Same Time Next Year

Disclaimer: I don't own The New Avengers, nor the characters of Mike Gambit, Purdey, and John Steed. Sadly. They're the property of The Avengers (Film and TV) Enterprises. This story is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended

Timeline: Ninth in a series. Takes place in November, 1977, a few months after the conclusion of the series in the Canadian episodes. It is strongly recommended, but not essential, that you go back and read the previous stories in the arc: Lost Boys, Anew, Aftermath, Dance With Me, The Anniversary, Merry Christmas, Mr. Gambit, Brazil, Life on Mars, and 'Til Death.

For more information about the series, please see my profile.


"Steed!" Purdey exclaimed in surprise the next morning, upon opening Gambit's flat door to find the senior agent on the other side. She resisted the urge to give herself a quick onceover, to check if there was anything about her appearance that might give away that she had spent the night in Gambit's flat—and bed. Squirming around in a tizzy would have been rather obvious, so Purdey had to content herself with a quick mental inventory of what she had done that morning, reassuring herself that her clothes were, indeed, clean and pressed, her hair was impeccably groomed, her makeup flawlessly applied. She'd driven her own car over the day before, so there wasn't a lack of a vehicle to raise suspicions. So long as Steed didn't question the earliness of her 'visit' to her partner, she thought they were probably safe. "Gambit and I were just about to come in together," she began, hoping her voice sounded more level than it did in her head. She tamped down any residual panic and forced herself to appear nonchalant. "We're not late for a meeting or anything, are we?"

"I can confirm, without a shadow of a doubt, that you are not late for anything, Purdey," Steed assured, removing his bowler as he stepped inside. "But I'm afraid this isn't a social visit." He looked meaningfully at Gambit, who was standing at the counter, sipping his coffee. "Although you know that already, don't you?"

Purdey was looking from one man to the other in frustration. "You two and your telepathy! Gambit, what's he talking about?"

Gambit set his coffee cup down with a sigh, met Steed's eyes. "It's Vanessa, isn't it?" he surmised.

Steed nodded in confirmation. "She's slipped the net."

Purdey blanched. "What?"

Steed regarded her grimly. "Surveillance lost track of her two hours ago, and they haven't as yet been able to pick up her trail."

"They won't," Gambit asserted, hands tightly gripping the edge of the counter until the knuckles went white. "Not until she's done whatever it is she wants to do, anyway. They've only stayed on her this long because she let them."

"Then we need to find her ourselves," Purdey said with feeling. "If they can't do it, it's up to us. She can't be left free to wander the city."

"I'm afraid that might prove rather difficult," Steed said, regret lining his features. "Informing you of Vanessa's status was a courtesy on my part. The real reason for my visit is to tell Gambit in person what McKay could have told him over the phone." He met Gambit's eyes. "Given recent events, you've been placed on indefinite leave, effective immediately."

"What?!" Purdey's eyes were flashing with outrage. "They can't do that. He hasn't done anything wrong. There was that slip-up during the assignment yesterday, but it wasn't serious enough to warrant being taken off duty."

"It's not what I've done," Gambit said tiredly, surprisingly unfazed by the revelation. "It's what I might do." He looked to Steed. "They're worried I might be a liability. If Vanessa targets someone else to get to me."

"That's ridiculous!" Purdey exclaimed. "Steed, you can't let them do this. It isn't fair. We don't even know that she's here for Gambit. You have to talk to McKay."

"I already have. All morning, in fact. But it hasn't changed the outcome. Gambit's lucky that he's not being imposed upon further—McKay could have been much less lenient."

"It's not right," Purdey fumed. "Mike, are you going to let them do this?"

"I don't have much of a choice," Gambit replied pragmatically. "And they're right."

"What?"

"I am a liability," he said flatly. "It's my past, and mine alone. No one else should have to suffer for it."

