Steele Conquers All
by Ilsa Lund

Part One

Summary: This is my seventh piece of RS Fiction: a Mr and Mrs Steele story.
*Americans may notice odd words/terms (e.g. grey rather than gray) I'm English and that's how we Brits spell!
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only. I am not attempting to make a single penny or profit from this. I do not own the rights to any of the characters from the television series "Remington Steele."
Rating: NC17 for adult content and sexual innuendo.
Feedback: All comments appreciated.

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Private investigator Laura Steele smiled as she entered the modest motel room and shut the door behind her.

Turning around to face the athletic, tall, blond man, she seductively whispered a greeting. "Hey lover."

He grinned and loosened his tie. "Married women. They're the best kind. They give you action and don't ask for anything more afterwards. None of that `do you love me?' shit single women bellyache about all the time."

She casually slipped off her shoes, walked languidly towards him and pulled
the tie from his neck, dropping it to the floor. "You don't beat about the bush. I like that."

"Blame it on my surname. Hudson. The `Hud' part don't rhyme with `stud' for nothing baby."

"This is a first for me Steve. I've never done anything like this before."

"Yeah? How long did you book this room for?"

"Two hours."

"Well don't worry. The room's paid for, we've got two hours and you're gonna learn to love it." He reached for her hand and pulled her onto the bed, rolling on top of her.

Laura hesitated. "If my husband ever found out about this, he'd kill us both."

"Well. I won't tell if you won't tell," he murmured stroking her face.

She smiled in response. "I don't kiss and tell."

"Oh yeah baby. I like the sound of that," he whispered and bent his head.

After a couple of minutes, Laura broke the silence. "Errm Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you stop that please? I don't like my earlobes nibbled."

He met her eyes. "What do you like?"

"Not that."

"Well do you like kissing?" he asked unbuttoning her blouse from the waist upwards.

Laura shrugged. "That could work."

He parted her clothing further. "Black lace bra. Beautiful. You look beautiful baby."

The sound of her even breathing focussed his attention on her chest. "Would you like me to stroke you?"

She gestured insouciantly. "That could work."

"Oh Laura, you've got great tits: perky and firm. I bet they'd make a great mouthful. I can't wait to taste you. I bet you taste real good baby. I can't wait to take your bra off and see them in the flesh. Do you want to make "

Occupied, he didn't hear a key in the lock. The door burst open and the tall, dark-haired, immaculately dressed male made a beeline for the man he saw on top of the woman. Hauling the guy off the bed, he slammed him against a wall.

"That's my wife you're pawing, you blackmailing, bloody bugger!"

Laura jumped off the bed and tried to prise her incensed husband away from the shocked man.

"Mr Steele stop that! Let him go!" she cried, jerking his jacket.

"Steele? That's your wife? She told me her name was Laura Pearson."
Realisation slowly dawned. He pointed accusingly. "Steele you're Remington Steele? This is a set up!"

"Remington Steele? You're wrong, he's not Remington Steele! He's " Laura desperately tried to cover.

"I've seen his picture in the paper. It was in the Tribune last week. This is a set up!"

Spurred into action, the agitated man stomped on the foot of his furious assailant. The discomfort caused Steele to momentarily loosen his grasp. He felt himself being pushed firmly, momentum swaying him backward onto his wife. Seizing his opportunity, Steve Hudson fled the motel.

"He's getting away! After him Mr Steele!" Laura yelled.

Running out of the room, he desperately looked in every direction but there was no sight of their quarry. He'd disappeared into thin air.

"Damn, damn, damn!" Steele swore before turning back to face the music.

"Did you " Laura started to ask until she spotted her husband's countenance.

"He got away, clean away. There was no trace of him. I searched high "

"Two weeks playing a bloody typist for nothing! What the hell were you thinking Mr Steele!" she exclaimed reaching for her shirt and yanking it on.

"That - that filth had his hands all over you!" he bellowed.

"This is no time for your petty jealousy!" Laura shouted back.

"Jealousy? You're my wife, remember?"

