Hi guys, i'm new to fanfic, but have been an avid reader for years. With that in mind, please be kind; constructive critisim is welcomed with open arms
TITLE: Men of Steele
RATING: PG-13ish
KEYWORDS: LnC/Remington Steele cross over
SUMMARY: Set after the events of "pheromone my lovely",Lois is considers her conflicted feelings about Lex, clark,and Superman and their places in her life. Meanwhile Lex plots the destruction of Superman, and two Private Investigaters go in search of a pricless green gem...
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing; well that's not true i do own some stuff, like a car and a mortgage, but superman LL CK RS LH and all the rest belong to various media conglomerates. i'm just borrowing them for alittle fun . In short if you recongnize the name then it aint mine; conversly if you don't recognize the name it is.
AUTHOURS NOTES: This is the first in, what i hope, will be a multi part lnc/rs fanfic. For those who've never seen Remington Steele i will attempt to give Micheal Gleason's creation justice by synopsing it for you. Laura Holt is a stanford educated proffestional woman who has a flair for Private Investigation, so she set up Laura Holt Investigations in hopes of making it as a PI. The problem was that nobody would hire a woman private investigator, so she created a fictional boss named Remington Steele and bussiness took off from there. Fast forward a few years, and we have Ms. Holt facing off against a mysterious jewel theif, with whom she has an instant connection. Long story short she hires him to be the figure head of the company, and wacky 80's style detective show fun insues. in the end the enter a marrige of convienice and in my own little world of denial wound up happily ever after.
if you've not seen the show i highly recomend it.
feedback will be cherished, read to, and tucked in at night.
"Men of Steele" 1/?
Henry
Mi6patch@aol.com
Metropolis, New Troy
It was a cold November day, unseasonably cold, by metropolis’s standards. Snow flurries had begun to gather lightly on the hoods of cars; their gossamer light landings akin to the soft descent of a feather onto a grassy knoll. The snow had piled high enough to block the doors of many of the economy sized sedans that lined the streets, and the ice had covered over seventy five percent of the city over night.
On such mornings, as the wind blew and the sun shone in stark relief to the defiant snow; lovers held each other in warm embraces to keep out the cold and stave off the chill that permeated though the air. Fathers called in sick to spend time with the family, and children received what they’d been hoping for since winter had begun, snow days.
Kids ran at break neck speed down the street to gather ammunition for snowball fights. Skates were taken off the shelves and polished to a mirror sheen. Mothers bundled their young in layer after layer of wool, cotton and the like and perched themselves staunchly at the window to keep a close eye on the conditions of the weather, so at the first sight of a change they might call their children into the house in favor of warmer conditions, and hot coco.
While the children made the most of their current surroundings blissfully unaware of the dangers the environment provided. The adults went about the task of defrosting cars and streets, so that they could partake in the various rituals that dictated their day to day lives.
But even they, in all their infinite wisdom, could not help but look nostalgically upon the follies of youth, and the carefree innocence that allowed boys and girls to chuck snowballs, and make snow angles all while their parents toiled to get the car to start. And yelled themselves hoarse trying to get the super to fix the heaters. Thus was the price of growing older. In place of carefree innocence; you got a mortgage. Instead of snowmen and ice skating at the pond in Centennial Park; you braved the, more or less, de-iced streets in order to commute to a job that paid little and demanded a lot.
But regardless of the laughter of children and the mumbling of the adults the morning sun shone in all it’s brilliance over the denizens of Metropolis; as if to say “awaken and be merry. For life is short and there is far too much to do while we are alive.”
************************************************************************
Lois Lane, top investigative journalist for the Daily Planet, awoke that morning in a contemplative sort of mood. This was not uncommon, as she was often troubled with matters many (including all her immediate family) would consider obsessive. such thoughts included, but were not limited to: her next big lead, a scandal in the mayors office that guaranteed her that next Kerth award, whether her new diet incorporating bee’s pollen was really paying off (which she doubted, but continued anyway), and if said diet didn’t work; how could she convince Perry to let her write a scathing expose on the shameless, and often untrue, claims of “holistic healers…” or whatever they liked to be called.
