The ride to the Blue Moon Detective Agency was quiet with unasked questions. Laura watched the sidewalk go by, cataloging all of the information pertinent to the case. It should have been a simple task—routine if anything—but information gaps that had nothing to do with business and everything to do with her partner kept getting in the way.

She sighed in resignation and tentatively broke the silence. "I know we make an effort not to pry to closely into each other's personal affairs, but—"

Steele interrupted her, a wry expression playing on his lips. "Please, Laura—what personal affairs? The only time we're not together is to sleep at night, and frankly I'm all for abolishing that separation once and for all."

Laura ignored the suggestion to voice her immediate concern. "Madelyn Hayes—know her well, do you?"

Steele looked thoughtful. "Define well."

Laura shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant and failing. "Champagne, oysters…"

Steele winced. "Not that well. We met at one of those crime writer's benefits you send me to. You were on a date." In repsonse to her look of confusion, he clarified, "Last year, that wonderful Cannes agreement to go our separate ways with separate people, remember?"

"Oh." Laura did remember—all too painfully.

"Oh, indeed. Madelyn was there promoting the Blue Moon Agency and I thought, 'there's a beautiful woman, and I'm hungry—" A flash of pain crossed Laura's face. She remained silent, but he noticed all the same. "Please, Laura. That came out wrong. I meant why not take her out to dinner? I was in such a rush to leave the office I never got to grab a bite, and she looked like the type you have to remind to eat more often than not. So, we went out. We had champagne—she had oysters—and I slipped out the back after paying the bill. We had one date, and it lasted two hours and seventeen minutes. I know because she kept checking her watch out loud the entire night."

Laura tried to hid her amusement, but she didn't strain herself. "Some date. You snuck out the back? You?"

"Slipped, Laura. It sounds more dignified." She laughed, and he smiled at the sound. "To be fair, neither of us belonged there. She clearly had other things on her mind, and I had more than enough on mine."

"Oh? And what did you have on your mind?"

He turned to meet her eyes, thinking he'd admitted to worse and she was still sitting there beside him. He grinned down at her—without his eyes' usual conman glint—and whispered conspiratorially. "You."

Laura blinked back, a little stunned. "Oh."

Steele nodded and looked away. He smoothed the pad of his thumb over the steering wheel and hesitated for a few minutes before continuing.

"She called me Mr. Steele," he said quietly. "And it bothered me a lot more than it should have—than I ever expected it to."

Laura nodded, trying to look understanding and supportive, but radiating puzzled bafflement all the same. He attempted to explain:

"No one calls me Mr. Steele, Laura. They introduce me as Remington Steele, clients simply use the last name, and women use the first or some variation thereof." Laura winced, remembering the unfortunate 'Remy' incidences. Steele nodded and continued. "My old mates call me Harry, or Richard, or Dougie—whoever they knew me as, and that's the way it should be. But you and Mildred call me Mr. Steele and at the time you were the only person in the world who knew the truth—that actually, I have no name. Mr. Steele is yours. I'm yours, Laura. And hearing Mr. Steele from the lips of Maddie Hayes just made that fact all the more glaring."

Laura sat still in shock. "Oh," she said, at a loss for anything more articulate to say.

Steele nodded and changed the subject, delighted to make her squirm for a change.

"So just how did you meet this Mr. Addison? Brownies?"

Laura narrowed her eyes at the road ahead. "Why would you like to know?"

"Oh, come now, Laura. You know I find endless fascination in the everyday affairs of your scintillating past." She turned to look at him with one eyebrow quirked in an expression of skepticism. "Yes, well, in your past affairs, anyway."

"Mmmm. I see."

"You do?"

"It was nothing. Just one encounter in my misspent youth."

"Hmmm. I'm beginning to think it's a real tragedy my misspent youth never ran into yours."

"I think it would have been a tragedy if we had. Can you imagine the math major meeting the Kilkenny Kid?"

"Oh, I don't know. I like to think the Kid would have been smart enough to try a few summations." He grinned at her, eyes sparkling with barely contained mischief. Her misspent youth had gotten a lucky break evading his—those eyes could have talked her into far more reckless escapades then she'd ever embarked upon. Of course, they still could…

"That's what I'd be worried about."

