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.

The walk down to the warehouse went surprisingly fast, although Gambit's distracted state of mind might have played some small part in warping his perception of time. It had undoubtedly been the wrong place and the wrong time to ask Purdey to marry him, but then their relationship had never quite followed the rules, so why should it start now? He still wasn't quite sure what had pushed him to ask the question when he did, but the idea that he may never have another chance had suddenly sprung into his mind, and he couldn't help himself. It was a question he'd wanted to ask for a long time, and his new romance with Purdey had only heightened that desire. But he hadn't planned to pose it so soon into their relationship. It had taken Purdey nearly two years to admit she loved him, after all. Bringing up marriage when they could measure the length of their involvement in weeks rather than months was foolhardy to say the least, and the easiest way to spook a woman who had proven cautious in love. But Gambit had little to lose now, and he'd gained something with her answer. He knew very well that Purdey might have said 'yes' because she thought saying 'no' to him could result in a potentially lethal bout of fatalism that he would carry into this already-deadly rendezvous. A 'yes', on the other hand, provided hope, something to hang onto in this dark time. She could always take it back after the fact, when he was safe—if he ever was safe. Gambit wouldn't hold her to her answer, and she knew it. But even if it was a sham, a mind trick they were both complicit in intended only to give him something to live for, it was worth it. Because it was working. Gambit hadn't wanted to leave Purdey behind, even if he knew he didn't have a choice, but Purdey accepting his spontaneous proposal, whether that answer was a sham or not, had given him a little boost, a shot in the arm, incentive to keep going. He still didn't know if he was going to make it back to her, but he was damned if he wasn't going to try.

He was halfway through his descent to the warehouse with this thought in mind when he heard the clatter of rocks behind him. He whipped around just in time to catch sight of Purdey as she jumped the rest of the way down the incline and landed scant feet from where he stood.

"What are you doing?" Gambit exclaimed, clearly alarmed, as Purdey proceeded to dust off the fine dirt that had accumulated on her skirt on the journey down the hill.

"I'm coming with you," Purdey said matter-of-factly, straightening up and squaring her shoulders as though preparing for battle. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Coming with-?" Gambit repeated, uncomprehending, all thoughts of their impromptu possible engagement banished in the face of this new, confusing state of affairs. "I thought you were staying up there with Steed and the rest?"

"Well, I would have to make you believe that, wouldn't I?" Purdey said, quite reasonably, as though her actions made all the sense in the world. "Otherwise you'd try to stop me. I needed you to think I was staying behind until it was too late for me to go back." She pulled a face, annoyance creeping into her voice. "Rather like the way you called in your own arrest before I could talk you out of it."

"That was different!" Gambit countered, somewhat desperately. "I needed them to bring me in. I needed Vanessa to think that I wasn't in control. That was the only way I was going to get her to agree to an exchange with this many safeguards. I didn't tell you because I wanted you to think I was out of options, too. If I could convince you, I could convince anyone."

Purdey nodded, as though that made sense. "So that was your reasoning. I did wonder."

"Now I'm wondering about yours." Gambit was exasperated now. "It's still not too late for you to turn around, Purdey. You know you can't come with me."

Purdey looked at him sharply. "I can, you know. I'm quite capable of walking to that warehouse."

"You know what I mean." Gambit was looking panicked now. He could feel the sight of Vanessa's sniper, whom she'd told him to expect and who was undoubtedly in the vicinity, no matter how many sweeps Larry had done, prickling at the back of his skull, lining up his sight on him or, even worse, Purdey. "Vanessa told me to come alone. That was the agreement."

"Yes," Purdey agreed unconcernedly. "But she also agreed that she'd turn over evidence that she used to set you up if I persuaded you to turn over the papers. So I'm here to make sure she keeps that part of the bargain. Then we can make sure you're in the clear once and for all. Although I am hoping we can take them off of her without handing anything over at all."

Gambit was gaping at her again, well and truly blindsided. "Bargain?" he managed, sounding strangled. "What bargain? When did you strike a bargain with Vanessa Thyme?"

"While you were on the run," Purdey informed unconcernedly, throwing her shoulders back in that idiosyncratic way she used when she was feeling particularly confident and pleased with herself. "I wasn't going to sit around waiting for you to make contact, so I put the word out that I'd like to have a chat with her, and she obliged."

"Put the word out?" Gambit repeated faintly, still shell-shocked. "How?"

