Life on Mars
by J. Ferguson a.k.a. Timeless A-Peel
Disclaimer: I don't own The New Avengers, nor the characters of Mike Gambit, Purdey, John Steed, and Larry Doomer. Sadly. They're the property of The Avengers (Film and TV) Enterprises. This story is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended
Timeline: Seventh in a series. Takes place in July, 1977, immediately after the events of the episode "Obsession." It is strongly recommended, but not essential, that you go back and read the previous stories in the arc, Lost Boys, Aftermath, Dance With Me, The Anniversary, Merry Christmas, Mr. Gambit, and Brazil.
For more information about the series, please see my profile.
Author's Note: Yes, another chapter, and not too big a gap in-between! Excellent. If I can just keep this up, I'll be happy. We're still dealing with the immediate aftermath here, and it's going to take a couple more chapters to really set things up. Then things get...interesting. Hopefully it'll be worth the wait.
Far away, across the vast expanse of field, still glued to the spot, Steed stood next to Gambit, eyes fixed on Purdey's retreating back. Gambit's jaw was working madly, a sure sign he was upset. Steed decided to distract him from his personal crisis. There was work to be done, and there was little to be gained by leaving Gambit to sit and stew.
"We'll need transport," Steed said quietly, but with a firm undertone meant to pierce the younger man's consciousness and call him into action. "And I need to call in. Where did you park your Rover?"
Gambit shook his head, as though to clear it, and blinked at Steed as one coming out of a daze. "Sorry," he murmured, making a visible effort to gather his thoughts. "Um, it's down the road. Not far from where I've got Doomer's cronies chained up"
"Get it," Steed ordered, and intercepted Gambit's protests before they could start. "I'll attend to Purdey. Radio for assistance while you're at it. And Mike," the younger man, already moving to leave, stopped, and turned to meet his gaze, "whatever you may be thinking, you did the right thing."
Gambit nodded curtly, and cast one last look at Purdey's forlorn figure, before setting off on his task. Steed acknowledged East's existence with a quick nod before he started across the field, picking his way through the debris to catch up with Purdey. She had stopped by this point, with no more field to tread, and was gazing blankly at nothing. Steed put a gentle hand on her shoulder, and as she turned to look at him, he thought he saw a brief spark of hope before she realized who he was.
Not Gambit. Steed. She looked away again, quickly, before Steed could catch the trace of disappointment that flickered across her face. She wasn't entirely successful, though, and Steed took it as a hopeful sign. If he wasn't the one to make her face light up, then that left only one other candidate, and if she was hoping for him, things were salvageable after all.
"Purdey," Steed said quietly, deciding against voicing his conclusion. He wasn't sure Purdey herself even knew what she wanted, and adding his two bits would only confuse her more. At the moment it was best to stick with facts and the most immediate problems, things that couldn't be argued, and didn't act as a source of guilt. "Gambit's gone for the Rover. We'll take you home as soon as possible. But you'll have to come back this way. Do you think you can scale the wall one last time?"
Purdey nodded a little at the reference, even though the thought of trudging past Larry's body obviously made her stomach churn, if the way she went green was anything to go by. Steed took her arm and gently steered her back, walking on her right hand side to act as a barrier between Purdey and the smoke, and the remains of the Rover. And Larry.
They waited in a heavy silence by the road for Gambit to return. When he finally did, Steed couldn't help but notice Purdey did her best to avoid eye contact with the man, climbing in the back seat with East, leaving Steed to sit up front with their anxious driver. From his vantage point, Steed watched Gambit glance in the rear view mirror at the girl every few seconds as he drove, but she was looking down—no eye contact. Steed sighed.
They intercepted the clean-up crew on the way, and stopped so Steed could fill them in on some of the pertinent details Gambit had missed. Mike hadn't been along when they'd found General Canvey at Doomer's. He saw the younger man stiffen when Steed revealed the missile's intended target. Gambit hadn't known just how high the stakes had been, and when they were on their way once more, Mike's knuckles were a fraction whiter as they clutched the steering wheel. Gambit had killed for Purdey today. He was only just realizing he'd also done the favour for several thousand more.
