Anew
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 Thomas McKay. Sadly. They're the property of The Avengers (Film and TV) Enterprises. This story is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended
Timeline: First in a series. Takes place in late December, 1975, a full four months before the start of the series in April, 1976. It is strongly recommended that you go back and read the previous story in the arc, Lost Boys. I know I say this every time, but in this case there really are quite a few connections between the events of that fic and this one in terms of character interaction, so if you haven't read it, or haven't read it in awhile, it probably won't hurt to give it a read to refresh your memory. Those interested in the rest of the series are, of course, invited to read the subsequent stories in the arc, Aftermath, Dance With Me, The Anniversary, Merry Christmas, Mr. Gambit, Brazil, and Life on Mars.
For more information about the series, please see my profile.
Author's Note: I know the chapter title's puntastic, but I've wanted to use it for something like five years now, so there it is. It's a nice long chapter this time around, with the characters getting to grips so to speak, so hopefully everyone will enjoy it.
I'd also like to wish Joanna Lumley, who played Purdey in the series, a very happy 64th birthday this May 1st. Here's to many, many more Joanna. 'Til next time...
Purdey made her way down the Ministry corridors, practically shivering with excitement. She still couldn't quite believe she was on her way to a meeting with John Steed. Her classmates surely wouldn't believe her when she told them in the New Year, once training had resumed. Purdey wondered idly if Steed would mind if she asked for some sort of proof…
Steed actually had a fair-sized office all to himself, just as all of the Ministry's top officials did, but the rumours Purdey had heard suggested he didn't make much use of it. He was today, though, and Purdey supposed that made sense—where else was he going to talk to her? She didn't have any place to call her own in the building aside from her locker in the gym, and she doubted even he would be forward enough to request that she meet him in his home. Purdey wasn't at all sure she'd be able to handle that. All the same, she found herself approaching even the office with trepidation. It felt rather like being summoned to the headmaster's office. She knew she wasn't in trouble, but all the same, the old roles were there—teacher and student, superior and subordinate. She took a moment to smooth her hair and skirt and take a deep breath to calm her nerves. She could do this. She was a capable, confident young woman. Just because it was John Steed on the other side of that door didn't mean she had to lose her head completely. She squared her shoulders and knocked. The warm, inviting voice from the telephone invited her to enter. Purdey turned the knob and did so.
Steed was sitting at his desk, perusing a file lying open on the surface. A quick glance told Purdey it was her personnel file, and she fought down the childish urge to blush at whatever personal details he might be reading. She focussed on Steed instead. She had never seen the man in person, only in photos in Ministry texts, and those, as she had suspected, had not been updated since the sixties, whether for vanity's sake or simply because no one had bothered, she did not know. But it was clear that the picture was about ten years out of date. She'd been expecting some signs of age, but for the most part Steed was well-preserved. Maybe a few more crow's feet around the eyes, a little general wear to the face, but still unmistakably the confident, bowler-hatted individual that had smiled congenially out at her from page 46. When he smiled at her now the eyes twinkled in the same way they had all those years ago. Immediately, Purdey relaxed. Steed looked kind, charming, dependable, and comforting, and not nearly as imposing as he could be considering his status as a living legend.
"Miss Bryde," the warm voice greeted, wrapping around her like a thick, soft blanket and easing the tension away. "So good of you to see me at such short notice. Please, have a seat." He indicated a comfortable looking leather chair seated across the desk from himself. Purdey made her way to it, paused to extend her hand.
"It was no trouble at all," she assured as he took it, and relished the sensation of the large, warm hand enveloping hers. "Really. I don't know of one of my classmates who wouldn't have jumped at the chance."
Steed chuckled. "At the risk of sounding as though I have an inordinately high opinion of myself, I believe you."
"What I still don't understand," Purdey went on, settling back into her seat, "is why you wanted to see me? I mean, there must be dozens of agents with field experience and twice as many skills."
"Don't sell yourself short, Miss Bryde," Steed replied, glancing down at her file. "On the contrary, your repertoire is very impressive. Top of your class, in fact."
Purdey flushed slightly at the praise. "Well, I do my best."
"And that's just what I need!" Steed exclaimed, closing her file. "Your best. You see, Miss Bryde, I need a capable agent I can send in undercover, one who will be able to handle herself in any situation."
Purdey shook her head. "I'm sorry. I still don't follow. I've never even been out in the field, let alone undercover. Don't think I'm not grateful for this opportunity, but there must be someone more qualified."