Purdey shrugged with practised casualness, triumphant smile visible a mile away, a beacon in the late afternoon sun. "Well, I thought that since our people were watching me in case you tried to make contact, she might be, too. So I rang Steed and mentioned, quite casually, that I wished I could talk to Miss Thyme myself and try to strike some sort of deal. It must have worked because she turned up at my flat."

"Turned up-?" Gambit was apoplectic. "Purdey, she could have killed you!"

"Possibly. But not before she heard what I had to say. She wants those papers and doesn't care how she gets them. And anyway, she's had me in her sights since this whole thing began. I've been at risk from the start. I thought I might as well get something back in return. So I made another call to Steed this morning, and said something about how I'd make certain you turned over those papers, and that I expected her to keep her part of the bargain. I'm going to assume that she was listening, which means I get to be in on this exchange, too. If she doesn't like it, she can trot back to whatever hole she crawled out of until she's ready to keep her part of the deal."

Gambit cradled his head in his hands. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"For the same reason that you didn't tell me you were going to let yourself get caught until just before it happened, or that you were going to get Sara to retrieve the papers." Purdey looked pleased with herself, and it wasn't hard to work out why. It was check and mate and she knew it.

Gambit sagged resignedly. "I wanted to protect you," he said tiredly.

"What do you think I've been trying to do?" Purdey exclaimed in exasperation, hands on hips. "This works two ways, Mike Gambit. I know it's your problem, but your problems have been mine for a long time, just as mine have been yours."

Gambit smiled a little crookedly at that. "I guess I should feel flattered."

"You should," Purdey said briskly. "Now let's get a move on. We don't want to be late."

"I could just go in without you," Gambit pointed out, wagging the package at her. "I have the papers now. I can bargain for my freedom and the evidence."

"You have some of them," Purdey corrected, pulling a thin sheaf from the waistband of her skirt, where they had been tucked beneath her shirt. "I took the liberty of keeping a few. I left them with mum. She brought them down this morning. I've taken sheets randomly from throughout. I'm not a scientist, but I expect none of what you have will make sense without my pages." She flashed a slightly patronising smile at him. "Anyway, did you honestly think I was going to let you go into a room alone with that woman after what happened the last time? I couldn't be there in 1973, but I can this time. So, no me, no papers. Okay?"

Gambit threw back his head and laughed in spite of himself at the absurdity of it all. "Only you, Purdey," he murmured between peals of slightly hysterical laughter. "Only you. But I should have known you wouldn't let me get away that easily. And do you know something? I'm glad for it."

Purdey's face lit up like a lantern. "So you're not going to stop me from coming along?"

"I don't really have a choice, but I can't think of anyone I'd rather have by my side." Gambit reached out a hand to her, and she went to him quickly, took it and squeezed it so hard, he wasn't sure she'd ever let go. "Here we go, into the breach. Does Steed know you're pulling a fast one?"

Purdey gave him a look. "Of course."

Gambit sighed in a way that said he should have known. "And Larry?"

Purdey's smile turned wicked. "No."

"Thought so. He's in for a surprise. Let's get going before he works out that you're not at your post and arrests us both."

vvv

The warehouse was out of commission, but someone—either Vanessa or the previous owners—had seen fit to leave the doors gaping open at both ends, exposing the interior to the elements. Purdey stuck close to Gambit's side as they approached the door Vanessa had instructed Gambit to use. There was nothing to say now, and nothing being said. Purdey and Gambit had long ago perfected the art of wordless communication, a skill essential for a partnership in their line of work, not only to ensure the success of their assignment, but for their very survival. Purdey kept her eyes open, scanning every inch of their surroundings as they moved, leaving the navigation to Gambit. She had returned her share of the papers to their hiding place tucked into the waist of her skirt with her shirt pulled over it, leaving her hands free for combat if she needed them, although, given her high-kicking fighting style, odds were that she wouldn't. But this was Vanessa Thyme, not a standard-issue thug, and Purdey knew she needed every advantage she could get against this particular opponent.

Their first step inside the warehouse was welcomed by a disturbingly loud echo in the cavernous space, enough to make both Purdey and Gambit start in surprise. As the sound died away, the pair exchanged rueful smiles at how tightly wound they were, but the reprieve was short-lived.

"I told you to come alone, Major." If the footsteps had been loud, the voice was deafening. Purdey and Gambit reacted and peered down the expanse of the building, where a figure was just visible, framed in the large square of daylight that was the open door at the other end of the massive space.

