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John Steed frowned, the creases between his eyebrows deepening as he stared at the document in front of him. What in hell did any of these funny shapes and patterns have to do with his intelligence? He circled what he hoped was the right answer and moved on to the next puzzle which was just as baffling as the one previous.“Steed,” called a prim yet insistent voice.He quickly covered his paper with the sleeve of his suit coat. “No peeking,” he scolded as his partner loomed over his left shoulder.Emma smirked and blew a strand of hair out of her face. “I’m not the one who’s a genius at cribbing,” she unnecessarily reminded him, tapping his bowler hat for emphasis.Steed sighed and crumpled up the exam. “It’s no use,” he said cheerily. “I will just have to remain a top-secret government agent with a mediocre IQ.”Emma’s brown eyes filled with concern. “You aren’t seriously upset that I had a higher score?”Steed gave the talented amateur spy a sad smile. “I’m honestly chuffed that you are so brilliant, Mrs. Peel. I just thought that maybe you were disappointed in me. A woman of your intelligence could do anything she wanted. Yet you choose to serve queen and country alongside a bloke who needs to have sixty points added to his score even when he cheats.”“I said you were a genius,” she insisted, “and I meant it. IQ only measures a specific type of intelligence. There are many different ways of being clever.”Steed raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Is that so?”Understanding suddenly dawned on her, and she pursed her lips into a grimace. “This whole conversation was a setup, wasn’t it?”“Let’s just call it a ‘test,’” he quipped, grinning.“Did I pass?”“With flying colours. Thanks for giving my ego a much needed stroke.”Her eyes sparkled rebelliously. “I’m glad you liked it, for it’s the only one you’re getting.” She turned and walked saucily away, leaving him feeling oddly titillated, mentally and otherwise.