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.

John Steed sat impassively in his Jaguar XJ12, and resisted the urge to check his watch. When setting their rendezvous point, Gambit had estimated it would take about two hours to make contact, including the time required to shake off potential tails from both sides. The clock was edging perilously close to that deadline, and Steed was leaning heavily on his own experience in the field to reassure himself that a delay did not automatically equal something going catastrophically wrong. There was any number of reasons why Gambit could have been held up, from a persistent tail to difficulty in locating Thyme. Steed wouldn't let himself panic—he was too seasoned for that—but a niggling sense of unease had settled into his consciousness in spite of himself. He hadn't yet decided how long he'd wait before he officially declared himself worried, nor what he'd do when he did. What he did know was that letting Purdey or Gambit down wasn't an option. He'd find Gambit one way or another, even if it meant Larry slapping the cuffs on Steed himself next.

As it turned out, Steed didn't need to answer any of those lingering questions. Gambit appeared across the street, seemingly from nowhere, just a few minutes past his self-imposed deadline. He looked left and right before quickly jaywalking to where the car was parked. Steed had left the passenger door unlocked, and Gambit slid inside smoothly, closing the door behind him. "All right?" Steed queried automatically.

Gambit was looking over his shoulder, but nodded. "Okay."

Steed turned the key in the ignition and set the engine purring. He pulled smoothly away from the curb and started on the circuitous route he'd planned in advance while waiting for Gambit to appear, just in case the younger man hadn't quite managed to shake any potential pursuers. "I assume it's set?" he asked after a moment, when Gambit seemed sufficiently settled.

Gambit nodded. "Five o'clock tomorrow afternoon. Old warehouse on the Battersea side of the Thames."

"Isn't it always?" Steed quipped, flashing Gambit a quick smile. "You're to come alone, I assume?"

Gambit grinned faintly at the joke made at the expense of the clichés of their profession. "Of course. Although I'm not sure either of us believe it'll happen. She'll settle for everyone waiting outside."

"We'll see to it that Larry keeps his distance," Steed assured. "He won't like it, but he's a professional. He'll know better than to jeopardise his own operation by spooking the quarry."

"I hope so," Gambit murmured, gaze drifting out the window. He was silent for a moment, then he asked, "Do you think I'm doing the right thing, Steed?"

"I'm inclined to say yes, but you'll have to be more specific."

Gambit sighed. "All of this, getting you and Purdey and everyone mixed up in this thing, just because I didn't hand over those papers in 1973. It would've been easier if I'd just been a good soldier and followed orders."

"Sometimes a good soldier is the one who doesn't follow orders because he's had a better look at the battlefield than the people giving them," Steed pointed out. "I can't claim to know exactly what's in those papers, Gambit, but I'd like to think I know you. I don't believe you'd do everything you've done thus far, and risk as much as you have, if there wasn't a good reason."

Gambit snorted. "Not even sure if I have a reason at this point. Just an old instinct. A gut feeling."

"The best reason of all," Steed contradicted. "I've had my share of 'papers' and the like over the years. It's never a pleasant situation to find oneself in, but I can't say that I regret acting as I did." He arched an inquiring eyebrow at Gambit. "If you're honest with yourself, do you think the world would be better off if you'd chosen a different path?"

Gambit let out a long breath. "No," he admitted. "I wish it didn't mean bringing other people into it, that's all. Especially you and Purdey."

"I wouldn't worry about that if I were you. I knew what I was taking on, and I suspect Purdey did as well."

Gambit nodded knowingly. "When you signed up for this line of work."

"When we became your friends," Steed corrected gently, making Gambit smile a little crookedly in gratitude.

"I guess so," he said quietly.

"And from the sounds of things, Purdey's only reaffirmed that allegiance." Steed levelled a sceptical gaze at the younger man. "Did you think she'd risk entangling herself more deeply with you without having her eyes wide open?"

Gambit shook his head. "No. But she's been through a lot. It doesn't feel right to pile my own baggage on top of it."

"I'm sure she felt the same way. With Doomer, that business in Brazil. You're very good at taking on other people's burdens, Gambit. Did it ever occur to you that someone might want to return the favour?"

"There hasn't been much in the way of precedents in my life on that front," Gambit admitted. "I'm trying to get used to it."

"I suggest you try harder. Purdey's patience will only stretch so far." Steed adjusted the rear-view mirror, but there was no one following them. He was sure of it.

