1. Gàidhlig is the native word for the language of Scottish Gaelic. Nothing in canon says Cowley knows it but I think he would.
2. Thanks to my beta reader, Jan.
"I've got no favorites, you know that."
-- George Cowley, Rogue
Doyle leaned against the doorframe of the office he shared with Bodie. He watched Bodie pull on a jacket, preparing to leave for the day. "Which one will it be tonight, then? Claire or Sarah?"
Bodie grinned smugly and arched his brows suggestively. "What's wrong with both?"
Doyle cocked an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. He knew Bodie could be charming but he thought that Bodie was full of himself sometimes. "Will they go along with it?"
"Oh, I think so," Bodie answered confidently. "They're both adventurous types." He pointed at Doyle. "What about you? What are your plans for this evening?"
Doyle shrugged. "Don't rightly know yet," he lied and quite convincingly. He had very definite plans. Would he be successful carrying them out was the main question. His objective had a surly mind of its own that he had to contend with.
Bodie went up to Doyle and nudged Doyle in the ribs with his elbow. "Want to come with us? Claire is a dark headed American exchange student, studying English literature." He leered and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "And get this, she worked as an aerobics instructor back in New York. Her assets are still very firm." He nudged Doyle again. "Could crack a walnut."
Doyle snickered. "I can definitely see why you're attracted to her but what on Earth does she see in you?"
"My natural charm of course," Bodie answered readily without offense. He put an arm around Doyle's neck in a playful headlock.
Doyle rolled his eyes. "Oh, of course," he drawled.
Bodie lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Sarah's a tall blonde. She's an aspiring actress and used to model."
"Oh, come on," Doyle snorted.
"It's true," Bodie maintained. "Remember last year's lager calendar?"
Doyle could picture Sarah right away, but he just didn't have the interest at that point. Still, he had to keep up appearances. He cupped his hands up a couple inches away from his chest to signify breasts. "You mean the one with the big..."
Bodie grinned like a cat who'd gotten the canary. "That's her. I don't know about her acting talents but I know plenty of blokes will go to a film just to see her." He punched Doyle's shoulder with his free hand. "Tell you what. I'll let you have your pick. They're both beautiful so you can't go wrong."
Doyle nudged Bodie back and retorted sarcastically, "Thanks, but I don't need your help getting dates, mate."
"Never said you did," Bodie returned easily. "Just trying to do something nice for a friend." He looked at Doyle expectantly. "So, are you coming or not?"
Doyle smiled but shook his head. "No, thanks."
Bodie did his best to make his voice sound tempting. "They're fun birds. Either one will give you the time of your life. Hell, you might not even remember your own name come morning. Come on, Ray. Do you really want to let an opportunity like this slip away?"
Doyle stepped to the side to let Bodie pass. "Afraid I'm going to have to. But don't let me hold you up. You better not keep them waiting. I've got some work to finish up or the Cow will kill me in the morning. See you tomorrow."
"You know what they say about too much work," Bodie started.
Doyle gave Bodie a little shove down the hall. "Good night. Have fun."
Bodie smirked and mock saluted Doyle. "Yes, Sir. Night."
Doyle waited until Bodie disappeared down the steps before heading to Cowley's office. Betty was gone for the day so there was no one to stand between him and his objective. Doyle knocked softly and went in before getting a response.
Cowley glanced up in irritation over the intrusion. His expression softened minutely around the eyes. "I didn't expect you to be here at this hour."
Doyle locked the door. He stared at Cowley intently. "I have a few things to finish up here."
Cowley chose to ignore the predatory, hungry look in Doyle's eyes. He looked back down at the open file on his desk. He tapped the empty glass at his elbow, a silent order and invitation to Doyle. "And Bodie?"
Doyle went over to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a scotch. Then he brought the bottle over to give Cowley a refill. "He's got a date with two adventurous birds, an aerobics instructor and Miss July." He set the bottle down and perched on the edge of the desk at Cowley's side. "He'll probably be completely useless in the morning," he added, deadpan. "Said something about being so used up as to not remember his own name."
