Note: This is an "Add-on" to "Red Holt Steele", almost EVERYONE'S favorite episode. Ever wonder if Laura thanked Mr. Steele for his gift? Here's my version of how that might have gone. I don't own these characters, I've just borrowed them, and am making no money fro this story. Enjoy!- Nancy

pianoshadow.gifSteele in "E Minor" pianoshadow.gif
To hear a MIDI of Fr. Chopin's "Prelude In E Minor"
click HERE

Remington Steele entered the offices and smiled at Mildred. "Good morning, Mildred." He hadn't slept well, worrying about Laura alone in that loft - wondering what her reaction to the little surprise he had arranged for her had been.

Mildred Krebbs handed him some message slips. "Good morning, Mr. Steele," she said brightly, that adoring smile on her face that he was coming to expect.

"Is Miss Holt in?"

"She was here when I arrived this morning," Mildred confided. "I've never seen someone so dedicated as Miss Holt, Boss. She's simply amazing."

"Umm, yes, she is." He turned toward is office.

"Oh, and she said she wanted to see you when you got here." She rose and went to the coffee alcove. "I'll have your coffee ready in a sec."

"Thanks, Mildred." He continued on toward his office, leaving the woman to sigh deeply after him.

Mildred wondered where all the men like her boss had been when she'd been about twenty years younger. Nowhere she had been able to find, she decided.

**********

Steele entered the office, intending to knock on the connecting door between his and Laura's office. But it wasn't necessary. She was already there, sitting at his desk, a slip of paper in her hand. "Good morning, Laura," he said, smiling.

Laura didn't return his smile. "I've been wondering when you were going to decide to show up," she said.

"Well, not all of us can be as dedicated as you are," Steele reminded her.

"I needed to check some things this morning." She rose, the paper still in hand. "I found something very interesting."

"Oh?" Steele asked, now on his guard, but totally lost. What was she going on about now? "About a case?"

"No. It concerns certain- expenditures by persons in this agency. LARGE expenditures."

Steele cast his thoughts out, trying to recall anything he'd purchased of late that would garner this reaction. He'd been behaving himself- trying to remember not to overspend- the only thing he'd bought had been - "

Laura held out the paper. "Such as buying a grand piano. Using the agency's money-"

"Laura, I fully intend to repay that money - I just thought- "

"You thought you could buy my affections by replacing the piano that my grandmother left me," Laura accused.

"Not at all," Steele insisted, ignoring the little voice inside that called him a liar. "That wasn't my reason at all, Laura. I knew how much that piano meant to you, and when I saw the way you looked at it that morning before you went tearing off to see R.J, I thought it would be a nice gesture. Laura, if I'd intended it as more, don't you think I would have found a way to be there when you saw it last night? Instead, I bowed to your feelings and let you go down there alone - "

Laura glanced at the receipt again. "That's an awful lot of money, Mr. Steele. I thought we agreed to *discuss* any large expenditures. It was irresponsible-"

"Perhaps it was. But I-"

"And absolutely the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me," she finished in a softer tone, a smile finally appearing on her face.

Steele realized she'd been playing one of her little games, only pretending to be angry, and he smiled in relief. "Then- you like the piano?"

Laura slid her arms around him. "Very much, Mr. Steele. And I've been trying to think of a way I can properly thank you."

"Laura. I don't expect any -" he paused as he saw her knowing expression. "Well, perhaps a *little* gratitude would be nice."

"I think I can do better than a *little*," Laura said, lifting her lips to his.

Steele was surprised at her sudden aggressiveness, but he recovered quickly to pull her closer to him, to lengthen the kiss. "You're very welcome," he said as he lifted his head.

"Oh, it's not over yet, Mr. Steele," Laura assured him. "I have something else in mind."

"Really?"

"I can't promise you a gourmet feast, but I might be able to manage something if you want to come to my place for dinner this evening -"

"Dinner? At the loft? I didn't think there was a kitchen up there yet-"

"There's not. But I'll manage."

"What time shall I be there?"

"Seven?" Laura suggested.

"Seven it is, then," he told her, lowering his head again to touch her soft lips as there was a tap on the door. "Mildred," he said, sighing.

