This Story is Steele
Untitled
by LoveSteele
jumpedoff@yahoo.com
Notes are at the end.
(Disclaimer: I don't
own the characters. Don't sue me. Don't flame me.
Just be happy and read. No, that doesn't include stealing
my work as yours :o)
June 24, 1986
It was bound to happen sooner
or later. He would get tired of her brushing
off his advances and seek what he needed in the arms of another
woman.
June twenty-first was the day Laura Holt would remember in infamy.
It was
the day she had walked in on Remington Steele having sex with
a twenty
something bimbo he had probably picked up from a bar in Santa
Monica.
Fake breasts, bleached hair and long fingernails were all she
remembered
when she thought of the woman. Heck, at least she hadn't been
a hooker....
had she?
June 21, 1986
Laura glanced at her watch
for the millionth time that morning. Remington
was late. Not that him being late is anything out of
the ordinary, she thought.
However, this morning he had promised to be there to meet with
a new client.
Mr. Johanssen was big money and wanted them to investigate the
death of his
best friend and former partner. The case had the potential
to set them up
financially for a long time to come.
"I'm going over to
Mr. Steele's, Mildred," Laura announced as she grabbed her
purse and hat. "If he calls, tell him he's dead meat."
"Will do, Miss Holt,"
Mildred said. "I tried his place again but there's
still no
answer. Do you want me to start checking hospitals?"
"It couldn't hurt,"
she answered on her way out. "Call me on the limo phone
if you find out anything."
Laura knocked on Remington's
door a half hour later. Traffic had been hell, and
everything was getting on her nerves this morning. She almost
hoped he was in
the hospital so she would not have to wring his neck. She
knocked again after
getting no answer. Finally, she let herself in.
Everything looked normal
as she walked into the living room. His bedroom door
was shut. Could he have slept in? It wasn't like him
to turn off his alarm and not
go to work. Laura was about to open the door when she heard
a moan. Thinking
Remington was just waking up, she opened the door. To her
horror, she found a
blond woman straddling Remington. She stood there gaping,
completely shocked.
June 24, 1986
Laura still remembered how
her face burned with embarrassment and rage. She
had made it to his front door when he called after her. She pretended
not to
hear him and continued out the door to the elevator.
"Laura, wait!"
he had called. She hadn't listened. Instead, she had
taken the
stairs and had Fred drive her home. He hadn't asked her
any questions, but the
look on his face said it all. Mildred called as she entered
her loft. Laura hadn't
told her anything except that Mr. Steele was fine and would be
in the office
shortly.
Of course, not twenty minutes
later, Remington had been pounding on her door
and calling her name. I should have parked in back,
she thought as she listened
to the pounding. She swallowed two Tylenol with a glass
of wine and parked herself
on her sofa. Remington had stopped pounding but was still talking.
"We need to talk,"
he was saying. Too late, she thought as she took
a long sip
of the wine. "I know what it looked like," he
had tried to say, but Laura cut him
off.
"You mean, it looked like you were FUCKING another woman?" she screamed.
June 24, 1986
Laura was pouring herself
a second gin and tonic when there was a knock on the
door. "Who is it?" she asked, already knowing
the answer.
"It's me," Remington answered.
"I already told you
I don't have anything to say to you," she said, trying to
sound
strong. She wasn't going to tell him she had spent the last
three days crying on
her couch. She had simply told Mildred she was taking a
few days off to get over
a cold. Whether or not Mildred believed her was irrelevant.
However, there was
no way she was going to tell HIM that she had cried over what
happened. She
was stronger than that.
"Laura, please," he all but begged. "Please don't shut me out. I need to explain."
"I'm tired of hearing you beg," she snarled. "It's unbecoming."
"Please... please,"
he was whispering through her door. "I need to see
you. To
tell you what I want to say. Please?"
"I think you've already done enough for this week, Mr. Steele."
"Fine, then I'll say
it right here and you can decided what you want to do." He
paused. "Laura?"
"Fine. Just say it and go away."
"I just..." he
started. "I wanted to say that I'm sorry. And...
to say that no matter
what you saw, or you think you saw... I still love you."
He waited a few moments
then was shocked to see the door open and a very upset woman standing
behind it.
Part 2
"You dare to tell me
that you love me and that I *think* I saw you with some
bimbo in the same sentence?"
"I-"
"You think you can
come over here after I told you I don't want to see you again
and tell me that you're SORRY!?!" she screamed. "I
deserve more than that."
"I know," he answered.
