An Uplifting Opportunity
by Kris Brown
Bodie stared out the window of the office watching the single cloud drift across the sky. The sun was just gone. A line of pink outlined the horizon then blended to ever darkening shades of blue. He wondered if Doyle was watching the sky too. If he could even see the sky from where he was. Wherever he was. For the past four weeks Cowley had kept them working nearly nonstop. Separately. Not deliberately, just too much work for too few people. Everyone Cowley felt capable of working solo was doing so. The more experienced of the lads were working some jobs while supervising others. Bodie and Doyle had seen each other maybe six or seven times in the past four weeks. More if he counted the times he'd arrived at their flat and Doyle was fast asleep in their bed. He didn't count those times. The first time that happened he woke Doyle and they made love. It was pleasant - both men were too tired for more than that. After that time, Bodie was too tired to even try. He knew Doyle was too.
Bodie's thought returned from the past. The color had gone from the sky. The few stars visible in the London night were twinkling through the pollution. Bodie closed the curtains over the window. Time to go home to an empty flat, an empty bed. On the way out he passed the lift. The repairman was still working as he had been most of the day. As a general rule, Bodie disdained lifts, especially when going down. It was an old man's device. Tonight he felt old enough -- would have been grateful for the rest. Taking a deep breath Bodie trudged down the stairs. He checked the sign in sheet. If Doyle was in the building he'd even consider walking back up the stairs, just to see him. Perhaps even drag him into a closet for a quick feel.
The list was very small. Cowley, Betty, Joyce, Cliff, and himself. Bodie signed himself out and left.
The phone's buzz pulled Bodie out of a deep dreamless sleep. He reached across the bed, rolling onto Doyle as he grabbed the phone. "Bodie."
"3.7. You and 4.5 are to report in the HQ."
"It's--" Bodie checked the clock. "--4.25 in the bloody morning."
"Thanks for the time check. Cowley wants you here. Now."
Bodie put the phone back and stayed where he was, enjoying the small waking movements made by the man underneath him. Doyle finally woke enough to open one eye.
"You going back to work?" he mumbled.
"No. We're going back to work."
Doyle's groan exactly expressed Bodie's own feelings on the subject.
"Don't suppose we have enough time..." Doyle rotated his hips suggestively.
"Nor ability," Bodie assured him. Both men had to be satisfied that the desire hadn't waned even after two years together.
The bomb discovered by the London city constable was small. Small enough that its discovery before it exploded was a minor miracle. The bomb squad was at the scene when Bodie and Doyle arrived for which both CI5 men were grateful. Cowley had ordered them onto the case due to the location of the bomb. It had been found in an alley between a Saudi Arabian owned bank and a South American foreign embassy office. With no clues yet whether the bombing was political or criminal or both, Cowley put CI5 to work.
"Professional job," Bodie announced after searching the area and finding nothing.
"Yeah, but even the amateurs know the tricks. Take classes from the telly and movies, don't they?"
"Go home to bed." Doyle started towards the car. "To sleep."
Bodie ignored the temptation to comment, the even greater temptation to do as Doyle suggested, and drove them into HQ. Once again they separated, Bodie down to computers to start the search that would be finished by the day shift when they came in. Doyle went to search through the paper files. Two hours later, 7:00 AM, the two met in the rest room for coffee.
"Anything?" Doyle asked, not really listening for the answer.
"No," Bodie answered anyway. "That machine hates me."
"Then why do you always pick that job?"
"Better than dusty old files." Bodie grinned. Doyle smiled back. He occasionally let Bodie think he was getting away with something, just to see the look on his face when he admitted the fact.
"Bodie. Doyle. My office, please." Cowley was already down the hall by the time the men looked up.
"Please?" Doyle repeated. "What'd you do?"
"Told him if I didn't get some time off to sleep and screw you, he could have my resignation."
Doyle looked over at Bodie, half believing. Given enough provocation, Bodie might well do just that. And regret it later.
"Go on." Bodie shoved Doyle not ungently towards Cowley's office.
