Thanks to Frances for the beta. All remaining errors are mine.


CI5's top team strolled down the pre-war building's corridor to their boss' office.

Doyle had been grumbling the entire trip there. "We were promised four days off. We only got one."

"That's what we get for being the best," Bodie remarked immodestly.

"We can't stay the best if we don't get a little time off." Doyle snapped at his partner, annoyed that he should be in such good spirits.

"I'm as annoyed as you are, Doyle, I just don't choose to show it." Bodie said airily as they stopped at Cowley's door.

"What could have happened that the Cow had to call us in?" Doyle knocked on the door after his partner's shrug.

"Come in." Cowley called out. When the head of CI5 saw who entered his office, he barked, "What took you so long?"

"We were off duty, sir," Bodie reminded him.

"You're never off duty. It's in the fine print."

"Yes, sir," both men replied. They remained silent; their boss didn't seem in a particularly good mood.

"The P.M. called."

Bodie nudged his partner, their eyes met in understanding, that was why he had cut in on their off time.

Cowley continued, "The Prime Minister has asked me to look into a murder in a Berkshire town. What I think we have stumbled on to is a serial killer."

"A serial killer and the press hasn't caught onto it yet?" Bodie responded with false surprise.

Doyle was more pragmatic. "Why us?"

"We'd have heard about it." Bodie wasn't buying it.

"Why us?" Cowley looked at his men, they could already hear, "it's in the fine print". "The P.M. specifically requested us, that's why us. Why doesn't the press know?" The Controller of CI5 paused just long enough for his opinion of the press to be known but unstated. "Because in this Berkshire town, more than a quarter of its residents are homosexuals. The deaths weren't looked into all that closely. No one's made a connection... until now."

Doyle still didn't understand their involvement, "Why does the Prime Minister want us to look into it? Why not the Yard?"

Cowley looked over his glasses, "The latest victim was the paramour of the P.M.'s godson. He doesn't want the press involved nor the local constabulary."

"Why do you believe this is the work of a serial killer?" Bodie asked as he flipped through the folder on Cowley's desk. "Four deaths, no two alike. No ritual, no pattern."

"Look closely, Bodie."

"Sir?" The dark haired agent looked up and set his eyes on his boss.

"Each victim was a male homosexual and each one was in an established relationship."

"You don't think that's stretching it a bit?" Bodie asked incredulously.

"I've got an itch..."

Doyle cut in, already dreading the drift of the assignment. "And what do you want us to do?"

"Go up there and establish a homosexual relationship. Publicly." After he took in Bodie's expression, he added, "Within reason, of course."

"Ah, sir... why us? There are some younger lads that would look more the part," Doyle wondered aloud.

"Aye, but no partnership indicates the closeness that you and Bodie have achieved. You look natural together even in close, tight places."

Doyle moved quickly to stand in front of his partner and jabbed his elbow back, hopping to connect hard. Anything to stop the snicker he knew from experience was forthcoming, from erupting into full laughter or worse yet, a dark humoured response.

Bodie took in the look of censure and in an attempt to needle his partner some more, asked, "So you're saying we look queer?" He didn't really care, but he loved the affronted look on his partner's face.

Exasperated, Cowley nearly bellowed, "No. That is not what I'm saying, don't be daft on purpose. To pull this off, a couple would have to appear at ease in close quarters. Your pairing, whatever else one might say about it, you both are at apparent ease with one another."

What he left unsaid, but made abundantly clear, was that whatever else that could have been said about them would not be nearly as complimentary.

Bodie just kept his aloof grin in place.

Doyle wanted the details on their part, "So what exactly is the assignment?"

Cowley took off his glasses and stared at his men pityingly, "Why, go to the town of Brentby, become an established homosexual couple and hope that someone tries to murder one of you." He paused and added since they seemed so addled, "Unsuccessfully murdered is preferred."

---

A house was purchased beyond the outskirts of town and Mr Bodie moved in alone.

The estate agent made known the only information he had on the new owner. He was a free-lance photographer back from a hairy time in Africa. He hoped to install a dark room. He had seemed reticent, but pleasant. Not much to contribute after four hours in his company.

The estate agent shrugged, "What can I say he wasn't given to chatting about himself, or talking much at all." He took a lot of ribbing at the local pub.

Kate Hooper was his housekeeper. Not much to do, she said often enough. Whether he was home or not, the place still looked much the same. She told them that her only real duty besides the dusting was the laundry. She did pass on that on his second trip home he had a dark room installed. He kept it locked and it wasn't part of her duties. She had offered to shop for him, but he had declined, stating he never knew when he'd return or be forced to leave.

Emma Greene, who ran the General Shop in the west end, felt she and her husband, Tom, knew Mr Bodie best of anyone in town. He kept a post office box located in her shop. He wasn't home regularly enough and chose to collect his post that way.

She felt he was a sad man. Alone most of the time, she believed that he had been hurt and now worked incessantly with little down time to keep the loneliness at bay. He had a sense of humour and a delightful smile the few times she'd seen it. He would share where he'd been, but nothing much about himself.

He usually stopped in at the pub across from Emma's, The Swift Stag, on his first night back for fish and chips and a lager. He would sit by himself and would nod in response to any given him, but most all could tell that Mr Bodie wanted to be alone.

Charlie Turnbill, the barman, was happy to pass on that Mr Bodie bought him a drink each visit. He also had the feeling that the solitary man was aware of everything happening around him. They had a bet on as to whether Mr Bodie was bent or a straight. No clue yet.

He was the topic of much town conversation. Even after three months he was part of the weekly conversations and when he was in town, he made the daily gossips.

Bodie was well aware of the gossip about him; it's what he wanted after all. He let them speculate for he couldn't very well take up with a local and put them in danger. They couldn't just have an influx of new town folk all at the same time, either. Cowley was very specific on how he wanted the op to run. So, he had to wait for Doyle to show up.

This op would begin in earnest next week. He and his partner were just wrapping up the Sutter op- a kidnapping with arms as the payoff. Doyle was completing the report which, in the long run would, be the easy part. Bodie had to work with the carpenters on the remodelling.

Studying the other murders and the time between them, Bodie figured that this case could take between four to ten months from the time that Doyle arrived. In the three plus months that Bodie had lived here he had yet to cultivate any acquaintances thus far. It was part of his cover. He and Doyle had planned that his entrance would take the brooding Bodie out of his shell and they would socialise, get to know the town folk after they had got together. All designed to make the questions to be asked less suspicious. Jason Foley, the Prime Minister's godson, would be on hand after Doyle's arrival.

Doyle had loved Bodie's reports of the betting pool and gossipy comments about his tough and stoic partner. Bodie did excel at hearing what he wasn't supposed to be privy to. They had spent a lot of time going over the files on all of the town's residents. Doyle had the official descriptions and Bodie's as well, he would have a kick seeing how close they were when he met them first hand.

Doyle's arrival was intended to be as flamboyant as was his undercover personality. He was the "Rough Outdoors" new model and spokesperson. He and the crew arrived by helicopter and set up at the edge of town. The shoot attracted a lot of attention and almost half the town turned out to watch.

It was the third day of the shoot and Emma's turn to mind the shop. Her husband, Tom, was watching the goings on. It usually got crowded after the filming ended, but someone had to stay all day. It was during a quiet time that Bodie entered the store.

Emma called out a greeting then asked, "Have you been out watching with the rest of them?"

Bodie looked up from the magazine he was reading when he realised that the grocer was talking to him. "Watching what?"

"That model out there. The ads they're filming."

"Oh. No, I didn't notice anything. Is she someone well known?" Bodie asked, completely in his role.

"No, I don't think HE is." Emma smiled at Mr Bodie's raised brow. "You should go watch. Meet people."

Bodie graced her with a quick, rare smile. "Thank you." He turned back to his reading and moved for better light.

Emma sighed, she wasn't sure what he thanked her for, maybe just for talking to him. He was such a loner. She did worry about him.

She didn't have much time to ponder the town loner for the filming seemed to be over for the day and the shop was getting busy. She watched Mr Bodie draw into himself and approach the counter to pay for his magazine. He didn't quite make it. The door opened and lots of people filed in.

The crowd of customers jostled his arm and Bodie dropped his wallet onto the ground. As he bent to pick it up he was bumped from behind and his head collided with the counter.

Rubbing his head, he stood angrily and barked, "Watch it." He turned to see the rude person behind him and froze in place.

Before him stood a vision of wind-blown, auburn hair and just ever so slanted green eyes. He was captivated and stood speechless, at that moment, Doyle was beautiful.

Emma was transfixed at the emotion she saw displayed for the first time on Mr Bodie's face.

The vision spoke, "I am sorry. Let me check. Hopefully I didn't damage anything." He put his hands out and rubbed Bodie's head.

Bodie's blue eyes never left the face before him. He continued to stare, speechless. The vision smiled and Bodie sucked in his breath.

Emma clapped her hand over her mouth. The pool on Mr Bodie was over.

"Hey, sunshine, are you okay? Have I injured you?" The vision continued to rub Bodie's head, then ran his hands down his back and back up again.

"No, I'm fine." Bodie's voice was low and husky. His eyes were still locked on the green ones before him.

"That's good. I'm Ray Doyle," he smiled, expecting a name in return.

Shaking himself from his inert state, Bodie nodded. "Bodie." He realised that he was holding up the queue, he put his money on the counter and turned to leave.

Emma sagged in disappointment, it had looked so promising for Mr Bodie. He had been struck dumb by the curly haired model. Now, he was walking away. He was such a lonely man.

Ray Doyle seemed disappointed as well, but he could do something about it. "How can I apologise?"

Some light seemed to come on in the blue eyes, or at least that's how Emma described it later. Mr Bodie stopped and turned, "Buy me a pint."

"It's yours." Ray Doyle nodded to Emma and followed the dark haired man out of the shop.

Emma rang Charlie up fast. Though it wasn't the norm, she wanted the barman to make sure that Mr Bodie got a table in the back and that no one needled him.

As far as Charlie could tell, Mr Bodie wouldn't have noticed. The only one their resident loner noticed was the curly haired golly before him. A lot of money would be changing hands this evening.

As soon as Tom showed up, Emma left him in charge of the shop and hurried over to the pub. Under the guise of helping Charlie, she kept her eye on Mr Bodie.

She watched as Bodie's face lit up, smiled, even laughed. He looked younger and very handsome. She studied the man that wrought the transformation. Ray Doyle, model. He was a pretty one and had the look of a heart breaker.

His crew had sounded like this was the last day. Some were leaving tonight and most tomorrow. She was afraid that the morrow would leave an even more inaccessible Mr Bodie.

Knowing they were under observation by all, Ray settled into his undercover roll. He described the antics of the last three days of filming. Half the crew were their own people from B Squad and most had to quick study their parts. The real photographers were ready to pull hair at the low budget equipment they were forced to endure.

Jax, the only A Squad member besides Doyle himself, had taken on the jester role. He had left piles of cow manure for the crew to step in. Many had notes within stating that the Cow is everywhere.

Bodie laughed. The tales were funny but he found himself enjoying the animated face before him. Relaxed for the first time since the Sutter op, Bodie was glad for the down time this op could provide. The set up period would be beneficial for his partner.

A stray curl fell into Ray's eye and Bodie unthinkingly reached over and brushed it aside. Ray smiled his thanks and continued regaling his partner with his time before the camera.

They ordered sandwiches and beer and stayed well past the dinner hour.

Emma stayed on to help Charlie throughout the supper rush. Her most difficult moment came when Ray's crew entered and located Mr Doyle. After a brief conversation the lights seemed to go out of Mr Bodie's eyes. He gave gracious thanks for the libations and made his way to the door without looking back.

Just after the door closed behind Bodie, Ray Doyle stood, threw some money on the table and left in a hurry. All the pub's occupants could hear the shout of Bodie's name before the door closed behind Doyle. It was with great restraint that all the occupants didn't rush to the door to see what happened.

Emma Greene felt no such restraint. She followed the men outside and watched as Doyle caught up to Bodie outside her shop. She had no idea what was said, but under the street light she could make out Bodie's smile and nod. He got into his motor and drove away as Ray Doyle walked to his hotel, whistling. She'd have to wait until tomorrow. She popped back inside the pub to update them all.

---

Later that evening, Ray called Bodie.

"Hey, partner, this town may be the match for Cowley. Patrick and Stevens hung about after we left, they said that a lady came back in and announced that you were smiling as you drove home." He barked his laughter loudly.

Bodie chuckled along with him, "That'd be Emma Greene, the grocer."

"Town busybody," Ray said understanding.

Oddly, Bodie defended her, "Not that she noses into others' business, but she seems genuinely concerned about the lonely Mr Bodie. She never pushes at me to speak."

"Oh, Bodie's got an admirer," Ray teased.

"No sir, not like your Marge. Emma's only concerned about me; Marge wants your body." Bodie snickered.