And, while all of those thoughts were fine and good when nothing particularly important was on her mind; she had bigger fish to fry. That fish happened to be the current state of her love life (or lack thereof).
Ever since that horrible perfume disaster (which she’d rather forget) Lois had been experiencing, she wouldn’t call them feelings per se, but an odd sort affection for Lex Luthour; this was very disconcerting as she was (in her own mind) the love of Superman’s life. That was a whole other kettle of fish in itself. Superman having just declared his love for her proceeded to lay a particularly soul shattering kiss on her; all while Lex threatened to become violently ill. She supposed the pheromone spray had something to do with it but still... and then there was Clark now he was a conundrum wrapped in a riddle covered in a conspiracy. Not that there was anything wrong with Clark as it were, in fact when you got to know him he was a sweet guy. It was hard for people to resist that farm boy charm he’d proved that the moment he set foot in the city of Metropolis; even she found that it worked on her under the proper circumstances. But this was beside the point, she could hardly picture her self as Mrs. Clark Kent wife to a smalltime greenhorn, who happened to get lucky on a sappy theater piece.
How quickly we forget Lois. Her annoying inner voice squealed. If you recall, you were two seconds away from hauling Kent down the aisle of the nearest church.
<It was the pheromone compound> she angrily spat <I had no control!>.
Yes but the good doctor said quite plainly that an attraction had to already exist in order for the perfume to take affect. So that means you’re attracted to Clark. Lois couldn’t believe her own traitorous thoughts, and blanched at the thought<Clark Kent ha! You must be joking.>
If your not attracted to him how do you explain your reaction?
<Temporary insanity, I’m just thanking my lucky stars that I didn’t end up in the copy room with Ralph. Now that would have been horrible; it would have been beyond horrible.>
You know Lois denial isn’t exactly an attractive quality in a woman
<Oh shut up, and while I’m at it, why am I talking to myself?>
Lois pondered this new development for a moment; did she think Clark was handsome? She definitely would concede he wasn’t unattractive. Lots of women seemed to appreciate his looks. In fact Cat Grant had been throwing herself, quite literally, at him since the moment he waltzed through the doors of the Daily Planet; baggy suit and thick glasses to boot. Not to mention Dr. Baines’ open flirtation with him during the space shuttle investigation, and then there was Tony Taylor, but it was best not to think about that she decided quickly remebering how angry she’d been that night. It was best to just forget Tony Taylor even existed.
Why? She asked herself sardonically could it be because you were jealous her. Lois, as was usual when it came to her true feelings, decided to ignore that nagging little logical stab she received, and instead decided to focus on the present.
<well maybe I find Clark somewhat attractive in a geek sheik, sort of way. So what! Superman is 100 times more attractive then Clark and I wasn’t throwing myself at him. Quite the opposite in fact, Superman was the one who declared his love for me, and then proceeded to kiss ME senseless.>
No her prickly inner voice commented; you’re the one who forced him into that particular lip lock, and while were on the subject of El Hombre de Acero; why is it you weren’t head over heels in love with him? You do LOVE him don’t you? Why o why did you find yourself hanging all over Kent and not Superman? Lois again decided to ignore that particularly damning piece of logic, not wanting to analyze her attraction toward Clark for fear of what she might find.
Ok, BUT if you don’t find Kent “attractive” then why is he the star of so many of your more ,shall we say, steamy dreams?
<He is not!> she denied vehemently all the while knowing it was the gospel truth. Ever since Clark had showed up at the door of his hotel room in nothing but a plain white cotton towel dripping so uncerimonsly on the floor of that flea bag motel; he’d been competing with superman for the staring role in her imagination as she slept, and sometimes (to her total embarrassment) while she was wide awake, and at the office no less.
It surprised her that she didn’t have to many dreams of this nature about Lex. Mostly her dreams of him consisted of rolling in large vats of money like that cartoon duck uncle Scrooge, and showing up to his office at LexCorp in her outfit from the Metro club (the chicken one) declaring that everything the club served was good, but she wasn’t on the menu; best not to analyze that either.
