Final Scene

Laura, person and dress still caked in mud, sat on a crate facing Estelle Becker, answering each of the questions asked, staying as close to the truth as possible to avoid a conflict with anything Remington might say.

"Why are you marrying Mr. Steele today?" Laura bestowed a smile on the other woman that she hoped passed for 'dreamy' and spoke in a soft voice. Mildred looked on eagerly, tickled that 'her kids' were finally getting hitched… even if it took this little snafu with immigration to make it happen.

"I've loved him from the first moment I met him." Well, not really, she silently acknowledged with a sigh, But it hadn't taken long. "He has all the qualities I admire in a man: Honesty… integrity… compassion." She was startled to realize that really was how she saw him now. Still, she couldn't help having a little fun of her own, as she'd spied Remington straining to overhear what she was saying on a trio of occasions, already. "Sometimes, he seems too good to be real." She turned her head to smirk at him and said loudly enough for him to hear, "It's almost as though I invented him." His eyes narrowed, conveying his unspoken Lau-ra, chastising her both for her reference to his past and for dancing a little too close to the truth with the federal agent. She gave him a smug look before returning her attention to Estelle. Leaning forward, she braced an elbow against her knee and rested her chin on her fist, reaffixing the starry-eyed look on her face. "I'd be the happiest woman alive if I could spend the rest of my life by his side." The adoring praise left Becker dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

"I think that's the most beautiful expression of love I've ever heard." Laura smiled a little wider, a little warmer, smelling triumph within their reach.

"It comes straight from the heart, Miss Becker," she vowed.

"I want to believe that," Becker assured, still dabbing at her eyes, "I want this all to work out. I want—" She shrieked when a fish flopped into her lap.

"Allow me!" Remington insisted, hurriedly taking the fish from her lap and tossing it back into the bin from whence it had come. Granted, a fishing trawling that reeked of sea weed and dead fish wasn't the most appealing of wedding venues, but those international waters only a few miles away represented his salvation – if only they'd get on with it already. Spying Keyes pulling his car into the parking lot confirmed the need to make haste towards open water. He turned to a cigar chewing Hispanic man and with a motion of his hands ordered "Okay, time to cast off!" The man stared at him with a blank look on his face. He tried again. "Vamonos, amigo!" This time the man smiled and nodded his understanding.

The boats engines roared to life and the vessel was pulling away as Keyes neared the end of the dock.

"Steele!" he bellowed. "Steele, you won't get away with this. It stinks, just like those fish! You can run but you can't hide. I'll be the last thing you see at night and the first thing you see in the morning. For better or worse, Steele, you're mine," he threatened. Remington smiled for Becker's sake.

"Incurable romantic," he commented, facetiously. "Hysterical because he can't be my best man." He held out a hand to Laura. "Shall we?" He admired the elegance of her movements as she rose, the natural grace that one might think would be overshadowed by the dirt covering her shining through. Laura, trying her hardest to find the humor in any of this, looked at Mildred.

"How do I look?" she asked with a teasing lilt in her voice. The expression on Mildred's face said Laura's appearance was absurdly at odds with what was about to take place, but she was willing to play along.

"They say all brides are beautiful," she offered. Her pithy remark earned her a wide smile, pleasing her. She settled in more comfortably on her crate, watching on eagerly as Laura and Remington linked arms where they stood before the man Remington had ordered to cast off.

"You're sure this marriage isn't even remotely legal?" she asked, sotto voiced.

"Laura, when I make a bargain, I stick to it," he assured.

"We have a valid license and a real witness now," she whispered back. "What about the captain? He'll have the authority to marry us." Despite their little dust up earlier, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease her.

"Mmm-hmmm," he hummed his agreement. "Absolutely correct." She promptly yanked away the arm she'd linked with his.

"Then what are we doing here?" she hissed through clenched teeth. He lifted a solitary brow.

"Juan's not the captain," he clarified. She looked doubtfully at the man currently plunking a white captain's hat on his head.

