All the usual disclaimers. Just another
depraved fan living in a world of her own.
Summary: When Murphy is forced to ride home with our favorite
person (yes, it's another one of THOSE stories), he ends up meeting
some of Steele's old friends and as they get a bit more candid
with each other, he gets to know Steele himself a bit better.
Set during the first season, sometime
after the one I did on "Steele Golden Afterthoughts".
Also, the character Tabby is from an AWESOME story by Sinead,
which can be found on the KrebsFiles RS Mailing List page. PLEASE
email me with feedback; the only reason I was brave enough to
write a second story is because I was encouraged by someone who
read the first. My email address is
LaughingCat@aol.com. Thanks!
________________________________________________________________________
Laura walked into the connecting office,
and Murphy looked up. "How was the luncheon?"
She sighed. "The usual. They kept wanting to speak with our
illustrious Mr. Steele. I had to tell them he was called away
on urgent business. Where is he, by they way?"
Murphy sneezed before replying. "About an hour ago he walked
out of the office; he didn't say where and I don't want to know.
Maybe we'll get lucky and he won't come back."
Laura rolled her eyes. "Murphy, I keep telling you, he provides
a valuable service for the agency. Now if we can please…"
She stopped when Murphy burst into a fit of coughing. "Murphy,
are you alright?"
He took a sip from the glass of water on the desk. "I don't
know. I think I'm coming down with something. Felt kind of queasy
all morning."
Laura looked concerned. "Well, listen, it's about 2:30, so
if you want to leave early there's nothing else going on. I need
to take the limo for the meeting to see Mrs. Williams about the
case she wants us to take on, but you can borrow the Rabbit."
Just then the agency door opened and Mr. Steele strolled through.
Laura felt the all-too-familiar sensation that he was the only
thing in the room that needed her attention, but managed to shake
it off when she realized Murphy was staring at her. She walked
out to meet Mr. Steele. "Where have you been? I needed you
for the luncheon ceremony. That's supposed to be your reason for
being here, to act as the front man. You can't keep walking out
on us like that."
He looked her in the eye, and she was forced to look away to keep
from melting. "Laura, I sincerely apologize. I would have
come, but personal business held me up."
"Like what, a button fell off your Italian suit?" interjected
Murphy, who had wandered in to see where this went.
Steele looked disdainfully at Murphy. *Does the man ever bloody
quit?*
"Actually, my dear Murphy, a friend of mine seems to have
caught a bit of the flu. I went out to help her she could get
a bit of a rest. I'm truly sorry if Americans consider that against
business hour regulations, but I'm still acquainting myself with
your very interesting customs."
Laura immediately felt guilty, but hid it. She couldn't seem to
stop herself from asking instead, "Who was this *her* ?"
"An old friend of mine staying with another friend. My old
chum Monroe is currently out of town, so she's using his apartment."
*Of course, that doesn't answer what Laura really wanted to know
about Kathleen…but I won't tell her that Kathy and I are
no more than friends, and that she has a daughter, even though
the poor child's father isn't around…*
"Oh…well, that's nice of your friend Monroe. Is she
going to be here long?"
"Why Miss Holt, you seem particularly interested in her;
are you leading up to something?"
Laura sensed danger and hastily retreated. "Oh, no, no, I
was simply wondering how long we could expect you to be wandering
off while we deal with irritated clients." *There, get him
on a front he can't argue.*
He picked up her hand and briefly touched his lips to it. Laura
felt a bit dizzy, and Murphy glowered. "Don't worry, Miss
Holt, next time she needs my help I promise to let either you
or the industrious Miss Wolfe (the latter, seated at the reception
desk, pretended to ignore the name) know first. Now, however,
I've only come to get my coat; I need to pick up groceries for
her and drop them off. If it's alright with you I'll be using
the limo again. Well, good day!" He picked up his coat from
the corner rack, but Laura stopped him from leaving.
"Wait, I need to use the limo to get to Mrs. Williams because
I may end up transporting her to the airport if we don't get everything
cleared up before her flight. You can take the Rabbit, and in
fact, why don't you drop off Murphy too?"
Murphy started to protest, but Laura shushed him. "Come on
Murph, you need to get home. You've been sneezing and coughing
all day, and (putting a hand on his head) your forehead feels
like LA in the middle of summer during a meltdown. No buts. Go."