Cowley felt the heat and energy radiating off Doyle. The words in front of him blurred. He knocked back half the glass and the comforting burn spread down his throat.
"He invited me to come along," Doyle continued blandly.
Cowley feigned an indifferent tone. "And why didn't you?"
Doyle swigged the rest of his scotch and lowered his voice. "Because that's not what I'm interested in tonight."
Doyle's husky tone sent a shiver down Cowley's spine. However, he gave no sign how Doyle was affecting him. "Is that so?" he asked calmly. "Your reputation with the ladies is just as infamous as Bodie's. I'm somewhat surprised that you didn't choose to indulge in carnal acts with a beautiful lass."
Doyle leaned in close to Cowley's ear and laughed softly. "Carnal acts. I like that, but they don't necessarily have to be with a beautiful lass. Sometimes I need something else, a need that the girls can't satisfy." He paused, reached across Cowley to close the file, and took Cowley's hand. He placed it against his thigh. "You can understand that, can't you Sir?"
Cowley used his free hand to take off his glasses. He met Doyle's eyes. His voice was barely loud enough for Doyle to hear. "Aye, I understand."
Doyle's mouth was back near Cowley's ear, his hot breath ghosting over the skin. "You're one of the few men that I can trust who do. Besides, you know how to bugger me so well." He laughed seductively. "There's something to be said for men with power and experience."
Heat crept up the back of Cowley's neck. He squeezed the firm muscle under his hand and let his fingers wander to brush against Doyle's already hard interest. As with the previous times Doyle seduced him, he went through any number of excuses in his mind not to go any further. He was Doyle's boss and this was a bad idea. Unfortunately, he could be weak where Doyle was concerned, especially when Doyle was so close to him, touching him.
Doyle moaned softly and buried his face against the side of Cowley's neck. He gently kissed the flesh, careful to avoid leaving embarrassing marks where they would be readily visible. But that didn't mean he wouldn't mark Cowley elsewhere. Cowley stroked him and he twisted his hips to push into Cowley's hand.
Cowley gave Doyle another quick squeeze before pushing Doyle away. He matched Doyle's hungry look with one of his own. "Strip," he ordered crisply.
Doyle grinned widely and starting doing as he was told. His eyes never left Cowley's. He reveled in the attention and took pride in the fact that he was the one who could break through Cowley's hard shell.
Cowley took a moment to just indulge in looking at Doyle; handsome face, firm muscles, hard lines, dark chest hair, and various scars and bruises. There was one word to describe it all: Sexy. The sight was breathtaking. Thank God Doyle was on his side.
"Like what you see, Sir?" Doyle asked insolently.
"What do you think?" Cowley retorted and pushed his chair away from under the desk.
Doyle's grin turned downright lecherous when he saw the evidence of just how much Cowley liked what he saw. He stood in front of Cowley so that their knees touched. He leaned down and placed his palm over the fabric covering Cowley's arousal. "What more do I have to do to get this inside of me?"
Cowley hissed and batted Doyle's hand away. He nodded to the brown couch. "Doyle, you know that all you have to do is ask."
"I wish that you were always this agreeable," Doyle teased. He lay on his back, impatiently waiting for Cowley to join him. "Today, old man."
Cowley stood and started taking off his own clothes. "Such insolence. I have a mind not to give you what you want."
Doyle stretched, showing himself off. "Would you deny yourself just to punish me, Sir?"
Cowley hadn't encountered anyone else who made the word "sir" sound so erotic. He was going to have trouble the next day when Doyle tried to use the title respectfully. "I'll let you off this time."
"Do you mean you'll get me off?" Doyle asked, still teasing, insolent, and too damn sexy for his own good. He avidly watched Cowley undress and approach him. Cowley was fit for his age, despite the old leg wound, and he found him to be a pleasing sight. Plus, Cowley had incredible stamina, which surprised him their first time together, but was something he'd learned to take advantage of.