"Who is he?" she asked, suspiciously.

"He cleans fish. He's very good at it, actually." He'd watched Juan clean a half dozen fish in record time as he was negotiating a fee for the role the man was to play. He swiped at his sleeve as though flicking off a piece of lint. "Now, more importantly, how do I look?" The question was meant to lighten the mood, and her soft snort of laughter and the roll of her eyes said he'd succeeded. The question had been absurd, after all, given his mud caked hair, his dirt streaked face, and his ruined tux and shoes. Juan cleared his throat. Taking Laura's hand, he linked their arms together again.

"Amados amigos!" Juan began. Laura crinkled her nose, damning to perdition those high school Spanish classes in which the students had done little more than conjugate verbs for two years. "Estamos reunidos aquí hoy, para unir… a Rrrrrr-emington y La-ura en el sagrado matrimonio. Tu Remington, aceptas a esta mujer, por tu amada y fiel esposa, en la riqueza como la pobreza, en las buenas y las malas, hasta que la muerte los separe?" Juan was enthused by his role, gesticulating elaborately and grinning from ear-to-ear.

"Yeah, I do," Remington replied. Juan's smile faded and he stared at Remington with a puzzled look. "Oh, ah, si," he corrected and Juan's smile returned. He turned to Laura.

"Y tu, Laura, aceptas a esta hombre, por tu amado y fiel esposo, en la riqueza y la pobreza, en las buenas y las malas, hasta que la muerte los separe?" While awaiting Laura's response, Juan looked at his fellow fisherman for affirmation he was doing a good job, their nods heartening him. Next to Laura, Remington gave her a soft nudge.

"Your turn."

"Oh… Uh, sí!" she replies, the answer sounding more like a question.

"Entonces, como capitán de este barco, los declaro marido y mujer!" When Laura's brows knitted together in question, Juan added "Ahora puedes besar a la novia!" He made loud, exaggerated kissing sounds.

A corner of Remington's mouth quirked upwards. Don't mind if I do… With a crooked smile, he eased Laura into his arms, drawing her close.

"I think this is where we plight our troth with a kiss."

"Then I guess we should get on with it," she replied, with a playful lift of her brows. His smile softened as his hand slid up her back to cradle her head in his palm and head his lowered. She lifted her lips to meet his.

As it always had been, sparks flew at the first glancing touch of their lips. Their lips parted, his hovering over hers, and he looked down at her through his lashes. Seeing the warmth, the quiet desire in her eyes, he drew her closer. She went willingly, pressing up on her toes and sealing her mouth to his, palming the back of his head to keep him close. The kiss, unlike the 'ceremony' before it, was not part of the charade they were perpetuating. Instead, the soft, supple caresses of her lips against his, his against hers, served to ground them, to remind them why they were here in the first place. It was about him, her… them. It was about keeping one another safe and near. It was about their friendship, their partnership, the connection that had always been between them… it was about the promise the future held, if only they could find their way there.

It was… about always being interrupted. Applause erupted, the kiss ended and they turned their heads as one. Remington watched with amusement as Laura's skin – at least that which could be seen around the dirt – pinkened. Arm still wrapped around her waist, keeping her near, he looked at his watch.

"With time to spare," he whispered. He stole another kiss, for no other reason than to fluster her a bit more. She scowled at him, and with a hand flattened against his chest, pushed him away… then groaned in dismay as something rained down around them, plinking of their heads and shoulders.

"Mil-dred," she protested, elongating the woman's name.

"What?" Mildred asked, without remorse. "It's tradition." Laura flicked a seed off her shoulder and cast a questioning look at the older woman. "Store didn't have any rice." She shrugged her shoulders. "It's bad for birds anyway, so I improvised." Her smiled widened. "Sunflower seeds." Wonderful, Laura lamented. The way the day had gone so far, a flock of birds should be descending on them any second to feed. She looked skyward, giving Mildred the opening she needed to pounce. She found herself wrapped tight in the other woman's embrace. "Aw, honey, I'm so glad the two of you are finally hitched," she enthused releasing Laura and looking pointedly at Becker, who was securing Juan's signature on the wedding license, "Even if it did take the United States government to make it happen."

