Remington stepped in front of Laura as Bing barreled through the door.

"Mr. Steele!" the large man practically squealed as he pulled Remington into an embrace. "I'm so happy to see you."

"Good to see you too, Bing," Remington replied as Bing set him down and he began to regain his composure by straightening his tie.

"Miss Holt!" Bing exclaimed and moved toward her.

"That's Mrs. Steele," Remington corrected and put his arm around Laura to keep Bing from accosting her.

"Congratulations," Bing said, stepping back.

"Thank you, Bing," Laura answered. "Now, how can we help you?"

"Well," he answered, sitting down on the sofa and knocking several pictures off the wall in the process. "Daddy put me in charge of the Perrett Foundation. And usually, he's around to tell me what to do."

"But?" Remington asked.

"But now he's in Maracaibo and he's not reachable."

"And where do we fit in, Bing?" Laura asked.

"A Hand Up-LA has asked us to underwrite their Fall/Winter 1988 budget," Bing answered.

"A Hand Up-LA?" Laura asked, looking at Remington.

"I've never heard of them," Remington said with a shrug.

"Me neither, Mr. Steele," Bing said. "That's why I'm here. Last time Daddy was gone, I invested a lot of the foundation's money in a racehorse," as he paused to take a breath, Laura winced. "I thought that if we were making money on the horse then I would actually be helping the foundation and Daddy would be so proud…"

"But you didn't make any money on the horse," Laura said.

Bing shook his head.

"Darn thing came in dead last in every race he entered. We ended up losing more money than we might have made in the first place."

"And let me guess," Remington said. "Daddy wasn't happy."

"You got it, Mr. Steele."

"I suppose we could look into them for you, Bing," Laura said.

"Oh thank you, Miss Holt!" Bing said, jumping up. He nearly fell over the coffee table as he grabbed Laura into a bear hug. He caught Remington's stern look and stepped back to release her. "Uh, I mean Mrs. Steele. Thank you so much! You won't regret this."

"I doubt that," Remington mumbled.

"You're welcome, Bing," Laura said, glaring at her husband.

Remington placed his hand at their client's elbow and guided him to the door. Opening it, he ushered Bing into the outer office.

"We'll be in touch," he said. "Miss Krebs will show you out."

Remington closed the door and turned back to his wife. They both cringed as they heard a loud crash of breaking glass.

"The vase," Laura said.

"At least it wasn't your Correia," Remington said. "Are you all right?" he asked sincerely as he gently took her in his arms.

"I'm fine," she answered. "I'm pregnant. I'm not a china doll."

"Nor are you a rag doll," he said. "But you wouldn't have known it by the way Bing was flailing you around."

"It's sweet of you to worry," she said. "But really…I'm fine."

Remington knew when to let go. Laura's fierce independence was one of the things he loved about her. Since their marriage, he'd found that there were times when she'd let him pamper her--- and when she did, he made the most of those opportunities. But Remington knew his wife; over these next few months of her pregnancy Laura would need more pampering than usual, but she would probably be more resistant to it, also. He was learning to pick his battles. Life with Laura would always keep him on his toes. He smiled as he thought of his old friends and their thoughts that a life on the straight and narrow was a sentence of continuing boredom. How wrong they were! Love was definitely a slippery slope and his Laura kept him dangling dangerously close to the edge.

----------

Remington looked up from the stove as Laura padded in to the kitchen wrapped in her favorite fluffy bathrobe.

"How was your bath?" he asked.

"Heavenly," she answered. "I feel so relaxed."

She walked over to the wall of windows and looked out over the Pacific. Remington walked up behind her, and pushed her hair aside as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He leaned in and placed gentle kisses along her neck and jaw line.

"Relaxed enough to call your mother?" he asked quietly.

"That's a dirty trick," she said, turning in his arms. "But yes, I think so."

"Good," he said, kissing the top of her head before returning to the stove.

