Dirtier, part 16
Dec. 11th, 2008 08:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rabidsamfanHe looked at his shoes, knowing that he'd disappointed Purdey again and wondering why it bothered him so much. He liked her, and truth be told he wanted to trust her, as well. But she'd been there, when he'd woken up and she'd wanted to trick him into telling...
No. Wait. She'd had black hair, hadn't she? And a little scar across her eyebrow. He'd noticed it when she bent over the bed.
"Gambit. Mike!" Purdey sounded worried. He opened his eyes and looked at her eyebrows. They were perfect. "Are you dizzy? Do you need to sit down?"
"No. No..." he answered. "I was just... thinking of something." The memory was gone again, except for that glimpse of dark hair and the small scar. "Purdey," her name felt bare without the honorific, but right for her somehow. "Purdey, was there another girl?"
One of those perfect eyebrows canted upwards, amused. "There've been several," she said. "You'll have to be more specific."
"At the hospital. With black hair."
She had to think about it for a moment, he could see it in her eyes, but she nodded. "Two of the nurses. And a third, although I don't think she's young enough to qualify as a 'girl', at least not the kind you usually mean."
"Oh." He wasn't sure what to do about that. He didn't want to go back to the hospital if he could avoid it. But there was no way here and now to tell if Purdey were only pretending not to know which person he meant. No time for explanations either. He took a better grip on the crutches and looked around for Peter. "Which wall now?"
"Over here," Peter said, taking the ladder into the shade of a cherry tree and setting it up again. "I don't think you can jump over here -- you'd hit your head on a tree branch."
He looked up. "I don't think I can pull myself up by a branch either," he admitted. "The tree's not strong enough. Sure this is the only place to get over?"
"The other side's all roses except for here," Florrie contributed. "Let me get over first, though and I'll get Sam and the others to hurry up and come help."
"Good thought," said Purdey. "Here, I'll hold your bag. And, Gambit, once she's gone you can sit down on the ladder for a bit."
He nodded. "Probably a good idea. It's shady here, anyway."
Purdey waited until he'd managed to turn and lower himself to the ladder before she touched his cheek with the back of her fingers. "You feel a bit warm."
"You would too, if you'd tried jumping over a wall with one foot," he told her, the words coming out more sharply than he meant. After all, it wasn't like she was fussing at him as much as Aunt Mabel always did. But to his surprise, she only grinned.
"I expect I would," she conceded cheerfully. "If I was silly enough to try it in the first place." She leaned against the wall and began to rummage in Florrie's bag. "Ah, I thought so. She's put the cans on top of the bread."
He closed his eyes again, trying to remember something, anything, about Purdey from before the hospital. Something that would tell him if she were friend or foe. Something that would tell him why she'd kissed him, and whether it was her double-barrelled slingshot in his pocket. Double-barrelled slingshot? But it had been his own voice speaking, and he couldn't remember where he'd been or when -- all he was certain of was that he'd been cold and afraid. Cold, and afraid, but not alone. He thought about asking Purdey whether it was hers, but before he could decide what he'd do if she said no, he heard another voice behind him.
"Sorry to take so long," Steed's cheerfulness had an undertone of unmistakable urgency. "But we had to arrange for transportation."
***
Steed waited until Purdey and the boy who must be Peter got Gambit to his feet and the ladder out of the way before he boosted Tinpot over the wall and clambered over himself. Sam stayed on the rosegarden side, saying "You'll need me here to catch," when Steed glanced the question at him.
Steed nodded. On the whole he found himself approving of Sam Holmes. The ability to think ahead -- and act on those thoughts -- was rare enough in a just-turned-twelve-year old, judging from his memories of various nephews and nieces at that awkward age. Combined with the kind of mind that thoroughly enjoyed a puzzle to be solved, a discriminating ability to dance around inconvenient rules, and a quick eye for the problems and possibilities of a plan, and it was clear that Sam certainly had the kind of potential that should probably be encouraged to stay on the less shady side of the law. Although in Steed's opinion chances were slim the boy would join the ranks of Diabolical Masterminds -- not with that idealistic streak -- which was just as well, since by the time Sam reached his growth Steed would definitely be slowing down.
