"Bodie... on the edge of salvation or utter perdition" (Angelfish)

shooting2kill — Fri, 26 Feb 2021 17:19:52 GMT

Visions of Bodie and Doyle:
Bogart's The Desperate Hours: paying homage to a favourite film.

The briefing room was fully at capacity, the crowd of agents hard pressed to make space for Cowley as he made his way to the front. Bodie and Murphy settled against the wall on one side, near the chalkboard which was, for once, ominously empty...
“Ladies and gentlemen.” The Controller spoke into the silence. “The last few days have given us an aeroplane crash, a stock market collapse, and wind and rain some have called the storm of the century. Today has dealt us something worse… very much worse, I’m afraid.” Cowley pulled his spectacles off and set them on the podium in front of him, and looked around at his gathered agents. “Approximately twenty minutes ago, Lord Louis Mountbatten and several members of his family were killed in an explosion aboard his boat, off the coast of Ireland.”
There were a few audible gasps...
“... and great harm will befall the kingdom …” Murphy’s quiet comment broke the silence in the room.
Should Harm Befall Us:Ubicaritas(Janet)

There was only one building along the seafront street tall enough for the shooter to have shot down on the promenade. An old fashioned place, the Old Ship Hotel, all white washed Victorian splendour....
Bodie stopped to orient himself. He caught a glimmer of sun on metal up on the roof of the hotel. *There* — gun still in place...
Was the sniper up there, too? Or had he fled once he’d initiated the chaos? Bound to be other innocent bystanders shot besides Doyle... What if Doyle bled to death whilst Bodie was in pursuit of their suspect? Every fibre of his being yearned to turn around, abandon the chase, and carry Doyle to safety.
Which Doyle would hate. Once patched up, he’d harangue Bodie up one side and down the other.
How badly was he bleeding? Where had the bullet hit?
Just Another Day by the Sea:Dawnwind

"You expect to get the money, you’d better take proper care of me!"
"Oh, you’re going to be taken’ care of right proper, you little bastard and it won’t be because of any money, either. You’ll be beggin’ for whatever I decide to give you after a couple of months."
"Couple of months? What are you talkin’ about?" Doyle’s mouth went dry. What was going on?
His captor laughed. "Thought you were worth all sorts of money, didn’t you? Rich bugger like you, be out of here in no time, right?"
"You tellin’ me they’re refusing to pay?"
"No, I’m telling you we’re not askin’. You think my boss needs money? You stupid git. It’s revenge he’s after... You think about that, bein’ down there in that hole, day after day, month after month, year after year..."
"No, wait!" Doyle felt a surge of panic. "There’s been a mistake. I’m not who you think I am..." Only the Reflection:Elise_Madrid

“Where’d you go?” Bodie asked coldly.
“What’s wrong?” Doyle asked.... “Something happen?”
“Nothing.”
Doyle stared, the look that could strip varnish at sixty paces. The look that Bodie always feared saw straight through him. Like he was the one with something to hide. He stared back — stared hard without love or affection and this time saw only the flaws: the dented cheekbone, the fine lines across Doyle’s forehead and around his shadowy eyes, the silver threaded hair grown long in hospital. But more than that. He saw a man who wasn’t getting any younger. A man with few illusions left.
In that respect: a man like himself.
“Yeh,” Doyle said. “Somethin’ has happened.”
Calibre:JGL (Wayback Machine)

For the first months Cowley, in a rare display of sympathy, let him work alone. When he finally assigned him partners Bodie ran through them like sand through an hourglass, requesting one after another. Most were unable to bear his moods, and they only succeeded in verbally tearing each other's throats out. And the others.... He couldn't look at the man with the curly hair, or the one whose eyes were almost the same color he remembered. He finally takes the bottom of the barrel, a young and inexperienced man who keeps quiet and looks nothing like his partner. He gets killed three months later and Bodie can't even feel grief at the loss. He wonders if he can feel anything anymore.
After that Cowley gives him mostly deskwork. He accepts it without questioning, does his job with a quiet efficiency, arriving and leaving never too early or late, coming and going like a shadow...
Broken:D'Angelo's Song

He turned his collar up against the growing cold and stuffed his hands in his pockets. It was then that the fingers of his left hand touched something hard and metallic. At first he thought it was an unspent bullet. He fished it out as he walked and turned it over in his hand. It was homing device. How the hell had it got there? No wonder they knew where he was. As he walked briskly – the back of his mind still focused on his friend back at the safehouse needing urgent attention – he quickly reviewed the day’s events. He thought back to their briefing at HQ that morning, then the meeting in the pub as they thrashed out their strategy... someone had been in the pub while they were chatting and had planted the bug then...
Ambush:Sylvie Orp

Bodie was aware of a cold sinking feeling deep in the pit of his stomach... He had seen police searching for bodies in the river before...
"Where's Ray?"
Bodie's voice sounded normal enough, but Cowley wasn't fooled. Bodie knew, but just couldn't believe it. It was a risk he knew they had talked about, the possibility of one of them being left behind -- a risk that might happen tomorrow. Not today - -- never today. Blindly, they had clung to the hope the childish belief that tomorrow never comes -- but like all childish illusions that belief had just been shattered.
Without speaking, Cowley moved to stand closer, silently offering support...
Not Even Goodbye:Rob

Waking up knowing he was bound again, gagged again. Not again. Testing his bonds he moved a little, then perforce held still. Raeburn's crazy; maybe he thought he'd already killed me.
He did feel like he should be dead...
Suffocation? What were the colours on his painter's palette at home? The new painting of Bodie was coming along well. Not anything anyone would want to put in their living room of course, but maybe a gay couple would buy it someday. Not if he died though, drowned in blood...
Footsteps. Raeburn?
"Scum? You awake; I know you're awake. Don't make me angry; I'd kill you right now sooner than look at you. Faggot curly head."
Doyle looked up at him... Backlight:Jeroen Richards

Bodie stood between the pale grey-blue-green walls of Doyle's flat. The flat palm of Doyle's absence, Doyle's coma, pressed him into silence. The feeling was more like horror than grief. The world was wrong.
It was not possible that Doyle ...
that Ray would never hear ...
that Bodie would have to ...
He could not form the thought. Could not even think it.
Couldn't just stand here. He had to find the shooter and take him apart.
And then get back to Ray.
Ray Knows:jat_sapphire

...More hoofbeats, definitely from the front of the house - up and down that track, perhaps, or... the same horses over and over, or more than two? ...Bodie tried to listen, tried to make sense of the noises. The horses called out again, louder, panicked. Rustlers? It probably wasn't unheard of out here in the sticks, there was a thriving black market down south.
Nothing. There was nothing to be seen from the front window of the cottage, though it overlooked the track...
It was stupid, they needed torches and thicker clothes against the cutting wind, and Doyle needed his gun which was still upstairs in its holster, but there was something about the pitch of the animals' voices, something ...
"I don't like this..." Doyle said, voice low."
Mollycross:Slantedlight

... he glanced across at his former friend (and) instantly recognised Harris’ agitated state; hyped up, ready to do battle, exactly as he had always been prior to an op. Bodie suddenly had to dampen down his own wayward emotions before they tore him apart. A small part of him wanted to feel the same excitement, to return to the times when he and Pete had been close, when they worked together, smooth as clockwork. But things were so very different from how they used to be. He had the law on his side now, he had pride in his work, he was one of the good guys - and he had a different partner.
No, he knew exactly what needed to be done – it was how it would be accomplished that worried him. And what would be the actual cost?
Out of Reach:cornishcat

The realisation that he would never see his Bodie again hit him so suddenly that his stomach lurched and he had to stumble over to the sink to throw up... then sank to the floor, shaking harder than before.
Outside, cars zipped past, shops closed and pubs opened. The world carried on, but how could it? How could anything go on?
The tears that Doyle had managed to hold back finally spilled out and he drew his knees up to his chest, hid his face in his arms and cried. Choked and sobbed and keened in a way he couldn't remember ever having done before. He cried until his head ached and his throat hurt and he didn't think he would be able to breathe. A part of him no longer wanted to.
He wanted the world to go away, to be left in that moment forever...
Together, Alone:scouringsandstone

...he suddenly stopped, frozen by the familiar smell that assaulted him and threw him violently back into his past. Doyle turned round to take the photos from Bodie and was surprised to see him rooted to the spot, a faraway look on his face.
‘Oi, wake up’ said Doyle ‘what’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost mate. What is that awful smell?’
Bodie shook his head in an attempt to clear it and block out the memories that were threatening to overwhelm him, he knew exactly what the perfume was and who it belonged to...
Echoes From The Past:Klara3745

"Sir, I haven’t found the boy and it’s way past three by now. Any news from the kidnappers or Doyle?*
“Negative, 3.7. No answer from Doyle. You’re not too far from the house he wanted to check out, so go and find out what’s going on!”
“I’m on my way, Sir. 3.7 out!”.
The silver Capri leapt forward like a stallion trying to discard its mount when Bodie shifted up a gear. It wasn’t long before he was approaching the farmhouse. Even from a distance, he could see that a window on the first floor and the entrance door had been blown from their hinges.
The next thing he saw was Doyle’s Capri. By this time the lump in his throat had grown so much he was was finding it hard to swallow...
Pushed Beyond the Limit:Angelfish45

Someone, somewhere, has royally fucked up, and it’s all Doyle can do to sit still in the dark, hoping against hope that it isn’t him. The last hour or so -- although it could really be more, because it’s hard to keep track -- exists in his mind only as a blur of tacked-together memories, mistake after mistake after unforeseen circumstance... He remembers the way the light fell across her face before Hatchett pulled the trigger, that ripped-wide-open feeling of unadulterated failure, suffocating in it, then really suffocating with a bag over his head, and Drop your weapons, gentlemen, and darkness. And silence.
He hopes that Bodie hasn’t annoyed them. When it was Doyle’s turn he stayed quiet, got slapped around a little for his insolence but at least he didn’t cheek them: Bodie, on the other hand, is well-known for his mouth...
The sound of a gunshot from the next room rips into his consciousness...
Breakdown:Lozalong

“Put your hands on your heads,” a huge, Nordic looking man said politely...
They hadn’t walked into a plain, slightly shabby family sitting room; they’d walked into a trap. It had sprung with very sweet precision… and they were caught.
Bodie put his hands very slowly on his head. Anything else would have been extremely stupid. Annoyed with himself for having been caught so unawares, he tried to assess where a tedious day had gone so disastrously wrong.
“You’re making a big mistake, you know, Harworth,” he said.
“I’m not Nick Harworth,” the man said calmly...
The circle of guns was keeping a reasonable level of alertness.
Stockhomn Syndrome:Gil Hale

shooting2kill — Sun, 17 May 2020 11:01:59 GMT
Visions of Bodie and Doyle: other times and other places

A few more story suggestions. I've also posted this at https://archiveofourown.org/works/23912569.
And many thanks to hyael45 for permission to use her beautiful creation of Doyle to illustrate the quote from Long Trick.

...
Bodie had the head start, and he knew Algiers. Doyle had already discovered the city was a labyrinth. It would be fatal to let Bodie get out of sight. Doyle was lucky enough to glimpse him running around a corner, and was desperate enough to half catch up with him before Bodie had rounded another corner and was out of sight again.
Running was one of Doyle's finest talents, and he was fresh from a training session with Macklin and Towser. Bodie was not going to escape him.
They raced down several streets, over a wall...
Algiers:Fajrdrako

“Well how did we end up in Switzerland then?” said Doyle..
“I don’t know, do I?”
“You’re supposed to be the experienced International traveller.”
“Yeah, well even International traveller’s make mistakes.”
“So let me get this right. We’re meant to be in France?”
“Correct...”
“And our coach leaves from France.”
“Yep.”
“But we’re in Switzerland.”
“Er, yeah. We’ll have to find our way back across the border somehow..."
Winter Demons:assemblanceoflove, DementedPixie

The vista was glorious and Ray would have loved it...
As I continued to climb the French Pyrenees, the clouds rose to meet me. It was an ethereal sight, like walking through heaven. The mist ebbed and swirled, a watery quicksilver, changing the temperature with lightning speed. When the sunshine broke through, I could see for miles. The whole world was lush and green. Far-off farm buildings looked like tiny Swiss cottages. Eagles soared as might Chilean Condors and ferns brushed my legs as they well might in Dorset. I could be anywhere in the world, such was the view.
Buen Camino, Bodie: Sharon Ray (Boothros)

Bodie strode quickly after Doyle as he pressed on to catch the vaporetto that would take them up the Grand Canal to the district of Cannaregio. But as they stood waiting at the stop, along with the first of the day’s pickings of tourists eager to pass under the Rialto bridge, he frowned and gave Doyle a light nudge.
“Three o’clock. That man’s following us.”
... “Yes, I know... Don’t worry, we expect him to be there.”
“Is he yours? Fierstron’s?”
Doyle raised an eyebrow; he seemed to be back in a stubborn mood: “I’m not sure you’re cleared for that information.”
“Oh good, because I enjoy guessing if someone is about to start shooting me,” Bodie hissed back...
Orpheus Turns Around:halotolerant

He paid little heed to the shadow passing over the sun, a cloud between him and the life giving light, both his conscious and sub-conscious recognising the transient nature of the intrusion. Little heed, that is, right up until the cloud spoke…
‘’Hello, Sunshine.’’
Doyle sat bolt upright, adrenalin pumping through his system, all his nightmares made manifest.
Bodie dropped to his haunches, taking in the feral, wild eyed creature before him.
Even under the ill tailored clothing, it was obvious Doyle had lost weight. He had kept an aura of scrawny strength, but he was nothing but sinew and bone. Every vein and artery stood out where the flesh had retreated, every plane and angle of bone. He looked just this side of starving.
A grim horror crept through Bodie...
The Long Trick:Fiorenza_a

“Onwards” Cowley said happily...

It was a very pleasant walk. The sea breeze was keeping the temperature down and the cry of gulls and sough of sea was very relaxing. Ahead was their destination – St.Michael’s Mount – a site of pilgrimage for centuries. Once they’d come to the end of the easy, flat walk to the island, the climbing began to the church on top of the steep hill. Cowley had been given them a little history of the island as they’d walked along the causeway and, despite their earlier reservations, the agents were now getting into the holiday spirit.

“Out of breath?” Cowley was going to add “3.7”, but remembered in time where he was. He tried not to sound out of breath himself...
Sermon on the Mount:Sylvie Orp

*Jack and Jill – noon*.
The writing could have been Bodie’s, or it could have been forged. Doyle remembered that Terry had been taken and could be telling the Flak all sorts of interesting information – or as much as he knew. Anyone would talk under those conditions... how much could Terry actually tell them. He knew of Bodie certainly, but did he know all the codes used by some members of the cell to others? Doyle wasn’t sure. There was only one way to find out – be there at noon and see what happened.
Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. So went the nursery rhyme. There was a pub at the top of Masons Hill where you could get more than a pail or two of water, or whatever else you fancied. That was where Bodie meant...
In a Different Time: Sylvie Orp

And this time the stone moved properly, lifting and sliding just far enough sideways so that they could tug it clear of the space below, and when they looked into the depths of the hole they'd uncovered, they could see what was underneath...
Stairs.
A familiar tattoo pounded at his heart, his veins, into his stomach. It was like being a kid again, like running away to sea - and just when he'd wondered whether there was anything new left in the world to be excited about.
They peered cautiously down, half wondering, after the well, whether it would all give way and send them plummetting to a dark death, but once the dust and sand had settled down again, all was still and solid and safe. A steep flight of stairs, cut out of the rock itself, led downwards, disappeared into some underworld that can't have been seen for over a hundred years...
Two on a Treasure Island: Slantedlight(Byslantedlight)

Had he once boasted that he had never gone hungry? Well, it was beginning to be an all too familiar sensation. And it wasn't as romantic as he'd once envisioned. It was uncomfortable at best and at worst . . .
Doyle sat up, refusing to think of that. It was pointless... At this moment he knew the true meaning of the phrase "pride goeth before a fall." Well, he had finally hit bottom. It was nearly impossible to even remember he had come to France to be an artist. For one thing he had discovered quite soon that his devotion to art didn't extend to sacrificing his next meal in order to buy canvas and paint. Perhaps that signified he wasn't a true artist. Hopefully, it only meant he was an artist who simply didn't fancy starving to death.
Either way, it hardly mattered. The one unshakable imperative was to survive...
Arabian Nights:Pamela Rose

"Did you know that, strictly speaking, a ship has to have at least three masts, be square-rigged on them all and a bunch of other stuff that I can't remember?"
"Thank you for enriching my knowledge. I can't see it's ever going to come in useful but thank you anyway... How do you know that?"
"Merchant navy. The first mate was mad about tall ships and I was too young and naive to work out how to shut him up without getting myself slung off the ship."
"Did you work it out in the end?" Doyle asked, interested.
"Yeah," Bodie drawled, amusement plain.
"Well?" Doyle prompted.
"You don't want to know."
"I do. Might work on the old man."
Bodie gave a snort of laughter. "Try it if you like. Blow job..."
Trying to Understand:deryderrydown

American breakfasts were the best part about visiting the States...
"Bodie?"
The voice was surprised, a little uncertain. Bodie turned his head and saw a woman approaching him. She was of medium height and build, well-dressed, and middle-aged. He raised his eyebrows.
"It is you, isn't it? Her eyes searched his face and his body.
It was her perfume that finally triggered the memory. "Ann Holly." He felt the echo of old worries, old fears, as he said her name.
She smiled and it seemed a little self-conscious. "Johnson now."
"Ah. Married a Yank, did you?"
"Yes." She was looking at him if she couldn't quite believe he was there...
Old Fears and Temptations:PFL (msmoat)

“Why are they killing innocents? They must know it won't help them in the eyes of the population...”
.."We were thinking at first that they had chosen people with some connection with perhaps East Germany or Poland. But there was no evidence. Then one of the newspaper reporters noted that this is a progressive area. The people always elect politicians at both a local and a national level who will pass good, tolerant laws and make the world more modern, more peaceful. I think these Wolves do not like this. They think the local people are the enemies of the state.”
The English agents stared at him. It barely made sense even though the man spoke excellent English. Doyle was about to reply but the officer smiled and continued.
“I know; it sounds insane. That is the conclusion we have come to. These Wolves are insane or at least their leaders are insane..."
Wolfkammer:moth2fic

.. He is thin, probably underfed, and his tunic, belted loose, is dingy and threadbare. But somehow he -- he is beautiful. There is no other word for it. His hair, curled like that of a cinaedus should be, is a pleasing auburn colour, and his eyes, bright green, stunning in their intensity, could only belong to a Celt. The man's face is exotic, a combination of features half-delicate and half-rough that intrigues him...
... He moves with the exaggerated, showy gestures of the cinaedus, probably trained into him, but there is a true grace under the artifice, a power. They may have beaten him, but they haven't broken him. Bellonus wants this one...
Miles Scortillusque:Sineala

