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.

K is for Kill, Part 1: The Tiger Awakes

"I know. But you're still Mrs. Peel to me."

Emma felt herself melt internally at the unexpected wistful fondness of his words, a sensation amplified by the already overwhelming sense of nostalgic melancholy that had settled over her the moment she'd spotted the article in the paper. It was hardly a tearful profession of love, but it was a more intimate admission than she'd expected from Steed, especially over the phone, with Purdey or Gambit, or both, more than likely in the room, straining their ears to pick up on every intonation, decode every hidden meaning. Then again, she'd been the one who'd succumbed to sentimentality first, sighing about "long, happy memories" and therefore inviting him to open the Pandora's box that was their relationship and let out feelings that had laid dormant for the better part of a decade. No wonder he'd responded in kind.

"Good-bye, Steed." She rang off and returned the telephone's receiver to its cradle, took a deep, steadying breath. She didn't recall her equilibrium feeling quite so off-kilter at the mere sound of Steed's voice in all their time working together. She gave herself a shake. She wasn't even forty yet. She was much too young to start succumbing to the rose-tinted, treacly sentimentality of old age. She folded the newspaper with brisk, precise movements, concealing the article about the attack in France in the process. She'd confirmed Steed's hunch. Her part in the investigation was over. She had plenty to do that day, and didn't have time to get involved. She certainly didn't have time to drop everything and join him in France, nor did she want to. Definitely not. Not even a little bit.

Still, that didn't mean it wouldn't have been nice to be asked…

The phone rang, jolting her violently from her thoughts and nearly causing her to knock over her coffee cup in the process. She took another deep, calming breath and smiled wryly at her own jitteriness. Sentimentality was bad enough. She wasn't going to start succumbing to nerves as well. She let the phone ring once more before picking it up, reassured by the steadiness of both her hand and her voice as she brought the receiver to her ear. "Hello?"

"Emma?" The greeting would have told her that the caller wasn't Steed, if the voice hadn't already made it readily apparent. "Sorry to disappoint you. It's Mike."

"Why should I be disappointed?" Emma inquired, leaning back in her chair and feeling the tension leave her body. Perhaps she wasn't quite on the even keel she'd thought she was. "I'm happy to hear from you."

"Yeah, but not as happy as you'd be if I was Steed," Gambit replied knowingly. It sounded to Emma as if he was speaking out of the corner of his mouth, and she could imagine him huddled in one corner of the room with the receiver surreptitiously tucked against his chin, one eye on the door. "Don't deny it. As soon as you saw the article, you were expecting Steed's call. I wouldn't blame you for thinking that he'd ask you along for the ride."

Emma propped her elbow on the arm of her chair and leaned her head wearily against her thumb and forefinger. "I'm not sure if I should plead innocence or accuse you of being psychic."

Gambit chuckled. "I know the feeling. Purdey's always claiming she can read my mind. If she comes in here while I'm talking to you, she'll probably manage it." He turned serious. "Listen, I just wanted to tell you not to take it personally. It's harder to get amateurs on Ministry assignments than it used to be, and beyond that, I don't think Steed wants to presume."

Emma laughed in disbelief. "That would make a change."

"Yeah, well, he has changed. Not in a lot of ways, I'll grant you," Gambit acknowledged wryly. "But in some ways he has. Especially when it comes to people." Emma took a deep, cleansing breath through her nose and Gambit waited until she'd released it before continuing. "Listen, he's trying. He wants to find his way back to you. He just has to work out how and what the ground rules are. But in the meantime, try not to read anything into today."

"You're assuming that I was," Emma countered, but the chuckle on the other end of the line told her that Gambit had seen right through her. She cracked a knowing smile at her own silly pride rather than make further, futile protestations. "Thank you for the call, Mike. I appreciate it. You're a good friend."

"So are you, and it's my pleasure," Gambit said sincerely. "Now wish me luck. We're flying to France this afternoon, and I can't string two words together in Parisian."

Emma laughed melodically. "I'm sure you'll manage. Bon voyage, Mike."

"Now you're just showing off," Gambit quipped, and Emma could actually envisage his wink. "Bye, Emma. I'll talk to you soon."

"Bye, Mike," Emma returned, and, just as Gambit rang off, swore she could hear a voice that sounded suspiciously like Purdey say, "Who was that?" She returned the telephone to its cradle, sighed contentedly to herself, then turned her mind to her schedule for the day. "Right. What's next?"