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.
Cat Amongst the Pigeons
"Well, that was a close one," Gambit opined to Purdey, leaning back against Zarcardi's desk just as Steed finished using the now-late bird charmer's phone to call the Ministry's clean-up crew. The task had been rather more difficult than one might have otherwise expected, due to nigh-on constant interruptions courtesy of two dozen restless cats, who insisted on rubbing up against the legs of everyone in the vicinity. That was when they weren't meowing irritably at their new keepers to be fed. The killer birds they'd been enlisted to catch by Gambit and Steed had since flown—literally. Without Zacardi's siren song to direct them, they'd gone back to being relatively innocuous balls of feathers. Some had escaped through open windows, while others were roosting in the roof or alighting on top of tall pieces of furniture, all outside the reach of their furry antagonists. "Zarcardi would have done the same thing to you, Purdey, as he did to poor old Turner, or worse," Gambit went on, pulling his feet back as a grey tom sauntered past and left a long trail of silver hair on the cuffs of his trousers. He pressed his lips into a thin line as he noted just how much cat hair he'd picked up on the whole of his body. His dry cleaner was going to have, well, kittens. "Although I'm starting to think the cure is worse than the disease. Charlie the sparrow might be capable of being put under the influence, but at least he doesn't play merry hell with my wardrobe."
"Not from below, perhaps," Steed contradicted, gently encouraging a tabby to stop using the phone line as a makeshift cat toy with one elegant Chelsea boot. "But they can be rather dangerous from above, even when they aren't tearing people to pieces." He looked meaningfully at Gambit. "They're especially hard on epaulettes."
Gambit looked heavenward with trepidation. "How long until the clean-up crew gets here? The menagerie is starting to lose its charm."
"You might have thought of that before you cleared out the local pet shop," Purdey pointed out, bending to pick up a fluffy white feline that had been circling at her feet. "And added to this particular animal kingdom."
"You're lucky Steed and I had the same idea," Gambit defended, watching Purdey make kissing noises to the cat with a modicum of jealousy. "Zacardi had an army of birds here. We needed double the reinforcements."
"Yes, your telepathy with Steed has been particularly strong of late," Purdey said to the cat. "Like earlier this afternoon, for example. When you two sauntered off to see Professor Waterlow, and left the little woman at home."
Gambit blanched, risked a look at Steed, but, rather discomfitingly, the senior agent actually seemed rather perturbed by Purdey's words. "Purdey, we didn't—" he began, in sputtering defence.
"You mean you didn't leave me behind at Steed's with the rather patronising instructions to batten the hatches and feed the dogs?" Purdey asked sweetly. She had the cat's head tucked beneath her chin, and the pair of them were wearing matching accusatory expressions aimed directly at the two men. "I'm sure you would have also asked me to do a little light sweeping up and whip up a nice roast for dinner, if you hadn't been otherwise occupied."
"In our defence," Steed tried, earning a disgruntled meow from the tabby as he twitched the telephone cord out of its grasp once more, "if we hadn't gone to see Waterlow, we never would have found our way here in time to save you."
"If you hadn't left me behind, I wouldn't have been forced to follow up on the bird tag on my own," Purdey countered, scratching the cat behind the ear. "And if I hadn't been on my own, I might not have been captured." She turned the cat around and addressed it. "Mightn't I?"
"Ah," Steed said.
"Er," Gambit added.
"Meow," said the cat.
"I think," Purdey said after a moment, "that, all things considered, it's only fair that you two stay on and wait for the clean-up crew, while I go home and have a long, luxurious soak in the bath."
"You're leaving? What about the cats?" Gambit wanted to know, sounding slightly desperate.
Purdey gave him a look. "What about them?"
"Well, we'll have to round them all up again," Gambit said weakly. "You seem to have more of a knack with them than I do."
Purdey looked unimpressed. "Gambit, they're cats, not wild horses. Just pick them up and put them back in the basket."
Gambit's nose wrinkled. "I've always been more of a dog person."
"Really? From the looks of your attire, they seem to love you," Purdey teased, nodding at Gambit's hair-covered suit. "Anyway, if you can't catch them, Steed will."
"I'll certainly do my best," Steed agreed, frowning slightly as the feline left off playing with the telephone cord and attempted to sharpen its claws on his Chelsea boots. "Although they are rather a handful."
"Nonsense, you just have to be firm with them." She handed the cat over to Gambit, who took it with mild reluctance. "Start with him," she said brightly. "He has your eyes."
"Thanks," Gambit muttered, as the cat proceeded to initiate a brooding staring contest.
"I'll see you both later, then," Purdey said nonchalantly, sauntering gracefully toward the door. "They shouldn't give you any trouble. After all, it's only herding cats."