The Palace of Versailles was as exquisite as all had proclaimed. The gardens begged to be investigated, the halls to be explored. Bodie did it all with a spring in his step.
This hyper-awareness of Doyle was extraordinary. It was just as satisfying to know that he could comport himself professionally when all he wanted to do was bury his fingers in Doyle's hair and kiss his lips soundly. It was equally intoxicating to know that Doyle was in the same place if the smouldering stares were anything to go by. Bodie was still stunned at how simple the answer had been. Doyle.
They could work, do the job, and they could love, have someone at home...
The Things You Need Come Slow:krisserci5

Bloody typical.
When you came to Spain, you came for sun, sand and sangria, didn’t you? That's what all the adverts said. It didn't matter what it was like in Blighty, it would always be balmy on the Costa del Sol, even the middle of winter. I mean, why else would there be palm trees?
Doyle gazed out onto the rain-lashed marble of the swimming pool terrace, the pool itself a mass of white horses whipped up by the easterly gale that was thundering its way down the Mediterranean. The famous palm trees were throwing their branches up in surrender, and the Michael Fish-equivalent on the telly in the bar was wittering on about 'bizarro' weather for the time of year.
You don’t mean to say so, thought Doyle glumly...
The Spy Who Couldn't Quite Come In From The Cold:unbelievable2

shooting2kill — Sun, 14 Jul 2019 07:43:24 GMT
Visions of Bodie and Doyle: never (very) far apart

Bodie followed Doyle up the stairs... the way he always did. He didn’t think about it too deeply. He just knew the position he preferred to take.
This time, however, Doyle stopped abruptly and turned to face him. “Is there something you want?”
Bodie blinked. “What?”
“You’re staring again.”
“No, I’m not,” said Bodie, automatically.
“Yeah, you were.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about...”
Doyle leaned on the railing with an air of patently calculated ease, his hip canted, and his other hand on his waist. “I wonder how you’d like a taste of it yourself.”
“A taste of what?”
“How do they say it? What’s good for the goose is good for the gander?”
“It’s sauce for the goose. And I know exactly which of us is the gander...” May Day Run:Rebelcat

Magnets. The thought jumped into his mind. He and Ray were like the magnets that had held such fascination for him as a child.... he would gently tap them, nudging them toward one another until the moment of magic would happen and they'd slide together.
But that didn't happen all the time. Sometimes he would urge them closer and closer; until quite arbitrarily, or so he thought at the time, they would refuse to move any closer. Putting a finger on each magnet he had pushed at them, but there had been a force pushing them apart. He felt the echo of that tingling force sometimes when he was around Doyle.
It was usually at the end of an op, after they had acted as a single unit. They would move closer and closer, but the same force that pushed those magnets apart did the same to them...
Magnets. Bodie didn't have to wonder, he trusted the attraction. Tonight they were aligned.
Night Before the World Ends:Lezlie Conch

...he'd have followed his da anywhere, through fire or hail or over the top of a volcano, across the vast oceans in a dinghy or crawling through a swamp on his knees, if only he'd come back and crooked his finger. And he followed Doyle like that, like nobody else he'd ever known in all his varied life.
Whether Doyle crooked his finger or not, he'd follow. Didn't always agree with Doyle, naturally; but that's not what it was about. Doyle wasn't Cowley or his old SAS colonel or that first captain who'd set him on the right path, the rough, hard, narrow path that'd helped keep him safe all these years in the worst of circumstances.
Doyle kept him safe in all the unplumbed areas he'd ignored through the years: the emotional parts of him that still secretly longed for his dead father and his mother's equally dead laughter; witless childish desires he'd done away with long ago. Only not, apparently, as permanently and successfully as he'd thought...
Don't Let the Sun Catch You Crying:Istia

“He's doing it deliberately,” said Bodie... “He's got to be.”
He followed his partner up the steps into the building. The corridors were dark and deserted at that time of night, apart from old Fred Williams on the front desk, who waved them through.
“Sends us home, only to haul us back here two hours later,” Bodie continued in hushed tones. “Every time we get a night to ourselves, he's on that phone... Got some sort of sixth sense, I'm telling you.”
“Let's hope not. Wouldn't do our careers much good if the old man turns out to be clairvoyant.”
They pressed on in silence. The stiff line of Doyle's shoulders was the only thing that betrayed his frustration at having their evening interrupted.
“Next time,” said Bodie, as they neared Cowley's office, “We won't answer it.”
“Next time,” said Doyle, “I'm disconnecting the bloody line.”
Sixth Sense:scouringsandstone

Ray walked up to the desk and leaned down onto it so that he was face to face with Kate. "My Bodie doesn't take well to threats, do ya Bodie?... We don't take well to being separated either," Ray added.
"You're sick men," Kate said..."Obsessed with each other. It's toxic love. If you let me go now, I can help you. You would learn that real love isn't about possessiveness or fixation. You can't own another person."
"Sure is fun trying though.. The thing you don't seem to understand, Doctor, is that we don't care what other people think. We belonged to each other from day one. Anyone else was just meaningless... a diversion, or a merely an extension of one of our rows...And you've threatened to take my other half away."
Bodie made a tsking sound. "Stupid thing to do," Bodie agreed... "Real stupid."
In that moment, Dr. Kate Ross realized that some things were a force of nature and one of them was whatever these men shared. Dark obsession or passionate love, it connected them in a way that no one could separate them truly.
Stop Breathing: Creed Cascade

Bodie followed, idly watching the play of muscles in Doyle's shoulders and back as he walked, dropping his eyes lower and watching the curve of his arse, dark-denimed against the sandy path.
Doyle looked back to see where he'd got to, catching him, and Bodie grinned unrepentantly. "We are on holiday, you know," he said, with lazy defence.
"You do the same thing on the job... I could 'ave you for sexual harassment!"
"Yeah. Good, innit?"
"Berk," Doyle said again, but he was trying not to smile. "Come on, we've only got about an hour before it closes..."
Bodie could take or leave the mysteries of archaeology, but wandering aimlessly in the sun beside Doyle was something he could manage on his worst days, so he shrugged and followed once more.
When they retired... It'd never happen, the job would get one or the other of them long before that. There were maybe a handful of agents he could think of who'd been in as long as he and Doyle, even now. Unless they took a step sideways, went into training maybe, or the armouries... He tried to imagine life inside, couldn't.
He Kindly Stopped For Me: Slantedlight

"Promise me something."
"Depends."
Ray scowled at him, but it carried no heat. "Wait for me."
"Wait for you?" Fear put a crack in Bodie's voice. "Where are you going?"
Ray sidled closer to Bodie but did not touch him. Those changeable eyes were darker than Bodie could ever remember seeing them, drawing him further into an enchantment that now seemed years in the making yet still beyond his grasp.
"Not going anywhere without you. That's the promise I want. That when all this is over, one way or another, you'll be waiting."
Bodie considered the request. Friendship for Doyle would always be there and required no special commitment. Ray was asking for more, but how much more?
"Why wait at all?" Bodie couldn't see the logic of putting off something they both obviously wanted so badly. At least he knew he did--Ray's feelings on the subj>ect were still a mystery. "We only have today, like everyone else."
"But we're not like everyone else..." Boundless: Veronica

“What do you mean, there’s only one bed?”
Doyle tried to ignore the fact he could feel his cheeks going red, and leaned in closer to the bored-looking hotel receptionist.
“Exactly what I told you, sir,” said ‘Wendy’, widening her blue-rimmed eyes for emphasis... “I’m sorry - you’ll only have to pay for a single, but that’s the best I can do: we’re fully booked.”
She did look apologetic - and rather pretty, too - but Doyle was in no mood to notice. Of all the things he had thought about happening - had laughed at the thought of happening, and then dismissed them as being ridiculous and the products of an over-active imagination and excessive anxiety - he had never, ever in a million years expected this, the most obvious of cock-ups when holidaying with a man you occasionally fell into bed with.
Bodie, standing behind him with the bags at his feet, wasn’t saying anything at all, but Doyle could feel him watching. It was unnerving when he couldn’t see Bodie’s face - it was difficult enough to understand what he was thinking at the best of time, but near-impossible when Doyle couldn’t see his eyes...
Blackpool and Rock:Ailcia

... how vulnerable he is standing next to his partner.
There’s a crackle of the needle on vinyl and then the slow rhythm that makes him want to dance. So he does.
"Get off!" They’re the first words either of them have spoken since he arrived.
He doesn’t, just curves his hand a bit further round Ray’s waist, pulling him in closer, swaying him, singing, joking "You do something to me ....You have the power to hypnotise me," he croons to the scowling face just inches away... Somehow he"s lost the mocking tone and his voice sinks to a murmur...
He can't sing anymore, it can't be a joke anymore.
They sway in time with the easy rhythm, always in sync.
He thinks Ray must be able to feel the way his heart is slamming against his ribs...
The song is slowing, drawing to a close and he doesn’t want it to stop. He feels Ray’s deep inhale against his palm where it rests just below that scar....Ray hasn’t pulled away...
Somewhere between the bullets and tea, I fell in love: Carmenamatorium

"He would have shot you," Doyle whispered. "He wasn't bluffing, I saw his hand move and I couldn't, I couldn't let him...."
"I know. It's...it's all right." It wasn't, of course, and Doyle knew that as well as he did, but it felt wrong to thank him for killing Cowley, even if it had saved his life...
"We'll have to go tonight," he said.
"What did I do, Bodie?" His voice was hoarse and strained...
"Saved my life, didn't you?" he said roughly... "We'll manage...I need you with me, Ray. Don't fall apart on me, do you hear?"
He pulled away and took a deep, shaky breath. "I'll come back with the bikes."
"Take your time," Bodie said. "You'll draw attention if you rush..."
They were on the ferry before dusk...
One Shot:Sarah K

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...
One Night in Bangkok::LilyK

"So much blood," Bodie whispered. "On that damn rug. In the ambulance. In the operating theatre. And you ..."
"I know," Ray said again.
"I never told you." Bodie's throat felt full of broken glass. "I stood there, all of it in my head. Scared."
"All the time," Ray said...
"Worse. The worst..."
"Bodie," he said gently, "you don't need to say it. I know. I see it on your face. In the way you watch my back. The way you make me laugh. You save me every day, Bodie. Don't say anything for me, I don't need it. But you looked like, like words were choking you."
"Not words," Bodie got out.
Ray Knows:jat_sapphire

"Never far apart, eh?”
“That’s the rumour,” Doyle said quietly.
Bodie’s stomach was suddenly tight. “We’re the top team.”
“We are. But…never give them ammunition, right?”
Their eyes met and Bodie caught his breath. Doyle had understood his invitation, he was certain of it. He’d read him right—they’d read each other right. A familiar euphoria swept through him, the same emotion he felt, sometimes, in a firefight beside Doyle, when they each knew exactly what the other would do. He wanted to grab him, kiss him, join with that fire that would temper his steel. But he wouldn’t, they wouldn’t...
Condition of Employment:PFL

“There’ll be blue-birds over the white cliffs of Dover, tomorrow, just you wait and see.” Bodie softly sang the first lines of the 1942 Vera Lynn song.
Doyle answered with the second stanza. “There'll be love and laughter and peace ever after, tomorrow, when the world is free....”
Bodie turned his head to face his partner. He smiled with delight that Doyle knew the same song...
“We’d come here when I was a kid. It was just a place to run around. I like it much better now,” Doyle volunteered as he watched the cliffs grow smaller but longer.
“Saw them first time returning from France with army vehicles.” Bodie felt compelled to match Doyle’s confidence...
It was odd to realise that with anyone but Doyle he wouldn’t even make the attempt to divulge any real information. But Doyle was different. He was his best mate, after all. Share and share alike.
The Things You Need Come Slow:KrisserCI5

“An’ where’s yer shadow, then?” the landlord of the establishment inquired....."Yer mate, man, the curly-haired fellow that I see you chasin’ ‘round town with..."
“Oh, you mean Doyle,” Bodie replied, looking disconcerted before he shrugged it off. “We just work together,” he explained…
Bodie leaned on the bar thinking about the older man’s words, wondering why they gave him a sense of disquiet. He and Ray Doyle had been partnered for a year now, but Bodie hadn’t really thought about Doyle as a ‘mate’, and certainly not as a ‘shadow’. They were partners, sure, and they’d likely take a bullet for the other one, if absolutely necessary, but that was just the job. They had to be able to depend upon one another watching the other’s back. Had to be able to trust that they weren’t out there alone, or it wouldn’t work. And, sure, they were always dashing around the streets at any ungodly hour of the day or night. It wasn’t as if they watched the clock on their jobs.
But, ‘mate’? Nah, not that close. Never so close it would hurt if Doyle bought it one day. That was neither professional nor very smart. Their work was too risky to get that close. Brooding, leaning an elbow on the bar, Bodie reflected over the past year... he thought of the time he’d been stabbed, and how Doyle had reacted. Damn, but those unshed tears in Doyle’s eyes had surprised... and touched him. He wasn’t used to anyone giving a damn what happened to him. Me and My Shadow: Arianna: Proslib CD

“We’ve searched everywhere, Bodie. He’s not here.” Doyle wants to sob. He can hear the agents trooping past, back outside. No! He can’t die here. Not when Bodie’s so close. What if they leave? He guesses that he’ll have two days tops before he’ll die of thirst. Bodie won’t cope when he finds out that Doyle perished, trapped only a few feet from him. This can’t be happening. This won’t happen. Bodie!
“Where else could he be?” Bodie is furious, his voice carrying clearly through to his partner.
He hears Cowley sigh, “Bodie… it could have been a trap all along. Doyle could be somewhere else or he could be dead.”
No!
“No,” Bodie snaps the word, but Doyle catches the break in his voice. “No.”
“Come along, laddie.” The footsteps start to recede and Doyle hangs his head, frustrated tears burning in his eyes. Bodie!
Doyle wishes that he and Bodie are really telepathic. He experiments, calling Bodie’s name over and over... Captive:Agent_Talis

Doyle turned to frown at him, found him closer than he'd thought, and felt his heart catch. He was too tired to deal with this… But at least the slight anger had gone from Bodie's voice, if not the tension in his jaw, his neck, his bare shoulders - oh Christ… Outside danger over, he had to move away, had to get away from the older, more familiar danger within... his gaze kept straying to Bodie, lingered where it shouldn't, on the play of muscle and skin, on the way the line of his black trousers was so straight, so tight to his back, flowing downwards, outwards over…
If only…
If only he could... step up behind Bodie, put his hands on those shoulders and lean in… You're tense, he'd whisper, why don't we see what we can do about that...
Windowpain:Slantedlight

So as they walked down the corridor, side by side, away from Cowley's office and towards the lift, Doyle allowed himself to drift a little closer to his friend than normal. Briefly, their shoulders brushed against each other. Doyle supposed his senses must have been heightened by the action and terror of earlier, because he felt their mutual warmth, the hard muscle of Bodie's shoulder ...
Doyle felt so close to Bodie then, that his heart beat faster and a strong feeling of affection came over him – no, deeper than affection. He felt the full force of their partnership: everything it meant. He'd walk through hell with Bodie if that was what it took to do their jobs, or anything, CI5 be damned. He'd do anything Bodie asked – and Bodie would do the same for him.
The benefits of relaxation Maddalia: Proslib CD

The idea of being bound to the hip with Bodie had his adrenaline running high. Despite the constant nearness that would more than likely play havoc with his libido, he wouldn't relinquish Bodie's care to anyone else. "Take me arm."
Bodie reached out and grasped Doyle just above the elbow. Without hesitation, he followed Doyle's lead, testament to the depth of his trust. With a subtle shift of his head, he inhaled the comforting scent of his partner and a small smile passed his lips.
"That's it," encouraged Doyle, guiding Bodie up the narrow pathway and toward the small landing that led into the building. "Three steps, mate."
Bodie kept Doyle close, feeling his partner's movements that guided him past hidden obstacles. "You make a good guide dog," he teased.
"More like your watchdog," retorted Doyle...
Love Is Blind:Shorts

They wandered through the flat — each trying to look as if he weren’t following the other — opening drawers and cupboards, putting things away, making the flat their own.
Difficult, mused Bodie, watching Ray without letting Ray realise he was watching him. Any minute now Ray was going to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing. God alone knew what he’d answer. But every time he almost met Ray’s eyes, his own skidding hastily away, Ray seemed abruptly to be looking at something else. An unlikely feeling of hopefulness filled him. He closed his mouth firmly on a Handel
Te Deum which kept trying to escape.
It was ludicrous, reflected Doyle, that he suddenly couldn’t keep his eyes off Bodie — and at the same time couldn’t bring himself to meet Bodie’s eyes. He rather thought Bodie might be watching him...
Pigs Might Fly:Crone

He took in a breath, blew it out and turned to Bodie. “Do you trust me?”
“With my life,” Bodie answered instantly.
“Cheers. But do you trust me?” He tapped his chest.
Bodie was quiet for a moment. “Your judgment? Not bloody likely. To die for me. In a heartbeat.”
“You can't have both! Either you do or you don't!” Doyle glared...
“'Course I do. Pillock.”
“All right then ... I'm going to defect.”
Bodie wasn't sure he'd heard properly. “What?”
“I'm going to defect!” Doyle said, his tone low and firm. “You do know what that means.”
Bodie looked Doyle in the eye. “Yeah. It means you're going to get both of us killed. Or worse.”
“Sounds like fun..."
Bodie rolled his eyes. “You'll be the death of me yet.”
“For better or worse?”
I Will Follow You:LilyK

So you see, that's where it started. I was working behind the bar at a cute pub in the posher end of Kensington. Kensington, of course, being composed purely of 'posh' and 'posher'. The clientele were, mostly, a genteel sort. Nice accents, business suits or twin set and pearls. The latter for the ladies, you understand. It wasn't that sort of place. We got one or two workmen and, well, we only ran them out if the regulars complained, business is business, after all.
Then there was those two. Lookers, the pair of them. The shorter sported a mane of auburn curls which were so obviously not natural, and a pair of gorgeous green eyes. He also tended to wear very tight jeans, which always showed his best asset to good advantage. The other was dark and brooding. A regular Heathcliff. And his eyes. Oh, deepest blue and penetrating, as if he could see through to your very soul.
They were both so very obviously dangerous young men.
Matchmaker:m31andy:Discovered in Canon

shooting2kill — Wed, 02 Jan 2019 16:33:04 GMT
Visions of Bodie and Doyle. Heroism: the highest and purest form of romance.