He'd expected her anger and her outburst. "All
I want is
the chance to explain, Laura. Then you can tell me to get
the hell out of your life."
"No," she said,
rejecting him. "I got your explanation of everything
concerning us
when I accidentally walked in on you and that... that... BIMBO!.
I don't care why
you did it or who she was," she lied. "I only
care that you've ruined everything!"
"But-" he tried again.
"No buts," she
said, cutting him off. "I don't care who you see from
now on. I
don't want you calling me, visiting me or talking to me again
unless it involves
work." Yep, she thought. Lay it all
out for him. Don't give in. "That is, if
you're
even going to stick around now that it's over between us,"
she spat. "I'll give you
some time to think that one over."
June 25, 1986
Monday morning came all
to quickly, and Laura found herself at work much
earlier than usual. At four a.m. she had decided that staring
at the ceiling wouldn't
help her solve her problems. Frustrated and tired, she flipped
the covers open and
headed for the shower.
She made it into work by
five and found the building mostly empty. At least other
people can sleep, she thought as she made a pot of coffee.
Sleep hadn't been her
friend for the past four nights, and it looked as if she'd go
a week or more without
it. How could one sleep when all they thought of was their
worst nightmare? she
asked herself. She'd just have to get on with her life and get
over HIM.
By the time seven rolled
around and Mildred arrived, Laura had finished the
paperwork on five cases and opened files on another two. When
the clock hit eight
she asked Mildred for another pot of coffee. By nine she wondered
if Remington
was going to show, and by ten-thirty was certain she probably
would not see him
again.
Fate proved her wrong a
few minutes later as he breezed in the door. She could
hear him greeting Mildred and could swear he paused by her door,
but seconds
later she heard him in his own office. That should by MY office,
she thought
angrily. I'm the only one that does any damn work around here.
Heck, even
Mildred's more qualified.
June 25, 1999
By four o'clock Laura's
brain picked up on the detail that no clients had called
upon their services. Remington stayed in his office and Mildred
busied herself at
her desk. She figured Mildred knew something was wrong since she
hadn't come
in on Friday and practically snarled when Remington's name was
mentioned.
Getting up from her desk for the first time in hours, she thought
about her options
in this matter. That's how she thought of the situation. A "matter"
to be handled
professionally from this point on. After all, they'd worked together
before without
being involved. They could do it again, couldn't they?
Not likely, she thought to herself. Who am
I kidding? The least she could do is
be a professional and go in and talk to the man. He'd sat in his
office most of
the day as well.
She knocked on his door
as she opened it but was surprised to see him whispering
into the phone. He obviously hadn't heard her knock and sat with
his back to
the door as he whispered. Her mouth hung open as she processed
what he was
whispering...
"I don't know, Marie,"
he whispered. "Laura's still upset about the other night,"
he paused, listening to the voice on the other end. "No,
she doesn't know. She
won't get within ten feet of me much less listen to me,"
he paused again. "I tried,
but-" Another pause. "I'll try. Can we meet at six?
I can arrive by then."
That bastard! He's STILL seeing her!?!
Remington left the office
at five fifteen, unaware that his partner was tailing him.
She'd arranged for a rental to be delivered within the hour since
she knew he'd
identify the Rabbit in no time. So far, he'd stopped at his apartment
and changed
clothes. She was shocked to see him come back to the limo in jeans
and a button
down shirt.
Now she was tailing him
through Hollywood then up into the hills. Whoever he
was meeting was obviously loaded to live in the area. Finally,
the limo pulled up
to a large house high up on the hill. She imagined that the view
alone was worth
a million dollars. Instead of stopping, she passed the limo and
pulled into a
driveway a few houses up. Seconds later, Fred drove by. She backed
out and parked
on the narrow street.
Remington sighed as he unlocked
his apartment door. It seemed there was no
chance of conversing with Laura about this mess. Who knew that
taking on a case
by himself would result in this? Surely he hadn't known all the
possibilities. He had
tried to talk things over with Marie up at her place. She had
pulled him into her
house with the intent to pick up where they had left off, only
he hadn't been
interested. Instead, he had told her that he was going to bring
Laura in on the case.
The next thing he knew she
had turned to ice and dinner had been spent in near
silence. He had left feeling deflated, confused and very angry.
When Marie Jacobs
walked into his office a week ago complaining of being stalked
he saw it as the
perfect opportunity to prove to Laura that he was able to handle
things on his own.
Big mistake, he told himself as he threw his rumpled jacket
on the couch.