"Did David Addison try any summations?"

"Not that I recall. It was one night, a long time ago, but as I remember he was a perfect gentleman. In fact, I remember being a little miffed the next morning that he hadn't tried anything."

"Oh, really?"

"Well, he was cute and funny, and he had this sad story—I was a sucker for sad stories. We—ah—met one evening in my junior year, and we talked all night long; then we parted company. Haven't spoken since."

"David Addison—that David Addison—went to Stanford?"

"Not exactly."

"Then where did you two meet?"

"Let's change the subject, shall we?"

"Oh but, Laura, it was just getting interesting…"

"So, who would want to kill a gynecologist?"

"A little more than 51% of LA?" He snickered at his own joke before catching Laura's less than amused eye. He made an effort to sober his expression and forestalled her chastisement with a mumbled apology. "Sorry, Laura."

The Blue Moon office shook as Maddie Hayes slammed her inner office door shut for the third time in an hour.

On the other side, David pouted at the closed door with his hands on his hips. "Oh, com'on Maddie! You're crazy about me—admit it. You look at me you see china patterns. That's ok—we can work with that. That's what a partnership's all about. You see china patterns; I see China. We're almost there; we just have to find some middle ground."

Maddie wrenched her door open again with a growl. "You are the most insufferable human being I have ever had the unbelievable misfortune to stumble across! You are lower than low—there are single-celled organisms feasting on animal dung somewhere with better social skills than you. The only way I envision china patterns in conjunction with you is if I'm fantasizing about hurling a Wedgwood platter at your worthless head!"

She sucked in the next breath like a substitute for mind-numbing liquor, her cheeks flushed with anger, her hair wild with frustration. Her eyes flashed and sparkled under the fluorescent light; if she could have, she would have zapped him with a bolt of lightning from those eyes.

David grinned, clearly enjoying the show. "Worthless, huh? Well at least I won't miss it."

She screamed in frustration and sent the door flying back on its hinges to make the doorframe and the walls attached to it quake—probably in fear. Once the tremors abated, Agnes released her protective hold on the fragile objects she'd braced through the storm and picked her head off the desk. She removed one earplug and glanced over at the partner still standing in the outer office.

"Is it over, Mr. Addison?"

David favored her with a wry smile. "For now, Agnes. Tune back in after lunch, I'll give you a floor show."

There was a discrete cough behind David's right shoulder. He turned slowly, dreading the worst. He found Laura Holt and Remington Steele instead, and since it could have been a client, or Maddie's parents, or—terror of terrors—his brother, he figured that the universe had decided to give him a break.

Steele smiled sympathetically. "Domestic troubles, Mr. Addison?" he asked diplomatically.

David shrugged. "What, that? She's crazy for me." Another muffled scream shook the office door behind him. Agnes put her earplugs back in.

"Well, she's crazy anyway," David amended with a smirk.

Laura bit her lower lip and glanced sideways at her partner. "I hope we're not intruding, but we did say we'd drop by to fill you in on Dr. Symmons' death."

Agnes removed one earplug again. "Dr. Symmons? My Dr. Symmons?"

David nodded. "Who else? Why don't you sit in on this one, Agnes, put your mind at ease. Someone, please do the introductions; I'll go get the boss."

He knocked on the closed door and called, "Hey, Mad-dieee! We got company!"

There was a crash from within, followed by the sound of stomping footsteps. Then the door flew open again; it's creak of protest covered by Maddie's snarl. "A likely story—" She stopped mid-screech, spotting Steele and Laura in the outer office. "Oh…"

David laughed. "You got to start trusting me more often, Blondie. They've got some news. Is your office presentable, or should we mosey on over to mine?"

Maddie blinked, struggling to find her place in the conversation. "Mine's fine. Come in, come in." She stood back, staring at David as he ambled past, followed by Laura, Steele, and Miss Dipesto. She felt an apology was due. "Sorry about that. Administrative conflict."

Steele looked amused. He leaned down to whisper in Laura's ear. "I'd call it more of a lover's tiff."

Laura patted his arm and shook her head to forestall further comment. "Glass houses, Mr. Steele, glass houses."

