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.
"What about our deal?" Purdey wanted to know, as Gambit shook his head to clear it, trying to ward off the headache that had threatened to overwhelm him the second Vanessa had stomped her boot against the floor. "Do you have the evidence to clear Gambit?"
"Yes," Vanessa confirmed, "but why should I hand it over when the Major has agreed to turn over the papers in exchange for me leaving him in peace?"
"Because Gambit doesn't have all the papers," Purdey retorted, pulling the slim folio from her waistband. "I have some of them, and I won't hand them over for any less than what I was promised."
Vanessa looked sharply at Gambit. "Major, this was not what we agreed."
"No," Gambit confirmed, letting a small smile play over his lips. "It's what you agreed. With Purdey. You'll have to conduct two transactions instead of one. And don't ask me to try to talk her around. Purdey does what she likes." He cast a fond look at his partner. "It's one of her best features," he murmured, a private aside just for her, which Purdey reciprocated with a smile in kind.
There was silence as Vanessa stewed, clearly unhappy with this turn of events. She aimed her laser gaze at the pair, but they were a united front, unwavering, showing no trace of fear. "All right," she said finally, brandishing the detonator. "But we do this my way or not at all. Either of you try to do something clever, and I'll start picking off your friends outside. If I don't bring the roof tumbling down on your head first." Thyme held the detonator up, side-by-side with the radio in her other hand. "So let's recap, shall we, Major? If you try to kill me, Miss Bryde and your friends die. If you let your people capture me, Miss Bryde and your friends die. If you refuse to hand over the papers, Miss Bryde and your friends die. If you make a run for it, the building comes down on you, and both you and Miss Bryde die." She pretended to consider the scenarios she had just laid out for a moment, as though a difficult decision was in the offing. "I'm sensing a trend."
"Yes, you've made the stakes quite clear," Purdey said blithely. "Since we're restating the blindingly obvious, I'll remind you that if you don't keep your half of the bargain, we'll come after you. And as we won't have a lot to lose if Gambit winds up being declared a traitor, I wouldn't take that threat lightly." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Personally, I don't need a reason to take you down, but if I made an attempt, Gambit might worry, and I'm not interested in causing him any more distress. Not unless you give me a very a good reason."
Vanessa, unexpectedly, responded with a broad smile. "The pair of you really are devoted to one another, aren't you? I'd read the files, but to witness it firsthand…" She shook her head in mild disbelief. "It's very touching. And very useful, for my purposes." Purdey chanced a look at Gambit, and saw that his jaw had tightened. She knew something ominous was afoot. Vanessa was considering them with an appraising eye that made Purdey feel uncomfortably like the turkey served up for Christmas dinner.
Gambit held his package up, waved it back and forth in front of her, by way of diversion. "Come on, then," he barked impudently. "Come and get it."
Vanessa could hear the taunt in his voice, and her eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm not about to fetch and carry for you, Major," she shot back.
Gambit resisted the urge to smile. He'd been hoping she'd rise to the bait. He knew from experience the last thing Vanessa liked was to be told what to do by anyone who wasn't paying her. He wanted her to let him get close to her, against her better judgment. There were so many more ways to deal with her if he eliminated the length of the vast warehouse that was currently separating them. Perhaps he'd find a way out of this after all.
"Here's what we're going to do," Vanessa said finally, and Purdey felt a frisson of adrenaline course through her body in anticipation. "Miss Bryde is going to give you her share of the papers, Major. Then she's going to stand over there." She indicated a patch of floor below a package of explosives that Gambit could see lodged amongst the beams in the ceiling. Gambit whipped his head back around in alarm as he realised where this was leading. "Now just a minute—"
"Once she's in position," Vanessa cut in fiercely, "you, Major, will walk the papers over to a third of the way between us. You'll set them on the floor, very carefully. I'll do the same with your lady's—" She broke off as Purdey snorted derisively at the moniker. "—precious evidence. Then we'll trade places by walking in a circle anticlockwise until we are able to collect our respective packages. Assuming we've both been true to our word, we can happily go our separate ways and never see each other again."
"Do you promise?" Purdey said sweetly, earning a grin from Gambit in spite of himself.