Steele had also looked slightly objective, but one glance from
Laura dissipated any opposition. "Er, yes, why not? I only
need to make a few stops along the way, and I shall have you home
in the blink of an eye." He headed out towards the elevator,
and with one very resigned glance at Laura, Murphy followed.
****************
"So what 'few stops' are these? I thought
I heard you say you only needed to bring her some groceries. You
weren't lying to us, were you?" He glanced at his companion
in the driver's seat.
"Of course not, old boy, I simply didn't think a few more
menial tasks were worth mentioning. I assure you, I have no intentions
other than to help my friend."
"How? Stealing some rare paintings and lending her the money?"
"On the contrary, I just need to fetch her groceries from
the local market, drop off a few letters at the Postal Office,
and run to my apartment to get something for her. Of course, if
you'd prefer, I can turn around at the next available stop and
bring you home first."
Murphy considered that for a moment. He told himself that of course
if he had the opportunity to spend less time with the thieving
con-artist, he ought to jump at it. For some reason, though, lately
it had been harder to find things to hate about the man. He opted
to stay, reasoning that this way he might meet the woman and see
if there was anything between the two. He had no doubt Laura would
be grilling him about it. With a sudden thought, he realized that
maybe that was why Laura had been so insistent he go! A part of
him was glad to help her straighten out her love life, but another
part felt jealous that she cared so much about her mysterious
blue-eyed stranger and felt so little in that department towards
himself.
He realized that Steele was waiting in expectation for his answer.
What Murphy didn't know was that Steele had halfway expected him
to want to meet the unknown woman anyway, and had already gone
well on that route. "Yes, well, I guess I ought to stay in
the car. It'd just be ridiculous to go back now; probably get
stuck in traffic anyway."
"Good. Ah, here's the market. She doesn't need much, I'll
just be a moment. Would you prefer to stay here or come in?"
"I'll come in. It's cold out here."
Steele looked at him sideways. "I usually don't consider
sixty-seven degrees to be chilly, but then again I'm used to colder
climates, I suppose. Does Los Angelos even get snow?"
"Nope. We wear short sleeves at Christmas. But I'm not feeling
well, so it's probably just me. Either that, or my hunch was right
and you're cold-blooded." He smirked as they entered the
store.
Steele smiled. "No, no, only in comparison to you American
hotblooded men. The rate of murders and assaults in this city
alone is beyond comprehension."
It only took Murphy a minute to think of a comeback. "Well,
maybe that's just your level of comprehension…I think the
rest of us are ok." He was startled when Steele laughed.
" Touché! You and Tabby would make a hilarious team."
He chuckled to himself, lost in some memory.
Murphy had been expecting another comeback, and was completely
lost. "Huh? Tabby? Wait…what?"
Steele grinned. "Now whose comprehension is below average?
Sorry, it's just that since I met you I've been trying to remember
who you remind me of, and I just figured it out."
Murphy looked bemused, until he hit upon it. "Oh! Wait, is
'Tabby' from a movie?" For some reason, that made his partner
laugh so hard his eyes began to water. Murphy just stared.
Still laughing, Steele wiped his eyes. "No, not this time.
Just an old friend of mine. Who knows, maybe some day soon she'll
leave the wonders of globetrotting and writing to come visit me,
and then you two will meet up and drive me to the nearest loony
bin. Bedlam, here I come!"
Murphy shook his head and decided not to bother anymore. Looking
down, he saw that the little cart Steele was carrying was almost
overflowing. "I thought you were just going to pick up a
few necessities."
"Well, you know….I can't help it, I keep seeing stuff
I know she'll like."
Murphy picked up something labeled in French. "Geez, she
must be a really good cook if she knows what all this junk is."
Steele took it and placed it almost lovingly back in the cart,
or rather, balanced it on top of the pile. "Actually, the
best thing she can really do is reheat pizza or (he shuddered)
put instant canned foods on the stove and try not to burn it.
I usually cook for her when she's around."
They headed towards the checkout line. Murphy mulled over this
new aspect revealed to him. "I didn't know you could cook."