Purdey shook her head. "That shouldn't matter. Not after everything you've done for the Ministry. I could name half a dozen agents who are still alive because of you without even trying. How can they be willing to turn on you with your service record?"

"It's one of the less admirable features of the profession, I agree," Steed concurred. "You're useful until you're not, no matter how much goodwill you've stored away over the years."

Purdey crossed her arms, still incredibly displeased. "What are we meant to do in the meantime?

"Well, hopefully they'll find her soon and put her away, and Gambit will be restored to his rightful place at our sides," Steed offered optimistically. "But in the meantime, you and I are expected to carry on as normal."

Purdey snorted derisively. "I'll do no such thing."

"Please, Purdey," Gambit pleaded. "It's not your problem. Making life hard for yourself won't help me, but it'll hurt you. I don't want that."

"What about what I want?" Purdey shot back. "They discredit my partner and I'm supposed to carry on as normal?"

"Gambit does have a point," Steed said gently. "And to be honest, Purdey, you're rather more involved in all of this than you might think."

Purdey frowned. "What do you mean?"

Steed sighed, looked from one of his colleagues to the other with a certain amount of trepidation. "I wasn't going to ask about this unless it interfered with the job, and so far it hasn't. But I rather think we've crossed that line now."

Purdey's patience had worn thin. "What line?"

"The personal one." Steed regarded them both seriously. "I realise this is highly indiscreet, but events beyond my control have contrived to make it necessary for me to ask, so—" His expression shifted, and he regarded Purdey and Gambit cheerily. "—is there anything I ought to know about what's transpired between the pair of you recently? I don't need details, just a basic grasp of the facts."

Purdey and Gambit exchanged resigned glances. "Well, it was nice while it lasted," Gambit said with an accepting shrug. "Do you want to tell him, or should I?"

Purdey bit her lip. "We were going to tell you, Steed. Eventually."

"Tell me what, exactly?" the senior agent wanted to know.

"Oh really, Steed," Purdey sighed, crossing her arms in exasperation. "You already know, don't you?"

Steed bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. "I have had my suspicions," he confirmed, "but I'd prefer to hear it from you. A gentleman should never presume."

"Then you shouldn't have a problem," Gambit said with a grin, earning a hissed reproach from Purdey, and a chuckle from Steed.

"I shouldn't like to dig myself a bigger hole than I already have," Steed demurred. "If you can save me that indignity, I think it'll save a great deal of embarrassment on all our parts."

Purdey dropped her hands to her sides, but the way they were curled into fists betrayed her anxiety. "It was after Gambit turned up alive, when I'd been certain I'd seen him killed."

Steed's ears pricked up. "Go on."

Purdey's cheeks were reddening, but her voice remained remarkably steady. "It made me reconsider a lot of things," she said carefully. "About Gambit. And me. And I realised I'd almost lost my chance to be with him. I wasn't going to make that mistake again." She shrugged. "So I told him how I felt and what I wanted."

"And just about everyone knew what I wanted," Gambit put in, with a knowing smile and a fond look toward Purdey. His eyes were soft when they met hers, and the look was returned in kind. "Coming back from the dead gives you a new perspective on lots of things. And when we'd worked out that our wants coincided, there wasn't much to stop us. So now we're—"

"Involved," Purdey offered.

"Very involved," Gambit emphasised, grin broad enough to almost split his face wide open. "Although we've always been involved, haven't we, Purdey-girl? We've just finally caught up with ourselves."

Purdey held Gambit's gaze rather longer than she'd intended, and for a moment Steed thought they'd forgotten he was there. Eventually, Purdey tore her eyes from Gambit's with great effort, and said, with a certain amount of defiance, "And that's how it is. We've been trying to keep it under our hats, but I'm surprised you didn't work it out earlier."

"As I said, I've had my suspicions," Steed admitted, looking rather pleased with himself.

Gambit raised his eyebrows. "Only suspicions? I'd say that counts as a victory on our part."

