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 came barreling out of McKay's office, so blinded by her ire that she nearly bowled over Steed, who was approaching from the opposite direction, in the process. It took a moment for both parties to right themselves and register the identity of their respective co-collisionees, but when they had, Purdey, as usual, was the first off the mark. "Where on earth have you been?" she demanded, in uncharacteristic and unfettered hostility toward her friend and colleague. "McKay's just suspended us from active duty until we can be put on trial."

"More like arbitration," Gambit corrected belatedly, emerging from McKay's office and earning a glare from Purdey for his tardiness, as though spending even an extra second in McKay's company constituted an unforgiveable betrayal of loyalty. "He's going to put our fates in the hands of a committee of higher ups." He slid his hands casually into his pockets, and Steed couldn't help but notice that he was much more sanguine about their situation than Purdey, a state of affairs that, knowing them as Steed did, failed to elicit much surprise, but did make his chest swell in an unexpected burst of paternal pride. Steed wondered if the whole ordeal had affected him more than even he realised, and hoped that Purdey would construe any trace of surprise on his features as a reaction to McKay's verdict. He doubted she'd feel kindly about him suddenly developing fatherly, borderline-sentimental feelings toward Gambit in a moment of crisis that clearly demanded, at least in her view, a healthy dose of bloodlust. "Until then, we're on the naughty list," Gambit carried on, oblivious to Steed's paternal leanings. "Do not pass go."

"Do not collect 200 pounds," Purdey finished darkly, big blue eyes churning with the rage of a thousand storms.

"No ID, no gun," Gambit rhymed off, "and no hanging about the place, with or without supervision."

"He even told us that we can't have contact with anyone who works here," Purdey said sourly. "That means we can't even talk to you."

"I somehow suspect that Tommy has better things to do with his time than regulate every minute of my social calendar," Steed asserted mildly. "But of all the possible courses of action I thought he might take, I hadn't quite anticipated this one in particular."

"The fact that he outwitted even you isn't very helpful-or reassuring," Purdey huffed, her usual admiring and favourable opinion of Steed most definitely in absentia. "Anyway, where were you? We could have used some reinforcements while we were being court-martialled—"

"Suspended," Gambit put in quietly.

"It felt like a court-martialling," Purdey shot back, positively quivering with pent-up rage. "Where were you, Steed? I know that McKay might not have listened to you, or even let you come into his office while we were being humiliated, but at least we would have had some back-up, even if it was only by proxy."

"You did have my support by proxy, as it happens," Steed pointed out reasonably. "Given that I wasn't present at the meeting due to being unavoidably detained, it was the only way that I could be supportive, though I assure you that wherever I am, you always have my unwavering backing."

"Unavoidably detained?" Gambit tilted his head inquisitively, not annoyed at Steed's absence, as Purdey was, but intrigued. "Where were you, exactly?"

"Seeing to another, rather important matter that required my attention," Steed replied vaguely, but with just a hint of mischief twinkling in his grey eyes.

"More important than us?" Purdey pressed, incredulous, clearly unable to comprehend how such a thing could be true.

"Not more important than. Rather, equivalent to," Steed qualified. "I've a feeling that Tommy arranged things just so, to ensure that I would be occupied during your disciplinary proceedings. He was quite adamant that the pair of you face the music on your own, but he might have felt the need to take, ah, precautions, lest I develop the urge to put my oar in and try to assist you." He smiled ironically at Gambit. "He knows me rather well, does old Tommy."

"He's not the only one," Gambit murmured, grinning back. "But you still haven't told us where you were."

"It doesn't matter where he was!" Purdey cried, looking from one man to the other in barely contained exasperation. "Not anymore. All that matters is that he wasn't there. And why on earth are you two grinning? This isn't funny!"

"No," Steed agreed, touching her elbow while Gambit slipped his hand into the crook of her other arm. "But it's also not the end of the world, though I concede it may feel that way at the moment." Purdey opened her mouth to interject, but Steed raised a hand. "I understand the desire to fight, especially when one feels that one has been treated wrongly. But sometimes the wiser course of action is to retreat, regroup, and plan one's next move, even though it might feel rather too much like admitting defeat for one's liking." Purdey looked pleadingly at Gambit, but he only nodded in affirmation of Steed's words.

"He's right, Purdey-girl. If we yell and scream and stamp our feet now, it'll just give them more reason to dub us the irresponsible, selfish, reckless, and whatever the hell else Larry and all of his friends are calling us in their reports. And the last thing we want to give them just now is more ammunition. Right?"

Purdey looked plaintively up at him, and for a moment seemed about to argue. But just as in McKay's office, she saw the gentle persuasive look in his eyes, and felt the ire drain out of her. Between them, Gambit and Steed felt her almost sag with acceptance. "Oh, all right," she muttered, shaking blonde hair out of her eyes. "But we're not giving up. Right?"