Ray changed the subject, "Is a game on the box?"

"Manchester - Liverpool. Should've just started." Bodie flipped on the switch and sat back to watch.

They watched the game together via the phone and neither man thought it odd that they were on the phone for over two hours.

---

Bodie bid the cleaning lady a good morning as he left to meet Doyle for mid-morning tea. They had arranged to meet at the breakfast caf before they ended their conversation last evening. Bodie got a table and waited for his partner to arrive.

Bodie's tea had just been served when Doyle strolled in. He smiled as his partner sat down. The waitress returned with another cup of tea.

"When you takin' off?" Bodie asked casually after his fourth biscuit.

"Most of the crew left this morning. I'm due a break, so `ve decided to take my leave here. Rented a room for a couple of weeks. Discover what the area has to offer." Doyle explained.

Bodie brightened, "Hopefully, you'll find something to keep you interested."

"I see possibilities," Doyle smiled with a twinkle in his eye.

---

That afternoon, Bodie showed Ray the town and introduced him to the folks he knew. They had their evening meal at a nice restaurant and everyone in town agreed that Mr Bodie was courting Ray Doyle.

Where Mr Bodie stayed to himself, saying little, Ray Doyle was the opposite. He would stop and chat with everyone. Ray was meeting more people in town and was dragging Bodie with him. Bodie was loyal to Charlie's place and Ray just had his new friends meet with them there. Charlie didn't mind Bodie holding Ray's hand on top of the table. Emma loved it.

Emma was helping Charlie, something she seemed to do a lot when Bodie and Ray were there. When she saw Jason Foley enter, she wandered over to Bodie's table.

"Oh, Mr Bodie, you and Mr Doyle just have to meet Jason. He's been abroad and you haven't had a chance to encounter him yet." She lowered her voice and Ray had to lean closer to Bodie to hear. "He lost his partner at the beginning of the year. Took it hard. His Aunt had him in, he's just come home."

"What happened?" Ray asked brazenly.

"He was killed, robbed they say. Devastated poor Mr Foley." Saddened by the memory, she perked herself up by forcing an introduction.

Emma brought him over to the table and sat him down. Laughter at her bold move banished any awkwardness it might have created.

Bodie was pleased at Foley's acting, he didn't let on that he had already met the CI5 agents. They would now be able to work together without arousing suspicion.

---

While in town, the only sure way to speak without the fear of being overheard was in the park.

"I'm not sure our tech boys could rival a small town," Bodie commented as they sat down on the rug he had toted and set up the portable backgammon board.

"Yup, kids find it hard to get away with much." Ray spoke with real passion in his voice.

"Personal experience?"

Ray's head bobbed up and down, "When I was ten, stayed with an Aunt for the school period. We'd have fruit fights in the orchards, away from prying eyes, or so we thought. By the time we arrived home, everyone in town knew and just how much fruit was wasted. Had to work off the damage." Ray smiled as if the story evoked some good memories.

"Developed your aim at an early age, I see," Bodie quipped, but pleased at the shared moment of Ray's past.

Ray rolled the dice and moved his pips.

"I believe we need to move the relationship along. Don't have much experience to draw upon, this relationship dating," Bodie's voice implied that relationships were not his aim when dating. "So, I'm not sure it's any different from birds, but we have to become more...demonstrative."

"Kissing, touching..." Ray listed.

"And sex." Bodie looked blandly at his partner. They hadn't talked details yet.

Ray paused, trying to see past Bodie's mask. "You experienced?"

"Kissing, touching, sex? Yes, to all of the above." Bodie grinned with impudent charm.

Ray squinted at his contrary partner, "With male partners."

Truth time. "Sex, yes. Relationships, no."

Ray always marvelled, when pressed, Bodie would relay the truth without varnish.

"You?" Bodie asked in return.

"Same, less even. Little experimentation in art school."

"Blind leading the proverbial blind."

"Seems so," Ray cracked a genuine smile.

"So you gonna let me snog with you in public? Or is that too uncomfortable for you?" Bodie asked seriously.

"A public kiss would probably keep them from camping out under the bedroom window for awhile," Ray mused.

Bodie laughed. He noted that that though the question seemed answered, it wasn't.

"This is your courtship, mate, how do you want to play it?" Ray queried, curious.

Bodie tapped his lips with his fingers, "Suppose if I wanted to do it for real, I'd start gentle. Hard and fast, however pleasurable, seems fleeting."

Ray nodded in agreement.

"So, how about some more hand-holding and a few stolen kisses and this weekend have you back to the house?"

"Should work. We need to have Foley in after we get the full town breakdown and in-depth personal histories." Ray added as an afterthought

Bodie nodded before he sat back, grinning, "Gammoned you."

"Ah, hell." Doyle looked at his partner, "I know you used the conversation as distraction. What I owe ya?"

"A little practice," Bodie suggested without expectation, just hoping to needle Ray a bit.

Knowing very well what his partner was up to, decided to toss it back at him. "Yeah, sounds cheap."

"Cheap, eh?" Bodie moved around the game board and sat aside Doyle. He used his thumb to brush Ray's cheek before moving the hand behind his neck. Fingers in the auburn curls, Bodie tipped the head back and covered Ray's lips with his own.

The lips were gentle, touching lightly moving over Ray's with restraint. Bodie pulled back and looked into his partner's wide eyes.

"You win the birds with that?" Ray asked innocently with just the right amount of doubt.

Bodie's hand moved no less gentle, but his lips did. He covered Ray's with his own then traced them with his tongue. The taste was more than he expected and he repeated the action. Ray gave a semi gasp and Bodie used it to gain entrance inside. The lips beneath his parted in acceptance and Bodie explored. The teeth, the roof, the tongue, all were investigated. Bodie drew back when he heard the moan - he didn't know if he or Ray made it.

Breathing hard, Doyle spoke with new knowledge, "You win the birds with that."

Bodie placed the backgammon set under one arm and took Ray's hand with the other. Bemused with private thoughts, they walked back to town in a companionable silence.

That afternoon was spent taking pictures of the town folk. Under the guise of teaching the usually photographed man how to be the photographer, they were able to get many of the town folk to pose for the shots. Bodie draped his arms about Ray's shoulders to show the correct way to hold the camera; this garnered many warm smiles. They worked until supper, getting several rolls of film. Bodie knew that he'd be working late into the night developing.

They had a meal at Charlie's pub under the romantic eye of Emma and they could almost hear her sigh as they held hands.

Bodie walked Ray back to the hotel and for all the public to see, kissed Ray goodnight. Hands on either side of Ray's head, Bodie's blue eyes twinkled as he leaned in for the kiss. It picked up where the one in the park had left off. Ray's tongue was sucked right into Bodie's mouth, explored and caressed. Ray was breathing so hard he could hardly take a breath when Bodie lifted his head. Bodie brushed Ray's damaged cheek with his fingers and smiled.

"I'd swoon if I didn't think it would give you a big head," Ray told him.

"Which one?" Bodie replied saucily before he tuned and walked to his car.

Ray rolled his eyes and shook his head in amused disbelief.

---

Bodie called in while he developed the film. He was told that the revised town histories would be sent by messenger the following day.

He called Ray to update him and they planned to match faces in the afternoon. Wanting exercise, Ray suggested jogging the town perimeter in the morning. Each opening a lager, they made fun of a French film with subtitles on the box before calling it a night.

---

On the fifth day of their public courting, they had lunch with Jason Foley. They spent the rest of the afternoon with him labelling the people in their pictures.

Jason began hesitantly, not really knowing these men. "I know you're here as a favour, but if you want to be believable within the gay community, you need to intensify your relationship." He could see that he had the complete attention of both agents.

"In public?" Doyle asked.

"It's easy to see that you both are comfortable in each other's space, but you are lacking that sexual awareness that would be picked up by other guys."

"Other men can tell we aren't sleeping together." Bodie stated the obvious conclusion.

"Gay men, yes." Jason wondered if this was too much for the heterosexual agents.

"We'll work on it, then." Bodie's smile was lustful, but the look in his eyes was speculative for a quick second then all that could be seen was his usual expression that gave nothing away.

They agreed to meet next month officially when they would all be in town again. The agents were hoping that Foley would be better able to discuss the late Martin Fane. They needed to eventually create parallels with that relationship.

Bodie and Doyle walked back to Ray's room.

"Dinner out at the house tonight?" Bodie checked.

"Yeah. Takeaway?" Doyle offered.

"Nah, Mrs Hooper has left many frozen casseroles. Let's mix and match'em, sunshine."

"I'll bring the wine." Doyle confirmed.

"And extra clothes."

It may have sounded like a command, but Doyle heard the question and nodded his agreement.

Bodie kissed Ray at the door and left the way he came. He headed to the grocer's for salad makings and dessert.

Emma noted what her Mr Bodie was purchasing, "Dinner in tonight?" she asked with a smile.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Is he a vegetarian or something?" Emma inquired at all the rabbit food fixings.

"Or something," Bodie offered with a sly smile. "Mrs Hooper has left many a dish; don't want to scare Ray with my cooking right off."

"You ever need help with the cooking, just let me know, we'll impress him, love."

Bodie just smiled his thanks as he paid for his purchases. He headed home to await Ray.

---

Doyle arrived at five o'clock with two bottles of wine; he wasn't sure if he'd need the extra fortification. Foley's words played over in his mind.

"Nice place, this," Doyle said as he wandered about the house, "This time you didn't draw the long straw."

"Two loos, and the shower is great," Bodie agreed as he followed Doyle into the kitchen.

"Any bugs?" Doyle looked over to his partner.

"None yet." Bodie exaggerated his blink, "But we haven't met the profile yet, sunshine."

"Talk to the Cow?"

Bodie picked up the phone and dialled. "3.7. Cowley there?"

"Nope. Alpha One will call you later," Murphy told him, "There's a political that you and 4.5 will have to come down for. Has to have the best."

Bodie could hear the smirking, he complained, "4.5 and I are already on assignment."

"Oh, yeah, the great photographer on break, hard put, I'm sure." Murphy didn't sound sympathetic.

"Tell the Cow we'll be in all evening." Bodie put the phone down, "There may be another assignment our way. The Cow is suppose to call."

"One undercover not enough?" Doyle pulled two pint bottles from the fridge and handed one to his partner. "May work out okay, looks like we're on location or something."

"Maybe we can look up some of the widowers." Bodie pointed to the folder files on the table.

"They weren't married, Bodie," Doyle corrected.

"Whatcha call `em then?"

Doyle shrugged. Changing the subject, "What did Ross say about our killer?" Doyle asked.

"Not much." His opinion of her clear in his voice, "Not a hate crime, she says, and not one of passion. That's all."

"Doesn't help much."

"Does she ever?" Bodie opened the newest folders that arrived by overnight. He passed half over to Doyle and they checked the updated information, then traded across.

"A town of twenty five hundred doesn't seem like much until you need to investigate `em all." Bodie mused as he read.

"Besides recording those that died since the last census, seems records was able to eliminate at least half the town, wrong demographics. Nice that. Less to work with."

"Well, being dead is as good excuse as any," Bodie grinned.

"Records ascertained that a hundred seventy five of them weren't in town for two or more of the killings and the others moved here after the first death as well," Doyle read aloud.

"Can't eliminate those."

"What? Killing one here, then move here to do more cause he liked it?" Doyle asked disparagingly.

"Seen odder." Bodie shrugged, unruffled.

"'K, will put them into a separate pile. What's left?"

"Around a thousand. Let's vet while we eat, I'm hungry."

Doyle laughed, "When aren't you?"

Bodie answered the comment airily, "Growing boy, I am."

Doyle watched as his partner walked into the kitchen, he couldn't help but wonder where Bodie put it all. He didn't seem to exercise enough to get rid of all the calories but he didn't carry any extra weight.

"Whatcha want? Several kinds of pies, steak `n kidney, meat, potato."

"How many are there?"

"Five."

"Put `em all in. Sample `em all that way."

"K."

Bodie fixed a salad, Ray sliced some bread before hunting for the wine glasses. They placed the folders in easy reach.

Bodie dug into his salad as he flipped through the lists. "Let's set aside the straight married couples."

"Can't rule `em out," Doyle cautioned.

"Know that. Just want some categories."

Doyle saw the logic and took half the stack to sort.

The oven buzzer went off and work was forgotten as the two partners sampled some of each pie. Doyle opened the wine and poured each a glass. They ate in a comfortable silence, enjoying the home-made food.

" 'Ave to let Mrs Hooper know we appreciated the pies." Bodie sat back satisfied.

"Were good," Ray agreed. "How'd you find her?

"Real estate office suggested her. Didn't want to do interviews." Bodie replied.

Doyle washed as Bodie dried and put away their dinner things. They took their wine glasses into the front room and began working in earnest.

It took another two hours to finish sorting the folders into the newly established categories: married, known gay and other.