Steed sucked his cheek as he pondered his next words, and how to say what he was about to without offending. "Technically, what you say is true," he said carefully, and Purdey looked slightly taken aback. "There are many, many agents qualified for undercover work. But you see, Miss Bryde, this particular assignment requires that an agent possess a very special quality." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "It requires a woman."
Purdey blinked. "That's why I'm here?" she queried, a little acerbically, even if she was talking to Steed. "Because I'm the best the Ministry has to offer on the skirt front?"
"Please don't take offense," Steed soothed. "Rest assured I wouldn't have called you in if I didn't feel you were qualified. But yes, the sad fact is that most of the Ministry's finest consists of men, and we're no longer allowed to source outside aid."
"Such as Mrs. Peel?" Purdey offered crisply. All of her male classmates were in love with Emma Peel, and that was reason enough for Purdey to hate her. The woman just seemed too accomplished and multitalented to be real. No woman could encompass all of those enviable qualities into one package, although Purdey thought she didn't do a bad job herself. For the most part she settled for not bringing Emma up in conversation, but Steed had obviously been alluding to her, and she couldn't help herself.
"Yes," Steed admitted, looking a little pinched at the mention of the name. "Like Mrs. Gale and David Keel before her. I won't deny that the Ministry's new regulations have limited the pool of talent, but from what your instructors have to say, I'd be glad to work with you whatever the circumstances."
"Work together? The two of us?" Purdey exclaimed excitedly, all annoyance pushed aside at this new, exciting offer. She hadn't certainly been expecting this. She'd assumed Steed would send her off on some assignment and only have her check in occasionally as required, the way he did with his veritable stable—pun intended—of agents. But Steed was making out that they would be cheek to cheek, working closely on the case together. Just as he had with Emma Peel. It was a tantalizing prospect for the young trainee.
"The three of us, actually," Steed corrected, and Purdey arched an eyebrow in interest, wondering who else was going to be invited the party, and how much he or she would intrude on her own time with Steed. "Are you familiar with Mike Gambit?"
Purdey snorted with derision at the name. "Only be reputation," she said disdainfully. "And that's more than enough. A bit too interested in the typing pool—or anything else in a skirt, from what I've heard. Not too keen on partners. He likes to run things on his own. He got himself shot going over the Berlin Wall recently. A risk-taker. Maybe even reckless."
"Yes," Steed agreed levelly. "He's also a very fine agent. One of the best, in fact. I expect great things from him."
Purdey shrank in her chair, suddenly chastened. Even if that was her opinion, it was probably bad form to bad mouth a fellow agent to his superior, and Purdey knew that Gambit was under Steed's command. She kicked herself mentally for letting her mouth run ahead of her brain. It happened on occasion, and had been known to get her in trouble. "Oh, no. I didn't mean…"
"No need to apologise," Steed assured, with another of those warm smiles. "I asked what you knew, and you told me. Just keep in mind that not everything you hear in the gym or the break room is true." He paused, then added, "Including what they say about me."
"Now that would be a shame," Purdey said with a coy smile. "Because I've heard some very interesting things about you."
Steed met her eyes and Purdey felt herself shiver a little. They were grey, and there was something beyond friendliness in them now. "As delighted as I'd be to have you recount some of them, there is an assignment that begs our immediate attention. Gambit and I are investigating a pair of rather unusual murders. At least, we think they're murders. The cause of death is rather difficult to determine. I won't go into any more detail until I'm certain you want to accept this assignment, but we have reason to believe that a third murder, that of an agent, is somehow connected. The common link is Edward Wollerton." Steed produced a photograph from beneath Purdey's file and slid it across his desk toward her. "Are you familiar with him?"
Purdey took the picture and studied it, even though she recognized the name. "He's an electronics and computer mogul, isn't he?"
Steed smiled, clearly pleased that she was so well-informed. "That's right. He's been on the front line in making electronics smaller, more efficient. Fingers in a lot of pies—cybernetics, engineering, computers."
"And you think he's using his powers for evil rather than good?" Purdey deduced, setting the photograph back on the desk.
"We don't think much of anything at the moment, other than that the last agent who went looking for anything out of the ordinary died, in much the same way that two other men met their fates, one only two days ago." Steed laced his fingers, looked at Purdey quite seriously. "The last man to even touch on investigating Wollerton died. We think he may have been murdered because of his inquiries. The reason I wanted a woman for this assignment was the simple fact that a woman is less likely to be suspected as a spy. Our man was undercover, and if Wollerton did have him killed, they'll be on the lookout for other eyes. I've made some inquiries, and Wollerton's assistant personal secretary has abandoned him over the holidays. He called into an agency for a temporary replacement yesterday, and they're having difficulty accommodating him."