Lex, Clark, and Superman, three men completely different in every way; from the way that they dressed to the way they spoke, but all three alike in the sense that they were all, in one way or another, causing her a major headache.
First Superman; The Man of Steele, the big blue boy scout, who’d swooped in and swept her, quite literally, off of her feet. He was perfect. The archetype of all things good and right he didn’t, to her knowledge, have a single flaw. Maybe that’s the problem Lane; he’s too perfect.
Then there was Lex. He had made no secret of his attraction to her in the preceding months. Many was the day she ascended the steps of the Daily Planet bull room to find her desk littered with invitations to balls, operas, fancy dress parties, plays, and what seemed like entire florist shops; all from the illustrious Lex Luthour. At first she was reluctant to consider these feelings as any thing more then the affects of the perfume, but when she sat down and finally considered it she realized something; Lex could have had any woman he wanted. Of all the woman in all the world and all the gin joints; why would Lex pick her? Unless, of course, he had some underlying feelings of toward her he'd been keeping to himself all this time.
Of course there was the huge elephant in the room when it came to her and Lex, money.
How could she assimilate her life to accommodate him? Or visa versa, Lois enjoyed going to balls and extravagant parties every once in a while sure, but if they got involved surely those sorts of things would be compulsory for the girlfriend of Lex Luthour. It wasn’t impossible to imagine herself living in the lap of luxury, and being a Luthour gal, but it wasn’t her. Lex would expect a constant companion. Someone who was, at the drop of a hat, able to board a plane for Greece or Malta or the Swiss Alps, wherever it was that the extravagantly rich spent their leisure time and money.
Would he expect her to quit her job?
She didn’t think she could live without being a journalist; it was her life’s blood. Jimmy had often told her she bled ink, and while it wasn’t a flattering metaphor for her capacity for human emotion, it was a fairly accurate description of the way she felt about being a reporter. She decided then and there that if things ever got serious with between them she’d make it clear that leaving her job was not an option. The Planet was her life, and Perry, Jimmy, Clark, and even Cat where her extended family; losing any of them was completely unacceptable, and she wouldn’t even consider it.
So in a nutshell; until she figured out if Lex would support her career, he was on standby.
Finally there was Clark.
Clark “Smallville” Kent; was by the very definition of the word a hack, and what was worse he was a hack from Nowheresville. True he had some redeeming qualities; for instance he was a gentleman in the truest sense of the word. He opened doors for ladies, stood when one entered a room, and was at all times very respectful of her, except for the time he dropped her in that dumpster, or when he’d sent her on a wild goose chase for Superman’s spaceship through the Metropolis sewage reclamation center, but he had profusely apologized for those incidents and had even bought her dinner as a peace offering for the incident at the Metro Club.
Of all the men in her life Clark was the most normal, but the least predictable. He was always running off at a moments notice giving lame excuses like “Sorry Lois, I can’t stay I have to uh…feed my neighbors cat.” Or “Sorry Lois, but my Aunt’s sister’s cousin is having surgery and I have to send her some flowers.” and of course her all time favorite “Gee Lois I really have to go my “Cheese of the Month” Subscription should be her by now, and I should probably go get it.”
"Cheese of the month"?! Really. How dull could he think she was; did he honestly think she was so galactically stupid that she wouldn’t figure something else was going on?
Whatever Clark’s reasoning for his disappearing act, she was certain she’d get to the bottom of it sooner or later; they didn’t call her mad dog lane for nothing.
In the mean time, the day was quickly fading away from her; reluctantly she rolled out of bed, and padded sleepily toward her bathroom.
Today would be a good day if she had to get through three battalions of Marines and a Navy SEAL hit squad for it to be so. Her muddled feelings regarding Clark, Lex, and Superman would have to wait until she got off work, for now she would put on her brave face and set off to face the music. One woman against the world.