Gambit laughed in spite of himself. "Good point."

"At the risk of overburdening you with my hard-earned wisdom," Steed continued, relaxing into his seat now that the danger had temporarily passed. "I should add that friendship comes with rather a lot of trust. If you thought those papers shouldn't see the light of day, I'm inclined to think the same."

Gambit looked genuinely grateful, albeit a touch nervous and uncertain. "Thanks, Steed. I hope we're both right, for all our sakes."

vvv

Steed drove Gambit to a safe house that Gambit recognised as having been on the books for some time, but never really utilised. It was the perfect choice for someone like Larry, who was paranoid enough to think that even the Ministry itself wouldn't be able to withstand an ambush by Gambit's imaginary army of co-conspirators. Gambit only wished his resources stretched as far as the man seemed to believe, but quickly chastised himself for the thought. He had Purdey and he had Steed, which made him a damn sight luckier than he'd ever been in his life. It would be greedy to ask for more.

Steed studiously avoided the front entrance of the nondescript house, and led Gambit around to the side of the building, where a door painted the same colour as the walls blended almost invisibly into the structure. Steed rapped it purposefully with the handle of his umbrella, and Gambit recognised a coded knock. Gambit's skin suddenly prickled as he sensed eyes on him before the door eased open, and they ducked inside.

The house wasn't much better maintained inside than out, its lack of recent use causing it to go to seed. There was no furniture on the main floor, and the walls desperately needed a lick of paint. They followed the man who had let them in—whom Gambit didn't recognise- up a flight of stairs that Gambit hoped were less rickety than they looked, and into a corridor with a handful of doors leading into various rooms. The one at the end of the hall turned out to be their destination.

Inside, Purdey was seated on a wobbly old wooden chair as though it was a plush armchair at the Ritz, legs crossed decoratively as she played cards with a bored looking member of security, while Larry stared unwaveringly over her shoulder. Gambit, taking in the scene, couldn't resist the quip that rose to his lips. "I hope you're not helping your friend cheat at cards, Larry. Purdey'll never let you forget it."

Purdey's head snapped up at his voice, and she dropped her hand immediately and rose to her feet, rushing forward to greet him. Immediately the security man leapt up and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her back, earning a poisonous glare from Purdey and a cry of outrage from Gambit.

"She only wants to make sure he's all right, Larry," Steed said calmly. "You have people watching the house, and she's not a prisoner." He paused, then added, pointedly. "Or rather, I hope she isn't."

Larry's mouth pressed into a thin line, but he nodded at the security man, who let Purdey go. Purdey jerked her arm away with a scowl, before hurrying to where Gambit, unwilling to exacerbate the situation further, was waiting. She looked like she wanted to embrace him, but didn't know if it would cause them even more trouble, so she settled with resting her fingers on his forearm. Somehow, it still managed to revive Gambit's spirits. Purdey made him feel like he could take on the world.

"Is it set?" she wanted to know, eyes searching his face, and Gambit nodded in confirmation.

"Tomorrow at five." He gave her a quick once-over. He didn't think Larry had done anything to her in the interim, but at this point he wasn't assuming anything was out of bounds. "Are you okay?"

"Well, the room service leaves much to be desired, and I don't care for the concierge, but other than that I think I'm all right."

Gambit grinned in spite of himself. Nothing kept Purdey down for long. "I'll take you somewhere with a good steak au poivre when all this is over."

"I'll hold you to that," Purdey vowed, returning his smile with a brilliant one of her own.

"That's enough, now," Larry cut in, sulking spectacularly behind his veneer of professionalism. "Purdey, Steed can take you home. Gambit can be his own insurance until tomorrow."

Purdey whirled round indignantly. "Oh, Larry, he's not going to run now. At least let him spend the night in his own bed."

"I doubt it's his own bed he'd end up in," Larry countered, and Purdey's fists clenched angrily. She looked ready to take a run at Larry, but Gambit rested a restraining hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay, Purdey. I've slept rough enough these past few days that a night in a cell will feel like the Ritz in comparison."

Purdey turned back to meet his eyes. She clearly wasn't happy about the situation, but knew there was little she could do about it. "You're sure you'll be all right?"

Gambit nodded reassuringly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Purdey considered for a moment, then threw caution to the winds and her arms around his neck, kissed him so hard he was breathless by the time the security man pulled him bodily away. That didn't stop Purdey smiling beatifically at her own act of rebellion. "I'll see you all tomorrow. Come on, Steed."

