BY: xffan_2000

SUMMARY: Set between Steele Trying and Steele of Approval. Laura tells Steele some rather startling news about her past.

RATING: NC-17 for sexual situations and a touchy subject.

DISCLAIMER: This "Remington Steele" story is not-for-profit and is purely for entertainment purposes. The author and this site do not own the characters and are in no way affiliated with "Remington Steele," the actors, their agents, the producers, MTM Productions, the NBC Television Network or any station or network carrying the show in syndication, or anyone in the industry.


Earlier, when Laura invited him to her loft after they arrived from San Francisco, he didn’t know what she had in mind. “Just a thank you for a nice weekend,” was all she said.

For awhile, he was afraid she’d threaten to cook dinner for him, but that fear vanished almost the instant they slid the door closed. Laura dropped her carry-on bag and turned on him. Before he could free himself of the two suitcases he was holding, Laura was yanking him by his tie, brining his lips down to hers.

The bags fell to the wooden floor with two dull thuds as he wrapped his arms around her. Almost before he completed the hug, she was pulling away, shoving his coat off his shoulders and slipping his tie free. His shirttail was jerked loose and she began working his buttons open.

For a short while...a very short while...Steele was too stunned to respond. As he found himself being lead up the tiny staircase to her bedroom, he shook himself back to reality.

“Laura?” he questioned. “What do you--” She silenced him with another searing kiss.

“You made me realize a few things about myself, Mr. Steele,” she explained when they separated.

“What exactly would that be?” He fell none too graciously onto her bed when the backs of his knees suddenly encountered the edge of the mattress.

Laura crawled on top of him and kissed her way down his chest, finishing unbuttoning his shirt as she went. When she reached his belt, she stopped and looked up at him. “That although we...I mean, even though I...” Her eyes met his for a prolonged moment.

There was something she was reluctant to explain. He could see the excuses forming in her mind.

He, of course, had seen her go from red-hot to ice cold in a matter of milliseconds on occasions too numerous to mention. So for her to practically rip his clothes off and throw him in bed then walk away was nothing new.

“No need to explain now, Laura,” he assured her, hoping she hadn’t changed her mind. He had quite the tent in his trousers and it wasn’t something he was looking forward to seeing deflate anytime soon.

She nodded. “I just want to thank you for this weekend.” She reached for his belt.

His hand stopped her. “You don’t have to thank me this way, you know.”

Laura peeled his hand from hers and returned to unbuckling. “Then it’s not a thank you.” She unzipped his pants. “I just want to do this.”

Steele was unsure of exactly how to respond to that. So his body answered for him with a surprised jerk when she reached inside his underwear and touched him.

Christ’s name slipped out from between his clenched teeth, as his head rolled backwards. She’d never touched him there skin-to-skin before and certainly never been that direct about her goals.

Laura reached further inside to cup his balls. “You like this?”

“Oh, yeah,” he answered, opening his eyes to her again.

“Good.” She pulled her hand back and shoved at his hips, pushing the material down to his knees.

Steele moved to a sitting position and reached to unzip her skirt.

“Uh-uh.” She pushed his hand away. “I’m doing this.”

Intrigued, Steele reclined again, this time propping a pillow under his head so he could watch.

Laura reached over to her nightstand and opened the drawer. He couldn’t see exactly what she was rummaging for, but was pleased to see her return with a small bottle of massage oil. She saw his smile and held the plastic bottle up as if she were on a game show modeling the prize for him. He chuckled a bit and she grinned.

“Ready?” she asked as she flipped the cap on the oil and poured a handful out into her palm.

Steele nodded enthusiastically.

Laura rubbed her hands together, then placed them both on his genitals, her left hand on his shaft, her right on his balls.

The sudden heat, the moisture, the very idea that it was Laura ministering to his needs nearly shot him off right then. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, concentrating on keeping himself together. That task turned nearly impossible when she started pumping him and rolling his testicles.

His hand groped for her, wanting desperately to remove her shirt, her skirt, her pantyhose. Something. Anything. He had to feel her body too.

