NOTE: I do not know everything there is to know about rockets. Under the circumstances, I don't think it matters. After all, the actual writers for the Avengers didn't knew everything either. So if something seems so incredibly implausible, I must remind you that this story is meant to be enjoyed and not analysed until the whole story loses its charm. Thank You.
ANOTHER NOTE: I've taken the actual dialogue from the tag of the Avengers episode "Bizarre," and incorporated it into my teaser. If anything looks familiar, that's why.
The AVENGERS
A large rocket stood in the heart of London, an incongruity that baffled all bystanders. Inside the massive structure, a curvaceous woman in a white dress with a lace collar and cuffs stood examining the rocket's controls. A tall man in a satin, plum tuxedo flitted from one control to another. He was so intent, he didn't noticed that the lady was following him.
The two simultaneously peered out of the window then gazed at each other. "Like it?" the distinguish man, Steed, inquired hopefully.
"Very, complicated, isn't it?" the woman replied.
"Steed? Tara?" a husky male voice shouted from outside.
Steed exhaled in aggravation as he murmured to Miss Tara, "Uh oh, bit of a squash!" To the other male he managed to say politely, "Mother!" He and Tara efficiently assisted the obese man with the woman's title in climbing into the rocket.
Mother was the head of a spy organisation, where Steed and Tara both worked as very successful and celebrated agents. Due to an injury, Mother rode in a wheelchair. It also helped him move around without using his chubby legs. "I say," he began, "splendid achievement, Steed! Splendid!"
"Thank you very much." Steed was very much in earnest with that remark.
Mother steered his wheelchair around in a semi-circle, drinking in the flashing lights from the numerous buttons. His wheelchair barely missed colliding with a bolted down table laden with a bucket of ice, champagne, and several glasses. "Hard to believe you assembled it yourself."
Steed was not one to be modest, so Tara was surprised when he replied, "Well the instruction booklet is very explicit."
Mother was in total awe of the sky rocket, and awe was not one of the emotions he usually displayed. Once again, Miss Tara King wondered why her companions were acting uncharacteristically. "Yes, but a thing like this-and in your own backyard-it must have been expensive," Mother stammered.
Steed chuckled almost ruefully. "I saved up a bit." He scanned the red interior and multicoloured lights. "I've always wanted one of these."
Mother swerved his wheelchair to the exit and was about to roll out when Tara checked him. "Where are you going?"
Mother informed them that he was going outside. "Outside?" Steed repeated incredulously as he grabbed his superior's arm.
"Yes, I want to take a snap of it for my album."
Amused at Mother's hobby, Steed and Miss King smiled as he expertly wheeled to the front of the rocket. His camera, which had been hanging around his neck, was quickly removed and used. John Steed and Tara watched this whole procedure from the window.
Tara finished gazing at Mother's antics and asked, "Where do you light the blue paper?"
Steed chuckled knowingly, his hands twisting several dials. "You don't; all you do is press that button there."
A red button was positioned right underneath the window. Impulsively, Tara pushed the knob, while inquiring, "This one?"
"Yes!"
All of a sudden, there was an explosion of sound and colour. The rocket shook and started to elevate off the ground, tipping Miss King and Steed off balance. "No!" Steed cried in alarm, but it was too late. The rocket was ascending at a rapid speed on its way to space.
Meekly, Tara spoke over the clamour of the engines. "How do you stop it?"
Steed paused to meditate then smiled ironically. "That part of the kit arrives next week."
Tara mouthed the word "oh," her eyes not daring to meet Steed, the man she loved.
Over the intercom, Mother's boisterous voice bellowed, "Steed, I demand you bring that thing down at once!" Steed had forgotten he had given a portable intercom box to Mother; it was like a walkie-talkie, except the rocket was the other end.
In mock annoyance, Steed repeated, "Demand?" Even as he spoke, his arms were reaching for the champagne bottle. He opened it with one quick movement of the wrists.
Anxious, but still retrieving two glasses for a drink, Tara questioned, "Can you get us down?" The alcohol was sure to soothe her nerves, even if her comrade's news did not.
Steed chuckled as he answered, "Eventually, yes." To himself, he added, "At least I think I can."
If Tara heard his second comment, she chose to ignore it. Instead she spoke with a slight tremor in her voice. "Eventually?"