"And that's where I come in," Purdey said knowingly. "What do you want me to do?"
"Keep your eyes open," Steed said simply. "Particularly for anything that could be used as a weapon. Suspicious goings-on. Secretive staff meetings."
"Almost anything, then?" Purdey said wryly.
Steed smirked. "We're casting the net wide, I admit, but we only have the faintest inkling that there even is something going on. I wish I could be more specific. I'll give you the file and you can draw your own conclusions."
"Assuming I accept," Purdey pointed out. "I haven't yet."
Steed arched an eyebrow. "Do you think it's likely you'll decline?" He looked mildly concerned.
Purdey crossed her legs, enjoying having the upper hand for the moment. She had a feeling it didn't happen with Steed often.
"You honestly think I'm the agent for the job?" she wanted to know. "Beyond the convenience of my sex?"
Steed relaxed a little. "Absolutely. This will be an opportunity for you to put theory into practice before you complete your final tests. A rare occurrence for a trainee."
"It is," Purdey agreed. She wasn't really considering it anymore—she knew she wanted to do it. The chance to be in the field. The chance to work with Steed. Who in her right mind would turn it down? There was only one unknown variable. "Do you think I'll be able to get on with Gambit?" she said inquired.
Steed grinned. "I think Gambit will be able to get on with you."
Purdey wasn't quite sure what the difference was, but she didn't think Steed would tell even if she asked. But she did detect a hint of the innuendo, and decided to put a stop to that. "Well, he certainly won't be 'getting' any more than a colleague. I have no intention of becoming just another one of his conquests."
Steed's smile broadened. "Yes, I see from your file that you're well-liked among your classmates and yet manage to keep them at arm's length." The grey eyes gazed at her meaningfully. "Except for a recent liaison with George Stannard."
Purdey flushed for real this time. "It wasn't as serious as people like to make out." She jutted her chin out defiantly. "Anyway, it's not anyone's business. Speaking of not believing everything you hear…"
"No offense intended." Steed surrendered, holding his hands up protectively. "Not another word about it. I'm sure Gambit will respect your boundaries."
"He'd better, if he doesn't want his back broken in three places," Purdey warned, with an underlying fierceness that made it clear she was not to be trifled with. "And he should know that if we're going to work together I plan to do just that—work, and speak my mind when the situation calls for it, even if his ego doesn't like it."
"I think you'll be surprised how well you and Gambit get along," Steed said with a smile. "As I said, he's a very good agent. I think you'll each have something to teach the other. And if you do have any problems with him, I'll ensure that he resolves them. Quickly."
Purdey nodded, satisfied that Steed wasn't going to leave her stranded with an out-of-control, trigger-happy scoundrel who couldn't keep his hands to himself. "All right, then," she conceded. "I accept. I'll be happy to join your team."
"Excellent!" Steed enthused, reaching out to shake her hand. "Welcome aboard, Miss Bryde."
Purdey shook it, but decided to take the opportunity to correct the niggling issue of address that had been lurking at the back of her mind throughout the meeting.
"Purdey, please," she requested. "No 'miss.' Just Purdey."
Steed's eyebrow sprang up again. "Purdey? You go on a first name basis?"
"It's not that I want people to use my first name so much as to not use my last," Purdey explained, a thin smile on her lips.
"I see," said Steed, even though he clearly didn't. "A bit unusual. Very well, Purdey. I'll do my best to use your Christian name, though I warn you old habits are hard to break. You can call me Steed. No need to stand on ceremony. None of my colleagues have used 'Mr.' for years."
"Steed," Purdey repeated, and suppressed another delighted shiver. She was Steed's partner, at least for the moment. It seemed too good to be true.
Steed was scribbling something on a form. "I'm going to submit a leave of absence from for your instructors. We wouldn't want your scores to be jeopardized on our account. I'll be working as part of the team, but officially I'm only an overseer. Supervisor. Officially, Gambit will be your partner in conducting this investigation." He started to fill in the correct box. "Bryde and Gambit." He frowned, paused, looked up at Purdey and flashed an apologetic smile. "I beg your pardon. Purdey and Gambit." He amended the form, looked it over with approval. "Yes. Has rather a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
Purdey eyed him suspiciously. "Well, it's not as though it's going to be permanent, is it? I mean, this arrangement only holds for one assignment, does it not?"
