Chapter 21: Circle the Wagons

Laura lifted her eyes heavenward when she heard the french door across the terrace open and close behind her. She didn't need to look back over her shoulder to know who it was. She'd anticipated his arrival.

Just as she'd expected the car that had followed her and the girls from ballet class to soccer practice then home.

Just as she'd predicted she'd find either Tank or Dozer – whichever of them wasn't driving the sedan tailing them – at the house when they got home.

She may have convinced Remington it wasn't time to go on the lam, but experience had taught her it was useless to attempt to quell his protective nature all together. And she wouldn't necessarily want to, if she could. As far as she was concerned, one of his finest attributes was his unabashed commitment to and love for his family. Still, if she didn't keep those tendencies within reason, he'd drive her stark, raving mad.

Under the guise of stretching – and to make the man squirm a bit -she bent over and touched her palms to the pavers, giving him an unfettered view of her backside while providing her with a bird's eye view of his running shoes.

"Fancy meeting you here," she greeted him. Behind her, he gave her backside a wolfish grin. If one were going to be forced to run, the sight of those legs bared from ankle to just where the curve of her bottom began was at least some small reward for his efforts.

"Keep that up, love, and the only exercise we'll be getting is of the indoor variety," he leered. With a roll of her eyes, she stood up and turned to face him.

"Don't get your hopes up, big guy," she warned, drawing a finger up his chest then tapping his chin with her fingertip. "It seems we won't have much privacy in the near future," she added ruefully, with a pointed look towards the house.

"We agreed—" he began, then watched as Laura abruptly took off down the staircase leading to the beach at a fair clip. He sprinted after her.

"We agreed," she called back over her shoulder at him, "On Tank or Dozer being with the children when we weren't. We didn't agree they'd tail me all over LA when I was with the girls or that they'd be at the house when children were with us."

"And once we're finished with our run, they'll go home," he responded in a tone that suggested she was being irrational. With a shake of her head, she began to run.

"Which brings up another point: Why this sudden interest in running?" she asked, as she set a strong but steady pace. With a grunt of disapproval, he set his stride in time with hers. Last evening she'd taken it easy on him. Clearly she'd no intention of being as benevolent on this evening.

"There's nothing quite like running to—"

"Firm up the old love handles?" she ventured. His mouth fell open, the shot at his vanity finding its mark. "Two nights in a row," she continued before he could formulate a response. "That's more than you've run with me in the last year. Last night, I understood," she lectured, "I've been… distracted. But tonight? I don't need a guard, Mr. Steele, be it Tank, Dozer or you." He winced. He'd known she'd see right through him, of course, but had hoped she'd humor him for a while – a week or two… or until Roselli was safely back behind bars. Of course, this was Laura.

"Guard you? At the risk of insinuating you are anything less than fully capable of taking care of yourself?" he scoffed. "I simply enjoyed our run yesterday so much that I've been considered taking up the… er… sport." Turning her face towards the water, she rolled her eyes and shook her head. Yesterday, the man had acted like he was dying after their short, lazy run. Even now, they'd barely made it more than length of two football fields and he was breathing harshly. But, if that was the way he wished to play this, she knew exactly how to remind him – for the umpteenth time in their relationship, nonetheless – that she did not like games.

"Is that so?" The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. It was a trap, he knew it, and he could either admit he was, indeed, playing guard or walk right into it. A smart man would do the former, he acknowledged even as he said…

"Positively invigorating, really gets those endorphins going." She smiled wide.

"Great, then I'll sign us both up for the half marathon next month," she deadpanned. He heard her soft snort of amusement when he stumbled at the announcement. Bloody hell. But, in for a penny, in for a pound.

"Sounds delightful."

Thus, for the foreseeable future, the man who'd always staunchly believed the only good reason to run was because one was being chased would be running voluntarily… 'for enjoyment.'

"Mommy, are we going away?" Sophie asked as Laura leaned in to kiss her goodnight. The question gave her pause, and rather than bussing her on the cheek, she found herself sitting back down on the bed as Livvie eyed her from her bed with open curiosity. She tilted her head to the side and lifted her brows.

"What would make you ask that?"

"When Mr. Tank and Mr. Dozer were here before, we went away," Sophie answered with the simple logic of childhood. Laura found herself irritated with Remington. After prayers, song and story time, he'd taken Holt off to tuck him into his bed in his room and had left her to be blindsided. They were raising three intelligent, observant children - of course, they would have questions. She swiveled her head to look at Livvie who was nodding her head in emphatic agreement with her sister.

"The only place we are planning on going, right now, is to Vail for Christmas like we always do," she answered, honestly. Instead of being relieved by the information, Sophie withdrew.