"This will only work if you don't try anything," Vanessa went on testily, annoyed and vaguely unnerved by the pair's easy humour in the face of bald threats. Gambit had an extra edge of jocularity when Purdey was around, and it shored him up in way he could tell Vanessa found off-putting. "There will be consequences if you try to attack me, Major. I will not hesitate to bring the house down on your lady's head. And you, Miss Bryde. Don't try anything smart. Stay put, or my sniper will start picking off your colleagues. Do you understand?"
Purdey crossed her arms, looking unimpressed. "Why shouldn't I? It's not a very difficult plan, is it?"
"Get on with it, then," Gambit said gruffly, tucking the package under his arm and reaching out to take the thin sheaf of papers from Purdey. "Purdey and I have better things to do than hang about with you all day."
Vanessa scowled. "You were always facetious, Major, but you appear to have gotten worse with age."
"That's your opinion," Gambit said coyly, aiming a saucy wink at Purdey. "You should hear me on a good day."
"Oh, I don't know." Purdey's eyes were sparkling as she reached him and handed over her papers. "You've had your moments today." She rested a hand, ever-so-briefly, against his lapel, close to his heart, before she drifted over to the part of the warehouse floor Vanessa had directed her to. Gambit watched her go, eyes drawn to her as if by a magnetic force. Purdey took up her position, put her hands on her hips, and looked up at the package of explosives, as though watching a plane soar through the sky above her head. "Whenever you're ready. The humidity in here is wilting the fabric of my skirt." She rolled back her shoulders in that particular way of hers that told Gambit she meant business.
Gambit tore his eyes away from Purdey with difficulty, settled them reluctantly on Vanessa Thyme. "You heard the lady." He brandished both packages of papers. "Shall we?"
Vanessa still looked sour, and Gambit knew it wasn't just the jauntiness of their tones. Purdey had not only forced Vanessa into handing over the proof that could clear Gambit's name, but she'd also made the mercenary split her attention between the pair of them. Even with her explosive insurance policy, there was the distinct possibility that one of them would be able to pull some sort of stunt, edge a little closer to her, or generally do something that would lead to her downfall. That was all to the good, as far as Gambit was concerned. The only downside was that Gambit himself had to fight to not split his attention between Vanessa and Purdey, a task that was proving difficult with Purdey currently standing under a large package of explosives. But Purdey could look after herself. He knew that, had relied on it more times than he could count. He was going to have to do it again, and hope Purdey followed his lead. They knew Vanessa's plan now, and Gambit was improvising, possibly for the last time.
Vanessa started walking toward him, and Gambit switched into professional mode, shutting out his fears about Purdey, Vanessa, Steed, Larry's people, Larry himself. He matched Vanessa stride for stride, measuring the distance between them to try to gauge where, exactly, they'd wind up stopping. Vanessa was moving quicker than he was, but Gambit wasn't going to let her rush him, not now, when there was so much on the line.
Vanessa reached a spot that Gambit conceded appeared to be about a third of the original distance between them. She pulled an envelope from the inside pocket of her jacket, and set it, quite deliberately, on the floor, eyes never leaving him, other hand brandishing the detonator. Gambit mirrored her, putting both his package of the papers and Purdey's in a neat stack at his feet. They eyed one another, straightened up, tension ratcheted up as far as it could go. Behind him, Gambit could sense Purdey, thrumming with anticipation, waiting for the first opportunity to strike. Any opening. All Gambit had to do was give it to her.
"What now?" Gambit asked flatly, even though he knew very well what the plan was. But he wasn't going to give Vanessa the opportunity to call foul just because his nose had twitched in a way she found suspicious.
"Now we swap places," came the frigid reply.
"With you? All the money in the world couldn't make me take that deal." Gambit grinned, but there was no humour in it. "But if you're sick of life, I can help you with that."
"Just move, Major." Gambit had always been flippant, but Vanessa seemed to be finding him more so, partly due to circumstances—the odds were a little more even now that he wasn't in a cell—and partly because of Purdey, who was buoying his spirit no end. Regardless of the reason, getting under Vanessa's skin was always good.
