9 I Heart New York
About sixteen years ago, Steed had asked Emma to marry him.
At first, Emma didn't know what to say. In fact, she stuttered and stumbled over her words, practically shaking with fright. She hadn't been expecting it. "Steed," she whispered, "I… I don't think I can."
"Well why not?" he responded. "I'm single, you're single, and I'm quite certain I love you." Steed paused. "Unless, of course, you're not sure you feel the same way."
Emma's eyes filled with tears. "But Peter--," she began.
Steed stood from his kneel, placed the ring back in his pocket, and took her trembling hands. "If you still love him," he said quietly, "you shouldn't have led me on like this, Mrs. Peel."
"I didn't lead you on!" she insisted. "I just… need more time."
"With Peter?"
Emma bit her lip and didn't reply. She averted her eyes from his perfect blue ones, terrified. There were so many things to consider when one married! Work, family, and God forbid children. Where would they live? Would they still work at the Ministry? Could they truly remain faithful to each other?
Would Peter be upset, watching her marry another while he waited loyally on the other side? Or had he already taken a partner in death, if one could do such a thing?
When she looked up, Steed was watching her, nodding. "Alright, Mrs. Peel," he told her. "I'll see you the next time we're needed." He let go of her hands, placed his hat on his head, and walked out of her flat, leaving Emma quite alone with the crushing realization of just how much she had hurt him.
Within the hour, Emma was at his door, ringing the buzzer and knocking urgently, practically begging him to answer. He did, finally, and gave her the smile of a gentleman that he could give to any woman. Furious, Emma pushed past him and into the apartment. She wanted to see the special smile he would give her when there was no one else around. The one that said he loved her.
"Good evening, Mrs. Peel," he greeted her.
She gaped. How could he be so nonchalant about it? Surely when someone said they wouldn't marry you, one would be fairly torn up. Emma swallowed the hard lump in her throat. "Good evening, Steed," she said forcefully.
And then she ran forward, jumped up so that her feet were no longer touching the ground, and kissed him so fiercely he actually stumbled backwards. She kissed him long and hard, apologizing for her mistake.
When she pulled away, there was a loving glint in his eyes again. "Didn't take you very long," he remarked.
Emma pretended to think about it. "Hm. You're right. Perhaps I should leave and come back tomorrow."
"This is one decision I won't let you back out on, so take your time," he warned.
She smiled. "I had choices with the other ones?" she asked, astounded.
"But of course!" he exclaimed. "I would never take away your freedoms like that." He grinned. "By the way, was that a yes or a no?"
Emma made a disbelieving sound and bopped him on the head, causing his hat to go down over his eyes. "I don't think my choice has ever been clearer," she alerted him.
"I need a little more clarification, if you please," Steed replied.
"Fine," Emma said, surrendering. "I love you, John Steed."
He smiled. "Wonderful." And kissed her again.
Now, Emma watched her husband pick the lock on the cage and had to smile. He loved her so much, and she loved him too. She wondered how she could have ever doubted it.
Steed fit the pin into the lock with a grunt and tried to turn it. "Damn," he muttered. "I think I jammed it."
"Bravo," she congratulated. "Not only will we not escape, but we'll have to buy Keel a new lock, too."
"He owes you an arm," Steed pointed out. "This makes us even."
Emma grinned, but it faded quickly. "Is Emery really coming to get us?" she asked, hoping against hope that her daughter wasn't.
Steed grimaced. "Yes," he confirmed as he sat down next to her. "Unfortunately, our untamed daughter is coming to spring us free." He caught her eye. "Do you think she can blow up Keel's kitchen while she's at it?"
"Or knock out his power for a week?" Emma suggested. She adjusted herself, tenderly moving her arm. "I haven't a doubt in my mind."
***
New York is the greatest place in the world. Officially. I'm sure I'd love it a lot more if I could actually vacation around in it (look at all the crazy stores!), but my parents needed me.
I guess my expression of shock and wonder betrayed me, because Melody rumpled my hair and promised, "Next time you come, I'll give you the full tour. Madame Tussauds, Statue of Liberty, Empire State, Broadway, you name it. I'll take you there."
Madame Tussauds!? There's one in London, but I've never gone, mostly because it's too expensive and because my mom likes to point out each and every flaw in all the art she sees. And yeah, that means I have no friends to go with.
I was really, really going to like Melody. Even if she was a world class criminal.
"Where do we start?" asked Nancy (we introduced her to Melody, and she wasn't too happy about it. Now she expected Mel to run the whole show while she could kick back and relax. Currently, we were in Central Park).
"With food," Alex replied. He swung the umbrella around. "This thing makes me feel invincible." Alex took a leap with the umbrella thrust out like a sword, his hat nearly falling off. "Behold!" he cried, and many pigeons flew away in fright. "I am John Steed, special agent extraordin-!" His cry was cut short by Ayla yanking the umbrella from his hands.
"Still feel invincible?" she asked smugly. She used the umbrella to point, taunting her brother. "Look, there are hot dogs over there. I've always wanted to eat a New York hot dog!"
