Chapter Text
Laura Holt was exhausted. No, exhausted wasn’t the right word for it. It didn’t quite cover just how tired she was. Neither did the phrases bone-tired or weary to the core, though they came a bit closer. Under the red-blue glare of the lights from the numerous police cruisers surrounding the building that housed Remington Steele Investigations, Laura checked her watch. It was six AM on Christmas day.
The last place Laura expected to be at this hour of the morning on Christmas day was sitting next to her partner – the man she knew as Remington Steele – in the back of a police van, with a blanket wrapped around the two of them – for comfort rather than warmth – as they waited for the police chief to release them.
Although the people responsible for holding them hostage the night before had been caught, Laura and Mr. Steele were required to give multiple statements. That, combined with the lack of sleep and the adrenaline that was now subsiding, Laura was more tired than she ever remembered. Mr. Steele appeared to be in the same boat, as he’d started to nod off occasionally on her shoulder, waking suddenly each time she shifted ever so slightly.
That was where his head currently rested, and Laura did her best not to disturb him. For a grown man, he looked oddly peaceful when he slept. Given what they had been through the night before, she thought it only fair that he be allowed to enjoy that peace as long as possible. While they had both been in danger – something that wasn’t unusual for them – Mr. Steele had come exceptionally close to being shot by the man who called himself Dancer.
Laura shuddered as she remembered watching helplessly as Mr. Steele faced off against Dancer with the agency gun that she hadn’t realised at the time wasn’t even loaded. She remembered – with some degree of shame – the fleeting feeling of disappointment as Dancer dared Steele to shoot, asking him if there was anyone worth dying for. Steele, knowing he’d had no other option, had said no and placed the gun down in front of Dancer. Laura had felt her heart sink even as her eyes met his. She had brushed the feeling away as soon as it came, telling herself she had no idea how she would have handled that situation. Neither of them particularly cared for guns, and though the agency had one, they rarely ever brought it along on a case, much less fired it.
Neither of them had ever killed someone, and despite her disappointment, Laura knew rationally that making that choice was not an easy one. Still, she knew that he’d seen that look on her face, however briefly. He’d even gone so far as to ask her if his inability to shoot Dancer had lowered her estimation of him. By then, she had already forgiven him. It wasn’t fair to expect him – a con man who abhorred guns – to be able to shoot a man in cold blood for anyone. In an attempt to absolve him of his own inner torment, she remembered smiling at him and telling him that in her opinion, both he and Mildred had been far too reckless. She’d watched as relief flooded his features, and he’d given her a soft kiss on the cheek in thanks.
A short while afterwards, Mildred told her that the agency gun hadn’t had any bullets in it and Mr. Steele had risked more than either of them had realised. Although Laura had smiled at Mildred, impressed by her partner’s ability to call Dancer’s bluff, a cold dread had settled in the pit of her stomach as she realised how close he’d come to being killed.
That dread only intensified as the night wore on. It was clear that the two Santas that called themselves Prancer and Donner were merely henchman and that Dancer was the real danger. Having already shot Dr. Scabbard in the foot, Laura knew he wouldn’t hesitate to make good on his threats. Laura had known men like that before.
His references to his experiences in Vietnam, coupled with an eager trigger finger and those cold, cruel eyes told Laura that if Mr. Steele had hesitated even a second longer with that empty gun, Christmas day would forever be remembered as the day she’d lost her partner. It chilled her to the very bone.
Inwardly, she’d promised herself that if she and Mr. Steele managed to make it through that night, she would make some changes in her life – starting with her relationship with Mr. Steele.
For four long years, the two of them had been dancing around each other – playing a game that neither of them seemed to know how to win. She knew that they both wanted the same thing – to take things to the next level, but their fears and inhibitions kept holding them back. When one of them seemed ready, the other would hesitate. Laura had assumed they had the time to work things out at their own pace, but the events of the previous night had shown her that life was short and unpredictable.
It had been sheer luck that Mr. Steele had survived that encounter with Dancer and the gun, and Laura knew that time was no longer theirs to waste. She also knew that she loved him. Fully, completely, and without reservation, she loved him.
It was a realisation she had been slowly coming to over the past few months after the poorly thought-out Cannes agreement had fallen apart. Her attempts to distance herself from him and protect herself had not been successful, and Laura couldn’t ignore the truth for much longer. She loved him, and even more frightening was the thought that there was a very good chance he loved her back. Despite his murky past, dodgy behavior, and inability to tell her in words how he felt, a good detective like her couldn’t ignore the evidence.