Steed laughed his quick, two-note laugh. "I must confess that it wasn't the first time I suspected that something might be going on—always wrongly, it seemed. Hence why I could never be completely certain. But as long as it wasn't affecting the job, I thought you'd work it out between you, one way or another."

Purdey's eyes widened almost comically. "Steed, you mean you thought that we—that Gambit and I—were—were...? Even before it happened?"

Gambit chuckled. "You don't have to sound so offended, Purdey-girl."

Steed wagged a finger. "Again, a gentleman doesn't like to presume."

"But that didn't stop you," Gambit said with a wicked smile. "What tipped you off? Did you catch me floating ten feet off the ground one morning?"

"Something like that," Steed agreed. "Although, in my defence, I suspect you've kept rather a lot of people guessing as to what, exactly, might be going on."

"Including us," Gambit said wryly, shooting Purdey an encouraging smile. "Cheer up, Purdey-girl. If we've been keeping everyone guessing this long, they're not liable to find out any time soon. If even Steed couldn't work it out for sure, we must be doing something right."

Purdey turned to Steed, suddenly concerned. "It isn't that I didn't want to tell you, Steed. I've been trying to keep it quiet to give us some time to let things evolve without anyone looking over our shoulders. It was easier for everyone that way."

Steed treated her to a slight bow. "Purdey, I'd like to think the three of us are the sort of friends who have the sense to know when something isn't our business, and to not be offended when we're kept in the dark as a result. And unless you disagree, I'd hazard that this was one of those times."

Purdey's relief was obvious. "I'm not sure the department will be quite as forgiving. Do you think they'll find out?" she added, with a certain amount of anxiety.

Steed turned serious. "Even if they don't, Purdey, you may wind up in the line of fire regardless if Thyme is planning to come after Gambit, so you really must take care. And if this does go down a rather more unpleasant path in the future, you may find yourself being asked some unpalatable questions by someone other than me. Others may develop their own suspicions, depending on how deep they dig. If they do, it might be in your best interests to come clean about your relationship. That gives you a modicum of control over the situation." He nodded at them both. "At the very least, the pair of you ought to discuss your strategy concerning what you might do, and when."

Gambit turned grim. "If it comes to that, and they have a problem with it, I don't care if they want to sink my career. I'll go. But I don't want Purdey to have to pay for my past."

"If Gambit goes, I'm going with him. As it is, I have half a mind to go on leave myself, just on principle," Purdey said curtly, crossing her arms defiantly. "But then they'd question me anyway, wouldn't they? It's not as if I'm known for being objective where Gambit is concerned, regardless of what's going on between us. If they think I'm somehow involved, lying about where I sleep isn't exactly going to protect me, is it?"

"I'm loath to agree with you, but I'm afraid you're right," Steed lamented. "You're involved by association, regardless of what happens. So am I, if it comes to it. We'll all have to tread carefully. But if you were to go on leave now, out of solidarity, I'm afraid it'll draw the sort of attention neither you nor Gambit can afford at the moment." He smiled conspiratorially. "Not to mention that you'll be able to learn infinitely more to help Gambit if you stay 'on the inside', so to speak."

"Spying on the spies," Purdey surmised. "It would be corny if it wasn't so horribly fatalistic."

"Oh, come now, it's not that bad," Steed soothed. "We don't know that things are going to carry on as they are, or that they'll get worse. Gambit will bide his time, and we'll keep our eyes and ears open, and stay on the alert." He glanced from one to the other reassuringly. "It's a less than ideal situation, but not a hopeless one. And the first thing to do is go in this morning and not cause a fuss."

Purdey sighed. "Oh, all right. But I'm not happy about it."

Steed canted an eyebrow at Gambit. "I was expecting her to protest rather more vehemently. She really does care about you."

"Steed!" Purdey huffed, but she was blushing slightly.

Gambit's smile was tender. "The feeling's mutual."

"But you won't tell anyone?" Purdey pressed, regarding Steed intently. "Will you, Steed?"