"Sophie thinks the mean man is coming to get her," Livvie announced. Laura blinked, hard, looking from Sophie to Livvie then back to Sophie again and a rock settled in the pit of her stomach. Damn, Roselli. She stroked a hand over Sophie's hair.

"Oh, Soph, the mean man is not coming to get you," she vowed. "He is in jail and will be there for a very, very long time. He'll never hurt you again. I promise." She tapped Sophie on the tip of her nose, trying to lighten the mood. "And I never break my promises, do I?" Sophie considered the question at length, searching for any instances where her mother had broken a promise, then shook her head.

"No."

"Your Da and I are just…" she chose words that wouldn't be a falsehood "…working a difficult case and Tank and Dozer are helping us keep an eye out for the person we are looking for." An idea came to her, one that might help Sophie forget her worries while making the girls feel they had some control in their lives. She tapped her finger against her lips as though thinking. "As a matter of fact, how would the two of you feel about helping us?" In an affect much like Laura, Livvie tipped her head to the side as her brows furrowed.

"But we're just little."

"Well, yes, you are little – at least in comparison to Da and I. But," she emphasized, looking for her youngest daughter to her oldest, "You're very smart and are very observant."

"What's ob-… Obvervant?" Livvie asked.

"Ob-ser-vant," Laura sounded out. "It means you pay close attention and sometimes see things other people miss." The raven-haired girl nodded her head eagerly.

"We are ob-, observant!" Livvie declared triumphantly.

"Yeah!" Sophie agreed, emphatically, beginning to get into the spirit of things.

"So, what Da and I need you to do is this: If Da or I aren't with you and you see a strange man – whether it's here at the house, at school or even your activities - you tell Tank or Dozer. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yeah!" the response came in chorus.

"I thought you could. Now, close your eyes and get some sleep. You have school tomorrow," Laura reminded brightly, leaning down and bussing Sophie on the cheek. "Have good dreams, sweet girl. "Standing she walked towards Livvie's bed.

"You didn't say goodnight to Prince Charming," Sophie reminded. Laura doubled back.

"Well, I can't forget to do that, now can I?" She gave the cat a quick scratch behind his ears where he lay at Sophie's feet blinking up at her. Thoroughly unimpressed by the human's ministrations, Charming ducked away from her touch and curled up into a tight ball, and closing his eyes, dismissed her. She snorted her amusement. The cat had two true loves in his life, she mused as she walked to Olivia's bed: Sophie and any of Remington's clothes. Leaning down she bussed Livvie's cheek. "Sweet dreams, Livvie Bee."

Closing the door to Livvie's room until it remained opened only a crack, she turned automatically towards Holt's room, meeting Remington at the doorway.

"Off to the land of nod," he noted, rather enjoying the crestfallen look on Laura's face. There was something oh so attractive in the way she valued the bedtime rituals with their children. "I promised you'd tuck him in before you went to bed," he added, wrapping an arm around her waist and redirecting her the opposite way towards the stairs. "I'd like to speak with you." She cast a curious look upon him.

"Alright," she drew out the word.

"I've considered suggesting to Father and Catherine it would be best for them to return to England until we're certain there's no immediate threat from Roselli."

"Do they know?" He gave a small shake of his head.

"Not yet. I was hoping you might join me when I tell them." Her eyes narrowed slightly catching his hesitation.

"Of course, I will," she replied, in a tone that suggested it should have been a foregone conclusion. That he stopped to lean his hip against the baluster at the stairs and drew his hand across his mouth confirmed he was anxious about whatever it was he had in mind.

"I don't think I could—" He stumbled, then swallowing hard and moistening his lips with the tip of his tongue, tried again. "I haven't had enough time with him, Laura," he shared gruffly. "I can't keep him safe in England."

She took in the fear in his eyes, the strain around them and his distressed mannerisms. There were times she had to tread a fine line when it came to her Mr. Steele, and this was one of them. She neither wanted to encourage his tendency to panic at times like these nor did she wish to point out that his presence was no guarantee harm wouldn't come to someone he loved – hadn't they learned that much with Anna? Yet, at the same time, it he didn't calm down and gain some perspective very shortly, experience had taught her disaster would soon ensue as he took measures to control the uncontrollable. Life with Remington Steele meant picking your battles, and on this one she could concede.

"Well," she drew out the word while stepping close and drawing a hand through his hair, "We have a guest room for a reason." He nodded rapidly, his relief evident first in his eyes and then in the way he gathered her in his arms and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

"Thank you," he whispered. She patted a hand against his chest, then stepped out of the frame of his arms.

"Shall we?" she asked with a tip of her head to the lower floor where Catherine and Thomas waited, having already said goodnight to the children before their bedtime routines began.

"Let's."

They found Catherine and Thomas in the family room, preparing to depart as was their habit when the children went off to bed, allowing Remington and Laura a bit of privacy for the remainder of the evening.

