The Professionals Circuit Archive - One Night in Bangkok	 One Night
in Bangkok

 

by LilyK 

 
 *Written for "Discovered in Graceland" on the discoveredinalj livejournal
community.*

 ******

Bodie carefully shuffled over to the biggest, softest chair in the lounge
and sank slowly onto the scratchy upholstery. With an irritated sigh, he
plucked the sweat-soaked vest away from his body. He didn't know which was
worse: being hidden away in a strange flat, being as hot as Hades in the
middle of this damned heatwave, or being laid out by somebody hell-bent on
killing him.

 "Bloody hell," he muttered, dragging the vest over his head and throwing
it across the room, where it landed on the floor after hitting the wall.
Glaring at the inanimate object, he leaned back and let out a small sigh
of relief when the bit of cooler air blowing from a nearby fan hit his
over-heated body.

 He settled back and rubbed the icy condensation from his cold glass of
water across his forehead. The lights flickered once, twice, then went out
completely.

 "Christ, now what!" The fan's blades ticked softly as they slowed, and
even though he couldn't see his hand in front of his face, he knew exactly
when they had finally stopped. The air around him went heavy, the humidity
practically dripping from it and leaving him barely enough fresh air for a
cleansing breath. Bodie let out an exasperated mutter. Twenty seconds
without the fan, and he was already so hot he thought he'd melt.

 And why was it so dark? Even though his power was out, where was the
light from the street lamps? Bodie craned his neck towards the front
window. There was no welcoming reflection from outside, and even though
the window was partially opened to let in even the slightest waft of a
breeze, the partially closed curtains hung heavily on their rod. Even the
material seemed damp and lank, just like him. Bodie leaned forward, his
ears straining as he listened to the sounds of the night.

 In the distance, he could hear cars as they travelled on the hot tarmac,
but his own temporary neighbourhood seemed devoid of life for the moment.
Worried about the blackness that seemed to invade his hideout, he decided
he had no choice but to look outside. The only problem was that he would
have to actually get out of the chair and walk to the window. Easier said
than done.

 With a resigned grunt, he levered himself up. While he was definitely on
the mend, his still-healing body vehemently protested much movement at the
moment. After the physician had had his hands on Bodie earlier that day,
he was feeling especially rough. Bodie hadn't any choice earlier but to
endure the physician's exam. Cowley had insisted upon it, and in order for
him to even begin to think about working his way back into The Squad, he
had to follow Cowley's instructions to the letter. Today's order was that
he submit to a thorough examination to be sure he was healing adequately,
and to discover what steps his physician would permit as he worked on his
slow but steady recovery process. Bodie had been eager to start on a light
exercise regime, but after today, he wasn't surprised that he hadn't the
energy to do much of anything, even to cross the room. Stupid bloody
assassin anyway...

 The physician's follow-up examination hadn't been intentionally cruel,
but he was extremely thorough. The man had put Bodie through quite an
extensive set of tests before he finally agreed that Bodie could be
partially released from his care. But he made it quite clear that the
healing man must follow a strict list of instructions regarding his
recuperation, and the doctor also explained that Cowley would be advised
of these instructions as well. There were precise descriptions of
exercises to do, the amount of rest Bodie required, and a full, healthy
diet that he would need to follow. Doyle would be so pleased about that
last bit. After Bodie had agreed several times to the physician's demands,
he was finally released from bondage, not required to report back for two
whole weeks.

 It was an exhausted Bodie who had finally grumbled a curt thanks to the
patient doctor before he hobbled out of the man's office and into the
waiting car parked at the kerb with a fidgety Raymond Doyle behind the
wheel. Bodie wasn't the least bit surprised to see Doyle sitting with his
hand on the butt of his weapon, at the ready. Not after Bodie'd almost
been killed by an unknown assailant. But at least Doyle had followed his
request: to wait outside while he visited the doctor on his own. Bodie
would be damned if he'd let Doyle see him struggling against the pain
still running rampant in his body, and after the way his exam had gone, he
knew he'd made the proper decision. Doyle would have had enough fodder for
five years' worth of teasing and nagging if he'd seen Bodie's reactions to
the doctor's examination.

 Remembering Doyle's clipped tone when he had finally made it out to the
kerb, Bodie grinned in spite of his aches and pains. Doyle had demanded to
hear each and every detail of the doctor's instructions, what tests he'd
performed, and exactly what his interim diagnosis was regarding Bodie's
recovery time. Bodie had complained, of course, quite loudly, in fact,
that Doyle wasn't his nursemaid and that the doctor's instructions weren't
any of his business. But inside, Bodie was quite happy with his partner's
level of concern. He needed some pampering after these past few weeks, and
Doyle seemed more than willing to indulge him. In fact, Doyle had driven
him directly to the safe house, planted his battered self on the lumpy
sofa, and made sure he had a fresh glass of orange juice in his hand and a
glass of ice water on the lamp table before he proceeded to make a run to
the shops, stocking Bodie's borrowed pantry with at least a week's
provisions. *"So you can concentrate on getting up and about without
worrying about the shopping,"* Doyle had insisted, even going so far as to
refuse to take Bodie's money for his purchases. *"You'll make it up to me
when you're on your feet, mate,"* his partner had said seriously, his
intense green eyes watching Bodie for any signs of discomfort.

 Lately, Doyle seemed to be quite interested in Bodie's well-being. In
fact, Bodie had noticed that since Doyle had almost died the year before,
he spent more time with Bodie than he did with his various birds. Bodie
thought about his partner's most recent girlfriend, and it was with a
shock that he realised that Doyle hadn't dated since that relationship had
fallen apart, well over three months before. It wasn't like his partner to
hit such a long, dry spell, and the thought made Bodie wonder what was
going on with his best friend. Shifting uncomfortably, the heat drove
thoughts of Doyle from his head, and the frustration at his current state
took precident.

 With the power off, instead of being able to relax and watch the telly
until he drifted off to sleep with the aid of the mild pain-killer he'd
taken, Bodie was stuck in a miserably hot flat with no fan, and no
electricity, and to top it off, the drug seemed to have given him a
headache rather than alleviate any discomfort. Not only that, but no power
also meant no ice once the bit he had in the freezer was gone.

 Bodie made it to the window and glanced out. There wasn't a street light
or a house lamp burning anywhere. The only lights he could see were the
headlamps of cars moving in the distance. He stood, scratching his belly,
wondering how the entire neighbourhood had lost power.

 Before he had time to reason out what could have happened to the
electricity, Bodie's attention was caught by a vehicle turning onto the
deserted road leading to the safe house. Positioned well back from the
main road, to get to his hideaway one had to meander through several
twists and turns before coming to this house. He reached under his left
arm for his gun and was irritated with himself when his fingers landed on
his ribcage, remembering that the damned thing was in the bedroom, under
the pillow. He briefly wondered why he wasn't wearing his weapon while his
assassin still frolicked loose in Greater London, when he recognized the
car that approached slowly. It was Doyle's Capri.

 A grin crossed his face, even as he considered why his partner had
returned when he'd left barely forty-five minutes before for home. As he
watched Doyle climb from the vehicle, he thought again about the lack of
electricity. There could be a lot of reasons for a power cut. There hadn't
been a storm, so it wasn't weather-related, but it could very well be
something as simple as a mechanical failure. Or as deadly as terrorists --
or a single assassin bent on destruction, his bothersome inner self firmly
reminded him.

 Doyle looked up as he came up the pavement, and when he saw Bodie in the
window, he raised a hand, waving him away. Bodie was surprised that his
partner could see him in the darkness, but apparently, he could. There was
some light from the half-moon that had emerged after the clouds had
drifted away, and Doyle did have eyes like a cat. Bodie smirked, thinking
of Doyle as a huge, green-eyed tom cat, skulking about, meandering through
darkened alleys and across rooftops. He wondered if Doyle-cat would like
to be stroked or have its belly scratched.

 Grinning now, he tried to look innocent as he returned Doyle's wave
before he slowly moved towards the front door. By the time he'd unlocked
the triple latches and pulled the door open, Doyle was walking towards
him, led by the high-powered torch he held in his hand.

 "Couldn't stay away from my wonderful companionship?" Bodie asked, a
smirk still playing on his lips. It took a good bit of trouble on his part
to keep an inordinately pleased look from his face, and he didn't even
bother to wonder why seeing his partner made him so very happy.

 "Cheers," Doyle responded, shining the light between them so that they
could see each other's faces. "I said to myself, Doyle, you can't live
another second without your partner's company. You need to rush right over
there and feast your eyes on him right now before you die of longing." He
chuckled, passing over the extra smaller torch he had taken from in his
pocket.