In an attempt to ferret
out the stalker, Remington had taken Miss Jacobs to a trendy
restaurant downtown the night before. The stalker had not shown
after three hours
of waiting. That, in itself was not unusual. Criminals were not
known for easily
walking into investigator's hands. He found himself at the table
planning their next
stake out when he started to feel a little light-headed. He remembered
going back to
his apartment to plan their next move, yet he could not remember
what had transpired
until Laura barged into his bedroom. He had still been in a fog
but had finally found
presence of mind to go after her.
As it had turned out, however,
the 'stalker' wasn't even a stalker and Miss Jacobs
wasn't Miss Jacobs. Someone was after his hide and Miss Jacobs
had helped by
slipping a depressant into his scotch. It had not been enough
to knock him out,
but it had lowered his inhibitions to the point where he ended
up in bed with a
woman whom he had no interest in whatsoever. It also left him
with a bit of amnesia
about the whole thing.
She couldn't believe it!
After spending the evening camped outside of the 'perp's'
house, she'd finally made her way back to the office once Remington
left. Two phone
calls and a flustered Mildred later, Laura found what she was
looking for. Her
computer screen read:
[ Marie Eleanor Jacobs
2100 Skyridge Terrace
Hollywood CA 90748
DOB: 12-19-57
SSN: 548-06-1287
Aliases: Kathy Marshall; Marie Harris; Marie Jacobson, Ellen Marsh ]
It turns out that Marie
Jacobs was wanted in question with several burglaries
in Southern California and Arizona. Mildred had reluctantly informed
Laura
that Remington had taken her on as a client so he could demonstrate
his
abilities as a private investigator. They had intentionally kept
her out of the
case.
"Ha!" Laura shouted
to the empty office. He handled it all right. Right into
his bed with a con artist... And to think she had been intent
on moving things
forward. It figures, she thought. Maybe he got tired of
waiting. Maybe he had
been sneaking around behind her back the whole time. Maybe...
Remington breezed into the
office the next morning intent on straightening
things out with Laura. She would understand that he had been drugged
into
doing things beyond his control. She was very logical... if she
put two and two
together it would be more than obvious that he had not wanted
what she had
scene. Only... she had to listen to him instead of throwing him
out on his rear.
"Morning, Mildred,"
he announced before he noticed her empty desk.
"Mildred?"
"In here, Boss!" she answered from Laura's office.
"Where's Miss Holt?" he asked as he entered.
"She's left for the
day. There's a package on your desk for you," she said as
she left.
"Thanks, Mildred,"
he said as he headed for his office. He spotted a large
manila envelope with the name "Marie Jacobs" printed
neatly across the
middle in Laura's handwriting.
Damn. He should have known Laura would
jump into the middle of the
investigation. He knew better than to underestimate her, especially
when
he screwed up.
He dumped the contents of
the envelope onto his desk, immediately noticing
a letter from Laura. He put it aside for the moment and looked
over the black
and white photographs she must have taken. The pictures showed
Marie
Jacobs alongside some of the most prominent art dealers in the
area. The police
reports Laura had added showed that other men had been drugged
and the
contents of their galleries and private collections stolen. The
last report showed
Miss Jacobs arrest the previous evening, though the report had
not been officially
filed yet. She must have pulled some strings in order to get the
preliminary report.
Laura must have learned
that he had been drugged as well. Surely she would
have let him know if she knew. Maybe she thought it was still
consensual?
Damn, the letter...
"Mr. Steele,
I thought you might be interested
in seeing who your client really is. The
information here should be enough to fill you in on Marie Jacob's
motives and
criminal history. On a more personal note, I've decided to take
some time to sort
through this mess on my own. Mildred has my travel information
in case you need
to reach me in an emergency. My schedule has me returning a week
from tomorrow.
Laura"
He let the note slip from
his boneless fingers. It wasn't Laura's style to run away
from her problems. She usually dove into her work. Something was
very wrong.
11:30pm Local Time
Laura felt much better after
her second strawberry daiquiri. The beach was crowded
with tourists this time of year, but the weather was spectacular.
Things were
looking up, if that was possible. The LAPD had arrested Marie
Jacobs, and Laura
wasn't surprised to hear the numerous charges against her. She
had also heard
from Mildred that Miss Jacobs had intended to get Remington under
her spell in
order to learn if any important pieces of art were being moved
or protected by the
agency. Apparently he had quite a reputation in the art world
as well as the gossip
circles among women both in Europe and the U.S.