"How long until dinner?" she asked.

"About twenty minutes," he answered. "Long enough?"

"Probably not." Laura shook her head with a smile. "I'll wait until after dinner."

"Laura," Remington began to scold. "We've put it off long enough."

"I'm not putting it off, Mr. Steele," she told him. "I'd just rather wait until after dinner, when you're not busy and can sit by my side."

"Lovely sentiment Mrs. Steele, but it's getting late in Connecticut."

"Good. Maybe she'll be sleeping when I call and think she's dreaming."

"Laura."

"Okay, okay," she relented. "But don't go too far. You're the only one who can reason with her."

"I'm right beside you Mrs. Steele," he said. "Always."

Laura picked up the cordless phone and began to dial her mother's number. She leaned against the counter next to where her husband was working.

"Good evening, Mother," she said into the phone.

Remington listened intently to Laura's side of the conversation.

"The new house is lovely. Yes, you'll have to come out and see it…"

He turned off the stove and removed the skillet from the heat. Picking up his wine glass in one hand, he took Laura's hand in the other. He walked over to the table in front of the window and sat down. He pulled Laura down into his lap and gently rubbed her back as she continued to listen to the latest goings on with Abigail's bridge club.

"That's wonderful, Mother," Laura said as she rested her head against Remington's shoulder. "I'm so happy for you… Actually, yes Mother. I did have a reason for my call," she said before taking a deep breath. Her husband kissed her cheek and she refocused her attention on her mother. "Remington and I have some wonderful news of our own," she said and Remington could hear his mother-in-law shriek on the other end of the line. "Yes, Mother," Laura said. "That's right… Mmm-hmm… Just about four months… "

Remington closed his eyes and continued to try to soothe his wife. Talking to her mother was always difficult and he knew she'd been putting off this conversation because she feared her mother's disapproval. He wasn't worried. He knew that Laura would be a wonderful mother, whether she believed it or not.

"… Well Mother, things have been rather hectic. Moving into the new house…"

"… No Mother, of course I was going to tell you…"

"… No, I haven't told Frances yet…"

"… I just wanted to get used to the idea myself, first…"

Remington could feel Laura tense as the conversation continued. He reached up and took the phone from her.

"Abigail," he said. "Remington here…"

----------

"I haven't come up with much on A Hand Up-LA, Chief," Mildred said, walking into Remington's office. She handed Laura the file. "All of Bing's contacts seem to check out."

"Do you have an address, Mildred?" Remington asked.

"Sure," she answered. "It's in the file."

"What are you thinking?" Laura asked.

"I don't know," he answered. "But something doesn't feel right. I want to go down there and check it out."

"We could go this afternoon," Laura said, checking her watch. "Oh no, I can't. I forgot I'm having lunch with Frances; I want to tell her about the baby before Mother gets to her."

"That's all right," Remington said. "You go on and have your lunch. I can go check up on A Hand Up-LA by myself."

"Okay," Laura agreed. "Then we'll meet back here."

"Right. You have Fred drive you to Frances," he said. "I'll take the Rabbit."

----------

"Thanks for meeting me, Frances."

"Of course, Laura. It's not often my little sister invites me to lunch."

"I know," Laura said. "And I'm sorry about that. I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot more of each other from now on. Have you spoken to Mother lately?"

"I called her on Sunday like I always do. Why, is something wrong?" Frances asked as the waiter approached the table.

"May I get you ladies started with something to drink a glass of wine perhaps?"

"I'll just have iced tea," Frances said.

"That sounds good for me, too," Laura told the waiter. She went on as he walked away. "And no," she said to her sister, "nothing is wrong. In fact, I actually have some good news."

"You're pregnant!" Frances exclaimed, clapping her hands.

Laura smiled and rolled her eyes. Was she going to get to tell ANYONE? At least she got to tell Remington. He was so cute when he told Mildred, and then both her mother and her sister guessed as soon as she said she had news.

