By: Susan Deborah Smith


First printed: More Red Holt Steele #13/14

Summary: Sometimes simple things are the best.

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.


Laura came back from her morning run and sat on the couch in her shorts and t-shirt to read the paper. Her hair, pulled back from her face in a ponytail, was golden in the strong sunlight, and her face was still flushed.

Remington came out of the kitchen and stood in the doorway.

"You look," he said suddenly, "seventeen years old."

She glanced up. "Do I?"

"At the most." He set down his teacup and bent to kiss her. "My child bride, eh?"

With one hand behind his neck, she held him to her. "And if I'd met you when I was seventeen, whom would I have known?"

He sat down beside her. "Seventeen. What year was that?"

"Seventy three."

"Seventy three. And I'd've been what? Twenty two?" His eyes twinkled at the thought. "Ah, yes. I might have stood a chance with you, then. When I was twenty two, I was The Great Savini."

"Breathing fire and flying on the high trapeze?"

"Every night, and three times on Sundays." He leaned toward her and kissed her and bore her back on the cushions. "The handsome and devilish Savini would have tenderly and masterfully overcome the innocence of the young circus fanatic."

A tingle of excitement went through her, as if she was seventeen again and he was The Great Savini. "Would he?" she laughed under his kiss.


She shifted a little. "Providing, of course," she said, "the young circus fanatic had any innocence to overcome."

He lifted his head and smiled. "Had she?"

"Well," she hedged. "Yes. When I was seventeen."

"And eighteen. And nineteen."

"You're just guessing."

He slipped down to his knees by her side. He really looked very dashing.

"I know something about you, Laura," he said. "Something about your character. Intellectual, independent girl. Busy at university, on a scholarship, wanting to be in control of destiny." He looked her up and down. "I'd say you were twenty at least."

She knew she blushed and gave up bluffing. "Late start," she admitted.

"Your own choice."


"You see, I do know you. I'll wager you picked the time and the place, and overwhelmed him with your youthful and untutored exuberance."

She sat up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Taking his collar in both hands, she gave it a quick jerk and ripped his shirt open. Buttons flew everywhere.

"Shall I overwhelm you with my youthful and highly skilled exuberance?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, Mrs. Steele," he said. "Please do."