Merry Christmas, Mr. Gambit
by J. Ferguson a.k.a. Timeless A-Peel
Beta-reading by rabidsamfan (with thanks)
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, and this story is for entertainment purposes only.
Timeline: Fifth in a series. Takes place on December 24, 1976, so well after the end of the first season. It is strongly recommended, but not essential, that you go back and read the previous stories in the arc, Aftermath, Dance With Me, and The Anniversary (which has been revised and relaunched, so you may want to give that a look first).
Author's Note: This story is the oldest one I'll ever publish, written in December, 2005, the week before Christmas, and it hasn't really changed much since. It's fluff, quite obviously, but warm, fuzzy fluff, and I have a special place in my heart for this one. I think I got the atmosphere of the season right. I realise that it's September and hardly the most festive time of year, but this is next in the series, and it needed to be posted before going on to the next piece, which will be infinitely longer and hopefully will last me until I have more time to write/edit again. This one's very short, and thus won't last many chapters. There was no arc when I wrote it, so I've essentially built up the rest of the series around it. Perhaps my writing style has changed. Perhaps not. Either way, I hope you enjoy it.
For more information about the series, please see my profile.
Purdey pulled into Steed's driveway, tyres spitting gravel as her car raced toward the house. The senior agent had obviously had someone plow for the occasion. The guests couldn't be expected to wade through snow.
Coming to a stop, she alighted, gathered up her packages, and made her way to the door. Steed opened it before she reached the step, and beamed at her.
"Purdey, my dear. It's so kind of you to assist me in my hour of need," he greeted her congenially, the special brand of Steed exuberance cranked on full.
"You're welcome, Steed, but could you give me a hand first?" Purdey queried, her arms overflowing with packages that she was desperately attempting to balance.
"Of course. Highly inconsiderate of me," Steed apologized, relieving her of some of the burden. Turning to enter the house, he called, "Come inside and you can start with the decorating." Purdey followed.
"Gambit will be along later, I imagine," he mused, setting the packages beneath the tree. Purdey followed suit.
"Yes. Much later. As in after the party has started, and after all the work's been done." She straightened out, smoothing her plain black skirt. "Though I can't imagine what he would be doing for all that time." She paused, as though considering the options. Knowing Gambit… "Perhaps it's better I don't know," she said wryly.
"Oh, it's not what you think," Steed assured her. "He'll be at the Ministry accepting some overseas assignment for the holidays. He did the same thing last year." He paused, considering the living room. "I think we'll have garland over the doorway."
Purdey wasn't listening. "But doesn't he spend time with his family?"
"He doesn't appear to. I don't pry. The garland's over there. I'll put on some festive music." Purdey nodded her approval faintly with a half-hearted smile. Inside, she was wondering about Mike. He obviously didn't feel as though he had any reason to hang about around the holidays. Oddly enough, that hurt her. She tried to shrug the sentiment off, but didn't quite succeed. Even after all they'd been through together this year, he didn't even want to stick about for her sake. A selfish thought, she rebuked herself. She was going to her mother's. She wouldn't be around to see him anyway. That made her feel even worse. Between her plans, and Steed's, she hadn't considered where that would leave Gambit for the next two weeks. No wonder he was on edge. All those quips about being lonesome had some merit after all. She knew she should have bought him that dog! She briefly considered inviting him along to her mother's, but rejected the idea immediately. Who knew what the man would say after a few of those infamous spiked eggnogs her family so enjoyed? Plus, with her mother's newfound enthusiasm for weddings, she could easily see herself waking up the next morning after a celebrating a bit too much to find that she had unwittingly become Mrs. Michael Gambit, with her mother looking rather pleased with herself. No, it was too risky. She'd probably like him, and that was dangerous.
But as she picked up the garland and began to decorate, she couldn't help but feel a little melancholy, for her partner and herself, despite the cheerful music in the background.
Whilst Purdey and Steed were decking the halls, Gambit was being briefed by a rather attractive Ministry operative named Charlotte, about whom Purdey would likely have something snide to say.
"It's New York," she was saying. "The Americans have been wanting someone sent over for awhile now. Just a few things that need clearing up in person. It's only a few days, and they'll be tickled to have someone from Steed's band. He's got quite the reputation over there, you know." Her eyes sparkled. "Ever since that liaison assignment with Mrs. Peel."
Gambit smiled. "I read the file. August '66, wasn't it?"
She nodded. "They were terribly disappointed when she left."
"I've a feeling a lot of people were, including the ones that enrolled after her time. How long should it take?"
"New York? Oh, a few days. Likely a good bit of downtime. See the sights."
"Perfect."
"I can get you a flight out on the 26th."
"Nothing earlier?"
"There is one. Tonight, around 11. Might infringe on that party of yours."
Gambit checked his watch. Steed's party began at seven. If he were there by 7:30, as planned, then he could get a good two hours in, and still have plenty of time to get to the airport.
"It'll be all right," he assured, regarding Charlotte coolly. "Can you make the arrangements?"
"Right away," she offered, "but why you'd want to leave on Christmas Eve…" Gambit glanced at her and she trailed off. Something about his eyes told her the sudden flight wouldn't mean much to him.