She had always speculated
about his past but was still surprised to have her
suspicions confirmed. Her thoughts about his promiscuity were
true if she believed
what Miss Jacobs had said in her statement to the police. It seemed
he had quite
a reputation... but, it was not fair to him to judge his past.
She could not hold him
accountable for his relationships with women when they had not
known each other.
1:30pm Los Angeles Time
Mildred had not been forthcoming
about Laura's location. It seems that Laura had
interrogated Mildred the night before about Marie Jacobs and the
fact that they hid
the whole thing from her from the beginning. There was no chance
of getting it out
of her now.
However, the whole mess
had started over his eagerness to prove to Laura how good
a detective he is. Surely he could find her before she did something
rash like cutting
off his credit and closing the lease on his condo. It was difficult
to admit that she
would probably end their relationship over this. Drugged or not,
he was still in bed
with a woman when she had walked into his bedroom. It was doubtful
she would
forget that any time soon. She had been so angry when he had attempted
to explain
things at her loft. Couple that with her hasty departure and Remington
could guess
the outcome.
Still, he had spent the
last four and a half years trying to prove to her his commitment.
He was not about to lose everything because he had been duped
by some she-devil. If
he could not use Mildred to help him out he would use his own
sources.
By three in the afternoon
he was making reservations for Maui. It seems a young
woman had checked in alone at a beach front resort. That was not
unusual, but one
of the staff had recognized her from a picture in the LA Tribune
a few weeks ago.
She had taken a direct flight from LAX and checked into the resort
under her real
name. Gathering his information, Remington left his office to
go home to pack.
"I'm taking an early
day, Mildred. See you tomorrow," Remington said on his way
out the door.
5:38pm Los Angeles Time
6:45pm Local Time
Once Laura's stomach felt
better she had wandered around the main part of the
resort. A full body treatment seemed the thing to do. Four hours
later she had a
new hair style, a full body massage, a manicure and a pedicure.
She felt like a new
woman. Almost.
11:28pm Local Time
Remington found himself
in a dilemma as he arrived at the resort. It was 11:30pm
local time and he was unsure if Laura was still awake. Sneaking
into her room was
not the best option in this case since he was trying to earn her
trust instead of destroy
whatever was left. At least he was certain she was alone. He couldn't
see her hopping
into bed with someone just to get back at him.
He opted for playing the
safe route and checked into the resort as Michael O'Leary.
It would do no good to spread word of Remington Steele's arrival.
At least the
employee who had recognized Laura had been paid to keep his mouth
shut.
Remington also made sure to get his room on the opposite side
of the resort, just
in case.
6:12am Local Time
Laura woke surprised to
find that she had slept relatively well the night before.
Glancing at the bedside clock, she notice she had slept in past
eight Los Angeles
time. A shower seemed like a good idea if she wanted to make it
down for breakfast
before the rush. She started to get up but remembered she promised
Mildred she
would check in with her today.
6:16am Local Time/8:16am Los Angeles Time
"He what!?!" she exclaimed minutes later.
"He left about two,
Miss Holt. He didn't say where he was going but I got vibes
that he wouldn't be in today," she admitted.
"Great," Laura sighed.
"I'm sorry, hon. He
asked me yesterday about your plans but I didn't tell him
anything. I swear!"
"Well it's not as if
I'm trying to disappear on the face of the planet. Call and leave
a message if he arrives." Click.
7:00am Local Time
Remington had decided the
direct approach was on the best and was waiting
outside her door by seven in the morning. So much for the sneak
attack he thought
as he heard Laura open the door. However, instead of the shock
he expected on her
face, Laura seemed relatively calm.
"I talked to Mildred,"
she said by way of greeting. "She seemed a little suspicious
yesterday when you left early."
"Yes, well she's usually on the mark about things," he replied. "Hi."
"Hi."
Uh... what now, Sport? "Would you like to get some breakfast?
I hear the buffet
is exquisite."
"Sure," Laura
replied as she shut her door. "I don't feel like discussing
things
on an empty stomach anyway."
7:20am
"So," he began
after they had filled their plates at the wondrous buffet. "This
is
nice."
Laura sat and placed her
napkin on her lap. "Well... Donald and Frances came
here a few years ago for a convention. Actually, the convention
wasn't here, but
they stayed here anyway."
"Ah, well I'll be sure to thank them for recommending it to you," he said.
"So..."
"..."
"You've obviously come
all this way to see me, and I'm sure it's not to get me
onto some moonlight beach to..." she trailed off as her annoyance
rose.
"To, what?" he asked.
"It doesn't matter now," she snapped.