... someone had rumbled Doyle, or thought they did... sentenced to death in someone’s flat by a firing squad of two he had kept up his facade to the end, fighting and protesting to the very moment he was left... tied, against the wall.
Then he had gone quite silent.
Bodie, sweating ice, did not have to imagine what that silence cost him; he was fighting the same battle. Clearly Doyle was thinking along the lines he was: that the whole execution setup was a bluff, to get Doyle talking. But if it was not—?
He would blow the gaffe on Cowley’s op. just like that, no question of it, if it would save Doyle’s life. But it seemed to Bodie that there would be no spirit of generous forgiveness in the room. And then they might both end up dead.
So…they had sweated on it. Ice and blood.
Eyes on that jeaned figure against the wall, defiant and cold to the last, perhaps ten seconds away from death with the barrels of two Lugers trained on him, Bodie would not have blamed Doyle for breaking down, falling to his knees, crying out for mercy; he had seen the strongest of men turn into children when they realised death was there for them. But Doyle had shown the deepest, steadiest courage: he had simply waited, without a word, or a breath. Wonderful Tonight:Sebastian

It took just fifteen minutes to get everything and everyone in place. A quarter of an hour's delay, and then events would inexorably unfold to determine Bodie's fate. Doyle positioned himself close to Murphy, kneeling on the rooftop behind a low parapet. They waited in silence. The binoculars were a familiar bulk in his hands, reminding him of duty, of training. Bodie would know they'd try something to save him. Unfortunately, Becker would know that, too...
As he trained the binoculars on the shop door, Doyle saw movement... There was a moment's pause, and then Bodie appeared... filling Doyle's vision. He seemed so close. Bodie's eyes scanned the roofline, and it was hard to believe he couldn't see Doyle; couldn't connect with him. But his gaze fell away, and the binoculars revealed the gun pressed to Bodie...
Murphy had been right: Becker was behind Bodie and to his right. His left arm held Bodie's arm, pressed nearly double behind his back. They shuffled towards the car. He suspected Becker was keeping an eye on Anson, and sweeping the rooftops and cars for snipers, or any surprises. Doyle kept his focus on that gun... He needed an inch; half an inch...
Well Matched at Christmas:PFL(msmoat)

Doyle's skin itched. He felt like a thousand eyes were boring into him and expected his game to be up, to get a bullet in his back any minute. He just hoped Bodie had made it in time because he did not have a plan B. Oh, he wouldn't go down without a fight, would try to take as many as he could down with him. He just hoped to God that it wouldn't come to that. It never even crossed his mind to leave without his partner or to carry on the mission until he received orders that said otherwise. If it was just his own life on the line he wouldn't be half as nervous as this. But he couldn't bear the thought of Bodie going down while he just stood there and watched...

He forced himself to slow down as he walked to the car... God he hoped Bodie had made it, he had to have, they wouldn't get another chance at this. He wished he couldn't check but knew he couldn't without arousing suspicion.
With his hands shaking ever so slightly he unlocked the car... What if Bodie really hadn't made it? If he left now, alone, he knew he would never see Bodie again alive...
Love in Strange Places:Faoil

Doyle started his move, but he caught a flash of light in the hole of a window on the the first floor of the warehouse—metal reflecting the dying rays of the sun— He lunged for Bodie, dragged him back before he broke cover. Bodie stumbled, off-balance, and Doyle flung an arm around him, bearing him to the ground behind the tyres. The gunfire came again, loud and sharp, then stopped. Doyle could hear his own breaths, feel his adrenaline-fuelled heartbeat, and the skin of Bodie’s cheek beneath his fingers. What did this pause mean? Had the gunman cut his losses and run? Or was he baiting the trap? Doyle’s gut told him there was a third gunman hidden in the warehouse, perched high in order to have a line of fire down to the lorry. They’d been drawn to the lorry’s illusion of safety by the other gunmen.
They should move—two different directions to confuse and distract. But he lay still, held on to Bodie, absorbed the quiet as the moment stretched. They were alive, and they knew it was a trap. And then he realised he was stroking Bodie’s cheek. Fuck. He closed his eyes, swallowed, then pushed away from Bodie... A Silent Moment:PFL

“Skellen,” Bodie shouted. He paused for a second, then shouted again. “I’m here to do a deal.”
Laughter came back at them. “You’re joking!”
“You don’t want Doyle, you know you don’t. You want me. Well I’m here.”
“If I’d wanted you, I’d have taken you from your bed this morning.”
“You wanted to make me suffer, well you succeeded. And now I’m here.”
“And what do I have to do to get you?” called Skellen.
“Give me Doyle.” There was a pause. “Alive, Skellen...”
Brecon Beckons:ILWB

Bodie dragged himself back to alertness, hissed a breath of pain as Doyle shifted and he was eased back against the wall...
Just a fluke, their chance of salvation. The chance not to die after god knows how much interrogation. The chance not to live crippled and broken. Three usable bullets in the gun that had been tossed after him in contemptuous jest, believed empty. Incredible amateurs...
Doyle wiped as much blood as he could off his chilled hands, but it clung and caked without water for washing. They seemed steady now, but it would all have to be done in a moment. Three of them to take out. Nothing to waste.
He could probably do it anyway. Cold, hungry, thirsty, tired, fretted with anxiety for Bodie, none of these should affect his deadly accuracy. But any of them might...
"Keepin' that pressure on?"
"Yeah yeah. You don't get rid of me without a fight, you know." Bodie's eyes were watchful, shadowed in his white, strained face.
Doyle checked the gun once more, then settled back beside him...a car pulled up, doors slamming.
"Come on, then, you bastards." Doyle strained to follow the sounds. "Keep that pressed tight, yeh? Don't try jumpin' about bein' heroic, all right? Just keep still and – "
"You'll save me..." The Last Cherry:The Hag (Hagsrus)

He didn’t need Doyle for the boisterous banter or the quiet moments of introspection. He didn’t even need a bloody partner. There were people for all that.
No, none of that was the gaping hole Doyle had left in his life...
Sometimes, when you looked up, just before you fell, there was a pair of eyes holding you steady. The look that promised you were coming back from whatever bloody fool thing you were about to do. The invisible armour plating you carried into battle and out the other side. The Vikings probably had a word for it - it probably meant Doyle...
The Long Trick:Fiorenza_a

Another couple of steps and he was at the door of the sitting room...
Kennedy standing in front of him, the gun in his hand pointed at Bodie’s head...
Kennedy was speaking, his voice as calm as if he were discussing the weather. “Dougherty, go and see what those other two are doing. If they haven’t found Doyle by now it’s too late.”
Kennedy’s back was to Doyle but he could see Bodie’s face. It was calm, resigned almost, until he saw Doyle and surprise lifted his eyebrows. Doyle lifted his finger to his lips. Bodie’s nod was a slight movement of his head.
A side table stood next to the doorway, dark stained mahogany, polished until it shone. But Doyle was more interested in the heavy statue of a rather incongruously modernist cupid that rested on top. He carefully picked it up.
“Bodie, down...”
Cold Water Morning:Fictionwriter

The shot, when it came, sent Bodie straight for the stairs, gun in one hand, R/T in the other. He took the steps two, three at a time, his own speed the only thing that kept him from falling down them, emerged into the damp night as an engine roared to life somewhere behind the farmhouse. In the distance he heard another vehicle hurtling in their direction - the buggy-boo no doubt, abandoning its telephone repair tent by the road, ready to disgorge its own agents.
He was too far away, couldn't run any faster, couldn't get there in time... There was shouting from the house, but he couldn't make out Doyle's voice, or Benny's. There'd only been one bullet.
It would be alright, there'd only been one bullet.
He slid on wet grass at the corner of the building, slammed into the old stonework with a thud that he barely felt, paused only long enough for a single breath and then rounded the side of the wall, gun first, ready to fire at anything that wasn't Doyle...
Just Another Valentine's Day: Slantedlight

... Doyle said quietly ‘Bodie I’ve been shot.”
Of all the things Doyle might have said, Bodie hadn’t expected that. It was his turn to stare back. He was going to ask when that had happened but, of course, it could only have happened back there in the woods when Bodie had fallen. His mind rapidly backtracked over the events of the last 20 minutes or so. Doyle had taken Bodie’s weight through the woods, so the legs were sound. He’d helped with the tourniquet, so the upper limbs were ok, too. Doyle confirmed Bodie’s fears when he said. “Lower ribs. Left side. The bullet’s still there. I’ve found that I can’t drive with it stuck in. I'd lose too much feeling in my legs to be able to drive far. I could try to take it out myself, but you’d make a better job. I’m really sorry.” Bodie wondered what Doyle was sorry about – it wasn’t his fault he’d been shot. In fact, the bullet had had Bodie’s name on it.
“Look, mate,” Bodie countered. “We can get help. Flat down a passing car or something..."
“Bodie… I do know what I’m asking of you – but there isn’t another way...”
No case to answer:Sylvie Orp

"Who were you calling in that phone box?"
"My local betting shop," Bodie whispered. "Had a dog I wanted to lay a wager on."
"Liar!" Liam cuffed his head with an open palm, hard enough that the edges of his vision went grey.
"No need to hit me. I'd've told you the dog's name..."
Bodie looked up and held Dec's eyes. Dec returned his gaze with the same look of avuncular concern that had impressed Bodie on their first meeting. "You do want to talk, Will. Don't you?"
Repulsed that he had ever thought he could admire this man, Bodie's only answer was to spit in his face. Dec stared at him... and it was then that Bodie finally saw his veneer of civility and affability crack.
Dec wiped his face and cleaned his hand on Bodie's shirt. Then he stepped back and turned to Liam.
"Break him," he said, his voice calm and cold and sharp as a blade.
Exile:PR Zed

For a few seconds the tableau held as the echoes of the twin shots died away... There was no sound of pursuit--there wouldn't be, not from these hunters--but they had to be closing fast, drawn by the sound of gunfire...
"Get going... You know you won't make it if you try to drag me along."
The shrill note of a whistle jerked Bodie's head up; he glanced back at his partner, nodded once, then turned and ran, pushing his nervous charge ahead of him into the undergrowth.
Silence fell. Bodie had gone, and as yet there was still no sound of the hunters...
Damn stupid way to end up! A revolution in one of those ten-a-penny countries whose fate, since Independence, had been to become the bloody battle-ground for one warring faction after another. A deposed leader, no better and no worse than all the others, who had to be rescued from the new regime; of little importance in himself, the information he carried in his head would give the government an edge with his successors. No official involvement, of course; send in a couple of men... and Bodie knew the country, had fought over it in his mercenary days...
Bodie was safe... that was something...
Long Shadows: N N West(raynewton)

It's gonna happen. Dear God, this is it. Bodie . . .
Ray turned his head enough to see his lover. Blue eyes met green. Terror, longing, love, and farewell flashed between them.
"Bodie . . ." Doyle choked; the words wouldn't come.
"I know. The same." Bodie's voice was soft, a gruff whisper, but carried enough passion to ease Doyle's aching chest. "Goodbye, Ray. It's been fun."
Doyle tried to smile, and failed miserably. "Hadn't it though. No
regrets?"
"Only one. Didn't take any of them with us."
Doyle couldn't hold down a weary chuckle. "Maybe next time."
The click of the Walther's released safety was as loud as a shot.
Doyle gave Bodie a final faltering smile then looked away. He couldn't bear to watch Bodie's death. Nor, if Schneider shot Doyle first, did he want Bodie to witness his.
He wanted to close his eyes, to pull away from the shot he knew would come, yet he didn't move. He would not give their killers the satisfaction of seeing him cringe...
Ransom:Vicki L Martin:Proslib & Professional B & D, published by Satyr D'Nite Press, 1993)

Beefy man gave him a knowing grin, and raised two casual fingers in the air.
Doyle bounced to his feet again.
This time, Bodie was too slow. Oh no. Oh, Ray—
Grimacing, Bodie rushed into the fray after Doyle. Too late for half measures now, he went at it with his fists, clocking anyone who got near, doing his best to watch Doyle’s back...
A fist caught Bodie in the eye. He saw stars, went down, then popped up, delivered two for good measure, laid about him like a fiend. Everyone ignored the landlord.
Bodie was down again...
Pub Fight:Hutchnystarsk

< “What did you think you were doing out there, eh?” Bodie raised an arm to point at the still smouldering warehouse... Did you even think at all? Giving yourself up to Kendall like that—without a fight?”
Doyle’s eyes narrowed. “My cover was blown. Kendall’s new man knew I was CI5. There was no point in dragging it out.” He scowled. “I didn’t want him askin’ questions that might have exposed you as well.”
“I can take care of myself, mate. Don’t need you sacrificing yourself for me.” Bodie sucked in a deep breath and stared at him. He didn’t look happy with what he saw. “That’s it, isn’t it? You put me ahead of the job. Cowley’s going to have your guts for garters.”
“Yeah, well I figured it was bloody well worth it,” Doyle snarled. “Couldn’t have him needin’ to replace two agents—expensive, that is.”
The attempt at humour fell flat... “It’s not a joke, Ray. We can’t let the fact that we’re having it off with each other interfere with the job.”
Doyle looked away. “I know that.”
“Then why? Why’d you just let them take you?”
“Couldn’t see you get hurt. Not when I could do something to protect your back. It’s what partners do,” he said defiantly. “And it’s more than getting a leg over-”
Balanced on the Edge of Autumn: merentha13

For the third day in a row Doyle sat in his car watching the upscale mews, trying to find the courage to ask for forgiveness. It had been three years since he’d last seen Bodie. He needed closure. C’mon Doyle – if you’re going to do it, get moving. Doyle shifted himself from the car and walked to the door. He hesitated for several seconds...
Someone said doors provided opportunities. Answer the bell and accept the challenge. So he opened doors and took chances. Sometimes it didn’t work out – art school and Ann Holly among the biggest of his missed ‘opportunities’. But sometimes things went right – at least for a while. He’d been content as a policeman - until he could no longer deal with the corruption. The doorbell had rung again and George Cowley was on the other side. A man who shared the same sense of right and wrong, a man who believed in justice for everyone, a man he could trust. In the end that door had closed, too. Manton, Molner, Brian Cook – Doyle began to question Cowley and his own ability to continue in the job. And then his world fell apart. He opened the one door he shouldn’t have, by-passed the one bell he should have rung and walked into his home to find Bodie with Jimmy Keller.
Years ago, he chided himself. Get over it... For Whom the Bell Tolls:merentha13

"Cover me," he said tersely. "I'm goin' in."
Doyle spat and wiped his mouth. "The fuck you are." They had never, not since the first days of training, played it that way. Doyle, faster and smaller, had always gone in first, ably and expertly covered by his partner, the better long-range shot.
In that second, looking into Doyle's dead, cold eyes, Bodie knew and understood that there were harder ways of losing Doyle than seeing him fall.
Eyes hard and bleak, he drew up his gun, gestured Doyle on his way...
For a moment no-one moved...
November:Sebastian

Before I knew it, Ray was crouched over a real atom bomb. All of us were sweating like pigs, and the fear in that room was like air pollution. You could feel it, taste it, smell it. It had my heart beating, my lungs constricted, my head throbbing.
Or that could have been love.
Even with the fate of London in our hands, I found myself thinking of...that. Even with the stink of fear in the air, I could smell Ray's sweat. It was different. Exciting. Sexy. Warm. I was across the room, holding a gun to the head of a world-class arsehole, but my eyes were on Ray's every move. I told myself that if there was a mistake and the bomb went off, I was going to shoot that fool even as the world ended. Shoot him for ruining my world, for killing Ray Doyle before I could even tell him....
Thinking about it was something I couldn't do during the worst moments. About loving Ray. I resented the terrorists because I couldn't think about what I wanted to think about. I had to stand there and worry about being blown to hell.
Post-Stakeout:DVS

"Ray?"
One croaky, but unmistakable word.
Doyle slid forward to kneel beside him, holding on tightly to the stretcher to steady himself against the erratic movements of the speeding vehicle.
Bodie fought to open his eyes. "Are you all right?" he asked, his words heavily slurred.
"Am I all right?" Doyle repeated.... Yes, I'm fine. You're the one being rushed to hospital at ninety miles an hour, you know. Don't worry, you're going to make it, with everything intact."
"The others?" Bodie questioned.
"Not a scratch, mate. Thanks to you."
Bodie felt his eyes close involuntarily. "You won't leave me?" he asked, already partially under again.
"I'm sticking to you like glue, sunshine," Doyle reassured his unconscious partner.
Holding Out for a Hero:Claire Dobbin

“We’re not young Turks anymore... What if I can’t save you, Ray? Can’t back you up? You think I was scared when we were so over-trained we could hardly rest, knew every way to shoot up every room in the venue, and not now? I’m fuckin’ terrified, mate, even without Operation bloody Susies when anybody could be shooting at us...
“Eight years we’ve been partners, and you’ve fought for me, fought Cowley for me, found me when I was lost, kidnapped, shot—there’s nothing more. Nothing better you could have done..."
Build with the Stones We Have:jat_sapphire

The idea that Doyle was to be lashed the next day was all he could think about... It was a rite of passage, proof of strength. He’d endured his trial, absurdly proud that he’d taken five strikes without crying...
Doyle’s punishment would be far worse. Bodie had seen the occasional whippings in the Buckingham pavilion, usually because he had to be seen there for an investigation. Floggings were not the sort of entertainment he preferred. Footy and a good lager at the pub were his choice of spectator sports. Most mandated floggings were twenty-five or more strikes on naked flesh. All over, not only the upper back.
He’d grappled with the idea of spiriting Doyle away all afternoon. Hell, he was an operative, with multiple passports, hidden caches of money, and contacts all over the world. Wouldn’t take an hour to disappear. Cowley might never find them...
Parsing the Sentence:Dawnwind

Gradually, as his awareness grew, he realised the commotion had stopped and the only sound he could hear now was heavy breathing. He forced his eyes open...
“Christ Ray, you made a right cock up of that,” he said between laboured breaths... gathering momentum as he slid his arm behind Doyle’s shoulders to lever him up. “Come on, you’re alright.”
Sitting up with Bodie’s help he saw the thug laid out cold... “What happened?”
“The bastard took a dislike to you and, naturally, I took a dislike to him,” was the cheerful reply...
Doyle closed his eyes and nodded. “Cowley will kill us.”
“Can you walk?”
“Of course, I can bloody walk,” he grumbled hoarsely...
“Come on.” Bodie said, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “Looks like you need to brush up on your undercover skills my son.”
Smoke and Mirrors:ci5mates

< My attention shifted abruptly to Bodie's face. Ravaged... it suddenly crumpled, the granite melting away like limestone in acid. Stark and revealing in the brief glimpse I got, it rocked me into realisation of a truth I should have known before... How had I failed to understand that Bodie had never been the strong one of the pair? That Doyle's need for Bodie had never exceeded Bodie's for him. That, very possibly, Bodie was even more bereft without Doyle than Doyle was without Bodie. How had I failed to realise the magnitude of the sacrifice Bodie had made in trusting Doyle to the imagined power of my obsessive devotion?
We'd got it wrong, both of us. We'd both failed to understand that Doyle had never needed someone who could be strong for him. What Doyle had only and always needed, and needed now, was someone he could be strong for
Dancing in the Rain:istia

shooting2kill — Fri, 04 May 2018 18:11:34 GMT
Visions of Bodie and Doyle: wounds of body and soul.

