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.

Purdey heard a soft creak and spun on her heel, just in time to see Gambit emerge from a crawlspace belowdeck. He grinned and said, "Good thing I checked. You were clumping around so much I thought you'd brought the army with you."

"Mike!" Purdey flung her arms around his neck in joyous relief, hugging tight and vowing to never let go. She felt Gambit's arms curl around her, holding her close and lifting her a little off the ground, and resisted the urge to cry. Gambit would never let her forget it otherwise. For a moment she felt like she was floating on air, in every sense of the word. She didn't even bother to hide her smile when she pulled back and met his eyes.

After a moment, he set her down again, and Purdey had her first opportunity to look at him properly. He clearly hadn't had much in the way of opportunities for grooming during his time on the run, if his current state was anything to go by. Purdey noted the uncombed hair, which had been allowed to revert to its natural curliness, as opposed to his usual slight side part that brushed the curl out. Along with the untamed hair, there was a rather nice crop of stubble darkening his chin. And his clothes were clearly spending their days stuffed in a bag, rather than being allowed to drape elegantly on a chair or hang in a closet where the wrinkles had half a chance to relax their way out. That made them decidedly more rumpled than befitted a man with a penchant for knife-edged creases in his trousers. Both articles looked a little gray as well, as though they'd picked up a layer of dirt somewhere along the way and hadn't been cleaned since. The leather jacket, at least, had already been broken in before the current adventure, and could take the wear and abuse with dignity, though Purdey rather suspected the ageing process had been accelerated. That was more than could be said for his boots, which were scuffed and creased with dirt. Purdey wondered absently where Gambit had been the past few days to earn that level of wear, but she supposed they'd come to that in time.

She turned her attention to the man himself, cocking her head as she searched his face. Gambit looked pale and badly slept, dark circles under his eyes emphasised by the general lack of colour in his cheeks. The crease between his eyebrows was particularly deep, indicating a prolonged period of worry, and there were lines around his mouth that she was fairly certain hadn't been there when he left. His eyes bore the distinctive restlessness that came from never being able to relax, paranoia and a well-honed sixth sense resulting in constant vigilance, never resting, even for a moment, because his survival depended on it. In spite of that hunted expression, Purdey was rather pleased to note that there was a spark of light in Gambit's eyes that seemed to be directly related to looking at her. Seeing Purdey was cheering Gambit up no end, if she did say so herself, and his obvious joy at seeing her, coupled with her own happiness at seeing him, left her with an irresistible urge to kiss him. So she did.

Gambit kissed back like a man at a feast after a famine, but then broke away sheepishly. "Sorry," he told her inquiring expression. "The stubble's set in and I haven't had a chance to brush my teeth."

"They're not the most romantic words after a long absence," Purdey noted, and Gambit ducked his head a little in embarrassment before she added, "but we've both had a long night." Gambit snorted in agreement, and Purdey reached up to tenderly caress his scratchy cheek with her thumb. "And I rather like the stubble," she said fondly. "Somehow it's more you and less Terry Walton."

"That's a relief—on several fronts," Gambit said with a sigh, really looking at her again, surveying every curve and contour of her face as though he hadn't seen her in years. "You're a sight for sore eyes," he breathed, gaze still lingering on her features, even as they released each other. "I'm glad you could make it."

"I'm rather offended that you even considered the possibility I wouldn't," Purdey huffed good-naturedly.

"You know what I mean," Gambit replied, still looking at her as though she was the best thing he'd seen in a long time. He seemed almost dazzled by her presence.

"Sometimes. In spite of myself," she said with a smile that told him there was no malice in either her comments or her demeanour.

"I wasn't sure I'd make it, either," Gambit admitted. "I still feel like I'm being watched wherever I go. I keep jumping at shadows and imagining sinister figures peering round corners." He scrubbed his face as though trying to clear away the paranoia. "I don't know if I'm going mad or just letting my imagination run away with me."

"If you are, it's catching," Purdey said ruefully. "You should see the route I took to get here."

"I may beat you in that competition," Gambit said wryly.

Purdey bristled. "Is it a competition?"

"Isn't it?"

Purdey paused, and he could see the lightning quick thought processes shimmer behind her eyes. "It doesn't matter," she decided finally. "But you had better explain yourself, Mike Gambit, for giving me the run-around all evening. I thought something terrible must have happened to you en route."

Gambit smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry about that," he apologised. "I knew you'd look out for tails, but there was always a chance that someone might have stuck with you. So I misdirected you a little, to see if they'd tip their hand when you went onboard the other ship. But since the whole Ministry didn't close in on you, I thought it was safe to bring you here."