They had also finished one bottle of wine. Doyle motioned to the other bottle and Bodie nodded.

After the cork popped, Doyle reminded his partner, "We need to discuss what Foley said."

"Sexual awareness." Bodie didn't bother pretending he didn't know what Doyle was on about.

"Yeah."

Bodie looked at his partner objectively. He was easy on the eyes most of the time, intriguing, in fact. Had a gracefulness about him that kept your eyes on him. His tight clothes left just enough for the imagination to play with.

He shook himself out of his reverie, "It's up to you, Ray. How much we do, if any. How far we go."

"Why up to me?"

Bodie shrugged, "You seem more vexed."

"What about you?" He threw it back onto Bodie.

"We've both bedded others for the job."

"But we're partners."

"Yes, makes it easier. Don't have to act with you."

Doyle wasn't sure how to take that.

Bodie sighed, "We need to look at each other with sexual eyes."

Doyle cocked his head to the side, eyes questioning.

No teasing, no amusement, just a serious, open expression as Bodie asked, "Do you trust me?"

"With my life," Doyle confirmed without hesitation.

"Let me show you then, may I?"

Doyle looked into Bodie's surprisingly candid eyes and nodded slowly.

Bodie unbuttoned Ray's shirt and took it off with Ray's help. Ray put out his hands to undo Bodie's, but his partner stilled them.

"Not yet. Watch... Ready?"

Curious, Doyle nodded. He was curious at his own lack of self-consciousness, half-naked with a fully clothed Bodie. He was also curious at what his partner would do, with eyes focused on Bodie, he watched as asked.

Bodie traced his hand over Ray's right shoulder. "I've touched you many times, but right now `m touching you just to feel your skin. To notice the differences in texture from here," he touched the ball of Ray's shoulder, "To here," he ran his fingers lightly to the middle of Ray's hairy chest.

"Your skin is smooth but furry, it's different, so I want to explore more," Bodie whispered.

Doyle was mesmerised, more by the verbal Bodie than the sensations his fingers were creating.

Bodie rubbed his fingertips back and forth through the chest hairs and ended with a carding motion. "I notice the reactive nipples, smaller than those I've played with of late, but still they draw my curiosity." He matched actions to his words as he chose the left one and played with it as though it was a new toy. He moved his fingers to the right nipple repeating all he had done to its mate.

Doyle was amazed at his body's reactions; it proved its delight by sending extra blood to his groin.

Bodie noted the bulge of arousal without outward reaction. He did walk Doyle backward to the wall to let him use it for support. He believed that Ray would need it. Bodie knew his partner had a sensual nature and when awakened his body would respond.

Bodie moved his fingers down the centreline of Doyle's chest and stopped at the navel. He skimmed it ever so lightly with his fingernails, but not in a tickling way.

Doyle gasped - he hadn't known that his navel could be an erotic spot. Birds didn't usually play there.

Bodie whispered into Doyle's ear, "Fingers can only convey so much and for complete awareness, I need more."

Without warning of what was to come, Doyle found Bodie's tongue in his ear. If it hadn't sent shots of fire through his body he might have said something. Instead, he leaned against the wall and waited, accepting the lesson in awareness.

Bodie licked Ray's neck and sucked at the junction of his shoulder, leaving his mark. Then his tongue traced all that his fingertips had done.

Doyle was surprised when Bodie's mouth latched onto his nipple. He'd thought they had peaked all they could - he was wrong. He found how much more erect they could become and they were not the only erect bits to be found. His jeans showed the outline of an extremely obvious bulge.

Birds never did this, he hadn't known this was how he could react, his mind tried to bend round this idea when Bodie latched onto and suckled his other nipple. He then forgot how to think.

By the time the moist tongue reached his navel, Doyle was unaware that his jeans had been opened. The eroticism of the tongue laving his navel, dipping in and out, excluded anything else from registering.

Bodie pushed down the jeans and pants just enough to expose the leaking erection and full testicles. He cupped and rolled the taut sacs as he sucked one last time on Ray's navel.

The moan of loss became a groan of need as Bodie closed his mouth over Doyle's hard sex. Bodie marvelled at the taste and texture. He acceded to his own need to know more, to fully taste the banquet that his partner provided.

The dual assault was more than Ray could take. He felt his orgasm build, burning as he unloaded all he had into the encompassing warmth, coming harder than he could remember. Suckled until there was no more on offer, he didn't remember sliding down the wall or being cradled in his partner's arms.

Bodie lost himself in the concentrated scent and taste of Ray's groin. It was all he focused on, so when Ray erupted into his mouth he swallowed instinctively. Ray's groan of joy at release pushed Bodie over his own edge unassisted.

He caught Ray as he slid down the wall, out on his feet. Bodie took a few steady breaths, then got Ray over to the sofa and closed his jeans. He went to the loo to clean himself.

The kettle whistle brought Doyle awake. Bodie fixed the tea then and carried the fresh brew into the front room and handed Doyle his cup.

Doyle watched Bodie, trying to frame a question when the phone rang.

Bodie answered, "Bodie."

"3.7, I need you and 4.5 back here on Wednesday."

Bodie mouthed Cowley to Doyle before he answered, "We're already on assignment, sir." He felt compelled to remind his boss of his forgetfulness.

"This is a short job and will work in fine within your larger mission. Eight a.m. Wednesday. Here." Cowley rang off without anything further.

"When?" the voice beside him asked.

"Wednesday morning."

"I'll leave Tuesday. We shouldn't be coming and going together just yet."

"We'll be able to hear the gossips all the way to London, we will."

"Betcha you hear `em here, mate," Doyle laughed.

"All ready can, sunshine, all ready can." Bodie chuckled, too. He sat on the couch across from Doyle and sipped his tea.

Doyle watched him lick a spot a tea from the edge of his mouth. Seeing the tongue action reminded him where that tongue had been and what it did. Bodie had been right, he was now aware of him physically. Ray looked at his partner, searching for something he couldn't identify. He spoke, hoping he'd figure it out, "Was good, Bodie."

"We aim to please," Bodie's voice and face gave nothing away, not even to the one who knew him best.

"We should go over this awareness thing," Doyle began, knowing he should reciprocate.

"Tomorrow, too knackered now." Bodie paused, he put all the casualness he could into his voice, "I can make up another bed or we could practice sleeping together."

"Don't need practice for that, mate, we've shared a bed many a time," Doyle scoffed as he reminded his partner of that fact.

Again, with the blandest of tones, "I was thinking more along the lines of "sleeping" together. No clothes, get comfortable with it." He got up to check the door locks and turn off the overhead light.

Doyle was set to complain, then thought how few times one saw Bodie uncovered. He may feel the need to `practice'. "Fine, but I want the right side of the bed, as usual."

Bodie moved to switch off the lamp. "Sleep on the left anyway." He walked to the door waiting for Doyle to follow. Together they headed to the master bedroom.

A smile touched the corner of Bodie's mouth as he watched his partner disrobe. The cast off clothes made a trail to the bathroom. Bodie picked them up, folding them before he laid them over the back of the chair next to his.

He waited his turn to shower and grinned in response to Ray's saucy expression as he raced past to dive under the sheets. Bodie thought about shaving but decided against it. He didn't want to have to get into that habit each night. Ray would have to get use to it.

He slipped between the covers and turned on his side, turning away from Doyle. Ray did the same, then they both shifted closer to the bed centre.

With backs touching, Doyle commented, "You're like a bed heater."

"Heard that before."

"'S nice," Doyle let sleep claim him.

---

Bodie woke because he couldn't move, both his arms and legs were tangled with Ray's. He stopped his own movements when the pleasure at the feel of Ray's body registered. He savoured the pleasure until he felt Ray waking. He watched Ray fight it, then when he finally conceded, he stretched sinuously and Bodie found he had to dampen his ardour at the sensual display.

After the stretch, Doyle grinned at his male bed partner, "There are perks to this assignment, I don't have to explain a morning hardie."

"That problem can be remedied in no time," Bodie replied affably just before he sucked in Doyle's cock to its root.

Doyle arched up and cried out in pleasure. As Bodie worked him, he wanted to think about why this got him going so fast but the thought process became difficult to hold on to. He grabbed the pillow instead and lost himself in the sensations taking over his body, clamouring for release. He emptied himself in three long pulses that left him drained.

Ray thought he heard the word `delicious', but it could have been a lingering memory from his dream. With a deep sigh, "I can't believe how good that feels." Doyle's eyes were closed and he missed the pleased expression on his partner's face.

With the taste and scent of Ray still fresh, Bodie jerked off in the shower. He didn't dwell on why the taste of Ray was such a powerful turn on; he just utilised it as he worked himself.

As he picked out clean clothes he couldn't help his pleased satisfaction in seeing that Ray was still out from his work. A stomach rumble sent Bodie in the direction of the kitchen.

Doyle woke to the aroma of coffee. After he showered and gobbled down the breakfast his partner had on the table they decided on a day outside but away from the town.

They drove about the countryside to familiarise themselves. Next, they hiked about, creating trails and establishing a running route. They tried it out that afternoon and the next three mornings.

During these morning runs, they talked. Their long-term familiarity, greatly enhanced by the newly added sex, spilled over into their communication. They both shared parts of their childhood never spoken of before to others. They spoke of good and bad memories of the initial forays into dating. After the laughter died down, they both extracted promises that these tales would not be spoken of elsewhere. They talked of teachers and past friends still held in high regard, of enemies not forgotten. They reached a new level in friendship that neither would be willing to easily give up.

They ate dinner in town and unexpectedly ran into Foley on Sunday night. He showed them the only real gay club in town, the Pendragon, a club that wasn't just a meat market.

After the waiter brought their drinks, Jason turned to the two CI5 agents. "I don't know how you did it, but you did. You guys sizzle. You two may get hit on here," Jason warned as some friends approached the table.

"Not a problem, we're in a relationship." Bodie told Foley, then smiled at the newcomers.

Jason made introduction, but they didn't stay long as Bodie played with Doyle's hair and Ray leaned into the caress.

Jason laughed, "If I hadn't met you blokes earlier this week, I'd never know."

Doyle nodded, "Thank you, mate." He took the compliment for them both.

Doyle confided that they would be out of town for a week possibly two, but that they would be working on the case, nonetheless. They reconfirmed their next meeting before they separated.

Ray left midday on Tuesday. Bodie helped him clear out his room and they made a public goodbye scene. Bodie stood off to the side as he watched Ray drive out of sight.

Emma took in the dejected figure of Mr Bodie and hustled out the door to intercept him. "Mr Bodie, I was just heading to Charlie's for a cuppa. Come with me." It wasn't a question but more in line of an order. Emma knew that she could get Charlie to brew her some tea.

Bodie let himself be dragged along. It's what Emma expected from him.

Bodie opted for a beer as Charlie placed a cup of tea in front of Emma. Bodie laid the money out but Charlie wouldn't take it.

Emma sipped her tea as she eyed the good-looking man across from her, she asked boldly, "He coming back?"

Bodie gave her a genuine smile, "Yes, Mrs Greene, Ray Doyle will return. He has a shoot in Paris. Actually, I leave tomorrow for London. I have a short assignment. I meant to take a longer break, and I still hope to do so."

Emma beamed. She was happy that Mr Bodie's Ray would be returning and that the reticent man had designed to share his plans as well. He was not known as their enigmatic loner for nothing.

---

Bodie just made it into Cowley's office by the eight o'clock deadline. Doyle handed over a hot coffee and Swiss roll. Bodie smiled his thanks as their boss launched into their additional assignment.

3.7 and 4.5 hated diplomatic babysitting. They considered it a waste of valuable time. They had to stand around looking menacing while at the same time they'd have to be accommodating. 3.7 could enjoy the menacing part and he left the accommodating part to his partner.

They used the slack time to continue the research into the Brentby town residents. Cowley had his staff locating the surviving partners, Peter Quinn, John Westfield and Gideon York.

Murphy and Jax would take the graveyard shift so Bodie and Doyle could catch some shuteye, but they had to stay at the hotel for that. Neither man got to sleep in his own bed.

The airport drop-off of their diplomatic responsibility found both men with genuine smiles upon their faces.

"Nearest pub?" Bodie asked as they neared the car park.

"You buyin'?"

"I'm buyin'."

"I'm drinking."

Bodie pulled onto the motorway. They drank, had supper then headed back to headquarters to finish up their reports.

Betty handed Doyle a folder before they entered Cowley's office. He flipped through it, "They found two of the three surviving partners. We can set up interviews." Doyle looked up at Bodie.

Bodie's nod showed his agreement to his partner's plan. He held the door open for Ray and closed it behind them.

Cowley grudgingly complemented their work and then asked what was taking so long on their other case. Bodie just grinned and Doyle explained that they had some interviews to conduct.

"Not in Brentby."