"And I thought we had a deal," Gambit shot back, starting to move again, Purdey hurrying to keep pace beside him. He looked angry now, rather than scared, and if Purdey hadn't known about the seemingly unending reserves of his self-control, she would have expected him to charge at the woman. "You didn't mention that you'd struck another one with Purdey."

The figure shrugged as it slowly grew bigger in the outline of the door with each step they took. "I thought you two would share absolutely everything." The last word dripped with faux saccharine sweetness. "But it's nice to know even the best partnerships have their secrets."

"Not secrets. Strategies," Purdey cut in, wanting a piece of the action. She'd said she wasn't going to let Gambit take this monster on alone, and she meant it. Her voice carried in warehouse, and she liked the authoritative note the acoustics added. "You made a deal with me, and I intend to see you honour it."

Vanessa cocked her head, the motion easier to see now that they were getting closer. Her stance was wide, arms loose by her sides in a way meant to convey passivity. Gambit knew better, knew that she was coiled to spring even as she stood there, motionless. He'd had a lot of experience in learning the finer nuances of her behaviour and what they meant for his well-being, his imminent survival. She could hide nothing from him now. The years had passed, but she was the same. Just as beautiful. Just as cold. Her lace-up black combat boots might have been the same ones she'd worn when she ordered his torments in 1973 for all he knew, and they looked infuriatingly stylish paired with the black culottes, leather jacket, and figure-hugging shirt she was also clad in. On some objective level, Gambit knew men would desire her, but he was immune to her charms. "Hold it," she commanded, but Gambit kept moving. "I said stop, Major," she reiterated. Without warning, she stamped her right boot on the floor, just the way she used to when Gambit was proving particularly stubborn, and her temper was running short. Gambit took a step backward in spite of himself, eyes squeezing shut as nightmares—real nightmares-flashed behind them. When he opened them, Vanessa was grinning. She'd rattled him and she knew it. She was also brandishing what looked suspiciously like a detonator. "If you, at any point, think you can make a ridiculous break for freedom, I'll warn you that I have rigged this building up with enough explosives to bring a large part of it down on your head. Both of you." She paused to let that particular fact sink in.

Gambit's jaw was working silently as he stewed, laser gaze cutting straight through Vanessa. Purdey took it upon herself to break the silence, shrugged unconcernedly. "If you do, you'll be doing the city a favour. I'm sure they've been meaning to demolish this place for years now."

Vanessa's mouth pursed in annoyance. Humour was not the reaction she had been expecting, and the fact that she'd failed to get an audible rise out of either agent clearly stuck in her craw. "I also have a sniper," she growled, upping the ante. "Very good. Very accurate. If he senses anything untoward has gone on, that I've been betrayed or captured, he'll kill your friends. If he gets word from me that I'm not happy at any time, for any reason, he'll kill them." She pulled a radio transmitter from her pocket, held it up for him to see. "Don't bother trying to warn your people," she added, nodding to the radio that Purdey had clipped to the front of her skirt's waistband, rather than at the back where the papers were hidden. Purdey followed her eyeline, then looked to Gambit, who nodded. She unclipped it and tossed it aside with a poisonous glare. Vanessa waited until it had clattered across the concrete and come to rest a short distance away before continuing. "My man is well-hidden. They won't find him. But he's found them. So if you want everyone to get out of this alive, you'd better turn over those papers post-haste and let me walk free, unharmed. And you'd better do it quickly. My boy's trigger finger gets awfully itchy if he's kept waiting. I'm sure you're not best mates with absolutely every one of those people out there, but are you happy to let them all die for your cause? Because my boy will pick them all off, every one, until all that's left is you and me. Is that what you want, Major? How many lives are those papers worth to prevent whatever disaster you're convinced they'll cause?" She nodded at the door behind him. "I know Mr. Steed is out there. A legend in his own time, a fine agent. Should have been dead ages ago, but he's ever so lucky, ever so skilled. I understand you're quite good friends. Had a bit of a rough start when you first started working together, but given how stubborn you are that's hardly surprising. I'm willing to bet you value his life almost as much as Miss Bryde's."

Purdey could tell that Gambit was trying not to betray any emotion, but she was close enough to see that all of the blood had drained out of his face; that, in spite of his best efforts, Vanessa's threats were getting to him. That, as much as he was frightened of what might happen if he turned over the papers, he was equally frightened of what she might do if he didn't.