Overdosing on Bodie and Doyle *again*. But. I. Don't. Care. Have a good weekend!

“What’s my name?” he asked, voice a husk of itself, knowing that he should know, that he’d been told, he’d been told a dozen times before.
The man didn’t speak, didn’t say anything again, silent as he’d been when he first stepped into the flat, just watching him, the weight of his gaze as solid as that of his body.
“I remember the explosion,” he continued, “I remember the ambulance, and the hospital and every bloody minute of Cowley’s questions and the pictures they keep showing me - all of it. So why don’t I remember…?”
“Me…” the man whispered, “And you... You knew me just now... "
“Just you - that I do remember.” An important thing to remember, he knew that.
Nobody:Slantedlight

I was only wanting a quiet drink...
It had been one hell of a week, too much travel, too much paperwork and without the merest hint of excitement. I was jaded to the point of tiredness and bored to the point of depression. The barman soon huffily gave up his unsubtle attempts at conversation and I mentally waved away any guilt I felt about that. I might well be sad and lonely but that was a situation of my own making and nobody had ever said that getting older would be a bed of roses. After all, I’d only really wanted a quiet drink...
The bar was staring to fill and suddenly my senses prickled. Though I had no particular feeling of foreboding, I looked up sharply and then I saw him...
I continued to stare, long suppressed emotions fighting their way upwards, when he turned, as I knew he would and looked straight at me...
A Quiet Drink:Pale Rider (Boothross)

The body that was Bodie didn't move. Doyle was aware of himself demanding an ambulance over the RT. He was aware of himself sinking to his knees in a wide deep puddle... And blood. There was that, too. A gallon of bright red A positive. Doyle's heart hammered in his chest. He could hear breath rasping in his chest. He was aware that he hadn’t checked the perimeter, hadn't secured the area. For all he knew, hands now on Bodie's bloody jacket, there could be a nice, taut trip wire tightly stretched to a dirty great explosive. Ready to take him down; ready to turn what was left of him and his partner into tatty little bits of CI5 confetti.
Somewhere in the distance in unfamiliar streets an ambulance wailed...
Searching through hell for Bodie:Dollydaydream

Doyle had always known most of the other agents thought him cold. In some ways they were correct; he'd rather keep his distance. Few saw the self-protective instincts which motivated his sharp tongue and independent streak for what they were, choosing instead to view them as aloofness or lack of care. Bodie had always been the exception, the one person to see through the prickliness. Over the years he'd grown used to unloosing his tongue on his partner, ever confident that Bodie was capable of deflecting the venom and assuaging the hurt with his peculiar patience.

But Bodie didn't seem interested in raising his spirits anymore.
Double or Nothing:Tiranog (Rosemary Callahan)

When had Doyle stopped caring?
When had the furious blast of Doyle's temper become soul deep winter? When had the bitter frost first o'erspilled to fill contemptuous fists? When had Doyle learned this cold despite?
Bodie sipped his drink and tried to remember the first hasty word for which Doyle hadn't apologised. The first excuse invented to avoid his company. The first time Cowley had snapped at him and Doyle's eyes slid away, leaving him hanging.
No, there were no reasons, not any more. He should leave. Now, in the gathering twilight. Slink away, as he had all those years ago, to find his fortune in the blood and dust of another continent.
Doyle had never understood that part of him...
Quinquireme of Nineveh:Fiorenza_a

I rise to my feet, trying to ignore the cold, the smarting across my back, the dank smell of straw and the silver path of the moon, glowing on Bodie’s marble white skin. He’s very still, his powerful frame strangely subdued and it boosts my fury. He always says I have a lousy temper, but in this case I think I’m justified. It might be a long shot, but it’s the only shot. Not wasting any more time, I move to the door and I see him struggling to shift himself to a better position before subsiding again with a small moan.
“Open up. My partner…something’s wrong. Open up.”
Nothing but I don’t give up. Another glance at Bodie and the black stain of blood over one flank drives me over the edge. I kick at the door, again and again. It’s holding but I feel a slight give. Bodie shifts again, trying to gear himself up to help. I know he can’t.
“Open the door, or I swear I’ll kick it down, he needs a doctor...”
Doyle & Bodie - White Marble:Jaicen5

After all this time he could still recall the thud of his vengeful fist into Paulie Coogan's gut, though the pain of the kidney punch that had provoked it was no more than a wisp of memory.
Not my fault. He was already injured...
Yes, Paul had attacked him. Painful. But self-defence? No. That's what they'd claimed, but no. There'd been no real threat except to his pride, smarting from John Coogan's dismissive "Not enough weight."
Enough weight behind that punch...
"You know what they made of me, don't you?" he'd demanded of Bodie.
But when was I ever different?
..."I cut up another kid and I was just a kid meself," he'd told Bodie. "And I got away with it...."
Didn't get away with this one... Not proven, that's not a verdict of innocent. And I'll never know for sure if it was my fist that finished him off.
Through a glass, darkly:The Hag

The flip of a page brought Bodie face to face with himself. It was after that episode with Andrew Drake pretending to be a double agent. Drake's arm was still in the cast. Cowley's diffident invitation had mentioned something about strong backs and weak minds, but the three of them spent a pleasant weekend roughing it in Scotland...
In the picture he was holding an eight-pound bass, a smirk on his stubbly face. Drake sat the other side of the fire. Colorless, bland little Andy Drake. He'd wondered at the time what made Cowley drag him along.
Now he knew. Andy didn't sell out CI5, consort with international assassins, try to kill him, or sodomize his partner. It took pitifully little to earn Cowley's loyalty.
A slight shadow marred the picture as he started to turn the page. He took a closer look. On the picture, right beside his smiling face, there was a slight cut- The realization hit him like a shot in the solar plexus. Cowley had sat down to purposefully cut him out of the album. The phone had rung or the kettle had whistled, but the intention marred the photo. He didn't expect it to hurt this much...
The Greatest Treason:Lezlie Shell:D-Notice

He doesn't like killing people. It comes with the job, and the job needs doing, but he worries sometimes that he's not much different from the bastards on the other side.
Freedom is priceless, people say. What they mean is that freedom's fucking expensive. Sometimes you pay in insomnia and a seasick conscience; sometimes you pay in your own blood.
He died for his country. That's how his best friend's gravestone is going to read, once it's ready. They're still carving it. He got them to show him a drawing; he doesn't expect to see the real thing. In a few days he'll probably have the grave next door.
He's got a war to fight. Some of it's revenge, yeah, and he's going against orders, doing this. But some of it's plain cold duty. This is an enemy that's too knowledgeable and too ruthless to turn your back on.
He checks his weapon... He's ready...
Duty:kindkit

“Bodie?” he gasped.
“Yeah?” Bodie was having his own problems catching his breath, the sudden relief flooding over him like a tidal wave.
“Describe where we are...I need to know....”
Doyle had always been an incredibly observant person, with an eye for every detail, and now he couldn’t rely on that sense. Bodie understood this, and started to describe the scene. “It’s not far different from when we left,” he said, looking about. “Still no moon, very dark, no people about..."
“Can you still see the yacht?”
Bodie scanned the horizon looking for lights. “No...”
Finn Of The Yard:ILWB

Late July: The hour had already gone nine of the evening, but heat from the pavement rose like the humid breath of some vast underground creature, rising stifling and ill-scented to the open first floor window of Raymond Doyle's flat. It was the second day of a so-far remarkably sultry week; the forecasters said hope was in sight, but it would be another twenty four hours before cooling showers were anticipated...
There were children playing a ruthless game of kick-can. Their squeals of laughter and outrage had drawn him from his chores in the kitchen, a welcome diversion to the unrewarding process of scraping his broiling pan preparatory to fixing cod for dinner. A long time had passed since the pan had been used, and in the interim it had only been wiped clean prior to packing for the latest move. Sight of it had driven a spoke of reminiscent agony into Doyle out of all proportion to the expenditure of energy needed to set it to rights.
The last time he had used it, Bodie had been here with him. The last time he had used it, Bodie had still been alive... The Return:Ellis Ward

He turned from the window when he heard Ray deep in sleep. He stood there several minutes watching him slumber. Then a chill went up his spine.
He remembered another time when he had watched Ray sleep. That time he hadn't been sure that Ray would ever wake, but he did, and Bodie remembered.
Remembered how he felt those few hours when he thought Ray was lost to him, how simple his whole world became – Ray had been the only thing that had really mattered. He'd forgotten that until now, and as he watched Ray sleep he realised that nothing had changed, Ray was really the only thing that mattered now. Ray was more important than any job, or anyone. What should he do with knowledge like that?
The Things You Need Come Slow:KrisserCI5

"Nothing ever gets to you, does it?" It comes out harsh, more accusatory than he'd meant it.
"Not if I can help it, no," Bodie replies, but the brightness of his tone reveals it for a lie. He takes one look at Doyle's expression and hands over the glass of scotch that was clearly meant to be his own. He turns back to pour another for himself. "It's over now, though, isn't it?"
"Over? It'll never be over, after a verdict like that."
"What, not proven?"
"Yeah. Doesn't mean anything, does it? Not enough evidence for a conviction, that's all..."
"You were never on trial, Ray."
"You know better than that. We were all on trial in that room. Me, you, Cowley--all of CI5."
"And we survived."
But Paul Coogan hadn't...
Burden of Proof:Sarah K

Too many lives... And Bodie's.
Especially Bodie's.
He closed his eyes tightly, seeing only the tableau that had haunted him for hours.
Bodie and Karen.
Damn them both to hell...
But, oh God, if anything happened to Bodie...
This was insane; Bodie had betrayed him. It shouldn't matter anymore.
Except that it mattered more than anything had ever mattered before.
Well, maybe... oh, please... maybe he was wrong about Bodie and Karen... maybe Bodie'd be able to explain and...
Only there was other contradictory evidence. All his memories... all the assurance he should have needed that Bodie loved him...
Action of the Tiger:EPS (Lillian_Shepherd)

Bodie leaned against the window and watched his partner. Doyle had stopped in the middle of the car park. He stood unmoving, shoulders hunched against the rain, seemingly unaware of the water running off the fabric of the umbrella and soaking his boots. Bodie felt a tug at his heart and swallowed an affectionate smile. No one could look as wretched and dejected and lost as Doyle. Uneven cheekbones and long nose reddened by the brisk wind, damp curls dripping onto a tight t-shirt and jeans plastered against slim thighs left Doyle looking forlorn and miserable.
I’d help you if you’d let me, Ray. Want to. But you always shut me out.
On Offer:Merentha13

She was still yelling at him when he got to the car.
"Who do you think you are?"
Bodie was there, doing a fairly good imitation of the high-pitched voice...
She'd made him feel like a nameless thug. He'd been so tempted to stand there and tell her what he did for a living, and why, and exactly what the bombs they'd been making did to human bodies...
"Who do you think you are, you stupid little bastard? Get upstairs. Have you seen the time ...you carrying a knife again?"
"No, dad. But..."
"No buts. Get yourself chucked in borstal, you will, if you get involved in any more fights. And don't give me that crap about self-defence. "
"But Dad..."
"Get it into your head. Keep out of trouble and you might just come to something. God knows what, mind. Now bugger off."
Doyle shook his head, the images vivid.... Christ, half the people he'd met asked him that, when he thought about it... "Who do you think you are...?" Subject Closed:brenk

Cowley didn’t doubt himself very often in life, but at that very moment he was inwardly panicking. He had taken a huge risk, assuming that the Russian’s would use stun gas rather than a lethal alternative, after all, they had wanted to take Drake alive, hadn’t they? It had all gone so well. Bodie and Doyle were at the peak of physical fitness, they should recover from this with no ill effects. But was there a chance he had miscalculated?

It was a matter of seconds before Doyle reacted to the oxygen, but to Bodie it felt like hours...
Need:ILWB

There'd been nothing he could do. It had been a set up, right from the start. And not by Marikka, no, not even her, so that he could rage against her treachery.
Bloody Doyle...
The chase had gone out of him, had crumpled to the ground in front of him, had died as he looked on…
Load of melodramatic poppycock.
The chase had died as he'd kissed her in that hotel room, as he'd realised that he didn't love her again, couldn't, and worse than that - he didn't even want her again.
It had almost been a relief when those bastards crashed through the door. At least then he hadn't had to explain that she was doing nothing to him, nothing for him, that…
But he wouldn't have done that, would he? He'd have thought of somebody else, somebody who did turn him on, somebody who could make him hard with just a glance, or by licking his lips, or by sliding hands slowly across his own denim-clad buttocks.
His own.
Come End of Day:Slantedlight

Almond eyes. An enchanting little smile. Hair cut in an odd shape. Craftswoman's hands, competently wielding her tools. Killer's hands clasped around the silenced gun. She'd bent over him and stared into his face after the second bullet, and their eyes had met. The third bullet... Had she wanted to give him that slight chance? Or was it a deliberate cruelty, leaving him alone to bleed to death, withholding the mercy of the coup de grace, the futile battlefield shriving?
"....I could smell you sweating, so I knew you were real. I knew it was you even when I was still seeing her. Her and the gun. I knew it was you. Kept seeing her coming back, though. Kept seeing.... Keep seeing.... Then I couldn't see her at all... Dreamed about you, too--thought she'd go after you next. Keep thinking--"
Bodie had shifted him into the recovery position, staunched the blood, zoomed off down to the car to call an ambulance when the phone wasn't working, returned to kneel beside him. "They're coming, Ray. You'll be fine. Just hang on a bit, all right? You'll be fine." Over and over, words Doyle had clung to, the sound of his voice an anchor in the gathering blackness. He'd wanted to speak, to make amends, to say goodbye. "They're here, Ray, it's going to be fine, oh christ I love you, hang on, all right?" Then the expert hands took over, gathered him onto a stretcher, and the pain that had been hovering at the edge of his shocked awareness suddenly crashed in.. All Hallows Eve:The Hag

He was unarmed for this operation; it was required for the part he was to play. Murphy and Susan Fischer were covering him from hidden sites. Each held a high-power rifle as well as their standard Browning pistols. Doyle was to negotiate with Coogan, pretend to comply with the demands he had phoned into the Controller. It was their only chance to grab Bodie away from the madman who held him as hostage...
Paul Coogan had been found dead. Doyle had been cleared in the inquiry. Doyle clenched his teeth. Bodie had discussed the whole affair with him. Had enveloped him in his arms in bed, after they had become lovers. Doyle had never quite been able to exonerate himself for the death. It had been something he had simply been forced to live with.
Why did he have to bring Bodie into it? Doyle's desperate thoughts lanced through him. Did John Coogan know of the depth of their involvement? Doyle had kept close wraps on his relationship with Bodie for security's sake. As for himself, Doyle would be willing to let John Coogan have him, to do what he wished as expiation for the death. If it would save Bodie..
Closely Watched Trains:Susan Douglass

For a moment he stands there, fingers digging into the cold hand, harder than he should, but desperate to maintain some connection that tells him his partner is still alive, still in that motionless shell.
He's never spoken here, as if words will break the spell, tip the fragile balance toward death. But there's something burning in his throat, a word, a question, something bound together.
He sucks in a sharp breath before speaking the word he's never uttered since that day, the name he's never dared say, a word almost mystical.
"Sunshine?"
For a moment there's nothing and he knows he's been foolish, clinging to some phantom hope. There's no answer and he doesn't expect one, not now, not anymore. The optimistic will he clung to in the dark days when Doyle lay in the shadow world with a bullet in his heart has caved under harsh reality. There's no fairytale promises this time, no dreams to guide him back. Even his will isn't strong enough for this.
And then, in the instant before he's about to let go, the limp fingers tighten around his and faintly squeeze... Broken:D'Angelo's Song

Fifteen pounds, they'd said. Not even a fraction of what Bodie bench-pressed one handed when he was showing off. But weighed out in high explosives strapped securely over his heart, those fifteen pounds had dragged like the Rock of Gibraltar in as many seconds. With his hands tied behind his back, the ungainly press of it had threatened his balance as he ran hell-for-leather away from the gunfire, away from the chaos of voices, and away from the maniac pounding after him through the smoke.
Bodie had rarely known such impotent fury as he had at the sight of Doyle casting his lot like that, defying Bodie's instinct to keep him safe and give some meaning to the death he was undoubtedly seconds away from. He couldn't even remember the words they had spat at each other across the rapidly shrinking distance. And it wasn't that Bodie hadn't saved lives before or been saved by others. On the streets of Belfast and in the jungles of Africa, a timely shot or a shove on the shoulder had made the difference many a time. Hell, he and Doyle had done it so often their alert system was down to the fine art of a raised eyebrow and a head tilt.
Still, he had never been the focus of such single-minded determination to be rescued or have someone die trying. It was burned onto his retina: the flash of that ridiculous burgundy shirt when Doyle had thundered out across the grass, arms pistoning, jaw set, decision made there and then, though the heavens would... A Falling Off:Callisto

His head pounded, his body ached, and his stomach roiled. But something made this awakening much worse than the other times he'd been drugged: the taste of blood and the intensely aching throb in his mouth. Bodie vainly tried to rouse himself enough to assess his situation, but the drug held him firmly in its grasp. His brain felt sluggish, and his body was heavy and slow.
With a low groan, (he) finally managed to open his eyes. He glanced around slowly, thoroughly confused. He had absolutely no idea where he was, but before he could examine his situation further, he felt his stomach lurch. His gut clenched as he swallowed, and blood slid down his throat, making him choke. He coughed harshly, and more blood spurted from his nose in messy bubbles. He swiped at the muck and smeared it across his lips with the back of one shaky hand. He turned his head as his stomach rebelled and managed to raise himself up just enough to vomit onto the ground instead of himself. Even when his traitorous stomach was empty, dry heaves kept him retching for many moments until they finally abated.
Cold seeped into his bones while he slept until he woke abruptly, his teeth chattering. Pain jolted through his mouth, burning a path into his brain. He lay very still as he struggled to control it, focusing his hearing for the moment. Around him everything was quiet, save for the drip-drip-drip of water somewhere to his right. Shivering, his eyes opened, and he once again found himself in that same strange place he remembered from his brief surface to consciousness a while ago. Watery light seeped through broken spaces in the roof over his head, and he finally found the will to make himself take notice of his surroundings.
Cautiously he sat up and looked around. He was in some sort of disused warehouse...
Heaven Is A Place On Earth:LilyK

shooting2kill — Fri, 02 Feb 2018 08:40:54 GMT
Visions of Bodie and Doyle: the beauty of forearms, biceps and associated areas.