"How could you possibly know that?" she asked.

"You're glowing!" Frances gushed.

She'd heard that said of other pregnant women, but she'd never seen it… and she hadn't noticed it in herself, either.

"So you're happy, right?" Frances asked.

"Of course," Laura said with a smile. And she realized she really was; in fact, she couldn't remember being happier about anything. Now that she was sure that her marriage wasn't on its last legs, the idea of bringing a child into the world and giving her Remington Steele a real family meant more to her than anything.

"And Remington?" Frances asked. "I'll bet he's just thrilled."

"He is," Laura said, her smile matching that of her sister.

"So, how far along are you?"

"Seventeen weeks."

"That long and you're just telling me now?"

"I wanted to take some time to get used to the idea."

"I understand," Frances said. "You needed time to work through all the possibilities. To convince yourself it was going to be all right. You had to make lists and strategies," she said, smiling. "In other words, you went all Laura on the situation. You probably didn't even tell Remington for weeks. Am I right?"

"Yes," Laura said, hoping her mouth wasn't gaping open. She had no idea Frances knew her so well.

"How did Mother take the news?"

"She's flying in tomorrow."

----------

Remington ran a comb through his slicked back hair as he walked into the office of A Hand Up-LA. Looking around, he noticed a few people who looked as if they would have been "at home" at Wallace's mission. He saw a young woman sitting at a desk, apparently immersed in paperwork. It looked legitimate enough. The young woman noticed him and looked up.

"How can we help you?" she asked.

"Just thought I'd 'ave a look around," he answered. "You're new 'round here, aren't you?"

"We just moved to this location last month," the girl answered.

"What do you do?"

"Well," she said. "I'm sorry… I didn't catch your name."

"I didn't toss it," he answered, extending his hand. "Todd," he said. "Johnny Todd."

"Well Johnny," she said. "We do whatever the community needs. If someone is down on their luck and needs a hand, we provide it." She pointed to a man sitting at a table using the telephone. "Earl over there has been out of work for six months. We're helping him to find a job. His neighbor, Mrs. Vasquez didn't have anyone to watch her kids so she could work. We found her a babysitter."

Johnny nodded as the young woman went on. She nodded toward a young man cleaning the front window.

"Emilio needed some place to go during the day to get away from the gangs that roam his neighborhood, so he helps out here around the center. What about you, Johnny? Is there something we can do for you?"

"My bird," he said. "She's gonna have a baby."

----------

"So what did you think of our charity?" Laura asked as her partner leaned against her desk.

"They seemed on the up and up," Remington answered.

"But you're not convinced," she said.

"No. They just seemed a little too squeaky clean, if you know what I mean. Too quick with all the right answers."

"I'll follow your gut on this one," she said. "After all, you ARE our resident expert."

"Laura," he said with an exaggerated sigh. "You know I never had anything to do with something as vile as a bogus charity."

"Of course not," she said. "But you are the Master Con around here."

"Ah, but I must beg to differ Mrs. Steele. You perpetrated the biggest con of all when you fabricated your Remington Steele."

"Prove it," she said with a grin. "MY Remington Steele is most definitely NOT a fabrication. He's flesh and blood. And incredible flesh at that."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mrs. Steele," he said.

"That, my dear Mr. Steele, I already know," she said with a gleam in her eye. "But unfortunately, it's still the middle of the business day and we have work to do."

"Ah, but I have anin with the Boss," he said, leaning in close to her.

"Yes, you do," she said, raising her eyebrows the way that he always did. "And the Boss can't wait for you to use it," she paused as she closed the gap between them and kissed him. "Later. Now, what about A Hand Up-LA?"

"You can come up with your own conclusions on the morrow," he said.

"Oh?" she asked.

"We have an appointment with the director in the morning."

"We do," she said, waiting for the explanation.

"Yeah," he answered, tugging on his ear. "I went down there as Johnny Todd. To get any information, I had to present myself as a client," he said.