Purdey's kiss kept Gambit warm that night, but it was the look on Larry's face after Purdey had kissed him that made him smile.

vvv

The next morning, Steed paid an early visit to Gambit's spare accommodations in the Ministry's cell block. He nodded at the guard and waited until the man had closed the door behind them before turning to Gambit. "Ready?"

Gambit was stoic as he shrugged on his jacket. "As I'll ever be."

"You don't have to do this," Steed said gently, locking eyes with Mike. "We have the papers. We could just as easily send someone else in to try to trap her."

Gambit shook his head. "You know that won't work. She'd get away, and the next time she lurked outside Purdey's flat, she might end up doing more than just taking Purdey's picture."

Steed nodded sagely. "Is that why you're doing this? To protect Purdey?"

"Yes," Gambit admitted. "But not only her. The last thing I want is to get anyone mixed up in this. If it's not Purdey that Thyme targets, it'll be Sara. Or my aunt. Or you. No, I have to be the one to go in."

"Even if you're frightened?" Steed asked knowingly. "Mike, I've an inkling of what you've gone through. I know you've already seen her several times, but are you certain you can handle this? If you break down when you're finally there to make the exchange, you're going to be no help to anyone."

To his surprise, Gambit smiled. "Of course I'm frightened," he replied, with astounding frankness. "Hell, I hoped I'd never be reminded of the whole damn business again. But now that she's back, the best thing I can do is face her and finish this business once and for all. I couldn't live with myself knowing she still has enough of a hold over me to keep me from doing what I have to do. I've got to scale that wall, Steed."

Steed smiled slightly back, recalling the metaphor he'd used to explain to Purdey the importance of facing her fears. She must have passed that wisdom on to Gambit at some point. "If you think you can handle it..."

"I can," Gambit said with conviction. "I won't enjoy it, and for all I know I'll end up in her lair again or worse, but at least there's a better chance of someone finding me, unlike last time." He stared hard at Steed. "Isn't there?"

"If you're willing to ask for help, I'm more than willing to give it," Steed assured. "I only wanted to ensure that you're doing this for the right reasons."

"I'm doing it to get my life back," Gambit clarified. "Now that it's actually worth having. Or at the very least to protect the lives of the people I care about." He shot his cuffs with purpose. "I'm going to put an end to this whole bloody business, one way or another."

Steed nodded his approval, and the little smile told Gambit he'd passed some sort of test that he hadn't known Steed required, but he was relieved to have passed nonetheless. "I'll see you at the rendezvous."

vvv

Gambit was, somewhat roughly, ejected from a car on a bridge a certain distance from the warehouse that was the designated meeting point. He glared at the car as it pulled away, but quickly turned his mind to the task at hand. The cot in the cell where he had spent the night had hardly made for the most restful sleep, even setting his foreboding about what the day would bring aside, and there was a crick in his neck a mile wide. Still, he'd faced adversity in worse shape than this—Larry's people hadn't resorted to giving him a beating on top of everything else, though they probably wanted to—so he was at least going to face Thyme physically intact, which was more than he could say for the shape he'd been in back in 1973.

Gambit turned his eyes to the warehouse, regarded the dilapidated grey monolith under an equally grey sky with a healthy dose of foreboding. No matter what Larry had told him about the people placed around the perimeter, about Thyme not being able to escape, he knew that once he went inside there was a very good chance he might never come out again. Thyme was wily—she wouldn't have survived as long or acquired the reputation she had otherwise. She would have some sort of contingency in place, some trick that would make all the backup in the world redundant. It was going to be up to him to try to outmanoeuvre her on the fly, to ensure her capture or, at the very least, that the papers didn't wind up in her hands. Gambit had no idea how he was going to do that, but he was damned well going to try, even it meant paying the ultimate price. He set his jaw with grim resolve and steeled himself, started running through the mental exercises his instructors had taught him over the years to help him approach situations like these with calm and clarity, to be able to act with resolve and intent, rather than blind fear and panic. Almost immediately, he felt a calm wash over him. There was something poetic about the possibility of it ending here, in Battersea, the place of his birth and his childhood, his roots. The reunion of the boy he'd been and the man he'd become.