Cowley inspected his men. They looked no worse than anyone else on the squad. Knowing these two it was not beyond possibility that they'd spent some time in bed doing something other than sleeping. That their present sexual activity was with each other rather than a succession of available females was something George thought of as seldom as possible. Their work had not suffered; nor improved drastically. The only noticeable change was their relationship with Cowley. Doyle was friendlier; Bodie had grown somewhat defensive. Bodie's attitude was returning to normal slowly as he realized that George was truly unconcerned with the liaison between his agents. As a team, they were more exasperating and worrisome than ever.
"Did you two get any sleep last night?"
The two men glanced at each other before Bodie answered. "A few hours."
"It's not been enough. If I send you home for five or six hours will you spend the time sleeping?"
"Yes sir," Bodie said quickly.
Cowley wasn't positive but looking at both men thought it likely. "Alright then. I'll expect you back here at 2 PM. Thoroughly rested."
In complete accord, not a word was spoken until they reached the car park. Bodie's car was nearest the building so they took it to their flat.
"I'll sleep on the couch," Doyle said as he took off his shoes and threw them in a corner. "Otherwise you'll be tempted."
"By you? Never, mate." Bodie went into the bedroom. His wait was longer than he'd expected by two minutes. He was nearly undressed when Doyle appeared at the door in jeans and nothing else.
"Bodie?" Tentative voice, wide shiny eyes, lower lip slightly thicker than usual.
Bodie took Doyle in his arms. "Didn't mean it. You must know that?"
"I'm tired." Doyle rested his head on a broad shoulder.
"Too tired for jokes. And I stopped thinking yesterday. Sorry."
"Let's just go to bed." Doyle nibbled at the neck so unusually accessible.
Bodie finished undressing, helped Doyle remove his jeans and got them both into bed. They struggled to stay awake long enough to take pleasure in simply being in each other's arms. Sleep won.
The sky was dark. London's faint glow to the west an imitation sunrise. The mirror image to the east was not yet visible, hidden from view by a block of flats but Doyle knew it was there. The night vision binoculars were fast becoming redundant. As unnecessary as they'd been for the two and a half hours Doyle had been looking through them. This was one of the ops he'd been supervising, set up four days ago. Last night Manny had fallen ill and Doyle took over for the remaining duty time. As soon as Cowley arrived at the office Doyle would tell him it was time to cancel the op. The stakeout had been set up at the word of a usually reliable grass but with one more person out it was time to shut down. Until CI5 was once again at strength all but the most critical work would be passed on to locals or Scotland Yard.
As the sky lightened towards sunrise three men emerged from the building opposite Doyle. Two carried small carrier bags, the other opened the car doors then got behind the wheel. Once his passengers were in and settled he started the car. Swearing at his luck Doyle rushed out to his car parked in the alley and followed. He called in to Central as he drove. Cowley took the call and pulled him off the chase, as soon as Scotland Yard could arrive to take over.
"And welcome to it," Doyle muttered. Five minutes later he sighted the men from The Yard. He dropped back to let their car overtake, and at the first opportunity headed back in to London. Yesterday's six hours of sleep had been therapeutic but had been over sixteen hours ago. With no reserves to call on Doyle was once more tired and irritable. At the CI5 carpark he rested his head against the steering wheel. He was half asleep when there was a knock above his head. He sprang awake, his mind trying to catch up. A familiar face smiled in through the windscreen.
"Not a very comfy bed, is it?" Charlie asked.
"Better'n no sleep at all." Doyle pushed himself out of the car. "'S Bodie about?"
"Upstairs in the VIP lounge." Charlie knew any attempt at levity would probably result in murder.
"You're still on the Saudi Bank bombing?" Doyle headed for the building not really caring if the other agent followed.
Charlie shook his head. "On standby unless something new comes in."
Not awake enough to bother with speculation over the job, Doyle went looking for Bodie. He was to be found in the VIP lounge as promised, fast asleep in a chair with his feet propped on Murphy who was sleeping on the sofa. Doyle idly wondered what kind of mattress Murphy would make before pouring three cups of coffee. He brought one cup over and held it under Bodie's nose. The man jerked awake, kicking Murphy and waking him as well.
Bodie took the coffee and inhaled. "Won't help," he said sadly.
Doyle gave Murphy a cup and sat on the sofa next to him with his own cup. "It may do. It's hours old."
"Ugh!" Murphy opined. "And half cold. Think I'll find some proper tea."
"Not in CI5," Bodie called after. Left alone, the lovers just looked at each other. "'F we go lock the door--" Bodie started.