John Steed poured them each a glass of champagne before replying, "There's no hurry," he stopped to stare into her pale, blue eyes, "is there?"
Miss King relaxed as she realised what Steed was implying. "None at all," she assured him, her voice sultry. The duo had been inches apart, but somehow they managed to slink even closer, their eyes interlocked, daring the other to make the first move. The champagne was all but forgotten.
Mother had been staring agape at the receding rocket. Eyes still bulging, he pried them away for a moment to gaze at a large crowd that had gathered since the rocket's lift-off. In the midst of the group was his personal assistant Rhonda, silent, extremely tall, and very blonde. She actually made a surprised gurgle in the back of her throat as she spotted the dot that was presumably the rocket.
Mother raised his voice to the mass and declared, "They'll be back; you can depend on it." Suddenly, he realised what dreadful mischief his two friends could get into up in space. "They're unchaperoned up there!"
Blown it All Sky High
Steed Becomes a Rocket Man
Tara Takes a Trip to the Moon
Tara stared dreamily at the forty plus year old that was ogling her shapely figure. "Oh, Steed, I never thought we'd be alone together." She reached out to touch his cheek and was almost knocked off her feet as the rocket rumbled uncontrollably. Miss King managed to grab the table for support just in time.
Steed looked puzzled as he answered, "What about when we've been alone together at our flats?" He gripped the screwed down table with an iron strength.
"Yes, but there was always the chance that someone, or something would interrupt us. Not up here!" Tara giggled flirtatiously, bracing herself for the next vibration.
"Oh, I see your point, TARA!" The last word was more of a scream, for Steed was pushed into one of the control panels by the rocket's great turbulence. "This must be why all astronauts remain sitting during the launch!" he shouted.
Quickly he grabbed Tara's arm and pushed her into one of the two seats onboard. Her champagne glass was knocked from her hand, shattering into incalculable pieces on the floor. The champagne that had been in the glass splashed on her dress. After the initial shock of staining her brand new gown, Miss King was able to scrutinise her surroundings.
"A rocket built for two, eh?" she asked coyly.
Mr. Steed struggled into the other chair, buckled and nodded his head. "Now you'd better buckle up, because according to my manual, there is no gravity in space."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Tara demanded as she strapped herself in.
"It means that all objects that are not tied down will float!"
Tara was about to comment on the absurdity of the idea when she noticed that the rocket was no longer shaking. "We must be in space!" She began unfastening her safety belt, so she could get to the window and look out.
"No, Tara, remember what I told you about zero gravity?" Steed's warning was a second too late; Miss King had freed herself and was experiencing first hand the world of no gravity.
She rose off the ground, her dress billowing upwards. Hastily, she pushed the skirt down, only to have it float up again. "This is utterly ridiculous!" she ejaculated as her body floated toward the table with champagne. "I can't control my movements!"
"Well, maybe if you weren't in that frilly dress . . ." Steed began.
"You told me to dress up nicely because you had finished building the rocket and wanted to celebrate. You didn't tell me that there was no gravity up here! I'm a spy; I don't learn about these things unless they're important to a case. The least you could have done before I came over to your flat was to tell me all those details about life in space."
Angered, Steed replied, "If you hadn't pushed that infernal button, we would still be on earth!"
"Well, why'd you build this thing if you weren't planning to fly it?"
Miss King's voice had reached an irritated pitch. She tried to grab on to something to steady herself, but she only ended up knocking over the champagne bottle, which was now soaring nearby her along with the remaining glasses and ice bucket. As soon the bottle tipped over, the liquid dumped out and began floating as well. In fact the champagne had turned into little liquid beads! "Now we have no champagne, and I'm stuck up here in the rafters!" She clutched her skirt, managing to keep it down.
"Hey, at least you didn't get the rest of the champagne on your dress!" Steed joked. The glare he received was enough to make him realise it was not the time nor place to make wisecracks. Sighing, he unfastened himself and drifted out of his chair. With all the effort he could muster, he tried to move toward Agent King. However, his energy was soon spent and he allowed himself to sail across the rocket in the opposite direction of Tara.