"Shut it, Doyle, before you get into more trouble." Cowley tried to sound stern and only partially succeeded. He lay on his side next to Doyle.
"I like trouble and so do you."
Cowley grinned ruefully. "Aye, we're quite a pair." He'd brought the bottle of scotch with him when he joined Doyle. He took a drink and leaned in to kiss Doyle.
Doyle tasted the scotch on Cowley's tongue. He eagerly pulled Cowley on top of him, not allowing Cowley's mouth to leave his. He ran his hands up and down Cowley's back.
Finally, Cowley broke for air. "Och, Doyle," he gasped when Doyle began kissing his jaw.
Doyle found it arousing that Cowley's accent got thicker by varying degrees, depending on how excited Cowley became. Cowley's speech became much less clipped, peppered with Gàidhlig. He was almost at the edge himself and was tired of waiting. He didn't think Cowley would mind if he decided to do all of the work. Thankfully, he'd had the foresight to prepare himself beforehand because he wasn't in the mood for much more foreplay.
Suddenly, their positions were reversed. Cowley looked up at Doyle's flushed face looming above him. He cupped the back of Doyle's neck and his thumb brushed the damp, dark curls.
Doyle shut his eyes for a moment at the tender gesture. Then he grabbed Cowley's wrist and kissed Cowley's palm. He let go, shifted position, and lowered himself down onto Cowley's stiff shaft.
Cowley didn't know who moaned louder, he or Doyle, but it didn't matter. He grabbed Doyle's hips as Doyle began to ride him in earnest. He felt the tremors pass through Doyle when his cock hit just the right spot.
Doyle's entire focus was on the pleasurable sensations swamping him. He lost it without Cowley touching his erection. He gave a guttural cry and his seed spurted over their stomachs. A moment later, Cowley filled him.
His release was shattering and it took several long minutes for Cowley to regain his wits. Doyle lay across his chest, spent and boneless. Cowley brought his arms around Doyle and traced circles over the sweaty skin. Doyle was no lightweight but he wasn't ready to break the moment.
Doyle shifted half of his weight off Cowley. He kept a possessive arm around Cowley's waist and nuzzled the side of his neck. At that moment, he was content, a feeling that he wasn't used to.
They couldn't stay like that all night. A crisis could spring up at any time. "We should get cleaned up. Then would you care to go out for dinner, Doyle?" Cowley asked quietly.
Doyle raised his head and smiled. "Sounds good to me." He pecked Cowley on the lips and whispered, "Can we go back to your place for dessert?"
Cowley's eyes sparked mischievously. "You only want to go there because I have a bigger bed."
Doyle rubbed against him. "And you have more hot water in the shower."
Cowley fondled Doyle's arse. "You are completely shameless."
"Yes, Sir," Doyle agreed readily and slid off Cowley. He stepped over his pile of clothes on the way to Cowley's bathroom. In the doorway, he stopped and grinned over his shoulder. "Coming, Sir?"
Cowley's appreciative gaze traveled from Doyle's face over strong shoulders and back, and to Doyle's firm arse. He stood and went to join Doyle. "I believe that one day you will be the death of me."
Doyle smirked. "I can think of worse ways to go." He turned on the water in the shower. "So, your place for dessert."
Cowley laughed and locked the bathroom door. "We'll see, Doyle. We'll see."
In the morning, Doyle picked Bodie up for work. He ran up the stairs to Bodie's flat and leaned on the buzzer. "Let's go, Bodie," he called in much too good a mood, at least from Bodie's point of view.
The door opened to reveal a scowling Bodie with a black eye. "Not a word, Ray," he growled.
Doyle managed to keep a straight face until Bodie let him in. Once he was safely inside, he burst out laughing. "Not as adventurous as you thought, hey? Or did one of them have a jealous boyfriend?"