"Laura... I know that
anything less than total honesty would be pointless now,"
he started. "Should I start at the beginning?"
"By all means," Laura said as she sipped her fresh pineapple juice.
"Yes. Well, as it happened... This all started out by my wanting to impress you."
"You failed miserably," she said, smirking.
"Laura, please... this
is hard enough without interruptions like that," he all but
begged. "Anyway, I thought that it would go a long way to
proving my commitment
to you if I could show you that I was capable of handling a case
on my own. Mildred
agreed to help me as long as everything went smoothly. So, we
waited until
something came long that seemed perfect.
"Marie Jacobs hired
me to help protect her from an old boyfriend who wouldn't
leave her alone. I learned that she was using me the night you
came over. I'm very
sorry that you had to see what you did. I don't remember much
from that evening,
but we'd gone to a restaurant posing as a couple to try and get
her ex to show.
Obviously, that wasn't going to happen. She slipped something
in my drink before
we left... and everything is a blur after that. Until you came
over. Laura, I swear to
you that I had no idea what was going on," he finished.
"I know," she
said, taken by his confession. "It seems you're only the
latest victim
in her schemes. She's done this to many prominent men in the art
world," she told
him. "She was arrested yesterday."
"Well that's good to
know," he said. "I tried to explain what had happened
that
night but you were in no mood to listen. Not that I blame you."
"I know that too,"
she said. "I should have listened, but it appeared as if
you were
only saying what you said in order to distract me."
"It did appear that way, didn't it?" he asked. Laura nodded.
"I shouldn't have driven
over to your loft in my condition, but I needed to tell you
what had happened. I hadn't planned on telling you... I mean,
what I told you. I
mean, telling you under those circumstances," he finished.
"I'll admit I didn't
want to hear it then. A lot of men tend to only say it when they're
in trouble or in bed," she said. "So, what do we do
now?"
8:00am Local Time
"On the beach again," Remington mused. "This is becoming tradition."
"At least it's not
raining," Laura said. "I guess this is where I say I'm
not dealing
with this very well."
"Join the club," he joked.
"I'm not exactly happy
that woman targeted you partly because of your reputation
in bed," she said, watching his expression.
Remington's eyebrows rose
in shock. "I didn't know that, Laura. From what I
understand she chose me in hopes of gaining access to some pieces
from a local
art gallery or from other clients."
Laura rolled her eyes.
"Look, Laura. Since
we've been together I haven't been with anyone. It's been over
three years since for me... since we started to see each other,"
he told her.
"Somehow I find it
hard to believe you abstained after the disaster in Cannes,"
she said as she picked up her pace along the surf.
He grabbed her by the arm
before she could get away from him. "Wait, please. Can
we sit down and talk about this? I'm tired of walking." She
nodded and they
wandered up the beach to find a vacant spot of dry sand.
"Ah, that's better,"
he said as they sat. "Anyway... I can't say that I didn't
try. I
did. I found that I couldn't go through with it, however. It wasn't
exactly my
choice to stop seeing you, and from one week to the next I was
never sure if you
really wanted it to be over."
Finally, he looked Laura
in the eye as he told her what she'd always wanted to
hear. "And, I never stopped loving you, even when I was sure
you didn't want me
to."
"I'd like to believe that," Laura stated with a minimal hint of skepticism.
"Well, isn't that what you've always wanted, Laura?"
"Of course I want that,"
she spat at him. "I'm sorry," she apologized at his
started expression. "I'm just a little perplexed at everything
that's happened
lately."
Remington remained quite, waiting for Laura to continue.
"I mean, things were
okay. Not great, but okay. And then this happens and
I came here to find some clarity and get out of my head for a
while."
"And have you? Found
clarity, I mean," he asked, digging his feet into the cool
sand.
"I'd like to think
so," she answered and imitated Remington's fascination
with the sand. "I guess... I guess I was just so angry about
what I saw. I feel
awful about assuming the worst about you. It felt like I'd fulfilled
my own
self-fulfilling prophecy."
"Meaning you'd rather
be right about my less-than-honorable intensions
than put yourself on the line with me," Remington stated,
obviously deflated
at the turn in the conversation.
Laura's silence answered his mood.
"Laura, is being alone
for the rest of your life what you really want?"
Remington asked. "I mean, you're well on your way to that
now."
"Is that what you think?"
"Well..." Remington
paused, carefully considering his answer. "Let's
evaluate, shall we? You. You're thirty. Thriving business. Wonderful
reputation. Yet, you live alone. No lover, no husband, no children.