"And you won't ever again," Melody muttered. "I'll take you guys somewhere decent. Not hot dogs, please."
"No," I said firmly. "We've got to save my parents before we do anything."
Nancy chuckled. "Emery, we're human beings, and as such we must eat. After we've done so, we can go find your parents. And change out of these ridiculous outfits."
"But it could take days to search the city!" Ayla whined.
"Are you backing out on me?" I accused.
She shook her head. "No, but New York's bigger than I imagined."
Melody snorted. "Honey, it's New York," she laughed. "What did you expect, honestly? Boise Idaho?"
"Where's that?" Alex asked. He was eyeing the umbrella in his sister's hand, obviously scheming to get it back.
I interrupted Mel's angry reply. "Okay, let's eat and get going. I would really like to get my parents back," I said, practically yelling.
To my great shock and fury, Mel shrugged. She began walking away, twirling her fingers in her hair, and singing. We stared after her, gaping. She was frickin' ditching us!
"Hey!" I called. "What the hell are you doing?" Some friends my mom had, huh?
Suddenly, someone walking the other way stopped to listen to Melody. He was very, very tall and wore paint splattered pants. Mel turned and looked at him, continuing her song. Then, out of the blue, the man started whistling along with her, the very tune she sang.
"Knew there were some around here," Melody said with a grin. "Got a job for you, brother."
He bowed, low and graceful. "Always a pleasure to serve the beautiful Melody."
My jaw dropped. This guy was a Treble! A real, legit gang member, and Mel was sending him on an errand!
Mel glanced at me. "Do you know who has Emma?" she asked me.
I blinked in confusion and fought to remember for a moment. "Um… someone named Keel. Yeah, Keel, that's right," I said. My eyes wandered to my friends. "It was Keel, right?"
"Keel?" repeated the tall guy. He rubbed his chin artistically, thoughtful. "Is that a man or woman?"
"I don't know!" I cried. "Can you help us or not?"
The man made a disapproving expression, and looked about to tell me off until Melody touched his shoulder. "Her parents are in danger," she told him. "Anyone by the name of Keel that you know?"
He shook his head. "Keel's not too common a name here in America, though. You're sure they're in New York?"
I nodded fervently. "Absolutely."
"Then I'll call up some of the musicians," the guy promised. "We'll begin a search and get back to you. Where can I find you?"
"Trump," Mel answered. "Ask for Melanie Johnson."
He saluted with a smile and walked away, drawing a phone out of his pocket as he went.
As Melody waltzed back into our group, she was met with Nancy's look of utter astonishment. "Trump?" she repeated. "Trump? I can't afford Trump!"
"What's a trump?" Ayla questioned, expertly whipping the umbrella out of Alex's reach the instant he made a grab for it.
"Donald Trump," Mel explained. "Like, The Apprentice, business man, etcetera, etcetera."
I snapped my fingers, suddenly realizing who she was talking about. "The guy with the really blond hair that never moves, right?"
"That's the one," Nancy confirmed.
"And don't you worry about affording Donald Trump," Mel stated, patting her on the back. "I'm paying."
***
Keel came down the basement stairs while Emma and Steed were asleep in each others arms. Furious, he shoved the food through the bars of the cage, the water bottles bouncing loudly and waking the happy couple. Within seconds, Keel had his gun aimed at Emma's head, but his eyes were trained on Steed.
"Who called you?" he asked, cocking the gun.
All drowsiness left Steed. His eyes snapped wide open at the sound, all senses on alert. "Called? Called who?"
"You," Keel sputtered. "Who called you?"
"Emery," he said automatically, then cursed himself for letting the information slip.
"And you told her?" he prompted, tightening his grip on the gun. Emma simply stared at him, not scared or frightened in any way. She had absolute confidence in her husband's ability to protect her.
"That we were coming home soon," Steed lied. "And that we were enjoying ourselves immensely."
Keel gazed at him intensely, searching for any sort of lie in Steed's eyes. He could find none, and thus lowered the gun. "I don't know what I'm waiting for," he growled. Suddenly, he whirled around and punched the wall. "Lois should have been back with the little skank hours ago! Where is she?" In an enraged huff, he went back up the stairs.
Steed blinked and decided not to worry about Keel's behavior. Instead, he looked around the basement, once again plotting escape. There was an old desk next to what appeared to be a closet, and canned food stacked along one wall. In the back corner, nearly enshrouded in darkness, was a piano.
A thought occurred to Steed. "Emma, darling," he began, "we were sent here to investigate a gang, correct?"
Emma looked thoughtful. "I believe so," she said.
"Was this gang the Trebles?"
At the mention of this gang, Emma stiffened. "Do you think Melody might have something to do with this?"
"I don't think she has anything to do with Keel, but perhaps with the reason we came here in the first place," he told her. He paused. "…Would she recognize Emery if she saw her?"
Emma pursed her lips. "Where is your brain going, John?"
Steed turned to his wife, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Down the same trail as our daughter's and Melody's, I think."