"No, sir. Bodie's still the town pet. The interviews are here in London with two of the surviving partners." Ray explained as his partner remained silent.

"Aye, fine then. What are you still doing here?"

Bodie stood, still smiling, "Running all the way, sir." He followed Doyle out of the office.

After arranging both interviews for the following day they each headed to their flats.

Looking forward to a night in his own abode, Bodie located an accommodating bird but found himself less than appeased. During inappropriate moments Bodie discovered that he missed the scent and taste of his own delectable partner. He slept alone for the rest of this stay in London.

---

Doyle honked. Bodie locked the door and hurried down to Doyle's vehicle. They stopped for coffee before heading to Manchester.

"What do we know about Westfield?" They had read a lot of bios, sifted through a lot of people, Doyle wanted to be fresh on the facts.

`Thirty nine, cardiologist, gay."

"Which dead man was his partner?"

"Gordon Bentley. Thirty five."

"What did he do?"

"Physical therapy. Different hospital than his paramour."

"And?"

Bodie sipped his coffee before he recited, "Gordon Bentley. Never been arrested, no parking tickets, upstanding family. Seems his only blemish was being bent."

"How exactly did he die?"

"Couldn't our serial killer establish a pattern?" he asked as he flipped through the doctor's reports. "This one was electrocuted in the bath."

"Nice."

Doyle stopped the Capri in front of a house in a quiet residential neighbourhood. While not ostentatious, it was an upscale dwelling.

Bodie exited the passenger side and stood at the front of the vehicle. He waited for his partner to radio their stop. He quickly checked out the rest of the neighbourhood, the different motors spoke of money. Doyle joined him and they walked to the front door.

Doyle rang the bell. The door opened almost immediately.

A slender blond man looked inquiringly at them.

"Mr Westfield? John Westfield?" Doyle asked politely.

"Yes, that's me," he nodded.

"We called. That's Bodie, I'm Doyle.

"Oh, yes, please, come in."

They followed Westfield across the foyer to a living room that could double as a sunroom.

"Tea? Coffee?" Westfield offered.

"Tea, thanks," answered Bodie.

"Tea's fine," Doyle seconded.

Westfield left them as he went to the kitchen to fetch the offered libations.

Bodie raised an eyebrow and Doyle answered with a shrug. They had expected a cardiologist to have a housekeeper.

The doctor returned with a tray laden with a teapot, cups, milk and sugar. He placed it on the teakwood coffee table and acted mother.

Taking his prepared cup, Bodie started. "At the time of York's death, you were living in Brentby?"

"Yes, we had a summer house." The memory seemed to take some of the light out of his eyes.

"Do you still live there?"

"No, I sold it...after. The memories there were particularly difficult."

"Oh, because that's where he died," Doyle stated sympathetically.

"Why do you ask?" Westfield asked, not wanting to drum up that painful time.

"We're looking into it," Bodie replied.

"Police?" The two men before him didn't seem like typical policemen.

"No, friends of Jason Foley." Doyle used some of the truth.

"Ah," Westfield understood Foley's political connections. "The local police took a report, but not much more."

"Why do you think?" Bodie feigned.

"Because, well, because he...we're homosexuals. The coppers didn't say so but they thought it was enough of a reason."

"Why did you have a home in Brentby?" Doyle made the inquiry casual.

"It was a comfortable place to live."

"Gay friendly?" Bodie probed.

"Yes, if you want to put it that way." Westfield shrugged, it had been comfortable, he hadn't thought on the why. His profession allowed him more freedom. As long as he could operate on problem hearts no one really cared how he lived.

"Who there seemed particularly interested in you?" Bodie continued the mild questioning.

Westfield smiled, "Emma Greene. She probably knows more than the police do about what's what in that town."

"The grocer, yes, lovely lady," Bodie agreed.

The cardiologist nodded and added, "Charlie Turnbill. He also keeps a close tab on the town. But, honestly, they were friendly ones, he and Emma, encouraged our custom."

"Exactly how did Gordon die? All the report said was electrocuted. Didn't say how." Doyle changed the line of questioning.

"Yes, he was electrocuted. In the bathtub... with a toaster."

"Toaster?"

"Yes, but the oddest thing was that Gordon abhorred toast. He liked buttered bread. The police didn't think it odd that a non-toast eating man would die by toaster. The fact that we didn't even own one was beside the point." His tone was quite dry.

"A kitchen appliance in the loo didn't raise the local copper's curiosity?" Bodie was quite dry himself.

"One policeman muttered it was probably a homosexual idiosyncrasy."

"Is it on the books as murder?" Doyle asked.

"No," this time the tone was bitter, "They said by accident or on purpose, meaning suicide." Westfield then sneered, "They said it couldn't be murder because I was out of the country."

Doyle frowned. Bodie's expression was non-committal, but his partner knew that his mind was sifting details.

"You were the only murder suspect." Bodie stated, wanting to draw Westfield out more.

"They claimed that it's usually a spurned lover that kills his lover." His inflection implied gay lover. "As I was in New York at a conference, they did check, they ruled out murder. They couldn't prove suicide, so they left it open."

"Did they now? Humm." Bodie's tone was purposely bland.

"Where that town might be lifestyle friendly, the local constabulary are not." Westfield added bluntly.

Doyle said nothing, but the pensive look told Bodie what he was thinking. Doyle hated bent coppers. It befouled the name of all coppers.

"Which is why we're looking into it," Bodie disclosed.

"What can you do?"

"Maybe tie the other suspicious deaths together and get a real investigation done." Doyle introduced the other deaths for reaction.

The doctor froze mid-action in pouring, his eyes squinted, "You mean Martin's death?"

"Yes, and Bradley Sorenson and Anthony Morton's as well."

"Four?"

"Yes."

The teapot thumped hard against the coffee table as Westfield nearly dropped it. His shock was evident as he made eye contact, "All gay men?"

"Yes. We actually believe it's the work of one person."

"A homophobic serial killer?" He was a tad incredulous.

"Possibly." Bodie gave nothing away.

"Why hasn't the media plastered this on the front pages?"

"They don't know about it, or haven't tied it together. We only looked into it because of Foley." Doyle was honest about how they got involved.

Westfield looked at the two men as he thought over the ramifications of this startling information. "Ask whatever you like, anything to help you. My word!"

"Actually, what might be best, would for us to speak with the other partners and then compare notes for similarities."

"Collectively, we hope to draw parallels, find a pattern, maybe some reasons, then we can stop a future death."

"You think there will be another?" Westfield didn't want to believe it.

"There could be. A serial killer will most likely want to kill again." Doyle told him honestly.

"That's what we hope to prevent." Bodie stated simply.

"How can I help?" Westfield offered.

"What we do need now, your word that you won't speak of this to anyone." Doyle implored.

Affected by the serious demeanour of both men, John Westfield agreed.

With a promise of an update and future conversation for help, the CI5 agents headed to their next interview. Gideon York.

Gideon York was what Bodie would call flamboyantly gay. He was just short of lisping with a bent wrist. His high energy and cheerfulness made him hard to dislike.

He ushered in Jason's friends and without asking, served tea, chatting all the while he prepared it.

Cup in hand he asked, "And you're here because...?"

Doyle smiled, he liked the exuberant young man. "Jason thought you might be able to help us."

Gideon looked pointedly at the two good-looking men and shook his head, "You two don't need dates, you're already together."

Bodie's smiled never faltered, but he examined the man before him more closely. He may appear addled or flighty, but his eyes were sharp, he had read their body language. He already knew it wasn't a social call.

"We think that Sorenson was killed by the same person that killed Fane."

"Bloody hell!" York put his cup down and looked speculatively at Bodie, then Doyle. "You don't seem like policemen."

"We're not exactly. Jason came to us. He was bothered at how Martin's death was handled." Doyle confessed a version of the truth.

"Oh, like a man gets hung by a belt in his own wardrobe with his wrists bound and it's considered suicide?" The sarcasm leaked through clearly into York's voice.

"Yeah, something like that," Bodie answered ruefully. He looked at his partner, "All that was not included in the official police report."

"How was it considered a suicide? A note?" Doyle asked York for clarification.

"No, coppers claimed erotic asphyxiation. It didn't matter that Bradley didn't go for that. He was gay and it was enough for them. They thought I was trying to protect a non-existent honour. Damn, I hated those coppers." York sat back considerably subdued.

Bodie took out his note pad as Doyle asked, "Tell us what you can remember about the crime scene."

York brightened, "That sounds so fucking official. I love it and it's such a turn on. It's too bad you fellas are already together. Do you play about?"

"No, we're exclusive." Bodie declared rather forcibly.

"Pity."

"Were you and Brad?" Bodie asked. He could feel Ray's eyes on him and he didn't want to meet his inquisitive ones. He wasn't sure why he wanted to bust York's face for suggesting such a thing, and he surly didn't need his partner to read any of that on his face. He kept his eyes on Gideon York.

"Bradley. He hated the short version." York paused as he tapped his upper lip before answering, "Candidly, no. But we wanted it that way. We were a good match, could live together. There were times we wanted to be wild and bad, other partners kept things exciting. There was nothing stale in our love life."

"And you're sure Bradley felt this way, maybe he might have longed for...."

Before Doyle could finish Gideon broke in, "Not a chance, love. Ask around, he was one of the wildest. We were together because I could accept that part of him. We played, then came home to roost. It worked for us. I miss him."

Doyle glanced over at his partner and Bodie blinked slowly. Doyle knew that meant that his partner believed York. Bodie was good at that.

"Right, then. The crime scene, you found him." Doyle pushed on.

York nodded as he slumped deeper into his chair.

Bodie broke in seeing that they were about to lose York to his despair. "Imagine the scene but don't look at the body. What did the rest of the room look like?"

York brightened somewhat as he tried to play. "It was a specialised dressing room. Lights were off. Very neat and orderly." York took a deep breath, "Except where Bradley was."

"What was the other end of the belt attached to?" Doyle queried.

"The umbrella hook."

"Eh?" Doyle raised his brows.

York waved his hand high in the air, "We had several high hooks for our umbrellas. To keep them out of the way." At the puzzled looks he stood, "I'll show you." He led them upstairs to the bedroom wardrobe. "We had several there. I only have the one here. Bradley had many umbrellas, to match his clothes."

The CI5 men noted the strong simple hook situated close to the ceiling.

"And the belt was hanging off it? Not the usual place for a belt?" Bodie inquired.

"Umbrellas have long stems, easy to place and retrieve. A belt? Need a ladder, love." York turned off the lights and led the agents back down to the front room. "It wasn't suicide."

With assurance that they could return with additional questions the CI5 men returned to London.

---

Bodie picked up his partner the following morning. The newly attached tow-hitch fit perfectly with Ray's bike trailer. They were bringing two motorbikes to Brentby.

First stop in town was the grocers to pick up the post. Bodie entered with his arm about Ray's shoulders. They both thought they could hear Emma's sigh of delight.

Emma was indeed very pleased to see the returning resident with his lover. She was hoping that his solitary days were over. She hit them with a barrage of questions and they responded with their rehearsed answers. After she had ferreted out enough details to satisfy the others she bestowed Bodie with sandwich fixings and a fresh baked pie.

They got the motorbikes off loaded first thing and then unpacked their clothes. Doyle had brought up a lot more clothing for an extended stay this time.

They searched for additions that weren't CI5 sanctioned. Both came up empty.

"I'm hungry, mate, "Bodie complained.

"When aren't you?" Doyle chided.

Rolling his eyes as his only answer, he asked instead, "How `bout a public picnic? Use the food that Emma gave us."

Doyle shrugged and figured that they may as well jump back into their characters on a full time basis. "Lead on, McDuff." With an elaborate hand flurry, Ray indicated that Bodie precede him.

Bodie parked the Ghia at the edge of town and waved to those that greeted him. A few called out greetings to Doyle, also, and he returned them exuberantly.

"Spent too much time with York, you did, that was just like him." Bodie told his partner teasingly.

Ray chuckled throatily, " `Tis what I was aiming for, mate."

"Done yourself proud."

"Do you get the feeling we're being watched?" Doyle asked, looking about casually.

"All the time, mate. Hard not to in this town."

"Really being watched."

A nod, "Yeah, that feeling that the hair on the back of your neck is on end. Had it since we got into town. Somebody's finally taking note."

"But who? The people seem decent, no one stands out." Frustration was evident in the whispered voice.

"We just have to look at it differently."

"Start fresh when we get back to the house." Doyle received a nod from his partner.

Bodie grabbed the picnic things in one hand and Doyle's hand in the other. They picked their way across the meadow and stopped just as they hit the grove of trees.

Bodie set up the rug so he could lean his back against a tree trunk. It would allow him visibility to check the way they'd come without seeming obvious about it. He passed his partner the sandwiches and pickles as he opened their lagers.

"This is a nice town, it is hard to believe that one of these folks is a serial killer."