Vanessa went on, casually counting lives off on her fingers as if they were worth nothing at all. "Then we'll just move down the ranks. There are other agents out there. You must be friendly with some of them. I know you take the deaths of colleagues hard, especially when you might have done something to save them. Even that Larry fellow you've been having so much trouble with. I'm sure you don't hate him enough to actually want him dead." She paused and considered. "Perhaps you do. If you're going to lose them all, there might as well be some upside." She narrowed her eyes at Gambit. "How long, Major? How long could you hold out? Do you honestly think you'll be able to stand by while all your people are slaughtered, that you won't give in and beg me to take the papers just to make it all end?" Her lips twisted in a sneer. "How brave are you really, Major Gambit? Because I've been in a room with you at your lowest, and I don't think you can take that without going mad."

"If you kill anyone," Gambit growled, "not only won't I give you the papers, but I'll finish you myself, damn the consequences."

Vanessa smirked. "Would you really, Major?" she taunted. "Kill me, just like that? In cold blood?"

"In hot blood," Purdey chipped in. "Gambit has Irish on his granny's side."

"How terribly interesting," Vanessa drawled, gaze shifting from Purdey to Gambit. "And what about you, Miss Bryde? I've seen your file. You're not a seasoned operative. If I kill the Major, will you kill me in hot blood?"

"If you'd read my file as well as you claim," Purdey said unconcernedly, "and if you'd paid more attention to my surname, which you seem to be so fond of bandying about in an attempt to rattle me—though it's rather more annoying than anything else-you might have discovered that I'm Scots on my father's side. It was McBride several generations ago, then Bride, and then became 'Bryde' during a detour through Wales. I think my great grandfather rather liked their liberal use of the letter 'y'."

Gambit was regarding her with genuine interest. "Really? I didn't know that."

"We've been a bit too busy to go through all the branches of my family tree," Purdey pointed out, patting his arm reassuringly. "I promise I'll explain it all one of these days."

Gambit winked. "I'm looking forward to it."

Purdey wrinkled her nose playfully at him, then turned back to Vanessa. "The point is, as a hereditary Scot, I don't need hot blood to kill you. I'm programmed to not only be forever ready for a scrap, but to rather look forward to it. So you're welcome to try your luck."

vvv

Steed sat outside the warehouse, radio in hand, eyes ever vigilant for anything out of the ordinary. He'd purposefully ignored the alarmed squawking from the radio when Larry had caught sight of Purdey accompanying Gambit into the warehouse, and his pointed inquiries as to whether he'd known about her intention in advance. Fortunately, as Steed had predicted, Larry had not wanted to risk botching the rendezvous by forcibly dragging Purdey out of the building. No one knew what Vanessa was doing or how exactly she was going to play the exchange. A sudden invasion of agents-at least two drag to Purdey off, more if Gambit protested-would violate the terms of the agreement more than Purdey herself getting too close would, and Larry was not going to risk spooking their prize before time. Only Steed knew that Purdey had initiated contact with Vanessa, and that she had made a separate deal with the woman to get evidence to clear Gambit's name, in addition to the one she'd made with Larry to let Gambit go in exchange for the papers and Vanessa Thyme. Purdey didn't care which one came through, as long as Gambit could walk away at the end of the day a free man, alive and unharmed, with his reputation intact. She'd told Steed that she was going into the warehouse today to ensure one of her deals was honoured, but from Gambit's body language, he suspected she hadn't given Gambit similar advance warning. Steed smiled to himself. Like her, he knew Gambit well enough to know that he wouldn't want to let anyone else jeopardise themselves, as content as he was to walk into the lion's den himself. And like Gambit, Steed knew that Purdey was not easily dissuaded from a course of action once she'd set her mind to it. Whatever inaudible protestations Gambit had undoubtedly made when he discovered Purdey was following him, they'd been quickly brushed aside, and the pair had entered as a unified front.

They'd only been inside a few minutes when Steed had felt the telltale prickle at the back of his neck that told him his sixth sense was not only functioning but had picked up some data. Steed remained stock still, knowing better than to start obviously looking around for an interloper. With practised unconcern, Steed raised the radio to his lips and keyed in. "Larry, who do you have with eyes on what's behind me?"

There was a pause and then the radio crackled to life. "I have Merton and McBain directly across from you. What's going on?"

"Just a feeling," Steed replied noncommittally. "Have a look for any suspicious shapes in the area behind me. Subtly, of course."

"You heard the man," came Larry's reply. "What do you reckon? One of Thyme's people?"

"Possibly," Steed allowed. "I'd be very surprised if she didn't have eyes somewhere."