Just as his hand found purchase on her skirt and he started to pull it off, she shirked him away. He fumbled around, gripping at her thigh, trying to get to her apex, but she backed out of his reach.

He was becoming frustrated with her lack of cooperation. A different tactic was needed. Perhaps conversation would convince her to capitulate.

“Is this the reckless...” His right leg twitched. “...the indulgent...” He gripped a handful of sheet and pulled hard. “...or fr--frivolous Lauraaaaaah?”

Her grip tightened around his hardness, but her movements slowed in response.

His head fell back on the pillow as her hand left his member, chilling him instantly.

“Don’t stop,” he gasped.

“I’m not,” she said. “I just need more oil.” Her warm, slippery hand soon returned to purposefully stroking him.

He groaned out a noise that sounded somewhat like a plea to God.

As her rhythm increased tempo, he threaded his fingers through her hair, gripping her head in an effort to urge her on. When she started to forego the long strokes and concentrate on the head of the shaft, his hips lifted off the mattress.

“Laura--” he began before getting cut off by a nearly uncontrollable seizing in his groin.

“Yes?” She responded, the smirk obvious in her voice.

His hand slid from her hair to her still-covered breast. “Take this off.” He tugged at her shirt a little. “Please,” he added.

She didn’t stop her constant tugging on him while she reached up to move his hand away from her chest. She kissed his fingers, then gently placed his palm on his own exposed belly. It rose and fell rapidly as his breath came in near pants.

“Just enjoy it, Mr. Steele,” she nearly purred.

He was enjoying it. He was enjoying it a hell of a lot. In fact, he was enjoying it so much, he could feel the familiar tingling start to build up in the base of his scrotum.

He again reached out for her. Finding her knee, he dug his fingers in. “Laura...I’m going to...I can’t keep...”

“It’s okay,” she told him and increased the pressure in her clenched fist.

Steele grunted, his abdominal muscles tightened and he discharged his seed in a long white trail onto his stomach. Laura stroked him until his contractions subsided and he lay gasping.

Blinking several times, Steele finally focused on Laura. She had a towel in her hands and was wiping away the massage oil.

“God, Laura.”

She began cleaning the semen from his hair and softening penis.

He shoved her hand away and suddenly sat up, grabbing her face in his hands. He kissed her hard, his tongue shoving its way past her lips and teeth. As she started to respond to him, he pushed her backwards, attempting to get on top of her.

“God, Laura, I want you so much,” he said as the blood poured back into his penis.

“Mr. Steele,” she said through his kiss.

“Now,” he insisted, again reaching for her skirt.

“No!” she announced and shoved at his chest, hard.

Stunned, Steele pulled back. “What?”

“I said no.” Laura shoved the towel at him then stood up.

“Why the bloody hell not?”

“Because I said so, that’s why!” She turned and headed for the bathroom.

Steele got to his feet and jerked up his pants. “Laura!” She slammed the bathroom door. “Damn it, Laura! What’s your problem?” He stood just outside the bathroom door, his hands on his hips, his newly-formed erection forgotten.


“Like hell.” He decided against being gentlemanly. She’d pushed him far past that years ago. Now he just wanted answers. He wrenched open the bathroom door to find Laura standing at the sink, looking quite ill.

His anger and frustration vanished. “What’s the matter?”


“Laura,” he tried, soothingly, “talk to me. Please.”

Laura looked at him through the mirror. His blue eyes showed nothing but genuine concern. She bowed her head, her hair falling forward to hide her face.

“I can’t,” she whispered.

Steele approached and put his hands on her shoulders. “You can talk to me. I’m here to listen.”

“No, I mean, I can’t...” she waved her hand in the air indicating a word, “with you.”

“I don’t understand.” He pointed toward the bedroom. “What about that? What about--”

“No!” Laura pulled from him. “It’s just...I can’t. Okay? Can’t you just leave it at that?” She pushed past him, heading for the livingroom.

Although he really wanted to clean the sticky remains of sperm from his belly, he didn’t take the time. He followed Laura to the sofa.

“I’m completely in the dark here, Laura. Help me understand.”

She remained silent.