Steed was suddenly serious. "Of course," he said earnestly. "Just the one. Now if you'll just sign here…" He indicated a place on the form. Purdey picked up the pen and looked at Gambit's name. There was no going back now. She'd have to deal with him when she met him. Perhaps she could even make a few changes for the better. Heaven knew the man could probably use them. She signed.
"Thank you," Steed said, taking the form back and admiring his handiwork. "Good. I'll have this processed immediately." He handed her a dossier. "Familiarise yourself with the case. I'll see you back here in an hour and the three of us will have a proper planning session."
Purdey nodded and rose. A sudden thought occurred to her.
"Does Gambit even know I'm going to be working with him?"
"He will soon," Steed revealed, looking inordinately pleased with himself.
Purdey frowned. "Isn't that a little presumptuous? Shouldn't he have some say in the matter? It's not fair to just spring me on him."
"One of the few things I've found I enjoy about seniority," Steed told her, "is the occasional lack of a need to be fair when dealing with subordinates. Gambit will know soon enough."
"But he'll hold it against me if I just show up!" Purdey countered. "How are we meant to work together after that?"
"He'll adjust," Steed said simply. "Gambit's a big boy. And as I said, if he persists in being difficult, let me know, and I'll attend to it. But as I said, I think you'll be surprised just how well the team of Purdey and Gambit gets on. Now, if you don't mind, I've another appointment to keep." He guided Purdey out the door into the corridor. She spun around, mouth open to protest, but Steed simply smiled.
"Welcome to the team," he said cheerily, and closed the door. Purdey was left gaping, mouth open, one finger raised in protest. She dropped her arm resignedly and sighed, started back down the corridor. There was nothing for it, now. She was going to have to learn to live with Mike Gambit, and hope he did the same with her.
Oh well, she mused to herself, looking for straws of comfort. At least it's not for very long.
Mike Gambit wandered into John Steed's office in a good mood. He'd had a nice long sleep, a leisurely breakfast, gotten a little morning exercise in, and was generally feeling bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Even his earlier annoyance with Steed had faded. He felt so good he wandered in with only the briefest of knocks and deposited himself in one of Steed's leather chairs, crossing his ankles and letting his long legs stretch out before him. Steed looked up from his file and smiled conspiratorially at the young agent.
"Gambit," he greeted cheerfully. "Have you recovered from your flight yesterday?"
"I'm feeling reasonably human, so I'll say 'yes,'" Gambit confirmed, putting his hands in his lap and lacing his fingers. "Anyway, I'm ready to tackle Wollerton. Did you have any breakthroughs after I'd gone home?"
"I did as it happens," Steed said mildly. "We need someone on the inside."
Gambit snorted. "Not exactly revolutionary. That's what Travers' job was, and look where he ended up. I thought we decided there was no way we could sneak a man in without having him spotted."
"We did," Steed agreed, rising to his feet and leaning over the desk, eyes twinkling wickedly. "But it wasn't a man I had in mind."
Gambit felt his heart stop. He knew that look. Steed was up to something. And when he didn't come right out and say what it was, it usually meant you weren't going to like it.
"Steed…" he began, carefully, eyes searching his face for some sign as to what he was up to. "You're contradicting yourself. If we don't send a man in…" Gambit froze, the words dying on his lips. If not a man, then… "Oh no," he breathed, then sat up straighter in his chair. "No, you didn't. Please tell me you didn't find a girl willing to sneak around Wollerton's office and spy for us."
Steed's smile broadened. "Well, it was rather difficult, but in the end—"
"I knew it," Gambit exclaimed, flinging himself out of his chair and pacing up the length of the office. "There's always a catch. You always have to do something clever, don't you? Is this your way of punishing me for--?" He let the sentence hang. No, better not to go there. Even Gambit knew his limits. Aside from Berlin, there had been an incident at Steed's Christmas party just before Gambit had departed for Canada. Or non-incident, more like, but Gambit knew what he'd done, and what Steed had seen, and he knew that the senior agent was unlikely to be pleased with him for it. Gambit didn't regret it, not really, but he knew the thing to do would be to assuage Steed's fears. But when he pulled stunts like this, Gambit felt less guilty about it. Two could play at this game.
