Steele Dreaming
Vol. 3; Ch. 2
By R.J. Harrington,
Laura stayed tucked away in her office all afternoon, not venturing into Remington's even for a signature. The stack of manila folders shrank from one side of her desk to build on the other. She'd whipped through at least a month's worth of security contracts, federal forms and old case files, alphabetizing as she went.
She picked up the last folder and glanced at the clock. It was 5:13 p.m.; surely he had left by now. He was in by 10 and out by 4 most days, so anything after 5 would be a late night.
The door opened. Laura jumped. It was Mildred.
"I'm going to head out, Miss Holt. See you in the morning."
"Bye, Mildred."
She wanted to ask whether the "boss" had already packed up for the evening, but she was too afraid Mildred would catch on and pummel her with questions. She laid her head onto her folded arms on her desk and closed her eyes. She hadn't gotten much meaningful sleep the last two nights, waking every few hours to escape her progressively detailed dreams about Remington Steele. As she contemplated ways to relax once she got home, she drifted off to sleep.
Her hazy subconscious remembered that the subject of her fantasies had been merely a door away for the better part of the day and her fantasizing brain zeroed in on the smallest details of her encounters with him.
Previously, her dreams had focused on his body -- hard, warm and beautifully sculpted. Now she could feel his phantom hands floating through her hair, skimming the edge of her jaw and dropping just once to caress her breast. Once, early last year and before she'd had the sense to set some boundaries, he'd unerringly found the peak as they'd indulged in a torrid kiss. In her dreams she could feel that fleeting touch again and she leaned into his hands for more. Her hands clutched his shoulders and then his face, wanting to feel his mouth where his fingertips had strayed. He said her name and she smiled. He said it again and she could feel his hand on her wrist. So warm … she had goosebumps from the contact.
"Laura!" The dream switched to Remington's voice and startled Laura awake. She sucked air suddenly and wiped the side of her mouth, hoping she hadn't drooled.
She blinked her eyes to focus and found Remington leaning on the file cabinets with a grin. She straightened her jacket and reached for a few folders stacked on the edge of her desk.
"Just finishing up a few cases," she said as she walked to the cabinets.
Remington's smile grew as Laura struggled to act as if nothing was happening. He peered over the drawer she had extended between them.
"Eventually, you're going to have to tell me what this is all about, Laura."
"What what is all about?"
Remington followed Laura to her desk and back to the file cabinets.
"This. Sleeping in your office, avoiding me like the plague and what was all of that groaning coming from the office a few minutes ago?"
Oh, God, groaning? I was groaning?
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Remington smiled and leaned against her desk.
"Alright Laura. No pressure. You can talk to me about your crush whenever you're ready," Remington said as he pushed from the edge of her desk and walked back into his office.
Laura froze for a moment before bursting into his office to refute his claim. He was reading the newspaper, or at least pretending to read the newspaper, with his feet propped on the desk.
"I don't know where you get your information, Mr. Steele, but…."
Remington lowered the corner of the newspaper and lifted his eyebrows waiting for the rest of her statement; his annoying grin piercing her flesh.
"Alright, you want to know what I've been doing? Why I haven't been able to sleep for a week? Why I am perilously close to not wanting to sleep at all?"
"Buggered, eh?"
"Dreams, Mr. Steele. I have been having increasingly disturbing dreams."
"You didn't seem too disturbed a few minutes ago when you were saying my name."
"What?"
Remington smiled and Laura's face flushed with embarrassment. She squinted her eyes and huffed at him, then walked back to her office. She gathered up her briefcase and a few files and headed out her door. Remington met her in the lobby as she rushed passed.
"Goodnight, Mr. Steele."
"Lau-ra, wait. It's OK. Come o-n."
Laura continued to the elevators. Remington returned to his office.
His joy at her fantasies about him was now mixed with a pang of pity. She really was struggling. He decided the only way to stop her torture was to help her, and that's exactly what he was going to do….tonight.
To Be Continued