Steed's smile was warm. "I won't say a word. As I said, unless it impinges on the job in some way that I can't condone, it's none of my concern, though others will undoubtedly disagree." He gifted them both a bright smile. "And as it stands, I'm rather pleased for you both. I wish you every happiness and all the luck in the world."

"Steed!" Purdey flung herself forward and hugged him tight, earning a delighted laugh from the senior agent. She'd only just pulled away when she felt Gambit step in behind her, and released him so Steed could shake Gambit's extended hand.

"Not the first time you've played matchmaker, I'll bet," Gambit said knowingly.

"Oh, I think you're giving me too much credit," Steed demurred. "All I did was spot two people I thought might work well together. The pair of you did the rest."

"He's preparing his defence in case it all goes south, and McKay wants someone to blame," Gambit quipped to Purdey, earning a nudge in the ribs.

"You are happy, then." Steed was regarding them curiously now, observing their dynamic and realising how much had changed, and how much it had stayed the same.

"What do you think?" Gambit murmured, gaze drifting back to Purdey. "My feet haven't touched the ground in weeks."

"And as much as I hate to inflate that ego any further," Purdey chipped in, eyes shining when they met Gambit's, "yes, I'm quite happy, thank you."

"Excellent!" Steed enthused. "It's better to have something positive to hold onto, particularly if things go rather pear-shaped in this investigation."

Purdey looked worried again, Steed's words chasing away her smile. "Do you really think they will? Are the odds against us so terrible?"

"I think we have to be prepared for every eventuality," Steed said frankly. "And from the way Gambit's looking at me, I suspect he agrees."

Purdey wheeled around to look at the man in question, and was rewarded with a rueful smile. "We've got to be realistic, Purdey-girl. There's a good chance I won't have a single secret left by the time this is over, and that includes you."

Purdey pondered this particular quandary for a moment, then tilted her chin up defiantly. "Then they'll find out," she said simply. "Because I'd rather have you than a secret any day."

"It may well come to that," Steed warned. "So it's just as well we know the stakes going in." He arched an eyebrow at Gambit. "I don't suppose I'd be presuming too much if I said you felt the same?"

"I don't think you can overpresume when it comes to Purdey where I'm concerned," Gambit murmured, wearing that same fond, soft, lovelorn expression Steed had noted in the early days after Purdey had joined the team. "Anyway, of all the secrets that I've had to carry over the years, Purdey's definitely the best one."

"Good," Steed said smartly. "Now that we all know where we stand, let's get back to business. Gambit, you'll be all right while we're gone?"

"I'll entertain myself somehow," Gambit assured, with a certain amount of weariness.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Purdey say dryly, moving to rest a hand alongside his cheek. "You will tell us if you see or hear anything at all, about Vanessa or otherwise?"

Gambit covered her hand with his, smiled reassuringly. "I promise."

Purdey glanced at Steed, seemed to consider for a moment, then threw discretion to the winds and kissed Gambit in full view of the senior agent, this time without a modicum of embarrassment. "I'll check on you at lunch," she pronounced.

"I'm looking forward to it," Gambit replied, following the well-worn script, but Steed had the sense that he was going to feel her absence more than he was letting on.

"Look after yourself," Steed advised with a nod, ushering Purdey out the door. When they were gone, Gambit sighed. Things were definitely less-than-ideal, but at least he and Purdey had an ally now, in more ways than one. He turned to the dishes in the sink, and started to think of ways to distract himself for the day.

vvv

Mike Gambit awoke the next morning to light streaming in his window from a crack in the curtains. He eased an eye open and swivelled it around, slowly coming to terms with his return to consciousness. He turned his head and looked blearily at the watch face on the inside of his wrist. It was later than he normally woke up on a work day, but that wasn't particularly problematic because he didn't have to go to work. He let his arm flop back onto the bed with little grace. Normally getting the chance to have a lie-in was a bonus, but somehow being forced off-duty indefinitely due to past connections with a murderous gun-for-hire cast rather a pall over a few extra hours of shuteye.