It had been Sam who had convinced Steed that Gambit wouldn't be able to rest until he'd had the chance to test the memories which were bothering him. Well, that and the realization that the Jaguar was under observation. They'd tested whether the motorcyclist would follow them or stay with the car by going around a corner -- Steed hadn't even had to explain why, at least not to Sam -- and when it was clear that the man was committed to following the Jag, Sam had broached his idea about using the river to get Gambit clear. Steed had revised it to include the other children, and meeting Sam's father. Then he'd bought some fish and chips for the journey, since everyone was going to miss having their tea, and they needed an excuse for having gone out of sight before they came back to the Jag and the radio to pass the plan along to Purdey.
Still, Steed had kept his doubts in reserve -- one of them being that Gambit would have the strength for the longer, slower route. It was a relief to see the man upright, and far more stable than he'd been earlier, for all that Florrie had been worried about him. Still a bit shaky physically, perhaps, but the edginess that might slip into hysteria had faded away, and he met Steed's smile with one of his own.
"Sorry I didn't come back. I meant to, but..."
"But you were being followed," Steed finished for him. "Sam told me that much. It doesn't matter now."
Gambit's smile grew rueful. "Well, I had promised to be good."
Steed chuckled. "And I promised to get you to the part of London where you wanted to go -- and this isn't it, is it? So why don't we just extend the deadline or forget about it altogether?"
Gambit's shoulders relaxed a fraction, just enough to show how tense he'd been a moment earlier. "Fair enough. As long as the kids are all right."
"We'll try to keep them that way." Steed looked over to Purdey. "If it looks like someone's following you while you're on the water, raise Harton with your RT -- he'll be listening on channel two -- and he'll take care of it."
"Right. Where are you going to be?" Purdey asked.
"Playing bait." Steed acknowledged the alarmed rise of her eyebrows with a nod. "Don't fret, I won't be alone for long. Merton, Atherton and Lessing are on their way to help out. Just as well -- the chap that our friend Sam calls 'the Watcher' has definitely got reinforcements of his own. At least two that we've spotted."
"Two of them?" Purdey echoed, as Steed took the ladder from Peter and set it up again.
"Fortunately," Steed said, "One of them is tied down with keeping an eye on my car. The other one may be a problem though." He signalled Gambit to come over. "No, with your back to the ladder," he added. "Purdey..."
She took the other side of Gambit and braced herself. Gambit got the idea straight away and let Steed and Purdey support the crutches as he got his good foot up one rung of the steps and then straightened his leg so he was a foot taller. He had to use their shoulders to go up the second step, but by then he was high enough to reach back and hitch himself into a sitting position on the wall.
"Wait a moment," Purdey said, as she passed the crutch she'd been holding over to Sam. Steed got the other crutch over and carefully pulled the ladder out from Gambit's dangling legs to fold it shut and pass it over next. At that point the problem became clear -- with the roses along the rest of the wall, only Sam was in position to help Gambit down again, and none of the rest of them could climb over to help.
But if Sam was worried it didn't show. He took charge of crutches and ladder without argument and got them set up as he waited for Gambit to swing his legs carefully up and around. "Okay, Gumby. I've got you," the boy said, holding up his arms as if to take Gambit's weight.
"I can manage most of it," Gambit said, taking hold of the crutches. "Stand back a couple of feet and see if you can't keep me out of the peonies, okay?"
"Oh... All right." Sam stood back and braced himself, ready to take the damage if Gambit started to fall.
Gambit looked down over his shoulder at Steed. "I've got to drop about four inches to get my foot onto the top of the ladder. Mind slowing me down?"