He'd drifted into an almost altered state of consciousness when another car suddenly pulled up to where he stood. Gambit swivelled round in surprise—was Larry coming back to take him away again? Had the operation been called off? But when the door swung open, it wasn't one of Larry's people who stepped out. Instead, a pair of shapely legs emerged, followed by the rest of a figure he knew very well indeed. Purdey alighted gracefully from the vehicle, closing the door behind her. It pulled away almost immediately, leaving the pair of them alone. Her skirt, slit for action, fluttered behind her in the breeze, exposing knee-high boots. She'd paired it with a figure-skimming ribbed shirt with three-quarter length sleeves. She was dressed for movement, should she need it for this operation, but without sacrificing her femininity. She was dressed like Purdey, plain and simple—confidently, defiantly, perfectly. If this was the last image he'd have of her, he couldn't have picked a better one.

Purdey moved to join Gambit, looked for a moment at his slim silhouette framed against the fading light as the sun dipped below the horizon, like the hero in a Western about to ride off into the sunset before the credits rolled. He had the same determined stance she had seen him use a hundred times before, whether playing a game of chicken, or facing a dangerous enemy. And now he was using it again, as he walked into his own worst nightmare. Purdey shook her head. It had never even occurred to Gambit to do anything else, not when it was his own burden to bear, and certainly not when her safety was an added incentive. She felt both angry and flattered at the sentiment, but fear was threatening to overcome both. Swallowing, she straightened her skirt for something to do.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her after a long, meaningful silence during which they said more with their eyes than they ever could have verbally.

Purdey put her hands on her hips. "That's not very creative or welcoming. You could have said, 'Fancy meeting you here', 'What a coincidence', or even 'We can't keep meeting like this'."

Gambit felt a lump in his throat. There she was, trying to make light of it for his sake. All he wanted to do was turn and run, to take Purdey with him, far away, where no one would find them, where they could try to make the life that they wanted, that she deserved. But that wasn't an option. Wherever he went, as long as he was with her and Thyme was still out there, she was in danger, and he couldn't afford that. Neither of them could. But that didn't make it any easier. "Sorry. I'm a bit on edge," Gambit said tiredly. "Want me to try again?"

"No, the moment's passed now." Purdey surveyed the landscape below them, including the warehouse, with the same sense of foreboding he had. They lapsed into silence for a moment, while Gambit waited for her to say something else, but no further comment was forthcoming.

"Everything ready?" he asked, determined to keep the mask of professionalism in place for as long as possible. He wasn't certain what would happen if he let it slip too early, if he'd be able to be brave enough for the both of them. Purdey nodded, raising her radio in her other hand.

"I'm equipped, and as soon as everyone is in place, we should be ready for the main event." She smiled tightly. "All this attention. You should feel flattered."

"I'd just as well skip the flattery and go home," Gambit muttered.

"I believe you," Purdey said flatly, mouth pressed into a thin line.

"I know I'm sounding like a cliché twice in quick succession," Gambit said finally, "but you still haven't said why you're here. I thought you were going to be keeping an eye on things with the rest of them."

"I'm here to give you the papers, of course," Purdey said, as though it were obvious.

Gambit blinked. "I thought Larry had that in hand. Didn't you give them to him as part of your deal?"

Purdey snorted derisively. "Trust Larry with them? And lose my leverage? I'd have to be mad. I won't say they didn't push me, but they've already called too many of the shots. This is my operation after all."

Gambit looked pointedly at her empty hands. "Unless my eyesight's going, you don't seem to have them either. Or am I meant to frisk you for them?"

"Don't you wish." Purdey's eyes were dancing. "No, I'm having them delivered. I sent them to a third party for safe keeping. He should be here any moment now."

"You've thought of everything, haven't you?" Gambit shook his head in admiration at her planning. "You're good, very good."

Purdey preened slightly. "Yes, well, I'm keeping tabs on my partner. I wouldn't be a very good agent if I didn't."

Gambit's admiring smile went a little crooked. "You've always been good," he said quietly. "You were good when you walked into my life that first day, almost two years ago. But now you're even better. Strong, capable, incisive. You're a damn fine agent, and you're only going to keep getting better. The Ministry would be mad to let you go after—" He paused, reconsidered what he was about to say, amended the language. "After this is all over," he finished, a bit lamely.

"After you're gone, you mean," Purdey said knowingly, expression souring. "Negative thinking, Gambit. It doesn't have to end that way. You're not doing this alone."

Gambit pursed his lips and averted his gaze. "I'm just being realistic," he said gruffly.