Steele looked amused. "Well, you know Laura would kill me
if I dined at Che Rive for every meal. As it is, I do quite well
by my cuisinary skills." He handed the woman at the counter
a credit card issued in the name of the Agency. The two men headed
back to the car.
"Now we're going to the Post Office?" asked Murphy.
"No, my apartment first. I have a letter there I need to
drop off, and since we'll have to go to it anyway, I might as
well get it. It's not far from here, though." *Strange.*
he thought suddenly. *Murphy and I are really getting along quite
well. The cold must have derailed his cognitive skills. Then again,
this hasn't been as bad an experience as I thought.*
***********
Murphy idly picked up a notepad by the phone
in Steele's apartment while the latter changed into jeans and
rummaged through a stack of papers by his nightstand. He was starting
to really feel queasy now, and he began to regret the snack he'd
had in the car on the way from the supermarket. There was also
the clichéd jackhammer going off in his head. "Listen,
Steele, do you have any Advil or Tylenol or something?" he
called into the other room.
Steele came out thumbing through some envelopes. "What was
that?" he inquired. Too late. Murphy was running for the
bathroom.
When he was finished, he turned around to find Steele standing
there with a glass of water, which he held out to him. Murphy
gratefully accepted it with some embarrassment and started to
apologize, but Steele raised a hand to stop him. "Quite alright,
in fact it may be that my friend and you have the same illness.
Look, why don't we forego the Post Office and head straight to
Monroe's home? Or I could just take you straight to your place."
Murphy flushed. "Um, no, I think I'm over it. C'mon, let's
go to, uh, Monroe's."
Steele shrugged and walked into the kitchen, opening a cabinet
and pulling a bottle of medicine down. "At least take some
of this first."
Murphy looked at it. The label was way out of date, and he was
used to pills. "Do you know how old that stuff is?"
"Well, you could wait till we get there, instead. I hate
taking pills; avoid medicine whenever humanly possible."
Murphy glanced dubiously back at the bottle. "Yeah, I think
I will wait, no offense." They walked out of the apartment
to the elevator. "So, if you don't like medicine, what do
you do when you get sick?"
"Mmn. I don't get sick very often. With the exception of
accidents, of course. I'd rather have a cough than have to get
up in the middle of the night and swallow pills, anyway."
Murphy shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat, I guess. Some
people it's spiders, some it's pills."
Steele looked blankly at him. "I don't own a boat. Well,
not at the moment, anyway. I once did rather fancy a catamaran
in Monte Carlo…"
Murphy took a minute to figure out what he was rambling about.
When it hit him, he burst into a fit of laughing but started coughing
again midway through. Steele cautiously started search his pocket
for a handkerchief before remembering he was now wearing jeans.
The elevator reached the ground floor, and the two men stepped
out, Murphy still chuckling.
"Murphy, I see you're a bit overwrought by your illness…I
think maybe you ought to sit down for a bit…Hmm?"
Murphy stopped chuckling long enough to answer, but kept a big
grin on his face. "No, no, it's just - I mean - I didn't
mean that literally."
"Mean what?" He looked wide-eyed at Murphy.
"About the - oh, never mind. I could have said it bakes your
cookies."
"Bakes my - are we talking about cooking again?"
Murphy threatened to double over with laughter again. Trying to
keep a straight face, he replied, "No, no, just forget about
it."
"Americans. Mix up one's mind and then throw the battered
remains out the window. No wonder your nation can't even produce
a decent cup of tea."
"Coming from a person whose country doesn't even deliver
pizza to your door and calls French fries 'chips'…"
"Considering that my country was around for centuries before,
and yours only came around about two-hundred-something years ago
- dumping all that good tea into the harbour, I might add; I suppose
that's where you get your 'taste' if you can lower your standards
to call it that, you really have no argument."
"Oh yeah? Well for your information, there was a pretty darn
good reason to leave! And you know what THAT was? You Brits are…"
They continued their banter on the way to Monroe's home. The friendly
argument only ended when Steele knocked on the door, and Murphy's
headache, which had lightened up, was returning. They heard a
voice and some sniffles coming from inside.
"Harry, is that you? I'm (cough) coming, hold on a min."
A woman opened the door. She was a little shorter than Murphy,
with black hair pulled back into a messy ponytail that made her
look rather endearing.
