"Only after I make the formal announcement, Sid. I'd hate for this hit the papers before Laura knows about it. I do want to thank you again for coming over there this morning and for agreeing to work for the Agency, Sid."
"No problem, Mr. Steele. Don't have a lot to do these days. How long do you think it will be before you tell Mrs. Steele about this?"
Curious about what her husband was up to now, and from his hospital bed, no less, Laura pushed open the door without further delay. "Good morning, Remington," she said brightly, moving to his side as the rumpled little man moved aside. "Hello," she said, holding out her hand toward him. "I'm Laura Steele. And you are-?"
"Ah, Laura," Remington said in an expansive tone, designed, Laura was certain, to avert her suspicions. She knew that tone too well. Every time he did something that he didn't think that she was going to approve of, he sounded like this. "You're looking incredibly beautiful this morning."
"And you must be recovering nicely to have found your Irish Blarney," she told him. "What's going on?"
"You know how much trouble we have with the press, Laura," Remington began. "The way that reporters never seem to write what they're told about our cases, always insisting that *I* solved this crime or that-"
"Cut to the chase, please, Remington. According to Dr. Morgan, you're scheduled for surgery in a hour."
"Hmm. Well, I hired Sid here to handle public relations for the Agency," Remington explained rapidly.
"Sid?" Laura questioned, examining the little man with more interest. "Sidney Blake? Of the Tribune?" She smiled broadly.
"Guilty as charged, Mrs. Steele," Sid confessed, his own smile revealing his delight at being recognized.
Remington looked surprised. "You've heard of him?"
"*Heard* of him?" Laura repeated, taking Sid's hand to shake it, looking like a school girl meeting an idol. "I read every investigative report he ever wrote for the Trib when I was in school. He was as much a hero to me as Elliot Walsh," she informed Remington.
It took Remington only a moment to place the name. Early in their relationship, a case had taken them into the seedy world of television news to investigate a series of accidents- and eventually deaths- surrounding a local news crew. Elliot Walsh, a former world-class journalist- and a hero a Laura's - had ultimately been proven the killer.
"Poor Elliot," Sid sighed. "Such a loss. And all for nothing. His actions didn't change anything."
Laura nodded. "It's a young man's game, isn't it? Fairly or unfairly. I wondered whatever happened to you. After I finished college, you just disappeared from the Trib's bylines."
"Not by choice," Sid told her with a hint of bitterness.
"So, what were you two discussing?" Laura asked the men, and immediately saw the look they gave each other.
"Umm," Remington began, clearly trying to think of some convincing lie.
But Sid held out the morning's newspaper toward her. "This, actually." Laura took the morning's edition of the LA Tribune, with its headline "Laura Holt-Steele Saves the Day". Beneath it was a photo of Laura taken sometime during the previous day.
"I saw it," Laura told them. "Megan was reading it to Patrick when I left the house. They send their love, by the way," Laura told Remington. He had called the house earlier to talk to the children, trying to reassure them that he was indeed well and that he hoped to be home soon.
"Sid here thinks that it's good PR for the Agency," Remington informed her. "That is- if you're coming BACK to the Agency," he finished, sounding uncertain.
Laura smiled and took his hand. "I am. Laura Holt Investigations has officially closed its doors- for the last time." She felt Remington's fingers tighten on hers momentarily. "That wasn't the only article. Daddy found a couple more in the smaller papers, too."
"All of them about the same," Sid nodded. "No real input from you, just scattered quotes from your father and sister in law and the police about your plan."
"Well, I wasn't in any shape to give interviews last night," Laura reminded Sid. "I was worried about Remington."
"Understandably. And as far they go, they're mostly very good and very complimentary. But there *are* some errors. This one implies that the only reason you came up with such a daring plan was because of the years you've spent with the Agency. Now, if I were to set up an exclusive interview for you with someone who would be able to get the story right, would you be willing to talk to him?"
"I- suppose so," Laura told him, ignoring the curious look that Remington sent in her direction.
"Good. Then I'll get right on it." He folded the paper under his arm. "Glad you're feeling so much better, Mr. Steele."
"I'll feel even better one they get this piece of lead out of my shoulder," Remington replied.
Sid grinned. "Kinda gives new meaning to the term 'lead poisoning', doesn't it?"
Remington groaned. "Please, Sid. I'm not a well man."
The newspaper man nodded toward Laura again, picking up his brown fedora as he spoke. "I'll be seeing you, Mrs. Steele. Good luck."
"Thank you," Laura said, watching as the door closed behind him. "You hired him for public relations?" she asked Remington once they were alone.
"Laura, it was either that or have him expose the truth about the humble origins of Remington Steele."