"Of course I remember. I married you for the third time last Saturday!" Indignant, she placed her hands on her hips.

"That's right. You married me. Me, Laura."

"I don't believe you! You think I enjoyed that? You think I enjoyed being half naked with another man?"

Steele refused to back down. "You may not have enjoyed it but he certainly did."

"We're on a case, it's business!" she slapped her thighs in exasperation.

"Oh so it's business is it? He's mauling you and it's business?"

"Yes it is! You're supposed to use that surveillance equipment to trap him and his accomplice not spy on me!" Laura snapped straightening her clothes.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about, eh? I wasn't spying, I was a
reluctant witness to his lust for you!"

"I'm undercover trying to trap a loathsome blackmailer and you're behaving like a caveman!"

"Cavemen?" Steele repeated in stupefaction. "Since when has protecting your wife from a Neanderthal pervert qualified as misogyny?"

She pointed at him and seethed. "When you lost your focus, that's when! Well I'm not getting us out of this one, not this time! You can do the explaining. You can tell our client that we've blown the case because you don't know the difference between what is business and what is personal!"

"I don't know the difference?" he echoed between gritted teeth. "You expect me to happily listen to another man wax lyrical about your breasts the taste of them, the feel of them and what he wants to do with them? Those sentiments are copyrighted Mrs Steele and you're married to the sole holder."

"You're being ridiculous!"

"Any man worth his salt would've reacted the way I did Laura."

She crossed her arms. "You should've reacted once we'd trapped them, once we had solid, irrefutable evidence on tape. Right now all we've got is your misplaced male ego!"

"Misplaced ego?" he cried gesturing at her chest. "Those are our breasts!"

"What do you mean ours? They're on my body!" Laura stared at him, incredulous.

"Share and share alike Mrs Steele. What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine ergo those are our breasts."

His line of reasoning threw her. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

"And I'm not sitting twiddling my thumbs while some bloody bugger attempts to grope them business or not."

She found her voice. "It's the third case in a row Mr Steele. The third case in a row that you've jeopardised like this. What's going on?"

"I don't follow."

"I think you do and I think "

Steele was resolutely silent. What could he say? How could he articulate his recent behaviour when he barely understood it himself? He knew she could rely on her wits, he knew she could take care of herself, he knew she was better equipped than most women to handle perilous situations. He knew all that but it made no difference. He still felt an overwhelming urge to cosset her, to protect her. It had strengthened since their marriage. The past was indeed a foreign country.

`The past is a foreign country, they do things differently there.' Who said that? George Bernard Shaw? No, not him. Hartley, that was it. Ah yes LP Hartley's `The Go-Between.' Classic literature adapted for the screen by MGM/EMI in 1971. Harold Pinter wrote the screenplay and the film starred Julie Christie and Alan Bates - the English class system, the Norfolk countryside, love among the ruins, a shocking indictment of love among the ruins. That's a movie too. `Love Among The Ruins,' Katherine Hepburn, Laurence Olivier. George Cukor's last really impressive film made in 1975 with a

Steele shook himself out of his reverie. She was still talking. Damn. He'd missed chunks of her rambling.

" so you have to learn to do that. Let's not forget that in the past, your zeal nearly ruined countless cases "

"Laura that's "

"An over-eagerness to find George Kaplan, wanting revenge for your friend Wallace, concern for Veronica Kirk's safety. But you were trying too hard, that's all. Years later, you ruin our case because you decide someone else was trying too hard with our br with my breasts despite the fact that he didn't get anywhere near them!"

"Oh? He got near enough and that's too near Mrs Steele."

"I don't believe this, you're no better than him!"

"What are you talking about? I'm your husband!" he roared at her.

She slipped on her shoes, coolly regarding him. "Yes you are but today I needed my partner. You let your emotions cloud your judgement and where's it got us?"

"Laura, kissing in the line of duty is one thing but breast fondling or worse is quite another."

"Why didn't you trust me not to let that happen? Not to let it get that far? Might I remind you that in Cannes I kept Freddy wha'cha-ma-call-it occupied "

"Smith," he supplied automatically.

"Who?"

