Rough Diamond

By J. Ferguson a.k.a. Timeless A-Peel

Disclaimer: I don't own The New Avengers, nor any of the associated characters. They belong to The Avengers (Film and TV) Enterprises. I don't own Sapphire and Steel, nor the characters of Sapphire and Steel themselves. They're the property of ITC Entertainment Group story is written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended.

Author's Note: So things are still really busy, and one thing or another kept me away from this fic for longer than I ever intended. Part of the problem is that I decided to expand it slightly, so I had to find time to make the additions. Hopefully it's a better fic for it, but regardless, I haven't abandoned it, and it will all get posted at some point. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the new chapter, delayed as it is.

As promised, Gambit took Purdey on a tour of the immediate vicinity surrounding their accommodations. Purdey thanked heaven that her training had taught her how to quickly get her bearings in a unfamiliar location, well aware that Sapphire and Steel could be around any corner. If pursued, she couldn't afford to make a wrong turn.

Once she was satisfied she could at the very least avoid any dead ends, and could find her way back to the flat from any direction, they returned to Gambit's home away from home. The light shining in through the windows was dying as they entered, and Purdey fought to stifle a yawn, though not well enough to fool her partner.

"You're tired," he sympathised. "Don't blame you after the day you've had."

Purdey shook her head, blinking away her heavy lids. "I'm all right."

"No, you're not," Gambit contradicted knowingly, disappearing into the bedroom. "You should get some sleep, though you'll probably want a bath first." He re-emerged with a towel in hand, handed it to her. "Like I said, the hot water's in short supply, so you might want to go in now, beat the rush."

Purdey took the towel. "What about you?"

Gambit grinned. "It's 1927. Ladies first."

"How refreshing," Purdey said brightly. "Perhaps you ought to spend more time here. You could become a whole new man."

"I was a whole new man," Gambit reminded wryly. "But his name was Frederick Norton, and I can't risk playing him anymore, so you're stuck with me."

"Pity," Purdey lamented, though her eyes told him she didn't mean it. "Well, I won't be long."

Gambit smiled at her as she left, waited until the door was closed to retreat to the bedroom. He opened the tiny closet, and faced the mirror hung inside the door. Taking a deep breath, he shrugged off his jacket, and started to unbutton his shirt.

The bathroom wasn't glamourous by any stretch of the imagination, but the door locked, and at least it was clean, so Purdey wasn't about to complain. She folded the towel and set it on a chair tucked in the corner, then perched on the corner of the tub, put the plug in, and turned the taps on. She watched as the water flowed in, the swirling currents soothing, the rush of the tap drowning out the sounds of 1927 life filtering in from outside, and for a moment she forgot when she was. It was only when she got up, looked in the mirror above the sink, and caught sight of her reflection clad in period costume, that she was reminded of the enormity of it all. She fought down a brief burst of panic. That wouldn't do anyone any good. All the same, she stripped the foreign garments off quickly, then bent to swirl the water in the tub, testing the temperature. Mindful of the other tenants, she shut the water off when the tub was only half full. She didn't want to make enemies of the neighbours by using all the hot water, and there was no way of knowing how long she would be trapped in an era that was not her own.

It was strange, Purdey mused, as she lowered herself into the water. This morning, she'd woken up in 1977. Tonight, she was going to go to sleep in 1927. She was breathing 1927 air, soaking in 1927 water. She could accept it until she really thought about it, and then her mind rebelled wildly at the notion. "Mike Gambit, you do put me in the most disconcerting situations sometimes," she said out loud, though without malice, before submerging herself up to her nose.

When Purdey walked back into the bedroom after her bath, clothes clinging uncomfortably to her damp skin, she received more of an eyeful than she intended. "Oh, sorry!" she apologised, the second she laid eyes on Gambit's naked back, but by the time he'd whirled round, prurience had turned to concern. The light in the bedroom was poor, but not dim enough to hide the legion of bruises marring his torso. "Gambit, what happened?"