Purdey looked back at the warehouse, eyes suddenly sad and distant. "You say I was good when you met me. But I was afraid then, too." She looked back, met his gaze, held it as she tried to convey how important this was. "Afraid of whether I was going to be any good in the field, yes. It's one thing to be in training, but quite another to be out there with not only your own life but other people's in your hands. I didn't know if I was going to be good at it. I was new and inexperienced and I had you and Steed to impress. I thought if I humiliated myself in front of you, I'd never live it down."

"But you didn't. Like I said, you were good."

"I was," Purdey agreed. "But I was also lucky. I had partners who helped me instead of letting me fall on my face. But I was also afraid of being vulnerable. Caring about people. Being loved. Loving." She smiled at Gambit. "You helped me get past that. You and Steed. But especially you. Because Steed never let the waters get too deep, but you always had all your cards on the table and were just waiting for me to give you the go-ahead. And I knew the second I told you how I felt there'd be nowhere to hide. And the harder I fell for you, the harder it was. I thought it would hurt too much if something happened. If it went wrong, or if you died, I didn't think I could bear it, and it'd be easier if I kept myself safe. But I was wrong. I could have been with you a long, long time ago, but I let fear keep me away. But you stayed and waited and never stopped loving me until I wasn't afraid—to be vulnerable, to love, to let people in. That was because of you, Mike Gambit." Her voice was wavering now. The banter had been their way of keeping the waters from getting too deep, but they couldn't hide behind it forever. "And now, because of me, we've only had a little time together. So I'm not giving up on you, Mike Gambit. We've waited too long—you waited too long. We deserve more than a few months of happiness."

"That's more than I ever could have asked for," Gambit interjected, also blinking back tears. "When I met you, I thought you were the greatest thing I'd ever seen. That hasn't changed. I never thought I'd have a purpose beyond the job. I never thought I'd have an anchor. I thought I'd drift for the rest of my days, if I was lucky enough to get them. To get a chance to love somebody, and have them love me back-that's more than I could have ever asked for, Purdey-girl." Gambit swallowed hard. "And I want you to know that having that these past few weeks, even if it's all we get, was worth waiting for. I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Purdey was shaking her head. "This isn't the end, Mike. I'll make sure of it. You're going to make it back whether you like it or not. I didn't make this deal just so you could play noble self-sacrificing hero." Gambit opened his mouth to reply, but just then yet another car pulled up to where they were standing. A man, dressed in a white blazer that made him look akin to a waiter on a cruise ship, leapt out of the driver's seat and scurried to open the rear door. An older man, perhaps in his sixties, emerged, resplendent in his army uniform, carrying an attaché case in his left hand. Gambit frowned slightly in recognition. He knew him from somewhere, but he couldn't work out where.

The military man put his hat on his head and, without warning, began to berate the man in the white coat who was still holding the passenger door open. "About time, Carver. We must have driven around the entire city twice. I could've crossed half of India by the time you worked out which side of the Thames we were meant to be on."

"I'm sorry, Colonel Foster," the beleaguered Carver apologised. "I'm not familiar with this part of the city."

"Never heard of a map, have you?" Foster sniffed. "And we had an appointment to keep! Imagine if we'd been late."

"Oh, Uncle Elly, I knew Carver would get you here in time," Purdey interjected on the poor batman's behalf, smiling slightly at Foster's antics. As they embraced, Gambit realised where he'd seen the military man before—Elroyd Foster was Purdey's uncle, the one who'd provided part of the cavalry after the nasty business with "Mad Jack" Miller and the 19th Special Commando a year or so earlier. Purdey always spoke of him fondly as one of her absolute favourite relations, a kindred spirit who shared her sense of the absurd and contradictory streak. Gambit had hoped to get to know the man better as Purdey and himself became more involved, but at this point he didn't know if he'd ever have a chance.

"I have your package here," Foster said to Purdey, brandishing the attaché case. "Didn't open it. Thought it'd be better for us all if I didn't, even though Carver was deucy curious about it when it arrived." He regarded Purdey with mild concern. "Are you all right, my girl? You look strained."

Purdey's smile got a little tighter. "I'm better now that you're here, Uncle Elly. Thank you for keeping it safe."

"My pleasure, my dear." Foster seemed to notice Gambit for the first time, and Gambit found himself snapping to attention automatically, his army training, ironically the reason they were all there, instinctively taking over. He only just managed to avoid saluting, which would only raise questions they didn't have time to answer at this point. "And who are you, young fellow? You look a tad familiar."