"Freddy Smith. The South African playboy you rolled around with? On the bed? Entangled arms and legs? Flaming libidos? Moans and groans heard in London? The Earth moving?"

"What's your point Mr Steele?"

"My point? About your frolic with that pompous carouser? Barely noticed it."

Laura pulled the brush agitatedly through her hair. "I kept Freddy Smith occupied while you retrieved the Hapsburg dagger and nothing happened. I can handle creeps like Steve Hudson." She returned to her grooming in disgust.

Something in Steele snapped. "You and your bloody equality issues! Just once Laura, just once I'd like to assume the traditional role and simply be thanked for it instead of having to endure you throwing your capabilities back at me."

Annoyed, her hands flew to her hips. "I'm sorry if my independence irritates you. I guess I'll just have to learn to be as clingy as some of your old girlfriends!"

"It's no wonder my masculinity irks you so much. Some of your old dates were archetypal what do you American's call it? ah yes, nerds!" he dug his hands deeply into his pockets.

"Really? Well at least my old dates could spell `nerds!' "

"Indeed? Well at least my old girlfriends could pump their own gas!"

"What a novelty that must have been for them, standing vertically instead of lying on their backs!" Laura turned her nose in the air.

"And what a novelty lying down must have been for your nerds. I'll wager the shock caused blood to rush to their heads instead of their loins!"

They glared at each other.

Finally Laura took a deep breath and spoke. "This is getting us nowhere. Let's return to the matter at hand. The fact remains that you've blown our cover, Steve Hudson knows who I am now so we've got to figure out another angle for this case. And this afternoon you're updating our client on our progress, or lack of it."

"Fine," he huffed.

"There's work to be done so we'll call a truce for the sake of our business. I'm going back to the office alone and when we get home, I'm sleeping on the couch. Hell will freeze over before I get in that bed with you tonight!" She grabbed her purse and stormed out of the motel, slamming the door firmly behind her.

He sighed and sat down, head in hands. After a couple of minutes, he reached for the telephone.

"Mildred? Steele here - A friendly warning. Hurricane Laura's back in town. Take cover, lie low and beg the heavens it blows itself out before causing extensive damage - No we didn't have a fight! - We didn't have a fight - Okay, okay, we had a fight - No it wasn't my fault - It wasn't my fault! - Correction, Mrs Steele is on the couch - Really Mildred, she's on the couch - Honestly, she volunteered - Mildred, why are we arguing about this? - I'll be back shortly. Pray for me, eh?"

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Steele cautiously opened the suite doors, eyes searching as he entered the reception area.

"She's in her office." Mildred announced without bothering to look up from her typing.

"Ah, thank you. I knew " He began to say but was interrupted by the phone.

"Remington Steele Investigations - Yes that's right - Me? I'm Mildred Krebs, the first and last line to the Steele's. What can we do for you? - Who? - You want him to do what? - I'm sorry kiddo, you tell your boss to tell his boss to tell his boss to tell Mr Spelling that Mr Steele is a serious detective. He doesn't do commercials, he doesn't do endorsements and he certainly doesn't do cameos in soaps. Try that other lot across the street. No class, they'll do it for food - Good day to you too."

"What was that all about?"

"Mrs Steele took a call from these TV guys last week. They want to write you into one of their soaps, a cameo appearance but . . ."

"TV? Me? Oh, and Mrs Steele of course. Call London, Henry Poole & Co, Savile Row. They're the best and this calls for an extra special bespoke business suit with a lining of . . ."

"Chief, Mrs Steele told me to tell them to beat it. Well not in those exact words but she said it would cheapen our image and that you weren't doing it. Sorry."

"Mildred, next time they call, put them through to me. It doesn't hurt to keep our options open."

"But Mrs Steele said . . ."

"Yes I'm aware of that Mildred but the boss has spoken." He smiled at her then strode towards his office.

Mildred tapped her fingers, shook her head and resumed her typing. The telephone proved a welcome distraction.

