Steele In the Know3
Part 2
Remington came from his office to place a folder on Mildred's desk as Murphy entered the reception area. Since Laura and Bernice were at the seamstress for final fittings on their gowns, it was a safe bet that Murphy was NOT here to see Laura. "Good afternoon, Murphy," Remington said brightly. "At loose ends, are we?"

"Not really. I thought maybe you and I could - uh- talk?"

He'd been expecting this, Remington realized. He and Murphy had never really settled anything between them. The other man had simply informed Laura that he had decided to move to Denver and start his own agency. Of course, Remington hadn't been privy to ALL of the conversation, since Murphy had just been leaving Laura's house when he had arrived to take her dinner. "What time is Laura due back, Mildred?" Remington asked the woman who was looking a bit wary.

"Not for another hour, I'd guess, boss."

"Boss," Murphy said, shaking his head. "He's NOT the boss, Miss Krebs."

Mildred gave Murphy her best IRS glare. "Now look here, bub-," she began, but Remington placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Now, Mildred. Murphy's an old friend. And he's entitled to his opinion. Why don't we go into my office and continue this discussion, Murphy?" Remington suggested, lifting a hand toward the open door. He paused before following to whisper to Mildred, "If I'm not out in fifteen minutes, call homicide." His wink caused her to laugh at his joke. "And if Laura returns before we're done, keep her occupied."

"I'll do my best, Mr. Steele," Mildred promised. "You just be careful. I'm not sure I trust the guy."

Murphy was standing by the window that overlooked the street below when Remington entered and closed the door behind him. "The view hasn't changed much," Remington commented. "Care for a drink? Some coffee?"

"No, thank you." He turned around to look at the desk, frowning for a moment as he noted the stack of files that sat neatly on one corner. "YOU? Doing paperwork?"

"Signing reports, actually. Laura and I are planning on spending two weeks in Switzerland on our honeymoon. Lots of things to get done before we can do that."

Murphy looked at him for a moment, and Remington had a brief moment of panic as he realized that he was in his shirtsleeves, the cuffs rolled back. He felt a bit like a knight without his armor. "Laura tells me you've changed. That you're not the same con man who barged into our lives four years ago."

"I'm not. Thanks largely in part to Laura's faith in me. She made me realize that I COULD change, truly become Remington Steele."

"Remington Steele's not REAL," Murphy pointed out. "He's a figment of Laura's imagination."

"Perhaps he used to be," Remington said evenly. "But over the last four years, I've learned quite a lot, Murphy. I'm nowhere near as good a detective as Laura, but-."

"You got that right."

"But she and I have become partners in the agency. The days of Remington Steele being merely a figurehead are long since past." His eyes narrowed as Murphy turned to look at the wall of photographs over the sofa. "But this has nothing to do with the agency, does it, Murphy?"

Murphy turned to look at him, his brown eyes serious. "No, not really."

"Why don't we take off the gloves?" Remington suggested, resting against the front edge of the desk, arms folded across his chest. "Get to the heart of the matter."

"Okay. If that's what you want. I don't want to see Laura hurt again."

"Well, at least we're in agreement on that," Remington said.

"You weren't around after Wilson took off," Murphy told him. "I was."

"And helped her pick up the pieces, turned her mind back toward her career, encouraged her to be the best damn detective that anyone had ever seen," Remington finished. "Laura's told me a bit about it. She's grateful for that friendship," he said. "So am I. I mean, if you hadn't been there for her, she might never have become a private detective and invented a fictitious boss." He grinned as Murphy looked uncertain. "So in a strange way, I owe my -existence, shall we say- to you." His blue eyes were serious. "You're still dancing all around the edges of why you're really here, Murphy. I can understand your concern about Laura being hurt. I might not have been there when Wilson Jeffries bolted out of her life like a frightened rabbit, but I HAVE been here for her for the last four years. Three of them since she lost you and Bernice, AND her house practically at the same bloody time. You know, from the moment I walked in that door, my foot was caught. And there was no way I was going to leave again. Oh, I fought it. Told myself that it would never work out, that Laura and I were from two worlds that couldn't possibly be successfully merged. And I was right about that."

"You were?" Murphy asked, clearly confused by the admission.

"Yes. Before I came to Los Angeles, Murphy, I lived in a world where I didn't know where I would be the next day- what name I would be using. Constantly on the run, having to look over my shoulder. Becoming Remington Steele, someone respected- even if that respect might not have been initially deserved," Remington added as Murphy started to speak, "gave me a sense of pride in myself that I'd never really had before. Oh, I was good at what I did, but the risks involved were so great. Now, I can't imagine how I ever managed to survive in that world. So, you see, instead of trying to merge two worlds, I adapted to Laura's and left mine behind."