"We need a woman for this assignment," Steed said after a moment, calmly, when a sufficient amount of time had passed that it was unlikely they'd say anything they'd regret. "That's all. You said yourself that Wollerton and his people will be on the alert for an agent in their midst. A woman is less likely to raise suspicion. I made some inquiries and discovered that Wollerton is in need of an extra secretary over the hectic holiday season. One of his own took her vacation, and refuses to come back. Apparently he's less-than-pleasurable to work for." He walked round the desk to where Gambit stood, rubbing his face irritably. "If you have a better idea, you're welcome to share it."
Gambit scowled at him, a look of pure poison. "You know I don't. But this goes against everything we agreed. You promised me that I'd work with you, not anyone else. The whole reason I joined your damn 'stable' was because you promised me I wouldn't need to have another partner."
"And I haven't broken that promise," Steed argued. "I didn't say she was going to be permanent. These are special circumstances. I can't send you in. I don't know about you, but I don't think your shorthand will pass muster." He regarded Gambit's sour expression and sighed. "She'll play her role, just for this one assignment. Then she'll go back to her life. But I can't see the harm in having someone else to keep an eye on you—sober second thought."
Gambit snorted. "You want the Canadian Senate following me around? I thought that was your job?" He saw Steed's bemused look and elaborated. "The girl that met me on Parliament Hill in Canada—she gave me a bit of a tour, red chamber included."
Steed smiled a little, knowing that a different chamber entirely was likely the next stop on the tour. "It can't hurt, to have some back-up, particularly after you took those three bullets over the wall. Someone needs to look out for you. I can't be there all the time."
"Could've fooled me," Gambit muttered. "What's this girl's name, anyway?"
"Purdey Bryde," Steed informed.
Gambit thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Never heard of her. Which class is she?"
"1976," Steed revealed, and caught Gambit's incredulous look. "Yes, she's a trainee, but she's due to pass her tests early next year, and she's incredibly talented. Passing all her courses with flying colours. I think you'll be quite pleased with her." He eyed Gambit meaningfully, trying to appeal to the younger man's known weaknesses.
"Oh, no," Gambit said knowingly, shaking a reproving finger at his boss. "I don't care if she's Marilyn Monroe with a degree in combat. You're not getting me that easily. She does her bit, and then she leaves. Right?"
Steed widened his eyes in mock alarm. "You don't object to working with women, do you?"
"Of course I don't!" Gambit countered. "I love women. If you ever need a fresh insight, another take, go to the opposite sex. You remember Sara? I've asked her advice loads of times."
Steed recalled Gambit's cousin, the woman who had put Gambit on to the Ministry to begin with. Mike did have a point—he'd relied on the girl a great deal whilst he put his life back together after…well, certain events that Steed knew he was lucky to be privy to. He felt a wave of guilt as he recalled that the confiding of those events to Steed had brought Gambit round to working with him. Had made Mike trust him. And now he was betraying that trust to a certain extent, going behind his back and setting him up with Purdey, even if he thought it would do him good.
"Well then, I think you and Purdey will get along, as well. She's really very talented." He went back to his desk, found Purdey's file, returned to Gambit and handed it over. "Have a look at her scores."
Gambit took the dossier grudgingly, opened it and skimmed the contents. His eyebrows climbed in admiration.
"She is good," he admitted, then saw Steed's pleased expression and flipped it closed. "But that's in the classroom. It's a totally different environment out there. You'd better not be putting her life on the line. If she's not ready for fieldwork…"
"She is," Steed asserted confidently. "She only needs a chance to prove it. And even if she does get herself into a spot of trouble, you'll be there to help her out of it again."
"I thought she was meant to be supervising me?" Gambit said wryly, arching an eyebrow. "But you're right. I'm not going to let anything happen to her just because you want to prove a point. Poor Purdey—" He consulted the file to remind himself of the girl's last name. He'd missed it after hearing her Christian name; it had been so unusual for a girl. "Purdey Bryde. What did she do to deserve being saddled with us?"
"A 96% on her first run through the target range," Steed reminded.
Gambit ignored him. "Purdey," he repeated, tapping the file thoughtfully. "That's quite the name for a girl. Was her father a shotgun fanatic?"
Steed smirked. "You'll have to ask her when she arrives. She's due any minute."
Gambit's head snapped up in surprise. "What, now? You've got her coming now?"
"We haven't any time to waste," Steed said seriously, brow furrowed. "Anyway, no time like the present."
Gambit shot Steed another look, and walked over to deposit Purdey's file on his desk. He wandered off to the opposite end of the office, away from the door. "Pity. She just missed my good mood by about ten minutes."
"I'm sure she'll cope," Steed said with practiced unconcern.