Steele gave her a brief hug and nearly kissed her cheek, but she
pulled away. "Uh-uh, I'm touched but sick. If I passed this
on to you, you'd have to take a -dun duh dun!- PILL!" She
finished with an exaggerated eye-roll and looked over at Murphy.
"Hi, I'm Kathleen. If you haven't a clue what I was talking
about, just forget it and I'm not a strange person." Steele
laughed whole-heartedly at the last statement, and she glared
at him. "Anyway, what's your name?"
Murphy could see he was going to like Kathleen. "I'm Murphy.
I'm sick too, just here to see if we cancel out each other's health
problems."
She grinned. "Maybe we can work together to get Harry here
to cook for us poor invalids. What do you say, Harry?"
He had taken the bags of groceries into the kitchen already. "You'll
have to come in here to talk, Kath, I'm cooking."
Murphy laughed. Kathleen led him to the sofa to sit down, and
the crucial question hit him. "So, is that his name? Harry?"
"I have to admit, I'm not quite sure. 'Licia (she said with
a bit of menace) always calls him Michael, and he goes by lots
of other names too. Most of his closest friends call him Harry,
though. With the exception of, say, Milo de Winter and some others."
" 'Fraid I haven't met any of his friends. He seems to have
something against trusting us with the facts of his past."
She looked at him. "How much reason have you given him?"
While Murphy pondered that, she looked up in surprise to hear
a commotion in the kitchen. "Harry? What's going on in there?"
A female voice answered her question cheerfully. "He's burning
his soup, that's what! The gourmet chef, defeated by a stove!"
"Am not! It's just a little overdone! I can't help being
distracted by you suddenly popping in a window!"
Kathleen grinned and half-ran into the kitchen. Feeling slightly
out of place, Murphy followed her.
"Tabitha! Great to see you!" She hugged her. "I'd
give you a kiss, but-"
"I know, I know. I heard Harry was playing nursemaid, and
since I was in California anyway on a story I thought I'd come
surprise you, and find out if the rumors were true about him."
She jerked a thumb in Steele's direction.
"What rumors?" questioned Harry.
"ONLY that the notorious con artist was working on the other
side of the street now. Can't be true. Go on and tell me, what
are you up to?"
"Here now, that's what I should be asking you! The last time
you told me that you were just in town for a story, I ended up
getting out of bed at three in the morning, driving ten miles
to Sanchez's mansion, breaking in through the window and spending
twenty minutes trying to get you out of that hanging harness.
THEN, the cops came around because your partner had tripped the
alarm, and we ended up hiding in a marsh for the rest of the night!"
"Oh, come on. It didn't happen like that! You must have gotten
it out of a movie or something. Besides, I've gotten you out of….situations…too,
y'know. Now come on with that feast of yours; I'm hungry and it's
the only thing you do better than me."
"Not true! What about…." The conversation turned
to fond memories and playful jibes again. Murphy would've felt
left out, but Steele was a great storyteller. Tabby was constantly
adding things to the stories and demolishing his embellishments
("That's not what happened, Harry!" "Well, it should've
then!"). Kathleen lent him some medicine, and they played
cards until Harry was finished with dinner. Afterwards, they ended
up back in the living room talking. By the time Steele and Murphy
left, with promises to visit soon, it was 7:45.
Murphy opened the door to the passenger seat as Steele went around
to the other side. "I must say, Murphy, I'm happy you got
along so well with my friends. I wasn't sure exactly what I could
expect."
"Hey, thanks for letting me meet them! I mean, you know some
really cool people. I had a lot of fun tonight. It's funny; I
still know practically nil about your past, but I know you and
them a lot better. All that crazy stuff you guys did…"
Steele smiled. "Well, don't put yourself down either. If
there's one regret I've been having recently, it's that I never
really knew how to commit to anything. You and Laura worked really
hard to get where you are now."
He could see the excited light in Murphy's eyes. "Yeah, but
you guys did so much cool stuff! I mean, P.I. work gets kind of
predictable sometimes, but that was really neat. And Tabby - well
- she's really something. I mean…well…"
Steele laughed. Murphy looked over at him. "What?"