"Have you? Really?"

"Yes, actually. All I want now is to be Remington Steele- and Laura's husband."

"Then why is Chalmers hanging around?" Murphy asked.

"Because he's my oldest friend, someone else to whom I owe an immense amount of gratitude. He saved me as much as Laura did. Besides, Daniel's on the straight and narrow himself these days."

Murphy's surprise was obvious. "You're kidding."

"No. He's Chief of Security for the Earl of Claridge back in England. He's here on holiday for the wedding."

"You mean someone actually HIRED that guy to -?"

"He and the Earl have become good friends," Remington explained. "Daniel's spent enough time on the other side of the street that he knows how to spot trouble a mile away." Murphy shook his head. "You still haven't been totally honest about why you're here."

"I'm here for wedding," Murphy reminded him, deliberately misunderstanding. "A member of the wedding party, remember?"

"I don't mean why you're in Los Angeles. I meant HERE. Now, in this office, talking with me. You're in love with Laura, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. Have been ever since I first met her. But she's never seen me as anything more than a- big brother. I thought that might be changing when YOU came along. She was starting to open up again- just a little."

"That's why you left, wasn't it? That story about your parents needing you in Denver was just an excuse."

"You remember that case with the diamonds? Morrie Singer?"

"Ah, yes," Remington recalled with a fond smile. "Good old Morrie. He still sends us Christmas cards from Florida every year."

"Laura and I were working for the insurance people and didn't know that you were with Morrie," Murphy confirmed. "I thought that maybe her not letting you work on the case was a sign that I might have a chance. That's when you walked in and-," Murphy paused.

"Found you kissing Laura," Remington finished. "Barely remember it," he said.

"Liar. Well, it made me realize that no matter how long I stayed around, as long as you were in the picture, I didn't stand a chance. Took me a few weeks to get things worked out, but once I did- I hated leaving her like that, with no guarantee that you were gonna stay around. But there was no way in hell I could stay around and watch it happen."

"So instead of my deserting her, you took off."

"Well, when you put it like that-I guess I should have changed my plans after Bernice left, but, well- I guess Laura never told you that I went to see just before I left?"

"I knew you'd been there. She and I had a date that evening. The limo turned the corner just as your car pulled away from the curb."

"Did she- tell you what happened?" Murphy asked, and Remington wondered why he suddenly seemed so hesitant.

"No. All she told me was that you were leaving for Denver to start your own agency because your parents needed you closer to them, and then told me to drop it. She was upset, but I decided not to press the issue." Remington frowned. "Why? What happened?" he asked, standing now.

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Laura and Bernice returned to the office laughing. "At least you won't have to put up with more fittings," Laura was telling her friend.

"Can I help it that I'm blessed with a good metabolism?" Bernice asked.

"Miss Holt," Mildred said, glancing once at the closed door to Remington's office. "How did the fitting go?"

"I think my dress will be ready on time," Laura told her. "After a hundred fittings. Mrs. James couldn't believe that Bernice's dress fit perfectly the first time."

Mildred sighed in envy at the slender woman. "I can believe it. You ever been a model?" she asked Bernice.

"Never," Bernice told her. "I know, I know. No one EVER believes me when say that." She turned to Laura. "I'll call you later."

"Okay."

"Bye, Mildred," Bernice said, waving as she left.

"Is Remington in his office?" Laura asked Mildred.

Mildred grabbed a file from the desk. "I think you need to look over the Courtland Electronics file. Mr. Courtland is due any minute for a final report on his case."

Laura took the file, glancing at the papers inside. "Everything looks in order," she commented, her gaze straying back to the door of Remington's office. "What's going on, Mildred?" she asked, placing her palms on the desk.

"Uh, nothing. I just-."

Laura turned and headed toward the door. "I'll just ask him myself."

"Miss Holt," Mildred said, coming around the desk to grab Laura's arm. "I wanted to talk to you about what I'm planning to wear to the wedding-."

Laura pulled her arm away. "Mildred, I was WITH you when you bought the dress, remember? It's perfect." She did an about face.

"Am I interrupting something?" a man's voice said, and Laura sighed in frustration as she turned to face Mr. Courtland.

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Remington was in the front office at Mildred's desk when Laura and Mr. Courtland came out of her office. "Thank you, Miss Holt," he was saying. "It's more than satisfactory. Ah, Mr. Steele," the man said, shaking Remington's hand. "I want to tell you how impressed I am with your associate's thorough job on my case. Believe me, if anyone ever tells me that they need the services of a private detective, I'll point them in this direction."