Steed hoped that would help.
This wasn't the time to discuss it, though, so Steed turned his mind to the more pressing problem of how to work the drop-off arrangements. Technically, the stud farm was closer to their current location, and East's car was waiting there. But the Ministry's guidelines were very clear in a situation like this. Doomer was a government man. Royal Air Force. Fairly high up. Privy to highly sensitive, classified information. And Gambit had just killed him. It had been the right decision, but a kill was still a kill, and all such terminations complicated the reporting process, led to all sorts of interviews and cross-checking. Gambit was doubtless going to be prodded for his actions. It was bad enough when it was standard issue heavy that had met his end at agent's hands, but when government branches started picking off one another's members, things got even messier, and to prevent further complications, it was essential that Purdey and Gambit not so much as discussed the weather until their individual versions of the day's events had been recorded for posterity.
To make matters worse, Purdey's earlier actions had well and truly put her in hot water with East. Despite what Steed had ordered earlier, the Commander was most certainly going to make his voice heard in the aftermath, and it was up to Steed to keep him under watch until the senior agent himself could present his own explanation for Purdey's behaviour—sooner rather than later. Even though this had been a personal crisis for Purdey, she wasn't going to find many sympathetic ears among the top brass. McKay perhaps, but so few of the rest were keen on the idea of a woman joining their old boy's club that any sign of weakness on Purdey's part could prove fatal to the girl's career, let alone going rogue and sabotaging her colleague's car when a madman like Larry was on the loose. That meant that Purdey was better off steering clear of both the Ministry and Gambit for the time being. Steed already knew he was going to be hard pressed to come up with an alternate explanation for her actions. The last thing he needed was someone bringing up the idea of some sort of love triangle/conspiracy between Purdey and Gambit. And Larry.
But protocol was only the official excuse to keep his two young colleagues apart. Leaving Purdey and Gambit alone in the vehicle, without himself or East to act as a buffer, could be disastrous. Steed had managed to hold the younger man back, to keep him from following Purdey into that field. But Gambit was looking more anxious by the minute, and Steed didn't know if the younger man would be able to let her alone, even if only to offer some unnecessary apology. Purdey was quiet now, but Steed could see the earlier screaming hysteria still lurked beneath the surface. What she might say in reaction to Gambit's words was unknown, and there was no guarantee that it wouldn't be damaging, so much so that they'd be unable to work together in the future.
But even if she had calmed down, or wanted Gambit to make the first move, as he was certain she had earlier, Steed thought Purdey needed a day or two to herself, to straighten out the events in her own mind. Left alone with Mike, she could just as easily swing the other way and go from anger to seeking comfort in ways that she would never contemplate had this been an ordinary assignment. As vulnerable as she was at the moment, Gambit could prove a risky temptation. Would she ask? Would he oblige? Steed knew that Gambit, despite what others may have thought, didn't take the idea of getting involved with Purdey lightly. He wanted it for the right reasons, which was why he hadn't wanted her sympathy during his own personal crisis the previous year. But Gambit hadn't been plagued by guilt then, wasn't in the position to feel as though he owed Purdey whatever she asked. And Purdey, after losing her ex-lover—or fiancé, if a planned dreamhouse was any indication—could just as easily take on another to fill the void his return and demise had caused, to sooth reopened wounds, and freshly cut ones. But if either of them came to regret it, or, worse still, if Purdey simply lost interest…Steed knew he'd have a hell of a time getting them to work together again.