"Just imagining the thought of you two together. I admit
when I mentioned her earlier, I didn't realize you two would meet
so soon. And it's sometimes strange for me to discover that men
are actually attracted to HER. I suppose growing up with her molded
my viewpoint too much."
Murphy was silent for a moment, remembering he'd originally intended
to be checking out if Steele was fooling around with some woman,
so he could tell Laura. "So, you've never been attracted
to her, then?"
"Not on your life. I'd rather have hot needles stuck under
my nails than go out with her! We used to each have an entire
collection of things to say to people who thought we were together.
A mutual contest, of sorts, to see who could come up with the
most insulting way to put it." He grinned. "I've never
with Kathy, either. Believe it or not, I do know several women
with which I have friendly, platonic relationships."
Murphy smiled. "I guess it's kind of like a sister thing.
My friend Robert in college had a gorgeous sister a year younger
than him, and it always freaked him out that we all thought she
was hot. But tell me, who's Lizzie?"
"Lizzie?"
"When you and Tab were talking about whatever you did in
South America, Kathleen and I were talking and she said something
about 'Lizzie' staying with you and then with someone named 'Cor'
while she was in Africa. I didn't get a chance to ask her about
it, though."
Steele looked pensive for a moment, and Murphy wondered if he'd
said the wrong thing. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have worried
about it. Anyway - "
"No, it's quite alright. Ah - well, about seven, nearly eight
years ago, Kathy and I were in Italy visiting some friends. At
the time, she was heavily involved with a jerk named Andrew Langston.
At least, he wasn't really a jerk until the end. Just a nice,
quiet man who liked every thing in its place. The rest of us never
really thought he was her type at all - she was always so lighthearted
and careless, he was a full-blown tosser, and they just weren't
a good match. Anyway, they ended up having a colossal argument
over a night that Kathleen had gotten drunk and then went and
had sex with him without taking her pill. She seemed to be fine,
but he just couldn't stand it anymore - it was the last straw
for him, that this irresponsible woman could forget her protection
just like that. She pleaded that it would never happen again,
but he left anyway. Then - well, the worst came true. Nine months
later I became an adopted uncle."
Murphy was fascinated, disgusted by this Andrew, and vaguely reminded
of Wilson Jeffries. "Then…that's who Lizzie is?"
Steele nodded. "A delightful black-haired little pixie-girl
with a spirit to rival the sun, moon and stars."
"But, did you ever contact Andrew?"
"Yes, a friend of mine managed to unearth him in a small
American town in the Midwest. He refused to hear of it; he wanted
nothing to do with Kathy or the child. And I swear, if the bugger
ever shows himself with any of us again, he'll be po faced as
well at a wet prat. But" - he smiled - "I won't bore
you with any more stories tonight, because we've reached your
house."
Murphy got out and walked up to the door. As he turned the key,
he faced Steele again. "Hey…seriously, thanks for…trusting
me with all that. I had a good time. Good night, I guess."
Steele smiled again and waved. "Good night, Murphy."
He drove off as Murphy entered his home. The phone was ringing,
and he rushed to the kitchen to get it. "Hello?"
"Murphy! Where on God's green earth have you been?! I've
been calling you for hours now! You were supposed to get dropped
off, and then he'd return my car. I need it! What happened?"
Laura was between fuming and anxiety.
"Oh, god Laura, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you would be
waiting."
"That doesn't explain where you and he were!"
"We were just…well, he stopped to visit Kathleen - that
was the woman - and we ended up all eating together, and talking,
and it just got late. Did you know what a great cook he is? And
he's done all this really cool stuff, too! I mean - not that I
like him now or anything, but he's not so bad when you get to
know him."
Laura sighed. "Alright, I know you're sick, Murphy, so maybe
you can talk more rationally later. It's Saturday, so you can
sleep late. As long as he's bringing me my car I'm fine. I'll
see you later, ok? I have to finish these files."
Murphy shook his head. *I wish you'd learn to relax, Laura. It's
eight o'clock on a Friday night, for heaven's sake.* He said his
goodnight and hung up.
Throwing off his pants and crawling gratefully into bed, the thought
of Tabitha sprang unbidden to his mind. He smiled into the darkness.
*And just maybe, it wouldn't be so bad to drive home with Steele
from now on.*
Finis!