Steele Dreaming

by Tanya Reed

Disclaimer: I do not own Remington Steele or its characters.

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"These are the last two boxes," Laura said, pointing to two big ones sitting on the desk.

"You're sure?" Lettie asked, picking one of them up.

Laura looked at Remington and he nodded. When he did so, Laurie picked up the other box, hefting it into her thin arms. Then, both she and Lettie headed for the door. As they reached it, they noticed that the other two weren't following them.

"Are you coming?" their daughter asked.

"Yes," Laura replied. "Just give us a minute."

Lettie nodded in understanding. "All right. We'll wait in the car."

The two young women went out, leaving Laura and Remington alone in the big office. As the door clicked shut, Laura sighed.

"Shall we take one last look around, Mrs. Steele?" Remington asked.

Laura nodded, turning, taking everything in. She smiled as she gazed at the pictures of a very young Remington on the wall of the office. "It's hard to believe we were ever that young." Her smile widened as her gaze wandered to the window. "Do you remember when Alfred tried to jump from this window? Alfred…Alfred…What was his last name?"

Remington walked around the desk and sat in the chair. "I've seen a lot of things from this chair. The great detective Remington Steele…a man who doesn't exist."

Laura laughed. "Doesn't exist? You look pretty real to me. Not only that, you've more than measured up to the man I imagined you to be."

His face broke into a grin, still boyish after all these years. "I've rather enjoyed your company myself."

Then, Remington got out of the chair and came over to take Laura's hand. Her eyes filled up with tears as she realized that they would never be alone in this office again. With a breaking heart, she led him to the right and through a door.

A cluttered desk and a wall of file cabinets met their eyes. Laura went to the cabinets and ran her index finger down the front. Remington stood in the doorway, watching her.

"We've had some pretty good arguments in this room," he said.

"Yes," she agreed, "But this is also the room where I made up the name 'Remington Steele.' I remember Murphy was sitting in the next room." A far away look came to her eyes. "He was reading the newspaper. I was here, behind the desk, deep in thought. I had just rented the office space and I needed a name-the perfect name-for my office door. Berniece came in, and…What did she say? It was something to do with…" Then Laura's delighted smile broke over her face, as it often did quite unexpectedly. "Oh, yes. Berniece came in to tell me something to the effect of 'Laura, when are you going to get me a new typewriter? That one is the pits.' Typewriters. How annoying that she should come to talk to me about typewriters when I was about to make the greatest decision of my career. Then, it just popped into my head. Typewriters! Of course! Remington, that was a manly name if I'd ever heard one. But, Remington what? It was at that moment that Murphy showed up in the doorway. He was reading the sports section, and something had caught his eye. Seeing that I hadn't bitten off Berniece's head, he decided that I was approachable, and so he said something like, 'Have you read the latest on the Steelers?' And there it was. It hit me like a double whammy-Steele. Remington Steele! It was strong, it was hard, and most of all it was decidedly masculine. That's how it started, all here in this office."

"Ahh, Murphy and Berniece. Good friends, eh?"

"The best."

The two of them were silent for several moments before Remington suggested, "We'd better go."

"I suppose you're right," Laura agreed sadly.

Together, they wandered into the reception area. Images flitted through their heads as they remembered when Mildred sat at that desk and expertly conducted the business of the office. Of course, she hadn't manned the desk for quite awhile now, and when the next day came, it would see their sixteen year old great niece Fran answering the phone. Suddenly, Laura became homesick for the old days.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing?"

"Of course we are, Laura," Remington assured her. "We're old. It's time for us to let the kids have a go of it on their own. Besides, Laurie's been doing most of the leg work for almost five years now."

Once more, his wife sighed. "I suppose you're right, but I sure am going to miss this place."

"So am I, Laura. So am I."

Saying this, Remington put his arm around Laura's waist. She leaned against him, silently taking support from the only person she had ever allowed to see her weaknesses. Together, they turned their backs on the place they had called home for over thirty years, and, without looking back, they went through the glass doors, still boldly exclaiming 'Remington Steele Investigations,' for the last time.