Nerves of Steele, Will of Iron and Dreams of Gold
 
by SteeleChic 1999
Author's note - I have taken many liberties with this story but as it is a work of fiction, poetic license and all that jazz, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I have probably borrowed ideas from other sources and if this applies to you I am very, very sorry but it was unintentional, let's just say your work had an impact on me, OK? One place I know I borrowed an idea from is Party of Five, I won't tell you how, that would spoil it, but I figured since I'm borrowing the characters of Laura Holt and Remington Steele anyway, does it really matter that much? Without giving too much away, this story takes place some time after Remington and Laura get married and part of it is a rewrite of "Bonds of Steele"(kind of). I think we can also safely say that you should assume the unfortunate fifth season never happened. Apart from all that, (finally I hear you say), I have no medical knowledge of any kind so please forgive any transgressions on that score, you'll know what I mean when you get there. Thanks and Enjoy!
SteeleChic. :o)

Laura Holt - Steele slid out from under her husbands arm and out of the bed, slipping her arms into a white silk robe as she headed for the kitchen. She filled a glass with water and rummaged, as quietly as possible, for some bicarbonate of soda. Her stomach was feeling unsettled, no doubt due to the somewhat strenuous, ah, exercise, she and Remington had engaged in too soon after one of his gourmet feasts.

Swallowing the last of the fizzing mixture she smoothed a hand over her well rounded abdomen and shook her head with a rueful smile at the thought that, although 6 and a half months pregnant, her husband still wanted her just as much as he always had. And he was spoiling her. She had noticed she'd gained more weight than usual this month but being naturally small in stature she was still comparatively tiny to an observer.

"Laura," came Remington's sleepy voice from the doorway, filled with concern, "Is anything the matter?"

"No, it's nothing, I'm sorry if I woke you," she assured him softly as he crossed the kitchen to join her. His arms encircled her ever expanding waist, one hand moving to cover hers where it rested protectively over their baby.

"How's bub?" he asked her, before sweeping aside her thick chestnut hair and trailing kisses along her neck.

"Ready to play," Laura answered on a laugh as the baby kicked its greeting.

"And what about Mommy?" Remington asked playfully.

"Again?" Laura teased, "And with me looking like the Goodyear Blimp, too."

"I've told you before, I'll never stop wanting you, Laura," he told her, with a raw honesty that came so easily to him now, "You've never looked more beautiful, especially here in the moonlight, all dressed in white, you look like an angel."

"A fat angel," Laura corrected.

"Never!" Remington told her, sweeping her easily into his arms to prove his point.

Depositing her gently on the bed and settling down beside her he continued, "You always were a skinny little thing, but I love all your new curves," he told her appreciatively.

"I'll bet you do," Laura teased again, under her breath, well aware of exactly which curves he was referring to.

"What darling?" Remington murmured, drawing her back against his chest.

"I love you," Laura sighed, breathing in his scent, remembering it hadn't always been so easy to say those words.

"I love you too," he replied softly, his warm palm moving in soothing circles over her unsettled stomach as they drifted back into sleep.

************************

Some time later Laura sat bolt upright in bed, unsure what exactly had woken her, but in a great deal of discomfort. Her hands flew automatically to her stomach as she breathed deeply for a minute.

Startled, Remington jolted into a sitting position, one hand immediately curving around his wife's back, the other joining hers as she cradled their baby.

"Laura, honey, what is it?" he asked, his voice deep with concern, his eyes searching her pale face, her dark hair made even darker by the white of her night dress.

"I don't know," she murmured, her brow furrowed in confusion, a look Remington had come to know well, "It's probably nothing, I -" suddenly she felt it again, the foreign cramping that had wrested her from sleep.

"Noooo," a strangled whisper passed her lips as her chocolate eyes widened into stricken pools, dropping fearfully to where their hands were joined.

"Laura, my God! Are you alright?" he asked frantically.

"No," she moaned again, "It's too soon." Her hands gripped his and her eyes flew to his in horror, "It's too soon!"
The meaning of her words hit Remington like a slap in the face. He didn't remember how he ended up with clothes on but suddenly he was pressing a kiss to his wife's forehead as he lifted her easily into his arms.

"OK," he told her softly, "Sshh, Laura, it's OK, I'm getting you to the hospital - now!"
********************

Laura gripped Remington's hand tightly, the only outward sign of the fear that just as tightly gripped her heart. Both of them sat with eyes riveted to the fetal monitor Laura was now hooked up to as they listened to the rhythmic thud of their baby's heart beat, steady and strong.

The contractions had long since stopped, and she had no doubt that's what they had been, even though the doctor had yet to return with the results of the barrage of tests they had run on her.

Hovering over her, Remington swept a stray hair away from Laura's face, "It's my fault," he murmured, "We shouldn't have... I mean, did I...?"

"No!" Laura cried, both hands coming up to frame his face, forcing him to look her in the eye, "No," she repeated softly, "It's not your fault, the doctor said that it was OK for a little while longer, we did nothing wrong. Besides," she paused, with a cheeky grin, "It takes two to tango, remember?"

But the sight of her dimples did little to dissuade Remington, "If anything happens to this baby..." he trailed off.

"Sshh," Laura whispered, bringing her lips to his. Sighing deeply, he relaxed under the soothing pressure of her mouth, only to be interrupted by the doctor entering the room.

"Dare we expect any less?" he asked her softly, grinning in spite of himself.

"Of course not," she returned, much to the doctor's confusion.

"Dr. Barnett, what happened, what's wrong?" Remington questioned, no sign of his earlier fear present in his voice.

Dr. Barnett's face was grave as she glanced at the results in her hand before answering.

To Be Continued...
Home Casebook Email Next