Purdey glanced around the cabin with interest. "How did you find this boat?" she wanted to know, seeing it as a place in its own right rather than a potential ambush location. "Did you look at a brochure before you broke in or were you windowshopping?"

Gambit chuckled disapprovingly. "Break in? Purdey, what do you think of me?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

Gambit gave her a look but didn't pursue it. "It belongs to a friend of a friend. He doesn't know I'm borrowing it, but he won't mind. Especially if he knew I was using it to meet you. And if he does mind, I'll buy him a pint." He winked cheekily. "All that matters is he doesn't know I'm here, and I knew he wouldn't be here tonight."

Purdey pursed her lips but there was a wicked look in her eyes. "How charming."

"That's what he'd say." Gambit's eyebrows waggled wickedly.

Purdey tsked disapprovingly. "I look forward to meeting your friends one of these days. I'm sure it'll be quite the education."

"On both sides," Gambit quipped before going back to business. "I don't think anyone will work out the connection and come looking for us here, so we should be safe. And no one jumped you at the other boat, which is encouraging."

"Ah, yes, the marshmallow trail," Purdey remembered with a smile.

Gambit seemed pleased with his work. "Not bad, eh?"

"Creative," Purdey agreed. "Although rather a waste of good marshmallows."

"It'll be all right. They're not an endangered species," Gambit pointed out.

"Not yet," Purdey said mysteriously.

Gambit gave her a look that suggested he was both bemused and strangely accepting of the idea that she possessed top secret information about the inner workings of the marshmallow industry, but was unable to put it to words.

Purdey looked at Gambit again, at his unshaven chin, mussed hair, and world-weary, sleep-deprived eyes. "You look like you need a hotel room with a shower and a soft bed," she sympathised, stroking his forehead with a gentle touch. "Where have you been hiding all this time? Do you have a safe place to sleep?"

"I make do," Gambit replied wearily. "Not the first time I've had to sleep rough. I'm surviving, and that's all I can ask for right now."

Purdey cursed herself silently. "I wasn't thinking. I should have brought you some food or something."

Gambit shook his head. "No, no, nothing that's going to draw more attention than you already have. I'm all right. Really."

Purdey eyed him sceptically. "I'm not sure even you believe that."

"Then believe it for the both of us."

"All right," Purdey conceded, in a tone of voice that told Gambit that she wasn't entirely happy with the temporary conclusion to that state of affairs, but could live with it for the time being. Gambit wasn't entirely happy with it, either, which he supposed meant that it was a proper compromise. And a temporary one at that. Purdey wasn't going to let the matter lie without a fight forever, and if it came to the crunch, it was going to be very, very hard—harder than usual—to stop her from having her way and doing something to try to help him that would divulge his location to their employers. And that would unquestionably make things...messy, for everyone involved.

Purdey continued, "If you don't want to tell anyone, I hope you have something else up your sleeve to help your cause." She had her arms crossed and that unimpressed expression that he'd seen more times than he could count, always accompanied by an expectation that he explain himself, and that the explanation be extraordinarily good. A withering comment would inevitably follow if he didn't deliver. Gambit barely kept the wry smile that was threatening to stretch his lips off his face, lest Purdey ask what was so funny. A few seconds ago, he'd been absolutely certain he could get Purdey onside with the idea that maintaining the status quo at his own expense was the best course of action, but now he knew Purdey would simply pivot around the issue like the dancer she was, and attack it from another angle. If he didn't deliver, she'd retrace her steps and they'd be back where they'd started in no time at all. The problem was, Gambit didn't have many new steps to share. At least, not ones he wanted to resort to, if he could help it. Best keep those under wraps until I need them. If I need them.

"I wish I could tell you I've found all the answers," he said resignedly, knowing that trying to talk a good talk wouldn't wash with Purdey, and would only serve to annoy her further.

Fortunately for him, Purdey's concern overrode her annoyance, and her hands dropped to her sides. "I thought you were going to try to find Vanessa?"

