PARALLEL PARKING
Written by Ann Rivers
Summary: Did you really think Laura would let that 'park it' line go unpunished...? Murphy did...
Bad move there, Murph...!
Spoilers: The story is set just after Sting Of Steele
Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me – more's the pity, since I think poor Murphy
definitely deserves a pay rise ! I'm just borrowing them for a little bit of fun.
Also if anyone knows where Murphy actually comes from, can they please let me know ?
Only I'm working on some more RS stories, and some accurate background would come
in really handy !!
Failing that, some feedback would be great instead... I've heard it's excellent therapy...
She'd be lying if she said she hadn't enjoyed it – this chance to be close to him, work with him again.
It had brought back fond memories when it been just the two of them, working happily together.
Two young, enthusiastic, newly qualified PI's, let loose on the streets of LA and learning their trade –each supporting the other through the inevitable mistakes, forging a very special bond in the process.
Then he'd come along... that blue eyed, smooth talking charmer who'd taken her invention's identity.
He'd breezed into their lives – irrevocably changing them both so they'd never be the same again
If truth be told, Laura Holt often felt guilty that Murphy had been shunted to the agency's sidelines.
He was a natural detective – inquisitive, tenacious, with an instinct to find clues to rival a bloodhound.
He was a good friend too, the best friend she'd ever had, always there when she needed him.
One of those rare friends who, when they said to call anytime, day or night, actually meant it.
The closest thing she had, in fact, to the big brother she'd always wanted.
Of course, not many big brothers would dare order their younger sister to 'park it.'
They wouldn't see them as the proverbial bimbo, good only for making coffee and 'lookin' beautiful.'
And they certainly wouldn't give their sister's backside a brisk, if highly enjoyable, goosing.
Oh, she knew he'd only been acting out his part of the plan... the plan she herself had come up with.
And he'd done an excellent job of masquerading as Steele, too, just as she'd known he would, but...
well, that playful squeeze in the seat of her skirt had, quite definitely, not been part of the plan.
Judging by the wicked smirk he'd had on his face, he'd enjoyed it too. Enjoyed it a little too much.
So had she, of course. But that didn't mean she was about to forgive, or forget. Not by a long shot.
Hence this visit to Murphy's office, to enjoy one of their old, much missed chats over morning coffee.
Well, that was the outward reason, at least. Inwardly, Laura Holt was on a mission of sisterly revenge.
A mission which, perhaps thankfully, Murphy Michaels knew nothing about.
Bernice knew about it though – well, how else would Laura have known of her victim's arrival...?
Seeing the mischief on her face, Bernice returned Laura's grin with one of equal wickedness.
Part of her felt sorry for him – after all, Murphy was as much a big brother to her as he was to Laura.
Then again, after hearing, with much giggling, what he'd done to Laura... oh, he had this coming...!
And faced with a choice of opening mail or watching Murphy Michaels suffer – well, it was no contest
Tossing the latest pile of bills and invoices onto her desk, Bernice moved swiftly to Laura's side –
both women trading grins of wicked anticipation as they watched him through his half open doorway.
Not surprisingly, he'd already put that brief excursion into Steele's wheeler dealer world behind him –
preferring, no doubt, to settle back into the genuine world of his own gentle, sweet natured identity.
Watching him read through his notes for their latest case, Laura couldn't stop a fondly proud smile.
Slouched in his chair, those endless legs propped up on his desk, Murphy was the study of relaxation.
Gone was the suit and tie, the knuckleduster rings, the cigar, and that revolting, chauvinistic arrogance. Back was the gentle, easy going country boy who'd seemingly been born in a pair of deep denim jeans
And how those jeans suit him... Laura mused idly, still watching him. Especially on those legs...
Shaking herself free of those thoughts, albeit with difficulty, Laura returned to the matter in hand.
Trading a final mischievous wink with Bernice, she then poked her head around Murphy's door – greeting him with a bright, innocuous, femininely guileless smile.
"Murphy...? If you're not too busy, can I talk to you for a moment...?"
The reaction was just as she'd hoped for – startled surprise as he swung his legs back to the floor,
followed by genuine, conveniently unsuspecting pleasure at seeing her.
