Steeling a
Dream
Part 1: Diamonds of Steele
Part 1: Diamonds of Steele
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Steele
Holting On
Chapter 7 Steele
Partners
It’s not unusual for a private investigator to end up with the odd injury or two, given the line of work. To keep them to a minimum, it was a standing rule at Remington Steele Investigations to work in teams of two.
Generally, Laura conducted the initial interviews with the clients and began the basic research for the case. She often carried out surveillance independently during the day or spoke to utility companies or other professionals to help build the facts of the situation. Once she began interviewing witnesses, combing crime scenes for clues and conducting covert hunts for information, Remington joined her until the case was concluded. If her husband wasn’t available, Mildred came along to keep the team intact.
The practice worked quite well even when Laura sustained a serious knee injury chasing a suspect down a busy sidewalk. The man shoved her squarely into an ornamental tree with decorative ironwork about its base. She caught her foot in the metal, and her forward momentum caused her knee to connect solidly with the trunk. True to the team, Remington was hard on the heels of the crook and brought him down moments later. She had to limp to a pay phone and call the police before gingerly making her way down half a city block to where he was kneeling on top of her assailant. Unfortunately for her, the hobbled walk made the injury worse by tearing a number of the damaged ligaments even further, requiring surgery to repair the knee.
She returned to work immediately but traded duties with Remington and spent her day dealing with
security contracts. Despite her husband’s constant grousing about the tedious legwork, he pulled it off with aplomb.
After a solid month of healing, followed by another eight weeks of physical therapy, Laura walked
without a limp and resumed her normal duties. And Remington began shadowing her on even the most routine of legwork. She found him loitering in the lobbies of buildings. He made excuses to tag along with her while she questioned a utilities rep at the electric company. She saw him following her car to the bank. She lost count of how many times he “surprised” her with lunch while she was out.
For three weeks, Laura tolerated Remington’s need to trail her everywhere she went. By Friday of the fourth week, however, her patience came to an end. Late that afternoon, she stormed into the office, past Ian and Mildred, and slammed her office door.
“Uh oh,” Mildred commented, “I guess the honeymoon is finally over.”
“Didn’t you say their first anniversary was coming up soon?” Ian wondered.
“Yeah, next month.” She hmmed for a minute, then pretended to read a note from the secretary while Remington stalked through the office and opened Laura’s door.
“Laura!” he yelled.
“Out!” she yelled back, “I’ve seen enough of you for today, mostly in my rear view mirror!” He shut the door to her office behind him.
Mildred leaned over to Ian. “How about you put on the answering machine and we’ll go home early?”
“Um, sure.” They gathered their coats and walked to the elevator. Ian worried a bit. He liked the two detectives, and it was obvious how much they cared for each other. “Do you think they’ll work it out?”
“Psshh. They used to fight like this ALL the time. If you ask me, things have been a little TOO quiet around here.” Mildred jabbed the button for the bottom floor.
Remington knew he crossed a line with Laura just as he knew he could no more stop himself than he could the morning tide. She had been furious when she caught him following her again. He tried for patience and tact. “Can I help it if I fret about my wife while she’s working?”
“Yes! Especially while she’s working!” She retorted, then calmed down somewhat. “Remington, I know you’ve been worried about me since I hurt my knee, and I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You’ve picked up the slack here at the office; you’ve helped me countless times at home. Not once have you complained about all the extra work you’ve had to do. I can’t express how much I love you for that.” Her voice rose again. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you HAVE to let me do my job! I don’t need your following me around every single moment of the day!”
Remington jammed his hands into his pockets and watched her for a long moment. “My apologies, Miss Holt. It won’t happen again.” He walked through their connecting office door and neatly shut it.
Laura winced at his parting shot. It was obvious he was hurt, but she sat and fumed at her desk, muttering about overbearing husbands and insensitive jerks. She sorted through files, not really looking at any of them, then resorted to tidying her desk and shutting down her computer in infinitesimal steps. After that, having worked out most of her mad, she approached the connecting door and knocked lightly.