By mutual assent, Gambit and Vanessa both stalked around one another, anti-clockwise in a semi-circle, their targets one another's precious cargo, lying exposed and vulnerable on the concrete floor. The change in position brought Gambit into a position where he could see Purdey once more, which was a blessed relief, as well as keep an eye on Vanessa. Purdey was watching the proceedings with hawklike vigilance, eyes bright and alert. Her hands were at her sides, but Gambit could tell by the placement of her feet that she'd subtly shifted to first position, ready for action. Briefly, her gaze flicked to him, and she met his eyes. Gambit's own orbs flickered slightly to the left, toward Vanessa, then down to the papers on the floor. Purdey nodded almost imperceptibly. Message received. Be ready.
Vanessa dropped into a crouch, and Gambit followed suit, gathering up the papers and flipping through them as he straightened up, though he was hardly looking at them, or knew what to look for. Unlike Purdey, he hadn't seen the report that accused him of high treason. A quick glance revealed the paper trail used to set up the fake bank accounts that were part of his so-called payoffs from Vanessa. But it didn't matter what was in there or how legitimate it was. Not now. Gambit had other plans for it.
"What is this?" he demanded, tone angry, eyes flashing with hostility. They weren't hard emotions to summon when he was facing Vanessa, even if the reason for his ire was manufactured.
Vanessa's head snapped up, expression genuinely confused. "What are you talking about, Major?"
"As if you don't know." Gambit held the papers aloft, striding purposefully toward Vanessa as fast as he could. He needed to close the distance between them as quickly as possible, as much as possible, before Vanessa recovered her composure. "You didn't keep your end of the bargain." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Purdey dart forward.
Vanessa was clearly confused, but always quick on the uptake. She swung the hand grasping the detonator up and around in front of her, the other hand still clutching the papers with an iron grip. "Back off, Major! Or I'll bring the house down on your lady's head."
"Guess again," Gambit shot back, nodding behind her, to where Purdey was closing the distance between them rapidly. He could tell Vanessa was reluctant to follow his gaze, too much of an old hand to fall for a trick as old as, "Look! Behind you!" But she had an equally well-honed sixth sense, and something must have prickled at the back of her neck that told her that Gambit's act wasn't all bluff. She twisted around just in time to catch Purdey's foot under her chin. She stumbled backward, dropping the papers, but maintaining an iron grip on the detonator. Gambit shoved the evidence into his breast pocket and took his cue, kicked the two packages off to the side, where they slid to the left, drifting apart as they went. Vanessa's cry of outrage was all the distraction he needed. Without warning, Gambit's hand snapped out with lightning speed, capturing Thyme's hand, the one holding the detonator, in a vicelike grip, other hand coming up in a deadly karate blow. Thyme reacted equally quickly, deflecting his blow, then clamping her other hand on top of Gambit's, restraining him from making any further attempt to wrest the device from her fingers. They stood there, locked together in a struggle that was notable for its near-absence of movement, their arms folded between another at the elbow, faces inches apart, expressions all grimace and gritted teeth, feet planted firmly on the concrete floor, unyielding and unwilling to give their opponent even an inch of ground. Gambit knew there was no way he could wrest the detonator away from Vanessa, not using brute force alone. She may not have been as strong as him, but she knew how to twist force to her advantage, knew how to manipulate it to keep him from gaining the upper hand. In the intimacy of close quarters, he could see the vein throbbing on her forehead from the effort, the sweat trickling down her temple beneath her hair, the blood vessels in the whites of her eyes. He used to look at her like this, in similarly close proximity, back when she held all the cards, but it was always when he was in pain or being threatened, him the vulnerable one, her in charge. No more. They were equals here, finally, several years and thousands of miles later, locked in the same defiant struggle but with the odds evened out. He wondered, as his hands began to go numb from the extreme pressure he was placing on them, if Thyme was thinking of how much their positions mirrored their past, if she was experiencing déjà vu. But it hardly mattered now. He was going to end this, one way or another. Now.
"Purdey, the papers," Gambit managed through gritted teeth, sweat beading on his forehead. He could sense Purdey's hesitation out of the corner of his eye, her desire to regain control over the documents rubbing up against the impulse to help him. But Vanessa wasn't going anywhere, her feet firmly planted to maintain her balance, staving off the prospect of landing a kick somewhere unpleasant on Gambit's body. Gambit was also caught in a stalemate, but that was all right. He'd resigned himself to the possibility that he might not be going anywhere at all.