Bodie picked up a beaker from the coffee table and drained it in two quick gulps. "I don't want to talk about it," he mumbled and took the beaker into the kitchen.
When Bodie came back a moment later, Doyle patted him on the shoulder. "You were so confident last night." He bit his lip and looked at Bodie with exaggerated surprise. "What went wrong?"
Bodie shrugged Doyle off. He glared but the look lacked its usual menace. "Lay off."
Doyle glanced at his watch. "Okay," he said as if making a great concession. "But only because the Cow wants to see us in his office in a half hour."
Bodie grabbed his jacket and they went out to Doyle's car. Bodie got into the passenger seat. "Did you finish your work last night?"
"Yeah," Doyle answered shortly.
"Do anything interesting afterwards?"
Doyle shrugged and started the engine. "Not really. I want to hear the details about that shiner," he said eagerly.
Bodie sighed. "I thought you were going to lay off."
"You know that you'll cough up the details eventually."
Bodie punched Doyle's shoulder. "Will you hurry up and drive. We don't want to keep Cowley waiting."
Doyle decided to take pity on Bodie. "You're right. We wouldn't want to put him in a sour mood." At that moment, a vivid image of the blissed-out look on Cowley's face the night before flashed in his mind. He smirked, obviously pleased with himself. He pulled out into traffic and ignored the odd look Bodie aimed in his direction.
"What's going on in your head?" Bodie asked curiously.
"Nothing," Doyle answered happily. "Just in a good mood this morning."
Cowley was in the small bathroom adjoining his office. He wore no tie and the top two buttons of his shirt were open. He looked at himself in the mirror, shaving with an electric razor and speaking to Bodie and Doyle, who were standing in front of his desk. He'd already spoken sharply to Bodie about brawling and was on to business. "Strictly observe and report for now. I want to know what Ahmed is doing in this country."
Doyle nodded. "Where's he now?" he asked neutrally, his voice betraying no indication that he had crawled out of Cowley's bed only a few short hours earlier.
Cowley finished, turned on the faucet, and splashed cool water in his face. He reached for a towel to dry his face and hands. Then he went to join them. "Ahmed's staying with his sister and her husband." He took his tie from where it was draped over the back of his chair with one hand and a slip of paper off the desk with the other. He handed the paper to Bodie because he happened to be closer. "Here's the address."
Bodie looked at it and then at his boss. One end of his mouth quirked up. "Right."
Cowley put the tie around his neck. "Off to work with the pair of you," he snapped.
"Sir," Bodie and Doyle chorused and hurried out.
Bodie waited until they were in the car before laughing and shaking his head. "I can hardly believe it," he said in surprise.
Doyle stuck the key in the ignition but didn't start the engine. He looked at Bodie questioningly. "What are you on about?"
"Cowley," Bodie answered as if that explained everything.
Doyle shrugged. He still didn't get it. "What about him?"
Bodie's grin could only be described as evil. "He got luckier last night than either of us."
Doyle coughed so hard his face turned red. "I--" he stammered at a temporary loss.
Bodie patted Doyle's back. "I know. It's a strange thought. It's weird thinking of the Cow having it off with anyone."
Doyle brought himself back under control. He cleared his throat and asked in disbelief, "What makes you think so?"
Bodie gave an exaggerated shudder. "She marked him. Must have given him a run for his money."
"I didn't see anything."
"No, you weren't close enough. When he gave me the address, I caught a glimpse of his shoulder through the top of his shirt and there it was; a love bite."
Doyle vividly remembered leaving that mark, along with a few others that Bodie had better never see. However, the look of shocked disbelief didn't crack. "Who would have thought?"
Bodie laughed again. "Definitely, not me. Well, I guess we should be getting to work. That is what we're paid for."
Doyle started the car and pulled out into traffic. He briefly wondered what Cowley would say when he told him about Bodie's observation. He pushed that thought out of his mind. He'd have time later.
-- THE END --