1) Apologies for the amount of images here - you know how it is with these boys, once you start it's hard to stop.
2) And apologies for the slight imbalance towards Doyle, Bodie seems to feel the cold more!

As time passed, Bodie’s instinct turned to conviction that Doyle was going to kill himself. He seemed to have no self preservation. He’d doggedly do whatever he was told, no light in his eyes anymore. He didn’t flare up as often and when he did, it seemed hopeless, like a tiger snarling against a stick poked through his cage. His anger only wore him out further and somehow Bodie was starting to hate the sight of Doyle’s fruitless anger and the way he was wearing down...

Doyle was certainly becoming one of the most interesting things about the training. The man was an enigma wrapped in danger. And Bodie was quite ready to test himself against that danger again, even if he never figured out the enigma part.
Broken Reeds:Hutchynstarsk/Allie

He looked up at Cowley.
“What do you want us to do?”
“Kruger is an old acquaintance of Bodie’s. I want you both to infiltrate his organisation and find out everything about this weapon, how he makes it, who is interested in it.”
Doyle felt like someone punched him in the throat. He did not know what to say. Of course he’d known about Bodie’s dubious past, but in the last months, he’d somehow thought that Bodie couldn’t have been that bad. He was a loyal, good partner, risking his life to protect the innocent. But this… Bodie and Kruger?
And then another thought dawned on him.
“But it says here that Kruger is still in Africa.”
“Exactly, Doyle. And that’s where you and Bodie will be going first thing tomorrow morning.”
Doyle gaped...
In the Heart of Darkness:faoil

The morning had started very badly for Bodie. Roused from a warm woman by the incessant ringing of the phone, it had taken only a few terse sentences from Cowley to wake him up and get him out of bed. Shaking Julia, or Claudia, or someone ending in ‘a’ awake, he gallantly told them how good it had been for him, cited an urgent problem at work, and promised to ring them again, before shooing Julia/Claudia out the door.

Fifteen minutes later he was striding through the doors of CI5’s headquarters, grim faced, and in no mooed to swap pleasantries with anyone. He pushed open the door to George Cowley’s office... It wasn’t going to be a good day.
Limehouse Blues: Sadlady

They had danced around each other for months.
If either had noticed that the little touches had become just that tiny bit more intimate, the looks that bit more lingering, then neither of them had mentioned it. Somewhere along the line, the fluttering of pretty bird’s wings had quieted, both Bodie and Doyle dating less women in favour of enjoying each other’s company instead. The inevitability of their professional partnership turning into something entirely more personal was something they had both still tentatively held at arm’s length. The thrill of the chase and the excitement of the secret knowledge still thrumming through their veins, they both held off from taking the final plunge. Neither quite ready to admit to himself that he was falling in love, they flirted and teased, gently stringing out the courtship towards it’s exquisite conclusion.
The O'Neill op changed all that...
Healing:Pale Rider (Boothross)

He realised with startling clarity that he truly missed Doyle's voice, and his laugh.
How many stake outs had he survived successfully all because Doyle would ramble on with one story or another?
How many times had he fallen asleep listening to that voice? Doyle's voice was almost like a safety net enfolding him.
Not hearing Doyle's voice again would be worse than not hearing music again...
They were partners. Partners had each other's back, looked out for one another, took care of each other.
He thought of Lucas and McCabe: they did all right by each other on the job, but other than darts night at the pub they didn't spend their down time together, injured or not...
Bodie was brought up short in his own thoughts. He wasn't missing the birds. He'd choose time with Doyle over a bodacious bird . . . any bird in fact. If only . . . warnings that this was dipping down a dangerous path made him pause, but onward into treacherous territory he forged. If only what?
On A Silent Night:KrisserCI5

Through the thin door he could hear Bodie's fading footsteps, not hurrying, just going away... He'd finally done it - pushed Bodie too far. Played his little game once too often. That remark about the shower had been deliberate, harking back to a similar night not so long ago....
"Well it was fun while it lasted," he told the silent room in a vain attempt to shrug away this sudden empty feeling. It was true. It had been fun. Teasing his partner - knowing he could get him going - was a weird sort of turn on. He had enjoyed Bodie's discomfort. After all, Bodie did it to him often enough. All those black tight clothes, the smoldering look-don't-touch attitude...hell, it was only natural he'd get a kick out of knowing Bodie wanted him. Wasn't it?
But now, as surely as if he'd said it aloud, Bodie had called a halt to the game.
"Oh well," Ray shrugged and went to retrieve his shirt. It didn't matter. Of course it didn't. A bit of harmless fun, another way to relieve the boredom of interminable waits between action times. But if Bodie figured he could keep on teasing and not get some sort of retaliation he had another think coming. The next time he wore black... Voyeur:Anne Carr

Doyle searched Bodie's face for some idea of how he was feeling, but the look his partner was giving him was implacable. "Didn't think he'd be your type — didn't think blokes were your type."
Bodie looked at the floor. "They're not." He glanced back up to meet Doyle's eyes. "Usually. You got a problem with it?" Before Doyle could answer, Bodie added a little more harshly, "And don't try to tell me you've never experimented that way."
It was true, he had. More times, in fact, than he could remember...
"What if I have?" he conceded, quietly...
"Pot, kettle, black."
His partner had a point. So what was his problem? he wondered. "You don't have to go shovin' it in my face," he said after a moment's consideration. "How about showin' a bit of discretion?"
"It's all right for me to chat blokes up, as long as I don't do it in front of you," Bodie interpreted.
Doyle could feel his anger rising. "Yeah, that's right."
That Look:Awarrington

Then the smell hit him. They say that smell is one of the greatest triggers of memory that the human body has. Better than touch and sound and taste, smell can transport you back to a time, perhaps even one you tried to forget, in a single instant. The blink of an eye. This smell was familiar and it prompted floods of images, from years of working in this game, years of seeing the same thing shout after shout...
The stairs were metal, a black spiral freestanding from the wall. There were lights directly above the top steps. Spotlights that had been added by some previous owner or another to give the place some sort of modern feel. Those lights were attached to a winding metal bar, probably bought from some DIY shop or other and bent and moulded to look artistic.
Hanging from that bar, on a section of strong rope, was a body... He had been Bodie's height, or thereabouts, but his body was slimmer. Less meat on the bones, so to speak. And that was all he was now, so much raw meat. His face wasn't frozen in a mask of surprise, or shocked in any way, instead the eyes were closed and the mouth slack, as if he'd gone peacefully. The rest of the evidence was very much to the contrary. There were deep gouges across the chest, as if someone had started digging for a heart and given up half way. The meaty flaps of skin were washed in right red blood, the details lost from a distance.
But the smell... Half Lives: Queen Bamfie

At this Cowley broke in. "Until we hear that he’s alive, this conversation goes no further. I won’t negotiate for a corpse."
"A logical point, Mr Cowley. Very well, perhaps this will show my good faith. You’ll have to be patient, we’ll see if we can wake him up."
A click as the receiver on the other end was set down, then came a few sounds that Bodie couldn’t decipher, muffled voices, a moment’s silence, then a hoarse, slurred voice could be heard.
"Sir?"
"Doyle."
...Doyle lowered his voice and spoke quickly, his voice a little steadier. "It’s Cane. Be careful, there’s a…"
A shout drowned out whatever Doyle was trying to say, and though they heard the words, neither Bodie nor Cowley could make them out.
The voices stopped suddenly and Doyle broke off with a cry, then Bodie heard a thud and a dull moan coming faintly over the line... Holding On:Rhianne

"How long has this been brewing, then, d'you think," he finally managed, his voice shaking; Bodie was silent for a moment, then he sighed heavily, slumping a little and looking down into his drink as he said in a voice softer and more gentle than Ray had ever heard from him,
"For me? The day we met. At the sports club, remember?"
His smile was ... a little sad as he looked up again, his face open and vulnerable.
"You were standing at the bar, beside some gorgeous long-legged blonde piece in a tennis skirt...but it was your arse I couldn't take my eyes off. And when you turned around and smiled at me with that mouth...."
He reached out carefully to touch Ray's perfect Cupid's Bow, fingers pressing lightly before he drew back and sighed again.
"I knew then, I think. I just didn't want to admit it..."
(A)First Time{Vesta

...up the wide set of stairs that led to a dark blue door.
Bodie's door...
Doyle leant his shoulder against the rough London bricks and tried to steady himself. Just because someone might answer the doorbell's summons didn't mean that he shouldn't ring it. After all, he was here to talk to Bodie. Or at least try to...
The doorbell. Ring it.
He stretched out his hand and thumbed the illuminated tag that stated '6'.
Two years, eight months and twenty-four days since he had last seen Bodie. Longer since they had spoken, for the last glimpse of him had been at the trial. The cool impassive features finally breaking into a semblance of life when the sentence was announced. At the time he thought the emotion was a faint residual sympathy for the man who had been his partner. It had taken nearly a year of waiting for every visiting time, waiting to see Bodie's face, each time being disappointed, before he'd come to realise the emotion had probably been closer to contempt that the judge hadn't put him away for life.
Despite himself, he pressed the door-bell...
The Pillory:Kitty Fisher

Now there was a space between them which might just as well have been as wide as a canyon. Yet for all that, Bodie was still very aware of the proximity of the man who stood those scant inches away from him. It seemed as if he could feel the heat from his partner's body, but was certain it was just the product of his overactive imagination. He tried to imagine what might be going through Doyle's mind at that moment, being so close to the man he fancied. He wondered if it turned him on being this near or if Doyle was wishing he could hold him. Blimey, Doyle'd managed a sight more than that earlier.
None So Blind:awarrington

Bodie let himself in and Doyle smiled to himself. They were so close and possibly about to become closer but he wouldn’t go too fast. He might still be wrong, just caught up in his own wishful thinking. Bodie was whistling jauntily as he put a bottle on the table and shrugged off his coat. Then he made a display of noticing the chocolates, waggling his eyebrows and saying, in an exaggerated fashion, ‘Somebody loves you then?’
Doyle's lips twitched. ‘Maybe, maybe not. Might be booby trapped, or poisoned or something. Dunno who sent them. Found them on the doorstep this morning. Would have taken them to work if I’d been going in. As it is, they can go to be tested on Monday.’ Bodie’s face was a picture.
‘You’re going to hand them over to the lab boys? But they’re...they’re O.K. Honestly. I should know...’ Bodie’s features were a mass of blushes and confusion as he realised he’d probably given himself away.
Forty-eight Hours:moth2fic

He and Bodie had been working together over a month, the first time they skirted round the issue. A junior minister's house had been firebombed in the middle of the night -- minor damage only, but still plenty to interest CI5. And the only other person present was a friend -- a male friend -- who had just happened to be staying over. Add to that the spare bedroom sheets unconvincingly rumpled, and the minister himself very anxious that his overnight visitor be left out of the official report, and you didn't need Doyle's instincts to know why.
"Not easy, living that life," Doyle said ...
He could have meant 'working in the Northern Ireland office', or Bodie could have pretended that was what he'd meant. But Bodie didn't do that...
"No, it isn't," he said quietly.
They dropped the subject then, like the hot potato it was...
Complicity:Garonne

A selkie. A seal-man, not even human. Shedding his skin to take on human form -- mother of mercy, the pelt in the cabin -- and watching him from the water, wanting to meet him, wanting... Dear, sweet God... A selkie.
Eventually he had to move, as his legs began to cramp and he regained some measure of calmness. He had done no sin, he told himself. Only spoken with Bodie, shared his food, and even Jesus had eaten with sinners and unChristians. There was nothing to fear. He would stay closer to the shore in future, and Bodie would not come again. He crossed himself as he stood up, and as he turned... he saw Bodie stand up from the surf.
He cried out in startlement. Bodie was wading toward the shore, his black fur draped casually across his shoulders, a smile on his face that wavered when Raymond backed away...
Sule Skerrie:Shoshanna

Cowley had already known from his file that Bodie was a long distance expert. He knew that Bodie had gained his experience during his mercenary years. He didn’t know how many men Bodie had killed but he recognised the desensitised way he handled his weapon. He didn’t flinch, looked neither concerned nor blasé, nervous or excited. It was a piece of equipment he evidently respected and he handled it accordingly and with the ease of familiarity.
Tindle was the only other man that came close to Bodie in precision and surprisingly it was Ray Doyle after him. A rifle was not a coppers usual weapon but Doyle had an eye for accuracy. Doyle, however, openly outshone everyone with the handgun. Legs braced apart, knees slightly bent, arms straight, both fists around the gun, he was fast and deadly, every bullet hitting where he intended. Cowley was unsurprised at his skill, Morrison had mentioned it in the initial reports, but he was nevertheless in awe of the sheer ability of Doyle with a 9mm Browning semi auto pistol. Privately of course. The only man that came anywhere near Doyle in ability was Bodie. Bodie who was familiar with just about every weapon currently on and off the market, black or legitimate. But he didn’t quite match Doyle...
Doyle & Bodie - Beginnings:Jaicen5

Doyle surveyed the strong figure before him; the broad shoulders and chest, the well- defined muscles in arms and legs, the handsome, even features, and felt the force of the other's personality reach out and enfold him as it had done ever since the first time they had met. It was impossible to imagine Bodie being an ordinary anything, and Doyle said so, forcibly. Bodie blinked and looked up, startled. Their eyes met and held for a long moment. Something passed between them - Doyle was not sure what, but whatever it was he found himself unable to look away...
The Ghost and Raymond Doyle: Barbara Thomas:Unprofessional Conduct 5, Gryphon Press.

He stepped in silently and pushed the door shut behind him with a click. He set the lock to avoid an angry phone call from Control, then padded down the hallway. He stopped in the doorway of the lounge with his head cocked to one side, taking in the scene before him.
He jumped a little as Marikka’s voice floated around the flat.
“What’s the matter with you? Don’t you trust Bodie?”
Bodie was sat on the edge of his settee, leaning forward as he stared at the tape player. He reached forward to stop the tape, then pressed rewind, and play.
“What’s the matter with you? Don’t you trust Bodie?”
At exactly the same moment as before, he once again stopped and re-wound the tape, and pressed play again.
“What’s the matter with you? Don’t you trust Bodie?”
Doyle winced...
Fall Boy:ILWB

Bodie loved women, he reminded himself – undemanding company, good food, warm sex.
But Doyle? Did he want Doyle? Like that?
He loved the miserable little git, without doubt and without thought. Not sure when it’d started, and god knew, they’d half-heartedly tried to kill each other once or twice to begin with, before a grudging respect set in, followed by trust… and now Doyle was simply a part of him, skin-deep, bone-deep. Beautiful, tough as old shit, violent, bright, funny, unpredictable, ugly, mean… a thousand words and none of them quite explained what he felt about Doyle... Doyle who matched him, stretched him, challenged him as no-one else ever had. With Doyle he was never bored, constantly off-balance… he’d had never felt more certain or safe with anyone before.
But… Doyle and Paul, woven together, naked, kissing, soft laughter; Jazz lying there too, watching them the same way he’d watched Doyle and that bird… except Jazz wasn’t some bird, some casual pick-up. She’d known Doyle, long before anyone else. She knew so much of him, shared those looks… ‘She predates you,’ Cowley’s voice intoned again.
Shit, fuck, and bugger. His Maggie May:Snailbones

Doyle studied the solid design of him: the powerfully developed neck; sculpted shoulders, upper arms, and forearms; blunt-fingered hands; broad, smoothly defined chest ... tapering into comparatively narrow hips; flat abdomen; and corded thighs that bunched as he shifted weight--both front and back athletically proportioned--and calves that curved like hewn stone into surprisingly small feet. A fillip of heat curled inside Doyle's belly, a purely animalistic response to an extremely attractive male.
Harlequin Airs: Ellis Ward

"It'll be all right. *We'll* be all right. Trust me. Trust us."
Cowley shook his head and let out his own sigh that was tinged with clear exasperation. "I know you'll be fine. Still, it's a huge step, even in this day and age. It's not that I don't trust you, 4.5-"
"Doyle. Or Ray. I'm not 4.5, and haven't been for a good while now. And besides, after all this time, I thought we were friends." Doyle paused before he asked, "We are friends, aren't we?"
"Of course we're friends! You needn't ask."
"I'll do my best to make this work. I swear. I'll never let you down," Doyle said firmly.
"As I was saying, Doyle, I trust you. It's this world we live in that I fear will harm you. But you're a grown man and you've made your decision. And I pray with all my soul that it will go well for many years to come..."
What Lies Within:LilyK

“Is anything going to come of this date? Is he gorgeous? Have you had sex yet?”
“No and yes and no.”
“What, just because you got interrupted?”
“No. Just because. I don’t think he’s really my type to be honest. And I’m not sure I’m his either.”
He knew Bodie hadn’t been saying no, and yet somehow it felt as if he had.
“Oh Ray.” His sister was cross with him. “Why can’t you give anyone a proper chance? Let it go, forget all those arseholes. So they fucked up your career, but they were bloody wrong about you, weren’t they? And the right people know that. You can’t do anything about all the others and you can’t let what happened here stay with you forever. Or, you’ll be alone forever.”
“Don’t speech me,” Doyle said. “I’m fine. This is nothing to do with that.”
Of course, he knew, deep down, that almost everything in his life right now was to do with that. With being under suspicion, opting to take the high ground and give it all up, with having to leave when he hadn’t done anything – not one single official thing – wrong.
Sis was right though. Of course she was. If he let anger and betrayal run his life he was going to end up what he dreaded. Alone, single, a man unbalanced, lopped off at the roots... So This Is Us:JoJo

He was dishevelled, unshaved... He was still beautiful, in a sickly way, but his cool, good-humoured poise was nowhere to be seen; he looked frantic and exhausted at the same time.
Bodie's eyes restlessly surveyed the room. "You're alone?" he finally asked...
"...What happened to you?"
...He sat beside the silent, despondent man, urgently asking him what exactly was wrong. When Bodie failed to answer, Doyle took hold of his shoulders and shook him slightly. "Bodie. I can see you're sick, and you're needing rest. But first you have to tell me what happened. Can I help? Come on, mate, speak up!"
At long last, Bodie lifted his eyes to meet Doyle's. "There's... nothing you can do...I did nothing. There's nothing you can do... I swear it, Ray. Oh, god, my head hurts... I can't think properly..."
The Shadow Of A Lonely Man:Airelle