"And?"

"And I told them that my girl was in trouble and I couldn't afford the bun in the oven."

"Ah, so the littlest Steele gets his first undercover assignment," she said.

"Her," he corrected. "The littlest Steele gets HER first undercover assignment."

"You don't want a boy?" she asked, surprised.

"Honestly, I hadn't really thought of it," he said. "At least, not consciously. But when you suggested the baby might be a boy, all I could see was a little girl… perfect, like her mother."

"I'm not perfect," Laura said.

"More than I," he said.

"You're perfect for me," she said, wondering if it was hormones that were making her feel this way. It was so unlike her to gush and be so flowery. It had to be the baby, she thought with a smile.

----------

"No, I think you're right," Laura was saying to her husband as they walked into their offices. "There's just something not right about the place. And that Brian was just a little too…"

"…smarmy?" Remington suggested.

"What in the world are you wearing?"

Two heads spun around to the source of the question.

"Mother."

"Abigail."

Laura realized what her mother had said and looked down at her torn jeans and faded t-shirt. She thanked her lucky stars that she'd already taken off the padding that accentuated the littlest Steele. She glanced at her husband. With his hair slicked back, his leather jacket and t-shirt, he looked nothing like the Remington Steele her mother knew.

"We were out on a case," she said.

"A case?" Abigail asked, incredulous. "You're going undercover? In your condition?"

"Condition?" Laura asked through gritted teeth, as Remington placed his hand on her shoulder. "Mother, I'm not incapacitated. I'm having a baby."

"As long as YOU realize that, dear," Abigail said with just a hint of condescension.

Mildred, who had been looking on with amused interest, cleared her throat.

"Can I get you some more coffee, Mrs. Holt?"

"Excellent idea, Mildred," Remington said, ushering his mother–in-law toward his office. "Let's move into the office," he said. "It's more comfortable in there."

"I'll be with you in a minute," Laura said, turning toward her own office.

Remington closed the door behind them as Abigail moved to the sofa in the conference area.

"Abigail," he said. "We weren't expecting you until this evening."

"I took an earlier flight," she said.

"We wanted to meet you at the airport," he told her.

"I didn't want to be a bother, so I just called a taxi."

"You could never be a bother, Abigail," he assured her. "We planned to make an afternoon of it, go back to the house, let you get settled…"

They both looked up as Laura emerged from her office, looking much more like the professional Laura that her mother had expected. She walked over to her husband and placed her hand on his shoulder. Seeing that she'd regained her composure, he gave her a wink and excused himself. He wasn't out of the room ten seconds before Abigail began.

"Really Laura," she said. "I can't believe you'd go traipsing around, doing whatever it is that you do and putting my grandchild at risk."

"Hello to you too, Mother."

"There's no need to be flip, Laura."

"Okay," Laura said with a sigh. "First of all if you don't even know what it is that we do, then how can you accuse me of putting the baby at risk?"

"I watch television, Laura."

Laura laughed.

"Mother, private investigators are rarely portrayed accurately in television and the movies. I assure you, it requires more brain than brawn," she paused, smiling as she remembered describing her work with those very words another time years earlier.

"Ah ladies," Remington said, emerging from the bathroom looking every bit the part of Remington Steele in an expensive Italian suit. "Why don't we take our leave?"

"Aren't you busy?" Abigail asked.

"We cleared the afternoon to meet you at the airport," Remington answered.

"Oh, you really shouldn't have done that, Remington," Abigail said. "Your work is so important," she paused as Laura smiled.

Laura's smile fell as her mother completed her sentence.

"Laura can take me to get settled."

Remington watched as his wife was taken over by a thinly veiled cover of rage.

"Ladies," he said, taking his mother-in-law by the arm. "I think we should go." He looked back over his shoulder to Laura apologetically and ushered Abigail out of the room.

To be continued….