The Caper

Disclaimer: I don't own The New Avengers, nor the characters of Mike Gambit, Purdey, and John Steed. They're the property of The Avengers (Film and TV) Enterprises. I don't own The Avengers, either, or any of its characters. They belong to Canal+ (Image) International. This story is written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended.

Timeline: Takes place late in season one, in the autumn of 1976. This story fits into my Arc series of stories. For more information about the Arc, please see my profile.

Emma flipped down the visor on the driver's side of the Lotus and checked her hair. "Ready?"

"Just about." Gambit reached into the breast pocket of his tuxedo jacket and retrieved a thin, insubstantial object. Emma turned inquisitive eyes on him.

"What do you have there?"

"Just another layer of disguise," Gambit said mysteriously as he unfolded the object. "One that I think you'll appreciate."

"What do you—ah!" Emma's puzzled frown dissolved into gales of laughter as Gambit slid a pair of thick-rimmed glasses onto his face. "The serious, no-nonsense glasses. Guaranteed to instantly turn the wearer into an unremarkable drudge, completely above suspicion. I'd almost forgotten about those."

"They're an espionage classic," Gambit said with relish, pushing them up his nose with a flourish. "I seem to remember you used them quite a few times in your day."

"I did," Emma confirmed, wiping away a tear of mirth with great care to preserve the integrity of her mascara. "But I'm sure they didn't look half as fetching on me as they do on you."

"I don't believe that for a second," Gambit said, adjusting the rims with exaggerated care. "Think I'll pass muster as the man who does your books?"

"I'm more worried they'll think you're doing something else of mine," Emma quipped, opening her car door. "Come on. It wouldn't do to keep Klizan's people waiting."

"Not to mention his files," Gambit added knowingly, following Emma out into the night.

"Ah, Ms. Knight," Klizan, a tall, angular-featured man, greeted Emma as they filed into a large room already full of burbling voices. "Delighted to see you this evening. I'd been given to understand that you might not be able to attend. But then you requested a second invitation." He looked appraisingly at Gambit. "I understand completely that some people would not want to attend an event unescorted."

"Yes," Gambit asserted, sensing Emma's hackles rise at the comment. "I get terribly lonely if I go out on my own. Luckily, Ms. Knight was kind enough to ask me along tonight."

Emma's mouth quirked up on one side at Gambit's return of Klizan's patronising tone in kind. "I'm a firm believer in keeping the morale of my employees high," she said briskly. "Mr. Klizan, I'd like you to meet Michael O'Carroll, from our financial department."

"Ah." Klizan took Gambit's hand and shook it. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. O'Carroll."

"Likewise," Gambit replied, smiling a little too broadly, squeezing the man's hand a little too hard.

"Keeping an eye on your company's finances around the clock," Kilizan went on, a little desperately, as he tried to extricate his hand from Gambit's solid grip. "I admire your dedication."

"Oh, I'm very dedicated," Gambit confirmed, releasing the man's hand a fraction of a second after the handshake had obviously gone on a fraction too long. "Ms. Knight, can I get you a drink?"

"Thank you, Mr. O'Carroll," Emma replied with a smile, and Gambit bowed slightly before taking his leave.

Klizan watched him go. "A very…interesting man," he said carefully, watching Gambit's retreating back with a mixture of apprehension and bemusement. "How long has he been with your company?"

"A little while," Emma replied airily, smile never leaving her face. "As he's so fond of reminding me, he's very good with figures."

"Ah," Klizan said thoughtfully, rubbing his hand. "I'm sure."

Emma noticed the gesture and tsked. "All that lugging about of ledgers and tapping away at calculators does wonders for the hand muscles. He doesn't know his own strength," she explained with feigned concern. "Do excuse me. I think he has my drink."

"Well?" Gambit inquired, handing Emma a glass of champagne as she arrived at his side. "Is he suspicious of me yet?"

"Yes," Emma pronounced, daintily sipping her champagne. "For all the wrong reasons."

Gambit snagged a glass for himself off the tray of a passing waiter. "It's all going to plan then."

Emma slanted an ironic eyebrow at him over the rim of her glass. "I suspect he thinks I make a habit of seducing my employees."

"Probably." Gambit flashed her a lightning quick grin. "Like I said, it's going to plan. We knew he was going to think you wangling me an invite was weird. Would you rather he got it right and worked out why we're really here?"

"No." Emma's mouth was twitching between a wry smile and pursed lips, and didn't seem to be able to decide which way to go. "But I do have to live with this reputation."