On the other hand, Steed wasn't entirely certain he should leave Purdey alone. Obviously Doomer had been a significant part of her past, more than either Gambit or Steed had suspected, and because they'd both underestimated the situation, Purdey had just about run into a missile over Doomer. What else was she capable of? Steed looked at Gambit again, and looked at the hands on the steering wheel, clenched until the knuckles were white, jaw working all the way. Come to think of it, Gambit wasn't looking too promising, either. But he couldn't very well baby-sit both of them, together. He could always recruit a car and driver at the Ministry, and East could ride with him back to the farm, where the man had left his own car for the Rover. And Gambit's vehicle was his own. Steed didn't have any choice but to drop her at home, alone, and hope for the best. Steed sighed as Purdey's turn came up, and when Gambit looked his way for guidance, Steed nodded. Go.
"I'm sending you two home for the rest of the day," he announced, and waited for a reaction. "The party's long over. There's nothing more to be gained by prolonging things."
Despite his own mental anguish, Gambit's efficient, official side kicked in, and with it, loyalty to procedure. "What about clean-up, reports?"
"I'll attend to the former," Steed told him. "As for the reports, the Ministry can handle a few days' grace. I'd rather you rest. It's been a trying day. When you feel up to it, you can start putting your own versions down for posterity. I'll call you to reconvene when it's time." He glanced back at Purdey, who raised her eyes briefly to meet his. "All right?"
She nodded slightly. "Okay."
They'd reached her flat by this point, and Gambit pulled in front. Steed got out to give Purdey clear passage, then fell into step behind her as she started down the 21 steps. He cast a backward look at Gambit, who was watching them miserably. Undoubtedly, he wanted to walk Purdey down, but Steed could tell by his tired expression that he knew his presence likely wouldn't be wise. Perhaps he, too, had thought up the two possible ways a discussion could end.
At the bottom of the stairs, Purdey absently fished in her pocket for her keys, noticing as she extracted them her motorcycle gloves.
"My bike," she said dazedly. "It's still…there."
"I'll have it sent for," Steed assured, and she nodded absently as she slid the key into the lock. Steed reached out and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, felt the tensed muscles beneath his fingers. "I'm not going to ask if you're all right, because I already know the answer. But I would like to know if you're going to be, if you need to talk to someone. Not me, necessarily, although you're welcome to, but someone with the Ministry's psychiatry department, or—"
"No," Purdey said firmly, as though she'd realized she could—should--do more on her own. Whether for the sake of regulations, or the team, he didn't know. "No, I'll be fine. I just—I need some time. To think. To make sense of it all."
Steed nodded, satisfied she wouldn't open a vein or anything before he could check on her again. "I understand. But if you do need something—"
"Just time. But I'll call if I do." She cast a look up the stairs, and Steed realized that Gambit was standing at the top, hands in pockets, watching them mournfully. Their eyes met for perhaps the first time since Doomer had been shot, and Steed could almost feel the emotion swirling around him, thick and stifling, but then Purdey looked away and went inside, closing the door behind her without another word. Steed looked up at Gambit, but the younger man had already turned and started his way back to the car.
In her flat, Purdey heard the Rover start up and drive away, the feeling of emptiness growing as the hum of the engine faded into the distance, carrying away her lifeline. He was gone. Gone. She felt the tears spring back unbidden as she staggered over to the cabinet, dug out the framed photograph of Larry, took it with her to the bedroom, set it on her side table as she struggled out of her boots and curled up on the bed. She'd felt so sure of her self a moment ago, so sure that when Gambit saw that look in her eyes he would say to hell with everything and come bounding down those stairs to save her. But now…
"Why?" she asked the picture angrily. "I was happy again. Why did you have to take it away, just like before?" She buried her face in a pillow. "You even took him, didn't you? You made sure of it."
Whenever they had her, the enemy, she'd known, somehow, that Gambit would come for her. Because he couldn't possibly do anything else. He was wired that way. Battered, bloody, battle-scarred, but he always came. She knew it wasn't captivity that frightened her. It was the idea that he would think she was lost, unreachable, and that he would give up on her as a result. Because when there was no way she could get herself out of trouble, she needed someone to save her. This time the enemy was herself. She needed someone now. And he wasn't coming.
Purdey felt more tears come. He wasn't coming.