ReJoined Steele
Part One
Prologue
Prologue- 1987, Los Angeles

Remington Steele unlocked the apartment door and stepped aside to allow Laura to enter first. She had been strangely silent on the way home from work, he mused as she shrugged out of her coat. "I'm going to take a shower," she said, disappearing into the bedroom.

"I'll find something for dinner," he agreed, watching the door close behind her before continuing on to the kitchen. As he worked, he revised his earlier thought. Strangely silent wasn't strange for Laura lately. She'd been becoming more and more withdrawn over the last few months. More like the last year, he amended again. Ever since they had agreed to continue their "marriage" to fool Immigration and keep them from deporting him. No, that wasn't right. The first few months were heaven. Laura had moved in here, given up the loft, and they had, for all intents and purposes, been man and wife. Then the problems had begun, and he'd felt Laura slipping farther and farther away.

He opened a tin of something and poured it into a pan. Laura was a damn good detective. Goodness knows, he'd learned more from her in the last six years than he had expected to- but people still treated her like the secretary who married the boss. Even when he TRIED to give her full credit, he knew that she couldn't help but notice the looks that said, "Isn't that sweet? Trying to give the little woman a share in his greatness."

Perhaps he should have simply let himself be deported, Remington decided, sitting on a stool. Gotten out of her life so that she could get the recognition she deserved. Another two years of this was likely to make her so bitter and angry that salvaging their relationship would be impossible. He heard the clink of glass from the living room and peeked around the corner to find her pouring herself a drink. That was another thing that troubled him. Except for the wine at mealtimes and champagne, she usually didn't drink that much. Lately she had been drinking more. Not that anyone could notice, of course, unless they knew her well. He knew that Mildred had seen it- she had asked HIM what he'd done to cause Laura to be so unhappy.

"I haven't done anything, Mildred," he insisted. But that had been a lie. The day he had let her go through with that marriage had been the biggest mistake of Laura's life. And he was afraid that there was only one way to rectify that mistake.

He dished up the hastily prepared meal and carried it to the table. "Dinner's ready," he called out.

"I'm not very hungry," Laura mumbled from the living room window where she was standing, drink in hand. "In fact, I think I'll have an early night."

Remington froze. "Laura," he said softly as she turned toward the bedroom. She stopped, but didn't look at him. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong? Nothing," she said. "Nothing. I'm just-tired, that's all. Good night."
"Good night," he responded quietly as the door closed behind her again. Sighing, he carried the food back into the kitchen and tossed it down the disposal, then placed the dishes in the dishwasher. This couldn't continue, he decided. He wouldn't be responsible for destroying the only good thing that had happened to him. He wiped his hands, grabbed his keys, and left the apartment. He had arrangements to make- and couldn't risk Laura overhearing them.

***

Laura woke to find herself alone in the bed- hugging Remington's pillow. Sitting up, she looked around the room, finally seeing a note on the dresser. Getting out of bed, she picked it up. "Coffee and rolls are in the kitchen. Had some things to take care of," Remington had written. "Will see you at the office. Remy"

She frowned, wondering what he had gone to do. She couldn't remember his mentioning anything going on. Of course, she hadn't been paying much attention lately. There didn't seem to be any reason to. No matter what she did, she was always Mrs. Steele, Remington Steele's wife, and the secretary who married the boss and become a detective. SHE was the one who had the training, she told herself. SHE was the one that had invented Remington Steele for God's sake!

Maybe that had been her mistake. She should have fought harder to make people accept her, not hidden behind a fictitious male boss, who, when he came to life, simply took over. But he WAS Remington Steele now, she told herself as she stepped into the stinging spray of the shower. She supposed she had to live with it- for two more years, anyway. After that-, she paused, wondering what WOULD happen after that? Maybe a "divorce"? End her fake marriage the way her mother and father's had really ended?

Remington tried so hard to be nice to her. Gifts, deferring to her judgement on almost everything that came up, usually preparing gourmet feasts even after a long day chasing bad guys and glad handing difficult clients. He was so sweet, and she knew he loved her- he'd told her in so many ways other than the actual words that Laura wasn't even sure she needed him to say them anymore. And, to give him credit, he HAD tried to turn the spotlight toward her on more than one occasion, only to have it swing right back to him instead as a wonderful man who wanted his little "wife" to share in his glory, even if she WAS only a secretary. Everything the man DID only reinforced the legend that was Remington Steele. He had more luck, more charisma than anyone she'd ever met.

And weren't all of those things part of the reason that she loved him? But there had to be a way to meet in the middle. To get the credit she knew she deserved without harming HIS reputation. Maybe this evening, the two of them could sit down and talk- come up with a plan. They were always very good at that, once they got on the same wave length. Laura felt more energetic than she had in months. She finished dressing, grabbed a cup of coffee and a warm croissant, then headed out the door.