He'd stayed. For four long years, he had been there for her, right by her side. He’d been there for her after Bernice and Murphy left, after her home had been destroyed, after she’d broken up with him in Cannes, and after the agency had lost its license. He’d travelled halfway across the world in an attempt to discover his real name and offer it up as proof of his commitment. He’d done all that, asking for nothing more in return than her trust.
And last night, he’d almost lost his life in order to keep her safe. It was both humbling and terrifying in equal measure.
She glanced down, as he snuggled closer to her and smiled at the sight of him. This was definitely not how she envisioned Christmas morning, but in a strange way, she also knew she wouldn’t change a thing.
As that thought flashed through her mind, another, more terrifying one came right on its heels.
It wasn’t enough. Waking up next to each other in a police van wasn’t enough. Not anymore. A memory from one of their earliest cases flashed through her mind and she smiled slightly as it did. A meek little man who worked for the CIA had been in trouble. And, having taken notice of Mr. Steele’s mysterious background, he’d come to the conclusion that Steele worked for the company in the past and had come to them for help.
They’d found themselves in danger – on the run and had ended up spending the night in a car while they tried to decide their next move. She remembered the way his eyes had twinkled mischievously as he grinned and said, “Finally we’re sleeping together”.
It was the first time she had admitted out loud that she was afraid of how she felt for him. She’d attempted to cover it up by claiming it was Murphy who harboured those fears, but she knew he had seen right through her, and to his credit, hadn’t pushed.
In fact, the one thing he had consistently done right in their relationship was that he hadn’t ever pushed her for more than she was willing to give. Oh sure, he’d expressed frustration at her inability to trust him, but never once had he gotten angry with her for putting the breaks on things physically.
He seemed to understand inherently how important it was that they go at her pace. And up until last night, that pace had been slow and methodical.
Last night changed everything. Last night she watched a mad man point a gun at Mr. Steele. Last night she could have lost him in the blink of an eye.
And Laura wasn’t ready. There was so much they had yet to experience. She wanted to tell him how she felt without agenda or expectation. She wanted to let him know she trusted him. She wanted to make love to him, yes, but even more than that, she wanted to wake up with him.
And she wanted to spend Christmas day with him.
That hadn’t been the original plan, of course. Before the hostage situation, the plan had been to exchange gifts at the office Christmas party and then go back to his place to watch It’s A Wonderful Life before returning home to her loft and getting up early to spend Christmas Day with her sister Frances’ family.
She’d invited Mr. Steele, but he had politely refused, telling her that she should be with her family and he had a date with several classic Christmas films, including A Christmas Carol, Miracle on 34th Street, White Christmas, and The Bishop’s Wife. She had protested, not wanting to think about him spending Christmas alone, but he had insisted, telling her that Christmas was just another day for him.
She knew now that wasn’t entirely true. In addition to nearly losing him the night before, Laura had experienced a rare moment with him in his office in which he told her a story about one of the few Christmases from his childhood that he could recall. It was a harsh story he’d told that had involved him spending Christmas on the streets as a child. It had devastated her to hear him tell her so matter-of-factly about how he’d intended to steal a sled from a young boy in an attempt to find somewhere to sleep that night. Although he didn’t explicitly say it, she had the feeling that wasn’t the first Christmas he’d spent sleeping rough, and her heart broke for him as he wistfully narrated the memory of his ten-year-old self out in the cold, peering through the window at the family he would never have as they exchanged gifts at Christmas.
He'd laughed as he described himself throwing a rock through the window, but Laura knew that action had been one born of anger and rage – anger from the perspective of a young child who couldn’t understand why some got to spend Christmas in front of a roaring fire with their loved ones and others spent it sleeping out in the cold. She suspected he escaped into Christmas movies in an attempt to avoid thinking about how lonely he was.
And she vowed that he would no longer spend Christmas on his own. Her family had likely seen what had happened to the office buildings on the news. Laura knew she would have to call Frances and assure her that she was safe – an explosion, after all, had destroyed several of the top floors of the building.
She would use that to make up for lost time, starting with Christmas Day. She would explain to Frances that she hadn’t slept and that she planned to spend Christmas day catching up on her sleep and recovering from the ordeal. She knew her sister would accept that excuse without question, and though Laura did intend to take a short nap once she was cleared to return to the loft, she also knew that she did not intend on spending Christmas Day on her own.
And neither would he.