"Hey."

Doyle caught the change in tone and looked across the roof of the car.

"Sorry. For back there. Sorry I belted you."

One thing you could say about Bodie, thought Doyle with wry amusement, was that he never backed down. From a fight or an apology. Looked you full in the face when he was doing either.

Doyle held his gaze and merely nodded.

Seemingly satisfied that he had been forgiven, Bodie made to duck into the car.

"Hey."

Not yet you don't, mate. It was Doyle's turn now and he had to know something first.

"Back there. You fancy letting me in on it now?"

It was instant. Bodie's face hardened and that pissed off glare was back.

Shit, same old fucking Bodie. Doyle felt a flare of temper and an obscure sting to his pride. He put his hand on the top of the driver's door and swung it wider.

"Tell you what, sunshine. For a pint and a towel, anything you want to know I'm yours for the asking."

And there it was. The reason he put up with this frustrating ego maniac. Because when his guard came down and he smiled at you like that across the roof of a car, everything else disappeared and you forgot that he was a frustrating ego maniac.

"You're on."

Bodie made to duck in again, only Doyle wasn't finished with him.

"Oy!"

"What?"

"Just so you know? You hit like a girl, mate. Hardly felt a thing."

-- THE END --

May 2006