#steele day

Steele Day: A short little ficlet for y’all. I wrote this forever ago, and I think it’s the first Remington Steele Fic I ever wrote... a cute au

The young boy stood with his hands in his pockets; only twelve years old, and already a master at his trade. He walked over to the sea of books, and picked one up, pretending to take interest in it. When, in actuality, he was discreetly watching a young girl in a blue dress. He studied her: her hair was in a ponytail, strands of hair falling from the crooked blue ribbon. Her white socks were uneven with mud splotches, and her black shoes had scuff marks. Her legs and arms were covered with scrapes and cuts, a sign of a very busy young girl.  He aged her at about seven or eight, and the lady with her about thirty five or so.

The lady was not in his interest; he had been studying her for a while now. She was too prim, proper, and... pointed for him to work his "charm". But her daughter..... her daughter was perfect. She never seemed too focused, she was always finding something to climb on or run through, she danced through the aisles. Frankly, he admired the young girl's spunk and spirit.

Putting the book down, he walked over to where she had planted herself. She rocked on her heels as she inspected a well-worn book. He recognized that one: a book about cats that had been on the shelf for years. He wondered why no one bought it; he was never a cat person, but he had run into cat people. He thought they would have quickly snatched that book. Shaking his head, he returned to his mission.

The twelve year old stood about five feet away from the girl, inspecting a book he cared nothing for. He glanced at the girl, her blue purse hanging open and kiltered on her small shoulder. He put the book down when she smiled and giggled, clearly immersed in the book. Walking behind her, he bumped shoulders, making her jump.

"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry. Excuse me," he patted her shoulder, not wanting to linger longer than he had to. He walked to a part of the shop where he would be easily hidden, but also where he could hear things.

"Come now, dear!" The girl's mother called. "We've got to pick up Francis from her lessons!"

"Mamma, can I get this book?" She held up the cat book, "it's only three dollars, and I've got five."

The lady considered, "very well. It'll keep you busy for a while."

She smiled widely and picked up her purse. Suddenly, her face fell, "I thought I had my wallet...."

The boy felt something in his stomach. As if someone had punched him, the air was gone from his lungs. He wondered what the feeling could be. 

The girl's eyes welled with tears, "I'm sure I had it! I'm sure! Francis made sure. I had it, I know I did!"

The lady took pity on her daughter, "oh, honey. Come now, stop your crying," she squatted to hug her daughter, "I'll buy the cat book, and we can get you a new wallet. Francis will take more pictures for you, and I'll refund the five dollars."

She nodded, sniffling. "Okay, Mamma."

He looked at the wallet in his hands. He counted five dollars; he saw the pictures. One looked like it was from a birthday party, one was of a cat, and one was of the young girl with possibly her sister. That same air-knocking feeling panged his gut, making him tap the wallet on his hand. He sighed and searched the shop for the young girl.

"Ah, excuse me."

The girl turned around, making him feel even more like a jerk. Tears still ran down her freckled face, and she looked like she had lost a best friend. She sniffed, "yes?"

"I believe this belongs to you? You, Ah, dropped it back there," he nodded in the vague direction, and handed her the coveted possession.

She gasped and grabbed the leather from his hands. She looked inside, inspecting it: everything was in its rightful place. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

He smiled, "make sure that purse stays shut, hm?"

She nodded, "I will! Thank you!" Turning around, she called, "Mamma! Mamma! He found it! Look! Look!"

The smile on his face grew as he watched the interaction. Sometimes, he wished he had a real family..... but he didn't, and he never would. He shook his head and disappeared; disappeared back to the life he had created for himself.