Maddie motioned them onto one of the couches and moved to sit next to Agnes on the other. David, for once respectful of her clear desire for space, grabbed one of the desk chairs and sat on it backwards.

Once seated, Laura took it upon herself to break the tense silence. "We gave Dr. Symmons office a thorough going over, and while we discovered a few suspicious items, we're still not at all convinced the man was murdered."

"But I just know he was!" Agnes wailed. "He wouldn't die—not just like that. He couldn't!"

Steele gave her a sympathetic smile and patted her hand. "I assure you, Miss Dipesto, if the good doctor was the victim of any foul play the autopsy will show that, and Miss Holt and myself will not rest until the culprit is revealed and appropriately dispensed with by the appropriate officials."

Agnes nodded, looking comforted if still woebegone. Maddie recognized the many charms of Remington Steele at work and did her best to distract her secretary. "Why don't you go make us some coffee, Agnes?"

"Some tea would be lovely, Miss Dipesto," Steele added with a gentle smile.

Maddie glared at him, clearly not over the failed date. "We only have coffee."

David shook his head at her and shrugged by way of apology to Laura, who shrugged back. She was more than accostumed to the way her partner could rub certain people the wrong way. Agnes sniffed and shook her head. "I'm sure we have something floating around in the file cabinet. Mr. Addison sometimes likes tea when he's—when he has a headache. Let me see what I can do."

"And some chocolate milk, Agnes, would you mind?" David called after her as she went out, figuring she was dazed enough by the great Remington Steele to not protest digging through his office fridge.

He turned back to find Maddie and Steele entertaining themselves with a glaring completion. David leaned forward against the chair back and spoke to Laura. "So what'd you find, Stats?"

Laura shrugged. "Well, among other things, one long, blonde hair and some fairly suspicious book keeping. I'm not sure how it's all going to pan out, but it looks like our client's fiancé is in the clear at the very least. That's if the doctor was murdered at all."

Steele nodded, breaking eye contact with Maddie. "We'll have to wait a few days for the autopsy report. In the mean time, our best financial expert will work her way through the books and see what she can come up with. We'll check out the office and ask around. Maybe a few more suspects will turn up."

David shook his head. "I did some calling around for you. Sounds like this Dr. Symmons was a pretty well liked guy. A little shady, perhaps, but friendly and easy to talk to. His practice practically had lines out the door, despite his advancing years. You see the way Agnes is about him. I couldn't turn up anyone who would have wanted to kill him."

"All the same," Steele said, "we'll have to follow up on our own. Thank you for all your help, David, Madelyn. We'll be in touch." He stood up and looked down at Laura. Before she could move, Maddie broke in.

"Leaving so soon, Mr. Steele?" Her gaze was anything but friendly.

He winced. Laura patted his hand and stood next to him. "We have to be going. Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hayes." She smiled at David. "Davy, it's always a pleasure."

David grinned back. "We ought to meet at crime scenes more often, Stats. Come share my postal code anytime."

She laughed. "Will do. Mr. Steele?"

Steele followed her out and from outside, David could hear him speak to Agnes.

"Miss Dipesto, you're a marvel. I regret we'll miss your splendid coffee."

Agnes giggled and from the sounds of grinding teeth emanating from Maddie, David could tell she had heard the exchange, too.

He tilted his head in her direction. "What gives?"

She stood and fluffed the couch pillows—a sure indication that something was bothering her. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Maddie—you're picking fights with another man. What are the kids going to think?"

"What does it matter?"

"They're gonna think Mommy's having an affair is what they're going to think."

"That's ridiculous."

"Is it? 'Cause Dad's getting a little suspicious over here."

"David," she said with exasperation. "Even if I was dumb enough to get involved with a man like Remington Steele, what possible difference could it make to you?"

He shook his head, unsure whether he was amused or annoyed. "You really don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

He laughed without amusement and stood up. "Remington Steele, huh? Who'da thunk it? We'll just have to see how worthy Charm Boy is. Can't have you throwing yourself at just any Tom, Sid, and Sue." He left the office, determination in his stride.

Maddie's concerned eyes followed him. "Oh, David…"