"Mr. Steele, if you'll sign here," Estelle Becker requested when she approached, holding out the marriage license.

The first notes of coming from accordion began to play, inspiring Laura to look at Remington with horrified eyes. Who even owns an accordion any longer – let alone hauls it along on a fishing trawler!

Feelings, nothing more than feelings,
Trying to forget my feelings of love…

"Miss Holt… I mean, Mrs. Steele," Estelle beamed, "If you'll sign here." Laura plastered a smile on her face.

Teardrops rolling down on my face,
Trying to forget my feelings of love.

Mrs. Steele… Mrs. Steele… Mrs. Steele? As she scribbled her name – Laura E Holt – on the license, the reality she would now be seen as 'Mrs. Steele' by some people made her head swim a little.

"Aw, Boss," Mildred crooned, seeing her opportunity to congratulate him while Laura was otherwise occupied. She reached up and pinched a cheek. He winced. "You did good." Releasing his cheek, she settled a stern look upon him and wagged a finger at him. "Don't blow it." In a way that only she could make him do, he shuffled his feet while looking a bit embarrassed by the admonishment.

Feelings, for all my life I'll feel it.
I wish I've never met you, girl; you'll never come again.

"I know it's your wedding night," Becker spoke, apologetically, "But once we dock, I'll need a half hour of your time to go over the process from here forward: Interviews with each of you as well as any friends and family members we deem necessary; inspection of your residence; frequency of scheduled and unscheduled home visits – all at our discretion, of course – and what to expect during those visits. Then there is—"

Remington's heart had fallen to somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach when Becker had mentioned residence. Certainly she couldn't have meant a shared—Then, with the comment on visits, which could only mean one thing, his heart had plunged to his toes and his eyes skittered to Laura's face. Her eyes rounded and her lips parted to speak, when he tugged on her hand and twirled her into his arms.

Feelings, wo-o-o feelings,
Wo-o-o, feel you again in my arms.

"Can't forget the first dance, my lovely bride." Remington smiled wide for Becker, although his eyes were fully upon Laura, beseeching her to hold her tongue while a series of steps took them further away from the INS agent.

"How are we supposed to keep this up for two years?!" Laura lamented with a pained expression when they were far enough away. Remington peered down at her intently.

"By being the happiest married couple in America," he replied, in a quiet but determined voice. The response sparked her temper. Her lips tightened and she looked up at him with fire in her eyes.

"But we're not really married, you conniving con-man!" The reference to his past, the implication that she was an unwitting victim of this latest scheme, and the edge to her tone chafed.

"And that's exactly what Keyes will be trying to prove, my blushing bride," he reminded, passionately.

Feelings, feelings like I've never lost you
And feelings like I'll never have you again in my heart.

"Don't you just love weddings?" Mildred asked Estelle while mopping at her eyes with a tissue as she and Becker watched the couple dance. Estelle sighed heavily.

"I just hope I can get this one to stand up in my report."

"What are you talking about?! We're past the 3-mile limit! This is legal as hell!" Mildred objected passionately.

Across the bow of the boat, Remington and Laura continued to dance. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and she leaned her forehead against Remington's shoulder.

"This is the worst day of my life!" she declared forlornly. A muscle twitched in his jaw. Was the situation ideal? Not by any stretch of the imagination. But the worst day of her life? Because she'd married him?

"Laura, how can you say that?" he inquired, with a devil-may-care attitude he didn't feel in the least. "The honeymoon hasn't even started yet." He smiled at Mildred and Estelle, feigning the delighted groom, while she bestowed on the pair a strained smile.

Feelings, for all my life I'll feel it.
I wish I'd never met you, girl; you'll never come again…


A/N: That's a wrap of the revamp of Bonds of Steele. Ready to continue on to The Steele Who Wouldn't Die?