THE REAL ENDING OF THE JOKER
by Patty Pat
DISCLAIMERS: Please bear in mind that English is only my second language and therefore you will find grammatical mistakes.
I do not own the characters, although I wish I could have Steed for myself.. *g* No copyright infringement intended, no money made out of this either.
! Spoiler warning !
Rated PG for small (not too graphic) love scene.
Enjoy the story! Patty Pat
Voice 'off' - Narrator
For the purpose of 1967 television, the truth about the ending of the episode called "The Joker" was altered. You have to watch it to see what they did with it. This is what really happened that very early morning when an injured Steed (left leg tendons torn) found an emotionally exhausted Emma...
When knocked down by the giant card held by Steed, Pendergast fell and broke his neck on the medieval oak chair. Steed hadn't intended to kill him, but wasn't overly sad by the result. At least this time, they were sure he wouldn't come and haunt them ever again.
"Oh dear, do you think I frightened him?" Steed asked, looking down at the now dead body of Pendergast.
Mrs. Peel was in a jumble of emotions: fear, fatigue, relief and now laughter. She leaned on the back of the high chair and smiled at him. Her hero. Injured or not, he had come forward to save her, again. Steed wobbled toward her, trying his best to hide the pain in his leg.
"Can I take you home... or would you like to stay until Monday?" he asked softly, not wanting to assume anything. She sadly shook her head negatively and dropped her gun on the chair, stretching her arm to make physical contact with him, needing it to make sure he was real, that he wasn't another of Pendergast's trick. Steed stepped forward and held her hand gently. The feel of his strength was enough to break Emma's will and she gave in the safety of his arms, hugging him like there was no tomorrow. He held her tightly against him, ignoring the pain in his leg and savouring the warmth of her body.
"It's all right, Emma. It's all right.." he soothed her softly, caressing her hair tenderly. She wasn't crying, not Emma, but she needed to feel him, absorb his strength and show him her relief. Only with him would she let down the walls that usually surround her feelings. Only Steed. Her hero.
"It's been quite a night," she whispered without moving out of the comforting embrace. Steed could easily imagine what might have happened to distress Emma so much. She wasn't one easily frightened. For her to be in this state of emotions, it must indeed have been quite a night.
"Well, it's morning now," he said softly. "The fog's lifted. Let's take a breath of fresh air," he suggested, gently directing her toward the main hall. Holding each other close, allowing him a support for his injured leg and her the comfort of his presence, they walked toward their cars.
Steed's first move was toward the Bentley, but without a word, Emma convinced him to take her Elan instead. The pain was such that he probably wouldn't have been able to change gear, but Steed wouldn't have admitted it. Emma knew how to work with him so he wouldn't loose his pride by giving in her will. During the day, a team from the Bureau would come and clean the place, retrieving Emma's clothes and Steed's car. For the moment, Emma drove silently toward her apartment. There was no stairs for him to climb to reach the bedroom at her place, so it was the logical choice to make. Beside, dropping him off and then going home was totally out of the question. Steed never questioned her decision, feeling the same need for togetherness as she did.
In Emma's flat, Steed's first move was to reach toward the Brandy then the couch, but he never made it past the bar. Emma took his glass and gently directed him toward the bedroom.
"I know you, Steed. If you sit on that couch, I'll never get you up again. You deserve to sleep in a real bed and rest that leg of yours."
"Oh come on, Mrs. Peel, I assure you that my leg is.."
"..awfully painful. Bed, now," she ordered with a wicked smile. "I'm going to take a shower and be right back."
Steed shook his head in disbelief as she walked out. They had been occasional lovers for over a year now, yet she was always surprising him. And she was reading him like he was an open book, too. She was right, his leg was throbbing badly and he didn't want to sleep on the couch.. for multiple reasons. He slowly undressed and wobbled toward his drawer. The thought made him smile. HIS drawer at HER place. Like HER closet at HIS apartment. Not stepping too fast into a relationship, yet setting up the corner-stones of commitment. And committed he was: there hadn't been any other women since Emma entered his life.
When Emma came back in the room, Steed was lying in bed only wearing his pyjama pants and savouring his glass of Brandy, patiently waiting for her to reappear.
"Comfortable, Steed?" she asked as she walked around the bed.
"It'll be better in a few seconds," he smiled widely at her, then putting his glass on the bedside table, he slid down between the sheets and welcomed her in his arms. "Ah yes, now it is perfectly comfortable," he whispered in her ears.
"I fully agree," she answered, cuddling as close as she could. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell that was uniquely Steed: a hint left over from his cologne, a touch of Brandy on his lips, a bit of musk and perspiration, all mixing together to define this special man in her life. Her hero. Steed.
The adrenaline gone left them both extremely exhausted and it took only a few minutes until they both were asleep in each other's arms.