The ice bucket bumped into Tara, and she tried to move it out of the way. In order to carry out this task, she removed her hands from her skirt. Immediately, the skirt fluttered upwards, revealing more than she thought was necessary. Tara King shrieked, somehow propelled herself backwards, and rammed into the wall. Her hair, which had been twisted in many sections and pinned around her head, had come partly undone.
Steed raised an amused eyebrow at her degrading predicament, but politely turned around so Tara could get herself together. He started practising how to manoeuvre without the help of gravity. "It's like swimming," he called to her over his shoulder, "except it's through the air." He demonstrated by doggy paddling a few centimetres.
"That sounds extremely helpful," Miss King mumbled. Nevertheless, she tried the backstroke in the air, and found that she was able to travel a little more gracefully. She didn't get very far, but that was beside the point. After a few minutes, she felt herself relaxing. "This is quite fun when you get the hang of it!" she cried.
Steed whirled around to see what she was doing. Tara was performing the sidestroke, her skirts were in the air again, and her hair was slowly unravelling. But the smile on her face was sweet and sincere, and Steed thought she'd never looked more beautiful.
************
"This is Mother calling Steed, Mother calling Steed. Do you read me?" Mother bellowed into his end of the intercom. He addressed Rhonda with the inquisition, "Why doesn't he answer? We had a clean reception just a minute ago."
Suddenly, Rhonda's blue eyes grew melancholy. Mother scoffed at her before replying, "I know what you're thinking, and I can tell you with utmost certainty that they did not crash. It would be all over the news if they had." Mother thought briefly then demanded, "Get me to the nearest television."
They were still outside Steed's apartment complex with a cluster of strangers. The nearest TV was in Steed's own flat, so Rhonda hurriedly wheeled Mother there. Once they were situated inside, Mother rolled himself over to one of Steed's newer acquisitions, the television set. He switched it on to the news programme, where a reporter was speaking about the drought they were having.
All at once the anchorman cleared his throat and began, "We have a breaking news report. An unidentified rocket made an unexpected lift-off in the area of Stable Mews. Our best scientists are fairly certain it is a rival ship, and they're hoping to be able to talk rationally with the enemy. If the enemy refuses to cooperate, who knows what might happen.
"Eyewitnesses have confirmed that there were at least two people in the rocket at its time of lift-off. So far contact with the passengers has been impossible, since the communication system seems to be shut off. Why the enemy has decided to test their rocket in our country is an enigma to all high officials at this point. Some think it is a Communistic plot-"
Mother turned off the telly before he could hear the rest. "This is appalling. Nobody has been able to contact them, especially not me! When I think of poor little Tara-and Steed-all alone up there, I get emotional!"
Rhonda stared at him disbelievingly. She seemed to say, "You never get emotional."
"Take me to spy headquarters at once. We must speak with Father, Grandma, and possibly even," Mother gulped, "Grandpa."
***********
At the intervening time, over by Primrose Hill, another person was watching the news. As soon as the special report ended, a slender hand clicked a high tech remote control. The telly turned off, and a slim and tall woman rose from her seat. She entered her bedroom and crumpled onto one of the twin size beds.
She didn't need to think about him. She had almost succeeded in living a normal life without him, playing the role of doting wife to a man-a man who was home 1/3 of the time. She rolled over onto her side, her auburn locks caressing her cheek before lying to rest over her entire face.
"Steed, how could you be so careless?" she whispered. Yes, she knew it was Steed up in that rocket. Who else living at Stable Mews had so much free time and money to buy a rocket and ride it? But who was the other person up there with him? "It has to be that lovely creature with the ample bosom, bad fashions, and extremely young face," she muttered to herself.
The sight of the young, brunette woman was enough to make her ill. "No, I won't think about him and her, or that silly rocket. Steed's a spy, and so is his partner. They'll think of a way to get down and to explain this mess to the authorities."
Another voice inside her screamed, "But, Emma, you know people in high places, you know scientists. You could explain everything to them-and help Steed in the process," the voice added.
It was useless to ignore the fact that she missed John Steed. She missed his warm smile, gentlemanly manners, the sometimes naughty jokes he played, his coming to rescue her. Her resolve to stop thinking about him dissolved as she thought of the good times they had had. Determinedly, she rose from the bed and entered her large closet to find something appropriate to wear for visiting rocket scientists.
