In 26
Disclaimer: I don't own The New Avengers, nor the characters of Mike Gambit, Purdey, and John Steed. They're the property of The Avengers (Film and TV) Enterprises. This story is written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended.
House of Cards
Purdey risked looking away from the road and checked on Gambit out of the corner of her eye, paying particular attention to the way he pressed his hand to his wounded side. It was the first injury of any significance either her or her colleagues had accrued in their relatively short time together in the field. Although, strictly speaking, Gambit's injury hadn't happened in the field, wasn't the result of a dangerous encounter with a double agent or a harrowing high-speed chase. It had been inflicted in the heart of their very organisation, their homebase, at the hands of someone they'd both thought of as a friend, which only served to make it worse than any sneak attack in a dark alley.
Not that it was a grievous wound. Kendrick had cleaned and examined it thoroughly, and come to the conclusion that nothing vital had been hit, not much blood had been lost, and Gambit would recover nicely as long as he kept the wound clean and changed the dressings regularly. Purdey knew from both the Ministry's rumour mill, and Steed and Gambit themselves, that both her partners had accrued their fair share of damage in the line of duty. Gambit himself had survived being shot three times the year before whilst scrambling over the Berlin Wall. A little light stabbing was a walk in the park in comparison.
But those bullets had been fired by faceless enemies in the dark. Spence wasn't a stranger, wasn't even a colleague who could barely be considered an acquaintance, the type one nodded to in the break room but otherwise more or less ignored. Spence was a friend, one of the boys, always up for a drink or a friendly bout. Or a squash game. Purdey remembered Gambit's squash bag still sitting where he'd left it, not far from the body lying in a pool of drying blood. She also remembered the matey way Gambit and Spence had tossed it back and forth just minutes before, exchanging in the sort of good-humoured banter that only came through long acquaintance. Purdey had also become quite friendly with her instructor during her training, but she couldn't hold a candle to Gambit's history with him.
Gambit's absent clutching at his wound likely had little to do with pain. The anaesthetic Kendrick had administered before stitching up the wound would still be working its magic at this stage, Purdey knew. The way Gambit's fingers idly traced the length of the bandage beneath his shirt looked more like the man's repeated attempts to convince himself that the wound was real, that the events that had unfolded over the past hour had, in fact, happened. The ghastly pallor of his complexion and the blank look in his eyes told her that he was still in shock. Purdey couldn't blame him. She hardly believed it herself, and she'd only known Spence just over a year.
"How long did you know him?" She had been thinking the question, but it came out unbidden.
Gambit's head turned very slowly, and he regarded her as if through a fog. "What?"
"Spence." Purdey changed gear and tried not to drift off the road while risking a glance at Gambit. "I know you didn't meet him at the Ministry."
"No," Gambit confirmed, closing his eyes and letting his head fall heavily back against his headrest. "I didn't."
"How did you meet him, then?" At some level, Purdey knew this line of questioning might be intrusive, but she reasoned it was good for him to talk about it. Better than sitting there brooding. And she couldn't help but admit she was a little curious about Gambit's past.
"He was my first karate teacher," Gambit said softly, eyes remaining stubbornly closed. "I met him fifteen, sixteen years ago, when I decided I wanted to learn about the martial arts. He was a good teacher, even back then." There was a pause, and then Gambit added, "And a good friend."
Purdey bit her lip. "Yes, I suppose he was," she said quietly, feeling a bit like a heel for prying. Then another thought occurred to her. "But the good thing about friends is that you can always make new ones."
Gambit eased open one lid, blue-green eye bright against his pallor, and regarded her hopefully. "Yeah?"
"Yes," Purdey confirmed, treating him to a warm smile. "Now try to rest. We won't be at David Miller's for another half hour."