"What do you think I've been doing?" Gambit said grimly. "I've been pulling in every resource, every piece of information I have about her and how she works, every play I can think of. I know I'm not completely off the mark because I find traces of her, signs that she's been there. But I never seem to catch her—I just miss her, over and over." Gambit pounded his fist uselessly against his thigh. "She knows I'm after her. I'm sure of it. She's baiting me. Letting me get close and then slipping away." He pressed his fingers to his temples and squeezed his eyes shut, as though warding off a headache. To Purdey, it looked more like a potential stroke in the making, and she reached for him worriedly. Her hand on his seemed to bring him back to himself, and his eyes opened again. "It's a tactic," he told her. "She's trying to drive me mad, with helplessness or frustration or who knows what. She's threatened me and you and Steed, and she won't let me do anything about it. She wants me to give up on ever being able to find her and hand over the papers because it's the only alternative."

"But you're not going to do that," Purdey said steadily, more of a statement than a question. "Right?"

Gambit nodded in agreement. "No. Not without a fight, anyway."

"Good," Purdey said, as though it was the final word on the matter, which as far as she was concerned, it was. She definitely wasn't going to tell Gambit about the side deal she'd made with Vanessa. That would only worry him more, and she didn't want him to give in to the woman on her account. "Keep trying to pin Vanessa down, and we'll keep working to clear you."

Gambit smiled wanly. "I wish I had more to report, something to show for all the legwork I've been doing."

"It's not only about you finding Vanessa," Purdey reminded. "If you hadn't run, you'd be in a cell."

"Maybe. Maybe that'd be for the best, make it easier on everyone."

"On who?" Purdey challenged, incredulous. "Not me. Not Steed. And anyway, no one knows Vanessa better than you. If we're ever going to catch her and clear your name, you're our best hope."

"In theory, anyway," Gambit sighed.

"Negative thinking, Gambit. If anyone needs to be able to move freely, it's you. We need you free. Your sulking won't do anyone any good at all."

"I'm not sulking."

Purdey cocked her head sceptically. "Then you're doing a very good impression. I didn't come all this way just to watch you be fatalistic. I could have made other plans."

"Then give me something positive to hold onto," Gambit challenged, with a certain amount of desperation. "What are you and Steed up to?"

"You mean when we're not being looked at suspiciously by Larry and his people?" Purdey said tiredly, hoping she didn't look as weary as she felt, and knowing that she did.

Gambit groaned. "I never thought I'd say this, but tell me about Larry."

Purdey sighed. "Let's just say we were both right to take precautions."

Gambit arched an alarmed eyebrow. "We were?"

Purdey matched his grim expression with one of her own. "I wish we weren't. Larry's on the warpath. He's convinced he finally has enough rope to hang you, and he means to use it."

Gambit groaned and turned to pace the room. "That bad?"

"Or worse." Purdey knew there was no point in mincing words at this point. Gambit was best served by knowing exactly what was going on. Holding anything back, no matter how unpleasant, would only make things worse. He needed to be up to date to face the travails head-on. Purdey only wished she could do it in surroundings and circumstances that were a little more relaxed. She pursed her lips and her hands went to her hips in annoyance. "He's getting worse by the day," she fumed. "It's worse than the day you ran. He's managed to convince the powers that be to give him more resources to continue his investigation, and to hunt you down. Do you know he has every available agent out looking for you? Even the ones on assignment have orders to bring you in if they catch sight of you, or if you come to them for help." She bit her lip. "They're even allowed to use force. I didn't believe it at first, but they are. Larry says it can't be lethal, but I'm not sure they wouldn't be able to justify it if they could convince everyone you were dangerous."

"I am dangerous." Gambit waggled his eyebrows at her in a manner that wouldn't have looked out of place in a Roger Moore Bond film.

"He doesn't mean dangerously corny," Purdey quipped, realising that Gambit was trying to lighten the mood despite the dire news she was delivering. "Mike, I'm serious. There's a very real possibility they could accuse you of trying kill other agents and act accordingly. That's how far it's gone."

Gambit set his jaw grimly, looked off into the distance as though calculating his chances. "I guess I should be flattered he thinks I can do that much damage."

"Well, it's not only you," Purdey pointed out, and Gambit regarded her inquisitively. "They're also still looking for Vanessa Thyme. Larry's convinced you're working together, and that's why you ran."

Gambit shook his head in disbelief. "Even though he's read my file, he still thinks I'd work with her? After everything she did to me? My psych eval even said I was still recovering from the whole thing. How do I fake that?"

Purdey shrugged. "He has theories. You're a good actor, she brainwashed you, you want to exact revenge against the government for leaving you to suffer. He doesn't care which one it is, as long as it paints you as the villain. He's selling the idea that you and Vanessa are working together to sell the papers and who knows what else, and you've been doing it for some time right under the nose of the Ministry."

"Based on what evidence?" Gambit demanded, outrage finally starting to set in.

