By: Melissa Jones


First printed: More Red Holt Steele #10

Summary: After the harrowing problems with bombs during “Premium Steele,” Remington has nightmares and Laura comforts him.

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.


Remington sighed heavily, taking Laura's hand in his. He patted her hand assuringly, then rubbed it. He sat next to her, entwining his fingers in hers and cradling her hand in both of his as he stared into space. Laura smiled slightly, comforted by his presence and the obvious caring for her.

"Thanks," she blurted out softly, staring straight ahead.

"What for?" he asked, keeping his eyes forward.

"For saving my life this afternoon," she answered. "For being here."

Remington straightened slightly, turning and staring at her affectionately, a tiny smile coming to his lips. Laura looked at him, her affection for him present in her lovely features.

"For being you," she finished. Remington grinned, a chuckle escaping from him.

"Laura, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," he replied. He scooted next to her, putting his arm around her and pulling her close.

Laura gently rested her head on his shoulder, allowing his presence to comfort her. He smelled of smoke, reminding her of the serious level that this case had escalated to. She felt sorry for the boy who had died in Remington's hallway, but she secretly thanked God that Remington hadn't been on the receiving end of the bomb attached to his door.

She couldn't bear to think of what she would have done if she had lost him tonight. Of course, she would have died, too. He wouldn't have been around to diffuse the bomb on her door. Perhaps, under those circumstances, her death would have been best. It would have been better than facing a long life without him.

Laura clung tighter to Remington, burying her face in his neck as she tried to force the horrible thoughts from her mind.

"Hey," Remington whispered, tilting her chin upwards with his fingertips. "You okay?"

She smiled at the concern in his eyes. "Yeah," she lied. "I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."

"Oh, Laura, I'm sorry," Remington said, pulling away and standing up. "I didn't even think about how tired you must be. I'll go, and let you get some sleep."

"No, it's all right," Laura said, reluctant to let him leave. He looked at her questioningly. "I mean...if you still need to, you can stay for a few minutes longer." She cursed herself softly for not being honest about her own needs.

"No, I'm all right," Remington lied. "We need rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"You're right," Laura nodded, trying not to let the disappointment show in her face. She stood up. "Well, good night, Mr. Steele."

Remington stared at her momentarily. He reached out to her, caressing her cheek. He stepped up to her and laid a gentle, loving kiss on her lips.

"Good night, Miss Holt," he whispered. He turned slowly and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Laura asked.

Remington turned back to her, puzzled. "I'm going to my room," he responded.

"Why don't you just go through there?" Laura asked, pointing to the

connecting door on her right.

"You mean you unlocked it?" Remington asked, surprised. Laura had never unlocked their connecting door before.

"I thought it would be more convenient, you know...just in case one of us needed...anything. A safety precaution," Laura explained awkwardly.

Remington smiled softly. "I understand," he said. He crossed the room to the connecting doors, pausing briefly. "Sweet dreams, Miss Holt," he said.

Laura smiled. "You, too, Mr. Steele," Laura replied. Remington entered his room, closing the door behind him. Laura sighed, hugging her arms to her frame and trying to squelch her fears as she glanced around the empty room.


Laura turned restlessly in bed for the countless time. Her puzzlement and fear of the present case was winning out over her fatigue. She wondered if Remington was having as much trouble sleeping. She knew he was just as scared as she was, and seeing that boy die so horribly was certain to have scarred him. She wasn't sure what concerned her more now -- the danger they were in or the thought of him in anguish.

Laura rolled over to her side, staring at the empty pillow beside her. It was times like this that she wished they were lovers. She wanted so much for him to be there beside her now. Not to make love, but just to hold and comfort. She wanted to go into his room now and crawl in beside him, but she knew that would never be appropriate.

He didn't need to hold her now, the way she needed to hold him. She wouldn't want to encourage other ideas tonight. He had been through so much; she could never hurt him by building his hopes for a romantic interlude. As much as she needed him now, she knew that she would just have to force herself to be rational. It used to be so easy to do, but ever since Remington first forced Laura into releasing her emotions, being purely rational was becoming harder and harder.

Laura closed her eyes and sighed heavily. She couldn't imagine how she was going to get to sleep tonight.

"Laura," a muffled voice called out.

Laura lifted her head, wondering if she had really heard it, or if her exhausted mind was playing with her.

"Laura," the voice came again, louder.

Remington. He needed her.

Laura rose from the bed and put her terrycloth bathrobe on as she headed for the connecting door.

"Laura!" Remington called again, his voice filled with urgency.

Laura tied her robe's sash around her waist and burst into his room, frightened of what she might find.