"What can you tell me about her?" Gambit hated to admit it, but he was curious now. There was no way of getting out of this, so he decided he may as well gather as much intel as he could.
"Oh, just what you've seen in the file. And that she's bright. Enthusiastic. Energetic."
"Did you tell her about me at all?" Gambit asked carefully.
Steed smirked again. "I told her that despite her perceptions, you were a good agent."
"Perceptions?" Gambit repeated, screwing his face up in annoyance. "Oh, brilliant. She probably thinks I'm some sort of—"
"Ah," Steed interrupted, turning to the door. "Here she is."
Gambit turned to look at the figure stepping through the doorway. He hadn't been entirely certain what to expect from this new girl, but he definitely hadn't anticipated the overpowering sense of familiarity.
I know you.
He didn't, though. He was sure of it. He'd never seen the girl before in his life. He would have remembered, too, because she was beautiful. Tall, slim, shapely, endless legs. Her figure was made up of fine bones, but together they added up to something sleek and graceful, not fragile. On the contrary, there was an inner strength there, a core of reserves to be drawn upon. The jaw was cut wickedly sharp, the mouth full and sensuous, and the bright blue eyes were inordinately large. Those same eyes had humour behind them, and Gambit didn't fail to notice a sharp glimmer of intelligence. Smart as a whip. Bright. Incisive. She'd have to be to get as far as she had. She wore it proudly, but not in an uppity way. He could tell from her bearing that she wouldn't suffer fools gladly, but also that she didn't need to constantly remind you of her credentials to keep her ego inflated. She was blonde, her long hair falling over her shoulders in gentle waves. She moved with grace and confidence, each foot placed with elegant sureness. She was clad in the standard white blouse and black skirt issued to all female Ministry trainees. Gambit didn't mix with the trainee agents at all, so he certainly couldn't have met her. But there was something about her, something undeniable. She was different. She was important. She was…something. He didn't know quite what, but she was making his heart beat faster. He'd never met a girl who'd captured his attention quite and held it quite so quickly.
The fantastic creature was approaching him, bright blue eyes clearly giving him a once-over just the way he was her. Gambit only hoped the impression he was making was half as favourable. He definitely wanted to get to know her better. The man of the world in him was urging him to turn on the charm, but something about the girl's demeanour told him she would find the 'smooth operator' approach less-than-enticing. As he'd already put her down as one who wouldn't suffer fools gladly, he didn't want to give her a reason to classify him as one before they had a chance to get better acquainted.
She was agonisingly close now. Even with the heels, he still had a good three or four inches over her. He liked tall girls, and she fit the bill, but there was something about having a gap between them. She looked as though she could fit her head under his chin quite easily. And in his arms. He needed a chance to find out. He took a deep breath and smelt her perfume. It was familiar, too, but his brain still failed to place it. He quit trying to remember her, and focussed on meeting her instead.
Purdey, meanwhile, like Gambit, had been unsure of what to expect when she entered the office. She'd asked around after Steed had told her there would be three on the team. All her previous intel on Gambit had painted her a picture that she wasn't entirely certain she was going to like. A loner. Reckless. Womanizer. Brash. But today, gathering opinions from his fellow agents, and some of the more desirable members of the typing pool, she'd heard a few things that didn't quite jive with those descriptors. Loyal. Good agent, but damaged. Always good for pint at the pub. And, from the women who had gone beyond coffee and a chat with him, fun. Energetic. Lots of humour. Knew how to treat a woman. And never let one girl overlap with another. Apparently Mike Gambit knew how to exercise restraint. Or not bite off more than he could chew.
By the end of her allotted hour she wasn't entirely certain that there weren't two Mike Gambits running around the Ministry corridors: the good, honourable agent, and the difficult scoundrel. She wondered which one she'd see when she walked inside.
She took a deep breath and rounded the corner, stepping inside Steed's inner sanctum. And there he was.
She wasn't entirely certain how she'd imagined he'd look, but none of her mental images had quite added up to this. She'd never bothered to ask anyone what Gambit actually looked like, but she'd assumed he'd be attractive, maybe in a brash, over-confident, bruiser sort of way. She was right on one count. He was attractive.
But she hadn't expected him to be quite so slim. Not skinny, not husky. Just slim, shapely almost. The sort of man who could wear a well-cut suit, and actually take advantage of all the tailoring. Strong shoulders, slim hips, long legs, all in tip-toe condition. Purdey was a dancer by nature, and she knew an athlete when she saw one. Gambit's suit outed him as someone who, like her, started his morning with more than a few stretches. Purdey was appreciative, but also relieved. She could run, and if she was going to have a partner, she needed someone able to keep up with her. He was tall, too, probably around the same height as Steed. Purdey had never gone exclusively for tall men, but she didn't mind them, either.