"Well, my dear friend, it's time I rescue you for a change. I'll get you down from space if it's the last thing I do." To herself she muttered the words that Steed had used earlier, "At least I think I can."
To Be Continued!
ANOTHER NOTE: I've taken the actual dialogue from the tag of the Avengers episode "Bizarre," and incorporated it into my teaser. If anything looks familiar, that's why.
The AVENGERS
A large rocket stood in the heart of London, an incongruity that baffled all bystanders. Inside the massive structure, a curvaceous woman in a white dress with a lace collar and cuffs stood examining the rocket's controls. A tall man in a satin, plum tuxedo flitted from one control to another. He was so intent, he didn't noticed that the lady was following him.
The two simultaneously peered out of the window then gazed at each other. "Like it?" the distinguish man, Steed, inquired hopefully.
"Very, complicated, isn't it?" the woman replied.
"Steed? Tara?" a husky male voice shouted from outside.
Steed exhaled in aggravation as he murmured to Miss Tara, "Uh oh, bit of a squash!" To the other male he managed to say politely, "Mother!" He and Tara efficiently assisted the obese man with the woman's title in climbing into the rocket.
Mother was the head of a spy organisation, where Steed and Tara both worked as very successful and celebrated agents. Due to an injury, Mother rode in a wheelchair. It also helped him move around without using his chubby legs. "I say," he began, "splendid achievement, Steed! Splendid!"
"Thank you very much." Steed was very much in earnest with that remark.
Mother steered his wheelchair around in a semi-circle, drinking in the flashing lights from the numerous buttons. His wheelchair barely missed colliding with a bolted down table laden with a bucket of ice, champagne, and several glasses. "Hard to believe you assembled it yourself."
Steed was not one to be modest, so Tara was surprised when he replied, "Well the instruction booklet is very explicit."
Mother was in total awe of the sky rocket, and awe was not one of the emotions he usually displayed. Once again, Miss Tara King wondered why her companions were acting uncharacteristically. "Yes, but a thing like this-and in your own backyard-it must have been expensive," Mother stammered.
Steed chuckled almost ruefully. "I saved up a bit." He scanned the red interior and multicoloured lights. "I've always wanted one of these."
Mother swerved his wheelchair to the exit and was about to roll out when Tara checked him. "Where are you going?"
Mother informed them that he was going outside. "Outside?" Steed repeated incredulously as he grabbed his superior's arm.
"Yes, I want to take a snap of it for my album."
Amused at Mother's hobby, Steed and Miss King smiled as he expertly wheeled to the front of the rocket. His camera, which had been hanging around his neck, was quickly removed and used. John Steed and Tara watched this whole procedure from the window.
Tara finished gazing at Mother's antics and asked, "Where do you light the blue paper?"
Steed chuckled knowingly, his hands twisting several dials. "You don't; all you do is press that button there."
A red button was positioned right underneath the window. Impulsively, Tara pushed the knob, while inquiring, "This one?"
"Yes!"
All of a sudden, there was an explosion of sound and colour. The rocket shook and started to elevate off the ground, tipping Miss King and Steed off balance. "No!" Steed cried in alarm, but it was too late. The rocket was ascending at a rapid speed on its way to space.
Meekly, Tara spoke over the clamour of the engines. "How do you stop it?"
Steed paused to meditate then smiled ironically. "That part of the kit arrives next week."
Tara mouthed the word "oh," her eyes not daring to meet Steed, the man she loved.
Over the intercom, Mother's boisterous voice bellowed, "Steed, I demand you bring that thing down at once!" Steed had forgotten he had given a portable intercom box to Mother; it was like a walkie-talkie, except the rocket was the other end.
In mock annoyance, Steed repeated, "Demand?" Even as he spoke, his arms were reaching for the champagne bottle. He opened it with one quick movement of the wrists.
Anxious, but still retrieving two glasses for a drink, Tara questioned, "Can you get us down?" The alcohol was sure to soothe her nerves, even if her comrade's news did not.
Steed chuckled as he answered, "Eventually, yes." To himself, he added, "At least I think I can."
If Tara heard his second comment, she chose to ignore it. Instead she spoke with a slight tremor in her voice. "Eventually?"
John Steed poured them each a glass of champagne before replying, "There's no hurry," he stopped to stare into her pale, blue eyes, "is there?"