"Hey, you called me," Gambit reminded. "And there are only so many ways to explain this whole thing away." He tilted his head and regarded her frankly from behind his glasses. "Unless you're embarrassed to be seen with me?"

"Not in the least," Emma said lightly, letting the champagne bubbles dissolve on her tongue. "I'm on edge, that's all."

"Well, we can work that off," Gambit offered, reaching out to take her glass. He was met with Emma's incredulous expression. "Dancing. Until we can make our move and get out of here."

Emma laughed. "I should have known." She took the hand Gambit offered. "Lead on, Mr. O'Carroll."

"My pleasure, Ms. Knight."

They positioned themselves somewhere Klizan was sure to see them, but not so obviously front and centre that it would be clear that they wanted to be seen. "You look beautiful, by the way," Gambit murmured, when they'd fallen into an easy rhythm, allowing himself another look at Emma's long black evening gown, plain but elegant, with a fitted bodice, square-cut neckline, and thin straps dissolving into an elegantly-draping skirt. She'd foregone jewellery, but put her hair up in a simple twist.

"Thank you," Emma said graciously, adjusting her grip on the well-tailored shoulder of Gambit's tuxedo jacket. "You're quite pretty yourself."

Gambit leaned in and whispered in her ear, "It's the glasses. Give me an air of mystery."

Emma laughed lightly. "The rest of the package doesn't hurt, either," she whispered back, lips brushing his earlobe.

Gambit's eyebrows climbed over the top of his glasses. "Are you making a pass, or trying to chew my earlobe off?"

"Let's just say I'm warming to the role," Emma replied saucily, treating Gambit to subtle wink. "I'm rather enjoying having my hands on a younger man."

"I'm only a few years younger than you."

"It still counts," Emma asserted, with a giggle.

"Did you start drinking before you picked me up? Should I worry about you getting handsy?"

"Always."

"Were you always this giddy on assignment, or am I bringing out some new, mad side of you that you've kept hidden all these years?"

"I'm putting on a show for Mr. Klizan and enjoying myself in the process," Emma informed, still close to Gambit's ear. "And I think it's working."

Gambit buried his nose in Emma's hair. "Do you think it's time to make ourselves scarce?"

"After this dance," Emma decided, caught up in the swirl of the music. "It'll be less obvious. And it would be a shame to cut this song short."

Gambit chuckled. "As you wish, my lady."

vvv

"Nicki said she stowed the bag in a janitor's closet down here," Emma said softly, moving soundlessly across the floor with Gambit in tow.

"I want to know how she got down here at all," Gambit marvelled. "We walked in with an invitation and I'm still amazed we managed to slip out of the ballroom without Klizan catching us. This place is full to bursting with security."

"Her talents aren't limited to business," Emma said simply. "She's very resourceful."

"You're not joking," Gambit murmured, glancing over his shoulder to make sure they weren't being followed. "How much farther?"

"I think this is it." Emma carefully turned the knob of an anonymous-looking door and slipped inside, with Gambit pressing in behind her.

Emma pulled the string of the naked lightbulb hanging over their heads, casting pale yellow light over their evening wear. "It should be here, somewhere," she murmured, digging around near the back of the room in among the janitorial supplies.

"If it's not, all the handsiness in the world isn't going to make up for the broken locks we're going to leave behind," Gambit pointed out, untying his bowtie and unbuttoning the top button of his shirt.

"Patience," Emma urged, still rummaging around. "Aha! Here it is." She hefted a small leather bag from within an industrial-sixed wash bucket and set it on the floor between them.

"I didn't doubt you for a minute," Gambit said with obvious relief, shrugging off his tuxedo jacket.

"I should hope not," Emma retorted, sliding the straps of her dress off her shoulders.

Gambit regarded the gesture with a mixture of interest and incredulity. "Do you want me to turn around?"

"I think you'll find I've spared your blushes," Emma said wryly, shimmying out of the dress to reveal a thin-strapped undergarment on top, her waist and legs clad in a catsuit, the top of which had been left hanging, disguised by the volume of her skirt.

"That's what I call a quick change," Gambit quipped, pulling the fake tuxedo panel from the front of his shirt to reveal an ordinary shirt hidden beneath the dressy exterior.

"I could say the same," Emma retorted as Gambit balled up his jacket and panel and stowed both in the bag, before pulling out a leather jacket.

"Let's hope it was quick enough," Gambit murmured, pulling the bowtie from around his neck and adding it to the bag. "How long do you think we have before Klizan sends out a search party?"