"Other than O'Hara's so-called confession, he's keeping the findings in his report fairly close to his chest," Purdey admitted, expression a picture of frustration. "He doesn't trust me, especially since I tipped you off before the arrest." She regarded him with sympathetic annoyance. "You know that they turned your flat over looking for the papers and other evidence."

Gambit leaned against the wall, needing the support, jaw working angrily. "I expected as much."

"Don't worry," Purdey told him. "I stayed on and made sure they didn't do too much damage. I set it right again, too. They didn't find anything, but Larry just used that as proof that you took the papers with you when you ran, or have them hidden elsewhere."

Gambit turned away from picking distractedly at the wood panelling on the cabin wall and regarded her quizzically. "How do you know all this if Larry won't let you read the report?"

Purdey's secretive little smile made an appearance. "He won't let me read it. Steed, on the other hand, is another matter entirely."

Realisation dawned in Gambit's eyes. "I should have known."

"He is Steed," Purdey pointed out. "He has his sources. He gets bits and pieces of information from people and passes them on to me, and I pass them onto—" She broke off, eyes shining with what Gambit could tell was excitement at making some sort of monumental reveal.

"Come on, come on," Gambit urged, knowing it wouldn't make much difference where Purdey was concerned. She'd tell him when she decided she wanted to, not that it made the anticipation any more bearable. "Onto who?"

"Oh, didn't I mention?" Purdey said with practised casualness. "I met your cousin."

"Cousin?" Gambit frowned at her. "What are you talking about?"

"Sara," Purdey clarified, and was rather pleased by the way the name made Gambit's jaw drop open in surprise. "She came by your flat after it had been ransacked. She heard you were in trouble." She cocked her head quizzically. "Why didn't you tell me she was the one who sat with you after you got out of Africa?"

Gambit shifted uncomfortably. "Too many things to explain in one sitting. Had enough to get through in the story without going off on a tangent about my family tree. I wanted to save her for a moment that was a little more…upbeat."

Purdey considered this, then nodded in agreement. "I suppose. I would've been bursting with curiousity about her if you'd talked about her a little more at the time." She watched Gambit nod in turn, and then added, not a little mischievously, "And Sara also said that you'd want to keep us apart as long as possible so we couldn't gang up on you." Gambit blanched and his mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. "Don't bother to deny it. You're already answered my question," she said smugly. "You're outmatched as it is, Mike Gambit. You'd be beaten before you started if you were faced with both of us."

"I'm trying not to think about it," Gambit said tiredly, massaging his temples. "There was another reason, you know," he added, as Purdey smiled smugly at him while still trying to maintain an illusion of innocence by widening her eyes an inordinate amount. "I was worried you wouldn't like each other. Sara's gotten me through a lot of tough times. I don't know what I would have done without her, especially after I got back from Africa. I didn't have anyone else who had the wherewithal and understood what was going on enough to help." He smiled a little crookedly at her. "Nothing worse than your family and the woman you love not getting on. I was trying to avoid that possibility for as long as possible. Or at least until I had the wherewithal to cope with it."

"Oh," Purdey said after a moment, then lapsed into silence. "I hadn't thought of that."

"I did," Gambit replied flatly. "I thought you'd get on all right, but you never know." He regarded her a little uneasily. "You do like her, then?"

"I like her a lot," Purdey declared. "She sounds like she doesn't let you get away with anything."

Gambit chuckled in spite of himself. "That sounds like Sara. And she was okay with you?"

"More than okay," Purdey practically bristled. "From the sounds of things, she's been waiting to meet me for some time. She seemed to know we were dating and was inordinately pleased about it. I assume you've been talking about me to her behind my back for ages. She seemed to know exactly what I was like. It was uncanny."

Gambit reddened slightly. "I, uh, might have talked about you a few times with her over the years. But Sara drew her own conclusions half the time without me saying anything. She knows me too well, and that extends to the type of girl I'm attracted to." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Anyway, how is she helping you?"

Purdey's secretive smile was back. "You're not going to get away that easily, Mike Gambit. We're coming back to this conversation when all of this is over." Satisfied that Gambit looked quite uncomfortable with that idea, she continued, "But yes, she has been helping, thankfully. You see, a large part of Larry's case against you concerns times when you were unaccounted for that coincided with nefarious dealings by Thyme, or at least those attributed to her. That and some rather conveniently opened bank accounts, and plane and train tickets and things that made it look as though you were planning to make your escape."

Gambit groaned. "Any luck so far?"