"Hey, I've always got time for you..." Murphy insisted, with the loyalty that was his and his alone –
the cheery humour fading as his ever suspicious mind leapt to what, for once, was an unjust conclusion
"Okay, what's he done now...?" he sighed, in the long suffering tone only one person ever provoked.
On spotting Bernice, now in fits of laughter in the doorway, his eyes widened in comical alarm.
"Oh no, don't tell me...! He's – He's fallen into Bernice's filing cabinet, never to be seen again...!"
Pausing for effect, he then cast their no longer quite so amused secretary a wickedly mischievous grin.
"Hey, Bernie, guess that filing system of yours has its good points after all... "
"Hey, another crack like that, Michaels, and you'll be tossed in there with him..." Bernice shot back –
her attempt to look and sound annoyed not exactly helped by a still helplessly twitching mouth.
Ignoring his whipped puppy expression, knowing how irresistible those big brown eyes could be,
she turned instead to Laura, making a sly, whispered request to her quietly chuckling friend.
"You know, there's more chance of getting him 'parked' if... well, you know, if I stay and help..."
Not trusting herself to speak, for fear of giving the game away, Laura simply nodded agreement –
noting, in relief, that Murphy was too busy clearing a chair for her to notice this brewing conspiracy.
"Okay, but don't dent him too much... I still need him alive for tonight's surveillance..." she grinned,
trading a final wink with her co-conspirator, before both homed in on their unsuspecting prey.
If that prey had any idea on what was about to befall him, then he certainly wasn't showing it.
With two beautiful women suddenly snuggling up to him, Murphy wasn't complaining either.
"Awwww, gee, ladies, I love you too..." he drawled, more than happy to hug them both in return.
Grinning too, but for a far more mischievous reason, Laura chose her moment, then suddenly frowned.
"You know, Murph, you look really tired..." she said at last, her tone of concern pitched to perfection.
Not giving a suddenly puzzled Murphy a chance to reply, she then winked across his chest to Bernice.
"What do you think, Bernie...? I think Murphy's been working much too hard lately, don't you...?"
"Oh yes, absolutely..." Bernice agreed, choosing her moment with the same immaculate timing.
"I think that Murphy here should just sit down in his lovely, comfy chair, and relax, while we..."
"Fetch him some coffee..." Laura chipped in, her tone innocent – the glint in her eye anything but.
Seeing that glint, guessing where the mischief from it was heading, Murphy's smile suddenly faded – whatever he planned to say to sweet talk himself out of trouble lost in a sudden, startled yelp.
"Ow...! Laura...!!!!"
As Murphy stared at his wickedly grinning tormentor, Bernice happily took her own sweet revenge.
"Run him some errands..."
"Hey...!!! Bern-ice...!!!" A pause this time, followed by a suitably outraged whine of protest.
"Awwwww, Bernie, you could at least have chosen a different spot...!"
For once unmoved by that notorious whipped puppy expression, Bernice merely smirked at him –keeping him cunningly distracted while Laura, with sadistic pleasure, stepped up the attack.
"Or 'build him a bourbon'... right...?!? Sweetie...?!?"
"Yee-ow...!! Awww, c'mon, Laura...! You – You know that was all just part of the... ow...!!!"
"Or, of course, we could just stand around here, lookin' beautiful..." Bernice pointed out –
her talent for mimicry switching from Murphy to Laura as she copied her friend's no nonsense stance.
"What do you think, Murphy...?!?"
"I think your phone needs answering..." Murphy retorted, feeling a sudden need to go and do just that.
But then he'd reckoned without two deceptively strong women who still had much mischief in mind.
"Not so fast there, country boy..." Laura warned – steering him, with Bernice's help, back to his seat.
"Now, as you so sweetly put it to me yourself yesterday... park it...!!"
Not daring to argue, protest, or even breathe too loudly, Murphy settled, very gingerly, into his chair – uneasily wondering what these two sadists in skirts had in store for him next.
It was the stance which every man dreaded. One that every woman had honed to perfection.
Hands on hips, jaw set, chin raised, with a choice of eyebrow raised in unmistakeable warning.