Laura drew away from him. "Come in, Mildred," she called, moving across the room toward her door. "I have some paperwork to do," she said. Steele returned her smile as Mildred entered with is coffee. He was looking forward to this evening.

**********

He climbed the stairs to Laura's loft, pausing at the top to steady his breathing. Leave it to Laura to move into an obstacle course that would require physical effort just to see her, he thought grimly. He really was going to have to find some way to convince her to move out here. The idea of someone actually *wanting* to live in an abandoned warehouse was unfathomable to him. He grasped the bottle of wine and the roses he'd brought tightly and approached the sliding metal door. The least they could do, he thought as he knocked, was put a proper door in.

The door slid to the left, and all his frustration about the building fled as he looked at Laura. She smiled at him, stepping aside for him to enter. "I was afraid you were going to be late," she told him.

"Had to stop on those bloody stairs to catch my breath," he told her, holding out the wine and flowers. "For you."

Laura took the items, smelling the roses deeply. "Thank you." She turned as he closed the door behind him, putting the wine on the table set up in the center of the room. She lit the candle on the table, looking up in time to see his frown as he surveyed the still bare room. "You have to use your imagination, Mr. Steele," she insisted.

"My imagination," Steele mused, moving his gaze from the table where their meal waited to the piano, to the bare, brick walls, the out of place white of the added on bathroom walls. "I'm trying, Laura, but-"

She smiled, and his attention was caught by something in her eyes. She was nervous. *Laura?* he wondered. *Nervous?* "Dinner's ready," she told him, indicating the table. "I had to order in," she apologized. "I can't really start working on this place until the insurance pays on my house," she said. "So until I can get the kitchen installed, it looks like I'm going to be doing a lot of eating out."

He pulled out her chair. "I'm sure it will be fine, Laura," he assured her. As she watched, he opened the wine and poured two glasses. "Now. What shall we drink to?"

She smiled again. "How about- possibilities?" she suggested.

Steele smiled, touching his glass to hers. "To possibilities," he agreed. After taking a drink, he lifted the cover from his plate. Certainly *looked* edible, he decided. Aware that Laura was watching him closely, he picked up his fork and took a bite. "It's surprisingly good."

"It should be. I ordered it from Che Rive," she told him. "I asked Claude what you usually ordered and asked him to send it over."

"I'll have to remember to thank him," Steele said. "But you didn't have to go to this much trouble," he told her.

"I wanted to order something I knew you'd like," she said, taking a drink of wine.

"Laura-"

"I think Mildred's going to work out, don't you? Of course, you *do* need to have that little talk with her, tell her who's *really* in charge around the office. If she passes over me one more time to get to you - I'm just liable to tell her myself."

Steele nodded. "I'll talk to her the first chance I get, Laura," he assured her, picking up his glass.

"Tell me more about Marcos," she said.

**********

After dinner, Steele found himself surveying the dreary surroundings once again. "I'm sorry, Laura. I *still* can't see the *possibilities* in this place. It's a warehouse. It's always going to *be* a warehouse, no matter how many coats of paint you slap on the walls."

Laura rose, wineglass in hand. "Come on, Mr. Steele," she said. "I'll give you the grand tour of the place- and tell you what I have in mind to make it more livable." He followed her to the nearest wall, where she stopped. "I'll put the kitchen here, underneath the windows. An island cabinet will go here, separating it from the rest of the room. I'll paint the walls white to brighten the place up-"

He indicated the piece of machinery that still stood nearby. "What about *that*?" he asked, recalling that she had told the woman who had showed them the room to "leave it."

Laura considered it. "I haven't decided yet." She moved toward the raised platform at the rear of the room, climbing the bare steps. "I'll put in a circular, wrought iron stair here," she told him, then pointed upward. "And a rod to hang a curtain on to give the bedroom some privacy from the main room." She noticed his glance toward the new mattress and box springs that lay on the floor nearby. "The bed will be arriving tomorrow," she told him quickly. "There's a small alcove over there that I think can be converted to a closet."

Steele looked at her, concerned by her rapid fire delivery. "Laura-"

She pointed back downstairs, ignoring him. "And the bath is really bigger than it looks-"

"Laura," Steele said again, in that soft voice. "What's wrong?"