"You know as well as I that looks can be deceiving," Bodie told him as he checked the area without turning his head.

Doyle scoffed, "You've got most of the town wrapped around your finger already." Doyle teased him further, "I think they'd marry you off if they didn't think you were bent."

"I haven't chatted up anyone here, "Bodie answered indignantly.

" `Em sure plenty have tried it on with you."

Bodie nodded reluctantly, "A few."

Doyle grinned, "They think you've been hurt and retreated. I've been warned a dozen times already; Mr Bodie's a special one, don't hurt `em," he mimicked.

Bodie chuckled aloud, but he found himself hoping the same thing himself, though he wasn't sure why.

They ate most all the food provided. Bodie put the leftovers into the cooler and suggested a walk along the forest edge. He grabbed Doyle's hand.

Doyle pulled it back, "You don't have to do that here, mate."

Bodie put his hand out again, "We know we're being watched. It's what I'd do if I was doing it for real."

Doyle shook his head at the affected pouty look and held out his hand. Bodie took it, pulled him up and close to his side.

Ray Doyle found himself amazed once again at his partner's diverse knowledge. Bodie pointed out the birds, the ones with real feathers and added some natural history.

Bodie stepped up behind Ray and draped an arm over his shoulder as he pointed out a badger he wanted him to see through the field glasses. He whispered in his ear, "I've seen a glint off glass three times in the last quarter hour.

"You sure we're the ones under watch? Not one of those fine creatures you were pointing out?"

"Humm," he nosed just under Doyle's ear, "That would be my guess." He turned Ray's face toward his and kissed him.

Not a passionate kiss, just a lazy investigation. Tongues danced without duelling. Taste was shared and curiosity indulged, as in turn, each explored the other.

Bodie brought his hand up to Ray's neck, he caressed it, then with spread fingers, moved up into the auburn curls. The taste and scent of Ray filled Bodie, he felt he'd been without it for too long and the easy kiss changed as passion infused it. His heart rate quickened, his blood flowed faster and his cock filled. He felt Ray's hand clutch his neck and Bodie realised he wanted to eat Ray Doyle.

For all his enjoyment, Bodie couldn't forget they were being watched. He didn't want to lose control with an audience. He broke the kiss and hugged Ray, asking in a whisper, "Can you pick out anyone?"

Neither could. Bodie pointed out wildlife in every direction as they checked the area more closely. Unsuccessful, Bodie led his amused partner back to their rug. He pulled out another lager for both him and Ray before sitting down. He leaned his back against the tree and pulled Ray between his legs. Ray's back against his chest, Bodie pulled him closer and pointed to a visible bird's nest.

Bodie enjoyed the feel of Ray pressed back against him, it felt like home. He didn't want to analyse why, he just savoured the feeling.

Ray was sleepy and he leaned back against the comfortable backrest that Bodie made.

Bodie whispered by his ear, "We're still being watched."

"Humm," was the only reply.

Bodie gave into impulse and nuzzled Ray's face before he kissed his temple. "A small demo?" Bodie asked as Ray shifted closer.

"Sure."

Bodie teased Ray's ear with his tongue. Ray pushed back against him and exposed more of his neck for consideration. The contact, the surrender, both excited Bodie on a higher level. He felt himself swell, pressing tightly against the zipper of his trousers.

He turned Ray's head and claimed his lips. Cradling Doyle's head on his shoulder, he explored the open mouth, searching for what gave Ray the most pleasure. The taste quickly captured him and he plundered the moist warmth ravenously.

Bodie was on the edge of losing himself in Doyle and he didn't want to relinquish all control, so he concentrated on just Ray's pleasure. With that focus, he could prevent his taking of Ray right there in the meadow and staking his claim.

His hand moved inside Ray's shirt, caressing the furry chest. He teased the nipples to taut peaks and travelled the lines and plains of his chest and abdomen. Bodie sucked Ray's ear lobe before nibbling the exposed neck. As he tongued the throat base, his hand moved downward to palm the visible bulge in the tight fitting jeans

No motion or sound stopped him, so Bodie worked the jeans closure open and slipped his hand inside. Doyle reacted instinctively, moving into the hand, striving for more contact.

The little mews from Doyle told Bodie that his partner was lost in the sensations. Bodie gripped Ray's hard erection in his hand as though it were his own. He knew where to touch, how to touch to get the most pleasure. When the moans turned to groans of real need, Bodie stopped playing and worked the slick hardness seriously.

He pulled Ray tighter to him, letting Ray set the rhythm as he rocked into his hand. Ray threw back his head in orgasm, pushing hard against Bodie's crotch as he pulsed into the enveloping hand.

Drained, he relaxed back against his partner, lost in the climatic aftermath. Doyle was unaware that his explosive orgasm triggered Bodie's own climatic release. Bodie licked his hand clean, loving the taste of Ray. While his sated partner dozed, Bodie cleaned Ray with several napkins and closed his jeans.

The feeling of being watched was gone and the experienced lover realised as he nuzzled behind his partner's ear that this interlude had been one of the most intense of his life. Not given to too much introspection, Bodie shelved it away for later. He dozed with Doyle firmly in his arms.

---

A small demo? Doyle didn't want to think about it. He put it down to his undercover ability of staying in character. He didn't want to dwell on the fact that he came, loudly, in possible public view and he hadn't cared one wit. Instead, he pushed his thoughts to the assignment: this at least should put them on somebody's list. Sleepy, he snuggled deeper into the warm embrace.

They woke to a waning sun and chilly air. They gathered their belongings and headed back to the car.

As they loaded everything into the boot, Doyle noted the companionable silence. Bodie was different than a bird. He laughed at himself, of course Bodie was different than a bird, but he meant he was different in his reactions. Most birds would want to be talking about it. The afternoon interlude was just that and it didn't need a lot of deep pondering. A bird wouldn't let it go, but Bodie would, he'd never speak of it. A good mate he was, he'd make sure they got as many perks out of this assignment as he could.

He was ignoring the fact the he couldn't stop thinking about it, dealing with how easy he got off. He hadn't been that randy, so he shifted his thoughts to Bodie once more. He couldn't recall if his partner had got off, wasn't like him to forget that part. He was distracted from his thoughts by the sound of the garage door opening. They were back at the house.

Bodie headed for the shower as Doyle put the leftover food away. When Bodie emerged with water drops still on his neck, Doyle asked, "Wanna go for a run?"

Bodie shrugged and said, "Sure." He donned his running clothes and met up with a stretching Doyle out back.

They ran the route they'd set up the last time. A companionable run that helped keep their bodies toned. Bodie kept his thoughts focused on the run itself; Doyle's thoughts scattered about through a myriad of topics. He settled on work.

"We need to interview Foley."

"You know what the Cow said," Bodie reminded his partner.

"Yeah, yeah, treat him with kid gloves, but we need more details. It's obvious that the police reports have left out more than they convey."

"You noticed that, did you?" Bodie didn't have a high opinion of the police.

"Yeah, yeah, but they're not bent," Doyle thought he should point out.

"Just homophobic and lazy."

"What about the coroner's court hearing? That should have taken place, it was an unexpected death." The ex-copper knew procedure.

"It was ruled accidental, so a hearing probably took place," Bodie reasoned. "Maybe they didn't bother with a report?"

"So we talk with Foley? Maybe he knows of a report, " Doyle went back to his original topic.

"Yeah, we talk with Foley."

They would have to be patient. They put in a call as soon as they returned to the house, but Foley was out of town on business and wasn't due back for a fortnight. They had to wait and play lovers on holiday.

The days took on a pattern. Breakfast, a run and lunch in town. They talked with different folk each day and always ended up at Charlie's. Emma would be there, too, and she'd kept them abreast of all the current comings and goings. Afternoons were spent motorbiking, hiking or just a light workout in Bodie's spare bedroom that had been turned into an exercise room. Not quite gym calibre but enough to keep both men occupied.

Evenings were spent in town or eating takeaway in front of the box. There were a few home-cooked meals left by Mrs Hooper. After Bodie's sincere thanks, he had found new casseroles each week. They did manage to squeeze in reading the town profiles but were no further along in their investigation.

Doyle enjoyed the break. He thought that Bodie was looking rested as well. They had come off a long series of ops and this extended case was allowing for some downtime.

The only difficulty was being watched and having to stay in undercover character all the time. This led Ray to an area of thought he was trying to avoid.

Each time he woke, middle of the night or morning, he found his groin covered by Bodie's hand. The thumb and index ringed his cock, flaccid or full and the rest of the hand gently cupped his testicles. Their legs were usually entwined and a nose was pressed against his neck. Even in sleep like this, it was as if Bodie was protecting him.

It was now a morning ritual and it was exquisite. Doyle always feigned sleep, afraid that if he woke first it would be broken. No words were spoken and they didn't speak of it during the day. It was all part of the undercover.

The sensations were like none other before and he didn't know how to explain it to himself, but he was hedonist enough not to deny himself this pleasure.

His morning erection, fuelled by Bodie's fingers, was hard and leaking each time. The thumb movement would spread the moisture about the head, as Bodie's tongue would work its way down from his neck. The tongue would tease his nipples as it passed his chest.

The slicked thumb would move to cover the darkened vein and pressed just enough to elicit a moan but not enough to satisfy. Ray's hips would arch up, seeking more. Bodie always took his time. His tongue continued its downward path, exploring all the way.

Then the moment that happened each time, and each time like a surprise, Ray's sex was swallowed deep into Bodie's mouth. `How does he do this?' always floated at the edge of conscious thought, but he would quickly be lost in the sensations the activity wrought.

The sucking action, the tongue swirls, all designed to make the recipient lose it. And Ray did, he never lasted as long as desired. He'd arch up one last time with a heartfelt groan and give up all he had to Bodie's willing mouth. Each time it left him boneless and each time he could find nothing to complain about.

---

It was well into the fourth week back that Doyle had to face that he was a selfish bastard. In the two months plus that he had been actively involved with this op he had not once reciprocated in their sex acts. He hadn't even stopped to check if Bodie was getting off. A bird would have shot him by now.

He couldn't figure why Bodie hadn't said anything, but then as he thought on it, Ray Doyle realised that Bodie always put up with more from him than anyone else. Bodie really was his best mate. He'd have to ask him why.

---

"Figured you couldn't. Not all blokes can." Bodie's voice held no censure.

Doyle opted for some honesty. "You lay me out flat. By the time I hit ground, the bed's empty. Didn't think I should shout, hey, you want me to make ya come? Figured one or both of us would be embarrassed."

Bodie's look didn't tell Ray anything.

He plodded on, "Regardless of what it seems like thus far, I don't want to just take pleasure, I want to give it, too." Doyle saw, but couldn't interpret that flash of emotion that crossed the impassive face before it was gone.

"Told you, what we do is up to you," Bodie reminded his partner in an off-hand manner.

"Then, I want to."

Bodie shrugged before moving to the kitchen, trying to show an indifference he was far from feeling. He found he craved for Doyle's hands to caress his body. He held himself in firm check while Ray deliberated. He didn't hear Ray move up behind him.

Doyle placed a hand at his partner's back, jerking Bodie back to the present.

"Come to bed, Bodie. Let me show you I mean what I say." Doyle led his partner to the bedroom.

Ray felt an urgency to complete this. It puzzled him. Was it because he was afraid that he'd chicken out? Did he have something to prove to Bodie? That he was just as capable of doing whatever necessary undercover as was Bodie?

Doyle didn't really think so. Yes, he was competitive, even petty at times, but that didn't seem to be what was driving him. Was it just curiosity, then?

Possibly.

Doyle thought of himself as having a sensual nature, and pleasures of the flesh, as long as consensual, had few boundaries. But, and it was a big but, he had not dabbled much into same sex liaisons. Too much baggage and secrecy involved. He had been honest with Bodie as to his lack of real experience in that area.

But truth told, Bodie had elicited some intense reactions from him, so there must be more to same sex passion than he had estimated.

Doyle knew he was a fast learner and he could duplicate anything that Bodie had tried on him. The smell wouldn't detract, but he wasn't sure he could swallow. He'd chance it though, for Bodie.

Bodie removed the quilt from the bed and the corner hit Doyle's calf, jostling him out of his reverie. Ray found himself staring at an aroused Bodie.

"Shouldn't be anything you haven't seen before, sunshine." Bodie knew Ray had been lost in thought. Probably trying to marshal the courage to follow through on his own suggestion.

"You keep telling me you're gorgeous and I was just double checking your facts." Doyle smiled and beckoned Bodie to bed.

Doyle was again surprised at how hot Bodie made him in such a short time and set out to return the favour.

He started with touch. He ran his hands down Bodie's torso, down his legs, just skimming his testicles and bobbing erection.

Bodie responded with gasps and throaty sounds. Doyle couldn't believe how pleased he was by that. He worked at getting more. He used his tongue next, behind the ears, down the neck, across his shoulders, coming to a stop at the protruding nipples.