Gone for? When had she started eyeing him up as a prospect? When had she even fallen into that line of thought? Well, she did know—the face. Longer, a mouth with a bowed top lip, eyebrows that kinked endearingly in a way that lent humour to his features. Strong cheekbones, a bump in the nose. Broken, likely, somewhere along the way. Maybe more than once. Jet black hair, curly despite clearly being brushed and parted that morning. A good strong face, handsome, but not unkind; confident, but not without humour. He didn't look like a bad sort at all, really. In fact, he looked a bit shell-shocked, eyeing her up much the way she was him. She could definitely see what all the Ministry women had gone for. She could see herself going for it herself, if she hadn't made a mental vow to never cross that line. Not with another agent, especially not one she was going to be working with, even temporarily. That meant no Steed, no matter how charming or enticing the prospect. And definitely not Mike Gambit. Not with his track record. She didn't care how charming he was at dinner. Or how funny he was over drinks. Or how deliciously that top lip bowed…
"Ah, Purdey." Steed's voice shattered her line of thought, and she felt herself let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She turned to Steed gratefully, glad for the distraction. The senior agent was smiling beatifically at her, extending one arm to usher her closer to where Gambit stood. "I'd like you to meet our third party. This is Mike Gambit." He turned to Gambit, hit him with a warning glance intended to remind him to behave, but Gambit knew his boss had no cause for worry. There was no way he was going to snub the beautiful woman who had just walked into his life. "Gambit," Steed went on, seeing, with more than a little pleasure, that Gambit was suddenly very keen on the idea of his new partner. "This is Purdey Bryde. She'll be assisting us with this assignment."
"Miss Bryde." His voice wasn't quite she'd been expecting, either. Lower in register, betraying the slightest trace of an accent. Cockney? Purdey felt an eyebrow raise ever so slightly. Well, Mike Gambit hadn't been born into that suit, but he sure as hell had made it his own. "It's a pleasure. I've heard nothing but good things about you." His eyes flicked meaningfully to Steed, and he grinned a little. Purdey found herself returning it automatically. It was an infectious grin, a little bit…naughty. He extended a hand. She shook it.
"As have I, Mr. Gambit," she replied, and Gambit chuckled a little. Purdey regarded him with mild bemusement. Her voice was clear and crisp, the accent posh and best described as 'cut glass.' Gambit felt another twinge of familiarity at the tones. They were lovely and enchanting, but why did he feel as though he'd heard them before, however briefly? He noticed Purdey was still looking at him oddly, and realized he should leave the thinking for later. It was making for awkward pauses.
"Sorry," Gambit explained, clearing his throat. "It's just that I, uh, got the idea that your impression of me was….less than favourable?" One of the fantastic eyebrows canted upward. "But don't worry. I'm the first to admit I'm not a saint."
Purdey got over her initial surprise at this forthrightness, composed herself. "Well, then, we already have one thing in common, Mr. Gambit. I hope we work well together."
"Yes." The voice dropped a little on the single word, almost husky. The eyes were an unusual sort of blue-green, and switched between the two depending on how the light hit them. There was humour dancing there, a cheeky twinkle that wouldn't have looked out of place on a schoolboy. And yet, there was something else there, tucked away at the back. A sadness, or…a haunting? Damaged. That's what the others had said. No one knew quite why or how, but there was definitely something in Gambit's past. Something that had marked him. She wondered what it was, and if he had ever told anyone about it.
"Well, I'm definitely very interested in seeing what you can do, Miss Bryde. In the field, and out of it." His eyes were sending another message now, loud and clear.
Purdey withdrew her hand from his warm grasp. There it was. The pass. She didn't know why she was surprised, why she thought he was going to be any different. She put on her prim face. "As am I, Mr. Gambit. And please, I like to be known as Purdey. Just Purdey."
"Mike," Gambit replied without missing a beat. "No need to stand on formality."
"If it's all the same to you," Purdey replied. "I would like to, Mr. Gambit."
"Anything you say, Miss Bryde."
Purdey narrowed her eyes at him, but he simply waggled his eyebrows at her infuriatingly. She was about to give him a piece of her mind, but Steed stepped in before she could conjure up a satisfactory reply.