"A lovely evening as always," Catherine complimented. "We do so enjoy our time with you and the children."

"As do we with yourself and Father," Remington returned. "Before you leave, Laura and I would like a moment of your time, if you don't mind." The request came as no surprise to Thomas, as he and Catherine were well familiar with Tank and Dozer… and their purpose.

"What wrong, son?" Thomas inquired, politely assisting Catherine as she sat back down on the couch, then joined her. Remington and Laura sat down on the loveseat catty corner from them.

"Marcos called me at the office today. Roselli was released from prison and turned over to the Mexican Federales for transport to Mexico where he is to be next tried."

"Already?" Thomas queried, shocked. "If memory serves he was given twenty years and it hasn't even been half that time."

"Eight, eight years is all he served, prison overcrowding, parole guidelines, and all that," Remington explained, not bothering to hide his derision. Leaning forward, he rubbed his hands over his face, then with elbows still braced to knees, held his hands out, palms up, and looked at his father. "He escaped while awaiting the connecting flight in New York," he informed the other couple. Catherine's hand fluttered upward in alarm to rest at the base of her neck. Reaching out, Thomas took her other hand in his then patted it, comfortingly.

"Which explains the presence of Dozer and Tank here this evening," Thomas concluded. "Is it off to the woods again, then?"

"No, it's not," Laura interjected firmly, reaching for Remington's hand and giving it a squeeze. What she said next was a reminder to him, as much as it was in answer to Thomas's question. "We're going to be cautious. That's all."

"We'd like you to stay here, with us, at least until we have some assurance Roselli isn't planning to pick up where he left off," Remington finished. Catherine and Thomas exchanged a look.

"We appreciate the offer, but I'm sure we'll be perfectly safe at the Rossmore," Thomas declined. "It's a secure building and given we're on the top floor, I'm certain—"

"It's also the very apartment Laura was abducted from and the only place Laura and I own, other than the Agency, that Roselli associates with us," Remington cut in, to argue. "It's a fine building, on that we can agree, but a doorman is not going to stop Roselli from getting in if he wishes."

"Son, try to understand," Thomas appealed. "Catherine and I lived a year in hiding, I even feigned my own death because of the man's lunacy. Most importantly, I lost nearly a year-and-a-half of time I could have spent with my son. He's stolen too much from me already. I'll not allow him to force me to make any further sacrifices, even if it is simply a place where I temporarily lay my head down to rest of a night." Catherine nodded her agreement.

"I never realized you'd find staying with us so abhorrent as to be considered a sacrifice ," Remington commented, more than a bit insulted. He wasn't sure what he'd envisioned in his mind: His father and Catherine bestowing him with gratitude? The pair of them overjoyed that they'd be under the same room as their grandchildren for an indefinite period of time? Hell, he'd have settled for a simple acceptance.

"That is not at all what I meant, Remington," Thomas corrected.

"It is not that we don't' treasure the time spent with you and the children, for you know how very much we do," Catherine added, "It's that it is a choice not made but imposed."

"We understand," Laura quietly assured. "I can't say I'm exactly thrilled about recent changes myself." The twitch of Remington's jaw didn't escape her.

"Then, at the very least, tomorrow we'll be upgrading the locks on the door and installing a security system in the flat," Remington snapped. Then as if recalling suddenly to whom he was speaking, qualified, "If, that is, I'm not overstepping my bounds." His tone had been more respectful, but no less frigid, making Thomas blanch noticeably. He and Remington hadn't shared a harsh word between them since his emotionally tumultuous return from the dead and the subsequent revelation that he was, in fact, Remington's father.

"It's your home to—"

"I've phone calls to make then," Remington interrupted, abruptly standing and stalking from the room. Catherine and Thomas watched as he snatched the portable phone off the bar, then stormed outside to the terrace.

"I'm sorry," Laura sighed. "The news has been… disconcerting… for him."

"I never meant for him to assume I wouldn't relish more time with him," Thomas worried. "I'd give all I have to get back just a piece of the time we lost."

"I know," Laura assured, looking towards the French doors, "As does he." She returned her attention to the couple. "The idea of something happening to us…" she held out a hand towards the couple "…to you…" she blew out another breathe, a frustrated one this time "He's not being reasonable." Thomas stood and offered his hand to Catherine.

"I think it would be best if we take our leave now," he informed her. "Catherine and I will see ourselves out." Laura pecked Thomas on the cheek and gave Catherine a hug.

She watched the couple until they disappeared from view then turned, and crossing her arms over her body, stared towards the terrace. Go to him and try to calm him with a gentle touch and soft reassurances or make it clear in her absence that his fears were no justification for his behavior?

She stood there long after she registered in the back of her mind the sound of the front door opening, then closing. Finally, when she did move, she strode out of the family room towards her office…