"Mike Gambit, sir," Gambit informed, the honourific slipping out automatically. "We met briefly after that business with Colonel Miller, sir."

"Ah, yes. Nasty business, that. You were the fellow who took Miller hostage, then went and threw it all away because my niece was stuck in that minefield." Gambit winced both at the memory and what he took to be an implied criticism. But Foster wasn't finished. "Would have done the same myself. Pick your battles, eh? Always could have found a way out of a cell. Can't replace something precious." He smiled fondly at Purdey. "She tells me you take good care of her."

"We take care of each other, sir," Gambit corrected.

Foster nodded curtly, as though he approved of that answer. "Well, she's certainly doing that for you, aren't you my girl? I don't claim to know what this is all about, but I know it's for your benefit."

"I never asked her to, sir—" Gambit protested.

"No, but once Purdey has her mind set on something, there isn't much point in arguing, I've found. You'd do well to remember that."

Gambit grinned at Purdey. "I learned my lesson a long time ago, sir."

Purdey smiled back fondly, then averted her eyes when the waters got too deep. She checked her watch instead, for something to do, started slightly in alarm. "I'm sorry, Uncle Elly. We have work to do."

"Say no more, my dear," Foster said, opening up the attaché case and withdrawing the metal box Purdey and Sara had retrieved from the graveyard. "I hope that's all in order."

Purdey clutched the box like the lifeline it was. "Thank you, Uncle Elly. You have no idea how important this is."

"I suspect not, but we'll leave it there, shall we? I'm sure you'll tell me what it's all about after this business is over, whatever it is." He rested a reassuring hand on Purdey's arm. "Carver and I will make our way back." He nodded at Gambit. "Good to see you again, Gambit. We'll have to meet again soon. I expect we have some war stories to exchange."

Gambit nodded smartly. "I look forward to it, sir." He didn't have the heart to tell the man he didn't know if he'd live long enough to make the appointment. He knew Purdey didn't either, because she busied herself with seeing her uncle off in the car. She waved until they were out of sight, then turned back to Gambit, holding the box to her chest. Gambit looked pointedly at it. "I'd better take that."

Purdey hesitated for a moment, clearly reluctant to hand it over. If she did, that meant Gambit could go into the warehouse and face off against a woman who had nearly killed him once, and had a chance to do so again. It wasn't an idea she relished. But the agent in her knew that they didn't have time to dawdle over sentimentality. She wasn't going to help Gambit by delaying him. So, with great effort, she handed the box over.

Gambit took it and inspected it, looking for any signs of tampering, but finding none. Purdey nodded at the keyhole, choosing not to mention that she'd cracked the lock herself. "We didn't find a key with it. I suppose Vanessa Thyme will have to find her own way in if she wants it that badly."

"Who says I don't have the key?" Gambit said mysteriously.

Purdey arched an interested eyebrow. "Oh? Does your St. Christopher magically transform into a lock-picking kit?"

"It's a bit more obvious than that," Gambit revealed, digging in his pocket as he did so. "Painfully obvious, really."

Purdey watched in surprise as he extracted his keyring, flipped through the various keys one at a time. "It can't be that obvious," she scoffed.

Gambit settled on an unremarkable brass example, held it up for her inspection. "Want to bet?" He inserted it in the lock and turned it. The box popped open with remarkable ease, revealing a package wrapped in plastic. Gambit extracted it, then waggled his eyebrows at her. "Nothing like hiding in plain sight," he quipped. "Everyone has keys on their ring for things that they don't use anymore. Even Larry wouldn't think that was strange."

Purdey shook her head in disbelief. "Mike Gambit, I don't know if that was brilliant or foolhardy."

"Probably a bit of both," Gambit admitted, tossing the box aside. He regarded the package with more than a modicum of ire. "Not much to look at it, given how much grief it's caused me over the years."

"That could apply just as easily to half a dozen people we work with," Purdey pointed out, and Gambit managed a small smile at the joke. They were coming to the crunch now, and levity was in short supply. He checked his watch, could see the time of his rendezvous was at hand.

"I should be going," he said noncommittally, not sure he could walk away at all if he lingered long enough to let emotion catch up with him.

