Note that "Too Many Christmas Trees" took place very early in the partnership of Steed and Emma, before they'd developed any romantic entanglements.
White Christmas
The sun shone white in a grey sky, and on the black road winding through the cold countryside, a forest green Bentley crept at only slightly more than a snail-like pace. The driver of the open car, John Steed, wore a camel-hair coat and a top hat, and wrapped up snugly in furs in the passenger's seat was Emma Peel.
John Steed ached in every bone of his body, from both physical and mental exhaustion. It had been an unforgettable Christmas Eve. He'd accompanied Emma Peel to a weekend party held at the home of newspaper publisher Brandon Storey, and while there had come under intense mental attack by three powerful psychics trying to force him to reveal secrets, gleaned through his position as one of England's top agents. With the aid of Emma Peel he had defeated his enemies. The aid...Steed smiled. Emma had saved his life. At the very end, he'd been knocked unconscious and was at the mercy of the villains. Emma had taken out two of them, giving him the time he needed to regain consciousness and assist her in defeating the third.
And now it was Christmas, and they were leaving that nightmare house behind and driving into the cold, clean air of an English winter.
Steed reached behind him, his face not betraying the effort it cost him to make that movement, and his hand came into view again carrying a long, sturdy twig, to the end of which was affixed a sprig of mistletoe. He held it above Emma's head. She glanced up at the twig, her lovely face framed within the white fur of her winter hood, and then she did something that shocked him. She lifted smiling lips to his.
He hadn't expected it.
They'd worked together for four months, on six assignments. He'd flirted with her to start with, of course. Despite the fact that she'd have none of it, he'd persevered, for no other reason than that flirting with women was as natural to him as breathing But the more they'd worked together, perfecting their teamwork during the deadly adventures they had survived, the more he had felt drawn to her. He had found himself no longer wanting to flirt - he wanted to have a deeper relationship. But he had not dared to reveal his new feelings. She was but six months widowed...she had already made her feelings clear and she was not the sort of woman who pretended no interest simply in order to egg a chap on.
Mrs. Peel broke the kiss first. ''Car!'' she yelled.
Steed turned and corrected the Bentley's drift simultaneously, and a silver Vauxhall honked its way past them, while its driver made an extremely rude gesture. Steed couldn't blame him.
''Marvelous peripheral vision, Mrs. Peel,'' he commented.
''A good thing, too,'' she replied calmly.
Emma Peel lifted the mistletoe twig from her lap and deposited it in the back seat of the Bentley. Then she drew her furs closer around her and gazed straight ahead. She had been as surprised as Steed by her action.
Steed drove on, his face a study in concentration. He increased the speed of the Bentley, but not by much. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the sheen of persperation on his forehead, under the brim of his tophat. She knew the stress Steed had been under these last few days...she knew how he must be feeling now.
''Steed,'' she said, ''You are in no shape for the long drive back to London. We're about to pass through a village. Why don't we see if they have an inn or a hotel of some kind?''
Steed blinked. ''What a good idea,'' he said, eyes on the road, nodding.
Emma glanced at him. He'd said the kind of words she expected, but he hadn't glanced at her while he'd said them, with that flirtatious grin on his face. He seemed very uncomfortable. She was very uncomfortable.
Emma rested her oval chin in her hand. She'd always been attracted to Steed. From day one. He was intelligent, with a good sense of humor. He respected her abilities. He was in lovely shape, he was handsome, and he was charming. Too charming, she had decided, with his never ending flirting. That meant shallowness. Love 'em and leave 'em, as the Americans said. That was not what she wanted in a relationship, no matter how attracted she was to the man in question.
But this latest case had revealed a new side. His vulnerability, and his courage in handling what must have been a terrifying experience for him, at least at the beginning. Could her feelings have changed due to the maternal instinct, her desire to comfort him now that he had revealed this vulnerability? Not at all, she thought with an inner smile. She had no maternal instincts. She had a nurturing instinct, but that wasn't the same thing.