Miss King relaxed as she realised what Steed was implying. "None at all," she assured him, her voice sultry. The duo had been inches apart, but somehow they managed to slink even closer, their eyes interlocked, daring the other to make the first move. The champagne was all but forgotten.
Mother had been staring agape at the receding rocket. Eyes still bulging, he pried them away for a moment to gaze at a large crowd that had gathered since the rocket's lift-off. In the midst of the group was his personal assistant Rhonda, silent, extremely tall, and very blonde. She actually made a surprised gurgle in the back of her throat as she spotted the dot that was presumably the rocket.
Mother raised his voice to the mass and declared, "They'll be back; you can depend on it." Suddenly, he realised what dreadful mischief his two friends could get into up in space. "They're unchaperoned up there!"
Blown it All Sky High
Steed Becomes a Rocket Man
Tara Takes a Trip to the Moon
Tara stared dreamily at the forty plus year old that was ogling her shapely figure. "Oh, Steed, I never thought we'd be alone together." She reached out to touch his cheek and was almost knocked off her feet as the rocket rumbled uncontrollably. Miss King managed to grab the table for support just in time.
Steed looked puzzled as he answered, "What about when we've been alone together at our flats?" He gripped the screwed down table with an iron strength.
"Yes, but there was always the chance that someone, or something would interrupt us. Not up here!" Tara giggled flirtatiously, bracing herself for the next vibration.
"Oh, I see your point, TARA!" The last word was more of a scream, for Steed was pushed into one of the control panels by the rocket's great turbulence. "This must be why all astronauts remain sitting during the launch!" he shouted.
Quickly he grabbed Tara's arm and pushed her into one of the two seats onboard. Her champagne glass was knocked from her hand, shattering into incalculable pieces on the floor. The champagne that had been in the glass splashed on her dress. After the initial shock of staining her brand new gown, Miss King was able to scrutinise her surroundings.
"A rocket built for two, eh?" she asked coyly.
Mr. Steed struggled into the other chair, buckled and nodded his head. "Now you'd better buckle up, because according to my manual, there is no gravity in space."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Tara demanded as she strapped herself in.
"It means that all objects that are not tied down will float!"
Tara was about to comment on the absurdity of the idea when she noticed that the rocket was no longer shaking. "We must be in space!" She began unfastening her safety belt, so she could get to the window and look out.
"No, Tara, remember what I told you about zero gravity?" Steed's warning was a second too late; Miss King had freed herself and was experiencing first hand the world of no gravity.
She rose off the ground, her dress billowing upwards. Hastily, she pushed the skirt down, only to have it float up again. "This is utterly ridiculous!" she ejaculated as her body floated toward the table with champagne. "I can't control my movements!"
"Well, maybe if you weren't in that frilly dress . . ." Steed began.
"You told me to dress up nicely because you had finished building the rocket and wanted to celebrate. You didn't tell me that there was no gravity up here! I'm a spy; I don't learn about these things unless they're important to a case. The least you could have done before I came over to your flat was to tell me all those details about life in space."
Angered, Steed replied, "If you hadn't pushed that infernal button, we would still be on earth!"
"Well, why'd you build this thing if you weren't planning to fly it?"
Miss King's voice had reached an irritated pitch. She tried to grab on to something to steady herself, but she only ended up knocking over the champagne bottle, which was now soaring nearby her along with the remaining glasses and ice bucket. As soon the bottle tipped over, the liquid dumped out and began floating as well. In fact the champagne had turned into little liquid beads! "Now we have no champagne, and I'm stuck up here in the rafters!" She clutched her skirt, managing to keep it down.
"Hey, at least you didn't get the rest of the champagne on your dress!" Steed joked. The glare he received was enough to make him realise it was not the time nor place to make wisecracks. Sighing, he unfastened himself and drifted out of his chair. With all the effort he could muster, he tried to move toward Agent King. However, his energy was soon spent and he allowed himself to sail across the rocket in the opposite direction of Tara.
The ice bucket bumped into Tara, and she tried to move it out of the way. In order to carry out this task, she removed her hands from her skirt. Immediately, the skirt fluttered upwards, revealing more than she thought was necessary. Tara King shrieked, somehow propelled herself backwards, and rammed into the wall. Her hair, which had been twisted in many sections and pinned around her head, had come partly undone.