 Bodie laughed as he took the torch. "Berk," he groused, reaching out to
ruffle Doyle's curls. Doyle playfully smacked his hand away, to which
Bodie responded by continuing to try to grab his partner's hair. They
quickly reduced themselves to a sparring game, each man trying to land a
one-handed slap on the other's head. Bodie reached out too quickly and
pulled on his healing arm before he grimaced at the soreness.

 Doyle was instantly contrite. "Sorry! Forgot."

 Bodie waved off his concern. "Coming in?"

 "Yeah," Doyle responded, but he paused in the open doorway, flashing the
light towards the bushes and into the dark corners of the porch and front
yard.

 "What's wrong?" demanded Bodie. From what he could see of Doyle's face,
his partner looked decidedly anxious.

 Doyle waved Bodie inside, quickly locking the door. "Cowley had a whisper
of a kill." At Bodie's raised eyebrow, Doyle nodded. "Yeah, yours. Of
course," he added smartly.

 Bodie rolled his eyes. "Again?"

 "'Fraid so. Seems this bloke, whoever it is, just can't get enough of
you."

 "So it seems. Apparently, blasting me twenty feet across the road wasn't
quite enough sport for this lad. Or lass," Bodie added with a sarcastic
bite and a bitter laugh.

 Doyle shook his head, his eyes narrowed in exasperation. "I wasn't
laughing when I scraped your bloody arse off the street."

 Bodie knew his partner's ire wasn't directed at him, but in usual Doyle
fashion, lashing out at Bodie was the way he coped. "Thanks, mate." Bodie
said seriously.

 Doyle eyed Bodie critically for a long minute before a tug of a smile
crossed his lips. "You look done in."

 "You have a way with words, Doyle. Warms my heart, it does," Bodie said
theatrically, his hand pressed to his clammy chest. With a grimace at the
sweat coating his body, he grumbled, "God, it's hot."

 Doyle let the torch's beam travel around the room, landing on the settee.
He gave a theatrical shiver. "You'd think the Cow would have updated this
dump." He eyed the sofa with disdain and ran a hand through his hair.
"I'll camp out here. You get to bed. Doctor's orders. Past midnight, you
know. You need a hand getting ready?"

 Bodie's eyes narrowed, his irritation rising at being reminded of his
somewhat helpless state. "Jeezus, Doyle, I'm not dead yet. Besides, it's
too hot to sleep."

 Doyle let out a patient sigh, which made Bodie want to hit him. "Come on,
then," Doyle said firmly as he reached out a hand to cup Bodie's elbow.
"I'll fix you something cold to drink. Better use the ice before it melts
anyway."

 "What happened to the power?" Bodie didn't bother shrugging off Doyle's
touch as his partner steered him towards the couch. He wondered about his
own sanity when he considered that in one moment he was irritated with
Doyle's concern and the next, he craved it. Going raving mad shut away
like this. But Doyle's touch did make him feel -- cared for. He liked
having his friend worried about his health and well-being. Bodie let
himself sink into the cushions with a grimace and tossed the small torch
down beside him.

 "Don't know. Cowley rousted me before I got home, so I turned around and
headed back. Was about a mile away when all the lights went out. And I
mean everything. Pubs, houses, traffic lights. Won't be long before
traffic comes to a stand-still for miles."

 "And the looters get out and about for a bit of shopping. He'll be
calling you in for crowd control any moment then."

 "Won't do any good. I probably couldn't get to HQ even with a police
escort. Not with the roads jammed. Can't move deserted motors, even with
sirens and blue lights. Besides, he's ordered me to watch out for your
sorry arse."

 "So I'm stuck with you for the duration," Bodie said, hiding another stab
of pleasure. Doyle chuckled, taking care not to blind Bodie with the light
even as he inspected his partner's face. Bodie grinned under Doyle's
examination, earning him a snort of amusement and a shake of that curly
head.

 Feeling better than he had all day, Bodie leaned back and tried to find a
comfortable place for his aching body. His bruised and battered ribs hurt.
His wrenched elbow, wrapped tightly in an elastic bandage, itched like the
devil. He had a nasty gash on the side of his head that had been stitched
up when he was first injured and now, when he reached up to gingerly touch
the spot where the doctor had removed the sutures earlier today, he could
feel the tiny raised spots where the stitches had been. He knew that one
side of his face where he'd slammed onto the tarmac was a rainbow of
coloured bruises, as were his torso and legs. The bruises were just now
turning a spectacularly ugly yellowish-green colour as they began to fade.

 Pleased to sit back and listen to Doyle rummaging around in the kitchen,
Bodie was content. Since he'd been hurt, they hadn't spent nearly enough
time together. First, he hadn't wanted much company in hospital when he
was in pain and snappish. Then, Cowley had Doyle fetching and carrying for
some Lord Muck from across the pond who needed protection while the berk
was at some big peace conference. Doyle had barely found time to drop by
once a day to make sure Bodie was still alive and well since he'd been
sprung from hospital the week before. But now, his partner was all his
with no chance of interruption. Bodie was happy something was finally
going his way since he'd stumbled onto that half-arsed bomb.

 And stumbled he had. Not having had any warning that somebody was out for
his hide, he hadn't been looking for trouble as he'd walked towards his
car after he'd gone into the chemist's for toothpaste and deodorant. Bodie
knew that he'd be a dead man today if not for the fact that he'd forgotten
the change from his purchases on the shop's counter.

 Bodie remembered what happened in excruciating detail. The shopkeeper had
called to him as he crossed the street, "Sir?" He'd turned and when the
man held out his hand and called, "Your change!", Bodie had smiled and
started back... just as the bomb exploded, throwing him across the road to
land in a bruised and battered heap against the kerb.

 Cowley had come to his hospital room and told him that the device had
been detonated by remote control, and he was still alive only because the
bomber had obviously been too quick on the button. While Bodie had been
injured, he was definitely still alive: the aches and pains coursing
through his body proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt. That, and the
fact that his assassin had been rather incompetent in the bomb detonating
department.

 The clink of ice cubes hitting a glass brought Bodie's thoughts back to
the present and to the stifling room. He grimaced as he thought about his
most recent close call. Not one to take his good fortune for granted, he
was thankful that he was still around to be able to complain about the
heat and the threadbare accommodations. He knew it would take only one
bullet... Or one better-handled explosive device, and he was definitely
that dead man.

 From the kitchen, he heard the sound of Doyle's R/T crackle to life.
Doyle walked into the lounge, torch under his arm, a glass of something in
one hand and his R/T in the other. He handed the glass to Bodie as he
responded to his Controller's voice.

 *"Alpha One to 4.5."*

 "4.5."

 *"Are you with 3.7?"*

 "Yes, sir."

 *"Stay put and keep alert."*

 "Yes, sir. By the way, we're in the dark here. Electricity's gone for at
least a mile in all directions."

 *"I'm aware of the problem. The Home Office has advised me it is a
generator malfunction."*

 "That's good, then, sir. It would have been horrible if some terrorist
group had got to it."

 *"Oh, aye. Still, it's a damned nuisance for most, but it could be the
bit of luck that Bodie's nemesis is looking for. You be careful; the both
of you. You've had fair warning now, and I won't be pleased to see either
of you killed this night."*

 "Ah, right. Thank you. 4.5 out."

 "Considerate of him." Bodie gave Doyle a rueful grin, shaking his head.
"Wouldn't want to inconvenience him now, would we?"

 "Best not disobey orders." Doyle grinned. "Guess I'd better keep a keen
eye on you. It's so bleedin' hot."

 "You doubled back, didn't you?"

 Doyle gave Bodie a patient look. "Nobody followed me."

 "I know. It's just..." Bodie shrugged, wincing slightly. Damn, but when
would his body not hurt?

 "It's not friendly having somebody out for your arse."

 "Not friendly in the least. Makes me rather testy."

 "Don't blame you."

 "Did you bring any beer?"

 "Nope. Not with your meds."

 "I meant for you, moron."

 Doyle grinned. "Had a pint with supper. Thanks for asking." He settled
into the chair beside the sofa and stretched out, crossing his ankles.
"Batteries probably won't last all night."

 "Afraid of the dark?"

 "Not hardly. Still..." Doyle glanced about. "It's a bit unsettling,
everything being black. I'm used to the city lights. Never been one to
live in the sticks."

 "There's a transistor radio in my bag. It'll give us some music, as well
as any news about the power."

 "Yeah. Good idea." Doyle rose and took the large torch as he disappeared
into the back towards the bedroom, plunging Bodie back into the dark. He
could have turned on the extra torch, but he didn't bother.