"Right," Steed echoed, with all the warm, robust surety that only he could evoke.

"Definitely not," Gambit confirmed, treating her to a reassuring smile, and a little of the light returned to Purdey's eyes.

"Right," she said crisply. "Let's get this over with."

"Where to next?" Steed inquired, as Purdey squared her shoulders and recalibrated her mindset from battle-ready to cool detachment.

"Armoury," Gambit answered distractedly, eyes on Purdey, relishing the glorious sight of her pulling herself together and return to her usual magnificence.

"And then, once all of the paperwork is over with, lunch," Steed pronounced, blowing an invisible piece of lint from the top of his bowler. "Even suspended agents must keep their strength up."

"Especially suspended agents," Purdey said briskly. "We'd better get on with it then. If you're paying, then I expect a number of courses, rather than the paltry few provided by mean, mean, mean Gambit."

"I don't think I can be accused of being cheap where your appetite is concerned," Gambit drawled sceptically. "Broke, on the other hand…"

"Mike Gambit!" Purdey exclaimed, which set Steed laughing, and then Gambit, and finally Purdey herself. They made their way down the gossip-strewn Ministry corridors shoulder to shoulder and wreathed in smiles, leaving those in their wake, friend and foe alike, struggling to work out how three people who had just received such terrible, potentially life-altering news could be grinning like fools. Somehow, it was more effective than aloofness at encouraging everyone to just leave them the hell alone, and the world was all the better for it.

As the unreasonably happy trio rounded the corner of the corridor and drifted out of sight, off on their quest to unnerve the armoury, the accompanying low-level, near-constant murmuring died away, the objects of the murmurers' speculation no longer available to inspire comment. Resigned to having to return to their ordinary duties for the moment, the small groups of two or three dispersed, heading in different directions as they went about their business. The peace was temporary, however, and suddenly and unexpectedly shattered by the appearance of a new figure at the end of the corridor, striding confidently toward McKay's office doors. The occupants of the corridor were momentarily stunned into silence, but the moment the door closed behind the newcomer, the hall exploded in a hubbub of shocked voices, all gabbling some variation of, "Was that-?" "But it couldn't be." "Why is she-?" or "Do you think-?" All those questions were to remain unanswered for the time being, but several souls lurked indiscreetly outside McKay's office, pretending to peruse files that surely couldn't have been that interesting.

McKay looked up from squaring away Purdey and Gambit's reports as the figure inciting so much interest in the corridor appeared in his office. "Ah, very good of you to come," he greeted, indicating the chairs that Purdey and Gambit had refused earlier. "Please, have a seat."

The figure opted for the seat to McKay's left, and settled in with the confidence of someone who was comfortable virtually anywhere. "Did you have any problems signing in?" McKay asked conversationally.

"Only if you classify the security man gaping at me like a fish out of water as a problem," Emma Knight qualified, crossing her legs unconcernedly, skirt draping elegantly over them in the process.

McKay chuckled a little in understanding. "I imagine you did cause something of a stir on the way up. Purdey and Gambit will be glad to have someone else to act as fodder for the rumour mill for a change."

Emma laughed her enchanting laugh. "I'm sure they will."

"That's why I've asked you here, as it happens," McKay went on. "Because of this business with Purdey and Gambit. Or Gambit, really."

"I had worked that much out on my own," Emma admitted, lopsided smile in evidence. "Am I in trouble?" She didn't seem particularly alarmed at the prospect. "If you've any concerns, I am still covered by the Official Secrets Act."

"No, no, not in trouble," McKay said hurriedly, keen for her not to get the wrong idea. "But we did read your accounts of your exploits with Gambit with great interest."

Emma propped her chin in her hand. "I'm not surprised."

McKay regarded her infuriatingly enigmatic smile with a mixture of annoyance and mild unease, before averting his gaze in favour of picking up a letter opener on his desk. "I don't suppose you'd care to explain how you became acquainted with Gambit in the first place?"

"A lady is allowed some secrets," Emma said lightly. "And a social life. But he's a very fine agent. And man."

"Yes." McKay was eyeing her uncertainly, unsure of what to make of her last comment. "You are aware that he's also involved, shall we say, with his partner, Purdey?"

Emma's smile broadened. "I think Gambit has always been involved with Purdey," she suggested knowingly.

"Yes, well, be that as it may," McKay said with slight discomfort, coughing delicately. "I'm not here to ask you about your relationship with Gambit, but rather your propensity for carrying on the sort of work that you did for us so many years ago."

Emma tilted her head inquisitively. "Really?"

"Well, you left the espionage business a decade ago, seemingly for good," McKay went on, pressing the point of the letter opener into the tip of his index finger and twirling it contemplatively. "So to discover that you've been conducting your own operations comes as a something of a surprise, albeit a pleasant one."