Emma looked heavenwards in thought. "About half an hour," she estimated, sliding her arms into the sleeves of her catsuit and pulling the two halves of the garment tight across her chest. "It depends on how paranoid he's feeling this evening." She zipped the catsuit up in one fluid motion. "And how long some of his guests delay him over the punch."

Gambit grinned at her. "Loquacious, are they?"

"Irrepressible." Emma pulled the clip from her hair, letting her long auburn locks fall loose around her shoulders, and shaking them out for good measure. "Are you ready?"

Gambit hefted the bag. "When you are."

"Good." Emma stepped in close and removed the glasses that Gambit had forgotten to take off in all the excitement, tucked them away in the bag. "I'm in the mood for a break-in."

vvv

It wasn't far to the lifts from the closet, but with guards patrolling the corridors away from the party, the distance seemed farther than it was. Emma and Gambit darted silently down hallways, taking the long way to their destination, all for the advantage of remaining unseen. They were almost caught several times, but they managed to elude their would-be captors. But despite the near-misses, nothing felt as fraught or as interminably long as the wait for the lifts.

"Come on, come on," Gambit muttered under this breath, jabbing the button impatiently. He knew it wouldn't make it arrive any faster, but it at least gave him something to do. He turned to Emma, who was keeping an eye on the corridor. "Are you sure we can't take the stairs?"

"The stairs are alarmed," Emma murmured back, eyes never moving from the corridor. "The lift won't take us to the upper floors, but the odds are better that we can find our way around that. It'll be faster, too. The doors in the stairway would take too long to pick."

"That's a matter of opinion," Gambit muttered, looking up at the indicator. The lift seemed to be moving as slow as the proverbial molasses in January.

"Patience," Emma advised.

"Tell that to the guards that when they catch—" Gambit was cut off as the lift dinged merrily, and the doors slid open. Emma straightened up and stepped inside, then turned to treat Gambit to a cheeky smile.

"I did tell you," she teased, not the least bit repentantly.

"Mmm," Gambit grumbled, stepping in beside her and hitting the button for the highest floor they could reach without a key card. The lift sailed smoothly upward. Emma watched the light on the floor indicator panel ascend, hand poised over the "emergency stop" button. Moments before the lift doors were due to open on their floor, she pounded it, and the lift shuddered to a halt.

"Come on," she hissed. Gambit, without prompting, made a stirrup with his hands, and Emma leapt nimbly into them, straining for the lever that would open the panel in the lift's ceiling. The panel popped open, and Gambit boosted Emma higher, without missing a beat. Emma's shapely legs disappeared into the opening, replaced by her head and shoulders. "Bag," she prompted. Gambit tossed the satchel up to her, before jumping up and snagging the edge of the opening himself. Emma caught his arm, and helped him manoeuvre up through the small space. "Right," Emma whispered, rummaging in the bag as Gambit carefully closed the panel behind them. She came up with a torch and a small tool, shone the former onto the wall of the lift shaft. "There's the ladder. And we—" She panned the light all the way up the length of the shaft. "—are going straight to the top."

"Naturally," Gambit quipped, Emma's light catching his saucy grin. He slung the bag over his shoulders. "I'll put that in my belt," he offered, nodding to the tool in her hand. "You light the way. Ladies first, and all that."

"Thank you, kind sir." Emma handed the tool to Gambit, who tucked it into his belt.

"Well, it is your op," Gambit reminded, following Emma across the roof of the lift to the ladder. "Just promise me one thing."

Emma gripped the first run of the ladder. "What's that?"

"Shout if you see anything start moving. I don't want to be any thinner than I already am."

Emma grinned. "Deal."

vvv

They made the show climb up the lift shaft without incident, and prised open the doors that would have opened upon the arrival of the now-absent lift had they been in a position to use it, using the tool Gambit had stowed in his belt. Which was why they now found themselves outside a locked room that Emma had assured Gambit contained the records for Klizan Aerotech's current projects.

Gambit looked up from picking the lock and grimaced when he took the torch beam straight in the eyes. "Careful where you point that thing!" he hissed.

"Sorry," Emma apologised, readjusting the angle of the beam of light so it settled squarely on the door's lock. "How much longer do you think it'll take?"

"It's a hefty lock," Gambit said grimly, returning to his work. "Usually I just kick the door in, if I can."

"I suspect that would defeat the purpose of breaking in under the cover of night," Emma replied, tongue planted firmly in cheek.

Gambit chanced a look away from his work to survey Emma, leaning against the wall with one knee bent to press the bottom of her foot flat against the wall behind her, resplendent in the figure-hugging black catsuit and matching gloves that she'd chosen specifically for their nighttime sojourn. "Not from where I'm standing."