 Bodie laid his head back and closed his eyes, listening to Doyle as he
moved about, humming something to himself. God, but he liked being with
Doyle. They worked well together, and in the quiet, with just the two of
them, things seemed so right. Easy, most of the time. They had their
differences, their arguments, but all in all, they got on well. And
lately, Bodie had felt their relationship was changing, moving in a new
direction, and he knew he welcomed it. Doyle could feel it as well. Bodie
knew this because he'd seen the changes reflected on his partner's face.
Seen the interest, and the affection. Doyle didn't try to hide it any
more, and for that he was grateful. Bodie knew that Doyle's brush with
life and death after the Kuolo disaster had changed him, and that his
partner looked at him differently now, although Doyle hadn't really
explained everything that he'd experienced while he was in that coma. But
no matter, Bodie was ready. Finally. And tonight... Tonight, being with
his partner felt good, great even. Calm and peaceful, in spite of the
circumstances. He wondered what it was he was feeling, this idea that
being with Doyle made him complete. And even as he wondered, he knew
exactly was it was. He laughed softly.

 "You okay, mate?" Doyle asked, his deep voice entering Bodie's musings,
making him start. He knew he should be on the alert, keeping watch in case
his determined killer returned, but with Doyle here, Bodie knew he was
safe. Doyle would watch his back.

 "Fine," Bodie responded, opening his eyes to glance up. He gave Doyle a
grin and playfully winked.

 Doyle gave Bodie a grin that conveyed his fond exasperation as he flicked
on the small plastic radio. Static filled the room from the tinny speaker.
He twisted the knob until strains of music came through clearly. "Hey,
this is a good one." Doyle set the radio down on the lamp table and
started to hum along.

 Bodie didn't know the words, but he recognised the tune. He'd heard it on
the car's radio a time or two. Doyle's voice was good, having heard a few
bars of this and that when they cruised about London. It was rich and
deep, throaty, and sounded a bit like Elvis. He closed his eyes once again
and enjoyed the sound of Doyle singing along.

 *"Got to hold your body tight; make you scream and shout all night; I'll
do the things that are good to you, baby; I've got the tools I know you're
sure to like...* My singing putting you to sleep there, mate? Or is it bad
enough to knock you out?"

 Bodie laughed softly. "Nah. It's good. Pleasant, you know. Don't stop on
my account." Opening his eyes, Bodie wished that he could see Doyle's eyes
more clearly, so that he could examine his partner's reactions, gauge his
feelings, check to see if they were on the same wave length tonight. That
there was something in the air, besides the heat, threatening to spill
over. But as much as he tried to see Doyle's eyes, they were hidden in the
multi-layered shadows of the torchlight. Still, he could understand his
partner by his body language and he had a shadowed view of his face.
Taking a chance, Bodie said invitingly, "Besides, I wouldn't object."

 "To what?" Doyle asked, innocence colouring his tone.

 "This and that." At Doyle's confused look, Bodie grinned. "The words to
the song, sunshine. Having sex. Shagging. Geez, Doyle, you are thick
tonight."

 "And you're daft." Doyle finally smiled, but there was something in his
tone that brought Bodie to alertness. "You're pulling my leg, right?"

 Not wanting to let on exactly what he was doing, he shrugged and
responded, "That I am." Then suddenly, Bodie realised with a moment of
absolute clarity what he'd heard in Doyle's voice: that Doyle was doing
exactly what he had been doing for a while now. He was testing the waters.
Gauging Bodie's reactions. He was sending suggestive but vague probes
about Bodie's feelings and desires right at him, and waiting to see what
came of them.

 Hiding a pleased smile, Bodie picked up the glass of water he'd forgotten
about and sipped the cold liquid. "God, that's good." Dipping his fingers
into the glass, he trailed them across his neck and down his chest. "I'm
so bloody hot." Bodie fished out an ice cube and wiped it down his chest,
sighing with pleasure. He slid the icy block across his nipple, almost
shivering at the sudden coldness. The tightening nub made him grit his
teeth, and with as much innocence as he could muster, he raised his head
to observe Doyle.

 Doyle's eyes were firmly locked on Bodie's fingers.

 The melting cube left a trail of cool sweetness, and the resulting water
drops skimmed down Bodie's chest toward the waistband of his tracksuit
bottoms. Smiling to himself, he continued to move the cube across his skin
and up to the hollow of his throat where he wiped the last of the tiny
shard of ice up and across his neck. Then, with the palm of his hand, he
stroked his chest, spreading the water. Breaking the silence, he finally
said, "Wish that fan was working. It would feel really nice having the
breeze blowing across my body. Did you know that the effect of the water
evaporating makes your skin feel very cool?"

 Bodie watched as Doyle swallowed and seemed to have a bit of trouble
looking away from Bodie's chest. "Eh?"

 Bodie laughed, tickled at the response from his friend. Doyle looked
dazed as he blinked slowly, and when his partner shifted in his seat,
Bodie knew that Doyle's body was reacting to his wanton display. Keeping
his tone casual, he asked, "Sip?" as he held out the glass, condensation
dripping down the sides and onto his leg.

 "Ta," Doyle said, licking his lips while he shook his head as if to
refocus.

 With a pleasant smile, Bodie handed over the glass. He saw the slight
tremor in Doyle's hand and the quizzical look on his face. Bodie felt his
own body start to respond, and he almost shouted his elation at the top of
his lungs. Reason intruded, and kept him quiet for the moment. He had to
be sure Doyle felt as he did. In the silence, the disc jockey's voice
seemed to echo through the room when the title and artist of the completed
song was mentioned. Then the disc jockey told his listening audience the
chart position for the song, and suddenly, for Bodie, everything click
into place the final time.

 He had been playing with Doyle, he realised, messing about, seeing what
would happen if he flirted, but now he understood exactly what he'd
actually been doing. He had been flirting, of course, but it wasn't just
for kicks. It was for Doyle. He didn't want to be number twelve with
Doyle. Bodie didn't even want to be number seven, or five, or even number
three. He wanted to be his number one. With a bullet.

 And Doyle seemed quite amenable to Bodie's advances. Or at least
responsive to them. Now all Bodie had to do was make a definite move, and
see what kind of a reaction he got. He shifted in his seat and with a
thought to his current condition, he realised that since Doyle had
arrived, most of the aches and pains seemed to have drifted into the
background, and while he was still somewhat stiff and sore, he felt better
than he had in many days. Without a doubt, being with Doyle made him feel
better mentally and physically, and tonight, he didn't bothering to try to
argue himself out of that thought as he had on other occasions. He decided
to go after what he wanted. Tonight. After yet another close call with
death, he pragmatically reckoned that this moment was a good as any. The
grim reaper didn't leave calling cards, and Bodie didn't know when he'd be
his guest. He was alive and Doyle was close. Having Doyle in his arms
tonight would make everything right with his world, no matter the future.

 ******

Bodie knew what he wanted and even though he wanted what he desired
immediately, he was determined to go about it in the proper manner. He had
to approach Doyle carefully. It was important that Doyle was as interested
as he was, and that his partner came into his bed willingly, not out of
some matey sense of guilt or obligation. From bits and pieces of their
conversations over the years, he surmised that Doyle hadn't been with a
man before. Needing time to think, he put his head back and closed his
eyes. He could practically feel Doyle looking at him. In his mind's eye,
he envisioned his partner's careful scrutiny as Doyle took in his chest,
his arms, his stomach... He stayed very still, regulating his breathing so
that it was slow and steady. Let Doyle think that he'd drifted off to
sleep. It would give him time to think, to plan. While sex with men wasn't
exactly new to him, having dabbled a bit years ago, loving a man was very
new. And with his best friend, it was worth doing this right. He deserved
that much. They both did.

 Bodie almost laughed, but he managed to keep himself relaxed and under
control. He had admitted to himself that he loved Doyle, and the very
idea, instead of making him grimace and wonder at his sanity, made him
feel quite -- jovial. He and Doyle had been through a lot together. Almost
ten years of CI5, and George Cowley, and terrorists, mad bombers,
arsonists, and killers, to name but a few. And they'd managed to survive,
pretty much intact. Without a doubt, it was because they were together
that they had made it this far. With another startling revelation, Bodie
knew that they'd always be together and wouldn't willingly be parted for
love nor money. He let the warmth the idea brought flow through his body
and suffuse into his soul. The idea set well with him, and his heart was
content.

 Bodie only hoped Doyle would agree.

 ******

Bodie broke the silence by saying, "This is a very weird song." His eyes
opened, and he grinned as he rolled his eyes.

 "Pardon?"

 "You sleeping, mate?"

 "No. Just... thinking. What did you say?"

 "Said this is a strange tune." Bodie listened for a moment before he
repeated the lyrics, *"I'll protect you from the hooded claw; keep the
vampires from your door.* It's creepy. Best not to have a devil's spawn
for your bedmate."