He laved them slowly, as though a cat, he sucked, nipped and licked as if he had to inspect every curve of the jutting bud. He treated its mate to the same extensive examination before travelling south.

In his first few forays in art school Doyle had always used his hand. He'd used his mouth on the birds but this was different and he hoped he didn't blow it now. He was amused by his own pun and absentmindedly licked at the escaping moisture.

The reaction of the body beneath his was more than he could have hoped for. Timidity forgotten, he guided the entire head into his mouth. Ray cupped the taut sacs as he drew more in. On his second deep suck with an added tongue swirl, Bodie erupted with several long, hard pulses. Doyle swallowed at first but couldn't keep up and half the fluid seed spilled out, flowing between Bodie's legs.

Ray was pleased with himself, it hadn't tasted bad at all and Bodie's vocal pleasure had made it well worth the effort. Bodie's response of yelling his name left Ray fever-pitched and he moved to thrust against Bodie's thigh to bring himself off.

Bodie shifted him up, "Like this." His throaty voice arousing Ray more.

Bodie trapped Ray's cock firm between his semen-coated thighs and squeezed hard. Ray groaned and rocked in the tight channel that Bodie created. He set his own rhythm and it didn't take much. His own climax was explosive and he collapsed atop his partner without thought of comfort.

Ray went from a sated state to a deep sleep. Bodie shifted his partner off and padded to the bathroom to get a wet flannel. He cleaned Ray and himself before snuggling into his partner's backside.

---

The splatter of rain on the shutters woke Bodie. He stretched his calves, trying not to disturb the still slumbering form next to him. The movement didn't wake Ray, just caused him to snuggle closer, burrowing his face into Bodie's neck.

The ex-mercenary sighed; he knew he was in big trouble. He now had a serious, even dangerous situation to contend with.

He was happy.

He was undercover, playing a part. This wasn't real, but his being didn't care. He was content and happy.

He was in deep shit.

He could get up and fret or he could continue to lie with Ray in his arms for as long as it lasted. He chose the later. He moulded himself even closer to Ray and fell back asleep.

---

The front door opening had both men reaching for guns that weren't there. Bodie shushed Ray and cocked his head, listening.

"Mrs Hooper. Cleaning lady." He turned to look Ray in the eyes, "Ready to be discovered, sunshine?"

"If getting off in a meadow midday didn't tarnish my rep, being in bed with my lover certainly won't."

"That episode wasn't spread about town, this will be," Bodie warned.

"Well, let's make it a good showing." Doyle's grin was naughty and lascivious.

"I'm up for that," Bodie deadpanned.

Doyle racked his eyes over his bedmate, "I can see that."

Doyle took the lead. He stretched out atop Bodie, moving enough to spread the leaking pre-come for slick movement. He kissed Bodie, exploring the other's mouth uninhibitedly, discovering unknown treasures.

Bodie gripped Ray's buttocks, pulling their groins closer, Ray controlled the rhythm and they moved as one.

The trained professionals were so lost within the sensations that neither noticed the door open or their audience.

Mrs Hooper stood silently and watched, wondering if they'd take note of her presence. After a full minute, she picked up the waste paper basket and left the room, closing the door behind her.

She had dusted the front room, cleaned the kitchen and was starting the laundry when the two freshly shaved and dressed men entered the kitchen.

Bodie spied the fresh baked treats and exclaimed as he reached for one, "Cinnamon rolls, ah, what a treasure you are, love." He gave her a full watt smile before he stuffed his mouth.

Mrs Hooper smiled her indulgence as they scarfed down her treat.

Ray thanked her as he made the tea. "You spoil him, these are his favourites."

" `E could do with a bit of spoilin', see that you remember that, laddie."

Ray nodded, feeling like he had been warned yet again by another member of this town.

After the housekeeper headed for the bedroom for the rest of the laundry, Ray turned to his partner, "Just what did you do to make this whole bloody town so protective of you?"

"Just my natural charm, sunshine," Bodie sounded very self satisfied. "And it's only part of the town."

Doyle stopped pouring and looked directly at his partner.

Bodie shrugged and added with a soft voice, "I played the lonely man, didn't talk to hardly anyone."

"No chat ups?"

"None, I was waiting for you, I was."

"I can see your taste is finally improving." Doyle handed Bodie his tea and another cinnamon roll. That ended the immediate conversation.

They yelled their thanks and good-byes to Mrs Hooper, then headed to town for their meet with Foley

---

Jason Foley still found it difficult to talk about his partner's death. He couldn't speak Martin's name without his voice breaking. Both Doyle and Bodie used more tact than usual for either.

"Jason, we've learned from speaking with Westfield and York that the police reports were less than complete. We need details only you can provide." Doyle appealed to the person that started this whole investigation. "Was a coroner's court hearing held?"

"Yes, if you could call it that. The District Chief Inspector presented it as though the findings were in cement. The judge concurred." Foley's tone doubted the veracity of those findings.

"The press must have been present?" Bodie inquired.

"Yes, but the local press just ran a one liner about the toaster. You see, Lord Donavan Ratcliff stole the headlines as he and his entourage stayed in the area that week." Foley said with a pompous air.

"Can you recall the details of the day?" Doyle asked, hoping for a break through.

Foley turned his head away as if he could escape the memory.

Bodie tried the technique that he had on York. "Imagine the scene but don't look at the body. How did the room appear?"

"Neat and orderly...except where Martin was, but even that, in retrospect was not untidy," Foley remembered.

"Eh?"

"Except for Martin and the horse, nothing was out of place."

"The horse?"

"A bronze statuette of his first horse. Always sat on the shelf closest to his shoulder," Jason clarified, "Only gift his parents ever gave him ... after they knew." Lost in the memory, it took a cough to regain his focus, "It was on the desk instead of the shelf." Jason covered his face while he controlled his emotions.

Bodie cocked an eyebrow, "You don't think...?"

Doyle was already nodding, on the same wavelength as his partner, "Yes, I do, mate." Doyle turned to the distraught man. "Jason, we need to go to the scene. Think you can handle it?"

Foley took a steadying breath, "Yes, I need to do this. I closed off that room, haven't been in it since the police cleared out. I want the person responsible punished."

Bodie and Doyle followed Foley to his home.

Foley's house was nice without being pretentious. He led them straight through to the master bedroom. Other than being dusty, it was immaculate.

"Sorry about the mess, I've only been back at the house because of the CI5 involvement. I'm not really living here, after this is settled I'm selling it. Too many memories," Foley explained as he looked out the window.

"Where's the horse?" Bodie asked after searching with his eyes and not locating it.

Foley moved to the desk, opened the centre drawer and extracted a key to open the left side. "I put it away. It was important to Martin."

"Did the police take it in?" Doyle inquired as he watched his partner examine it.

"No. Asked me to get it out of the way." Foley shrugged.

"Where did you find him?" Bodie asked as he moved about the large room.

"In the middle of the floor. Not close enough to have knocked himself out on any of the furniture as the police suggested."

"I thought it was a robbery?" Doyle remembered what was on the police report.

"Well, nothing was taken. The DC on duty said it was most likely an accident since nothing was missing."

"He accidentally hit himself on the back of the head with a bronze horse." Bodie shook his head in bewilderment.

"Did they know your connections?" Doyle thought not and Foley confirmed it. "Did they even conduct a murder investigation?" Doyle was visibly upset.

Bodie moved closer to his partner to run interference if necessary.

"It was ruled death by unknown misadventure. No instrument of death was found. On the official report death by unknown blunt force."

To distract Doyle from a rant about incompetent coppers, Bodie took out the only crime scene photo of the dead man. He concentrated on the wound. "Check the horse."

Doyle picked up the bronze stallion and looked at it closely before turning it on its side to compare the shape with the photo.

The CI5 men took in the statue and photo and silently agreed that this was indeed the murder weapon.

"We need to take this," Doyle explained, "We think this may be the murder weapon."

"Dear god. Yes, of course, take it." He looked away, "Damn."

"Did you ever get the impression you were being watched?" Bodie asked, again refocusing Foley.

"Frequently. I was never sure if it was due to my job, or Martin's or a gossipy thing or just a gay thing. We ignored it most of the time. Have you?"

"Yup, we're hoping someone has taken the bait, so to speak," Bodie confessed .

---

Jason gave them his private number. He was heading back to London; he had a case that needed his attention. Doyle figured that being at the house was too much for him.

"Bloody hell, Bodie, it's not making any sense. We're getting nowhere."

Bodie swung into traffic ignoring his partner's irritated tone. "We've got more than we had with just the police reports."

"Oh, now your gonna start with the bent coppers. Blame the whole thing on them, why don't ya?" Doyle vented his frustration on his usual target.

Bodie felt like ragging back, but that would have had the opposite effect desired, so he diverted his ire instead.

"We need to question Peter Quinn."

"Why hasn't he been found? We need to find some kind of pattern and the three we have talked to haven't provided any leads."

"Cluedo," Bodie smiled.

"Pardon?" Thought process broken, he sifted his memory for what Bodie had said. "Clues? Sadly lacking."

"No, Cluedo, board game. Colonel Mustard, in the drawing room with the rope. Sounds similar to our case."

Doyle shook his head, "You're a moron," then his expression changed as he played with Bodie's idea, "Yeah, we should."

Bodie couldn't believe that Ray wanted to break out a board game so he waited patiently instead, "Should?" he prodded.

"Yeah, like Walsh's puzzle board. Room, manner of death, et cetera, et cetera." He waved his hand around.

"Okay, Sherlock, let's set one up."

Bodie pulled into the driveway and Doyle led the way inside the house.

They worked all of the afternoon and early evening setting up their version of a puzzle board. Doyle put on the last of known information before he turned to his partner.

Bodie looked it over and read it aloud. "We have Gordon Bentley, electrocuted with a toaster in the bathroom. Was in an open gay relationship and lived in Brentby at the time of his death. The surviving partner, John Westfield."

Doyle read the second one aloud, "Bradley Sorenson, strangled with a belt in the wardrobe. Was in an open gay relationship and lived in Brentby at the time of his death. The surviving partner, Gideon York."

Bodie finished up the last. "Martin Fane, bludgeoned with a bronze statue in the bedroom. Was in an open gay relationship and lived in Brentby at the time of his death. The surviving partner, Jason Foley." Bodie cocked his head to the side, "I think we're dealing with a nutter, no logic this."

"Just a homophobe. Well, we need Anthony Morton's details. We know he was stabbed. We must find Peter Quinn. Morton was the first, maybe we'll see a pattern then, besides the obvious." Ray studied the board.

"It'd make a great Cluedo game, new version." Bodie picked up the phone and dialled a memorised number. "3.7. Records, please." He waited while his call was transferred. "Janice, be a dear and mark finding the whereabouts of one Peter Quinn urgent. Thanks, love." Bodie put down the phone and looked at his partner, "I'm hungry."

"There's a news flash."

"Takeaway or eat out?" he asked thinking about how much he had in his wallet.

"Eat out. Dress up a bit. We should make a showing at the Pendragon. Going without Foley would be more natural."

"Okay, there's a game later." He was hoping to catch the Liverpool match.

"We don't have to stay long, get a pint, some food, be seen."

Bodie agreed to the merit of his partner's suggestion.

Bodie dressed all in black, head to toe. His leather jacket the only break because of its gleam. Doyle's lower extremities were encased in tight black leather, his upper in a silk shirt the color of his eyes.

They ate at Charlie's. Bodie figured that Emma must have the place under surveillance, because before they sat themselves down she was putting on an apron. She had their usual order in before they could place it. Charlie just chuckled and shrugged when Doyle looked at him inquiringly.

She brought their pints over and sat next to Bodie. She sipped her tea before asking, "How's Jason doing. He and Martin," Emma shook her head, "They were so good together. I know it's been real hard for him." She looked expectantly at her new favourite.

"Misses him something dreadful. He's thinking of selling and living in London." Bodie confessed to her, but he had the feeling that she already knew.

"Hate to lose him, but it would probably be best for him. Memories here would be hard to replace." Emma sipped her tea absentmindedly as she looked from Doyle back to Bodie. "John sold out and hasn't been back."

"John?" Doyle feigned ignorance.

"John Westfield. Last year he lost his partner. Sold their home and never returned. Hope he's doing okay." Emma sighed, she missed Gordon.

"He run away with the milkman?" Doyle played dumb. He was ready to kick Bodie under the table to wipe the amused grin off his face.

"Died. In the bathtub of all places. Poor Mr Westfield, he took it hard." Emma looked at Doyle and was satisfied that he seemed taken aback by the news. She hoped that he was doing right by Mr Bodie, she didn't want to see that one hurt.

"Accident? Were the police involved?" Ray figured that the town busybody might know something.