He stared at the ceiling and tried to put a positive spin on it. Purdey was always scolding him about negative thinking, after all. There had to be something good about being forced to take time off. There were always lots of other things he could be doing rather than getting shot at while saving the country from diabolical masterminds. Surely he could think of some way to use this unexpected extra time off to his advantage?

What did he usually do with time off? It had been awhile since he'd had any that he hadn't spent with Purdey, their sudden bid for romance having been accompanied by an equally-fervent desire to make up for lost time by enjoying each other's company in as full and meaningful a way as possible. He hadn't spent many days or nights alone that hadn't been more or less absorbed by the job since. But there had to be something he could be doing, if he reached his mind back far enough and recalled what life was like before Purdey had her romantic epiphany.

Spending a day, or an evening, with a pretty girl leapt immediately to mind as one way he had spent his time quite pleasantly in the past, but, of course, Purdey was the only woman in his life now, and she was, quite rightly, currently off fighting diabolical masterminds with Steed, rather than gracing his bed. It wasn't Purdey being off in the thick of the action that bothered him—he just rather enjoyed being there with her. But Purdey wasn't there, and wouldn't be there until she was finished for the day, when inevitably she would come by to ensure that he wasn't sinking into a deep depression or crawling the walls or turning into the sort of recluse his building definitely wouldn't hold with when it came time to renew his lease. Which was why it was his job to figure out some other way to while away the hours without brooding on how Vanessa Thyme was still finding ways to ruin his life, even after he'd escaped from his cell back in 1973.

Hobbies! He had hobbies that he'd been neglecting. There were others that he did with Purdey, and those were the ones that had been getting all the attention of late, namely dancing, playing board games, watching old movies, playing the odd game of tennis or squash, and engaging in esoteric and/or philosophical debates at every opportunity. But there were just as many, or more, that he couldn't do with Purdey. He had books he'd been meaning to read for months now, gathering dust on the shelf. There were a few DIY projects around the flat that he'd never gotten around to taking care of. There were a couple of crossbows he'd been looking for in the stores to add to his collection. And when was the last time he'd sat and sketched? He'd been looking at his drafting board for weeks now, thinking about how he hadn't picked up a pencil properly in ages, and now here was his chance!

It was a plan, at least. A way to distract himself from what he was strongly suspected he couldn't be distracted from. But at least he could try.

First things first. He sighed and propped himself up on his elbows, regarded the darkened room with practiced bleariness, then set about unwinding himself from his customary cocoon of covers. Finally free, he slid off the bed and onto the floor, settling cross-legged onto the carpet and closing his eyes, hands resting loose and open on his thighs. He breathed deep, letting peace and tranquility wash over him. He'd learned meditation through his karate training, and had come to value it just as much as the fighting skills. He needed that calmness now, that ability to shut down and retreat from the world, be at peace without demands or distractions, let his mind go somewhere else and unwind. These were things his personality demanded for his own sanity, and his job and his past had only made more necessary. He never timed how long he sat there, because that would defeat the purpose, but fifteen minutes went by and felt like hours. When he opened his eyes again, he felt more refreshed than he had when he'd woken up, and his worries had washed away, at least for the moment.

He got to his feet and quickly made the bed so he could retract it and clear the space, then commenced his morning workout, going through the motions of one of his favourite katas. The physicality of the routine cleared his head in a different way than the mediation, but it was just as satisfying, the sheer physicality of moving his body with expert precision never failing to bring him joy, even in stressful times. Sweat appeared on his skin, glistening in the light, and he let it trickle off of him, cleansing him, washing away the tremors of memory that tugged at his consciousness.