"Some," Purdey conceded. "We're letting Sara look into a lot of it. She can run searches without attracting attention, which is more than Steed or I can do at the Ministry. I've given up going to the file room. I feel eyes on me at every turn." She shuddered dramatically. "It's taking her longer than she'd like. She has to squeeze it in around her own work, and if she pushes too hard she'll attract attention." She crossed her arms impatiently. "I wish there was more I could do than keep my ears open and look over my shoulder. It's starting to feel like I'm under investigation, too. Which I suppose I am, really."

Gambit winced. "I know. I'm sorry I got you and Steed caught up in this. Guilt by association." He ran an exasperated hand through his hair. "Wish I could fix it."

"So you could struggle through this on your own?" Purdey said incredulously. "Don't you dare even think that, Mike Gambit. The worst thing you could do is make me stand by without being able to help, and I know Steed feels the same way." The sharp angle of her defiantly pointed chin wavered somewhat. "And anyway, I haven't been completely at a loss for things to do. I've been looking at the supposedly suspicious gaps in time where you were unaccounted for." She cocked her head in slight suspicion. "I won't say that Larry's right, but some of the times where you were supposedly AWOL do look a bit odd."

Gambit scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Yeah, about that—"

"So I've been doing some legwork," Purdey cut in briskly, pulling the piece of paper from her jeans pocket.

"I always like to see your legs work," Gambit quipped, earning a snort of derision for his trouble.

"Concentrate, Gambit."

"I am concentrating."

"Yes, but not on this." She unfolded the page and showed it to him. "These are the dates Larry is using to incriminate you. As you can see, several of them have already been accounted for."

Gambit's head snapped up in surprise. "How?"

"As I said, I did some legwork," Purdey said coyly, happy to have the upper hand for once after feeling like she was on the back foot for so much of the whole fiasco. "Some of it wasn't too difficult. Steed made a start. He's willing to speak about these under-the-radar jobs that you've been apparently running for him."

Gambit caught the accusatory note in her voice and met her eyes. "Purdey, he swore me to secrecy."

"That's what Steed said," Purdey said tartly. "And these—" She pointed to the pertinent dates. "—were when you were with me. I have proof that you and I were—"

"Undercover?" Gambit quipped, in spite of himself, eliciting a groan from Purdey before he turned serious once more. "But we can't use that evidence. Even Larry won't believe we were just playing Scrabble. Not that often. Or enjoyably."

"But we have to!" Purdey protested.

Gambit shook his head stubbornly. "I don't want you to have to give up your secrets for me."

"My secret's not going to do me a damned bit of good if you're locked away because I kept quiet!" Purdey countered. "Has it ever occurred to you that you might matter more to some people than their secrets? Take Sara, for example. She's given me some leads on things you helped her with, and she's going to go on the record about them if need be as well."

Gambit sighed. "Well, always good to know that your family is willing to go to the wall for you."

"So is Emma," Purdey continued, waiting for his reaction. She wasn't disappointed. Gambit's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"You went to see Emma?" His tone conveyed his disbelief. "I thought you didn't like her."

"Well, we had a very nice chat, and I've decided she's not so bad after all," Purdey said airily. "And she's also willing to pull your fat out of the fire, so be grateful."

"I am," Gambit murmured. "I'm just amazed everyone's been willing to come forward."

Purdey snorted. "That's not surprising, since you seem to be willing to put your career on the line for people without a second thought, but never seem to want to let anyone return the favour. It's quite selfish in its own way."

"Selfish? Helping other people?"

"Yes. Playing hero, without a thought for yourself."

"I think most people would call that 'selfless,'" Gambit pointed out mildly.

Purdey's mouth twitched irritably. "Never mind the dictionary definitions. The point is, you've been sticking your neck out unnecessarily."

"I don't do these things for just anybody," Gambit reminded. "They're for people I care about, who need my help."

"That's a relief. And here I thought you'd put an ad in the paper," Purdey said acridly. "'Spy for hire. Does own driving'."

"Well, I have to earn the money to keep you fed somehow—ow!" Gambit rubbed the spot where Purdey's elbow had dug into his ribs. "Seriously, Purdey. I appreciate you going to all this trouble, but I can't ask you and everyone else on that list to spill their secrets for me. I didn't do what I did because I was hoping for some sort of payback."

"Which is exactly why you're getting it," Purdey cut in forcefully. "You'd never ask, but you're not asking. They're offering. Because they care about you. As much as I care about you." She shook her head in exasperation. "When will you get it through your thick skull that you have some people's loyalty? You don't have to keep trying to earn it."