Steed didn't need nurturing. The case was over, and they'd been victorious. Despite the fact that he was obviously tired he was clearly not changed in any way. He was still Steed. She'd seen another facet of him, that was all. A facet that, combined with all of his other qualities, had now changed her mind.
Emma Peel massaged her forehead. She was being very analytical here. Was that a good sign or a bad sign? Emma laughed out loud.
''What's so funny,'' Steed asked.
Emma grinned at him. Steed stared at her, and their eyes locked. After several seconds Steed brought his attention back to the road. Ahead he saw the sign that would lead them off the main road into the village of Upper Heyford. Steed took the exit.
Steed had no illusions at his ability to charm a woman into a mutually rewarding brief encounter. He was very good at it. He treated them all like ladies and they never had any cause to complain. But Mrs. Peel expected more from a chap. If it hadn't been for that kiss, he would have dismissed her offer that they stop for the day as a simple kindness, and not thought anymore of it. But that kiss changed things. She'd changed... He'd have to be careful now, not make any false steps. He'd have to wait for her to make the first move.
He drove very slowly down the Main Street of the village, and as they passed the local pub it indeed did have a sign out front declaiming, Rooms for hire.
Steed turned into the parking lot. He set the Bentley's parking break with a flourish, which caused a muscle in his back to scream irritably, and then he turned and looked at Mrs. Peel. ''Well, Mrs. Peel?'' he asked, calmly.
''A single room, I think, Steed.'' Emma said, equally as calm.
Steed's eyes lit up. ''Jolly good.'' He put a hand on the windscreen prepatory to levering himself out of the seat, when Mrs. Peel said, ''Wait - we need to visit a chemist's.''
Steed grinned at her with his old insouciance. ''Not to worry, Mrs. Peel. I had myself fixed years ago. No desire to have the patter of little hooves about the place, don't you know?'
Emma smiled.
She remained by the Bentley while Steed went in and resgistered. He returned with the key and came to a stop, smiling. She bent and picked up her suitcase, he picked up his - a muscle in his cheek twitched - and t hey walked down the pavement to their room. Steed twisted the key in the lock and flung it open. ''After you, Mrs. Peel.''
The room was large, but cozy, with overstuffed furniture and a big bed. Sunlight pressed up against the curtains - it was only noon, after all. They placed their suitcases on the tables provided and Steed opened his and removed his shaving kit. ''Bags I go first,'' he said, and went into the bathroom.
Steed ran some water into the sink and splashed it on his face. Cold and bracing. But it wasn't bracing him enough. He was soo exhausted. Even the iminent prospect of making love to Emma Peel wasn't doing anything for him. Damn, damn, damn!
Steed sighed, and brushed his teeth, and came back into the room. Mrs. Peel was unpacking clothes into a huge wardrobe.
''Mrs. Peel.''
She turned, concerned at the tone of his voice.
''My dear, I'm terribly sorry. But I have to sleep.''
''Of course, Steed!'' Emma caressed his arm with quick concern. She'd known he was exhausted. Well, so was she, come to that, physically if not mentally. ''Tumble yourself into bed and get comfortable. I...'' and she threw a sensible nightgown over her shoulder, ''will change in private.''
Moving more like an old man than he cared to acknowledge, Steed undressed and slipped into his pajamas. He climbed into the big, soft bed that embraced him like a lover, and sighed with pleasure.
Emma came out of the bathroom, smoothing the folds of white linen around her. ''How charming you look, my dear,'' said Steed.
''Thank you, Steed.''
Emma pulled back her side of the covers and slipped in. She scooched over with remarkable grace to Steed's side, looked down into his eyes for a second, and then very quickly bestowed a kiss. Then she scooched down and put an arm around his chest and laid her head on his shoulder. ''Is this comfortable?''
''Extremely.'' Steed raised his arm and draped it around her shoulders as well. Her body felt so warm beneath his...and she was here, in bed with him. And...there was always tonight.
Content, Steed fell asleep, and very quickly, so did Emma Peel.
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