He finished and stood, shoulders heaving, in the middle of his flat, slowly returning to reality as if from a dream, his workout never failing to be consciousness altering. He considered showering, but he had no plans to go out. Not knowing who might be out there waiting for him, coupled with his own tendency to withdraw in times of stress, made the outside world seem decidedly unappealing. So, since Gambit knew that he was only going to wind up sweaty and dirty again anyway, he dug out a pair of jeans and a paintstained shirt and tugged them over his naked frame. He eschewed shaving as well, deciding to embrace the scruffy look in its entirety, and set about finding the paint to finish off that small corner of wall that he'd been meaning to get to for the past three months.

vvv

Purdey strode through the Ministry corridors, pointedly ignoring the curious looks people gave her as she passed. News of Gambit's enforced leave of absence had spread like wildfire, and since the man himself was, understandably, not available to be gawked at, his partner in crimefighting was serving as substitute. The day before she had worked with Steed at the stud farm, which had shielded them both from the madness of their place of work. But today Steed had made it clear that they had to make an appearance, that they couldn't hide out forever. Better to face the music and dance, even if Purdey had never felt less like dancing in her life. Purdey flashed some of the less-subtle observers a quick, carefree smile and resisted the urge to pick up the pace. If they thought she was running from them, the rumour mill would kick into overdrive even faster.

Thankfully, no one had actually tried to talk to her about the whole mess, and Purdey was counting her blessings for that small mercy when McBain fell into step beside her. "Purdey," he greeted officiously. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"That's odd," Purdey replied acridly, "since I've been working here since 1975."

"You know what I mean," McBain murmured surreptitiously, refusing to validate Purdey's sarcasm.

"McBain, I don't claim to be telepathic at the best of times, let alone today," Purdey said sharply. It wasn't that she hated McBain. He was a good agent and a good man, but his rigid adherence to the rules and protocol, at the expense of loyalty and doing what needed to be done in the moment, often put him at loggerheads with her and Steed and Gambit. The reappearance of Vanessa Thyme had undoubtedly put Gambit in his crosshairs as potentially guilty of violating some rule or other, and she wasn't in the mood to listen to any more conspiracy theories. There were enough of those already floating around the corridors.

McBain, to his credit, seemed to understand this, and changed his approach. "Please don't misunderstand my intentions, Purdey. I realise Gambit's suspension must put you in a difficult position."

"Why would it?" Purdey countered, never breaking her stride. "It's Gambit who's been suspended, not me, and he hasn't done anything wrong. He hasn't even been accused of anything. I don't like it, but I know he'll be back as soon as everyone stops being so idoitic. And until he comes back, I plan to keep doing my job."

McBain sighed in minor exasperation. "Yes, but you must know you're tainted by association, regardless of whether you or Gambit have done anything wrong. They don't suspend people for no reason, and just because you haven't been suspended as well doesn't mean they won't if you give them a reason."

"And do you think they will?" Purdey wanted to know, looking at him hard. "Suspend me? Because I am not going to turn my back on Gambit, whatever they threaten me with. I refuse."

McBain held up his hands defensively. "I meant no offence. Purdey, I know we haven't always seen eye to eye, especially after that business with Steed and the psychic. I think it's admirable that you're staying loyal to your partner, and I don't believe there's any evidence that Gambit has done anything wrong, either. At least, not at the moment. But that might change, and I wanted to warn you. You may find yourself faced with some very damning evidence, and some very tough decisions."

Purdey furrowed her brow. "What sort of evidence? They're not actually investigating Gambit for anything, are they?"

McBain looked at her meaningfully. "As I said, they don't suspend people for no reason. I advise you to tread carefully, that's all. Think of it as friendly advice."

"'Friendly' doesn't describe most of what's happened in the past twenty-four hours," Purdey observed tartly. "But thank you for the warning, McBain."

McBain bowed his head slightly, a formality befitting a man who adhered closely to every other code of conduct, both written and unwritten. "I do hope anything that comes to light is in Gambit's favour, for your sake as much as his." Then he broke away and headed down another corridor before Purdey could press him further. She watched his retreating back with more than a modicum of foreboding, leavened with an equal measure of annoyance, then picked up the pace. She was through trying to put on a brave face—she wanted away from prying ears and eyes.