Emma rewarded him with another flash of light to the eyes accompanied by a kittenish smile. "You're wasting time."

"Sorry," Gambit apologised, not looking particularly repentant. "But if you'd shown up at my flat wearing that, I might have gotten out of bed a little faster."

"If I'd shown up wearing leather, your neighbours would have you evicted by lunchtime," Emma said knowingly. "Which would have defeated the purpose of my being discreet in the first place. So be glad that I've disposed of the leather. Among other things, it's much too high-maintenance." She patted Gambit's leather jacket-clad shoulder reassuringly. "Besides, it looks much better on you."

"Thanks. You know, you can always help if you want this to go faster."

"I've already practised my lock-picking skills once today," Emma reminded. "And from the sounds of things, you could use some practice opening a door with something other than your foot."

No sooner had the words left her mouth than the lock clicked satisfyingly. Gambit looked triumphantly up at Emma. "You were saying?"

Emma panned the torch up as he rose to his feet. "You just proved my point."

Gambit sighed and pulled his own torch from his belt, flicked it on. "Let's go."

Emma swept a hand ahead of her. "Lead on."

Gambit crept into the office, feeling Emma close at his shoulder. Once they were both inside, he heard her close the door softly behind them. Gambit stood in the dark for a moment, then nearly jumped out of his skin when Emma whispered breathily in his ear, "I'll start over here." She moved away to one of the filing cabinets without waiting for a reply, and Gambit realised that he'd been waiting for the idiosyncratic rhythm of Purdey's heels on the tile, not Emma's soft booties, moving soundlessly behind him. He swallowed down the irrational feeling of guilt that the thought elicited, and made a beeline for the desk.

"You know," he said softly, as he started rifling through the files on the desktop, "if you needed help, you could have called Steed."

He could just see Emma's eyebrows rise in the light of her torch resting on top of the file cabinet. "If you don't enjoy the pleasure of my company, you should have said so."

"You know that's not true," Gambit countered, checking under the blotter. "But you know he'd drop everything to help you if you asked."

"Maybe," Emma allowed, pulling a drawer out of the cabinet with more force than was strictly necessary. "Steed and I have a lot of history." She paused then added. "Perhaps too much." She started flicking through the files and said briskly, "You didn't tell him you were helping me when you called in your leave, did you?"

"Of course not," Gambit replied, rifling through the contents of the desk's in- and out-trays.

"What about Purdey?" Emma wanted to know, voice heavy with meaning.

"You wanted me to keep this quiet. If I told Purdey, Purdey would tell Steed," Gambit pointed out testily, annoyed by the question without really understanding why, or why he was taking it out on Emma. Liar, a little voice in his head sneered. You know exactly why it bothers you. And so does Emma.

"Not if you asked her not to," Emma predicted, pulling out a file and skimming it with practised efficiency. "What harm could it do?"

"Fewer people who know what I'm up to, the better," Gambit countered, pulling out desk drawers and shifting the contents around moodily. "And anyway, she wouldn't understand."

Emma's silhouette canted sceptically. "She wouldn't understand that you're helping a friend?" Her voice dropped to that low, throaty pitch that he'd become delightedly accustomed to in the course of their friendship. "Or she wouldn't understand who you were friends with?"

Gambit made a noise that conveyed an array of emotions, all pointing to his reluctance to discuss this particular issue at all. "It's not a conversation we could have easily," he said finally, pulling out a three hole punch and rattling it around experimentally.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you sounded guilty," Emma said with perfectly pitched casualness. "You're very concerned about what Purdey thinks about you for someone you claim is only a friend."

Gambit's eyes glinted in the dark. "Is this your way of getting me to quit asking you about Steed?"

"You're not the only one who can play psychoanalyst."

"Only you're not playing." Emma had a raft of credentials and degrees as long as his arm, and Gambit knew better than to try to catch her out. For all he knew, she could have picked up a PhD in psychology in the intervening weeks. He rattled the three-hole punch again and frowned at the clank that came from within. "Emma."

Emma's head popped up from the files. "Found something?"

"Maybe." Gambit flipped the hole punch over and prised the back off as Emma joined him. Gambit narrowly avoided knocking his chin on the top of her head as she leaned forward. Emma was half an inch taller than Purdey, but went in for more practical footwear, and the height recalculations required for the new woman by his side were doing his head in in the dark of the office. "Either your executive prints all his reports on steel, or there's a key in here."