Doyle pulled the sleepy head cradled in the crook of his arm closer and planted a kiss amongst the dishevelled ... ringlets.
''Mmmm, what time is it?''
''Time I was leaving love, Bodie'll be at my place in another half hour, probably best if I'm there to meet him.''
''Invite him down, I could do wicked things to that partner of yours.''
''Don't give him ideas.''
''Will you be back tonight?''
''You know the job, worse than the force. I will if I can..."
''Don't bother on my account lover.''
''More worried about the neighbours'' replied Doyle, pulling on his jeans and grabbing his shirt and shoulder holster.
''They're very broad minded round here...''
All Thy Tears:Fiorenza_a

..it had hurt, so bloody much, betrayal lancing through him.
He should have known it had been too good to last; nothing ever did. But he could think of nothing that had mattered this much to him.
So what could he do about holding it together?
Doyle was Doyle, and if he needed variety, needed more than Bodie could give him, Bodie knew he had two choices - to accept Doyle's need for variety, and to roam with him as they had done in the past, or to pack it in and pretend this had never been intended as more than a few nights' experimentation with a good mate.
Some choice, Bodie admitted, grim-faced, his anger overtaken by the depressing knowledge that it wouldn't - couldn't - work like that, not in the long run. It was the first time he had ever thought of a relationship in anything but terms of days and weeks, but he accepted that he couldn't imagine a life where Doyle wasn't an integral part of his existence. Black Sheep: hgdoghouse

shooting2kill — Wed, 21 Jun 2017 19:00:17 GMT
Visions of Bodie and Doyle: 'Hey baby, I'm your telephone man...'
More variations on a theme.
(Inspired by an old favourite:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MahswYBewb0)

He swallowed hard, picked the receiver up, and held it to his ear. The number? Oh, God, it had been a year and a half. He’d thrown it away. And it wasn’t listed. Bodie had said.
No. Don’t panic. He closed his eyes. Picture his flat. Picture the ‘phone in the living room. And the card in the centre of the dial. Read it. And he could.
The ‘phone was ringing. Still ringing.
“Ooah.” A cough. “Three seven.”
Doyle’s knees buckled.
“Hello.” Another cough. “Who is this?”
The receiver clattered back onto the hook.
Nothing in his hard-working imagination had prepared him for the effect of hearing Bodie’s voice. Not a memory. Not a dream. Now.
He wanted it again. Now. The river could wait.
He picked up the ‘phone again...
“Look, who is this? What do you want?”
“Bo...die?” Heat Trace:Helen Raven

The phone box almost smacked him in the nose. One moment it had been all the way down at the other end of the street, and the next it had dashed forward and planted itself right under his feet. Bloody thing.
Deeply suspicious, Bodie checked the interior before stepping inside. He wasn't enamoured of trapping himself in a box, but there weren't many other options if he wanted to use the phone.
It turned out to be a more difficult than he'd anticipated. He dropped half his change on the ground, trying to fish it out of his pocket. The numbers on the dial were playing silly buggers, swapping places with each other. Four and five in particular appeared determined not to accept the dictatorship of the Roman numeral system.
"H'lo?"
Bodie almost dropped the phone. He'd been expecting to hear the mechanical click and whirr of HQ's switchboard.
"If you're another sad bastard who gets his jollies breathing heavily into phones..."
A Widening Gyre:Rebelcat

Murphy sat quiet as a priest, listening to Bodie’s confession, waiting until the spate had abated. They’d been through this before, he and Bodie, had suffered through the maze of emotions, hammering at it time and again until they had found the only two paths out..
"D’you know, when it all went wrong yesterday, the first thing I thought was what a rotten fucking shame it was that I had to let the Wombat go? That was it, Murphy. Didn’t care about the wife and kids inside — not at first. Didn’t care about all the innocent by-standers. Wasn’t until those pricks lobbed that bloody grenade at us that I even started to think about it again...”
Murphy waited tensely, knowing that this was the moment of truth. Something was coming, as obvious as clouds harbouring rain. So he waited, looking like his usual placid, phlegmatic self, while his heart raced and the breath caught in the back of his throat and the blood pounded in his ears.
“I tried to fuck Ray last night.”
Murphy's Law: LA Scotian

He picked up the phone.
"Doyle."
"Ray, it's me."
Ray's face softened, his eyes warming...
"Bodie. Hello, mate. I'm in conference; just about have the security worked out for the concert. Think it was the bloody PM, not some pimply faced rock star. Remind me not to take any more projects like this one. I mean the money's good, but Christ..."
"Ray..." Bodie interrupted and Ray could hear the strain in his partner's voice.
"Bodie? What is it?" He could hear Bodie pause. Inhale. Exhale. Silence. Then there was breath again.
"Cowley's gone and offed himself."
Sunshine After Rain:Elspeth Leigh

“Hello.”
“Mr Bodie?” asked a man's voice.
“Yes?”
“I thought I'd do you a favour,” the voice continued. “Save you any more embarrassment and warn you about your new friend Ray...”
The hairs prickled on the back of Bodie’s neck. “Who is this?” he demanded.
“He gets bored easily, you see, and likes to play games. Take today, when you rang him at lunchtime? You interrupted us. So all the while he was talking to you and arranging to meet, he was looking at me, smiling at me. It adds to his pleasure, provides a little extra frisson and I don’t mind indulging him, every now and then...”
As the man on the phone proceeded to tell Bodie what he had been doing to Doyle while he arranged their meeting for tonight, an instinct was urging Bodie to hang up. But a more perverse part of him was unable to do anything but listen, as the man described how they spent the afternoon in bed... An Island Affair:Angelci5

In the December darkness of Doyle's flat, a telephone began to ring. His mind on the past, Doyle heard it only as a nuisance, nothing that concerned him. Nor did he notice that the flat was cold, because he hadn't bothered to turn on the heat... He didn't care.
A telephone was ringing.... Maybe it was Cowley, with another one of CI5's endless emergencies.
Maybe the memorial service was tonight, and they wanted to ask why he hadn't turned up... He had raged, alone in the dark. He had wept. He had punched the wall and screamed. He had curled up in a ball, and tried to stop the memories.
None of it cured the lump in his throat that did not go away. Nothing reached the searing pain of being alone, without Bodie… He had sought oblivion in sleep, but it did no good. It offered relief at first, but it led to nightmares. Images of water, of imprisonment in water, of drowning in a metal cage as Bodie must have drowned, alone in the dark.
And now it was he who was alone in the dark.
Silent Star:Fajrdrako (Elizabeth Holden)

Aware that his next priority must be to establish a concrete background for himself if he wished to join the British army, Bodie decided he had earned a few days' rest. He was in no doubt who he wanted to spend them with.
It was only when he picked up the telephone, disconcerted to find his palm damp and his hand unsteady with nerves, that he realised he didn't know how to contact Ray...
His sense of loss so acute it was almost a physical pain, Bodie stared blankly at the telephone... mentally castigating himself for being stupid enough to imagine a male hooker could mean anything but a good fuck.
Five hours you knew him. No one can fall in love with a perfect stranger in five hours. He's a whore. One in a long line you were, mate...
Rainbow Chasers:hgdoghouse

"Yes?" a curt voice growled.
"It's me."
"Doyle? You're late!"
"I know. Couldn't get away; I was following Moore. He led me halfway round the city before he came here. I'm at the Gunslinger, down by the docks... This is where the drop will be, I'm sure of it.... Have you found out anything about that other matter?"
"Which matter? Oh, the man you asked about. We've found one Bodie in London that matches your description. He's SAS."
"What?" Doyle's jaw dropped. "Why the hell is he hanging out with Derek, then? Christ, SAS aren't investigating this lot too, are they?"
"I should hope not! It's hardly in their jurisdiction. No, I think you should be careful of this Bodie fellow. He has a shady past. Used to be a mercenary and a gun-runner. He could well be doing some smuggling on the side. Watch out for him..." Learning Trust: Russ

Doyle caught Bodie's elbow outside Cowley's office. "Okay, who's the bird, and when's she due?"
Bodie shook him off. "Don't know what you're talking about."
"The one on the phone. Last night, and this morning!"
"Nothing important. Told her not to call again..."
Doyle was having none of it... "Do I know her?"
"No."
He was smashing himself futilely against the impenetrable rock cliffs that were Bodie.
"Then, who died?"
Astonishingly, a portion of the rock face crumbled.
"My father." Brethren of the Coast:Rebelcat

"Sir?" he said into the phone...
"Aye, about time."
Bodie rolled his eyes. He'd answered on the second ring. "Sir."
"You're both on a week's leave."
"A week?" He watched Doyle smile beside him, staying quiet for the mouthpiece, barely breathing, containing an immediate joy.
"You'll report in this time next week – and I do mean seven a.m."
"Yes sir! .... A week – surely time enough to sort this out, to show him.
"Oh and Bodie, there will be someone into the flats to remove the surveillance devices." The call ended with a clack and a buzz, and Bodie hung up slowly.
Surveillance devices ...
The High-Up Singing and Alive Fruit:Slantedlight

"The Major a soft touch then? Letting you use his phone. Bet you're his blue-eyed boy, him being a friend of the old man and all," he said with deliberate, happy provocation.
"Naughty Doyle," came Bodie's low sexy voice, reacting to it. "Nothing like that. The Major's a good and flexible man. He understands that I have to check in every day."
"What are the women like?"
There was another pause. Bodie's voice said: "You remember Sue Jones."
"How could I forget," said Doyle, with verve.
"-- thick blonde hair, big blue eyes, long legs ...?"
"Mmm...." Doyle approved, passionately.
"The women here are along the same lines --"
Doyle grinned, knowing his Bodie, and waited for it.
"... they have big blue lips, thick legs and short blonde moustaches," finished Bodie's grim filtered voice.
That was so -- Bodie. "Charming," said Doyle, through a chuckle.
This was fun. Adagio:Sebastian

Bodie was delightful to look at. His teeth weren’t perfect, but his smile was boyish and infectious. He tended to pout, which was an endless source of amusement — and teasing — for Doyle. His eyes were a striking shade of dark blue, thickly lashed, and wonderfully expressive. They could be chilling, sarcastic; they could show gut-wrenching anger and frustration, they could sparkle with humour, or shine with warmth and affection. As the months of their acquaintance went by, and developed into friendship, Doyle saw that look of warmth more often, and what was more, it was directed at him. They bickered and sniped at each other just as much, but when Doyle thought of Bodie — fellow recruit, colleague, friend — it was the warmth he remembered.
Measuring Scars:Maddalia (Proslib CD)

The pills settled like a prickly lump. Oh. What had he done? Bodie. That laughing face, by his grave—not laughing now. How would he ever forgive Doyle?
Selfish. He was the most selfish person who’d ever lived. Hadn’t even left a proper note. He’d gone through five, all now in the bin. He grabbed for the phone—twice—and dialled clumsily, the number he knew by heart. He could feel himself going, but he had to, this was the most important thing he’d ever done.
What if he wasn’t there? Bodie.
“Bodie.”
“What? Hullo?”
“I’m sorry, Bodie. I’m sorry.”
One Phone Call:Allie

Doyle's eyes were an indeterminate green. They went to grey-gold in certain lights, in the grip of certain emotions. His inner conflicts played themselves out there for anyone to see who had the knack of reading them. All these years partners, eight months lovers, and Bodie could only guess at what was colouring those eyes now.
What did he know of his partner, really, after all this time? Only what he could see, and he sometimes feared that, like everyone else, he saw only what Doyle elected to show him. Stingy with his details, Doyle was. Bodie knew little of his life before CI5--a word here, a word there, a few stories from his days with the Met.... What he didn't say ought to be as revealing as what he did--would be, with most men. Not this one. Bodie'd spilled his guts, mostly, but Doyle had never been similarly forthcoming. His partner had been raised by wolves, for all he could say different.
The conceit pleased him, and he played with it in his head. Doyle as lone wolf... The Met, CI5: by nature, he was as much a pack animal as Bodie - more, maybe. But Doyle was less domesticated than he'd claim to be; his partner was housebroken but by no means tame, and far too prone to biting to be safely fed from the hand. Like the wolf on the fold...Doyle, his wolf in idealist's clothing. Werewolves of London:Rimy

He picked up the receiver with a brisk but quiet “hello”. There was a moment of eerie hissing static then a dense silence before a voice echoed from the receiver.
“Will? William Bodie?”
Bodie’s breath caught in his throat. The voice was almost indistinct, crackling over the line as if from a great distance in time and space. But he would know it anywhere and what it could mean.
“Thought you’d probably died long ago,” he said, his own voice cracking slightly, although whether from lack of use or his screaming nerves he couldn’t be sure.
“I’m not good enough to die young, you know that.” There was a pause before the voice came again. “It’s good to hear you, Will. It’s been a long time...."
"I’ve found him, Will,” the voice continued.”
A Mercenary's Tale:Fictionwriter

Ray made for the still-ringing phone himself. Given that Bodie had only just moved in, the call was most likely work, which might be very important. There would not have been time, even by Bodie’s standards, to give the number out to any girls in bars. Or to, Ray supposed, well, to... anyone not a girl who might be in a bar.
He didn’t think Bodie gave out details to anyone else.
He walked into the bedroom and picked up the receiver, barking in a brisk “Hello?” and waiting for the caller to identify themselves, his mind still more than half in another place.
“Hello,” a male voice answered – a posh, businesslike tone. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings, Mr Bodie...”
“I’m not...” Ray began, but not quickly enough, his reactions slowed as his mind tried to focus.
“I’m one of the doctors at the James Cook Hospital in Teeside” the man continued, steam-rollering over the objection, “where I’m sorry to say your wife has just died.”
This Week It Rained:halotolerant

"please, tell him Anne-Marie called. The number is—"
"Hold on, hold on, I need something to write on." Bodie knew he sounded truculent but didn't care. He yanked out one drawer and found nothing but household odds and ends. The drawer below it yielded a biro and a folded sheet of paper that he grabbed and laid on the counter.
"Yeah, go on, give us the number, love." He wrote it down and ended the call, belatedly realising he might have written the number on something important. He put the biro down, picked up the paper and unfolded it.
It took a moment for his brain to make sense of what his eyes were telling him. When comprehension finally kicked in, he leaned against the wall near the phone, legs suddenly too shaky to hold him up by themselves. In a mind-numbing flash, his worst fears were realised.
What he held between trembling fingers was Ray's letter of resignation from CI5. It was concise, undated and made no mention of his partner... Mended Hearts: Veronica

Bodie sat hunched over by the radio, images and words tumbling over and over in his head, reliving memory after memory… it was unthinkable that he could walk away from a mission without Doyle beside him, laughing and joking, or quiet and retrospective… Brothers forged by the heat of the fire, living or dying side-by-side...
Without thinking, Bodie slammed his fist into the table, making the radio jump as though frightened. If this had been any other hostage situation he would know what to do; try to talk the kidnapper down, stall for time, plan a counter-attack. But somehow his brain wouldn’t let him focus on anything else than the knowledge that it was Doyle in there, that it was his partner’s life that hung in the balance... they were haggling over his friend’s life like he was so much meat to be argued over... he realised with a jolt that it was almost an hour since he’d discovered that Doyle was the hostage. It felt more like a lifetime.
Negotiations in a Graveyard:YnitOcelot

shooting2kill — Mon, 01 May 2017 14:35:52 GMT
Visions of Bodie and Doyle: the not-in-love, love story.

While Doyle was intent on a bike magazine, Bodie was just as intent - on him. The bigger, darker man sat at the same table his hands cradling a cup, his expression brooding, his blue eyes fixed on his partner. Devouring him, Murphy thought, hiding a grin. Gobbling Ray down, feature by feature. But there was an expression on Bodie's finely sculptured face that was not lustful in the slightest.
Sad? Murphy wondered. Or resentful? It was hard to tell with Bodie; he hid everything with almost as much skill as Ray. Ray would disguise what he was feeling - hurt would be hidden behind anger, grief behind grumbling, childlike enthusiasm behind cynicism. No, Bodie attacked the problem in a different way; he pulled his expression straight, like a mask, and kept it that way... People who did not know him were irritated by it; those who did were worried. It meant he was hiding something, and one day soon there would be an explosion of unleashed anger.
So he was jealous and resentful, Murphy concluded; not surprising. No one would lose a lover like Ray Doyle without a pang of envy and a thrill of fury...So Bodie was smouldering about his loss. As yet he had not made his move, but from the look on 3.7's face, Murphy had the strongest impression that he would, before long...
Coming Home:Kathy Keegan

An aching gnawed at Bodie; he longed to reach out to Ray, to wipe away all the pain that was consuming him... What if this whole ordeal sends him away from me? What if he withdraws? Please don't leave me, Ray, he thought. Please don't go away without me... No, he won't leave me, Bodie thought, calmed. He won't leave me because we belong together. I know this, I just know this...
Bodie had felt, more than seen, the changes, as Doyle pushed Gillian to open up and let him into her life. It was something he recognized from his own past with Ray, the slow wearing down of the walls and screens he hid himself with. This mature openness, this strength of love that had grown in Doyle the past few years had, of course, only served to draw Bodie further and further into love with Ray. Always the silent watcher, wondering if he would ever grow enough to be worthy of Ray's love.
Aftermath:Gwyneth Rhys

There was something different about this morning. It reminded him of that poster, the one about today being the first day of the rest of your life. If he wanted it, this could be home. This could be the kitchen he cooked breakfast in for the rest of his life. It was an unsettling thought. He looked around. It was large and modern, and it wouldn't take much at all for him to think of it as his. His kitchen, his house.
His Bodie?
Was the price too high? Bodie had said that he was willing to take as much as Doyle could offer, that if friendship was all that there would be, he could be content. Was it so? Could he have a home, and Bodie, without having to ... put out?
A Different Game:DVS

Bodie swallowed, finding it suddenly difficult to breathe, to think, to do anything but feel like a donation to science, spread out, cut open, completely exposed.
“You love me, don’t you?”
Eviscerated. The heart cut out from him and presented on a bloody silver platter. Bodie couldn’t look at Ray—couldn’t not look, knew he’d given himself away by the extremes of his reaction.
More intent than ever, Doyle leaned forward...stare fixed on Bodie.
“You love me. And not just all-mates-together either, is it, Bodie?”
Bodie looked then, transfixed, body caught in fight-or-flight. Wanting to kill Doyle for saying it, because if no-one ever said it, then it might not be true. If no-one ever said it, then it could be ignored, called something else, lied about. He could strangle Doyle for speaking the unspeakable, or he could simply run away and never stop running. Fight, or flight.
If I Fell:Edi N.Burgh (M Fae Glasgow)