 Doyle laughed. "It's not all that bad. Some of the words are quite nice.
Let's see..." he said, falling silent while the song continued until he
started to sing along, *"When the chips are down, I'll be around. With my
undying, death-defying love for you.* Hey, that's very sweet. A bit on the
romantic side, but still nice." At Bodie's cocky grin, he hastily added,
"If you go for that sort of thing."

 "You don't like romance?"

 "Do you?" Doyle asked suspiciously.

 "I asked first." At Doyle's scowl, he finally admitted, "Yeah, I do.
Romance is good for the soul. Ask any bird."

 "Ah ha! Birds. Yeah, they live for romance. Flowers, walks in the park,
puppies and kittens, St. Valentine's Day. But most blokes aren't romantic
on their own. The girls have to push them into it."

 Bodie shrugged. "I don't know about that. I'll have you know that I'm a
romantic."

 Doyle stared at Bodie for a full minute before he started to laugh. "Sure
you are, mate."

 Bodie groused with good nature, "I am! Well, I can be."

 "And just who do you intend to be romantic with, seeing as you're laid up
here with nobody around but me." Bodie was silent, their eyes locked on
each other, until he saw Doyle's widened briefly as he leaned forward, the
torch's beam making his eyes sparkle. After a moment, Doyle laughed again,
but Bodie could hear a touch of hopefulness in his words that he covered
with his light tone. "You had me there for a second, sunshine. I admit I
almost gave thought to the idea for a moment, you were going to say you
were going to get -- romantic with me."

 While his partner acted like he found the whole idea of being romantic
with Bodie daft, Bodie could see the hint of interest in his eyes. He kept
close watch when Doyle fidgeted for a moment, his interested gaze flicking
down Bodie's bare chest once again. When Doyle's tongue licked his own
lips, Bodie smiled, rubbing his chest and making sure to touch his
nipples. He was pleased to see his partner's eyes follow his hand as he
moved it down his belly to rest on his thigh. He let his fingers drape
across his crotch, and idly he scratched himself. Doyle swallowed; Bodie
watched his throat ripple, and wondered what it would be like to lick the
salt from Doyle's neck and to dip his tongue in the hollow of his throat.

 Doyle's scrutiny sent a satisfied thrill through him, Bodie gave a
chuckle, waiting until he looked up. "Would it bother you if I did?" Bodie
teased, but before Doyle could respond, he said, "It's bloody hot in
here."

 "So you said. And keep saying. Endlessly, I might add."

 "You're an arse."

 "Takes one to know one."

 "Berk."

 "Moron."

 When their eyes met, they studied each other. After a moment, they began
to laugh, and Bodie felt a bit of satisfaction. The first seed had been
planted in Doyle's mind. Now all he had to do was fertilize the crop and
see what blossomed.

 ******

Doyle restlessly paced the lounge, occasionally peeking out of the corner
of the curtains he'd drawn across the window earlier.

 "Will you sit down?" Bodie groused. "You're making me nervous."

 "Too hot," Doyle responded, once again peering out. Bodie could see the
tenseness of his shoulders as his head swivelled left to right and back
again.

 "Anything?"

 "Quiet as a grave."

 "Oh, ta for that image, mate."

 "Sorry."

 "No matter. Christ, it's hot."

 "Bodie!" Doyle turned, hands on hips.

 "Eh?" Bodie answered innocently.

 Doyle sighed. "Do you want more water? There might be some juice left."

 "Any more ice?"

 "A bit."

 "Water, please," Bodie said, smiling. Feeling magnanimous, he added,
"You're a good partner."

 Doyle cast him an exasperated glance. "Yeah, right. I'm hungry."

 "Could do with a snack. Did you buy any Swiss rolls?"

 "Not on your life," Doyle snapped as he picked up the smaller torch and
headed towards the kitchen. "I'll get you some fruit."

 Bodie grimaced before he finally agreed, "I'll have an apple."

 "Good choice."

 "Wanker," Bodie muttered.

 Doyle poked his head back around the doorway. "I heard that."

 Laughing, Bodie shook his head. "Doyle?"

 "Yeah?"

 Bodie grinned, listening to Doyle move about the kitchen. "I'm glad
you're here," he called, keeping his voice casual.

 Carrying a glass of ice water and two apples, Doyle handed one of the
apples to Bodie. "You must have been hit on the head harder than I
thought." Doyle stared down into the glass before he raised his head.
"Been worried about you."

 "Thanks, mate. It's -- pleasant, having somebody worried about me." Bodie
gave Doyle a warm smile before he purposefully whined, "I've been feeling
rather neglected."

 After sipping the cool water, Doyle licked his lips, a grin plastered on
his face. He pursed his lips before he shook his head knowingly. "Poor
bugger. Nobody loves you?"

 "You do." The words were blurted out, but once they'd been let loose,
Bodie realised that he didn't mind; that it was make or break, and tonight
was the night he'd already decided to find out where he stood with his
partner. Bodie watched Doyle intently as he seemed to consider Bodie's
words.

 "Yeah, I do," Doyle finally said with conviction.

 They fell silent, comfortable with each other's company in spite of the
danger and the heat, and the admission from Doyle's lips. Bodie crunched
his apple while he watched his friend, who lay sprawled on the end of the
sofa in his usual pose: his long legs stretched out and crossed at the
ankles, and in jeans far too tight for the hot weather, Bodie admired the
muscled thighs pressed against the denim. He examined more of Doyle's
body, and what he saw made him flush. The tight shirt stretched over
Doyle's well-toned chest, and the material was thin enough to show the
outline of his nipples. From the collar, light-brown chest hair curled.
Bodie ached to reach out and stroke the skin along the collar. He turned
his face away before Doyle caught his intense inspection and concentrated
on his apple, finishing it quickly. At this rate, he'd be begging Doyle
for his touch any second. He smiled to himself at his own foolishness and
kept a close eye on Doyle when his partner pushed himself up from the sofa
to once again check the outside from a slit in the drawn curtains.

 The disc jockey talked on, giving the entertainment headlines of the day.
When the man told his listening audience that it was the seventh
anniversary of Elvis Presley's death, Bodie said, "Seven years since The
King passed. Seems just like yesterday."

 Doyle turned and nodded. "Yeah, remember exactly where I was."

 "With me."

 "You remember?"

 "'Course I remember. We were on that dodgy smuggling caper with those
horrible counterfeit bonds. Waste of our time as I recall."

 "Right. That was a waste of valuable time." Doyle paused before he
offered, "I used to dress like Elvis when I was a lad. Wasn't more than
twelve or thirteen, and I thought I was pretty cool."

 "I can picture you in black leather, tight jeans and slicked-back hair.
Not much different than nowadays, other than the hair."

 Doyle laughed, running a hand through his curls. "Used to plaster it down
with handfuls of gloop to smooth out the waves. But I had a hell of a nice
curl on me forehead. Birds seemed to like it."

 Bodie chuckled, picturing a teen-aged Doyle. "What was your favourite
Elvis picture?"

 Walking over to the sofa, Doyle sat back. While Bodie thought a young
Doyle might be interesting, this Doyle, in these particular skin-tight
jeans, was a wet dream on two legs. He couldn't contain his grin, and
Doyle seemed to catch Bodie's good humour because he grinned in return.
"King Creole."

 "How'd that one go?" Bodie asked, hoping to entice Doyle into singing
again.

 Doyle tugged on his own ear while his forehead crinkled. "Let's see..."
He hummed for a moment, concentrating, before he sang aloud, *"There's a
man in New Orleans who plays rock 'n roll, He's a guitar man with a great
big soul, He lays down a beat like a ton of coal, He goes by the name of
King Creole...* I used to sing that one a lot."

 Bodie laughed. "That was pretty good, but I'd stick with CI5, mate. Don't
think you'd make much money on the big tour."

 Laughing in response, Doyle asked, "What was yours?"

 "Speedway."

 "Why? Because all the birds had big breasts?"

 Bodie scowled. "No, you moron. Because I always fancied myself a racing
driver."

 Both men laughed before silence settled yet again over them, covering the
torch-lit room like a warm blanket. The radio droned on and the next
selection started. The music was the bouncy sort and Bodie listened for a
moment. He hadn't heard this particular song before, and the singer's
voice caught his attention. The way the tune was presented was
particularly catchy. The singer, a fellow, spoke a stanza or two before he
broke into song. The words in the refrain made his eyes widen momentarily
as he had a sudden flashback of his younger days. The chorus was
particularly telling to him: *One night in Bangkok makes a hard man
humble, not much between despair and ecstasy.* Bodie almost stopped
breathing and leaned forward.

 "What is it?" Doyle asked.

 "Nothing. Hang on a bit." Bodie listened to the next line: *One night in
Bangkok and the tough guys tumble; can't be too careful with your company.
I can feel the devil walking next to me.* He was quiet until the song
ended, then he said, "Been to Bangkok myself. Was quite the -- very
friendly place."