Steed chuckled as he got ahold of Gambit's belt-loop. "I never thought I'd hear you ask me that," he said. "Purdey, you take the other side. Ready... steady..."
No. Wait. She'd had black hair, hadn't she? And a little scar across her eyebrow. He'd noticed it when she bent over the bed.
"Gambit. Mike!" Purdey sounded worried. He opened his eyes and looked at her eyebrows. They were perfect. "Are you dizzy? Do you need to sit down?"
"No. No..." he answered. "I was just... thinking of something." The memory was gone again, except for that glimpse of dark hair and the small scar. "Purdey," her name felt bare without the honorific, but right for her somehow. "Purdey, was there another girl?"
One of those perfect eyebrows canted upwards, amused. "There've been several," she said. "You'll have to be more specific."
"At the hospital. With black hair."
She had to think about it for a moment, he could see it in her eyes, but she nodded. "Two of the nurses. And a third, although I don't think she's young enough to qualify as a 'girl', at least not the kind you usually mean."
"Oh." He wasn't sure what to do about that. He didn't want to go back to the hospital if he could avoid it. But there was no way here and now to tell if Purdey were only pretending not to know which person he meant. No time for explanations either. He took a better grip on the crutches and looked around for Peter. "Which wall now?"
"Over here," Peter said, taking the ladder into the shade of a cherry tree and setting it up again. "I don't think you can jump over here -- you'd hit your head on a tree branch."
He looked up. "I don't think I can pull myself up by a branch either," he admitted. "The tree's not strong enough. Sure this is the only place to get over?"
"The other side's all roses except for here," Florrie contributed. "Let me get over first, though and I'll get Sam and the others to hurry up and come help."
"Good thought," said Purdey. "Here, I'll hold your bag. And, Gambit, once she's gone you can sit down on the ladder for a bit."
He nodded. "Probably a good idea. It's shady here, anyway."
Purdey waited until he'd managed to turn and lower himself to the ladder before she touched his cheek with the back of her fingers. "You feel a bit warm."
"You would too, if you'd tried jumping over a wall with one foot," he told her, the words coming out more sharply than he meant. After all, it wasn't like she was fussing at him as much as Aunt Mabel always did. But to his surprise, she only grinned.
"I expect I would," she conceded cheerfully. "If I was silly enough to try it in the first place." She leaned against the wall and began to rummage in Florrie's bag. "Ah, I thought so. She's put the cans on top of the bread."
He closed his eyes again, trying to remember something, anything, about Purdey from before the hospital. Something that would tell him if she were friend or foe. Something that would tell him why she'd kissed him, and whether it was her double-barrelled slingshot in his pocket. Double-barrelled slingshot? But it had been his own voice speaking, and he couldn't remember where he'd been or when -- all he was certain of was that he'd been cold and afraid. Cold, and afraid, but not alone. He thought about asking Purdey whether it was hers, but before he could decide what he'd do if she said no, he heard another voice behind him.
"Sorry to take so long," Steed's cheerfulness had an undertone of unmistakable urgency. "But we had to arrange for transportation."
***
Steed waited until Purdey and the boy who must be Peter got Gambit to his feet and the ladder out of the way before he boosted Tinpot over the wall and clambered over himself. Sam stayed on the rosegarden side, saying "You'll need me here to catch," when Steed glanced the question at him.
Steed nodded. On the whole he found himself approving of Sam Holmes. The ability to think ahead -- and act on those thoughts -- was rare enough in a just-turned-twelve-year old, judging from his memories of various nephews and nieces at that awkward age. Combined with the kind of mind that thoroughly enjoyed a puzzle to be solved, a discriminating ability to dance around inconvenient rules, and a quick eye for the problems and possibilities of a plan, and it was clear that Sam certainly had the kind of potential that should probably be encouraged to stay on the less shady side of the law. Although in Steed's opinion chances were slim the boy would join the ranks of Diabolical Masterminds -- not with that idealistic streak -- which was just as well, since by the time Sam reached his growth Steed would definitely be slowing down.