"Of course I do," Gambit countered gruffly. "The second you start taking people for granted, that's the second you start losing them." He laid a hand aside her cheek. "And I don't want to lose anyone. Least of all you. And definitely not because of something I've done."

"Yes, but loyalty goes two ways," Purdey protested in frustration. "And I don't want to take you for granted any more than you do me. I think I've done enough of that." Her mouth twisted angrily. "So do shut it and tell me where you were on the rest of these dates, so I can clear your name."

Gambit sighed and took the list with a small smile. "Well, since you asked so nicely…" He scanned the dates, Purdey watching him intently. The corners of his mouth pulled down suddenly, unconsciously.

"What is it?" Purdey wanted to know, craning her neck so she could see which date he was looking at.

"These ones," Gambit murmured grimly, tapping his index finger on the page. "I don't think telling Larry what I was doing then will help me much."

Purdey frowned. "It can't be worse than whatever Larry's imagining," she stressed. "Where were you? Tell me."

Gambit squeezed his eyes shut, and suddenly looked much younger. "I was helping Spence."

Purdey felt her heart sink. "Spence?" she repeated faintly. "You mean sleeper agent Spence? The man who…taught you everything you know about karate?"

"Not everything," Gambit corrected, pinching the bridge of his nose as though staving off a headache. "Not that it'll matter much in the end. I'm sure Larry's already been over all of that with a fine-tooth comb, but this'll just add some spice to the pot." He tossed the piece of paper onto the bed disconsolately and started to pace, sailor's rocking gait adjusting automatically to the deck bobbing beneath their feet. "Oh hell, Purdey. I'm damned no matter what I do. What's the use?"

"Don't you dare give up on me, Mike Gambit!" Purdey said sharply. "We all knew Spence. He trained us. We trusted him. Larry can't claim that everyone he was in contact with was somehow complicit in his cover. If that's the case, the entire Ministry should be under suspicion."

"Yeah, but I was the only one who had history with him," Gambit reminded. "I was a teenager when I met him. He was my introduction to the martial arts. He taught me—well, not everything I know, not anymore. But a lot. About life. About being a good man." He dropped his hands uselessly to his sides. "Because he was a good man in a lot of ways, even if—even though…" He bit his lip, and Purdey could tell he was on the verge of tears. Gambit had never really talked about the fallout of the whole Spence affair, and Purdey had felt their romance was still a touch too young for her to press for more details. But she could see the teenage Gambit surfacing behind his eyes, the one that had never been quite allowed to mourn his mentor properly, the one Gambit had papered over with professionalism and jokes. Purdey went to him before his reserve broke, wrapped her arms tightly around him just before the tears spilt.

"He was my friend," Gambit managed after a couple of uneven breaths, wrapping his arms tightly around her, clinging to her like a life preserver in deep emotional waters. "Sometimes the only one I thought I had. He did a lot to help me, keep me on the straight and narrow, ironically." He rested his chin on her shoulder. "He was the big brother I never had, I guess. I thought our history counted for something. And he'd never really asked for anything in return, so when he came to me and asked if I could drive a package down to a friend of his, I didn't think twice. He said he couldn't take the time off to do it himself, and didn't trust the post to get it there in time. All the way up to Scotland, and I had to stay overnight." He wiped away a tear as Purdey stroked his back soothingly. "Wasn't the first time, either. The rest of those missing dates, I was doing something similar, although not as far afield. He had friends, he said, who had fallen on hard times and he was trying to help, but sometimes he had a class or something and couldn't go to see them himself. So I'd go in his place and give them things. They did look rough, and the bags he gave me to pass on always had tins of food and things in them. It seemed innocent enough. Looking back, it was as dodgy as hell. He could have been passing anything on. Probably whenever one of his fellow sleepers needed something, and he didn't want to implicate himself if it all went wrong, he sent me. And he knew that, with my background, I'd be sympathetic. I'd want to help people down on their luck. He played me." He turned his anger back on himself. "I should have been suspicious. I should have asked more questions, or reported it, or something."

"But he was Spence," Purdey reminded softly, pressing a hand comfortingly to his chest. "Good old Spence. We all would've done anything for him."

"Still, the fact that I did it looks bad. I'm not sure what looks worse—if I was clueless about what happened or if I was complicit."

"Ignorant," Purdey said forcefully. "And anyway, you killed him. They can't deny that."