Emma woke up before him, just past noon time. She looked around and felt relieved when she confirmed that she was home safe with him by her side. Steed. What an intriguing character he was. Not really showing out his emotions and yet immensely passionate with what life had to offer. She looked at him tenderly. He was so sweet when sleeping, so vulnerable and yet so strong, his face muscles all relaxed making him appear a few years younger, in peace with himself and the world. What a difference with the awaken man, self controlled and always watching his back. It warmed her heart to know that he trusted her so totally, lying there at her mercy without any doubt. At her mercy, the words rolled through her mind and brought an evil smile to her lips. What an interesting prospect, she thought.
Her hands started wandering on his broad chest, playing on bare skin and teasing his little hair between his breast. She smiled at the goose-bumps rising on his body while he was still asleep and continued her soft exploration. His beard was starting to show a little, not really showing as much as feeling, really. But even with the start of whiskers, he still looked refined as he always do. Her finger slowly followed the little crow's foot, signs of a man who liked to laugh. When her hand wandered above his ear, she was glad to realize that he hadn't put any brilliantine in his hair the previous morning. She had always preferred him with his hair naturally comb, even if it meant a few resilient strands here and there. Emma realized with a smile that he was using less of it since the day she had told him so. Her fingers were now on the nape of his neck where she caressed the perfectly trimmed hair, slightly tickling him and creating more goose-bumps all over him. She smiled widely at the discovery of her power on his body. Her hand traveled down toward his chest where she started to turn around his nipple.
Steed had started to awaken when she had touched his temple but his mind was reluctant to do any movement that might interrupt her exploration. Now however, Emma was definitely triggering awake part of him that couldn't be ignored.
"Mrs. Peel," he mumbled, "what.."
"Shhtt.. allow me, please.."
She held herself on top of him and looked deep in his eyes, searching any hint of refusal he might have felt and finding none. She bent down and kissed him, tenderly at first and growing passionate while the hand not supporting her weight traveled down his torso. Out of breath, she raised her head and saw her own arousal reflected in his glinting eyes. She kissed him again, briefly this time, and slid down slightly, her mouth worshipping every inch of his chest, her hands moving softly all over his skin. She stopped when his hand reached her hair, gently taking it away and her head saying 'no'.
"Let me," she whispered. "You'll have your turn later. Please?"
Closing his eyes, he shook his head affirmatively, giving her free access to his tensing body. It was always a big step for him, to give her control so totally, Emma was very aware of it and loved him even more for trusting her. He opened his eyes just in time to see her diving toward him to deliver another passionate kiss that left them both breathless. He refrained himself to hug her and turn them over to ravish her. It was her moment, she wanted to love him and he more than willingly was ready to let her do as she pleased.
Emma's hands and mouth moved down on him, creating many delightful sensations on every single nerve of his body. His rational mind realized for a second that he wasn't rational at all, then he decided he didn't care. It felt too good to think about anything else but this gorgeous woman worshipping his body. He raised his head to look at her, and seeing her doing what he was already feeling excited him even more. One of her hand moved under the elastic of his pants, teasing his already erect manhood but never touching it.
"Emma..." he moaned, willing her to act faster. But she had other ideas and took her sweet time teasing before sliding his pants down to his ankles and removing them. She climbed back slowly, caressing and teasing every hair on his leg, a delightful torment that was driving him crazy. She took the time to admire his muscled body, loving the fact that he was in such a great shape for a man in his mid-forties. He was so much better than any men she'd ever known, emotionally, physically and mentally. She loved him and she wanted him to fully understand that today, while she tantalizingly made love to him.
At long last, she raised herself and straddled his hips. One exchanged look meant more than any words could have as she lowered herself on his erection. They both moaned at the feeling of being joined, being merged into one. His hands pulled at her transparent nightgown and she allowed him the transgression. She took the garment off, baring herself for him as her hips rocked softly on him. He looked at her like the goddess she was to his eyes. She was everything he had always dreamed to find in a woman. And at this moment, they were moving in sync toward the apocalyptic pleasure where they both would scream each other's name breathlessly.
They held each other in the aftermath of their lovemaking, catching their breath and regaining a lower heartbeat rate. No word was needed as their feelings were far beyond any existing word.
You understand now why the production slightly changed and cut the ending of that awful night that Pendergast has invented for Mrs. Peel. They never left the bedroom that day, except for a brief dinner interlude. But the rest of their lovemaking is left to the reader's imagination. ;o)
© Patty Pat 2002
No aspect of this story may be used elsewhere without the expressed prior written consent of the author. These stories may not be altered in any way or sold; all copyright information must appear with this work at all times. Please read disclaimers and warnings on top of each story. Feel free to send constructive comments to me.. :o)
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