"Good lord. Not another Norman Keyes," she sighed, sitting down beside the bed.
"Not at all. I think Sid will make a fine addition to the firm. But I did tell him we'd get him some office space somewhere-"
"Where's he working out of now?" Laura asked.
"The basement of the Trib, apparently. His secretary works in the morgue down there." Remington squeezed her hand to get her attention. "Laura, did a sense some- ambivalence when Sid was talking about all of the good press you're getting from this? Or was I wrong?"
She shook her head, then slipped her hand from his to pace around the room. "No. You're not wrong. I know that's why I left- because I didn't feel like I was getting due credit for what I did with the Agency. But now that I have it- Do you know that someone stopped me on the way into the hospital and asked for my autograph?" she told him, laughing slightly. "Someone mentioned yesterday that I was a hero- but I realize now that even if I were the toast of the town, it wouldn't mean a thing if I didn't have you to share it with me."
Remington extended a hand toward her. "Come here," he said in a gentle voice, and waited until she moved to place her hand in his. "I love you, Laura Holt-Steele. And once I'm out of this torture chamber, I have a surprise for you."
"Really?" Laura questioned, her gaze moving over his sheet-covered body. "I'm looking forward to it."
"Uh hmm," Remington said, clearing his throat. "Not *that* kind of surprise, Laura." He pulled her closer, bringing her face to his for a long kiss. "But now that you mention it-" as he tried to put his left arm around her, he winced in pain. "Bloody hell," he said.
Laura was torn between frustrated laughter and concern. "Should I call the nurse?" she offered.
But Remington shook his head, retaining his hold on her, keeping her close. "I'd much prefer Dr. Holt attend to my needs."
"Dr. Holt-Steele," Laura corrected, placing another kiss on his lips. "I've missed this."
"So have I." He pulled her close again, only to sigh in frustration as the door opened.
Tony stood there, watching them. "Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt."
"Come in, Antony," Remington said, keeping a hold on Laura's hand, insuring that she remained beside the bed. "I want to thank you for -"
Tony waved aside his gratitude. "I didn't do much. It was Jess and Cameron who took care of you in there. And Laura who got us all out."
Laura noticed the dark circles under Tony's eyes, the pallor of his complexion. "Tony, are you okay?"
"Yeah. Uh-" he pulled an envelope from his pocket and held it out to her. "Here."
She took it from him, frowning. "What's this?"
"My resignation. Effective immediately."
"Your resignation?"
"What?" Remington asked, sitting up straighter and wincing at the sudden movement. "Antony, mate, I know we've had some difficult times, but-"
"My mind's made up. Jess suggested that we both need some time- so I'm gonna give it to her."
"What are you going to do?" Laura asked, feeling the blanket of her own guilt grow heavier.
"I thought I'd go visit the folks back East. It's been awhile since I've seen them. Mom hasn't been feeling well. Might even try to open a place of my own there, once I get my license for New York."
"Tony, I'm sorry-"
"Hey, it's not your fault, okay? I screwed up. Big time." He glanced at Remington, and even Laura could see the confirmation of Tony's words in her husband's blue eyes.
"When are you leaving?" Laura asked.
"This afternoon. I spent most of last night getting things packed up. There's an address in there where you can send my last check. Listen, tell Jess- if she ever needs to get in touch with me-"
"You're not going to tell her goodbye?" Remington questioned.
"No. We said our good byes last night. You were right, by the way. She and Cameron do make a good couple. I hope she finds what she deserves."
Remington released Laura's hand and held it out. "Good luck, Antony."
"Thanks. You too."
Laura moved to give him a brief, chaste kiss on the cheek. "Keep in touch, okay? And if you ever need anything-"
"Thanks."
He walked out the door, and Remington reached out to touch Laura's arm. "Hey. He'll be okay, Laura."
"I know. But- this is all my fault. Tony and Jessica breaking up, you getting shot. If hadn't gone off like I did-"
"It's not your fault. Antony himself admitted that he messed up. And as for my being shot, you had no way of knowing that someone would try a daytime robbery of those diamonds. Speaking of which, I think I've figured out who Zachary reminded me of."
"Oh?"
"You're going to say that I'm crazy. Or paranoid- but- his laugh reminded me of Major Descoine."
"Descoine?"
"Descoine. I have the feeling that if you dig deeply enough, you'll find that he's either some relation of the Major's that heretofore we didn't know existed- or knew him in prison."
***
Jessica and Philip Cameron were about to enter the hospital as Tony pushed through the glass doors to leave. "Antony. Are you here visiting Remington?"