Purdey was of a similar mindset, nodded once curtly. "Right." She stepped in closer, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. When she pulled back, she noticed that Gambit looked a bit surprised by her casualness. "Well, I'm not going to make a fuss when you're going to be back here in less than an hour. I can't let you exploit every crisis to your advantage."

Gambit smiled back bravely, but Purdey could tell the confidence was feigned. "Thank you."

Purdey frowned in confusion. "For what?"

"For never letting me get away with anything," Gambit said fondly. "I needed it."

"You mean you need it," Purdey said crisply, emphasising the present tense. "And you'll still need it when you get back. You'll be all right Steed and I will be watching. Just don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"I hope that gives me as much leeway as I think it does," Gambit quipped, and Purdey felt a surge of relief that he could still make a joke.

"I'll see you soon," she vowed, a promise on both of their behalves that she hoped could be kept. Then she turned and started to walk away, determined not to look back lest she not be able to leave him behind. But Gambit apparently hadn't quite said his piece.

"In case I never get a chance to ask," he said quickly, words stumbling over one another as though he didn't quite dare say what he was saying, but genuinely thought there was no alternative. Purdey stopped in her tracks, not sure whether it was his tone or the insinuation that he might not make it back alive that affected her more. "If we had more time, and we didn't wind up driving each other mad…" Purdey looked over her shoulder at him, and she could see there was the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. "If I ever asked you to marry me, do you think you'd say 'yes'?"

Purdey felt her heart stop, but willed her face to remain impassive. If she started crying now, she'd never stop. "That's a very big hypothetical to drop on a girl."

Gambit's mouth quirked up on one side. "Well, if this isn't the time to pose ridiculous hypotheticals, when is?"

Purdey turned to face him, but didn't close the distance between them. "It is a hypothetical, then? Nothing more?"

"It's a question, Purdey."

"Only one?" Purdey shook her head. "I count two."

Gambit swallowed hard. "Yeah, but there's only one I can properly ask right now."

"I think that you're quite capable of asking both," Purdey countered briskly.

"Okay, in that case, which one do you want to answer?"

Purdey's eyes were dancing with mischief, circumstances be damned. "Which one are you asking?"

Gambit closed his eyes, barely holding it together. "Purdey, please."

"Are you asking?"

Gambit thought about it for a moment, tried to weigh the pros and cons, think about what the sane, logical thing to do in this situation was. Then he promptly threw that all away and listened to his heart instead. He opened his eyes. "Yes," he said finally.

Purdey, to her credit, didn't even blink. In a strange sort of way, she actually looked relieved, question and circumstances and sanity be damned. "Then yes," she pronounced, releasing two years' of pent up yearning in as many words.

Gambit opened his mouth to reply, then paused, realised he wasn't entirely certain that Purdey knew what she was agreeing to. Hell, he wasn't even entirely sure he'd asked what he thought he'd asked. "Wait, what…?"

"You did ask," Purdey said simply.

"Well, yes," Gambit began. "I mean, I think I did."

"And I answered," Purdey finished, as though impromptu, ambiguous marriage proposals were made to her all the time.

Gambit was still struggling. "Yes, but what did you say 'yes' to?"

"I said 'yes,' Mike Gambit," Purdey said softly, retracing her steps to meet him once more. "I think that ought to be more than enough for you."

Gambit looked at her in awe for a moment, then kissed her fiercely. Purdey kissed back, just as fiercely, closing her eyes against tears she had no intention of shedding. Gambit was vaguely aware of Ministry men milling around a short distance away, testing radios and going over any final arrangements. Some of them would surely look their way. To hell with it. He didn't give a damn what they saw anymore. Let them gossip. Forget keeping things professional. He wasn't walking away from her without saying goodbye properly. He had her in his arms before he even knew what he was doing, felt her free hand grasp a handful of his shirt, the other hand, clutching a radio to keep in touch with the rest of the team, draped over his shoulder as he tasted her one last time. When they broke apart, she added, "Now you definitely have to come back alive. My mother would be absolutely furious if she knew you left me in the lurch."

"A fate worse than death," Gambit agreed, stroking her cheek. "I definitely don't want to upset your mother."

"Then come back," Purdey whispered. An order.

"I'll do whatever I can," Gambit promised, "to make it back to you."

It wasn't a promise to come back. Purdey knew that. She knew that Gambit never broke his promises. He wasn't going to make one he wasn't sure he could keep, and she wasn't going to push him for it.

"I'll be waiting," she said instead. "Go."

"I love you," he said. And went.