It had been Sam who had convinced Steed that Gambit wouldn't be able to rest until he'd had the chance to test the memories which were bothering him. Well, that and the realization that the Jaguar was under observation. They'd tested whether the motorcyclist would follow them or stay with the car by going around a corner -- Steed hadn't even had to explain why, at least not to Sam -- and when it was clear that the man was committed to following the Jag, Sam had broached his idea about using the river to get Gambit clear. Steed had revised it to include the other children, and meeting Sam's father. Then he'd bought some fish and chips for the journey, since everyone was going to miss having their tea, and they needed an excuse for having gone out of sight before they came back to the Jag and the radio to pass the plan along to Purdey.
Still, Steed had kept his doubts in reserve -- one of them being that Gambit would have the strength for the longer, slower route. It was a relief to see the man upright, and far more stable than he'd been earlier, for all that Florrie had been worried about him. Still a bit shaky physically, perhaps, but the edginess that might slip into hysteria had faded away, and he met Steed's smile with one of his own.
"Sorry I didn't come back. I meant to, but..."
"But you were being followed," Steed finished for him. "Sam told me that much. It doesn't matter now."
Gambit's smile grew rueful. "Well, I had promised to be good."
Steed chuckled. "And I promised to get you to the part of London where you wanted to go -- and this isn't it, is it? So why don't we just extend the deadline or forget about it altogether?"
Gambit's shoulders relaxed a fraction, just enough to show how tense he'd been a moment earlier. "Fair enough. As long as the kids are all right."
"We'll try to keep them that way." Steed looked over to Purdey. "If it looks like someone's following you while you're on the water, raise Harton with your RT -- he'll be listening on channel two -- and he'll take care of it."
"Right. Where are you going to be?" Purdey asked.
"Playing bait." Steed acknowledged the alarmed rise of her eyebrows with a nod. "Don't fret, I won't be alone for long. Merton, Atherton and Lessing are on their way to help out. Just as well -- the chap that our friend Sam calls 'the Watcher' has definitely got reinforcements of his own. At least two that we've spotted."
"Two of them?" Purdey echoed, as Steed took the ladder from Peter and set it up again.
"Fortunately," Steed said, "One of them is tied down with keeping an eye on my car. The other one may be a problem though." He signalled Gambit to come over. "No, with your back to the ladder," he added. "Purdey..."
She took the other side of Gambit and braced herself. Gambit got the idea straight away and let Steed and Purdey support the crutches as he got his good foot up one rung of the steps and then straightened his leg so he was a foot taller. He had to use their shoulders to go up the second step, but by then he was high enough to reach back and hitch himself into a sitting position on the wall.
"Wait a moment," Purdey said, as she passed the crutch she'd been holding over to Sam. Steed got the other crutch over and carefully pulled the ladder out from Gambit's dangling legs to fold it shut and pass it over next. At that point the problem became clear -- with the roses along the rest of the wall, only Sam was in position to help Gambit down again, and none of the rest of them could climb over to help.
But if Sam was worried it didn't show. He took charge of crutches and ladder without argument and got them set up as he waited for Gambit to swing his legs carefully up and around. "Okay, Gumby. I've got you," the boy said, holding up his arms as if to take Gambit's weight.
"I can manage most of it," Gambit said, taking hold of the crutches. "Stand back a couple of feet and see if you can't keep me out of the peonies, okay?"
"Oh... All right." Sam stood back and braced himself, ready to take the damage if Gambit started to fall.
Gambit looked down over his shoulder at Steed. "I've got to drop about four inches to get my foot onto the top of the ladder. Mind slowing me down?"
Steed chuckled as he got ahold of Gambit's belt-loop. "I never thought I'd hear you ask me that," he said. "Purdey, you take the other side. Ready... steady..."