"Thank you, Mr. Courtland," Remington said with a smile. "We do aim to please." He stood there as the man left the office, looking at Laura.

She turned to find him watching her, as if looking for something. "Something wrong?"

"Uh- no. Not at all. How did the fitting go?"

"Should be the last one," Laura told him, crossing her fingers. "That's IF I don't put on another ounce between now and Saturday afternoon."

"Umm. Then I suppose tempting you with one of my gourmet creations is out of the question," he said, leading her into his office.

"Depends on what kind of tempting you want to do," she told him, turning into his arms as he closed the door, sliding her arms around his neck. He returned her eager kisses with ones of his own. "Lock the door," she told him, loosening his tie to slip it from his collar and toss it aside.

"Laura?" he asked, as if he weren't certain she was REALLY his Laura. "You're not suggesting that we-," Her fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt. "Uh, Laura-."

"Are you going to tell me that you haven't thought about making love right here in this office?" she asked him with a playful smile.

"I've-thought about it, yes," he admitted. "But never during business hours- or with Mildred right outside."

"We'll swear her to secrecy," Laura murmured. "And Mr. Courtland was the last client of the day," she informed him, pulling his shirt from the waist of his trousers, then reached behind him to lock the door herself.

Remington wondered for a moment if he was ever going to get used to this new Laura. Or maybe it was just simply the OLD Laura, finally resurfacing after being submerged for so long. Over the last two weeks, he'd discovered that his cool, logical Laura was only a front for the woman Wilson Jeffries had once declared to be impulsive and "absurdly passionate". He framed her face with his hands, giving her a kiss that left her breathless before lifting her into his arms. "What shall it be?" he asked, smiling down at her. "The couch -or the desk?"

Laura nuzzled his ear. "Why don't we start with the desk?" she whispered, her breath on the sensitive skin of his ear sending shivers of passion through his body . . .

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Buttoning his shirt, Remington watched in the bathroom mirror as Laura tried to do something with her hair. Smiling, he slipped his arms around her from behind. "Guess the couch will just have to wait, eh?"

Laura stopped fussing and looked up at him. "Gives us something to look forward to," she said, drawing his head down to hers. "On second thought-," she said, turning back into his arms to deepen the kiss. A knock on the door brought them apart. "Mildred," she muttered.

"Umm. You stay here, finish making yourself presentable. I'll see what she wants."

Quickly tucking his shirt tails in, Remington went to the door and opened it just enough to see the portly woman. "Yes, Mildred?"

Her embarrassed grin told him that she'd known exactly what had been happening, and Remington actually felt his cheeks reddening under that gaze. "Just wanted to let you kids know that I'm leaving. We're closing at noon tomorrow, right?" she asked.

"That's the plan. You're sure you don't want to take some time off yourself? Visit your sister, perhaps?"

"Nah, I'll just stay here and hold down the fort. Bye!"

"Enjoy your evening," Remington said.

"I intend to," she replied, sailing through the doors as Laura joined Remington.

"She certainly seems happy."

He nodded thoughtfully. "She's having dinner with Daniel."

Laura's head lifted, her eyes growing wide with surprise. "Mildred and - DANIEL?"

Remington grinned. "Boggles the mind, doesn't it?" He pulled her into his arms. "Ready to go?" he asked.

"Hmm," sje said, looking at the doors.

"Let me get my jacket," he told her as he went back into his office. When he returned, she was still looking at the door. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm just having trouble picturing Mildred on a date with Daniel, that's all."

"Hmm. I had the same problem myself," he admitted, steering her through the doors, then locking them.

"I really need to stop by the loft," she told him. "Pick up a few things." she said with a smile as they entered the elevator which, to Laura's frustration, held three other people. Her hold on his arms loosened, as she put a professional distance between them. "Why don't I take the Rabbit and meet you there?"

He nodded in agreement, understanding-but not altogether liking- her desire to be decorous in public, as they entered the underground garage and he walked her to where the white car was parked, then went to the limo, where Fred was waiting. "Home, Mr. Steele?" he asked.

"Home, Fred," he agreed, watching as Laura turned the Rabbit toward the exit and accelerated away. He sat back, trying to discern the best way for him to broach the issue of what had happened between Laura and Murphy just before he'd left for Denver. And, more importantly, why she had never told HIM about it.

To Be Continued. . .
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Original content © 1999 by Nancy Eddy