"Remington Steele investigations? - Hazel, boy am I glad you called - Are we bowling tonight? What kind of a question is that? It's Friday isn't it? I always bowl on Friday night - Listen, this is an emergency you gotta tell me what happened in `The Blondes and The Brunettes' yesterday - Really? - Doctor Smith is still in a coma? - I also missed Fallonia telling him that she loves him? - Awww! Four years of waiting and she does it on the day my VCR goes belly up - She's also sleeping with who? - No! Lex Lexington's alive? - How? I thought he died in the last - The doctors discovered that he's cryophilic and can thrive in low temperatures? - So he didn't freeze to death on that iceberg in Nunavut? - He did what? - Hazel I gotta hang up, buzzer's going. I'll call you back for the rest in a minute."

After grabbing her pen and pad, she pressed down the button on the intercom. "Yes?"

"Mildred, could you come in here for a moment please?"

"Sure thing boss." As she stood up it buzzed again, "Yes?"

"Mildred, can I see you for a minute please?"

"Okay boss but I've just been told to . . ."

"Really? Never mind that, come and see me first."

Her eyes narrowed as the damn thing went off again, "Yes?"

"Mildred, I've just . . ."

"I'm coming but the boss just buzzed and . . ."

"Who buzzed first?"

"You did but "

"Well, That's settled. See me first."

She took a deep breath and started to move away but "Yes?"

"Mildred? You are seeing me first, aren't you?"

"But I've just been told to . . ."

"Don't worry about that order. This is the one that counts."

When it went off again, she slapped her pad on the desk and exclaimed, "That tears it!"

Marching into one office, she wiggled her finger at the person seated behind the desk then opened the connecting door and repeated her summons. Ignoring the confused expressions, she guided them into the reception area, crossed her arms and sternly glanced from one to the other.

"Sit," she insisted pointing at the couch.

The Steele's shrugged their shoulders in bewilderment before speaking at the same time.

"Mildred this is "

"Mildred we've got . . ."

"Sit!" Her tone was unmistakably firm. Quietly, they did as they were told.

The ruthlessly efficient secretary-cum-receptionist-cum mother figure paced before them. "Don't take this the wrong way " she began after a few seconds, ". . . because no one is happier than me that you're both finally married and . . . "

"Thank you but "

"We appreciate that however "

"What is this? A free-for-all? I don't remember giving either of you permission to speak."

Stopped in their tracks, the Steele's demeanour changed to suitably meek. After deeming contrition appropriate, Mildred went on with her lecture.

"No one is happier than me that you're married. I knew the minute I walked in here that you were a match. Why it took you two so long to see it is beyond me. There were days when I just wanted to yell, `wake up and smell the coffee!' The dance you two did around each other? Talk about the do-si-do! You'd have wiped the floor with Fred and Ginger."

"Yes but we have "

"Fred and Ginger, eh? That's "

"Put a sock in it kids." Mildred figuratively rolled up her sleeves. "I'm just getting started."

The Steele's sank further into the couch.

"That's better. Now I got a question for you both." She moved her hands to her hips. "Do you see any strings on me?"

"Strings? What " Laura stammered.

Steele was just as baffled, "I'm sorry?"

"Answer the question. Are there any strings on me?"

"No," they simultaneously responded.

"Right, that's because there are none. Don't yank me around kids, I'm not a puppet and this ain't Sesame Street. I know you two and I know a power play when I see one and if you put me in the middle of it, you'll both lose. Now get in that office and sort this thing out. Don't make me bang your heads together."

The Steele's remained where they were, rooted to the spot through a combination of embarrassment and chagrin.

"Well whaddaya still sitting there for? You've got work to do and I've got a report to type!"

Slowly they rose from the couch, shuffling past the former IRS operative to their respective offices. Somewhere in the middle, they turned to each other asking a silent question.

After a minute, Laura slapped her thighs, marched past Steele and opened his door. Meekly, he trailed after her.

Mildred watched like a hawk chuckling indulgently before reaching for the telephone. "Okay Hazel. Take your time and tell me what happened after Lex Lexington's evil twin appeared at the hospital - He did what? You're kidding!"

TO PART TWO
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