“Come in.”
Laura slowly opened the door. Remington sat in his chair and was staring out the window, one elbow propped on the armrest and his fist knuckled against his chin. She eased into the room and sat in one of the grey leather chairs facing his desk. Unconsciously, she copied his posture, only she toyed with a thumbnail while she tried to think up an opening line that wasn’t sarcastic or snotty.
“Remington, I … I’m sorry for the way I acted. I should have told you sooner how I was feeling. I was angry, but it doesn’t give me the right to hurt you.” Quietly, she watched him for a reaction.
He rose from his chair and paced in front of the window, hands in pockets once more. The silence
stretched until he broke it by slamming his hands on the desk and leaning across to look her straight in the eye. She jumped. “Bloody hell, Laura, do you know how many people in my life there have been that I truly gave a damn for? One hand! I can count them on one hand! And you’re at the top of the bloody list!” He shoved off and stalked about the room. “I was right behind you and couldn’t do a bloody thing about that bastard we were chasing. I’m damned sure not going to let it happen again!”
Laura rose and leaned against the desk. “Remington, it was an accident. As you once told me, this is a profession that sometimes results in bodily damage--hopefully theirs, but not always.” Her eyes narrowed. “What’s really going on here? We’ve both taken our fair share of hits in the past and we’ve always bounced back and kept on going? Either you didn’t shadow me like this before or you did a better job and I didn’t catch you at it.”
Remington shot a dirty look at her. “If I wanted to hide from you, you would never find me.” He
stalked over to stand directly in front of her. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“No, I don’t. Care to explain?” She didn’t hold back the snotty tone this time.
“Ah, the logical Laura is back,” he sneered.
“Is this about being married? It is, isn’t it? We’re married and suddenly you get proprietary.”
“Proprietary?” Remington fumed. “You think this is about trying to own you? Damn it, Laura, this is about the fact that I love you and have spent the past four months getting you back on your bloody feet. Give me a goddamned break here. If I want to watch over you every bloody day for the rest of your life, you’ll bloody well learn to live with it.” He leaned in to kiss her, but as his lips hovered over hers, he changed his mind and shoved away.
Laura had a flash of insight, recalling a conversation they had months ago. “Up until this happened, it has all been a game to you, hasn’t it? Not us--the agency.”
Remington spun around. “Care to explain?” he dangerously echoed her words.
“It’s what you told me at Disneyland. You never leave someone behind who can’t take care of himself. You’ve stopped believing in my ability to look out for myself or for the team.” She took a ragged breath and slouched on the desk. “I can’t believe how much it hurts to know you think that way.” He started to speak, then fell silent as he took in her words.
She continued, “Being a PI is just thrilling enough that you can treat it a bit like a con game, walking the edge of the law and coming out with the big prize. But in the past, whenever one of us was injured, or even both of us, we acted as if it was a bit of a lark. But it’s not, is it? And it’s not just you; I’m guilty of it too.” She rubbed her hand up and down her arms. “Messing up my knee that badly must have scared you, but you never let on.”
Now Remington leaned on the desk next to Laura and stroked her cheek with one finger. “How am I supposed to stay angry with you when you use that brilliant mind of yours to dig right to the heart of the matter?” He spoke his next words very carefully. “Perhaps you were right about my ... not thinking you could handle yourself. Please believe me when I tell you that’s my heart speaking, not my head. I should have thought more about why I had such a need to protect you and to look a little further than my fear of losing you. For what it’s worth, I’ve never consciously questioned your competence. In my head I know you can take care of yourself.” He paused. “I just need to be with you for a while. Maybe for me more than you.”
Laura shook her head and breathed deeply. “As long as this is about how much you love me and not about if I can still do my job ... I suppose I can deal with your following me everywhere for a while.”