This whole situation was getting out of hand, fast. He could deal with kissing the man in pubs and trying to attract the wrong kind of attention, but to actually spend real time with Doyle, to get to know him, could prove distinctly dangerous. But his instinct told him Doyle was right in this approach to the case. This was the way to find the person doing the killings.
Unfortunately, Doyle was too close to someone he could fall for, someone who could really mean something to him. Those cat-like eyes, murky green and tilted a little off balance did things to his equilibrium... Get a grip, he told himself.
But Doyle was a feast for the senses. Delicious did not even begin to describe him. Bodie knew that given half a chance he could make a meal of that lush body for days. And that mouth...
The attraction by itself was bad enough, but he sensed Doyle's awakening response to him and he feared that most of all. Doyle would want to explore it. Bodie knew it. Could tell from Doyle's tenacious nature that he'd want to make love. Not just have sex, not just get each other off, but make love. And Bodie could not do that. If he were to touch Doyle like that there would be no hope of him surviving this operation with his heart intact. The Path Not Taken:Meridian

“...I wanna tell you something. When I think about it—you want to know something, Bodie? No-one’s ever loved me. What do I do wrong?” Steeped in his own misery, a parade of people who had failed to love him stretching back as far as his mother and sisters, he took a while to realise that Bodie had left him. He opened his eyes to see Bodie standing.. back turned to Doyle..
“Bodie—?”
Bodie said without turning: “You’re a selfish bloody bastard at times, aren’t you?”
“What?” Doyle said. His eyes and his nose and his throat were blocked with tears. He dragged his sleeve over his eyes and sniffed.
“Look, I’ve got feelings too, you know. Though sometimes I wondered if you ever knew that…”
“What are you on about?” The change of pace had left him utterly confused.
“Obviously I wasn’t in her class. But didn’t I count?”
“Count what?” He felt dizzy now, befuddled...
"Didn’t I count at all? I loved you.”
Doyle’s heart began to pound unexpectedly, turning over sickly in his chest...
“I never knew..” Wonderful Tonight:Sebastian

"I need you, Bodie."
Bodie nodded, sneering. "Well, I want you, Doyle, there's the difference. That's what all your theories and understanding have failed to make clear to you."
"Shut up, you bastard, and listen to me!" Doyle interrupted. "I--"
"And I'm not going to bloody well make love to a martyr so just you shut the fuck up!"
"Love?"
Bodie clamped his mouth shut, cursing himself.
...he looked like hell, Bodie noticed abstractedly, and he looked magnificent. Wore exhaustion and pain well, did Doyle.
"Complex thing, love," Doyle commented. "Reckoned that was at the root of it. Never thought you'd say it, though."
"No," Bodie denied hotly, desperately. "For Christ's sake, how can you think that love had anything to do with what--with what I did to you?"
Adrenaline:PFL

The images which sometimes slipped from the box he had later built in his brain were full of Doyle, always Doyle. He found it hard to remember these images, but sometimes, late at night or very early in the morning--when his attention shuddered and his mind wandered--they would come, unbidden.
Of Doyle, shifting himself suddenly to lie on top of Bodie; of his hard, bony hips pressing down into his belly; of grabbing endless handfuls of curls and holding on; of the feel of his tongue crashing against another; of trouser buttons being ripped open and wonderfully quick hands wrapping confidently round him; of the smell of victory and shame mingling with his aftershave; of forest-green eyes cautiously watching him from underneath a sweaty, mussed fringe; of running, running and not stopping.
But Bodie always swallowed these images down again, and wilfully refused to think about anything at all.
Nothing had happened.
Nothing.
That sick, scared feeling filling his chest was absolutely nothing at all.
Getting to Like You:Ailcia

The sky was a deep, navy blue. Somewhere nearby a bird called, sleepy and homey-sounding. Bodie regarded the countryside with a satisfied air.
“Bodie,” said Doyle, sounding almost agonised.
“What, mate?” Bodie turned immediately to his friend. “What’s the matter?”
“Are you happy? I’m making you miss so much work, and—”
“Happy? ‘Course I’m happy. You didn’t make me miss anything.” He walked backwards in front of the frowning, worried-looking Doyle.
Who didn’t look convinced.
How could he tell Doyle what he meant exactly, without sounding soppy or too cheerful or false? “I’m glad to be here with you. It’s a nice holiday. Look around you...”
Doyle’s mouth twitched up on one side in a grimace. He still looked worried. “Playing babysitter, you mean.”
“Hey, mate, I volunteered..."
Remembering Bodie:hutchynstarsk

“Aw, shut up. Have to get the last word in, don’t you?”
This time, Doyle didn’t say anything at all.
And he didn’t so much as glance in Bodie’s direction once the rest of the trip.
The slap and the ugly words hung in the air between them, and Bodie wondered if he’d ever be brave enough to say how sorry he was. And if he wasn’t, whether time would heal these wounds, these confusing wounds between the two of them.
He wanted to reach out and touch again, to say with his fingers that he hadn’t meant it, to stroke the soft, sensual curls, this time lovingly. But he knew anything he did now would be interpreted as insult, would probably get him the blow he so rightfully deserved after that...
And his partner drove fast and competent, while so very, very silent and untouchable.
Untouchable:AnxiousAlien

Damned if he was gonna let Doyle keep throwing this in his face. He'd done what Doyle asked, what he'd made Bodie promise. He'd toed the line Doyle had drawn. Hadn't said anything, hadn't done anything, hadn't touched him so much as to even pass a cup of tea, even though it killed him, even if every day he felt like these feelings inside him would choke him. "Say it, Doyle. I'm the one who—?"
Doyle whirled around. "Who changed the rules in the middle of the fucking game, that's what! One minute I can't keep track of all the birds you're stringing along and the next minute you're telling me—" He faltered. "You're telling me—"
Bodie's laugh was grim. "You can't even say it, can you? What are you afraid of?" He took a step closer. "That it's contagious? Afraid you might catch something if you keep hanging about with me?"
"Shut up, Bodie." Doyle tensed but stood his ground.
"Right. All rny fault, is it?"
"I didn't say—"
"No, no, you're right, Doyle." The anger felt good after weeks of stuffing it down, hot and bright and heady. "Not your fault. You're not interested, mate. Made that all perfectly clear, you did. 'Not a fucking pervert,' you said. I did get that right, didn't I? Ray Doyle's not a fucking queer."
And it felt good to throw the words back at him. The Rules of Engagement:Aerye

I’ll be there,” he said breezily, waving as he pulled away from the kerb, shouting, “see you, mate!” over the crunch of the tyres.
Oh, yeh, he wasn’t queer, stupid of him to even think it for a minute. Never been queer before, wasn’t likely to start just because he had a partner who reacted to danger the same way he did, now was he?
So why did it stick in his mind, why did it make him rougher with Inge than he had to be, that memory of Ray Doyle, his partner, the man who had almost died for him, the man who kissed him, left standing there on the pavement, alone?
Back Alley:L.A.Scotian (M Fae Glasgow)

"Ah, c'mon, now, Bodie," he said impatiently. "Don't make such heavy weather of it."
"You said --"
Like a marriage, Doyle had said.
"Yeah, I know what I said. I'm plannin' on sticking to it. But I didn't mean we had to deprive ourselves of female company for the rest of our lives."
"Didn't you," Bodie said at last...
"Look, Bodie. Fuckin' them -- do you think that would mean anything? They want us to take 'em home, pass an hour or so in bed, and all I'm tryin' to say is that we've got a choice. Whether we do or not, them or anyone else, it won't make any difference to us. To you an' me...I'm just trying to give us more -- freedom," he said, and the moment he'd said it he knew what he'd done...
"You want freedom, sweetheart," he said savagely, "it's yours."
Catharsis:Sebastian

"I didn't hear any complaints. Had yourself a good time, didn't you?"
"Yeh. It's just..."
Doyle sighed. Time to put things back on an even keel. "You're not gay, Bodie. You're going to go home today, track down that redhead of yours, and fuck her senseless. And tomorrow you'll do it again."
"Because I'm not gay," said Bodie, visibly cheered.
"Right," said Doyle, ignoring the irrational twinge of disappointment in his stomach.
However, his dissatisfaction was short-lived, because Bodie once more proved that the universe is made up of unshakeable constants by saying the most unexpected thing possible at that moment.
"And so long as we're both clear on that," said Bodie. "We can do this again, sometime, right?"
The Natural Order of Things:Rebelcat

"You know..." Rebecca said, twining her arm through Doyle's, "one of these days you might consider telling him how you feel about him."
Doyle tore his attention off the trio now making their way to the refreshments and looked down at his sister. "What?"
Rebecca rolled her eyes, then leaned in closer. "Oh, stop pretending to be daft. I'm talking about Bodie and your feelings for him. And when you might possibly ever decide to tell him how you feel."
"He's my best mate, Becs. He already knows."
"That's not what I mean, and you know it. Ray..." Rebecca lowered her voice. "Have you considered just telling him you're in love with him?"
A blind-sided punch couldn't have caught him more unaware. "Becs... I... I'm not-"
"Hey, it's me remember?...I may be your baby sister, but I do have eyes. And I probably know you better than anyone else. I see the way you look at Bodie when he's unaware... with this raw longing on your face..."
Something More:Ankaree

Doyle moved forward to kiss him, but Bodie held him off with one hand.
“No,” he said. “You don’t have to now.”
Doyle shrugged. “I was hoping to see you tonight.....”
“You don’t need to do it, now,” said Bodie.
“Suppose I want to?”
“Why do you want a man you hate?”
“Don’t hate you. Not now.”
“Do you love me?”
Doyle couldn’t answer.
“I don’t want your tolerance,” said Bodie. “Come back when you love me. I’m tired of half measures.”
Doyle looked at him sharply, shock. “Bloody hell - you’re cutting me off!”
“...We aren’t lovers, Doyle. We’re colleagues now."
Rule Brittania:Fajrdrako (Elizabeth Holden)

Doyle tried to josh Bodie into a better mood.
“Well that’s another man lost to all female society.”
Doyle had been dating a pretty blonde now for several months. Even Cowley had had her checked out. The signs were good.
“Come on, Bodie. Don’t be so glum. There’s someone out there just waiting to make an honest man out of you.”
Bodie finally turned to his partner. “There is,” he murmured enigmatically. Doyle looked surprised…
There was a strained silence.
“All right Bodie, you’ve got me. Who is she – what I don’t know about?”
“For a copper, you rate low in observation, Doyle.”
Blind Love:Sylvie Orp

"Bodie, we should talk about this."
"I'm sorry, Ray..."
"Yeah, I know," said Doyle, voice cracking as Bodie looked down at him, but he needed more. "But don't you think about us at all? Sometimes? Do you think about us sometimes?"
"No, Ray." Staring at the floor Bodie shook his head before lifting it to look at Doyle again. "I don't think about us sometimes. It's all the time. I think about us all the time..."
"Christ, Bodie, what the hell have we gotten ourselves into?"
Sometimes: Livia Collins

shooting2kill — Sun, 29 Jan 2017 20:53:05 GMT
Visions of Bodie and Doyle:down but not (quite) out

[Also posted to AO3]

The next step in the plan was to ditch the surveillance team....A lot of people on the pavement would help but these blokes were damned good. Passing by a shop selling televisions, Doyle came to an abrupt stop. Bodie had walked on a few paces until he realised that Doyle wasn't beside him. He retraced his steps. Doyle seemed mesmerised by whatever was on the half-dozen televisions on display. Bodie's stomach lurched and if he hadn't clamped his lips tightly together, he would have vomited on the spot.
On the multiple television screens were pictures of he and Doyle. Under there photos were their names and text running across the bottom of the screen. Bodie read: Dangerous Men! Killers! Followed by instructions to contact the proper authorities if the criminals were seen at large, along with what Bodie knew was the usual Commie rhetoric about duty to the state, more blah blah blah.
“We're in big trouble,” Doyle said.
Bodie shuddered. The idea of spending his life locked away in a prison cell behind the Iron Curtain was not a happy prospect, to say the least.
The idea of spending his life locked away from Doyle was even worse than thoughts of incarceration and torture.
“You don't bloody say,” Bodie muttered, snagging Doyle's sleeve and dragging him away. “We have to find some place to regroup...” I Will Follow You:LilyK

It feels like he’s been there days.
He’s certainly thirsty enough for it to have been days and very hungry.
Arms aching, head pounding, leaden cold draining the life from his limbs; Doyle knows that the situation is beyond his control and has been for a long time. He’s spent hours pulling on his restraints, hours trying to attract attention, hours silently calling for Bodie, hoping against hope that in a minute, a moment, Bodie is going to come bursting through that door with all his devils loose.
Bodie only ever lets his devils free for Doyle.
Bodie will be looking for him, he knows that...
Bodie would be coming.
He’s so thirsty. His throat hurts. He wants Bodie to be here. He wants Bodie to hug him close and tell him everything will be alright...
Captive:Agent_Talis

They’d blown themselves up, then, as well as Doyle. Fanatics. He looked down at the ground, struggling to control the useless rage. Funnel it. But there was no one to take vengeance on, no survivors to focus on. There wasn’t even an organization to take down. Moran had been a lone wolf terrorist, with a few hired thugs. There was nothing but ashes and death and the stopping of everything. The end. He tightened his jaw... Don’t move. Wait for it to pass. Don’t think. Breathe. For now. He looked up again, saw Cowley and Murphy dealing with the fire brigade and police. An ambulance crew passed close by him, ferrying Stuart to one of the ambulances. He almost wished he’d been injured, so he could sink into drugs—forget. But it would only delay, not help. He flashed onto a picture of Doyle glancing at him sideways, half smiling— He closed his eyes.
Rebirth:PFL

Having his hands tied behind his back made getting out of the van awkward, but Bodie managed and kept his footing. He was then shoved around the side of the vehicle.
"Known better, sir," he said in response to Cowley's question, but his eyes sought those of his partner. Ray was controlled, and to anyone watching, he appeared alert and ready for action. That much was true, but Bodie knew the suppressed anger that was also under that facade. Feeling responsible, he is. Ray'll be blaming himself for this, and he'll know this load around me neck is explosives...
"He had better be up to it," Cowley said.
"He'll be up to it!" Bodie, be ready, Ray silently commanded.
From his vantage point, Bodie studied the two; CI5's director and top agent. They had something planned, of that Bodie was sure. And he knew that all he had to do was be prepared to act when the time came.
In the next instant something by the plane exploded...
Requiem for a Fugitive:Lois Welling

...the trial went ahead. I had no idea that when I stood in the dock I was by that time suffering from clinical depression. I was in all probability, unfit for court but I found some of the revelations so fascinating that I probably appeared rather lucid. Someone had obviously done their homework on me. Every death that I had caused within my CI5 career was documented. Though none of these losses were admissible, they all served to show the jury what an out and out thug I was. By the end of the prosecution speeches I was ready to throw away the key myself...
My thoughts were in disarray, swimming between the trial, Bodie, Cowley’s heart attack, Bodie, what might await me in jail and of course, more Bodie. The judge’s words will always echo through my mind.
“Raymond Doyle you have been found guilty…”
‘So you shall hang till you are dead…’
The imagined phrase plagued my head but the truth was even more brutal. Somehow I had to find a way to survive if I possibly could... I was truly, absolutely and completely terrified.
My Time:Pale Rider (Boothros)

If holding out was impossible, they had limited options: run or get rescued. Since the cavalry wasn’t responding by R/T, running was the only choice left. Bodie’s eyes moved rapidly from the warehouse’s far doorway, where through the gloom he detected pale outlines of men entering stealthily, to up above, where through grimy skylights he saw two others sprinting and stopping on the exterior catwalk in jagged alternation, moving shadows marking their advance. They were getting damned close.
Hemmed in, with time running out, Bodie made a decision. “I’ll test the stairs. If I can get the door open, you follow...”
It wasn’t encouraging: no railings, cracked boards, and at least a twenty-foot drop to some sort of concrete floor he could make out between the multiple treads that were missing entirely. He’d have to chance going down, crossing those gaps, without the whole staircase collapsing—time was running out, for now he heard Doyle’s gun firing more rapidly behind him, joined by the barking report of Cowley’s snub-nosed shooter...
Creeping gingerly, Bodie kept off the centre of each step, hoping the strength of the wood remained strongest where it connected to the stair’s sides. Even so, each time he shifted his weight the wood creaked and shuddered horribly....Just when he was congratulating himself on reaching the other side and saving his balance, an ominous crack began...
Endlessly:FJBryan

"Who do you reckon's faster, you or me?" Doyle asked, trying to make the question seem casual, trying to hide the fact that it was death or life.
"Faster at what?..."
"At running, you berk." Doyle barked out in frustration.
"I suppose you are." Bodie looked at him suspiciously, suddenly paying close attention to his partner. "Why?"
"You're not gonna like it."
"What are you up to, Doyle?"
"If a bloke was fast enough, he could get across the warehouse to those crates over there, distract the uglies at the doors."
"Or said bloke could get shot."
"We stay here much longer, and we're both gonna get shot."
"Butch and Sundance, that's us." It was a last, very Bodie-like attempt at humour.
"I don't want to be Butch Cassidy..."
Live 'Til You Die:PR Zed

“It’s him!” The accusation, accompanied by a cold swirl of air and an abruptly slammed door, sliced sharply through the ribald banter that had marked the poker hand. “Duncan’s the plant – a bloody copper.”

The voice was Bodie’s, - or rather Williams’, Bodie’s undercover persona - as was the accusatory finger pointed straight at him. A myriad of thoughts raced through Doyle’s head, each more ludicrous than the last. His cover as Duncan was in tatters - that was clear as day. It was Bodie who’d grassed him...