Steed raised an amused eyebrow at her degrading predicament, but politely turned around so Tara could get herself together. He started practising how to manoeuvre without the help of gravity. "It's like swimming," he called to her over his shoulder, "except it's through the air." He demonstrated by doggy paddling a few centimetres.
"That sounds extremely helpful," Miss King mumbled. Nevertheless, she tried the backstroke in the air, and found that she was able to travel a little more gracefully. She didn't get very far, but that was beside the point. After a few minutes, she felt herself relaxing. "This is quite fun when you get the hang of it!" she cried.
Steed whirled around to see what she was doing. Tara was performing the sidestroke, her skirts were in the air again, and her hair was slowly unravelling. But the smile on her face was sweet and sincere, and Steed thought she'd never looked more beautiful.
************
"This is Mother calling Steed, Mother calling Steed. Do you read me?" Mother bellowed into his end of the intercom. He addressed Rhonda with the inquisition, "Why doesn't he answer? We had a clean reception just a minute ago."
Suddenly, Rhonda's blue eyes grew melancholy. Mother scoffed at her before replying, "I know what you're thinking, and I can tell you with utmost certainty that they did not crash. It would be all over the news if they had." Mother thought briefly then demanded, "Get me to the nearest television."
They were still outside Steed's apartment complex with a cluster of strangers. The nearest TV was in Steed's own flat, so Rhonda hurriedly wheeled Mother there. Once they were situated inside, Mother rolled himself over to one of Steed's newer acquisitions, the television set. He switched it on to the news programme, where a reporter was speaking about the drought they were having.
All at once the anchorman cleared his throat and began, "We have a breaking news report. An unidentified rocket made an unexpected lift-off in the area of Stable Mews. Our best scientists are fairly certain it is a rival ship, and they're hoping to be able to talk rationally with the enemy. If the enemy refuses to cooperate, who knows what might happen.
"Eyewitnesses have confirmed that there were at least two people in the rocket at its time of lift-off. So far contact with the passengers has been impossible, since the communication system seems to be shut off. Why the enemy has decided to test their rocket in our country is an enigma to all high officials at this point. Some think it is a Communistic plot-"
Mother turned off the telly before he could hear the rest. "This is appalling. Nobody has been able to contact them, especially not me! When I think of poor little Tara-and Steed-all alone up there, I get emotional!"
Rhonda stared at him disbelievingly. She seemed to say, "You never get emotional."
"Take me to spy headquarters at once. We must speak with Father, Grandma, and possibly even," Mother gulped, "Grandpa."
***********
At the intervening time, over by Primrose Hill, another person was watching the news. As soon as the special report ended, a slender hand clicked a high tech remote control. The telly turned off, and a slim and tall woman rose from her seat. She entered her bedroom and crumpled onto one of the twin size beds.
She didn't need to think about him. She had almost succeeded in living a normal life without him, playing the role of doting wife to a man-a man who was home 1/3 of the time. She rolled over onto her side, her auburn locks caressing her cheek before lying to rest over her entire face.
"Steed, how could you be so careless?" she whispered. Yes, she knew it was Steed up in that rocket. Who else living at Stable Mews had so much free time and money to buy a rocket and ride it? But who was the other person up there with him? "It has to be that lovely creature with the ample bosom, bad fashions, and extremely young face," she muttered to herself.
The sight of the young, brunette woman was enough to make her ill. "No, I won't think about him and her, or that silly rocket. Steed's a spy, and so is his partner. They'll think of a way to get down and to explain this mess to the authorities."
Another voice inside her screamed, "But, Emma, you know people in high places, you know scientists. You could explain everything to them-and help Steed in the process," the voice added.
It was useless to ignore the fact that she missed John Steed. She missed his warm smile, gentlemanly manners, the sometimes naughty jokes he played, his coming to rescue her. Her resolve to stop thinking about him dissolved as she thought of the good times they had had. Determinedly, she rose from the bed and entered her large closet to find something appropriate to wear for visiting rocket scientists.
"Well, my dear friend, it's time I rescue you for a change. I'll get you down from space if it's the last thing I do." To herself she muttered the words that Steed had used earlier, "At least I think I can."
To Be Continued!