"Nothing," Gambit said shortly, snatching his shirt off the bed and moving to put it on. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Nothing?" Purdey exclaimed incredulously, throwing the towel on the bad and striding over to him. She took hold of one of his arms before he could get the shirt on, turned it this way and that. "Gambit, they're everywhere. I've seen you with fewer bruises after a beating." She circled him once, confirming that the pattern was repeated all the way around, back to stomach, until she was facing him once again. "It's the travelling, isn't it? It wasn't only the nosebleed. It's caused damage everywhere." She pursed her lips grimly. "Why didn't you say something? You might be bleeding internally!"

"If I was, I'd be dead by now," Gambit countered, pulling the shirt on and doing the buttons up hurriedly. "Anyway, it's none of your business. It's my body, not yours."

"It certainly is my concern," Purdey shot back. "If you die, I'll be trapped here, and that won't do either of us much good, will it?" She pushed her fringe back in exasperation. "If coming here caused that much damage, how on earth are you going to survive another trip back? If you tried now—"

"Then it's a good thing I don't have to try now, isn't it?" Gambit cut in gruffly, then immediately regretted his tone. He sighed and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to massage away a growing headache. "Sorry. I...let's get some sleep, and figure it out in the morning, okay?"

Purdey's expression softened in turn. It had been a trying day for both of them, and she realised she was forgetting that. "Yes, all right," she agreed. "I left the water in the bath." Gambit removed his hands and regarded her with bemusement. "You said there wasn't much hot water," she elaborated, pointing in the direction of the bathroom. "So I left mine in. It's still quite warm, so you shouldn't have to worry about running out. If you don't mind soaking in all the dust I picked up today, that is."

Gambit's mouth quirked up at one side. It was a tired smile, but a welcome one. "You're not that dirty, Purdey," he opined. "Though I hope I can fix that, one of these days."

"Yes, well, you'll need a bit more than a day in 1927 to achieve that," Purdey said pertly, though she couldn't help her mouth turning up at the sides.

"I'll bear that in mind." He crossed to the chest of drawers, opened the top one. "I have these," he told Purdey, picking up a pair of striped pajamas for her to see. "Just the one pair. I don't have many guests, so they'll have to do. May be a bit big on you, but it's too late to buy new ones for the night."

Purdey eyed the garments appraisingly, took the shirt from him and let gravity unfold it. "I'll take the top," she decided. "It's more than long enough for a night-shirt. You can have the bottoms. We'll spare the other occupants receiving an eyeful."

"You're sure?"

"Positive." Purdey laid the garment on the bed, then turned to him with crossed arms. "Go on, have your bath. Hurry up before someone else gets to the water before you. I'll change while you're gone."

Gambit locked the bathroom door securely behind him, lay his towel and the pajama bottoms on the chair, then went to the bath. A quick test of the water revealed that Purdey was, indeed, correct—it was still warm, and looked barely used. Gambit stripped off and sighed as the bruises were revealed on his legs as well. He knew he was lucky he hadn't burst an artery, but he had a feeling that luck wouldn't last if he had to travel again soon. If he had a few days, a week ideally, he thought he just might be able to manage it. But he knew the likelihood of Sapphire and Steel being that accommodating was low indeed.

He faced himself in the bathroom mirror, turned the sink tap to cold, and splashed his face a few times, taking comfort in the bracing shock of the cold that told him he was alive. Only then did he raise his head, locked eyes with his reflection as water dripped down his face. "This is your mess," he told himself. "Whatever happens, you get her back safe. No matter what it costs."

Promise made, he allowed himself the luxury of the bath. For all he knew, it could be his last.

When he returned, Purdey was sitting cross-legged on the bed, hair damp and tousled, waiting for him expectantly. "I thought you might be asleep by now," he said, laying his clothes in one the wardrobe drawers.