Emma snatched up the wastepaper basket to catch the makeshift confetti from the punch before it hit the floor. Her economy of movement reminded Gambit of a particularly lithe cat, all smooth gestures and effortless strides. It was grace, but a different kind of grace than Purdey's, whose practised ease and physical awareness were born of spending years onstage. It would be impossible to try to rate them against one other, but while Emma's physicality, as well as everything else about her, appealed to him, she didn't make his heart do the complicated little dance that Purdey did just by looking at him. He suddenly felt her absence with an almost physical ache. Even looking at Emma's lovely long auburn hair, a stark contrast to Purdey's blonde bob, hollowed out a cavern in his chest.

Something clanged loudly into the rubbish bin, in among the hole punch confetti. "Aha!" Emma exclaimed, thrusting the punch into Gambit's hands and bending to retrieve it. She came up with a small silver key, held it up triumphantly. "I know where this goes."

"Key to your heart?" Gambit quipped.

"Better." Emma strode purposefully over to one of the filing cabinets, knelt in front of the bottom drawer.

Gambit returned the backing to the hole punch and carefully placed it how he'd found it. "Key to someone else's heart?"

Emma unlocked the drawer and slid it out. "Those sort of things have to be offered. They're not for the taking."

"Yes, I know," Gambit sighed, negotiating his way carefully around the desk and peering over Emma's shoulder at the file she'd withdrawn from within the dark depths of the cabinet.

"Spoken like someone who lost his sometime ago," Emma observed as she straightened up.

"Takes one to know one," Gambit countered, and he didn't think he imagined Emma's grin in the dark.

"Hey!" she exclaimed suddenly. "I think this might be what we're looking for."

"The meaning of life?" Gambit queried.

"The other thing we're looking for," Emma said flatly. "If I'm reading this right—"

"And you always do."

"—then my source was right. There's something wrong with the new components being churned out at the factory." She looked over her shoulder at Gambit, met his eyes. "They're faulty, and they know it, but they've found a way to fudge the inspections."

"Well, then," Gambit began, taking the file from Emma and skimming the contents for himself. "Maybe we'll have to conduct some inspections of our own."

"And ensure there's no faulty product to be had."

"It's our duty."

"As civil-minded members of the public."

"With one or two contacts in the right places," Gambit finished with a grin. He handed her back the file. "Shall we go?"

Emma smiled back in the torchlight, brushed her hair back from her forehead in her idiosyncratic way. "Just as soon as we put this back where we found it."

"Good idea," Gambit agreed, as Emma bent and returned the file to the drawer, locked it, and straightened up, key in hand. "Where to next?" he wanted to know, taking the key and slipping it back in its hiding place. "The factory?"

Emma nodded and tugged her gloves more tightly onto her hands. "It isn't far. I'll show you where it is on the map when we get back to the car."

"Fine." Gambit was about to say something more when there was a sudden burble of voices out in the corridor. Emma spun around in surprise, while Gambit automatically ducked under cover of the desk, gun at ready.

"What happened?" Emma exclaimed, snatching up her torch and vaulting over the desk to join him.

"Someone must have noticed the lift was stuck a few floors down," Gambit murmured distractedly, peering over the desktop. "Security's investigating. We don't have much time."

"What's your usual escape route in these situations?" Emma wanted to know.

To her surprise, Gambit grinned. "Remember what I said about kicking down doors?"

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Yes."

"Well, I'm not against jumping out windows, either."

Emma shook her head in disbelief. "Kicking in doors and jumping out of windows. I'm surprised Steed lets you anywhere near his Limoges."

Gambit looked a bit sheepish. "It has been a source of debate."

"I'm not surprised." Emma cocked her head as footsteps sounded in the corridor. "But beggars can't be choosers. Shall we?"

Gambit waggled his eyebrows and sprung up, opened the window. "Ladies first."

Emma looked down at the car park several floors below. "From multiple stories up. How kind."

"There's a drainpipe over there." Gambit indicated alone the ledge. "If you're fond of your knees."

"I would appreciate maintaining the use of both of my knees at least until I'm forty," Emma said wryly. "What about you?"

"I think I'm out of time," Gambit said grimly, as the office door started to rattle alarmingly. He flashed Emma a cocky grin. "You take the drainpipe."

Emma climbed onto the window ledge and started shuffling along the edge. "What about you?"

"As Purdey would say, it's not the first darnfool stunt I've pulled," Gambit said truthfully. "See you at the bottom," were his last words before he dropped out of sight.

Emma watched him drop with a sigh, saw him snag the bottom rung of a handy fire escape ladder to slow his fall, before continuing his trip toward the ground. "Heigh ho," she murmured to herself, gripping the pipe and starting her own quick trip down to join him.