"---someone's sure to knock."
"Yeah. Think I've forgotten what to do anyway." Bodie slid next to Doyle and put an arm around him.
"When I wake up, I'll remind you," Doyle promised.
The next two days were more of the same. As the men on sick leave began to return, CI5's A Squad began to catch up on their sleep. The work load, however, did not diminish. Bodie and Doyle continued to see each other for fleeting moments at CI5 and their flat. A touch, a lingering kiss, a few minutes behind a closed door to hold each other close. Frustration grew.
Another fruitless interview with a less than brilliant grass. Bodie was beginning to remember Berlin and Northern Ireland as fond memories. Looking up the staircase he decided to chance the lift. It creaked up to the first floor and stopped. The doors opened and Doyle got in.
"Bodie." Doyle nodded politely and turned to face the door.
"Sod," Bodie declared before grabbing his partner from the rear and nibbling on a slightly damp ear.
"In the lift?" Doyle tried to look at his partner and discovered his head wouldn't turn that far.
Bodie stopped his labial search of Doyle's neck. "Now there's a thought. While it's moving or should we stop it first?"
"Something in the small print about committing sodomy in a CI5 lift, isn't there?"
"No. It's in very large print. The Cow added it day after we told him about us." Bodie once again returned his mouth to its explorations, allowing his hands equal freedom. Doyle started to snicker. Bodie, feeling his partner needed some type of temporary release and unable to give him what they both really needed, elaborated. "Rule includes oral sex and mutual masturbation, too."
"You mean we can do ourselves, but not each other?"
Bodie had to think about this for a minute. "Yeah. I suppose it must do." He took one of Doyle's hands and placed it on his own crotch. The lift had finally arrived and the door slid open. Murphy was standing to the side of the door.
Doyle removed Bodie's hand from his body and stepped out of the lift, trying to keep from laughing at the look on Murphy's face. "Going down, Mate?"
Bodie moved past the stunned agent. "Nah. Murph wouldn't," he said seriously. "I told you, 's illegal to do that in there."
Doyle's suppressed mirth burst forth. Trying to control only increased the laughter, caused as much by exhaustion as levity. He leaned against the wall until Bodie hustled him into the nearest empty office. Not in time. Cowley appeared at the door to his office. His mouth closed on his reprimand. Doyle was clearly not in control --- Bodie was worried.
"Bodie, the clinic is empty at the moment. I understand the beds in there are more comfortable than the lounge sofa."
"And you won't be disturbed until you're needed." Cowley went back into his office.
Tears were sparkling on Doyle's face. His cheeks hurt from laughing so hard, his ribs were in little better condition. "Was that permission? Sodomy in the clinic?" Doyle's lips curled into a smile.
"No!" Bodie said quickly. "We're both taking a kip. With our clothes on."
That was almost as funny. Doyle kept his amusement under slightly better control. he was still chuckling as they arrived at the clinic. As promised, the rooms were empty. Bodie chose the room with an examination bed and a regular cot. He found a couple of blankets, covered Doyle, climbed on the exam table and fell asleep only seconds after his partner.
Doyle opened his eyes. An electric wall clock provided the only light in the room as well as the time. 4:37. The clock did not show AM or PM. Had he slept 2 hours or 14? Doyle stretched. He felt good. Rested. Must be 4:40 AM. He turned towards the other bed. Bodie was lying on his side facing Doyle, knees drawn up, both hands under his head, snoring softly. He was so appealing. Doyle smiled. Love must be deaf as well as blind.
Carefully, in case his feeling of well-being was only temporary, Doyle sat up. The slight noise woke Bodie.
"Work?" he mumbled.
"No. Go back to sleep."
"'M not tired." His statement was more than half a question.
"It's fourteen hours since you brought me here, I think," Doyle said. "Cowley must've found some compassion."
"Compassion? Self preservation, more like."
"What're you on about?"
"You're dangerous enough without being balmy as well. Looked a close thing for a while. You okay now?"
"You tell me." Doyle leaned over his partner and rested his lips on Bodie's. Simple pressure became passion. Passion that both had been incapable of slaking for too long. Bodie moaned into Doyle's mouth then pushed him off.
"Bo-die---" Doyle protested.