She looked down at her hands, then up at him. "Wrong? I don't know *what* you're talking about- I-"

Steele placed his hands on her shoulders, gently kneading the knots from her muscles. "you're wound up tighter than a drum," he pointed out. "And you're talking *far* more than normal."

Laura's hands slid up his chest to link around his neck, bringing his head down to hers for a long kiss. She didn't want to talk. She wanted to get this over with.

He could feel the tension in her, the uncertainty. He could almost taste her fear on her lips. Steele knew without a doubt that he could overcome that fear, soften her into willing submission- but the cost would be too high. He'd refused her offer the night before - he couldn't take it now, either.

So he lifted his head to look into those dark eyes. "Why are you doing this, Laura?" he asked gently.

"I thought the entire point of the evening, Mr. Steele, was to thank you for the piano," she reminded him.

When she would have pulled his head back down, Steele remained unmoving, his eyes on hers. "I don't want *this* in gratitude, Laura." She looked confused.

"But I thought that was why you-"

"Maybe it was," he admitted. "But it wasn't the *only* reason." Touching her face with the back of his hand, he smiled. "I don't want you to do anything that you don't *want* to do, Laura. When you and I finally *do* cross that line, I want it to be because it's what you *want* to do - not simply because you're greatful to me for gift -"

"But-" Her gaze was now focused on the white of his shirt. It was *more* than the gift, she wanted to tell him.

He shook his head. "It'll happen, Laura," he assured her. He lifted her face with a finger. "When the time is right. And when *you're* ready. I'm not planning on going anywhere." He saw the doubt about that statement in her eyes and his smile was crooked, his blue eyes filled with sincerity and humor. "Of course, that doesn't mean that I'm giving up the chase-"

Laura smiled, and she visibly sagged as the realization that she wasn't going to *have* to sleep with him tonight sank in. Her arms remained on his shoulders as she looked up at him, her expression playful. "How do you suggest that I thank you, then?"

Steele slid his hands to hers, lifting them both to his lips. "Why not show me how well you can play my gift?"

"I'm not very good-" she insisted.

"Nonsense. I'm sure you're *very* good," he told her, his meaning deliberately double edged as he turned her toward the stairs and the piano.

Laura sat down, fingers poised over the ivory and white keys. "Don't say I didn't warn you, Mr. Steele."

He refilled his glass, then sat down at the table. "I'll take my chances, Miss Holt."

"Mother used to have to threaten to tie me to the piano for my lessons-"

"Are you going to play?" he asked. "Or keep making excuses?"

Laura sighed, realizing that she wasn't going to get out of this. "Any requests?"

Steele cast his mind back to the night before. "Something by Chopin?" he suggested. Laura's eyes narrowed. Maybe he'd gone too far.

"Chopin? You *were* here last night," she accused.

He considered denying it, but realized she could ask Fred - "Yes. I had Fred drive me down to make certain you got here safely. And I - heard you playing as I left. I *am* right, aren't I? It *was* Chopin?"

She nodded. "Chopin's Prelude in E Minor," she confirmed, then took a deep breath. "You only followed me to make sure I was safe?" she asked.

"I give you my word. After the last couple of days, -"

Laura looked down at her hands, thinking that it was rather nice to have someone who cared what happened to her, but to admit that to this man would be a tactical error that she could little afford. One he knew that, he would use it against her, and she would end up right where she'd been she'd been with Wilson. And there was *no* way she ever wanted to go through that again. He had said he wasn't planning on going anywhere. Well, they'd see about that. She placed her hands on the keys, then began to play . . .

Steele sat back, letting the music wash over him, watching her face as she played. He'd never met anyone like her, he reminded himself. And he never would.

He'd told her that he wasn't planning on going anywhere. And he'd meant it. The man who never stayed any one place more than a few months was content to stay here, with Laura. Content to wait. He'd never been willing to do that before. Never let things proceed at their own pace instead of forcing the issue. But Laura - Laura was worth waiting for.

Now, the only thing he had to do was to convince her that he meant what he'd said about being here for her. She'd lost so much in the last few weeks: Bernice Fox, Murphy, her house and everything she owned. Well, she wasn't going to lose him. No matter how hard she tried to push him away.

She was still a challenge. And Laura Holt, of all people *knew* how he felt about challenges.

HOME || CASEBOOK || E-MAIL