“Okay. You say you can’t. Do you mean physically you can’t?” He sat down next to her, though she wouldn’t look at him. “Because we could work on that together. Take it slow.” He tried to look through her curtain of hair hiding her features. He didn’t honestly think she had a problem actually doing the deed. “You’re not ill, are you? An STD? Because, we can use protection for that.”

Laura shook her head to the negative.

Steele put his arm around her shoulders. It was then he noticed she was trembling.

“Laura?” He forced her to face him. She had tears in her eyes. “Dear God, Laura, what’s wrong?”

Laura shook her head, as if trying to deny the world its revenge. “I won’t do it again,” she stated emphatically. “Ever!”

Utterly confused, Steele stared at her. “Won’t do what ever again?”

“I won’t ever have another...I won’t ever have sex again before I’m married.”

Steele literally pulled back in shock. “Excuse me?”

Her face was red with emotion, her eyes were brimming with tears. And Steele still didn’t understand any of it.

“A life-long commitment ahead of time, just in case...” her voice cracked. “Just in case,” She finished.

As if someone had taken a bag off his head, Steele realized what she was talking about. “My God, Laura. Were you--”

“I was,” she hung her head, large tears impacting on her skirt. “With Wilson.”

At a loss, Steele shook his head. “What happened?”

“He left me,” she said, not looking up. “Before we even knew, he left me.”


“I went to see him once after I found out. I didn’t tell him. He didn’t even want me around at that point.”

Reluctant to hear the answer, Steele nevertheless asked. “What did you do?”

Laura choked on her own gasp of air. “I got rid of it.”

Steele was silent as comprehension worked its way into his brain.

“I was only 23. I’d just started my own business. I didn’t have the money or the time or the courage or the knowledge or...” her sob broke her trail of excuses. “I took the easy way out and I’ve never forgiven myself.”

Steele, still unsure of how to process the information, stared at nothing. He pictured a slightly younger version of Laura as a woman in trouble, abandoned at the worst possible time, left to make a life-altering decision alone. He suddenly understood her fear of being left behind.

“I’m so sorry, Laura. I never knew.”

“No one knew,” she informed him, finally looking up. “No one until today.”

Steele nodded slowly. “A life-long commitment,” he repeated.

Laura quirked her mouth up a bit to confirm his statement.

Another few minutes passed. Steele then stood up and began to button his shirt. Laura looked up at him, tears reforming in her eyes. He grabbed his coat and tie from the floor.

“I’m so very sorry, Laura,” he said sincerely. “But I can’t...”

“I know.”

“Not without...”

She cut him off, “I understand.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“Mr. Steele,” she began, visibly preparing herself for the confrontation, “I’ve taken full responsibility for my...indiscretion...” She turned to face him, the tears gone. “But I’ve also made a promise to myself,” she stopped and swallowed, “and any children I should be blessed with in the future. I won’t get into the same situation ever again. And I understand perfectly that I have lead you along for the past three years under false pretenses, knowing full well that you’re not the type to get married just to get some.” She rose to her feet and walked past him to the door. “I’m sorry this evening ever happened, as I shouldn’t have forced myself on you like that.”

“Forced yourself?” he sputtered.

“If you’d be so kind as to excuse me, I’d like to forget this ever took place.” She slid the door to the right and stood with her back to him.


“Please. Just go.”

Steele vacated the loft, but turned around to face her once he stood in the hall.

“I didn’t expect a commitment from you,” she assured him. “Not really. It’s okay, though.”

“I see,” he said, a strange void forming in the center of his chest.

“Good night, Mr. Steele.”

He only stared at her while she slid the door closed.

As he turned to trudge down the stairs, he knew she was wrong...about a number of things. But she couldn’t be more wrong about him if she tried. And he was determined to prove that to her.

He reached the Auburn and turned to look back up at her now-darkened loft. It had been his plan to ask her, after the Westfield case wrapped up, to help him track the leads he’d dug up in connection with the watch.

But now...now he was determined to find it on his own, to offer it up to her as proof of his commitment, to show her that Remington Steele...or whoever he turned out to be...was a man of honor. A man worthy of both her and any children they might conceive, either on purpose or by accident.