"Yeah, well, I never would have believed he could do that, turn on me so easily, sleeper or not. We'd known each other for so long. I mean, David Miller was a sleeper, but he tried to warn Steed. He couldn't kill him. But Spence—I guess I didn't matter." His face crumpled, and Purdey put both her hands on either side of his face.

"He did his job," she said firmly. "You might not have believed he could bring himself to kill you, but I'll bet he didn't believe you could kill him, either. And you did. It doesn't mean you didn't care about him, or that it was easy. I'm sure it wasn't easy for him, either. I don't think he'd forgotten everything you'd gone through together."

"Maybe not," Gambit murmured. "It did my head in either way. I wasn't thinking straight for days after. Looked at everyone sideways, wondering whether they were working for the other side."

"Well, I can assure you that I have no intention of going over," Purdey vowed cheerfully. "If you can resist your penchant for negative thinking enough to believe me."

"That's a relief," Gambit said softly. They exchanged a long, affectionate look in silence for a moment, before Purdey sighed and smoothed the front of his jacket as though preparing to send him off to work in the morning like a ridiculously stereotypical 1950s housewife.

"Any more dates on that paper that you want to ask me about?" Gambit queried eventually, with a voice that still shook

Purdey broke away from him momentarily, to retrieve the piece of paper lying on the bed. She scanned it. "Um, not really. We've accounted for most of them."

Gambit nodded tiredly, and with a certain amount of relief. "Okay. That's that, then." He could see the concern on Purdey's face when she noticed his weariness, and tried to smile encouragingly. "How did you get here without being seen?" he asked, by way of changing the subject.

Purdey looked unimpressed. "From my mother's. Don't you remember what you wrote in your message?"

Gambit sucked his teeth in mild exasperation. "I know that. I sent you to your mother's because I figured they wouldn't go so far as to start poking into her mail, too. But someone must have followed you there, so how did you get here?"

Purdey smiled enigmatically. "The way I always got away when I didn't want anyone to know. I waited until it was dark and made my move."

"That's it?"

"Of course that's not it. In case you haven't noticed, my mother doesn't live beside the docks."

Gambit made a moue. "Might be easier if she did."

Purdey ignored the comment. "I hid in my stepfather's church's crypt until the evening. And before you ask, no, I didn't stumble upon any ghosts."

"That you knew of."

Purdey blew him a raspberry. "Then I crossed the fields on foot and arranged to pick up a bike a suitable distance away," she went on, satisfied at Gambit's impressed expression. "Then I rode back into town, parked somewhere rather unobtrusively, and walked the rest of the way."

"And that's how you'll get back?"

"No," Purdey contradicted, with more than a modicum of delight. "I didn't fancy riding back at sunrise. I thought that'd be too obvious. So I'm going to pay an early morning visit to my dear Uncle Elly, and he's going to drive me back. With me lying on the floor of the car, of course, so I'm not seen. He's promised to put some very soft blankets down for me. I might have a nap. It's not as though I'll be getting any sleep tonight."

Gambit ducked his head. "Sorry. I know how hard this has been on you."

"Oh, stop being a martyr and come here." Without warning, Purdey pulled him close and kissed him hard.

"Shouldn't you be getting back?" Gambit murmured against her mouth. "They'll notice you're gone eventually. Larry or someone will start asking after you, no matter what your mother says."

"Eventually," Purdey agreed, her assault on his mouth unrelenting. "But Uncle Elly isn't expecting me for a little while yet, and it only takes so long to drive back there. I can safely say that you and I have an hour and a half to enjoy ourselves." She released his mouth long enough to whisper in his ear, "Unless you have any objections?"

Gambit moved his head so he could meet her eyes. "You know it's dangerous for you to be here with me at all?"

Purdey looked unimpressed. "I didn't think we were only roleplaying spy and fugitive, if that's what you're asking."

Gambit pursed his lips. "Purdey, you know what I mean. This is my mess, my past catching up with us. You took a huge risk coming down here. You don't have to make it worse for yourself by staying on."

"I don't have to," Purdey agreed, leaning in so her lips just brushed his. "But I want to."

Gambit's reserve was breaking. His eyes took on a pleading expression. "Purdey, please," he almost begged. "Don't let me drag you down. I don't want to ruin your life. I love you too much for that."

Purdey's expression turned fierce. "The only thing you could possibly do to ruin my life, Mike Gambit," she hissed, "is to let yourself be caught and found guilty of something you didn't do, and to make me stand by when I could have done something to stop it." She caressed his cheek and softened. "I love you too much for that."

