Title: Whatever Happened to Bellhound and Dancer?

Chapter: 1

Author: DianeB

Rating: G (K)

Characters: Emma Peel, John Steed

Summary: Emma goes to the dogs. Steed is tied up.

Author's Note: I've added a bit of (artfully alliterated) narrative to an original 1967 The Avengers episode from S5, "The £50,000 Breakfast," wherein the coda has Steed and Mrs. Peel in Steed's flat with the two Borzois from the bad guys' headquarters. Not a 'ship story (though anyone who watched even a single episode would find it hard to believe they weren't, uh, you know, "friends with benefits.") The dialogue in this chapter, up to Steed's exclamation, comes directly from the episode. Written April, 2021. Forgive my "Americanisms."

Disclaimer: I claim no rights to anything about the original The Avengers. Back then, (that is, when dinosaurs still roamed the earth), I just adored Steed and Mrs. Peel, and I'm tickled to have come up with my first little fic for the fandom!

oOo oOo oOo

After her able ambush of Miss Pegram and the subsequent arrest of Pegram, Glover, and Sir James, Emma couldn't stop thinking about the dogs. It took a while to persuade Steed to let her go back for them, but he eventually did. And now here they were in his flat, she on her knees on the rug in front of Steed's couch, sandwiched between two stellar sighthounds – something she viewed as not at all a bad thing – engaged in the same conversation they had had twice already, not counting the one after the police had come and taken away the trio of stock market criminals and murderers.

"There they were," Emma said, making doe eyes at Steed, "all alone. Completely abandoned. Well, we couldn't just leave them there, could we?"

Steed, of course, was sticking to his guns. "Couldn't we?"

Even though she had no idea what her next step would actually be, there was no way she was going to admit that to Steed. "Well, I'll think of something."

He was relentlessly unwavering. "Will you?"

Going for humor, if not straightforward silliness, she said, "How about a pair of bath mats? His and hers?" Without giving him a chance to retort, she switched gears to distract him, keeping doe-eyed, and snuggling against Bellhound. "I bought you a present."

That worked a treat, as she knew it would. He smiled broadly, and eagerly reached for the slim wrapped box. "That's very generous of you, Mrs. Peel."

As he began to open the package, she went for another change of subject, mainly because she really was puzzled. "One thing still puzzles me. That voice on Litoff's intercom…"

"Glover?"

That answered that. "Some butler."

Steed chuckled. "He comes from an old theatrical family." By this time, he had the wrapping off and was shaking open the lid. "Very good at imitations, bird…" Now he held up a tie and was giving it a profoundly perplexed look. "…impressions."

She faked a hurt expression, wrapping her arms around both dogs. "Well, don't you like it? I bought it especially for you."

He leaned toward her and exclaimed, "Mrs. Peel, I'm an Englishman, and, therefore, a dog lover. But I prefer not to have dogs either in my domain or…upon my necktie!"

And now he held up the tie she knew would horrify him, and it had. It wasn't the material, which was a fine Italian silk, but the color and pattern: Eye-searing chartreuse, with a caricature of what could have been a Dalmatian. (She'd hoped for a Borzoi, but this was all they had in the way of dogs at the tie boutique.)

She laughed aloud this time. "I'm sorry, Steed. I just couldn't resist. And don't worry, I'm taking Bellhound and Dancer back to my flat and making some calls."

"To Pedigree Kennels, I presume?"

"Yes, that'll be my first call. You wouldn't happen to know of any Borzoi rescues in London, would you?"

"I'm proud to say I do not," he said, standing up, tie in hand, clearly with the intention of ushering her and her new furry friends to the door. "But I suspect they'll be able to help you at Pedigree. In the meantime, Mrs. Peel, is there anything else I can do for you?"

Considering they had come in his Bentley, there was no need to answer his question with anything more than a raised eyebrow.

He sighed in resignation and followed her and the dogs out the door.

End Chapter 1.