"Yes, police said an accident. Appliance electrocution, but I was always a bit puzzled, Gordon didn't eat toast and that a toaster was the appliance, well, it just seemed odd."

To Doyle, Emma seemed genuinely puzzled in her reflection of the event. He was disappointed, he'd been hoping she'd shed some light.

"Odd, when I think about it...you just take care of each other." She stood up, "Let me grab you another pint." Emma hurried back to the bar.

"Odd she didn't know more," Bodie commented when Emma was out of range.

"She seemed bothered by her memories." Ray had a speculative look.

"Bet she knew all the victims. Wish we could just ask her. She probably notices things that escape others." Bodie liked Emma; her curiosity seemed to stem from a caring and not just a need to know.

After they finished their meal and an extra pint they made their departure. They waved goodbye to Emma and Charlie and stepped outside into the crisp night air. Bodie drove down a side street and headed for the Pendragon.

They parked and entered the classy establishment. Bodie didn't notice the looks sent his way, all he noticed were the looks Ray was receiving. He didn't like it and he kept Ray close.

It was crowded but not overly so and they found a table in the corner and Bodie felt better with a wall behind him. They ordered drinks from a waiter that couldn't keep his eyes off Ray and again, Bodie found himself irritated at the man's behaviour.

Bodie turned and looked at Ray and noticed his tousled hair and righted it without any thought to his action. Ray was bloody gorgeous tonight and Bodie knew he'd have to work at keeping Ray safe. Lost in his observations, he was unprepared for Ray's question.

"Wanna dance?"

"Don't care for dancing much, mate." Bodie was worried that a dancing Ray would attract too much attention and too many eyes. He wasn't sure why this disturbed him to this degree, he just knew it did.

The man behind Doyle overheard the exchange and jumped into the conversation. "He may not care for dancing, but I love it. Let's rock." He held out his hand to Ray and with a quick smile for his stunned partner Ray accepted the offer.

Bodie watched in an expressionless silence as Doyle moved onto the dance floor. He gyrated to the music with an ease that Bodie knew he had never attained. Ray seemed to flow and move with the rhythm. The nameless man moved closer and bumped his partner several times.

Bodie seethed under his calm exterior. No one was allowed those liberties with his date. Without pondering his actions, Bodie stood and cut between the dancing pair. "My turn." He pulled Ray close and matched him move for move. No light could be seen between the two bodies.

Ray threw back his head, tossing the hair off his face. He smiled at his partner and commented, "Possessive."

"Yes. Seemed safer that way." Much safer than his other idea of staking his claim publicly, of bending Ray over the table and pounding into him so all would know who he belonged to. Bodie was dazed by the intensity of his own thoughts and pulled Ray closer still so he could lose himself in the scent of Ray instead.

The frisky music kept the pace upbeat and the intensity high. Bodie's right hand moved all up and down Ray's back and arse in time with the music. As the music drew to an end, Bodie dipped Ray and finished off with a kiss. The built up passion exploded and each mouth tried to devour the other. Until the kiss ended of it natural accord, neither heard the woof whistles or applause.

As Bodie went to release Ray, he let his fingers drop and teased Ray's bulging erection. That simple gesture provoked such intense sensations throughout his body that Ray arched his hips instinctively seeking to continue the contact. The need written so clearly on Ray's face had Bodie's hand back on the leather-encased bulge.

Both Bodie and Doyle had lost contact with where they were, but the nameless man had not and knew what state the pair was in and guided them to a discreet alcove used for this purpose many times.

As the darkness registered, Bodie found Ray's lips once more and his hand never wavered from its rhythm. Ray tried to thrust faster as his erection swelled, reaching its full girth. Bodie knew that Ray needed more and went to his knees. He freed the swollen cock from its prison and rubbed his face on it.

Bodie didn't care that the nameless man knew what was happening here, Bodie felt bone deep satisfaction that he and not the nameless one was going down on Ray's thick cock. Bodie swallowed it and sucked voraciously. A bone deep hunger assailed him and he needed Ray's essence to assuage it. He took all of Ray in, working his throat muscles, sucking in time to Ray's throaty sounds.

Bodie felt the upcoming climax and opened his own trousers and was about to grab his own leaking hardness when he felt his hand batted away. Ray grabbed it and moaned, "Faster...more." Bodie complied. It didn't take long for Ray to explode down the waiting throat, taking Bodie with him. The dark alcove allowed them to slip to the floor in a sated daze, still out of sight of the club goers.

When the sense of time and place returned, both agents fixed themselves and headed back to their table in silence. Bodie paid the bill and followed Doyle out, but not without a nod of thanks to the nameless man. Bodie was leaving with the treasure; he could afford to be gracious.

They watched the game on the box together as they had always done. No mention of their time lapse at the club. Bodie figured for Ray it was all part of the op, for himself, he wasn't clear what all it was but he was too tired to ponder it now.

---

The agents knew that the District Station would have copies of the reports from the Brentby constabulary. They banked on the small town being remote enough that the Berkshire District Station wouldn't know they were acting as residents there.

They presented their IDs and asked for official copies of the four reports.

After receiving them, Doyle asked the Chief Inspector, "Are these reports completed to your satisfaction?"

The underlying tone of the question was enough to get under Chief Inspector Gleason's skin. "They wouldn't be filed unless they were." His irritation at the presumptuous CI5 man showed clearly.

Ray ignored the irritation, "You don't think there is the remotest possibility that a full scale investigation should have taken place?" Ray's tone was caustic.

Bodie interceded before the Chief Inspector threw his partner out of his office. "I think he's asking, sir, if a full murder investigation might not have been warranted? And whether or not you tied the cases together." His tone was inquisitive, not inflammatory.

"We may not be CI5 down here, laddie, but we can still tell there were no similarities between the cases." Gleason told the agents disdainfully.

"All the victims were gay," Doyle reminded him.

"Well, that is to be expected. That town has a considerably higher homosexual population, so there is bound to be more occurrences within that population." Gleason explained.

A voice from behind the Chief Inspector could be heard smirking, "Ain't called Bentby for nothing."

"Were the cases treated fairly?" Doyle asked pointedly.

Chief Inspector Gleason took the offensive, "Are you insinuating that a member of this department is doing less than his job?"

"A poor one, at the very least. Did the investigating officers even try to find links?" Doyle's tone was becoming snarky.

"You at CI5 may need to create work for yourselves, but here at the Met, we have more than enough to contend ourselves with than to go out and try to create work where there is none." Gleason looked pointedly at Doyle, "Listen here, I will not tolerate you banding about a rumour of that magnitude. It would only create a panic. I will be taking this up with your superior. Your rudeness and insinuations are an abomination. Is this how George Cowley trains his boys?" The last was said with a disdainful tone, indicating clearly that the speaker did not care for George Cowley and his bunch.

Bodie stepped up behind his partner and laid his hands on both shoulders. He looked at the Chief Inspector and with a smile to disarm, "I plan to enrol him in charm school." Bodie patted Doyle on the back as he spoke to him, "Come on, Raymond, my son, time to see the headmaster." Bodie pushed his partner out of the office of the Chief Inspector.

---

A call from Cowley had both agents on their way to London. A standard escort of a foreign dignitary turned into a full-scale shootout at the Old Bailey. Cowley with his double think had been prepared but hadn't let his agents in on the turn of events. Doyle was left in the open and sustained a bullet graze in the arm. Bodie got to his partner, pulled him out of the line of fire and then took out the shooter. The sight of blood on Ray's clothes hit him hard in the gut.

His brusqueness to the others hid his fear ...not since Mayli Kuolo had he felt Ray's mortality so acutely. He was concerned about how deep his fear went and knew that soon he would have to allow time to work it out. Cowley unknowingly deflected all introspection as he called for an immediate debriefing.

Bodie wasn't going to leave Cowley's office without the man knowing that he was displeased. "It would be damn decent if you would tell us you expect trouble before you send us out."

"You're CI5, you should always expect trouble. You're getting soft, 3.7, if you expect otherwise." Cowley told him as he read the written reports.

With barely concealed vehemence, "I expect that our boss will apprise us of all the available facts and that he has a counter plan in the works. Sir!"

"Ach, laddie, you should know better by now," Cowley almost sound amused. "I told no one and I found the leak I suspected."

"Who, sir?" Doyle asked, hoping to deflect Cowley, giving Bodie a chance to cool off. He knew that Bodie's partner protector instincts were running high and he just needed to blow off some steam.

"O'Brien, recent arrival from MI6, has a small faction within that organisation that would like to see us disgraced because of the Dawson affair. Some believed the mole rumour was just our attempt to discredit them."

"And Doyle gets shot protecting a bloody traitor?" Hostility running high, Bodie's voice was still accusatory.

"I'm okay, Bodie," Doyle reminded his partner.

Cowley raised his brows, "Part of the job, 3.7, and you know it. And what's this business with the Chief Inspector in Berkshire? Very put out by the rudeness of my two agents. I thought we weren't involving the locals in this?"

"Gleason's at the district station. The local coppers are on the suspect list and we had to check up on the general feeling toward Brentby." Doyle explained, answering only part of the Controller's question.

"And? Don't keep me waiting, 4.5."

"There is some prejudice involved, though I do believe that Gleason honestly didn't see a connection between the four cases. I'm not sure many would, sir," Doyle told his boss truthfully.

Cowley looked at his operative, "Rude is not the way to keep your cover, 4.5." He sounded more stern than his features revealed.

"Wasn't really rude, sir. More that he asked pointed questions that made Chief Inspector uncomfortable." A calmer Bodie defended his partner.

"Aye, but you don't have to rub their nose in their shortcomings unless we are dealing with corruption in the ranks."

"Yes, sir," Doyle confirmed.

"Sir." Bodie nodded his acquiesce.

---

They stopped at a pub closest to Bodie's flat. They drank, they ate and drank some more. There was a game on the box and both half watched it. They talked some but neither spoke of the day's op. Ray had attempted to earlier on but Bodie shot him down flat and Ray took his lead.

Bodie was about to collect another round when Ray suggested, "That's enough, mate, let's go."

"Fine, drop me off at me motor." Bodie headed for the exit instead of the counter.

Ray unlocked the passenger side and walked around before answering, "I'll drop you at your flat and we can collect it tomorrow."

"Nah, I'm gonna drive out to the house tonight, like it better." Bodie's speech was a tad slurred.

"That's crazy. You'll be nabbed up as a drunk."

"I'll just show'em me badge."

Ray pulled up in front of Bodie's and got out. He pushed his partner up the stairs.

Bodie shook his head at his mate, "You're only delaying me, Doyle," he unlocked his door.

"Quit acting like a damn fool, go on in and go to bed."

Mulishly, Bodie persisted, "I will as soon as I get out to the house."

Furious at his partner's stubborn nature, Doyle ranted, "Look, Bodie, I know you're infuriated about today's op and I'm not saying you shouldn't be, just don't be a damn fool and go haring about town until you sleep it off."

"Ta, mother. Now be off like a good little Ray of sunshine you are."

"You're staying put." It was both a question and a statement.

Bodie looked away from his partner, "Night, Doyle."

"Bloody hell, you dumb crud, you're not going anywhere."

"And you'll stop me how, Goldilocks?" Bodie taunted Doyle with Cowley's nickname. He really wanted Doyle gone.

"Oh, I've got ways." He shoved his partner across the room.

Expecting a right across the jaw, Bodie didn't expect to be slammed against the wall or to have a hand fumble at his belt.

Ray used one hand to hold Bodie in place, and the other to thrust down his trousers and pants and grabbed the burgeoning erection. A gasp was all Ray heard by way of complaint so he didn't stop.

Bodie's bobbing Adam's apple enticed Ray and he ran his tongue across it as he worked the hardness in his hand. He could smell the musky scent of arousal and wanted to taste. Bodie didn't complain about that either.

He had never enjoyed this act in college, just an experiment, but he found that he delighted in the texture and warmth of Bodie's hardness. He worked the rigid shaft with enthusiasm. His own arousal fuelled by Bodie's response.

Bodie reached down and could feel Ray full and hard against his jeans. That knowledge pushed him over and he shot all he had into Ray's mouth. He didn't lose contact with the hardness beneath his touch and worked to free it. With Ray's jeans and pants pushed to his knees, Bodie rubbed his face into the exposed groin.

He knew in that moment that this is where he had wanted to be all evening. He took in a deep breath, immersing himself in Ray's scent. He licked the furry testicles and felt them grow taut against his cheek. He moved his face enough to lick the tiny slit and growled with satisfaction deep in his throat at the fluid he found waiting there. Bodie took the head between his lips and guided it deep into his throat. He sucked fast and furious, evoking memories of the club that spurred him on to an even faster pace.

Ray threw back his head and howled as Bodie's pace never slackened. His movements stopped only when he had a flaccid penis in his mouth and a slumped over partner. Cuddling him close, Bodie followed Ray into sleep on the living room floor.