Your
cat ran away years ago. One possibility for a romantic relationship."
"Well, I guess if you're going to simplify-"
"Me," he cut her
off. "A young thirty-something who, thanks to you, has a
superb reputation as well. No kids, not pets. Like you, one possibility
for
doing the right thing in my life."
"Which would be me."
"I haven't stuck around for the free suits, Laura," he said in all seriousness.
"I know that now,"
she said as she stared at her buried feet. "There's
something I haven't been real honest about, either."
"Oh?"
"I mean about me. Not really my intensions for us, but it does concern us."
"Alright. I'm all ears."
"I mean romantically."
"I'm listening."
"This isn't exactly the easiest thing for me to talk about..."
"You're referring to sex."
"Partly, yes. But, I mean... not just that. More than that," she faltered.
"I hope you feel like
you can share anything with me, Laura. Especially about
this," he gestured helpless between them, knowing Laura was
stuck.
"I guess what I'm trying
to say is that I have a hard time dealing with
intimacy. Not just sex, but being close with someone."
"You don't say," he said in mock seriousness.
"I'm trying to be serious here!" she exclaimed.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry,"
Remington apologized. "I just meant that I know
you do."
"Believe it or not,
I have to be really comfortable with someone before I can
just hop into bed with them and-"
"Wait a minute. I'm not asking you to just 'hop into bed' with me."
"Of course you are!"
"Bed, yes," he
stated calmly, not wanting to upset her again. "But, please
don't make this out to be something less than what it is."
"You said earlier that you were certain there were times that I didn't love you."
"Meaning that you would rather have the option of not dealing with me, yes."
"You believe that?"
"It seems to make sense,
Laura. That's how I came to understand your not
wanting me, or at least your confusion about things. It would
have been much
easier for you if you hadn't been interested in me, or if I hadn't
been interested in
you."
"But, you wouldn't have stayed."
"Probably not, no."
"You stayed for me."
"For the idea of you,
initially. Once that changed I realized that it was for the
reality of you. Los Angeles is my home now. You're there. Our
work is there.
My home is there."
"Things could be better."
"Always."
"Yeah."
"We'll work through
your concerns around intimacy, Laura. As long as we
feel that we're trying to achieve the same goals here."
"Like you being more willing to talk."
"And you being more
willing to be physically intimate. Yes And in case you
haven't noticed... we're talking here."
"I suppose that's worth something..."
"Hmm... what to do... what to do..."
"Maybe a kiss?" Laura asked, leaning in expectantly.
"No, I don't think so," Remington said, millimeters from her lips.
"No?"
"No... I was thinking something more along the lines of a confession."
"Confession?" Laura squeaked.
"Yes, Miss Holt,"
he said, standing and brushing the sand from his pants.
"Seems to me that I let the cat out of the bag a while back."
"Ah, I see. That kind of confession."
"It's only fair, don't you think? I tell you how I feel, you tell me how you feel..."
"Alright, alright. You want to hear those three little magic words?"
"More than anything in the world, Laura."
"Fine," Laura
said and stood up as well. "I suppose a beautiful tropical
beach is a good enough location to tell you that I love you. And
I do. Whether
or not I think it's the best thing for me," she hedged, hoping
he'd understand
her tease.
"Now I have a confession,"
he said, taking her into his arms. "You're the
first person who's ever said that to me and meant it." He
squeezed her for
emphasis. "Thank you."
"I'm sorry," she
mumbled into his chest. "You deserve much better than
that."
"Don't be, Laura. I'm just glad you're the first."
"So, what happens now?"
"Now? Now we kiss, make up and go to bed!" he laughed.
"Bed?"
"To sleep. I was up all night worrying about us."
"What am I supposed to do while you're sleeping?"
"Oh, you'll think of
something, Laura. You have the entire island at your
disposal." Noting her frown, he added, "Or you could
take a nap with me."
"Uh huh."
"Well, we at least
have the 'kiss and make up' part of the discussion left to
finish."
"I thought you said you were tired..."
"Not too tired to do
this," he said and gently touched his lips to hers in
the gentlest of kisses. He pulled away, noting her shock at his
restraint.
"I'm not expecting anything today besides your company and
a few hours
of solid sleep."
"I won't break, you
know. I mean, you don't have to watch your step around
me now that I told you I-"
"I know, Laura, I know.
But, you might run away again...."
The End
AN: I tried. I really tried.
I know they go off to have sex, but it wasn't going to
come through my fingertips this time. Use your imagination. :o)