"Aha," Emma said knowingly, catlike eyes full of dawning realisation. "Mr. McKay, are you asking me to return to the fold?"

"Is it something you'd consider?" McKay inquired, carefully sidestepping any commitment on his organization's behalf, but the way his eyes flicked up to meet hers betrayed his eagerness.

Emma tipped her head back in thought. "It's an interesting proposition."

"Only interesting?"

Emma's head levelled out, and her gaze with it. "I couldn't possibly return at my previous level of involvement. I can't abandon Knight Industries, not now, nor do I wish to. It's taken some time to integrate myself back into the company to the point that I'm able to play an active role. I let it run itself during my time with Steed, but I now find I'm enjoying it more than I ever have."

"That's understandable," McKay conceded with a nod, leaning back in his chair, tapping the letter opener against the palm of his hand. "But what if your involvement were to be scaled back in comparison to your previous role. A special consultant, perhaps? Brought in when your particular brand of expertise was required."

"And who," Emma elucidated, "would be responsible for bringing me in?"

McKay pretended to consider the question, but it was clear that that it had been anticipated—and answered—well in advance, with all of the appropriate approvals in place. "Well, given your history with Steed, he seems the obvious choice to act as your point of contact. He is the handler of a whole portfolio of agents, you know. You could be added to that list."

Emma's eyebrows climbed toward her hairline. "Do you think it's wise for me to be handled by Steed?" she inquired cheekily.

McKay's face reddened uncharacteristically, much to Emma's amusement. "You always worked well together," he defended, a little too strenuously, not meeting her eye. "I thought it would be ideal. Unless, of course, you and Steed are no longer on good terms."

"Oh, no, we've kept things friendly," Emma assured with a dazzling smile, conveniently omitting that she had worked with Steed during her involvement in the search for Purdey in the Brazilian jungle earlier that year. Officially, Gambit and Steed hadn't been in the Amazon, either, and just because she'd revealed rather a lot of her secret endeavours in her affidavit written on Gambit's behalf, she wasn't about to volunteer more than she needed to. She and Steed hadn't been in contact before that particular escapade, but their relationship had warmed considerably since then. There was no reason McKay had to know that, though.

McKay clearly recognised that there was something else lurking behind her words and smile, but knew it was futile to attempt to pursue it. "Does that mean you'd have no objection to being put 'on call', so to speak?"

"I suppose not," Emma allowed, although secretly the prospect of being back in the field thrilled her. She had longed for the excitement and danger of the game for years, but her own pride and stubborn nature had made her unable to ask to return after being the one to decisively sever her relationship with the Ministry—and Steed. Now that she was being pursued, she could accept without seeming overeager. "Would I be working with Steed, or just handled by him?"

McKay was blushing again, and cleared his throat gruffly. "I suspect if Steed thought you were needed, he would already have taken a personal interest in the case, so you would be working together in some capacity. Does that suit you?"

"Eminently." Emma sat back in her chair, satisfied. "I imagine if I'm working with Steed, I'll be working with Purdey and Gambit as well. But as I've worked with Gambit before, and Purdey and I have recently come to something of an understanding, I don't foresee any problems in our collaborating."

"Ah." McKay let the letter opener drop, point down, onto the desktop with an ominous 'clunk'. "Recent developments have dictated that that won't be possible."

Emma arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yes. An internal matter," McKay replied vaguely, setting the letter opener aside and treating her to a tight smile. "Nothing to concern yourself about, but it might mean that Steed will need to call on you more than anticipated. He may be…rather short-handed in the coming weeks."

"I see." Emma's frown was small but betrayed her concern. She looked down and to the side, digesting this intelligence.

"Still, nothing to concern you, as I said," McKay asserted, moving swiftly on. "This is cause for celebration, that is, if you've still no qualms about rejoining us."

Emma hesitated, and it was clear that the comment about Purdey and Gambit had shaken her somewhat, despite McKay's evasiveness and attempts to put on a brave face. In the end, however, she seemed to decide that discretion was the better part of valour. "Not at the moment."

"Excellent," McKay enthused, reaching across the desk to shake her hand. "We'll get started on the paperwork."

Emma took the hand and shook it, warm and firm. "I hope I'm able to be of assistance."

"Oh, I think we'll have no trouble putting your talents to good use," McKay said mysteriously, releasing her hand. "Should I inform Steed, or will you?"

"I think Steed has had enough excitement in recent weeks," Emma pronounced, brow still creased in spite of her smile. "I'll break the news somewhere a little less…conspicuous, if you don't mind."

"Not at all." McKay looked so pleased that she'd accepted that Emma suspected she could have asked to move into Windsor Castle and received his enthusiastic agreement. "Welcome back to the Ministry, Ms. Knight."

"Thank you." Emma sighed wistfully. "One always likes to feel wanted. Or needed."

For Dame Diana Rigg.

Needed, always.