She reached her ultimate destination—Steed's office—in a few minutes, and hurried inside without bothering to knock. The senior agent was on the telephone when she entered, and raised a staying hand to ensure her silence as he concluded his call. Purdey watched him carefully as she closed the office door quietly behind her. She'd known Steed long enough to detect the firm set of his mouth, a sure sign that whatever he was hearing on the other end of the line wasn't something he was particularly pleased about.

"Right. Thank you for letting me know, Tommy. Of course I'll tell him. And Purdey. Leave it with me."

Purdey's eyebrows shot up at the mention of their names. "Are we in trouble?" she asked Steed, settling gracefully into the chair across from his as he returned the receiver to its cradle.

"'We' aren't. Not at the moment, anyway. But the top brass have launched an investigation into Gambit and his connections to Vanessa Thyme. They think it might have something to do with why she's here."

Purdey sank back into the chair in exasperation. "So it's true," she said bitterly.

Steed arched a bemused eyebrow. "What is?"

"That Gambit's being investigated," Purdey fumed, launching herself onto her feet in disgust. "I just received a not-too-subtle hint from McBain that someone was looking into Gambit. But I hoped it was going to be a little farther down the road than this."

"I suspect he heard something this morning and this was his first opportunity to warn you," Steed surmised. "Did he say anything else?"

"Just that I might be next on their list," Purdey said, not bothering to hide her disgruntlement. "Guilt by association. Only Gambit hasn't done anything wrong. If anything, he's the victim. After all that woman did to him, they're treating him like he's some sort of reprobate." She gripped the back of her chair angrily, turned pleading eyes on Steed. "Steed, can't you do something? Put a good word in? There must be some strings you can pull."

"If there were, I would have pulled them," Steed pointed out, lacing his fingers on his desk. "Starting with Tommy, but he's proving remarkably stubborn, and I doubt I'll have better luck further up the chain. Until we have something concrete to fight against, we may have to sit tight and let nature take its course."

Purdey slumped resignedly back into her chair. "It isn't fair," she grumbled, crossing her arms. "After everything that Gambit's done for this department, they're treating him like a common criminal."

"That's the nature of the business."

"Not for everyone," Purdey countered. "If it were you, they'd show you a little more courtesy."

"I think you're rather forgetting the fact that I've been placed under investigation several times this past year," Steed pointed out with a small, ironic smile. "No one's above suspicion, Purdey. Not in this line of work. We must be very careful about erecting idols, and eternally willing to tear them down."

Purdey's expression turned thoughtful. "Hideous the work we do."

"Eh?"

"Something Gambit told me you said once." Purdey smiled tautly. "I suppose no one can say we weren't warned."

Steed smiled back, with a touch more cheer. "And speaking of warning, shall I pay a visit to Gambit and let him know the hideousness of the job has suddenly turned its ugly gaze on him?"

"No, I'll do it," Purdey said with a sigh. "After work. We'll let him have one day away from it, at least. He's already brooding about Vanessa Thyme being in town as it is. Do you have something for me?"

"Yes, as it happens." Steed picked up a file from his desk and handed it over. "Research. Should take you all day. I thought it would be best if we didn't stray too far afield for the moment. In case we're needed."

Purdey smiled conspiratorially. "Well, we are already guilty by association."

