This story copyright © 2003 Mia McCroskey
The characters from The Avengers and other sources are the property of their respective owners.
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Steed takes a fall
Emma takes a delivery
Chapter 1
"Miss Knight, can you describe for the court the events of the afternoon of April twenty-third, nineteen seventy-two?" The prosecutor's sonorous voice reminded Emma of a minister delivering a sermon. Ignoring the twinge of her baby kicking within her she cleared her throat to speak.
"I was meeting with two of my senior staff members -- Mr. Benson and Mr. Harper. Miss Howard, my newly hired assistant, arrived at my office to speak briefly to me, so I asked the gentlemen to continue their discussion while I spoke to her."
The lawyer nodded encouragingly and Emma thought back once again to that awful day. She had rehearsed this mentally over and over again since receiving notice of the trial, but it had not gotten any easier.
"Miss Howard and I sat on the sofa in my office. Mr. Benson and Mr. Harper stayed in the chairs in front of my desk. We heard a disturbance in the outer office -- Miss Howard had left the door ajar.
"Mrs. Emerson, my secretary, was trying to prevent Mr. Birch from coming in, but he ignored her. He was carrying a gun that he aimed at me."
Emma's heart pounded and a lump formed in her throat. She put her hand over the top of her belly and swallowed hard, then took a deep breath.
"Are you all right, Miss Knight?" the judge asked quietly. She turned her head toward him and saw concern in his eyes. She nodded, then looked back at the jury. Evan Birch had tried to kill her. She had every intention of telling them about it.
"Mr. Birch said that he had tried to discourage me from getting involved with Knight Industries, but --."
"Objection! Hearsay, my lord!" the defense attorney barked.
"My lord, Miss Knight has been asked to tell us her recollection of events -- she must include what she heard the defendant say. He will have his opportunity to speak," the prosecutor said calmly. The judge nodded, the corners of his eyes pinching as he squinted at the defense attorney.
"Objection overruled. Go on, Miss Knight."
The prosecutor smiled encouragement at Emma and she took a breath to go on.
"He said he had tried to discourage me from returning to Knight, but that I hadn't listened. I told him I would not give up. He said he would not either."
"Were those his exact words, and yours?" the prosecutor asked, and Emma sensed a trap. She quickly thought back over what she'd just said, and realized she'd said it differently the first time. She honestly could not remember the exact words that she and Birch had exchanged that day. He had called her a foul name -- perhaps a bitch -- but she really didn't remember exactly what. The ministry knew, of course, because there had been a bug in her office that afternoon and they had a tape of the entire episode. But they had not released it to the court. There were enough witnesses to Birch's actions to convict him without it.
"No, I don't think so," she said. "I don't remember the exact words that either of us said."
"Very well, Miss Knight. Please continue."
"He raised his gun toward me and Mr. Benson tried to stop him. Mr. Birch shot Mr. Benson in the leg and Mr. Benson fell back onto Mr. Harper. I took the opportunity to attack Mr. Birch."
There was a low murmuring among the spectators and several of the jurors exchanged puzzled glances.
"You believed you had a good chance of overpowering Mr. Birch, Miss Knight?" The prosecutor interrupted her.
"Mr. Birch was distracted. I gained the advantage of height by climbing onto the coffee table before he could return his attention to me."
"Miss Knight," the prosecutor asked, "Is it true that you are an expert in martial arts and other forms of self defense?"
"Yes."
This satisfied the puzzled jurors, although several seemed to be amused at the vision, inaccurate as it was, of the pregnant woman hurling herself across a coffee table.
"Thank you Miss Knight. Please go on."
"I tackled Mr. Birch, but he regained his feet and threw me into the chairs by the fireplace. And then he shot me."
The prosecutor let the silence that fell in the courtroom draw out. Emma shut her eyes and took a deep breath, struggling to suppress her memories of the next few moments.
"Can you tell us what happened next, Miss Knight?"
Emma's eyes shot open and she glared at the lawyer. He had not warned her that he would ask her to go on. She felt her heart begin to race again as the suppressed memory surged forward. The words spilled out unbidden.
"Steed was there, so I remember thinking that everything would be all right. He helped Sally cover the bullet wound in my chest, to try to stop the bleeding. And then he had to leave," she frowned for a moment, and then the reason rushed back. "He had a prisoner with him, and the prisoner escaped so he had to go after him. I passed out after that."
"Miss Knight," the prosecutor placed his hand lightly on hers on the edge of the witness stand. Emma looked up at him, her expression slightly dazed. Her head was buzzing with the same rushing she'd felt on that day. She realized as she looked at the lawyer and the rushing faded that she was feeling faint. He squeezed her hand ever so slightly, tugging her back to full consciousness.
"Miss Knight, tell us who 'Steed' is."
"John Steed," she said, understanding why he was asking. "He is my husband. He was my fiancÈ at the time."