"Well, I couldn't very well go to bed until I knew which side you'd be taking," Purdey pointed out. "Otherwise you might sit on me in the dark. So which is it? Left or right?"

Gambit allowed himself a small smile. That was a question he'd been waiting to hear for years, but it had been asked in far from the right context. "Neither. I'm taking a chair."

Purdey pulled a face. "You're not going to get any sleep that way," she argued. "You'll be horribly uncomfortable, especially with all those bruises."

"I'll be all right. I've slept in worse."

"I'm sure you have, but that's not the problem. You're never going to heal if you don't sleep. And if you don't heal, we can't get home, and that's not going to help either of us. So choose." She pointed at opposite sides of the bed, crossing her arms over one another in the process. "Left or right?"

Gambit sighed, knowing when he'd been beaten. "Right," he decided. "Look, are you sure you're okay with this?"

Purdey was already climbing under the covers. "Why not? Even if you do try anything, which I very much doubt, all I have to do is poke you in one of your bruises and you'll be gone in an instant. I'm more concerned about whether you'll monopolise the covers and how loud you'll snore."

"I don't snore," Gambit defended, switching off the light and pulling back the covers to settle in beside her, then added, "that loud."

"So the covers are what I need to look out for, then," Purdey said brightly, and even in the dark, he could sense her grin. They lay in silence for a moment. Then she spoke again. "I know after everything that's happened I should be tired, but I don't even want to close my eyes." She paused and considered. "Perhaps I'm suffering from time-travel lag." When Gambit turned his head to regard her, she explained. "Like jet lag, but for people crossing decades instead of time zones."

Gambit chuckled at the notion. "Wouldn't surprise me. Once you get past the time travel, anything's possible."

"What's the farthest back you've ever gone?" Purdey wanted to know, turning on her side to face him, and propping herself up on her elbow.

Gambit made a moué and thought back. "Sometime in the 1700s, I think. But I don't really like going too far back. The language changes, and the chances of someone noticing you're out of place go up, so I try to avoid it, stick to eras closer to ours." He shifted onto his own side to face her. "It's like that old cliché. The past is a foreign country, and the further back you go, the fewer touchstones you have. You're too busy worrying about not offending someone and getting thrown in prison to actually enjoy yourself."

"I suppose," Purdey agreed. "No one would ever mistake you for a Roman Centurion, anyway."

"Just as well. We didn't have Latin at my school," Gambit quipped, and Purdey giggled.

"What about the future, then? You must have gone there."

"Not as often as you'd think," Gambit told her.

Purdey was disbelieving. "Oh, come on. You must want to see where you are in the future?"

"Not really," Gambit countered. "What if I went looking and found out I die a year from now, or five years, or ten? Or worse, what if I found out how you died? Or Steed? What if I tried to stop it, and ended up making it happen? I don't think I could live with that." He shook his head. "It sounds like a great opportunity. Go forward and figure out how to win the Irish Sweepstakes. But there are costs, things we were never meant to know about. I do it for fun, Purdey. For an escape. If I found out something life-changing, I don't want to live out the rest of my life trying to stop something from happening. That wouldn't be living. That'd be slavery." He met her eyes. "Do you understand?"

"I suppose," Purdey allowed, though she looked rather disappointed. "But I was rather hoping for some good stories, a flying car or two."

Gambit grinned. "Sorry, Purdey-girl. The few times I have gone forward, there wasn't a single flying car to be found."

"Pity," Purdey lamented, pondering her next question. "Well, have I ever met another one of you, then? From the past? Or the future?"

"No-oo..." Gambit replied carefully, as though holding something back.

Purdey regarded him suspiciously. "What does that mean?"

Gambit turned his head and shot her a look. "It means no, you've never met me out of sequence," he said firmly, brooking no argument.

"All right, all right," Purdey pulled a face at his tone. "No need to get tetchy. Have you ever met yourself, then? Or are you going to bite my head off for asking that as well?"