The room was pitch-black, and the faint sounds of movement emanated from the bed. Laura fumbled for the light on the bedside table, her mind filled with terrible images of an intruder trying to smother Remington. Her shaking fingers found the light's switch, and the room was instantly illuminated. Laura was relieved to find Remington asleep and alone. She looked around curiously, wondering if she had imagined hearing him call out to her. She watched as he tossed his head about in an agitated manner. His breathing was labored. A scowl lined his face, and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead.

"Laura, no," he called out in his sleep.

Laura looked at him with anguish and sympathy. He was having a nightmare, apparently involving her. She sat down on the edge of his bed, facing him. Laura put her hand gently on his bare shoulder, hoping her touch would calm him.

"No," he called out, moaning painfully.

Laura shook him gently, trying to wake him from his terrible dream. Suddenly, his whole body convulsed, and he was still. Laura leaned back, studying him fearfully, wondering if he would be all right now. She watched as his breathing rapidly became more erratic.

"Oh, God," he groaned. Suddenly, he sat upright, his eyes opening in horror. "Laura!"

"Sh-sh, hey, hey," Laura said, putting her hands on his shoulders and trying to calm him. He focused on her, relief mixing with his fear.

"Oh, God, Laura," he cried in anguish, pulling her into a tight embrace.

She returned his embrace strongly, aching over the pain and fear he was obviously feeling. "'s okay. I'm here," Laura whispered. She turned her head and kissed the tip of his ear. "I'm here."

His trembling subsided slightly. "I saw you going up to your loft, and I knew I had to stop you. Because of the bomb," he explained, still clutching her tightly. "I called out to you, but you kept going. I kept going up flight after flight. It seemed like they would never end. Just as I got to your floor, the bomb went off." He buried his face in her hair, trying to control his intense emotions. "I opened the door. There was smoke and debris everywhere. Your door was on the floor outside your loft. I lifted it up, and you were..." he choked up at the last words. Laura pulled back, looking deeply into his tear-filled eyes as she held his head gently in her hands.

"I'm fine. It was just a dream," she stressed. "You did make it to the loft in time. You did save my life. I'm okay."

"Yeah," he said, looking down as he struggled to regain his composure.

Laura released him and sat back slightly. Remington rubbed his unshaven, stress-haggard face wearily. He sighed heavily as his trembling faded.

"Are you going to be all right?" Laura asked with concern, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, I think so," he answered. He looked up at her curiously. "What are you doing in here?"

"You called me in your sleep," Laura explained.

"I'm sorry, Laura. I didn't mean to wake you," Remington apologized, still struggling to calm himself.

"You didn't," Laura replied. Remington looked at her curiously. Laura sighed. "I haven't slept a wink," she admitted.

"Why? Are you worried about the case?" he asked. Laura nodded.

"And you," Laura added. "Apparently my worry is justified."

"Perhaps so," Remington agreed, trying to keep the terrible images of Laura's lifeless body from resurfacing. Laura took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. He smiled, taking her hand in both of his and kissing it gently. He held her hand in his lap, staring at it for a moment before she covered his hands with her free one.

"Laura," he began softly. "I realize that you may take this the wrong way, but..." he looked up at her, a pleading expression on his face. "Would you...stay with me for a while? I mean, I think I would sleep better if you were here beside me. Just knowing you're there...and I won't do anything. It will be purely innocent, I assure you." His eyes softened, as well as his tone. "I need you, Laura. I need you nearby tonight."

Laura smiled, glad that he obviously felt the same way she did.

"I understand completely," she said. She stood up, removing her robe and tossing it across the foot of the bed. Remington smiled gratefully as he scooted back to give Laura room. Laura slid under the covers, her back to him.

"Should I turn out the light?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at him. He nodded, and she switched the light off. Laura settled into a comfortable position. Still, something was missing. She sighed heavily, and turned to him.

"Would you mind...holding me tonight?" she whispered to him, secretly praying that he would eagerly oblige.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his dark form raising up slightly.

"Yes," she said. She felt the bed move, and suddenly he was there, pressed against her back, his strong arms encircling her.

"You needed this too, didn't you?" he asked softly, his breath caressing her ear.

"What makes you say that?" she responded, afraid to admit how right he was.

"Because you've never unlocked our connecting door before. Because we've never slept together like this before. You wouldn't allow all this to happen unless you really needed to be with me, and you really trusted me to behave myself," Remington answered.

Laura smiled. "You know me too well, Mr. Steele," Laura said. They lay together silently for a moment.

"Thanks," Remington whispered.

"What for?" Laura asked sleepily.

"For trusting me tonight," Remington answered. He paused. "For being here. For being you."

Laura's smile widened at the familiar words. "Mr. Steele, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," Laura quipped.

Remington chuckled. He kissed the side of her head before resettling his head on his pillow.

"Sweet dreams, Mr. Steele," Laura whispered.

"You, too, Miss Holt," Remington responded.

Laura smiled, basking in his warmth and the love she felt for him as she drifted off into a pleasant sleep.