"Yeah. Laura's up there with him. I think they're about to take him to surgery for his shoulder." Jessica nodded. "I gotta go. Good-bye, Jess." He nodded in Philip's direction. "Cameron."
Jessica stood there just outside the doors, watching him walk away. "Earth to Jessica," Philip said at last, waving a hand in front of her face. "Come in, Jessica."
"I'm sorry, Philip. I just-"
He slipped an arm around her waist, a comforting move, with nothing threatening about it. "I understand." During their chess game, Jessica had slowly told him about her ten year relationship with Tony Roselli- and the reason that it had ended so abruptly. Philip had agreed not to put any pressure on her, to let their friendship move forward at its own pace. "Do you want to go after him?" he asked now, hoping her answer would be what he hoped it would be.
Jessica shook her head sadly. "No. It's over. I have to put the last ten years behind me and look ahead." She smiled up at him.
He placed a light kiss on her brow, hoping she didn't see the relief in his eyes at her words. "Let's go see Remington and Laura, shall we?"
***
That evening, after Katherine, Edward and Mildred had all paid their visits to the post operative patient, Laura sat with Remington in his room, keeping an eye on him. "They said you could probably go home tomorrow," she said.
"Good the sooner I'm out of here the better," he fretted, fussing with the IV tubing. "God, I hate hospitals."
"I checked up on Zachary," Laura told him as she batted his hand away to adjust the tubing, then took his hand in hers. "Turns out that he's Descoine's son."
"His son, eh? I didn't know he had a son."
"We didn't know he had a daughter, either, remember? Percy Descoine, Junior was placed into a foster home when the Major was put into prison following Lily Martin's suicide. His sister was, too, but she ran away. When the Major was released the first time, he had no idea where Minor was, but the courts refused to release Junior back to his custody. Apparently, though, Junior spent a lot of time with dear old Daddy at the prison when he got older- and he blames us for the Major's death in that escape attempt a few years ago."
"You found out all that just today?" Remington questioned, amazed.
Laura shrugged, as if it were nothing. "You put me onto it." She looked down at their intertwined fingers, then up at him. "What *were* you and Sid talking about this morning when I came in?" she asked him. "And don't try to scam me with all that about the morning papers. Patrick could have seen through that."
"I thought we covered rather well," Remington said.
"*We*?"
"Okay, Sid covered well. I never could lie to you convincingly, could I?" he said with a charming smile, tugging on her hand, trying to pull her closer to him.
"No. Which should be a lesson to you, Mr. Steele. Now give. And no trying to distract me, either."
"Hmm. Okay. I guess I might as well tell you now. I'm planning on making the announcement when I leave the hospital."
"Announcement?" Laura repeated, suddenly recalling something he'd said about retiring- "You're not quitting the Agency, too?"
"Oh, no. No. I asked Jessica to start things in motion to set up a scholarship fund- for young women who want to become private detectives."
"A- scholarship?"
"The Laura Holt-Steele Scholarship for the study of Criminology," he confirmed, his blue eyes searching her face. "I've started the fund off with a sizable donation- and she's going to contact some other detective firms around the state, see if they want to contribute."
"A scholarship- in my name?"
"Um hmm," he said. "You don't like the idea," he said, his face falling as he misread her expression. "I thought that you would-"
"Oh, no. I love it." She bent to give him a kiss. "Thank you. But- why?"
"I got the idea from Philip's Foundation for Ovarian Cancer Research. You needed recognition- what better way to do that than to set up something that will live on for years?"
Laura threw her arms around his neck, then backed off. "I'm sorry," she apologized, seeing his jaw set against the pain in his shoulder. "I-"
The pain subsided, easing to the dull throb that he'd gotten used to.
"It's time for another pain pill," Laura said. "I'll call the nurse," she said, reaching for the button.
But Remington grasped her arm, preventing her from reaching her target. "Damn the pain. Full speed ahead."
Laura smiled at him. "What movie is that from?" she asked.
"At the moment, Mrs. Steele, I don't care," he told her, sliding over carefully and pulling her onto the bed at his side.
"What if the nurse comes in?" Laura worried.
"She won't unless we call her. I left instructions not to be disturbed," he said, settling her carefully against him. "I've discovered that I can't sleep unless you're with me. IF they say anything, I'll just tell them that you're necessary to my recovery."
***
The next afternoon, Remington Steele left the hospital, Laura at his side. His left arm was in a sling, black, of course, so that it didn't clash with his dark suit. He announced the Scholarship Fund, and mentioned how lucky he was to have such a brilliant detective as both his partner- and his wife. If it irked him in the slightest that many of the reporters' questions seemed to be directed at Laura instead of himself, he managed to hide the fact and kept smiling. This was her moment, after all.
And she deserved it.
***