"Doyle. I want you. Badly." He rubbed his crotch in unnecessary emphasis. "I do not want you here. In CI5's clinic."
"What if we disappear for an hour? Go to the flat for a shower, a change of clothes,--"
"Cretin." Doyle made his own tactile examination of Bodie's crotch then unlocked the door and went out of the room. Bodie followed. Luck shadowed them. They saw no one in the hallway, nor was anyone on the stairs or in the lift. Doyle held the door for Bodie, then pressed 'G'.
Bodie pulled Doyle to him and rubbed his fabric covered erection against the skinnier pelvis. Doyle's own arousal followed almost instantaneously.
"Bodie, the flat's twenty-five minutes away."
"Fifteen. 'S fifteen to five in the morning." Bodie would not acknowledge his own failing control. The entangled men suddenly collided with one wall of the lift. A grinding of gears and a loud clank accompanied the jolt.
"Shit!" Doyle thumped the control panel with his fist. "Do something!" he ordered his equally trapped partner.
"I plan to." Bodie slid his hands around Doyle's waist and down to cup his cock while one hand opened the zip. Doyle turned to stop Bodie, to berate him. He was stopped by the hopeful need nakedly expressed on Bodie's face. The deeper emotions Bodie usually masked so well were all apparent. He revealed his vulnerability more often than Doyle; it was still seldom enough that Doyle was never able to resist. He never wanted to. Completing his turn, he moved closer into Bodie's arms.
"Never expected you to be so imaginative. I'm flattered."
"Anything to get my hands on you."
"Hands're okay. Mouths're better."
Bodie eagerly accepted. He went to his knees, freeing the full cock from its wrappings. An extended tongue welcomed the engorged phallus into the wet, waiting mouth. Doyle knew he needn't worry about being interrupted. Too soon he felt his muscles gather and tighten. A finger pushed back under his balls. He pushed forward and came. The wall held him up as senses were recovered.
"Bodie?" He looked down, thinking to reciprocate.
"Couldn't wait," Bodie admitted, slightly abashed. He tucked his softened, now sensitive cock back into his pants, stuffed the wet handkerchief into a pocket and stood up, holding Doyle close. "First time in weeks we've had time, opportunity, and capability. Didn't think I'd last long."
"Think we have time to start over?" Doyle asked, lips against his lover's mouth.
"Probably." Bodie strengthened the kiss. "But we'd best let someone know we're here," he said as he came up for air. He picked up the security phone that had been installed after Cowley had been trapped.
"Wait a tick. Have to get rid of the evidence."
Bodie waited for Doyle to explain. The older man reached into Bodie's slacks pocket and pulled out the used handkerchief.
"Evidence. Cowley could have our jobs."
Bodie snatched back the scrap of sticky cotton and stuffed it back into his pocket. "Berk," he declared. "Cowley's never going to search me."
"Not his type?"
"I'm everyone's type, mate. The Cow's just discreet. Wouldn't do it in front of you."
Bodie ignored Doyle's disbelief and dialed 0. They were soon rescued, although the lift was not likely to be repaired for hours. They went down to the carpark to effect their escape. Fortune was not with them. As they got near Bodie's car, Cowley pulled into the parking spot beside them.
"Bodie, Doyle, you both look rested, ready to work. I need you two over at New Scotland Yard. Sit in on an interrogation."
The men exchanged a look.
"Better than being trapped in a lift," Bodie decided.
"And legal," Doyle added.
Cowley ignored the byplay through long practice. His agents seemed to have recovered their usual energy. At such times it was prudent not to ask for explanations. "Undersecretary Timmons is expecting you. 8 AM."
Bodie beamed at Cowley. "Thank you, sir. Time for breakfast," he explained to his superior while hustling Doyle into the car.
"Forty-five minutes from here to the flat and the flat to Scotland Yard. That leaves us an hour."
"And we both need to shower and change. And I am hungry," Doyle said as Bodie revved the engine and sped out of the carpark.
"I'll come up with something."
"Always coming up with 'something'. 'S what I love best about you."
Bodie put his foot to the floor. Every bit of CI5 special driver's training was used to get the men to their flat faster than possible. To put their limited time to its best use. Cowley would have approved of the organizational skill shown by the two, if not the uses to which it was put. The couple more than made up for lost time.
-- THE END --