The prosecutor nodded at her and turned back toward the jury. "We will hear from Mr. Steed, who is involved in security, later," he explained. Emma followed his gaze and realized that several jurors wore satisfied expressions or slight smiles. They were wondering if I'm unmarried and pregnant, she thought, astonished. As if it matters!
The prosecutor asked Emma a few more questions to tie up loose ends in her narrative, then dismissed her. She stepped out of the witness stand, helped by the bailiff, and then walked through the courtroom. She was well aware of all the eyes upon her, but such attention was much easier to endure than the spotlight of the witness stand.
As she stepped out of the courtroom Steed arose from the bench across the corridor where he'd been seated. He stepped to her and guided her to the bench to sit down.
"Well?" he asked, "You look drained."
Emma leaned back on the uncomfortable seat and shut her eyes.
"I can't believe how tiring it was," she said, then opened her eyes to look him.
"Well, it's over now," he offered.
"The defense questioning will be worse."
Steed slipped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed, unwilling to make a more demonstrative gesture in such a formal, public space.
"They'll call me next," he said, and as he spoke the courtroom door opened and his name was called. He pressed a kiss on her temple and got up to go inside. Emma remained seated for a few minutes, then got up to find the toilet. Steed found her back on the bench a half hour later.
"How did it go?" she asked, rising to meet him.
He shrugged. "I'm used to these things," he said, and she realized that he must be. It was another aspect of his business that he had always shielded her from -- only rarely had she been called to testify in the trial of one of their suspects.
"It's late in the day," he said. "The judge will probably adjourn until tomorrow."
"So we'll have to come back," she sighed and he nodded, wrapping his hand around hers.
"Look on the bright side," he suggested, "They'll call Sally tomorrow, so you'll have her to keep you company."
The courtroom doors opened and the spectators began to come out. A bailiff crossed to Steed and Emma to tell them that the court had, indeed adjourned for the day. Steed guided Emma toward the courthouse entrance. They were quite distinctive as they stepped outside, Emma in her navy blue linen maternity dress and Steed with his bowler and umbrella in hand. The reporters lingering on the steps couldn't miss them. They swarmed like pigeons on breadcrumbs, blocking Steed and Emma's descent to the sidewalk.
"Miss Knight, was it difficult talking about that day?"
"Miss Knight, do you think Mr. Birch will be convicted?"
"Miss Knight, is this your husband?"
"When is your baby due, Miss Knight?" Emma glanced toward these last two reporters and recognized them as from society papers. The rest were hard newsmen. Steed stood on the step behind her, his hand resting discretely on the small of her back, his face a neutral mask.
"It was difficult to speak of the events prior to Mr. Birch's arrest, but I am dedicated to seeing justice served," Emma said. Steed was relieved that she had regained her composure -- perhaps it was the reporters that brought out her executive instincts.
"So you believe he'll be convicted?"
"I believe he is guilty of several crimes, and I have faith in the jury to reach the right decision. And yes," she looked toward the society reporters, "this is my husband, and my baby is due at the end of September. If you don't mind, I really do wish to get off my feet."
The reporters parted for them and they descended the steps to the black sedan waiting by the curb.
"Stable Mews, please," Steed told the driver as they pulled away, then he glanced at Emma for agreement. "We do have to come back in the morning," he added.
"I shall have to make some calls," she said. "Mrs. Emerson will have to cancel my meetings for tomorrow afternoon -- just in case this thing drags on. You don't mind my not introducing you to that lot, do you?"
Steed reached over and took her hand, an amused smile curling his lips. "You know I prefer anonymity, darling. I'm sure my role in all this will be in the papers anyway -- there were reporters in the courtroom, too."
"Yes, that's what I'm afraid of. I'm not sure how I feel about the world knowing that I'm married to a spy," she said carefully. Steed studied the side of her face for a moment, trying to decide how to take that. "I'm thinking of the shareholders, darling, and other companies. Competitive companies will always assume I have inside information on government contracts. I shall have to continue to rely on Edmond as a negotiator. Now there's irony for you."
Steed raised her hand to his lips, understanding dawning and sympathy for her awkward position helping him to suppress a little spark of anger. His being a spy had never bothered her before. He wanted to point out that an enterprising researcher could easily discover her own intelligence career, but he refrained. He knew it was the stress talking.
They had recently discovered that Edmond Stanton, Emma's chief negotiator at Knight, had lied about ending his career in military intelligence with the war. He was active after that, and could still be. Steed didn't want to pursue that line of conversation with Emma just then, both because the ministry driver could overhear, and because he had not yet had a chance to follow up on the matter.
"If anyone asks those at the MOD with whom Knight negotiates, they will attest to your absolutely above-board dealings," he assured her. And if they don't, I'll see to it that they never negotiate another contract again.