 "Oh? When was that?"

 "Long ago, mate. Long ago. Wasn't much past sixteen when we docked there.
I admit it was one of the more interesting experiences of my rather
reckless youth."

 Bodie could see the interest radiating from his friend's face. He knew he
didn't talk about his old life much, and that Doyle had always been
curious. He wasn't surprised when Doyle asked, "What happened?"

 Suddenly willing to talk, Bodie still had an image to maintain, so he
nonchalantly shrugged. "Let's call it a learning experience. Learnt more
in two days than I had in a lifetime before. I was an innocent kid, as far
as- Well, let's just say I was still a virgin."

 "You? A virgin?" Doyle asked incredulously.

 Bodie glared, feigning outrage. "You think I was born shagging birds?"

 "No, but I can't imagine you a virgin. What happened, then? Get the
clap?"

 After an exasperated sigh, Bodie said laughingly, "No, I did not get the
clap. I -- found out things about myself... Forget it. Nothing you'd be
interested in hearing."

 "You brought it up, and now you want me to leave it? No way. What
happened, Bodie? Come on, spill it," cajoled Doyle.

 Shifting uncomfortably, he wondered if he felt a sudden flush of heat
because he was hurting or because he was horny thinking about his younger
days. After a long silence, Bodie finally admitted, "Discovered
whorehouses, if you must know."

 "And...?"

 "You're not going to let this go, are you?" Wondering if he was about to
blow the best friendship, the best partnership in his life if he
continued, he paused.

 "No."

 "All right, then," Bodie said firmly, forging onward. "I didn't know
bollocks about shagging. After that night and the next, I knew."

 Doyle gave him a questioning look before he finally asked, "Learned a
lot, then?"

 Bodie couldn't help the small smile that played across his lips.
"Honestly, yes I did." In the torch's light, he struggled to see his
partner's face clearly. He needed to see Doyle's eyes, to gauge his
reactions as he explained what had happened, so Bodie reached out and
fiddled with the torch until he manoeuvred the beam to play across his
partner's face. Thoughtfully, he drummed his fingers against the wooden
table top as he thought about what he was going to say. After clearing his
throat, he began his tale.

 "Sailors have a sort of an initiation when they're in port. I was the
youngest man on board and somehow they figured out I hadn't done it
before. Was still a virgin. So my pals took me 'round to the bars, and I
was fairly pissed when we went to one of the whorehouses down by the
docks. It wasn't one of those filthy holes, but a better class of place."
Bodie chuckled at the memory. "The whore was quite nice, as I recall.
Creamy skin, almond eyes, red lips. I wasn't sure about the place so I
tried to get out of it, claiming I was too drunk to get it up, but the
whore promised my mates that by the end of the evening, I'd no longer be a
virgin." Bodie grinned. "Explained about the ways to make a man respond,
even if the customer, meaning me, was rather toasted."

 "Must have been a fun experience."

 "It was quite -- enjoyable."

 Doyle cocked his head, his interest apparent. "What aren't you telling
me?"

 "My mates were laughing their heads off when they left. I felt like I'd
missed the joke somehow. Hell, they even paid, but I didn't know what was
so amusing."

 "And did you?"

 "Did I what?"

 "Perform, moron."

 Bodie snorted. "You'd better believe it. The whore took me upstairs, and
undressed me. Talented fingers; deadly mouth on that one." Bodie smiled,
remembering. "Had me hard in no time. Up 'til then, I'd only known me own
hand. When those red lips wrapped around my cock, I was done in. Took less
than five minutes," he finally admitted with an amused glance.

 Doyle laughed. "Quick on the draw?"

 With an answering laugh, Bodie nodded. "Ever so quick that night."

 "Did you ever get to the grand finale?"

 "Oh, yeah. We had a grand finale, complete with fireworks."

 "So you got it up again? You randy toad."

 Bodie turned towards Doyle and smiled. "No, mate, I didn't get it up
again. But I did get the full treatment. Enjoyed it so much that I went
back the next night before we set sail. Made sure I was sober as a judge
just to be certain." Bodie waited, letting the silence stretch while he
let Doyle's anticipation build. "I liked it even more when he fucked me
the second time."

 ******

"But you shag women!" was Doyle's surprised response.

 Bodie gave him a look of amused exasperation. "And your point is...?"

 "You're not queer!"

 Shaking his head, Bodie smiled. "Let's just say that I have experimented
on occasion, but since joining this mob, I've kept to the straight and
narrow." At that, Bodie started to laugh. "Straight and narrow!" he
repeated. "Not hardly, but I know when to lay low and how to stay alive.
How about you?"

 "Me?" Doyle asked, his voice two octaves higher than normal. "I've
never... I hadn't thought about it."

 Bodie raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you haven't? Not even with -- me?"

 "Bodie!"

 Bodie let his gaze move from Doyle's eyes to his mouth and downward. He
took his time, examining each inch with relish. "I have. Often."

 "Bodie?" Doyle asked quietly, his astonishment at Bodie's revelation
still evident on his face. He had to give his partner credit. Once he gave
thought to Bodie's admission, his composure returned quickly and his next
question was, "How long?"

 "Since the moment I first clapped eyes on you, angelfish."

 "All that time? But you never -- said anything."

 "What was I supposed to say? I want to screw you? Give it a rest.
Besides, I wouldn't. It's not for everybody, and certainly not without
your cooperation... and your blessing. You're -- the best partner I could
ever have. Care about you too much to mess it up." At Doyle's still
surprised expression, Bodie smiled, putting a hand on Doyle's arm. "Didn't
think I had that much self-control, did you?" Doyle shook his head. "For
you, and with you, I'm a different fellow. Shagging women is a hobby,
something to pass the time, pleasant enough in its own way. And it's
expected of a suave bloke like me," he added cheekily. "But being your
partner means my life. In more ways than one, obviously," he added,
haphazardly waving a hand around. "Who else would sit with me in a bloody
furnace of a safe house through the night and keep me safe?"

 Their eyes met. Doyle's were larger than he'd ever seen before. Bodie
could see curiosity and surprise, but there was something else... "I
would," Doyle said with conviction, "I'll always keep you safe."

 "I know," he answered, finally seeing what he'd hoped for in Doyle's
eyes. With a tightening in his throat, he said, "Cheers."

 ******

"What's it like?"

 Bodie raised an eyebrow. "Doing it with another man? Fucking him?"

 "Yeah, that -- and..."

 "Being fucked?" Even in the bad light, Bodie could see Doyle blush, which
made him smile. Doyle was anything but shy when it came to sex and birds.
This was a new side of his partner that Bodie hadn't seen before. "It's
different. Interesting, because only another bloke can know what it feels
like, where it's best, how it works." Bodie studied Doyle when he said,
"What places make you scream the loudest."

 "Shit," Doyle whispered, quickly pushing up from the sofa.

 "You asked. If it makes you uncomfortable thinking about it, we don't-"

 Doyle turned toward Bodie, his hands clenched. "No!" Bodie waited,
minutely examining Doyle as his partner closed his eyes and swallowed,
watching for signs of rejection, of disgust from him. He held his breath
when he saw Doyle struggling to gather his thoughts and when he managed to
speak again, Doyle's voice was calmer. "No, it doesn't make me
uncomfortable. I've... thought about it," he finally admitted. "Plenty of
times."

 Bodie felt a wave of relief crash through him. He slipped to the end of
the sofa cushion. He knew he had to tread carefully lest he scare off his
best friend. Outwardly, Doyle was tough and dangerous, good at his job,
and hard as nails, but inside, the parts that Doyle kept buried deep and
guarded zealously, were vulnerable and easily damaged. "With me?" he asked
quietly.

 Bodie knew his partner had courage, and he saw that courage rise to the
fore. Doyle hesitated for only a moment before nodded. After he licked his
lips, he answered firmly, "Yeah."

 "You never said."

 "You never asked."

 "Suppose not."

 "Do you want -- it?"

 Bodie cocked his head, keeping his face calm. "It's too hot."

 Doyle looked at Bodie with a mix of surprise and irritation. "You're
saying no because it's too hot? You think because you've had experience
that you can play with my head? Tell me you want me and make me want you,
then turn about and tell me no? Are we playing games here, Bodie?"

 Pushing carefully from the sofa, Bodie moved close to his partner until
their faces were inches apart. He wanted to pull Doyle into his arms. He
wanted to explore that tantalising mouth and taste every inch of it. But
he had to know, had to be sure Doyle was serious about this. His life, and
Doyle's, depended on what happened next.