Gambit sighed and looked repentant for snapping at her. "Now that I have done," he confided, letting a smile play over his lips, hoping to make up for being short with her. Purdey forgave him and grinned back, because this was a story she definitely wanted to hear.

"What was it like?"

"Embarrassing," Gambit admitted. "Both times. I forgot my keys to this flat." He indicated their current surroundings. "I meant to jump back to the time when I'd left, but I miscalculated, and, well..." He shrugged. "I ended up three months into the future. I was just lucky I was the only one in the flat at the time, but I still gave myself a start popping out of thin air. Spilt the coffee all over the carpet."

Purdey laughed at the absurdity of it all. "What on earth did you say to future you?"

"Not much," Gambit admitted. "I didn't want to know anything that had happened, or even when it was, and since he was me, he didn't want to tell me, either. I explained I'd gotten it wrong, he—I—understood, and there were a couple of painful minutes while I tried to reorient myself again. It was the most awkward silence I've ever had to live through. And I had to do it twice, without knowing when past me was going to pop up again. I had a rough estimate, but still, it was hell waiting for it to happen." He rubbed his face anxiously. "I don't know which was worse: knowing it was coming up one day, or being blind-sided when it actually happened."

Purdey whistled softly. "Two Gambits," she ruminated. "The mind races."

Gambit peeked at her through his fingers. "Should I be flattered or terrified by what you're thinking?" he inquired, voice muffled by his palm.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Purdey said mysteriously, patting him comfortingly on the shoulder. "I think I can sleep now. I may have some very interesting dreams."

"Hmph." Gambit pulled the covers up as though suddenly very conscious of his bare chest.

Purdey grinned. "Don't tell me you're jealous of yourself, Mike Gambit? That would be a new low, even for you."

"I thought you said you weren't going to tell me what you were thinking," Gambit grumbled.

"I'm not," Purdey agreed cheerfully. "But I'm sure, if you think hard enough, you'll be able to come up with lots of very good guesses." And with that, she turned over, away from him, but Gambit felt the bed tremble with suppressed laughter for at least a quarter of an hour after that.

Gambit awoke the next morning, and fought a brief burst of panic when he realised Purdey was no longer in the bed. He sat bolt upright, eyes scanning the room for any sign of the girl. "Purdey?" he called, trying to reassure himself that he would have woken up had Sapphire or Steel found their way into the room and taken Purdey, but given that the extent of their powers was still more or less unknown to him, it wasn't something he could rule out. As a result, he was more than a little relieved when Purdey appeared in the doorway, fully dressed and carefully folding a wad of notes she'd withdrawn from the bank the previous day.

"No need to shout. I was only in the next room," she chastised, and Gambit flopped back on the bed with relief.

"I thought you'd been grabbed," he confessed to the ceiling, scrubbing his face with his hands.

"I was," Purdey told him, but when his head snapped up in surprise, she added, "You tried to cuddle at least twice last night. I can tell you don't always sleep alone." Her expression was amused but clearly unsurprised.

"Did I?" He honestly couldn't remember anything after their conversation. He'd fallen asleep shortly after, and slept like the proverbial dead. "Sorry. If I, uh, grabbed anything I shouldn't have, I can honestly say I wasn't awake when it happened."

Purdey smirked at his discomfort, but uncharacteristically let him off the hook. "You didn't. You thrashed around a lot. I think you subconsciously wanted to make sure I was still there." She cocked her head thoughtfully. "It was rather tricky trying to get up to use the loo, though."

Gambit's laugh was one of relief, and released some of his pent-up tension. "Sorry," he repeated, glad that he hadn't unconsciously done anything that would land him in Purdey's bad books, which was the last thing he needed at the moment. He nodded at the money in her hand. "Going shopping?"

"We need breakfast," Purdey asserted. "I've had a look your stores, which are a bit uninspiring, so I thought I'd go and get us some supplies. The kitchen's a bit basic, but I think I can make a decent omelette."

