Summary: A double drabble (200 words exactly) in response to the Written_In_Steele springboard of using the words "golf ball," "wine" and "costume" in a story.
Laura had wined him and dined him. Now she was putting the moves on him.
"Absolutely not," Remington reaffirmed.
She leaned closer. Tugged his tie. "You're going to make me do it alone?"
"I'll definitely be involved," he said. "But I refuse to wear that."
"I've got one, too."
"You'd look good in it." He stroked his palm down her back.
She allowed him to dip a bit lower and linger a bit longer than normal.
He grinned. "I'll sell souvenirs. T-shirts, autographed photos, golf balls with tiny 'A's on them..." He kissed her.
Laura broke the kiss. "That's hardly what I'd consider 'undercover.'"
"I'm not dressing up as Atomic Man."
"It's a personal favor for Maxwell," she said. "He's convinced his stalker will be at the convention. We can move around more freely if we blend in."
"Putting on a bright red costume and cape is hardly what I'd consider 'blending in,'" he countered.
Laura pressed closer. Her finger traced an "A" on his chest. "I'd consider it a personal favor."
He seemed unswayed.
She kissed him, then slipped from his grasp.
"How about a preview of my costume?"
He arched an eyebrow.
"It's skin-tight," she purred.
Summary: In response to the Written_In_Steele springboard to "complete the scene." (The required-to-use springboard scene is in italics.)
Remington Steele stood pacing.
She had been in there a very long time.
There were so many thoughts going through his head; he didn't know whether to be excited or scared to death. He sat down and thought about what had brought him to this point. Life had a way of spinning in directions never really considered -- he'd certainly never imagined being in this particular situation.
Suddenly, he looked up as the door opened. He searched her face and tried to read the expression he saw there...
Seduction. Yes, definitely seduction.
Her lids were lowered, her lips slightly parted in a sultry grin. Her red outfit was form fitting, accentuating every wondrous curve of her body. She stepped forward with a purposeful swing of her hips.
In front of him she stopped. She raised her high-heeled foot to the coffee table and dropped a hand to her hip. She straightened her back, pushing her breasts forward, letting him admire the view.
She crooked her gloved finger at him. He willingly rose to his feet and approached -- knowing his jaw was hanging loose and his eyes were wide. She took him into her arms. As she kissed him, she draped some fabric across his shoulders.
"Your turn," she breathed into his mouth. "Get dressed. Then we can undress."
"Laura..." he sighed.
"Not Laura." She raised a finger to her face and tapped the red cowl there. "Atomic Woman."
Author's Note: I don't usually do sequels, but this one just seemed to fit the bill. It's helpful to have read the prequel "Holt Tight."