"Can't be too many. We swept the area when we came in. No one could get into the perimeter without us noticing."

"Sometimes it doesn't take very many," Steed pointed out. "Sometimes it only takes one."

"Steed!" It was McBain, sounding urgent. "I think you're right. There's a copse of trees behind you, quite dark, but I think I see a man up top. We swept that area, but he might have slipped through the net by moving between treetops."

"Sniper," Steed identified, more to himself that anyone else, but he was keyed in, so the message was relayed to all and sundry. He tapped his fingers idly on the handle of his brolly as he considered his next move. Finally, he raised the radio to his lips and said, "Larry, I rather think it's in our best interests to remove our friend, but we have to do it intelligently."

"I'm all ears," came the reply. Steed smiled.

vvv

From his vantage point, the sniper could see the agents spread out in their various positions. It had been difficult to evade them as they swept the area, but it had been worth it to get the best vantage point in the whole area, save for the roof of the warehouse itself. And the sniper knew that could become a very unsafe place to be at any minute.

The agents weren't doing much, but Vanessa had told him they probably wouldn't, at least for awhile. Gambit hadn't been inside that long, after all, and apparently the girl who'd come with him had been granted entry because everything hadn't kicked off when she'd gone in. All the agents outside did was talk on their radios a lot, but their signal was scrambled and he hadn't been able to crack it. It didn't matter, though. Regardless of how inactive they remained, he'd been told to start picking them off after a set amount of time, regardless of whether Vanessa called in to tell him to attack. It was the next stage to turn up the pressure on Gambit and get him to turn over the papers without a fuss. She'd been particularly clear that he ought to keep an eye on Steed, and to possibly take him out, but not right away. If Steed went first, a lot of the leverage apparently went with him, though the sniper couldn't personally work out why a man with a bowler and umbrella was particularly valuable. Still, those had been his orders, and there were plenty of other targets on offer. Gambit wouldn't know who had been killed from inside the warehouse—the possibility that it was Steed was enough to turn the screws. If Gambit insisted on being difficult, then there would be time to take Steed out as well.

As the sniper watched, the agents chatted on the radio, and then started to move. The sniper snapped to attention, observing their movements with suspicion. He'd been instructed to relay any suspicious activity to Vanessa, but not to contact her unduly—if the news was bad, she didn't want to risk giving Gambit hope, which would undoubtedly make things more difficult from a bargaining standpoint. So the sniper watched and waited, holding off until he could get a sense of what the agents were doing.

After a few moments, he concluded that he'd been right to hold off. The most important thing was that no one approached the warehouse, but the agents were keeping to the perimeter, wending their way carefully around the circle they'd created, each shifting a few posts over from where they'd been. Inferring that this was just a surveillance technique, a way of getting 'fresh eyes' on the situation lest anyone fall prey to the monotony of staring at the same view, the sniper relaxed. He'd just witnessed a round of "ring around the rosie" performed by the intelligence services, but nothing more. They were all still accounted for, all still chatting on their radios and looking expectantly at the warehouse and their surroundings. All of them. Except…

Except one.

The sniper looked down his scope and swept his gaze all the way around the ring of agents. Some had temporarily dropped out of view as they moved, but they'd all eventually reappeared.

All except Steed.

The bowler-hatted silhouette that had set Steed apart from the rank and file was no longer present in the circle. The sniper looked around frantically, trying to locate Steed somewhere else in the vicinity—by the cars, on the road, by the warehouse. Nothing. The man had vanished.

This definitely counted as something suspicious. The sniper reached down and grabbed his radio, determined to call Vanessa regardless of whether she was busy or not. But before he could press the transmit button, something hooked over his wrist and tugged hard, forcing him to drop the radio. It clattered through the branches and landed with a soft 'thump' on the grass below. The sniper looked down uncomprehendingly at his wrist, which seemed to have been hooked by a piece of bamboo that was attached to an umbrella. He followed the shaft of the umbrella, and discovered that it connected to an arm, and the arm was attached to a torso, which was attached to a head, which was wreathed by a smiling face.

"Hello," Steed greeted, perched on the branch below the sniper, beaming brightly. "I thought you might want to drop in and join us." Before the sniper could comprehend what had happened, Steed tugged hard and pulled the unfortunate man from the tree. He tumbled to the ground below, gun going off as he went, and hit the ground with a thunk. Steed regarded the unconscious man for a moment. "Oh, dear," he said unconcernedly. "Was it something I said?"