another mess waiting to be cleaned up. Tilting back her head to look at the ceiling, she pressed the back of her hand to forehead.
"You have got to be kidding me!" she mumbled aloud, then with a harsh sigh looked down at Laurie Beth.
"Honey, can you show me where Mommy keeps the bucket and sponges?" Laurie Beth nodded her head eagerly, then began to tap-tap-tap her way towards the kitchen.
"Babies can't do that, you know," she informed her aunt.
"No, no they can't," Laura agreed wearily, afraid to wonder what lay in store for the rest of the day.
By the time she collapsed into bed at nine-thirty that night, she'd sworn off the idea of having children for a long, long time. She'd ordered in pizza for lunch, pineapple for Laurie Beth, pepperoni for Danny and as for Mindy? She'd ordered a couple of cans of 7-Up to be brought with the pizza, her Mother's go to for upset stomachs when she was a child. She knew not a thing about taking care of sick children, but the memory of her Mother saying over and over "It's important you drink something, Laura. Just a couple of sips at a time. That's it, let's see if it stays down." The 7-Up had been a hit. The pizza? Well, lesson learned there.
Laurie Beth had noticeably deflated as the afternoon passed. She'd finally been cajoled out of the tap shoes and Laura had agreed to a game of Chutes and Ladders as a reward for her cooperation. By two-thirty, Laura was glancing at her watch hopefully, but found time was still dragging by at a snail's pace. Laurie Beth had stretched out on the floor to play with her Barbies listlessly, Danny was getting ready for ball practice and Mindy was sleeping with a bucket next to the side of the bed, ready for the next round. She wondered vaguely if Laurie Beth still took afternoon nap and Donald had failed had to fill her in on that little detail. She was certain her suspicions were correct when the little girl climbed up onto the chair Laura was sitting in and curled up in her lap. Stroking her niece's hair, Laura leaned her head back and closed her own eyes.
"Aunt Laura?" The little girl calling her name had Laura opening her eyes and smiling down at her. The little girl had gazed up at her with doleful eyes, and she'd realized in a split second where she'd seen that look before. Launching both of them from the chair, she ran with her niece still held in her arms towards the bathroom, then grimaced at the sound against her chest and the sudden wetness. Her own stomach lurched at the smell wafting up to her nose, and she could only thank the stars the little girl's head was over the toilet for the next round.
Fifteen minutes later, Laurie Beth has been stripped, washed down with a wash cloth, dressed in a nightgown and put in the bed across from Mindy's, the bathroom trashcan next to her bed. Leaving the bedroom, she passed Danny on the way to his parent's rooms to borrow something from her sister's closet.
"Holy Pete, Mindy got you, too?" he asked with rounded eyes.
"Laurie Beth," she said, with a shake of her head.
"Oh, geez, her too?" he commiserated.
"Danny, can you please just stand by their door in case they need anything while I get cleaned up?"
"Gee, Aunt Laura, Mrs. Mulroney will be here to get me in just a minute." Laura glanced at her watch.
"In ten minutes," she corrected with a glance at her watch. "I'll be back in five." Without waiting for an answer, she raced to the master bedroom.
She was, indeed back in five wearing a pair of Frances's jeans that she'd had to belt herself into and a t-shirt she found in Donald's drawer. She drew the line at borrowing underwear from her sister, and it wouldn't have fit anyway. Looking at her ruined silk blouse morosely, she'd taken both pants and skirt and threw them in the kitchen trashcan. Even the dry cleaners wouldn't be able to save the pizza stained clothes. By the time Donald arrived home, she'd scrubbed up the hallway floor, had begun a load of wash and had taken the trash out. She'd nearly laughed at the look of panic which had crossed his face when she'd alerted him he had two sick children on his hands. She'd briefly considered making a mad dash for the door, much as he had several hours before, but her fondness for her brother-in-law won out and she volunteered to stay until both girls were settled down for the night.
"As much as I'd love the help, I don't want you catching whatever is they girls have. Remington would have my head if—"
"Remington is in England," she interrupted to remind him. "And even if he were home, he'd know better than to tell me what I will or will not do. Besides," she shrugged, "I never get sick."
"If you're sure," he hesitated.
"I am," she insisted, with a brisk nod of her head. If I'm not knighted to sainthood for this, she thought to herself, it damn well makes up for two months of missed, every other weekend luncheons and I dare Frances to say otherwise.