Without warning, a shot rang out, somewhere outside the warehouse. Only Purdey and Gambit reacted, Gambit maintaining his grip out of sheer force of will. Vanessa's lips, drawn back from her teeth in a snarl, turned up at the ends in a smile. "I told you my man had your people in his sights," she hissed. "That'll be your Mr. Steed he's disposed of. I asked him to look for him first."
"Steed!" Purdey's alarm was evidenced from her voice alone, which was just as well because Gambit couldn't afford to look at her.
"Steed's been in the game too long to be taken out by one of your hired goons," Gambit spat, meaning to reassure Purdey as much as undermine Vanessa. He prayed his confidence wasn't misplaced. He'd never forgive himself if Steed had paid the price for this whole ordeal. "For all we know, he's already found your man and just finished him off."
"You'll see," Vanessa snarled. "If you live to get out of here."
"Purdey, get the papers!" Gambit repeated hoarsely. The longer this took, the more the potential casualties stacked up, and he didn't know how long he could keep Vanessa at bay. Mercifully, her rapid, echoing steps told him Purdey had obeyed this time. He gave her a moment to tuck them away in the waist of her skirt before issuing his next ultimatum. "Now get out of here. We need someone to warn them about the sniper and the explosives. And to get those papers out of here."
"And leave you?" Purdey sounded more outraged than afraid, which was all to the good. "Don't be ridiculous."
"You should listen to her, Major," Vanessa growled. "She might be the only one who can still save you from yourself." Without warning, she let go of Gambit's arm. Gambit reacted, meaning to finish the blow he'd intended to strike in the first place. But suddenly there was a glint of metal in Vanessa's hand, and then a sharp pain in his side.
"Gambit!" Purdey screamed, and Gambit looked dazedly down at his shirt and the rapidly blossoming patch of red appearing against the vivid white. He looked back up at Vanessa as if in slow motion, saw the bloodied knife in her hand, her smile of triumph. She'd done him in. Finally. She'd won their endless stalemate.
Or so she thought.
"Maybe I should have listened to her," he managed between lips that were suddenly dry and clumsy. "But so should you." The hand Gambit had wrapped around Vanessa's own, the one holding the detonator, shifted ever so slightly, and pushed the button.
"Are you mad?" Vanessa screamed, her words lost over the rumble of the explosion. "You've just killed your lady and yourself!"
Gambit released Vanessa's detonator hand, the device useless now. "She can run," he said icily, knocking the knife from Vanessa's hand with the last of his strength, then wrapping his arms around her in a tight bear hug. "You can't."
Vanessa opened and closed her mouth uncomprehendingly. "You bastard," she cried impotently, as pieces of the roof and walls started to rain down around them. Gambit proceeded to squeeze, hard enough to keep her from getting away. It didn't matter if she killed him now. All that mattered was Purdey getting away, with the papers, before the roof caved in. He braced himself for a struggle to the death.
Vanessa's eyes suddenly rolled back in her head.
Gambit frowned uncomprehendingly as Vanessa sagged backward in his arms. Vanessa had never struck him as the fainting kind, regardless of her other faults. And he didn't think he'd squeezed her that hard. But when he looked up, he was face-to-face with Purdey, who was just tossing aside a very large piece of rock.
"For once," she said curtly, brushing ceiling dust-coated blonde hair from her eyes, "I agree with that Thyme woman."
Gambit released Vanessa's dead weight, watched her tumble to the ground. "Is she-?"
"Oh, she's just unconscious, I expect," Purdey said unconcernedly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pressing a hand to his wounded side. "Now be quiet. We need to get out of here."
Gambit could feel his strength fading. "I'll slow you down. Go on without me."
"Oh, do shut it," Purdey exclaimed in exasperation, dragging him along. "I don't have the time or the patience to argue with you, and I'm not leaving you behind. So hurry up. I'll shout at you later."