 "No games, Ray. Not about this. It's too important. I needed to know what
you thought, what you wanted, and how you'd respond. I didn't say no
because it's too hot... Yeah, I said it, but that's not what I meant. I
promise you, I will say no because I won't be your one-off. Not tonight,
not ever." At Doyle's silence, he added, "Do you understand? I'm telling
you my deepest, darkest secrets so you can think about it. We either stay
as we are, or we change everything. I know what I want, but it's mostly
your decision."

 "Christ, Bodie."

 "Don't fret, mate," Bodie said calmly, seeing the emotions flash across
Doyle's face. "I'm not going anywhere unless you toss my sorry arse to the
kerb. I'm content to keep our partnership the way it is. It's damned near
perfect, anyway. I'll always watch your back, Ray. Where we go from here
is up to you."

 "Bodie... It's too important... We both need to decide. Together."

 Bodie smiled, and raising a hand, almost touched Doyle's cheek. At the
last moment, he hesitated. Doyle smiled in return and pressed his hand to
the back of Bodie's, guiding it the last few inches until his palm cupped
Doyle's cheek.

 Doyle's eyes were full of invitation when he asked, "Kiss me?"

 "Ray..." Bodie moved forward slowly, brushing their lips together. The
velvet flesh felt soft and warm under his mouth. He let out a small moan
before he pressed more firmly, while still keeping his kisses light. His
lips played across Doyle's for a few moments before he let the tip of his
tongue lightly flick out. When Doyle's hands moved to Bodie's shoulders,
Bodie smiled against the inviting mouth. "Ah, Christ, Ray," he muttered
softly, pulling his partner into his arms. Doyle came willingly, making
Bodie chuckle as his arms tightened. His mouth touched Doyle's ear and he
whispered, "I'm in love with you, you know."

 Bodie felt Doyle stiffen and pull back. He was almost afraid to look into
Doyle's eyes; afraid he'd see something he dreaded, rejection; that he'd
gone too far with his unplanned admission. Bodie tightly closed his eyes
and froze, the heavy, damp night air closing around him. He clamped his
lips together tightly.

 "Bodie," Doyle said, touching Bodie's lips with a fingertip. "Come on,
sunshine. Open those eyes and look at me." Bodie did as bid, as usual.
Doyle's voice was a familiar as his own, well-loved and meant to be
heeded. "Don't look so frightened!"

 "Not," Bodie growled, making Doyle chuckle.

 "Right. I can see that. Must have been mistaken. Are you listening? I
have something to say, and I'd appreciate it if you'd mind my words." When
Doyle seemed satisfied that Bodie was paying attention, he said, "I'm in
love with you as well. You daft bastard. I never expected... I didn't
think you'd ever say that to me."

 "Jeezus, Ray," Bodie said as he yanked him close and clamped their mouths
together.

 They kissed passionately for many long moments before they broke for a
quick breath. Barely sucking in air, they returned to their kissing, hands
groping each other clumsily. When Bodie shuddered, Doyle abruptly released
him. "For God's sake, Bodie! Are you all right? I almost forgot... Sit
down before you fall down!"

 Bodie allowed Doyle to guide him back onto the sofa. "Sorry, mate. Got a
bit shaky there for a second."

 "Are you in pain?"

 "No. I'm in shock."

 Doyle smiled. "My fault, I suppose."

 With an answering smile, Bodie said, "I wasn't expecting this either. I'd
hoped, of course, but-"

 "You expected rejection," Doyle interrupted. With a look of amused
exasperation, he said, "Used to it, I suppose, considering all the birds
you've run through the past few years. Not from me, mate. You're stuck
with me."

 Bodie smiled. "Couldn't think of anybody else I'd rather be stuck with.
Reckon it's about the best thing that's happened to me, ever."

 "You're a slick-tongued devil, aren't you?" Doyle grinned. "Berk."

 Bodie nodded happily. "Like to show you just how slick it can be."

 "All right."

 Jerking back a few inches, Bodie couldn't keep the surprise from his face
when he asked, "As easy as that?"

 "As easy as that. What do you say we give that mattress a work-out?"

 "I'd say yes."

 Together they laughed before Doyle tilted his head. With a groan, he
said, "We've just declared our undying love to each other. You know what
that means, Bodie?" Puzzled, Bodie shook his head so Doyle added, "The
song playing on the radio right now? It's our song now."

 Bodie listened for a moment before he screwed up his face and crunched
his eyes. "No," he whined. "Any song but that one. It's horrible!"

 "But it's our song! For all time." Doyle said dramatically, struggling
not to laugh. "It's what was playing when we made our vows, so whenever we
hear it, we'll be reminded of our everlasting love." Theatrically, he
planted his hand over his heart.

 Bodie rolled his eyes and snapped up the torch. With his free hand, he
tugged Doyle in the direction of the bedroom. He had to laugh when Doyle
started to sing along to the silly song: *"An invisible man sleeping in
your bed. Who you gonna call? Ghostbusters!"*

 Stopping at the foot of the bed, Bodie clasped Doyle's upper arms with
his hands. "Invisible man, my arse. You're going to see everything I have
on offer."

 Bodie was very pleased when Doyle returned his intense look with one of
his own and said firmly, "Same here, mate. I'm all yours."

 ******

In the tiny bedroom, Bodie felt Doyle tense. His hands fell away and Doyle
shook his head as he took a step backwards.

 "Ray?" Bodie felt a sudden flush of disappointment wash through him when
he saw Doyle start to retreat. He briefly closed his eyes and pursed his
lips before he forced himself to look at his partner. "You've changed your
mind," he said flatly.

 In the glow of the torch, Bodie saw his partner shake his head. "No! It's
not that! I'd clean forgotten! You're in no condition to be flopping
around, bonking your balls off. You've only been out of hospital-"

 Bodie moved quickly, his hands returning to Doyle's upper arms and his
mouth fusing onto the lips that were talking way too much. He kissed him
roughly, plunging his tongue between yielding lips to take him in a
searing kiss. When they finally broke apart, both men were panting
harshly. Bodie finally recovered enough to growl, "Satisfied I'm game for
this?"

 Wide eyes met his, and Doyle nodded dazedly, making Bodie laugh. Doyle
grinned in response. "You're game for this, but I'm calling the shots."

 "Eh?"

 "You're going to lie back and let me do the work. It's that or you're on
your own tonight, sunshine."

 "You're serious," Bodie stated as he let his amused chagrin blaze forth.
"That's blackmail!" At Doyle's nonchalant shrug and conspiratorial grin,
Bodie glared unsuccessfully until he finally nodded. "All right," he
answered as ungraciously as possibly. "Wanker."

 "Cheers," Doyle said cheekily. "Now lie down, and I'll be right back."

 Bodie sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "Now what?" he said, hating
the whine he heard in his voice. Doyle merely laughed.

 "You'll see," At Bodie's raised eyebrow, Doyle grinned. "Trust me. Now
get them off," he ordered, pointing to Bodie's tracksuit bottoms, "and get
your arse into bed."

 "You are friggin' bossy!" Bodie yanked off his bottoms. "And hurry up!"
he called out as Doyle disappeared, taking the torch and leaving Bodie in
darkness. He grinned and climbed onto the bed, waiting for his -- lover's
return. His lover; that had a nice ring to it. He blinked into the
darkness, his eyes adjusting to the lack of light after a few moments.
Fingers of moonlight streaming through the window cast enough illumination
into the room that he could see quite clearly now. He watched the night
sky through the upper pane of glass. The stars seemed to wink in and out
against the black velvet of the night sky. As he observed the clear night,
he wondered where his partner was. "Doyle?"

 "I'm here," Doyle said, entering the room, carrying the torch. The beam
of light bounced off the walls as he set it on the bedside table, along
with a blue and white plastic bowl.

 "What's that? A snack?" Bodie asked hopefully.

 "No, it's not food. Pig." Doyle grinned, stripping off his t-shirt.
"You'll see soon enough." He tossed his shirt aside and quickly removed
his shoes, socks, jeans, and with just a bit of hesitation, finally his
underpants.

 Bodie watched Doyle intently. "Nice."

 "Thanks." He eyed Bodie's naked form appreciatively for a moment before
he shook his head. "You'd be fantastic if you weren't covered in bruises
from head to toe! If I get my hands on the bastard who did this-"

 "Doyle," Bodie held out his hand, "get your arse over here and stop
talking so much!"

 "Sorry."

 "No need. I understand. I'm nervous as well. God, you feel so good!"
Bodie pulled Doyle close and began to run his hands over warm flesh before
he wrapped an arm around the slim waist and nuzzled Doyle's neck. "What's
in the bowl?" he whispered, his mouth moving along as it laid a trail of
kisses on tasty skin until he reached Doyle's mouth.

 They kissed for a few minutes before Bodie felt the bed jiggle and then
let out a yelp of surprise.

 "Doyle! That's cold! What is it?"