They woke about an hour later, sleepy, stiff and cold. Bodie pushed Ray, Ray pushed Bodie. Together they made it into the bedroom and fell onto the bed, clothes still askew. Bodie used his last bit of awareness to pull the quilt over them; morning would probably come too soon.

---

Bodie was up, showered and shaved when Ray awoke. By silent mutual consent neither spoke about yesterday; not the op, the drinking, the sex or sleep. Ray ate the breakfast that Bodie placed in front of him. They both downed several more cups of coffee then arranged for a vehicle pick up and headed back to Brentby.

Ray snoozed most of the way. They stopped at Emma's for the mail and Charlie's for supper. They watched a French film on the box. They turned off the sound and made up the dialog, affecting bad accents in their over dramatic replay.

In bed, Bodie snuggled up to Ray, realising that he was more relaxed here in this house than at his own flat. He didn't know why and was too tired to think on it.

---

Returning from the morning run Bodie heard the phone and hurried in to catch it. "Bodie."

"Alpha One. 3.7, you and 4.5 have an hour and a half to get to Heathrow. You're booked on a flight to New York. Peter Quinn will arrive approximately one hour after you land. He has agreed to meet with you on his ninety minute layover. His connecting flight is to Brazil."

"Eh, where's he been?" Bodie inquired.

"It will be in the brief waiting for you. You'll have plenty of time to read it on the plane. Your return flight will depart an hour after Quinn's."

"No overnight?"

"You can play around on your own time, 3.7. CI5 won't foot the bill."

"Yes, sir." Bodie hung up the phone. He turned to Doyle, "Pack a shave kit, sunshine. We have an interview with Quinn."

"Shave kit? Where we going? The palace?" Doyle stood.

"The States. New York and the absurd part, the Old Man has us returning just a few hours later."

"Well, you can't fall asleep on the plane," Doyle told his partner.

"Why ever not? Good way to pass the time."

"You snore."

"I do not," affronted.

"If I say you do, you do. Betcha it's not first class."

"First class, with the Cow? Bloody unlikely."

---

When they arrived at the pickup desk for their tickets, the envelope Cowley promised was waiting, as were the Airport Police.

"If you will follow us," the sergeant requested.

The CI5 men followed the officer to an unmarked room.

"May I see your weapons." It was said with authority.

Doyle looked over to Bodie, then both men reached under their jackets and retrieved their guns.

Doyle was about to comment when the sergeant spoke. "Mr Cowley has secured permission for you to carry your weapons. We just wanted to verify the weapon with the permit."

The CI5 agents handed their guns, butt first, to the sergeant. He checked them against his form and returned them to their owners.

They made their way straight to the boarding terminal. Doyle took the window seat before his partner could call it. He'd let Bodie have it on the return trip when they'd both probably be asleep.

Bodie opened the file and Doyle read it over his partner's shoulder.

"After Greenland, I'd want to go to the South American jungle, as well." Doyle remarked.

"He's spent the last year and a half in a native village. Running away, perhaps?" Bodie suggested.

"Let's put that down to ask. I'd say yes, though." Doyle agreed. Ray made some notations on the folder in Bodie's lap. "So we can add to our own Cluedo game; stabbed in the kitchen with a knife."

"Wonder what's missing from the police report?" Bodie asked knowing there was, just not what.

"We'll find out when we talk to Quinn. He'd been married for seventeen years before coming out."

"Think he woke up one morning and decided to be queer?" Bodie couldn't help but wonder.

"Wouldn't know, mate."

"Couldn't have been easy."

"Probably not."

"One of the many reasons I'm glad I'm not married." Bodie told his partner seriously.

"What? You'd have to explain you're a poof?" Doyle loved to tease using Bodie's own words.

"Nah, just the whole talking thing. A wife would expect that on a regular basis ... the talking, you know."

"You would also get some on a regular basis, too." Doyle told him sagely.

"Not worth all the talking."

Doyle didn't tease further, Bodie was dead serious and Doyle found himself not wanting to spoil the moment.

Bodie took out his condensed version of their Cluedo game and studied it. He knew he was missing something. He didn't say a thing when his partner fell asleep and used his shoulder as a pillow.

---

The CI5 men bypassed customs as they were here on official business and they weren't leaving the airport terminal. They got coffee and a real American hamburger.

"Don't seem that much different than our own." Bodie munched away.

"They're not, you moron, mince is mince, just a bit spicier." Doyle didn't even mention the cholesterol.

By the time they were finished, they didn't have a long wait.

As soon as his plane disembarked, they had Mr Quinn paged. He met them at the VIP lounge. The CI5 agents had the use of a private room prearranged by head of CI5.

Bodie gave Quinn the option of coffee or a cold drink, Quinn chose coffee. Bodie poured three cups.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet us," Doyle opted for polite.

Bodie interjected, "Though if only we found you a week later we could have flown to the jungle." Bodie really thought it unlikely, the Cow would never have sprung for that, but it broke the ice as intended.

"How can I help you?" The tall, thin man asked. The forty two-year-old anthropologist looked like he could stand to eat a few more meals.

"We need to ask you some questions about Anthony Morton." Doyle watched the light go out of Quinn's eyes.

"Did you find the person that did it?" Peter asked quietly.

"No, not yet." Doyle answered and was about to continue when Quinn interrupted.

"You lot didn't seem to care when it happened, why care now, almost two years later?"

"We're not with that lot." Bodie wanted it to be clear.

Quinn looked askance, "I was led to believe that you were coppers."

"Of a sort," Bodie agreed.

Doyle took out his badge and showed Quinn. "We're investigating Morton's murder along with three others that we believe are connected."

"Come again? Other murders? Where?"

Bodie gave him a quick rundown, adding, "One thing we did discover is that the local constabulary did not do as through a job as they could `ve done."

"So, why now if it wasn't important back then?" This was said with a great deal of bitterness.

"It was important back then. I'm sorry it wasn't treated as so."

Doyle was always amazed that at times his partner could say just the right thing with the perfect voice tones. He never knew though, if he meant it or if it was just part of the job to him. There were times when his partner was still an enigma.

"If it had been, three others wouldn't have also met the same fate as Anthony." Doyle added the names, "Bradley Sorenson, Gordon Bentley, and Martin Fane."

Peter Quinn sat stunned. Bodie watched Quinn as Doyle rattled off the names and he was sure that he had recognised one or two of them.

"They were stabbed, too? My god, Gordon?" Quinn shook his head and whispered, "I knew Gordon... and everyone knew Bradley."

"No, each death was different. The only common denominator is that each man was in a stable homosexual relationship."

"The report stated that Mr Morton was stabbed in the chest." Bodie referred to his notes.

"Yes. Four times."

Two heads whipped around to Quinn, Doyle parroted, "Four times?"

Bodie lips pouted, "That's not mentioned in the report."

Quinn sighed, "No, it wouldn't. The officer in charge said it was obviously a crime of passion so others weren't in danger and there was no need to upset the whole town."

"You didn't think that was a strange way to handle it?" Doyle inquired.

"Not for the police of Brentby. It was a pretty much an accepted fact that our local bobbies had the highest number of poof haters."

"Did you register a complaint for the record?" Doyle asked of him. He hated this. He knew there were more good coppers than bad, but it was hard to change civilian's minds after incidents such as this.

"Who with? The Chief is the one making the assignments." Peter shrugged.

"I thought the town was considered lifestyle friendly." Bodie commented.

"The town, yes, coppers, no."

Bodie took a deep breath and brought it back on track, "Did you find the body?"

"Yes and no." Quinn received two quizzical stares. "I wasn't the first to find the body, but I did see it."

"Please explain." Doyle looked over to his partner, Bodie just shrugged.

"I had just flown in from Spain. I was met at the airport and escorted home by the police. They didn't warn me, just watched me fall apart." Quinn shut his eyes, trying to shut out the memories.

"Bastards," Bodie growled.

Doyle was incredulous, "The police knowingly escorted you, uninformed into a known crime scene?" Ray would make sure that Cowley did something about that at the conclusion of this case.

"Yes, they wanted to see how I'd react. They said it was to eliminate me as a suspect. The fact that I was arriving from Spain wasn't good enough in itself. The sergeant said that homo's were usually killed by their own kind. Said it like we were a different species." Quinn's voice reflected the hurt from that day.

Feeling bad for the man Bodie changed the track, "Can you recall what all you saw?"

"Hard to forget. He was lying on the kitchen floor with a knife sticking out of his chest. The Medical Examiner found four stab wounds."

"How was the rest of the room? Messy, dirty?" Bodie continued on a theme.

"No, clean. It's odd, you ask, I remember thinking in one of those outside moments, that the kitchen was cleaner than Anthony usually left it. One of the detail men found a tea cup shard. The rest of a broken cup was in the rubbish. Like it had been broken during the murder and cleaned up after. The sergeant brushed aside that observation and didn't even write it down. Thought it was unnecessary."

Bodie freshened Doyle's coffee, setting the milk in front of him. He wanted to distract him from the rant he could see forming.

Doyle acknowledged the silent plea and asked another question. "Were you a suspect?"

"Oh, yes," Quinn actually smiled, "I do believe the sergeant was bitterly disappointed."

"Since the report conveys practically nothing, some routine cop questions." Doyle wanted to preface the next series of questions. "Could Anthony have been going out with someone else on the side that got outraged?"

Quinn shook his head, "We were exclusive. That meant no fucking anyone else. That didn't preclude dancing and flirting. Anthony loved to dance, I didn't." Peter could still see his love dancing in his memories. "Bradley was a wild one and Anthony would dance with him regularly. They were good and to a stranger, it could look like they were into each other, but they were into the dance and the show... Bradley was wild but he really did care about Gideon."

"You said you knew Gordon?" Bodie asked.

"Yeah, played backgammon with him at the club, on and off on Saturday mornings. I'd be gone for months working on a dig, then be home for equal time."

"You were married before you changed your lifestyle. Seventeen years, wasn't it?" Doyle could see this was a topic that Quinn didn't like.

"Is all this necessary?"

"Don't know. It started with you, so we're just checking all possibilities." Bodie was earnest in his answer.

"Then, no, I didn't cause my ex, or anyone else for that matter, any embarrassment during my married years. I wasn't hiding anything. Until I met Anthony I didn't know I could feel that way. I haven't since. I've got my work, but nothing could take Anthony's place."

"Still, wouldn't your wife have suffered some embarrassment in your preferring a man over her?" Doyle had to ask.

"We divorced before I ever sought out Anthony. I moved to Brentby, we had never been there. She never visited. No one in Kent knew a thing, she didn't suffer. The divorce was uncontested." Peter told the agents honestly.

"What did Anthony do?" Doyle asked - it was also missing from the police report.

"History teacher. We met at a conference."

"Did you guys go to the Pendragon a lot?" Bodie asked.

"A lot? No. Maybe four or five times a year. We weren't home much. Anthony travelled with me to the digs. We were a good match."

"Why Greenland?" Bodie indulged his curiosity.

"I knew I'd be busy." He looked at the agent and added, "We had never planned to go there. It was a place without memories. I needed that."

They heard the call for his flight. They stood and shook hands.

Bodie handed him his card with a number that would always reach him. "In case you remember anything else of significance."

"Thank you for your time," Doyle added.

They watched him leave. Bodie waited then announced, "I'm hungry."

"We just ate."

"We have a long flight and plane food isn't the same as this authentic stuff."

Doyle shook his head but followed his partner.

---

They both slept on the return trip. Upon their arrival there was a message waiting from Alpha One for them to proceed to headquarters immediately.

Both opted for the restroom first, coffee was necessary if the Cow wanted a long session. And he did. He wanted a through rundown on the case and their ideas. He wasn't pleased.

"You knew when you sent us in, it could take awhile. We had to start from scratch, the police reports were far from accurate." Bodie was irritated that Cowley was dissatisfied.

"Aye, laddie, the Prime Minister is afraid that the longer it takes, the more likely that the press will get wind of it." That was as close to an apology they would get. He did promise that he would send out an updated report from Ross.

As they exited the office, Bodie said under his breath, "That'll be well worth the wait. We are needing a new bin bag in the kitchen."

Doyle muffled a laugh as he prodded his partner out of the building.

They decided to head straight back rather than spend the day in London. No sense upsetting the Prime Minister or George Cowley.

---

A wheelie in the dirt, mud all over him, Doyle grinned smugly. He felt vindicated, he won, no cheating involved. Bodie may have bragged and boasted that he won the Widowmaker, but Doyle knew that he was the better rider. Today proved that, he had bested Bodie with Bodie's rules.

Helmet off, he stood by his bike as Bodie rolled in. All Bodie could see were white teeth surrounded by brown mud. Doyle still looked a treat.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, my treat. Let's get cleaned up, I'll buy you Charlie's finest."

"You're on, mate."

Half an hour later they walked in Charlie's pub and b