Los Angeles, California same day 7:00 am pacific standard time.
It was a typical late fall day in the LA; kids were just waking up to go to school, and they begrudgingly wiped the sleep from their eyes as the unrelenting sun shone through their windows.
It was on this selfsame day; that Laura Holt-Steele, co-owner and founder of Remington Steele Private Investigations, sat down at her kitchen table with the monthly expense reports. Stirring her coffee counterclockwise she added a packet of her normal sugar substitute, and a spattering of cream to taste. With a deep sigh she took her first sip. So this is what heaven feels like; she thought contentedly, as she flipped through the file folder before her scanning the pages thoroughly for over expenditures.
Laura Holt-Steele had been happily married now for almost 6 years, and so far it was not the nightmare she had envisioned all those years ago as a, brilliant but slightly cynical college student, at Stanford.
Her new found outlook on married life was due, in large part, to the dark-haired blue- eyed lanky Irishman lying fast asleep in the master bedroom.
Remington Steele was the parallel of everything Laura had looked for in a man. He was chivalrous to the point of chauvinism. He was not formally educated, but he more then made up for that in street smarts. He was brash and confident to an absurd degree, and he had an annoying habit of pointing out all of her flaws at especially inconvenient times. He had an encyclopedic knowledge of cinema history, and would often pull out movie annotations when a particularly mystifying case was mulling around in his mind, and refusing all efforts to be solved.
Ever since the mysterious man with no name had taken on the mantel of Remington Steele, her life had been turned upside down and inside out. At first it had bothered her to no end that her strict by the book existence had been usurped by his dangerous, “fly by the seat of your pants” approach to everything, but as the years went on she learned to accept, and even condone certain aspects of his behavior.
Laura stretched, and in doing so exposed a creamy expanse of her freckle dusted shoulder; she stared out the window of her kitchen and gazed nostalgically at the sun.
Her life with Remington was far from perfect, they argued often because when it came to client issues they hardly ever say eye to eye, she preferred nice juicy murders while he was more of a collection and finder’s fee type of guy. Deep down, she was ashamed to admit, she still harbored the fear that he would up and leave her one day, and make off for parts unknown never to be seen again. It was an irrational fear, she knew, as Remington had reassured her over and over again in the form of words and actions that his love and commitment to her was eternal, but sometimes she couldn’t help but feel she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Unbeknownst to her, the subject of her musings had been gazing contentedly at her from the doorway admiring the way the sun reflected off her long auburn tresses, and the smooth patch of skin that was peeking at him through her terry cloth robe begging for his undivided attention. Not wanting to disappoint her poor abused limb Remington crept slowly toward Laura, careful not to alert her to his presence. In one fell swoop he wrapped his arms around his Laura, and planted a feather light kiss upon her uncovered flesh.
Laura was so wrapped up in her musings, that when she felt the smooth caress of skin upon her own, she nearly jumped.
“Easy love,” Remington cooed “It’s just me. I woke up, but you were gone; I figured you’d be out running, but to my immense pleasure I found you sitting here.”
“Miracles never cease eh Mr. Steele?” Laura inquired softly, her own slender arms already entwined with her husband’s more muscular ones.
“Indeed they don’t Ms. Holt” he agreed, and began raining more gossamer light kisses across her shoulder moving his way slowly up to the sensitive skin behind her ear.
Laura sighed blissfully, “We have work today Mr. Steele; it’s a very important client and…mmm we can’t be late. Mildred called with the details last night.”
“Always this obsession with detail Laura”, Remington lightly chided, as his mouth made contact with the side of her neck; this produced another soft sigh from Laura which he took as encouragement. “I really must break you of that habit love.” With that declaration he captured her mouth and feasted upon it like a condemned man at his last meal. Laura sighed and parted her lips in silent invitation. Remington, always the gentleman, accepted.
The sun rose to its apex in the California sky, and shone iridescently on the Holt-Steele household .The two lovers moved slowly in contrast to the accelerated pace of the city, and it would be quite a while before Laura and Remington made any moves toward the office.