"Right. Now that you've been introduced, we can get down to business." Purdey shot a look at Gambit, but he had already turned his attention to Steed. She did the same, reluctantly, crossing her arms in the process. "Now then, Purdey. I'd like you to familiarize yourself with your backstory. I doubt Wollerton will care terribly about your secretary training. He'll likely assume that you're competent if you've been sent from the agency, but you can never be too careful. And make certain that you're familiar with his business. Know his dealings backwards and forwards. We still don't know quite what we're looking for, so you'll need to keep your eyes and ears open for anything that could produce a lead."
Purdey nodded once, briskly. "I understand." Steed went to his desk and returned with a thin stack of files.
"That should keep you busy for the remainder of the day. I'd like you to drop by my home before you go in for your first day of work tomorrow morning. This is the address." He handed Purdey a card to go with the files. "It's in the country. Gambit can give you directions if you have difficulty locating it. And speaking of Gambit." He turned his attention to the younger man. "While Purdey does her homework, I want you to dig up anything and everything on Wollerton, the man. Full background check on him and anyone he's associated with in the past decade. If Wollerton's as canny as I suspect, it's unlikely he'll incriminate himself, so we may need to find someone to do it for him. Put all those connections in Files to good use, including in Button Lip downstairs."
Gambit raised an eyebrow. "You really do want the goods, don't you?" he mused, tongue venturing into his cheek briefly. "I'll see what I can do."
Steed smiled knowingly. He knew what Gambit could do, particularly in regards to the more attractive file clerks, and especially in the case of Cynthia Wentworth-Howe, the head of Button Lip, the most secret of the Ministry's archives. Despite her reputation as a tough nut, and Steed's own experiences with her, Gambit never had any trouble getting under her skin—and into the filing cabinets.
"Well, then, that ought to keep the pair of you occupied. I'll be making my own inquiries. Any questions and you can come and see me. All right?"
Purdey nodded again, shuffled the files. "Sounds straightforward enough. I'll go practice my shorthand."
Steed smirked. "An excellent idea. Gambit's is atrocious."
Gambit pulled a face, and Purdey allowed herself a satisfying chuckle at his discomfort. She was liking Steed more all the time. He clearly knew how to keep Gambit in line. She had nothing to fear on that front.
"I'll see you later, Mr. Gambit," she murmured, and turning on her heel, strode out of the office. Gambit watched her go, jaw working gently. Steed came to stand beside him, asked the inevitable question.
"Well? Any thoughts?"
Gambit shook his head slightly, let out a long breath. "She's…something. You've piqued my interested, I'll give you that much." He paused, and Steed could see there was something like uncertainty behind the blue-green eyes. "She…we haven't met before, have we?"
Steed frowned. "Not that I recall, no. I suppose it's possible. She has been around since the beginning of the year, but only in training courses. I doubt the pair of you have crossed paths." He looked at Gambit with sudden suspicion. "You haven't…?"
Gambit turned to look at him with mild annoyance. "Of course not. I never forget a girl. Which is why it's so strange…I can't place her, and I could swear I've never seen her before, but still…" He sighed and shrugged. "It's probably nothing. Déjà vu. Look, are we finished here? I'd like to, uh…" He knew Steed knew he wanted to follow Purdey, and he also knew that Steed had expected as much, but it still bothered him that he was that predictable in the senior agent's eyes. He could already see that look of smug satisfaction, and it was making him testy. He swallowed his annoyance and decided to spin it a different way. "Well, if we're going to be working together, I really should get to know her a bit better. Maybe I ought to help her with her with her files."
"If she'll let you," Steed pointed out. "By all means, go. I thought you'd be more open to her once you met. She's very bright and very promising. I don't think you'll have any problems."
Not with her legs at any rate. To Steed, he said, "This doesn't change anything. All right, so I don't hate her. That's not the point. I still don't want another partner. This is temporary."
"Of course," Steed agreed with a straight face. "I made that very clear. She's only here because we need a woman. I wouldn't dream of taking her on without your saying so." He went to his desk and took a seat, opened a folder. "Now that we've got that out of the way, don't you need to catch someone up?"
"I'll see you later," Gambit replied, exiting the office. He'd meant what he said—he wasn't going to be taking on another partner so soon after the first, no matter how well Steed had baited his trap with the gorgeous Purdey Bryde. But that didn't mean he couldn't admire her figure in the meantime. Or her legs.
And if she wasn't going to be around for long, he wanted to take every opportunity to enjoy them. He grinned and quickened his pace. There were perks to this job after all.