Steed nodded mock-seriously agreement. "And it would be a shame to disappoint them. I'll see you later, shall I?"

vvv

Purdey took the little-used back stairwell downstairs to the file room, in hopes of avoiding any more probing glances and whispered asides. As she hoped, no one was using that route, which had long ago been eclipsed by the newer, rejuvenated main staircase that had been added to the building during its last renovation. As she made her way to Files, Purdey was optimistic that she might be able to avoid people for the rest of the day, tucked up in a corner with only her dossiers for company. Sadly, her hopes were dashed the moment she set foot inside the inner records sanctum and saw Larry Carrington, one-time victim of the brain-draining machine, waiting at Sandy the file clerk's desk. Before she had a chance to turn around and leave, he caught sight of her and waved, and Purdey slunk resignedly over to join him. She'd enjoyed flirting with Larry in the past, particularly when she could use it to get a rise out of Gambit. But Gambit wasn't there, and Purdey knew that Larry's ongoing game of one-upmanship with her partner meant that he was going to want to discuss Gambit's recent fall from grace, the one thing she was hoping to avoid discussing with anyone after her encounter with McBain. She didn't feel much like flirting, either. Hopefully she could steer the conversation away from both.

"Purdey!" Larry greeted, clearly delighted that she was joining him. "What brings you down here?"

"I don't know about you," Purdey said dryly, "but I often find the urge to do some work during the day. You?"

Larry laughed at her sarcasm, but didn't appear particularly put off by it. "I'm following your example. Research. For an investigation I've been assigned."

"Here we are, Larry," Sandy, the man in charge of this particular records room, announced, carrying over a rather thick sheath of files. "Everything we have on the books. I'll, uh, need that form you promised me before I can sign them out."

"Of course." Larry retrieved a piece of paper from his inside-breast pocket, unfolded it and handed it to Sandy, who set his burden on the desktop to receive it. Acting out of idle curiousity, Purdey tilted her head and read the labels on the stack of files Sandy had just retrieved.

"That's Gambit's personal file!" she exclaimed, head whipping up in surprise.

"The very same," Larry confirmed, patting the pile of dossiers proprietarily. "Let's hope he's had as exciting a life as he's led us to believe. Otherwise I'm going to be falling asleep on the job."

"But you're not allowed to read other agents' personal files," Purdey protested, looking from Larry to Sandy and back again. "Not without special permission."

"Which I have," Larry cut in, with a nod at the piece of paper he'd given to Sandy. "Straight from McKay himself."

Purdey felt her heart stop as realisation dawned. "You're the one investigating Gambit?"

"Well, not only me. I have a couple of assistants. But yes, I've been put in charge of looking into Gambit's history with Thyme."

Purdey shook her head vehemently. "But that isn't fair. You've never liked him."

"That's the point. Unbiased perspective." Larry looked smug. "They know I won't be soft on him."

"So they chose someone who'd condemn him instead?" Purdey shot back, seething.

"Come on, Purdey. I'm willing to give him as much of a chance as he'd give me," Larry quipped, treating her to a sickly smile.

"That's the difference between you and him," Purdey corrected, jaw tightening almost painfully. "Gambit would give you the benefit of the doubt, no matter what he thought of you. He wouldn't put you down as a traitor, not out of spite. He has more integrity than that."

Larry's eyes narrowed. "Then I'm sorry you have such a low opinion of me," he snapped, grabbing the files off the desk and tucking them under his arm. "Because I'm going to do my job whether you like it or not, and I'm not going to let whatever idealised notion you have about your partner cloud my judgment." He stepped in close, locked his gaze with hers. "Mike Gambit is hiding something. From all of us. And I'm going to find out what it is."

"We're all hiding something," Purdey countered, meeting Larry's glare with one of her own. "Everyone in this business is. Even you, Larry."

"Maybe," Larry allowed. "But not all of our secrets are treasonous. And if I were a betting man, I'd say whatever Gambit is hiding leads straight back to Vanessa Thyme." He searched her face and a thought seemed to occur to him. "And if I wanted to up the ante, I'd say you already knew what it is, in which case, let me give you some advice. Come clean before he drags you down with him. Because whatever it is, I promise you, I'll find it. Then you'll want me to be biased, for your sake, but it'll be too late for me to go easy on you then." He turned and started to walk away. "Think about it, Purdey," he called back, leaving her standing there, fuming and alone. "Before it's too late."