"Well, if you'll follow me, we'll get you set up," she said quietly, leading him down the hall.
Purdey checked the clock. 7:30. The party had already been going for half an hour, and Gambit had yet to arrive. She tried to push him from her mind and concentrate on the story General Peterson was recounting to the small group clustered around. After five minutes, she gave up and casually broke away. No point in standing there daydreaming. Might as well keep serving the champagne.
She was clad in a red, knee-length, off-the-shoulder party dress. There was a red sash-belt around her waist that was tied in a bow at her right hip. She had brought it with her and changed at Steed's after the decorating had been concluded. She sighed. She was embarrassed to admit that she'd been lost for a bit while upstairs. Who knew this house had so many rooms?
The party's host passed her, and Purdey set down her tray and took his arm. Steed turned his head to beam at her.
"Purdey, my dear. Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked cheerily.
"Well, everything's been lovely so far, but Mike warned me that it may not stay that way," Purdey replied, with the unspoken question in her voice. Her host turned mock serious.
"And he was right to do so. You never know when things might become, ah, a little too festive. But I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself regardless."
"I'm sure," Purdey agreed, then knitted her brows in puzzlement. "But where is Mike? He should be here by now." She glanced about the room.
Steed was unconcerned. "I'm sure he'll be here soon. Gambit has never been one to pass up one of my parties. Especially when there's champagne to be had, and such a good year, too." Steed picked up a glass and sampled the vintage, glancing up just in time to see Gambit step in from the cold and hang up his coat. Steed gave his companion a charming smile. "Right on cue," he added as Mike approached them.
"Steed!" Gambit greeted cheerily as he approached, eyes locked on Purdey. His gaze hovered over the bow as he continued. "How did you know? Just what I've always wanted."
Steed followed his colleague's gaze and chuckled. "Not mine to give, I'm afraid, but the consolation prize is over on the table." He spotted some other guests and started to move away. "Help yourself. I'll see you later." He left Gambit alone with his "gift," which was now fixing him with a reproving glare.
"In your dreams, Gambit," she hissed, as she turned to refill her champagne flute.
"You may depend on it," Gambit said quietly, also helping himself to some of the bubbly. Purdey's eyebrows shot up. Mike gave her one of his grins.
"Well, what did you expect? Sugarplums?" he quipped, taking a short sip. Purdey chose not to answer.
"You're late," she commented as casually a possible.
"I was busy."
"I know. Find a nice little assignment in Paris for the holidays?" she asked, with a touch more emotion than she intended. Gambit must have noticed because his gaze shifted from the party to her rather quickly, the way it would when he was summing up his chances against the opposition in a fight.
"Steed told you about my little Christmas tradition, did he?" he murmured. "I didn't think you'd care."
"I don't," Purdey objected hastily. Gambit raised an eyebrow.
"Don't you?" He sipped the champagne again.
"Well, what do you think?" Purdey snapped, hoping to buy some time to rein in her emotions.
"I think you're a terrible liar after three glasses of champagne," he said knowingly. He watched her expression change from panic to mild embarrassment. "I also think you look absolutely stunning." He leaned back to watch his words take effect.
She stared at him a moment, her lips slightly parted, with a faint blush on her cheeks. Could he really read her that well? And it had been four glasses—she'd had one earlier during the decorating, when thoughts of him had kept flitting through her head. Then she pulled herself together and managed to answer him.
"Be that as it may, I think it's sad you don't stay in the same time zone for Christmas. There must be someone for you to spend time with. Family? Friends?"
"I've seen all the family I care to, and, as for friends, I'm seeing Steed and you this instant." He didn't add that a lot of them had met their end that year. Including Spence. But he didn't betray those thoughts.
Another casual sip, Purdey observed. Damn him. She was feeling guiltier than ever. Gambit wasn't close to many people—some of them had died in the past 12 months—and he had made an effort to see all of them. And then everyone would go on to their own celebrations, and he was left on his own. Her guilt manifested itself in annoyance.
"In that case, where do you plan on going?"
"New York. At eleven this evening. I'll be leaving a bit before that." He watched Purdey's blue eyes blink in surprise. She had beautiful eyes, he thought, but his musings were cut short by her voice.
"You're leaving tonight?" she exclaimed in disbelief. "On Christmas Eve?" Despite his earlier explanation, she couldn't comprehend how he could entertain such a notion. Leaving on today of all days? Gambit could sense this, and he set his glass down so he could put his hands on her shoulders.
"Look, Purdey. This holiday means different things to different people. For you it obviously means family and warmth, and I envy you for it. But it's never been that way for me, and I've found my own way of coping with it. You're going to have to understand that."
"But—"
"Enjoy yourself at your mother's. That's all I ask."
She nodded slightly, fighting a sudden urge to cry, her blonde hair shining in the light. "Fine," she managed. "Just don't cause an international incident." She grinned in triumph at having the last word, but Gambit was ready for it.
"I was right. Too many glasses. You'd never talk like that if you weren't sloshed." He saw the retort coming, and gave her a quick "Cheers," before hurrying off in the direction of an attractive redhead. Purdey watched him, eyes burning into his back. How could he go from sympathetic to infuriating in such a short time? She downed the champagne and poured herself another. So much for staying alert.