Then he kissed her. And she kissed him back.
Chapter 8 -- Interlude
It’s not unusual for a private investigator to end up with the odd injury or two, given the line of work. To keep them to a minimum, it was a standing rule at Remington Steele Investigations to work in teams of two.
Generally, Laura conducted the initial interviews with the clients and began the basic research for the case. She often carried out surveillance independently during the day or spoke to utility companies or other professionals to help build the facts of the situation. Once she began interviewing witnesses, combing crime scenes for clues and conducting covert hunts for information, Remington joined her until the case was concluded. If her husband wasn’t available, Mildred came along to keep the team intact.
The practice worked quite well even when Laura sustained a serious knee injury chasing a suspect down a busy sidewalk. The man shoved her squarely into an ornamental tree with decorative ironwork about its base. She caught her foot in the metal, and her forward momentum caused her knee to connect solidly with the trunk. True to the team, Remington was hard on the heels of the crook and brought him down moments later. She had to limp to a pay phone and call the police before gingerly making her way down half a city block to where he was kneeling on top of her assailant. Unfortunately for her, the hobbled walk made the injury worse by tearing a number of the damaged ligaments even further, requiring surgery to repair the knee.
She returned to work immediately but traded duties with Remington and spent her day dealing with
security contracts. Despite her husband’s constant grousing about the tedious legwork, he pulled it off with aplomb.
After a solid month of healing, followed by another eight weeks of physical therapy, Laura walked
without a limp and resumed her normal duties. And Remington began shadowing her on even the most routine of legwork. She found him loitering in the lobbies of buildings. He made excuses to tag along with her while she questioned a utilities rep at the electric company. She saw him following her car to the bank. She lost count of how many times he “surprised” her with lunch while she was out.
For three weeks, Laura tolerated Remington’s need to trail her everywhere she went. By Friday of the fourth week, however, her patience came to an end. Late that afternoon, she stormed into the office, past Ian and Mildred, and slammed her office door.
“Uh oh,” Mildred commented, “I guess the honeymoon is finally over.”
“Didn’t you say their first anniversary was coming up soon?” Ian wondered.
“Yeah, next month.” She hmmed for a minute, then pretended to read a note from the secretary while Remington stalked through the office and opened Laura’s door.
“Laura!” he yelled.
“Out!” she yelled back, “I’ve seen enough of you for today, mostly in my rear view mirror!” He shut the door to her office behind him.
Mildred leaned over to Ian. “How about you put on the answering machine and we’ll go home early?”
“Um, sure.” They gathered their coats and walked to the elevator. Ian worried a bit. He liked the two detectives, and it was obvious how much they cared for each other. “Do you think they’ll work it out?”
“Psshh. They used to fight like this ALL the time. If you ask me, things have been a little TOO quiet around here.” Mildred jabbed the button for the bottom floor.
Remington knew he crossed a line with Laura just as he knew he could no more stop himself than he could the morning tide. She had been furious when she caught him following her again. He tried for patience and tact. “Can I help it if I fret about my wife while she’s working?”
“Yes! Especially while she’s working!” She retorted, then calmed down somewhat. “Remington, I know you’ve been worried about me since I hurt my knee, and I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You’ve picked up the slack here at the office; you’ve helped me countless times at home. Not once have you complained about all the extra work you’ve had to do. I can’t express how much I love you for that.” Her voice rose again. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you HAVE to let me do my job! I don’t need your following me around every single moment of the day!”
Remington jammed his hands into his pockets and watched her for a long moment. “My apologies, Miss Holt. It won’t happen again.” He walked through their connecting office door and neatly shut it.
Laura winced at his parting shot. It was obvious he was hurt, but she sat and fumed at her desk, muttering about overbearing husbands and insensitive jerks. She sorted through files, not really looking at any of them, then resorted to tidying her desk and shutting down her computer in infinitesimal steps. After that, having worked out most of her mad, she approached the connecting door and knocked lightly.