 "Ice cube, you berk." Doyle held up the small cube, grinning.

 Bodie clamped a hand over the nipple that Doyle had touched with the
cube. "Are you mad? That's freezing!"

 "No, just having a bit of fun. It's so hot. I thought this would cool you
off. Now lie back and relax."

 "Relax? With an ice cube? Ray! Shit, that's cold!"

 "That's the idea." Doyle rubbed the cube on Bodie's chest before holding
it against one nipple then the other. As he held the cube on Bodie's right
nipple, Doyle's mouth licked and sucked the left, making Bodie squirm.
Doyle switched places several times until Bodie was shuddering under his
lover's fingers and holding Doyle's head against his skin.

 "Feels -- weird," Bodie admitted. "But nice. Hot and cold... God!"

 As the cube melted, Doyle licked the droplets, moving up to Bodie's neck.
He reached into the bowl and snagged another cube, giving Bodie's face and
neck the same treatment. He rubbed the cube across Bodie's skin first,
then licked up the water. By the time Doyle had moved to Bodie's stomach
and attached his naval, Bodie was panting and hard, his cock leaking from
his arousal.

 "Christ, Ray...." Bodie whispered, moaning. "Don't stop."

 "Like that, do you?"

 "Uh huh."

 Doyle laughed, moving another cube through Bodie's pubic hair. Bodie
raised his head when the licking and nuzzling suddenly stopped and glanced
down. Doyle smiled up at him and slowly put the cube into his mouth. With
an evil grin, he leaned down and sucked the head of Bodie's cock into his
mouth, letting the heat of his mouth and the cold of the cube meld
together onto the heated skin.

 "Ray!" Bodie shouted, thrusting up into the hot cavern surrounding him.
Doyle's tongue stroked the underside as he writhed on the bed, and his
lover's hands held him firmly as his hips bucked. The combination of hot
and cold felt wonderful. He felt himself teeter on the edge of orgasm and
reached down to shove Doyle off. "Ray, jeezus... Doyle!"

 "What?" Doyle growled. "Can't you see I'm busy down here?"

 Bodie laughed. "Christ, Ray, I'm trying to warn you, you daft bugger!"

 Doyle looked truly confused. "Warn me?"

 "Didn't want to come in your mouth uninvited. Not polite, you know."

 Laughing, Doyle wrapped a hand around Bodie's hard cock and stroked. "You
are a nutter. Besides," he said leaning down to lick at the fluid dripping
from the slit, "you taste grand." With a final grin at his partner,
Doyle's mouth wrapped around the cock he held firmly in his grasp and
sucked firmly, making Bodie cry out with the sudden sensation.

 "Moron," Bodie muttered affectionately, flopping back to let Doyle have
his way. Bodie was pleasantly surprised that his partner was such a quick
study. Doyle used his lips, teeth and tongue on Bodie's cock. What he
lacked in experience, he more than made up in exuberance, and he brought
Bodie to the edge of orgasm quickly once again. Bodie closed his eyes,
letting himself float on the sensations coursing through him. Then Doyle
momentarily moved away, but before Bodie could protest his leaving, the
talented mouth was back, nibbling at him, making him squirm again. Blindly
seeking more friction, he groaned, pumping his hips. He reached down to
touch himself but his hand was batted away.

 "Mine," Doyle said firmly.

 Bodie opened one eye. "Eh? Possessive little sod."

 "Hands off. This is my show tonight, sunshine."

 Bodie laughed wildly at the entire situation, amazed at the very idea
that Doyle was doing him at all. Doyle pumped Bodie's cock with one hand,
and Bodie let out a yelp when he grinned mischievously and grabbed Bodie's
balls. "Doyle!"

 Doyle laughed when the ice cube he'd concealed in his hand connected with
Bodie's sensitive skin. Before he could protest, Doyle once again took
Bodie's cock into his mouth, this time taking in as much as possible while
his hand rubbed the freezing cube on his balls. Bodie's eyes widened and
his mouth fell open, and he thrust wildly into Doyle's throat. The duel
sensations warred against each other. His balls were cold; his dick hot.
Almost overwhelmed, he felt himself shudder, but before he had a chance to
cry out again, his partner's talented fingers found a sensitive spot right
behind his balls and teasingly rubbed. Bodie came with a shout that
rattled the windows.

 Coming back to himself many minutes later, Bodie sighed contentedly.
"Bloody hell, Ray, that was fantastic."

 Doyle lay snuggled against Bodie's side, his head close as they shared a
pillow. "You're welcome."

 Bodie roused himself enough to ask, "What about you? Didn't plan on
leaving you behind. Not proper at all."

 "Too late."

 "Eh?" Bodie raised his head to look into his partner's eyes. Doyle
grinned sheepishly. "Did you do it yourself already?"

 "Didn't get a chance."

 Bodie thought for a moment before he grinned. "Doing me got you that hot
and bothered, then? Quite the compliment, I must admit."

 "Apparently," Doyle said with an embarrassed smile. "Watching you... It
was marvellous. Maybe next time?" he asked.

 With a chuckle, Bodie kissed Doyle's forehead. "That's a promise."

 "Are you any cooler now?"

 "Arsehole."

 "Go to sleep, Bodie. You're definitely defying doctor's orders."

 "'Night, Ray."

 "Love you."

 "Hmmm. Is nice, that. Hearing you say it. Hope to hear it every night."

 "All right."

 "As easy as that?" Bodie asked again.

 "Not by a long shot."

 Bodie fell asleep with a grin on his face.

 "Bodie! For chrissake, Bodie!"

 Bodie surfaced slowly, feeling lethargic and groggy. His lungs hurt, and
he began coughing harshly. "Ray?" he croaked.

 "Bodie, wake up!"

 Bodie was yanked upright, and Doyle's hand connected with his cheek,
slapping him roughly several times. "Christ, Doyle!" Bodie growled,
shoving Doyle way.

 "The house is on fire! Get out now!"

 "Fire?" he said stupidly, coughing again. "What?"

 "Come on, mate," Doyle ordered.

 Bodie focused, the smoke irritating his eyes and lungs. He blinked
fiercely as his eyes teared and finally seemed to have some control of his
body. The smoke made his eyes burn, and his brain felt slow and thick. As
he swayed on his feet, he had enough presence of mind to shout, "Hang on!
I'm not running outside naked as the day I was born!"

 Doyle glared. "You're joking!"

 "Am not!" Bodie complained. "Go on! I'll catch up!"

 "You are a first class moron! Here!" Doyle yelled, throwing Bodie's
tracksuit at him. "Hurry up!"

 Bodie yanked on the tracksuit even as Doyle pulled on his arm.

 "Put this over your mouth!" Doyle yelled.

 Something smacked into Bodie's face. He grabbed at the material and
pressed it against his face. The cloth did filter out some of the smoke,
and he was finally able to breathe a bit easier as Doyle, with the torch
in hand, towed him towards the door.

 "Bodie!" Doyle cried as Bodie abruptly stopped, pulling his arm away.
"Now what?"

 "My gun!" Bodie answered, stumbling back to the bed, where he pulled his
weapon out from under the pillow. His brain finally started functioning
more clearly, and he knew better than to step outside without his weapon.
"Go!" he shouted, following the torch's beam as Doyle raced to the front
door.

 Bodie stood close to Doyle as he struggled with the locks. He glanced
behind him, seeing the fingers of flame reaching toward them from the
burning kitchen. A shower of spark flew through the air and landed on the
sofa. It smouldered for a moment before the material burst into flames.
The small radio that had kept them entertained earlier started to melt in
the heat of the sofa's blaze. Finally, Doyle unfastened the last lock and
grabbed Bodie's hand, dragging him out into the cool, clear night.

 ******

They stumbled onto the pavement when shots rang out. Doyle threw himself
at Bodie, and they both landed on the ground hard. Bodie let out a grunt
of pain when Doyle fell on top of him.

 "Bodie?"

 "I'm okay," he said between clenched teeth. His body screamed in protest
as his various healing injuries were jarred harshly.

 Two more shots rang out. Bodie heard the bullets thud into the side of
the house, well over their heads.

 "We need better cover. Head 'round to the right, behind the house. I'll
cover you."

 "Doyle-"

 "Go!" Doyle raised up slightly and returned fire.

 With a growl, Bodie scrambled to his feet and staying low, scuttled
forwards while Doyle laid cover fire. He lurched around the side of the
house and fell to his bum, back to the wall. "Doyle!" he shouted, shooting
his own weapon towards the wall where he thought he'd seen muzzle fire.
Doyle moved quickly, joining Bodie in moments. Skirting around him, Doyle
sat down, his back against the wall as well.

 "We need to get out of here. This place is going to burn."