Gambit's mouth quirked up on one end at that. "I always thought I was stubborn, until I met you."

"You are stubborn," Purdey asserted. "Just not stubborn enough to dissuade me, that's all. Now…" She pulled his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms, tossing it carelessly onto a chair. "I only have an hour and twenty-five minutes now. Are there any other methods you'd like to try to dissuade me before I break down the rest of your defences?"

Gambit appeared to ponder this for a moment. "I haven't shaved," he offered.

Purdey grinned. "That's never been a problem before," she reminded. "In fact, sometimes it's rather a bonus." Gambit chuckled in spite of himself, the ghosts temporarily banished. She nodded at him. "Take that off."

Gambit spread his arms wide. "Which part?"

"Everything," Purdey declared, starting to pull his shirt from his trousers.

"Uh-uh," Gambit objected, even as Purdey's lips met his. "Your turn. You already took off my jacket. It's only fair."

Purdey pulled a face. "All right," she conceded, straightening her arms so Gambit could slide the leather motorcycle jacket over her shoulders, before leaning in to kiss him again. "There, now we're even."

"Are we keeping score?" Gambit wanted to know, hands dropping to her hips.

"You're the one who started talking about turns," Purdey reminded, trailing her hands into his hair. Gambit was right—he hadn't shaved, and his lips were somewhat rough against hers. But that was only a problem if she minded. Which she definitely didn't.

"I said turns, not scores," Gambit clarified, walking her over to the cabin's small bed, gently settling her onto it and following her, kissing her leisurely. Then he was gone, bending to pull off his boots and socks, then doing the same for her. When he straightened up, it was her turn. She started unbuttoning his shirt from the bottom up, kissed the newly-revealed flesh on his stomach, felt the rumble of his groan beneath her lips. She quickly realised he was too tall for her to stay sitting, so she got up on her knees on the bed, following the trail of buttons and kissing her way up his chest as she went. Gambit's arms encircled her, and she could feel him fumbling with his cuffs, saving her the trouble. As always. She licked the sweat gathered in the hollow of his throat and he moaned and arched against her. Purdey grinned at his reaction. "Did you miss me?" she teased, sliding off his shirt.

"I always miss you," Gambit murmured, as the garment fell to the floor, but his face was serious. He laid his hand against her cheek. "So much. But if you change your mind about leaving-"

"Oh, hush," Purdey cut in, forcefully unbuckling his belt. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be. Or if I thought you weren't worth the risk."

"Purdey— "

"No." She cast the belt aside, cupped his face in her hands. "I know you're a noble, self-sacrificing idiot, Mike Gambit, but it took us this long to get this far, and I'm not going to give up on you. Now or ever. I love you and that's my final word on the matter."

Gambit, for his part, looked like he wanted to cry, from guilt, relief, stress, she didn't know, but all it did was make her want to kiss him, so she did. He kissed back, hard, pulling her close, and they mutually agreed, via telepathy, to pretend that she didn't taste his tears, even when she let her lips drift over his jaw.

She distracted herself by dropping her hands to his waist and unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers, easing them down and tracing her fingers over his hip bone. It was strange to think she knew his body so much better now, even after all the time they'd worked together, all the times she'd seen him partly undressed for one reason or another in the course of their work. She would have thought there'd be few secrets left to uncover, but now she knew that there were some things she could only learn about by being 'hands on' so to speak. She splayed her fingers over the space between his torso and pelvis, feeling the contours of those slim hips that had mentally made her bite her lip in longing a million years ago. "I missed you, too," she whispered in his ear, and for the first time since they'd reunited, he laughed gently.

"That's a good sign," he quipped, kissing her hair, and that nearly set her crying, so she set about divesting him of his trousers properly.

It wasn't long before she found herself beneath him, squirming out of her own jeans, her bra somewhere off to the side, Gambit's body over hers, fitting together as if they'd been made for each other. This was the way they were meant to be, the way they always should have been, Purdey knew. In a different universe, she wouldn't have wasted so much time pushing him away, there would have been no wounds to keep them apart. There was nothing to do about it now, of course, that lost time, those 'what ifs'. But she could make sure there was no more wasted time, were no more enforced partings. So Purdey opened herself to Gambit, laced her fingers with his, and met his lips. Every kiss, every touch, every gasped word, every time her body arched up to press against his, was an act of defiance, a vow to the Ministry men that she was not going to betray the man she loved no matter what they threatened her with. She was going to fight for him, the way he would, had, fought for her, and always would.