***
When Remington hadn't arrived by noon, Laura began to worry. Mildred saw her staring at the door as they discussed a just departed client who had been upset that he hadn't been able to meet with Mr. Steele in person. "Still no answer at the apartment, Mrs. Steele," Mildred told her. "And Fred said that he hadn't seen Mr. Steele all morning."

Laura nodded, turning back to her own office, only to stop as the doors opened again. She turned hopefully, but her expression fell as she saw a delivery man enter. "Can I help you?" Mildred asked.

"I'm looking for Laura Holt?" the man said.

"I'm Laura Holt Steele," Laura told him.

He held out a manila envelope, and once Laura took it, he nodded. "Have a nice day, ma'am," he wished, then left.

Laura's hands were shaking. She recognized the handwriting on the paper. "What is it, hon?" Mildred asked.

"It's from- Remington," she said, dropping it onto the desk before her as if it burned her fingers.

"Aren't you going to open it?"

Laura took a deep breath, then unfolded the clasp and opened the flap, pulling out two sets of papers. The word at the top of the first one made the blood drain from her face. "Why that-," she sputtered.

"What?" Mildred asked, at a loss as she tried to peer over Laura's arm.

"That- that LOUSE! But it's just like him! Walk out when things get too tough. Leave me hanging, trying to tie up all the lose ends!"

"Mrs. Steele, what are you talking about?" Mildred asked, worried now.

Laura shoved the paper under her nose. "It's a divorce decree! Final. I'm no longer MRS. Steele. I'm Laura Holt again."

"Oh, Mrs- Miss Holt. I'm sorry. I knew things were bad, but- surely you could have worked it out."

"He didn't give us a chance to work it out!" Laura declared.

A piece of paper slipped from the others to the floor, and Mildred bent to pick it up. "What's this?"

Laura stopped pacing to grab it from her hands. Seeing her name on the folded paper, she opened it.

 "Dear Laura,
This decision hasn't been an easy one, but it's the only one I could make to keep you from slipping farther into depression. I know you regret our decision to marry to keep me from being deported, so I've decided to end the "marriage" and deport myself. I sent word to Estelle Becker that the marriage has ended and that I've already left the country. Be expecting a call from her. I've had these divorce papers drawn up- they're as bogus as the marriage license, but at least it's something to show people that you're a free agent again. The second papers are legitimate. They assign all assets of Remington Steele Investigations to Laura Holt Investigations. It's yours again, lock, stock, and barrell, Laura. I hope you get the credit you deserve without me being there to hog the spotlight. Good luck. And remember that I'll always love you.

                                                                         Remington Steele."


Laura was torn between crying and wanting to strangle the man. She grabbed the other papers, shaking her head as she realized that he'd just given HER agency back to her. He'd tied up the lose ends. And VERY neatly. She sat down as Mildred took the papers. He was gone again. And somehow, this time, she knew he wouldn't be back- or be found as easily as he had been before. She looked at the last three words of his letter. "I love you." He'd finally put them in writing- and he was gone.

"Hon, what does all this mean?"

"He's taken Remington Steele out of the picture," Laura told her, suddenly understanding what he'd done. He'd made a final, grand gesture to her. "Left me with a clear playing field to achieve success on my own."

Mildred went to the desk, fingers hovering over her computer. "I'll start trying to track him down," she offered, but Laura rose and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"No, Mildred. I won't chase after him this time. I guess it's time for me to put my money where my mouth is and prove I'm the hotshot private investigator that I'm always saying I am." She glanced at the front doors. "Call and have the name changed on the doors," she said.

"Miss Holt, you can't just let him walk away like that," Mildred insisted.

The doors opened to admit a client. "I'm Walter Andresson," he said. "I have a one o'clock with Mr. Steele?"

Laura held out her hand. "Mr. Steele's-retired," she told him. "I'm in charge now. Laura Holt. Why don't you step into my office?" she invited, steering him toward the door to what had been Remington's office. "What seems to be the problem?"

"But- Are you a private investigator?" Walter asked nervously.

"I can assure you, Walter-I MAY call you Walter, I hope?-that I'm fully accredited and licensed. Would you please join us, Miss Krebs?"

***
Remington shook hands with the reporter and turned to board the flight as it was being called. As the plane took off, he tried to pick out the Century Plaza towers, wanting a final look at the only place he'd really felt at home in his entire life. He felt as if he'd left something down there. An important piece of himself. The stewardess approached, smiling. "Can I get you something to drink, Mr. O'Leary?"

"No, thank you. I think I'm going to catch up on some sleep," he said, ignoring the woman's inviting smile as he settled back in the seat. "Be happy, Laura," he whispered, closing his eyes.

TO BE CONTINUED---

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Original content ©1999 by Nancy Eddy