Gambit shook his head in mild disbelief, a smile stretching his features. Classic Purdey. Her first thought upon waking up fifty years in the past was not born of concern for her predicament, but for her appetite. There was something reassuring about that.

"Anything you have a particular craving for?" Purdey wanted to know, stashing the notes in a pocket. "Or is it up to the chef's discretion?"

"Anything," Gambit told her, realising he was feeling a bit peckish himself. "Anything except marshmallows."

Purdey pouted. "You would say that," she grumbled. "That was going to be the main ingredient."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Gambit asked wryly. "I'll get dressed in the meantime. Where are you going?"

"Just around the corner."

Gambit nodded, pushing back the blankets and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "Keep an eye open, just in case."

Purdey nodded and departed with a smile. Gambit stretched out the stiffness caused by the less-than-forgiving mattress, and then set about examining his bruises in the light of day.

Purdey already had one bag of groceries in hand, and had drifted to another grocer with the intent of acquiring a second, when a flash of blue caught the corner of her eye. She immediately ducked behind a small stall selling fruit, peering over the apples in search of the source. What she saw made her blood run cold.

It was her. Or rather, the woman who looked like her, if she grew her hair out, resplendent in blue, with a fair-haired man by her side. Sapphire and Steel, unquestionably. And the way their heads turned this way and that as they scanned the early morning crowd of shoppers told her they were looking for something. Or someone.

Purdey swallowed hard, mentally mapped out her immediate surroundings. Sapphire and Steel were in the way of her direct route back to Gambit's flat, but she could take a roundabout route and avoid them, though it would take longer. She only hoped she could reach Gambit before they did.

Purdey clattered up the stairs two at a time, but as she approached the flat door, she forced her breathing to slow down, and approached it silently. She put an ear to the door, listened carefully for the telltale sounds of multiple occupants, or any other sign that Gambit wasn't alone. She heard nothing. Slowly, carefully, she opened the door, peering inside. She was just in time to catch Gambit coming out the bedroom, dressed now and adjusting his cuffs. Quickly she ducked inside, closing the door behind her.

Gambit looked up at her in surprise. "Back already? From grocery shopping? I had you down for another half hour at least."

Purdey ignored the teasing. "I saw them," she hissed urgently, and Gambit snapped to attention immediately.

"Who?" The single word was terse and clipped.

"Sapphire and Steel, of course," Purdey said impatiently, moving to put her groceries on the table. "Who else? They were at the market."

"You're sure it was them?"

Purdey treated him to a glare. "She looks exactly like me," she reminded. "I think I know my own face when I see it. And Steel's with her as well."

Gambit swore, jaw working madly. "Did they see you?"

"No, but they must know we're here, somewhere. They were looking."

"Of course they were." Gambit snatched up the last of the money off the table, where Purdey had left it. "There's nothing for it, then. We have to go, try to travel back to our own time."

"In your condition?" Purdey exclaimed. "You'll kill us both. You haven't even had 24 hours to recover."

"We don't have a choice," Gambit shot back. "Besides, if I can boost the signal using the location, it might make it easier. Either way, we have to try, because I have the feeling our chances of surviving won't be any better if Sapphire and Steel get ahold of us."

"Can't we just relocate? Abandon the flat?"

"Where we are isn't the problem. It's when," Gambit contradicted. "If they've figured out which year we escaped to, it won't be hard for them to get a fix. They don't need to walk, remember. They can pop up anywhere. If we keep moving, it might throw them off for awhile, but we can't move forever, and I have the feeling that they don't need to stop and rest like we do." He set his mouth in a thin line. "No, Purdey. This is our only chance. The longer we stand here arguing about it, the worse our chances are."

Purdey opened her mouth to protest, but realised he was right. Much as she hated to admit it, they were painfully low on options. "How do we get there?" she asked instead, and Gambit relaxed visibly when he saw she was no longer going to argue.

"Train," he said simply, catching hold of her arm and ushering her out.