“Come in.”
Laura slowly opened the door. Remington sat in his chair and was staring out the window, one elbow propped on the armrest and his fist knuckled against his chin. She eased into the room and sat in one of the grey leather chairs facing his desk. Unconsciously, she copied his posture, only she toyed with a thumbnail while she tried to think up an opening line that wasn’t sarcastic or snotty.
“Remington, I … I’m sorry for the way I acted. I should have told you sooner how I was feeling. I was angry, but it doesn’t give me the right to hurt you.” Quietly, she watched him for a reaction.
He rose from his chair and paced in front of the window, hands in pockets once more. The silence
stretched until he broke it by slamming his hands on the desk and leaning across to look her straight in the eye. She jumped. “Bloody hell, Laura, do you know how many people in my life there have been that I truly gave a damn for? One hand! I can count them on one hand! And you’re at the top of the bloody list!” He shoved off and stalked about the room. “I was right behind you and couldn’t do a bloody thing about that bastard we were chasing. I’m damned sure not going to let it happen again!”
Laura rose and leaned against the desk. “Remington, it was an accident. As you once told me, this is a profession that sometimes results in bodily damage--hopefully theirs, but not always.” Her eyes narrowed. “What’s really going on here? We’ve both taken our fair share of hits in the past and we’ve always bounced back and kept on going? Either you didn’t shadow me like this before or you did a better job and I didn’t catch you at it.”
Remington shot a dirty look at her. “If I wanted to hide from you, you would never find me.” He
stalked over to stand directly in front of her. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“No, I don’t. Care to explain?” She didn’t hold back the snotty tone this time.
“Ah, the logical Laura is back,” he sneered.
“Is this about being married? It is, isn’t it? We’re married and suddenly you get proprietary.”
“Proprietary?” Remington fumed. “You think this is about trying to own you? Damn it, Laura, this is about the fact that I love you and have spent the past four months getting you back on your bloody feet. Give me a goddamned break here. If I want to watch over you every bloody day for the rest of your life, you’ll bloody well learn to live with it.” He leaned in to kiss her, but as his lips hovered over hers, he changed his mind and shoved away.
Laura had a flash of insight, recalling a conversation they had months ago. “Up until this happened, it has all been a game to you, hasn’t it? Not us--the agency.”
Remington spun around. “Care to explain?” he dangerously echoed her words.
“It’s what you told me at Disneyland. You never leave someone behind who can’t take care of himself. You’ve stopped believing in my ability to look out for myself or for the team.” She took a ragged breath and slouched on the desk. “I can’t believe how much it hurts to know you think that way.” He started to speak, then fell silent as he took in her words.
She continued, “Being a PI is just thrilling enough that you can treat it a bit like a con game, walking the edge of the law and coming out with the big prize. But in the past, whenever one of us was injured, or even both of us, we acted as if it was a bit of a lark. But it’s not, is it? And it’s not just you; I’m guilty of it too.” She rubbed her hand up and down her arms. “Messing up my knee that badly must have scared you, but you never let on.”
Now Remington leaned on the desk next to Laura and stroked her cheek with one finger. “How am I supposed to stay angry with you when you use that brilliant mind of yours to dig right to the heart of the matter?” He spoke his next words very carefully. “Perhaps you were right about my ... not thinking you could handle yourself. Please believe me when I tell you that’s my heart speaking, not my head. I should have thought more about why I had such a need to protect you and to look a little further than my fear of losing you. For what it’s worth, I’ve never consciously questioned your competence. In my head I know you can take care of yourself.” He paused. “I just need to be with you for a while. Maybe for me more than you.”
Laura shook her head and breathed deeply. “As long as this is about how much you love me and not about if I can still do my job ... I suppose I can deal with your following me everywhere for a while.”
Then he kissed her. And she kissed him back.
Chapter 8 -- Interlude