And now Murphy Michaels had two of them to contend with. Two lots of serious female attitude.
Not to mention a backside that now ached and tingled in several, gleefully squeezed places.
Little wonder, then, that Murphy Christopher Michaels suddenly looked very, very nervous.
Of course, in the absence of chocolates, roses and jewellery, there was only way left to appease them.
"Um...lunch...? My treat...? " he finally ventured, offering each in turn his most heart-melting smile.
Under the double assault of that smile and plaintive brown eyes, Bernice felt her resolve start to waver.
The promise of a free, slap up meal at their favourite restaurant, of course, had nothing to do with it. "I'd better get onto Del Amico's now, get our orders booked in before the rush..." she said brightly –
stealing a kiss on Murphy's cheek before, struck by a sudden thought, her grin slyly widened.
"And Laura and I get to choose whatever we like from their executive menu... right, Murphy...?"
Faced now with losing half his month's salary on a single meal, Murphy just nodded resignedly.
He could protest, of course, but... well, not even he was that dumb...
"Sure, Bernie, whatever you say..." he sighed, wincing slightly as he added an equally rueful request.
"Just do me a favour, and choose a booth with nice, comfy, real soft seats... okay...?"
Pointedly ignoring Bernice's laughter as she left, he sighed once more before turning to Laura – finding it impossible from her grin of mischievous triumph not to start laughing too.
"Guess I kinda deserved that..." he chuckled, gently hugging her to show there were no hard feelings.
"Yes, you did..." Laura agreed, leaning in to give him another, far more pleasant surprise.
"But not half as much as you deserve this..."
It was nothing more than the usual gesture of closeness between them, a platonic kiss on his cheek.
But the pleasure from it still left Murphy blushing to the same deep shade of maroon as his shirt.
"Okay, butt pinching bad... cheek kissing good..." he said at last, gently hinting for another.
Yet even when Laura laughingly obliged, he could still sense the troubled seriousness beyond –
the merest thought that he'd hurt the woman he loved now causing his face to fall in dismay.
"Laura, what I... I – I mean, in front of Hoskins... what I said, it – it wasn't true..." he stammered,
the explanation cum apology tumbling on, regardless of a startled Laura's attempts to stop it.
"I – I mean, all that casting doubt on your abilities, putting you down in front of him, I – I hated that...
if not for ruining the scam to set him up, I'd have decked the creep for what he said about you..."
Seeing the genuine agitation on that normally calm and placid face, Laura couldn't help but smile.
Hell might hath no fury than a woman scorned, but a peeved big brother ran a pretty close second.
"Yes, Murphy, I know... and I love you all the more for being here to defend me..." she replied softly,
feeling a now familiar bittersweet pride as she met his eyes, marvelling at the loyalty she found there.
"And you're always here for me, Murph..." she went on, finally voicing the words she needed to say.
"I know I don't often say it, but... well, this agency just wouldn't survive, let alone exist, without you.
In fact, in many ways... well, you'll always be the real Remington Steele..."
Murphy's eyes widened, in genuine surprise and pleasure at these unexpected words of appreciation.
Then he grinned, those eyes wickedly glinting as he gave Laura a kiss of heart stopping proportions.
"Is that right...? So I'm the real Remington Steele...?" he asked, in a tone Laura knew only too well.
Still dazed from that astonishing kiss, it took her several moments to realise that he was now moving – those long legs taking him to the door so rapidly that Laura had to hurry to catch him up.
"Murphy...? Where are you going...?" she asked, though she already had an increasingly nervous idea
When Murphy Michaels had such an expression of pure and utter devilment on his face as this –
well, whoever was on the receiving end of that devilment was usually in for one hell of a shock.
"Well, Laura, at the moment his car is in my parking space..." he explained, winking slyly back at her.
His next words, the utter relish with which he spoke them, left Laura too helpless with laughter to reply.
"So now I am going to tell him to... well, 'park it' somewhere else...!"
Still laughing, Laura followed him across the lobby, gesturing for a startled Bernice to join them.
Parallel parking had been fun, of course, but this... oh, this promised to be even better...!
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