"I'm looking forward to it," Gambit rasped automatically, half-dazed, feet stumbling gracelessly alongside Purdey as the building came crashing down around them. Gambit put his legs to work to try to follow her as best he could and powered ahead, but his speed was hampered by the need to zigzag to avoid the chunks of concrete and wood raining down from above. The warehouse was suddenly an obstacle course, with the obstacles appearing without warning. Gambit found himself attempting the impossible task of trying to keep one eye on the ceiling and the other on the floor ahead of him, trying to save himself from tripping or being crushed. Purdey was steering them through the melee, a task that was becoming increasingly difficult as the floor was becoming littered with more and more debris, the structural integrity of the warehouse rapidly deteriorating. Gambit knew the chances of them both making it out alive were fading fast, stab wound aside. He was painfully aware that their luck would only last so long. Maybe, maybe, if Purdey didn't have to drag him along, handicapping her usual dancer's agility, or if he'd been up to full strength, not rapidly leaking his life force onto the warehouse floor, they'd have had a chance. But Gambit's dexterity had dissolved into the slow and clumsy movements of an injured man. He wondered idly, and without fear, how serious the stab wound as, if it had hit anything vital. It was bleeding like the proverbial stuck pig, but he knew from long experience that blood loss didn't necessarily equate with major damage. The trick was getting help before one lost too much blood, at which point it didn't matter how many vital organs had been spared. He didn't want to die by any means, but he definitely didn't want Purdey to die because of him, because she'd lost her own chance to escape by trying to save him. But Purdey would brook no argument, he knew, which was why he wasn't bothering to waste his waning strength on persisting on making one. He blinked hard and tried to focus on the warehouse door in the distance—salvation. It seemed to stay stubbornly far away no matter how far their legs carried them, but the zigging and zagging to avoid the falling detritus was slowing them down a lot, more than they could afford.
Without warning, a second and third explosion erupted simultaneously to his right and left. Gambit's head snapped to his left just in time to see the wall of the warehouse explode outwards in a rush of broken pieces sailing toward them at an alarming rate. Despite his dulled reflexes, Gambit reacted to a large chunk of rock descending from the heavens out of the corner of his eye. "Look out!" he cried hoarsely in warning, even as he threw himself to the side, yanking Purdey with him. They hit the ground hard, Gambit's injured side protesting loudly as they made impact. Gambit lay there, panting, sore, exhausted by the whole ordeal. Purdey was above him in a flash, pulling urgently on his shoulders, trying to get him to sit up. "I'm slowing you down," Gambit wheezed again, lungs full of plaster dust, even as Purdey pulled him upright. "I won't make it the rest of the way. You can."
"Negative thinking, Gambit," Purdey grunted, hand pressed to his side, even as she hefted him into a sitting position. "All we have to do is make it a little farther."
"A little farther?" Gambit muttered sceptically, as Purdey rearranged him onto his hands and knees. "You make it sound so easy."
"It is easy," Purdey hissed with exertion, throwing his arm across her shoulders and straining with her powerful legs to heave him upright. "If you have the right attitude."
Gambit laughed as Purdey eased him to his feet. "I've never noticed that that does much good with blood loss."
"That's because you've always been a negative thinker."
Gambit swayed unsteadily to his feet, eyed Purdey seriously. "Purdey, this stab wound, it might be bad."
Purdey shook her head, turning his toward the door. "First things first. Anyway, it's not as if you've never sprung a leak before." She smiled tightly. "Come on." She started urging them forward once more, the warehouse door beckoning them.
For a moment, Gambit thought they might make it, in spite of the dark thoughts swirling through his mind. The worst of the explosions seemed to be over, the building resettling itself on its damaged frame. He was actually starting to think his stab wound would have a chance to be first priority after all.
He should have known that Purdey's positive thinking could only work so many miracles. They were picking their way through the chaos by hugging the wall, where less debris impeded their progress. Their closeness to the structure warned him via the sudden, ominous groan above their heads. Purdey heard it too, and they threw themselves sideways as a large piece of concrete dislodged itself and landed just where they'd been a moment before. Sprawled on the ground, they rolled over just in time to see a large, heavy beam detach itself from the ceiling and begin a slow-motion tumble toward them. There was no way either of them, not even the relatively unscathed Purdey, could get out of the way in time. Gambit acted on instinct, using the last of his strength to roll himself over and onto Purdey, shielding her body with his own.
Purdey realised what he was doing a fraction of a second too late. "Mike Gambit!" she exclaimed, wrapping her hands around to protect the back of his skull, for all the good it might do. Then there was a crash, and everything went black.