 As if Doyle's words were the catalyst, a shower of sparks exploded from
the roof to rain down on their heads and around their feet. "Shit!" Bodie
rose, keeping his back firmly pressed to the wooden wall while he brushed
a hand through his hair as the sparks fell.

 Doyle leaned closer to Bodie. "We can't go out the back garden. It's open
for miles that way. Whoever this is, he's bound to see us in the
moonlight. If he has a long-distance scope..."

 "We can't stay here, mate. We'll be well toasted in minutes. This place
is a tinderbox."

 "I'll draw his fire, and you go for the car. Here are the keys."

 "I don't bloody need the keys! You hold the keys."

 "If I don't make it, you'll need the keys!"

 "Moron," Bodie growled. "I'm not going without you!"

 "One of us needs to call for help."

 "Where's your R/T?"

 "In the sodding house!"

 "Oh, good plan that is. The car it is, mate. You go first."

 "Not on your life."

 "Arsehole."

 "Dumb crud."

 "Doyle!" Bodie said with exasperation.

 "Ready? On three. Three, two-"

 Bodie quickly wrapped his hand around Doyle's neck and brought their lips
together roughly. He kissed him hard for a moment before he let go. "One."

 Doyle leaned out and fired while Bodie raced for the Capri. Shots rang
out from the sniper. Bodie chanced a glance to his left, taking better
care to mark the sniper's muzzle report as Doyle fired. He dove to the
ground, but not before he realised that none of the shots had even come
the least bit close. They were wild and poorly aimed. Ignoring his body's
protests at the rough treatment, Bodie scrambled to his knees and rested
his elbow on the bonnet as he took aim and started shooting to lay cover
for Doyle. Even the most inept sniper could hit a target once in a while,
he reckoned, and he'd be damned if this bastard's target would be his
partner.

 Doyle sprinted across the distance from the house to the Capri. The house
was now fully engulfed in flames, and the light from the fire lit up their
hiding spot clearly. The sniper shot again, but once more, the bullets
didn't even hit the car, let alone either man hiding behind it.

 "Sodding amateur," Bodie growled, checking his clip. "I'm down to one
round."

 "I have a spare clip.

 "Where'd you have it? In your arse?"

 Doyle chuckled dryly. "We all have our secrets, sunshine."

 "You're a daft nutter, Doyle."

 "Ta for that."

 "Did you notice this idiot can't hit the broad side of a barn?"

 "And you're complaining?"

 "No, just making mention of the fact. You'd think a sniper would be
better trained."

 "Lucky for us."

 "Strange... The bomb was poorly made and detonated too soon. Now he's a
bad shot."

 "What are you getting at?"

 "Whoever it is, they're not very good at the assassination game."

 "And you'd be happier if they were more competent?" Doyle asked
incredulously.

 "No, berk. I'm saying he's an amateur, and that we can take this nutter,
for once and for all. We're better than he is, after all," Bodie added
smartly.

 Doyle raised an eyebrow. Another shot rang out. The bullet went wide,
thudding into the dirt twenty feet away. They both scrunched down
instinctively before they looked at each other. "What's the plan?" Doyle
asked.

 "There's enough cover for me to go straight at him. He's behind that
wall, forty yards ahead. I saw his muzzle fire."

 "I'll go 'round back."

 "Give you two minutes."

 "Right."

 Bodie watched his partner as he carefully kept out of the fire's light
and disappeared from sight. He laid out his path: around the Capri, behind
the wooden fence, across a small garden bordered by a four-foot hedge,
then through the opening in the wall behind which the sniper lay hidden.

 With the ease of experienced partners, Bodie knew exactly when Doyle was
within striking distance. He knew that Doyle would give the sniper a
chance to surrender if he could, and he wanted to be sure to be where he
needed to be in case the nutter pulled anything and he could cover his
partner. Doyle might give the arsehole a chance to give up, but Bodie
might not be as amenable this night. He made his move.

 When Bodie advanced, another shot was fired at him, but he wasn't
surprised any longer when the shots, while definitely aimed at him, missed
by a wide margin. None of them seemed to come within four feet of him
since he'd been noticing the poor marksmanship. Either this moron was
half-blind or half-pissed, or plain incompetent. With a snicker, he hoped
that the assassin hadn't been paid in advance for his services.

 Bodie had made it to the opening in the brick wall when he heard Doyle's
voice call out, "Drop the rifle, or I'll drop you where you stand!"

 Bodie ran forward just as the sniper was surrendering. In the moonlight,
he could see the glint of the weapon as it was tossed aside. Doyle was
already on the sniper, turning him and shoving him hard into the brick
wall.

 "Hands back!" Doyle ordered. Bodie could clearly hear the snap of Doyle's
handcuffs.

 Bodie arrived as Doyle grabbed the sniper by the back of the shirt and
spun him around, pushing him back against the wall.

 Bodie looked into the shadowed face of the sniper. "What the-," he
growled, grabbing the man by the shirt and dragging him forward a few feet
into the flickering light of the house's blazing fire. He pulled the man's
cap from his head. Long, dark hair fell around the sniper's shoulders. The
sniper's face turned towards him. The eyes were wide, but the mouth was
turned upwards in a cold grin. Bodie's eyes widened as recognition set in.
"Bloody hell! It's a damned girl!"

 ******

"Carol Forrest. I'd never have believed it if I hadn't seen it for
myself." Bodie sighed tiredly, his head falling back against the headrest.

 Doyle shifted into fourth and turned onto the motorway, merging into the
early morning traffic. "Wasn't your fault, Bodie."

 "Didn't think it was. I'm just -- surprised. She seemed so quiet and
friendly when I met her at her folks' place."

 "Before or after you burst in, accusing her father of being involved in
two bombings?"

 "You know he was guilty as sin!"

 "Calm down, mate. I know he was. She's a nutter, Bodie."

 "I didn't know about her folks... that Forrest died in the nick, and that
her mum turned alcoholic. Not her fault her family screwed up." Bodie fell
silent, remembering the fresh-faced girl he'd spoken to that day, right
after the restaurant bombing.

 Bodie could feel Doyle's gaze on him, but he stayed quiet. Doyle finally
said, "Thank God she was an incompetent criminal, or you'd be history."

 Bodie snorted with cold amusement. "I'm grateful."

 "I didn't mean- Christ, Bodie, I'm glad you weren't hurt any worse, but
you were still injured! I care about that, in case you've forgotten! She
did hurt you and would have killed you if she could have!"

 Bodie sighed, closing his eyes. "Sorry, sunshine. Don't pay any attention
to me. I'm plain knackered."

 "I know you are. I'm sorry as well. Shouldn't have snapped at you like
that. You've had a rough time of it."

 "I'm fine." Bodie opened his eyes to glance over at Doyle. The care and
concern for him radiated from every pore of his partner's being. He
finally smiled. "And hungry."

 Doyle cast over a warm smile in response. "Of course you are."

 "Your place or mine?"

 "Mine. I have that big bath."

 Bodie stared at the side of Doyle's head as his partner focused on his
driving. "Eh?"

 "Yeah," Doyle said with a grin. "You need a good scrubbing. And I'm just
the man to give it to you."

 Bodie smiled. "That sounds quite interesting."

 "You'll like it. Trust me."

 "That's what you said last night."

 "And did you?"

 "Did I what?"

 "Like it, you moron!"

 "Quite."

 They both grinned.

 "Be home in ten minutes," Doyle offered, changing lanes.

 "Like the sound of that -- home. You and me, mate."

 Bodie watched Doyle intently, and he was pleased to see a grin cross his
partner's lips. "Yeah," Doyle said simply.

 Grinning himself, Bodie leaned forward to switch on the radio. "Shall we
try our luck again?"

 Doyle nodded. "Might as well. Who knows? Today might be our lucky day
again."

 The radio crackled to life, and the words to the song playing echoed
through the Capri: *The wild boys are calling, on their way back from the
fire; In august moon's surrender to a dust cloud on the rise...*

 Bodie looked at Doyle, who glanced back at him before they both started
to laugh. Doyle pulled into the car park next to his flat block and turned
off the engine. They sat and listened to the rest of the song together,
Bodie's fingers entwined with Doyle's.

 *Wild boys never lose it; wild boys never chose their way; wild boys
never close your eyes; wild boys always shine...*

 "Come on, you," Doyle said. "I have plans."

 Bodie smiled. "Cheers, my wild boy. Lead the way."

 -- THE END --

 *August 2007*

 *Songs references: 
 Eugene Wilde -- Gotta Get You Home Tonight
 Frankie Goes To Hollywood -- The Power of Love
 Elvis Presley -- King Creole
 Murray Head -- One Night In Bangkok 
 Ray Parker Jr. -- Ghostbusters
 Duran Duran -- The Wild Boys*

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