'Betrayed', Doyle thought to himself bitterly. It was actually rather ironic. He was being placed in the Judas role, while it was Bodie – or rather- the trusted Williams – who was going to actually do the act. Or was he? Doyle looked over at his partner. The face turned toward him was expressionless; the eyes were cold; the lips set in a thin line. No comfort to be found there. Was Bodie going to betray Donnelly, or was it Doyle that was going to be hung out to dry?
Old Habits:merentha13

"Doesn’t sound like there’s anyone around."
"When have we ever been that lucky?"
"First time for—"
Bodie was cut off by the sound of gunfire in the distance, and was instantly alert...They could hear shouts and the sound of running feet, sporadic bursts of gunfire...
Bodie ... tensed, waiting for the sound of a key in the lock, the turn of the knob. He watched Doyle’s face as the door started to open...
"What the hell are you doing here?" Doyle asked, and Bodie caught his first glimpse of their rescuer.
Once in a Good long While:Lacey McBain

He moved quickly and silently to the house. He should call for back up but he didn’t want to take the time. It felt like time was running out for Bodie. He needed to get to him as fast as possible. He crept up to a window at the back of the house and heard voices.
“We need to get rid of ‘im”, the voice was low, but filled with anger.
“He’s CI5. You don’t just kill those guys...Doyle chanced a look through the window. There were four men in the room. Bodie was stretched out on the floor, a small puddle of blood near the cheek pressed against the carpet.
“Can’t just leave him. He’s seen our faces, heard our names.” The first voice again. Ray looked on in horror as the man raised his gun and pointed it at the back of Bodie’s head...
Words Finally Spoken:Merentha13

The creature snarled and whipped around, bounding through the too-small gap. The wood around it yielded depressingly easily. It landed lightly in front of the two agents, fur glowing with a crystalline blue light and its eyes coals from Hell itself…. It began to pad towards Bodie and Doyle. The stench of it hit them like a physical blow. Somewhere in the distance, Bodie could hear Jadis gleefully urging the beast on…
Their attackers were getting closer and closer. Bodie blinked the water out of his eyes, his gun still directed at the wolf-dog. He wasn’t going to die here... he wasn’t going to die here ...
he wasn’t going to let Doyle die here...
Here Be Monsters: Agent_Talis

Hearing the squeal of car tyres, Bodie ran across the smooth white curve of the gasholder to the railed gangway. From his vantage point, he could see the spy convention forming at the foot of the tower. Cowley was there with Willis, a pack of his MI6 men, and the two watchful East Germans; Kreiber and Schuman.
Cowley must have got Willis to call off the attack dogs snapping at his ankles. The old bastard was up to no good, but he was probably the only thing standing between Bodie and – what was it? – a grenade launcher.
Cowley shouted to him to come down, that he was cleared; his words just audible at this distance. Bodie gripped the rail, trying to discern the truth from his craggy features.
He demanded to see Marikka. She had betrayed him, but instinctively he feared for her. Doyle, our very own Mr License to Thrill, brought her...
It had started before he saw her, playing the glamour girl outside the Gloucester Hotel. He had known she was coming, from an article in Doyle’s film magazine, and the past came rushing back. He had shut down; he knew he had, though it was scarcely within his control. He had gone quiet and let Doyle make all that noise to compensate.
But where did it leave him? Hanging about on a gasholder like a fairy on top of a poorly defended Christmas tree... Firebird:Jackie Thomas

Doyle’s future suddenly narrowed to a tiny pinprick of light in the far distance. He was in a relationship with a selfish bully who also happened to be boss. He had no real money of his own, nowhere that he could call home apart from Hayter’s house and no true friends except Jamie. He had lost his ideals, his health and his self-respect. Suddenly the shutters fell from his eyes and he faced the true horror of what he had done. Walking away from his own life had been a monumental mistake. Bodie and Cowley had both tried to warn him but he had ignored them both, his dearest and most trusted allies, to strive for a love that he now knew he could never realise. He’d never seen what he was losing, or at the very least chosen not to look. He’d hadn’t really loved his job in CI5 but he’d been good at it and felt that he’d made some sort of difference. He’d not made a fortune but he’d been able to support himself. He’d never suffered fools gladly but now he was the biggest fool of all. He’d lost his sense of self, he’d lost his hopes and dreams and most painful of all, he’d lost Bodie...
Coming Home:Pale Rider (Boothross)

“What in all bloody hell are you doing?” Doyle asked, seething. The least Bodie could do was untie him first.
Breathing heavily, Bodie found a knife from the kitchen supplies and trotted across the room. “Saving your sorry hide.”
“Me?” Doyle roared, too irritated to care that he’d wake the sleeping beauties up. “I came here to get you out of a jam, and look what happened!”
“You ended up piggy-in-the-middle?” ...He sawed through the ropes binding Doyle’s all but numb hands. “Smartish, now, Raymond. Time to leave. D’you have your r/t with you?”
“Your mate Conal tucked it in his pocket.” .... His right knee shot pain up his leg but he wasn’t about to give Bodie the satisfaction of seeing that he’d needed rescuing. His fingers were thick, clumsy sausages and the returning blood felt like thousands of needles. Of all the fucking luck, of course he couldn’t bend them dexterously enough to fish the r/t out of Conal’s mackintosh...
An Agent's Christmas in London:Dawnwind

George Cowley was one of those unique men who could be categorized as both a doer and a thinker. Deceptively small, Cowley was clever and resourceful, cursed with a game leg while blessed with a silver tongue. A natural born leader, he was one who commanded loyalty and gave the same in return. However, when faced with a situation where he could neither think, nor do, the wily George Cowley became nothing more than a caged tiger.
He'd found himself in just such a situation for four days now, locked in a concrete room...
The door swung open and two men looking rather the worse for wear were roughly shoved to the floor at Cowley's feet, after which the door was slammed shut and bolted...
"We've come to rescue you," explained Doyle, who promptly passed out.
"For God's sake," Cowley growled, shoving himself to his feet and crossing the floor to kneel next to his injured operatives...he felt along Doyle's neck until he found his pulse. It was slow but strong and Cowley motioned Bodie to help him turn the unconscious man on his side..."Take it easy, Doyle. Lie still," he said, gruffly.
Doyle responded to the voice, eyes opening blearily, attempting to focus. "Must have been some party," he muttered, drunkenly... Saving George:Annie

shooting2kill — Tue, 02 Aug 2016 16:09:42 GMT
Visions of Bodie and Doyle: fight or flight?

This post was inspired by Moonlightmead's story of the same name: http://archiveofourown.org/works/679995

He looked around the hallway. It seemed older, more worn, the brass lamps tarnished. Like him. He wanted to run. Run up the corridor and through the light that promised an end to his pain, his torment and his uncertainty. To hell with the consequences. But there
was something that held him back, something that kept him in the hall....
The low repetitious murmur was back, drumming in his head. He was being pulled back into himself. He looked up the passageway. This time there was a figure in the light waiting for him. St. Peter? A silent laugh. No, this shadow was no angel. Had no wings, did it? But he knew that silhouette. He lived for it. Loved it. Bodie. No decision then. He knew the choice had already been made. He, Raymond Doyle would live.
The light grew brighter.
Choices:Merentha13

‘Okay. So I go and grovel to Cowley and get access to the computers. Cover our tracks, bollix the system so it crashes and they can’t do anything for a week or so.’
‘It means getting out completely. Setting up with new identities, the lot. You okay with that?’
‘As long as we’re together, yeah.’
‘Just checking. We might have to go abroad for a bit, but we can come back after a while.’
‘What do you want to do, after this?’ Doyle was curious. What sort of thing had his partner been considering?
‘Dunno. Never really thought much about getting out. What about you?’
‘Just the standard things. Security, bodyguard, fitness trainer. But we don’t have to stay in this business. We could do something completely different. Be normal.’
‘Normal?’ Bodie was sceptical. ‘Such as?’
‘Teacher. Artist. Landscape gardener. We could live in a little house together....
The King Must Die:murphybabe

"I miss you...."
"Oh, Jesus. Don't do this to me." He wanted to walk away, but he couldn't. He had to keep an eye on the fucking window. All he could do was turn away from Bodie, away from that soft, pleading look in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Ray. It's just that--I don't like being without you. Why can't we go back to how it was before?"
Doyle simply shook his head, too upset to talk. Christ, Bodie picked the stupidest times to go into this. And why the hell couldn't he figure out that it was over?
"Can't you even look at me?"
"I'm working," Doyle echoed Bodie's earlier words. Cold words.
A silence drew out between them. Doyle felt Bodie move away, heard him fiddling near the tea pot, then walking across the room, heard the creak as he sat in the armchair. He kept his gaze firmly on Matthews' house, where absolutely nothing interesting was happening...
Silence again... Love in a Faithless Country:Alexandra

The pub was so silent, it could have been a church or a courthouse. In the terrible quiet, over the noise of the wind, Bodie could hear his own heart beating, slow, steady, a loud drum in his ears. His mouth was dry and he noticed Doyle was licking his lips repeatedly.
"You okay?" he asked very quietly...
"Stage fright. You know, sweaty palms, itchy feet, heart going bang-bang," Doyle said drily. "I don't want to die, Bodie. Nobody does." He looked sidelong at Bodie, eyes wide, pupils dark in the dim light. "And if you're not scared, you're mad."
"I'm scared," Bodie admitted, and thought as he spoke, how strange it was to make that confession. He had never made it to another human soul. "It won't be long," he murmured...
Then they waited, and the following half hour plucked on Bodie's tight-strung nerves like a musician picking the strings of a banjo. This was the time he hated. The waiting. Erasmus Clay could not be far away now. Every minute brought him closer. Inactivity invited introspection and Bodie knew no means by which he could stop his thoughts turning inward, and backward to the past ... Nothing Left to Lose:Jane & Madelaine Ingram

He knows this is a mistake. Knows that he should turn around and walk away. But still he stands
there...
He tries to reason with himself that if he just leaves now, there will be no harm done. The whole thing will be ignored, given time, swept under the carpet so they can just carry on as before. It's not too late to avoid making things worse. Much worse.
But still he stays...
Despite the lateness of the hour, there's a light on in the bedroom and Bodie tries not to dwell on the images that conjures up… of Doyle naked in bed, restless, horny….
But then it occurs to him that perhaps Doyle isn’t alone. And that really should be the impetus he needs to leave, because the humiliation would be tenfold if he interrupted Doyle mid-shag with some bird. But instead, against all common sense, he forces his legs to take him to the front door and he presses the buzzer. Just like he has done a hundred times before. Only this time Doyle will know it's different. He'll know this isn't just Bodie dropping by because he's bored, hungry, run out of booze…
“Yeah?” Doyle's voice is unwelcoming over the speaker.
“It's me,” Bodie says, surprised he sounds quite normal.
There's silence... The End of the Path:Angelci5

"Ah, don't look like that, Ray."

"Like what?" he whispered; he had little breath to speak.

"Like you're scared of me."

"I'm not."

Bodie held his gaze, a long, dark look. "I would never hurt you, Ray. Don't you know that?"

He said it with a kind of wonder, as if there was so much more to know. Doyle lost his breath again, his heart beating heavily, with dread as much as anything. He was frightened all right, though not of Bodie; more at the depth of what he sensed in himself. But it was too late to stop now ...
First Night, Last Night:Sebastian

“By all rights we should be dead, anyway. Easier to shoot us than to dump us in here. Or shoot us and dump us in here. Or—“
“Shut up, Doyle.”
That sounded more like Bodie ... they were standing close enough to one another that he could feel the tremors in his body.
“You’re cold.” There was no water in the well, thank God, but it was damp.
Bodie said nothing to that and Doyle’s worry increased. Bodie had denied injury when they had first taken stock after being chucked down the well. His own head was aching from having been knocked out by Harrison’s men, but other than that he was okay. “Bodie.” He put a hand on Bodie’s arm. Bodie flinched ...... "Doyle. I need to get out of here.”
He had never, in all the years he’d known Bodie, heard panic in his voice before. Doyle’s heart heart rate sped up. “Okay. Hang on...”
He heard Bodie swallow. “I was in a hole before ... Congo.”
Oh, Christ. Bodie’s words from a few months ago flashed through his mind: Only some of us don't keep talking about it, right? Meredith had thought his experience as a prisoner was unique. Doyle didn’t know anything beyond the mere fact that Bodie had once been a prisoner during the Congo wars. Escape:PFL

Bodie looked at the stranger with whom he was about to be teamed and a part of him he had ruthlessly buried since he was sixteen years old stole his breath. Doyle was beautiful, cherubic even. The shock of it making him dangerously incoherent.
He tore his gaze from the luminous being suddenly standing in Cowley’s office... His fight to quell the turmoil within him absorbing him completely.
Cowley took in the brooding presence in front of him and understood. The man Bodie purported to be would have been outraged by the fay creature to whom he had just been introduced. But if Bodie was the man he purported to be Bodie wouldn’t have been in CI5.
The man Bodie actually was. masked his near panic by demanding “I’m going to be teamed with that?”
Cowley bided his tongue; these next few minutes would tell...
Bodie couldn’t look at the face which had unexpectedly made five minutes in the inner sanctum of CI5 more terrifying than any African war. Unimagined Vistas:Fiorenza-a

"Bodie." Cowley’s voice was brisk, expressionless. "You already know, of course, the Deputy Head of the Hong Kong Special Bureau."
And Bodie just had time to think, vaguely irritated, Do I? Before the realisation hit him like a blow in the gut. Hong Kong.
He felt as if he’d swallowed a bucket of ice.
His heart seemed to clench with apprehension, squeezed in a second into a tiny, suffocating pebble of shock in his chest and for a moment, two, three, he could think of nothing coherent at all.
He felt, in fact, quite sick...
He realised with a jolt that he was still staring blankly at Cowley, who was looking narrowly back; and for him, for these moments, Bodie made no attempt at all to hide his shock and fury.
Then, automatically, he controlled it all as he always controlled his emotions now...
Redemption:Kate Maclean:Gryphon Press

Fight or flight, they call it, that tide of adrenaline drenching your nerves and then receding, leaving you tingling, on edge, ready for anything. And it's just filled Doyle again. That can't have been accidental.
Doyle... doesn't do more than glance round with raised eyebrows. That was his hand on my arse again,
damn it. What is he playing at?
Bodie's eyes are crinkled at the corners, grinning conspiratorially at him. Just mates, larking about, then?
No. Doyle doesn't believe that for a minute. It's deliberate and it means something. Something more than just larking about.
But what? Is Bodie trying to wind Doyle up? Trying to put him down?... Doyle wonders seriously what Bodie will do if he reciprocates. Knock him into the middle of next week? Because it's getting pretty damned tempting, just to see Bodie's reaction. Or is it a genuine come-on? An invitation? In which case, Bodie is asking for a response, isn't he? And in that case, he might get more than he bargains for, because Doyle is no stranger to that side of life. You reckon you could take me? Cos I reckon I could take you. And what we do on the way there might be more than worth the risk.
The adrenaline courses through again, and Doyle knows what he's going to do...
Fight or Flight?:ML Mead

Bodie had clocked him as soon as he entered the pub. He was about Bodie’s age, a lean yet muscular man, curly hair, tight jeans...either very confident in his ability or he’d had too much to drink. Although he didn’t look drunk or stupid, he was encroaching on the gang’s space and staring at Tommy with an intenseness that was going to attract their attention.
And there it was.
“Got a problem, son?” shouted one of the gang. Instead of backing off like any sane person would, the curl haired man stood his ground. “Yeah I have as a matter of act... don’t like cop killers...” The gang circled the curly haired man who had now positioned himself into a fighting stance. “And what’s your name sunny, just so we know what to put on your headstone.” Quick as a flash the curly haired man jumped forward and punched the man square in the jaw knocking him out cold. The man fell back into two of his buddies pushing them over. “ They call me Doyle.”
Bodie was trying to think of a way of ending this without blowing his cover but no ideas were coming to mind. It looked like Doyle was on his own...for now.
Bodie To The rescue:Alex The Kid

"We have to talk..."
Bodie said, "Now seems as good a time as any."
He didn't say 'Let's get it over with' but the words lay implicit and heavy in the morning air. Doyle wanted to scream suddenly, 'What happened? What went wrong? What did I do?!'.... He felt the protective glacier slip and strove to shore it up. "All right. Just tell me something, Bodie. Did we or did we not...."
"We did," Bodie confirmed, not needing to hear the rest.
"And you can't tell me you didn't enjoy it. For chrissakes, you act as if I've suddenly become a leper or something. We've been tracking Green for days and the whole time you can barely look at me or talk to me or even get remotely close to me!"
Bodie looked at him, then away... "Look, it happened and I'm not sorry it happened. I told you I'd been wanting it, but...why don't we just leave it at that? You want things ... Put it down to loneliness and overactive libidos if you like."
Doyle thought he heard a faint and completely uncharacteristic tone of pleading in Bodie's voice. It shook him. "I don't accept that."
"Well, you'll have to, mate. That's it."
Doyle felt the pain, through his wall of ice, through years of a carefully built up defense system, through to his innermost self. "Damn you, Bodie," he said and got up and walked away.
Marooned:Anne Carr

It took me three days to track down Bodie...
I spoke briefly, succinctly, the words rehearsed yet as bitter as aloes on my tongue nonetheless:
"He needs you."
I looked at the closed, hard face. Bodie was always blankest when he felt the most. That was the way of it...But Bodie's granite face had grown harder, and he'd turned, and he'd walked away. To pause next to me, midnight-cold eyes measuring--and warning, I'd long reckoned. I'd faced him with all the passion and commitment and strength of purpose in me, flinging it at him, a gauntlet of power and will. He'd stared at me, his face unreadable, then nodded, once, before turning and striding from the room. Why Bodie had left that day had never been clear to me, but I'd hidden deep in my cache of secret guilts and resentments the inkling that Doyle was a trust I was being offered, not the gift I had convinced myself he was.
Dancing in the Rain:istia

The day after the sentencing was also the day after Bodie kissed Doyle in a lift. It was Wednesday, fresh and breezy. Their working partnership had crawled past its first birthday and was almost on its feet.
Everyone woke in their own beds...
Bodie drove, his shoulders tense. Doyle sat on his own tension, judging that it was not the right moment to ask those flapping questions. He knew he had at least three options. Either he shoved the whole memory into a black hole that would never again be investigated, or he kept quiet until it suddenly struck him that it was time to speak, or he waited until Bodie followed up his remarkable behaviour with something that didn't indicate chronic selective amnesia.
Alternatively, of course, he could say something right now. Except now was busy, now was repeated attempts at 50mph in a 30mph zone. Maybe tomorrow. Tomorrow's Life:JoJo

shooting2kill — Sun, 10 Apr 2016 16:31:49 GMT
Visions of Bodie and Doyle: games people play

A bit of a mishmash of story and image choices this time. I thought the theme would offer up lots of possibilities and be a fairly easy one to work with but it wasn't and I got well and truly stuck. Anyway, I hope there are some things here for people to enjoy.

....Dark circles under his eyes and a ghastly gray-green pallor betrayed the excesses of the night. Doyle couldn't have loved him more if he'd just crawled out of a garbage-strewn alley soaked in cat piss. "Mornin'," he said warmly, eager to resume where they'd left off.
Bodie stared at him. "Is that what this is? Christ, it sucks....."
"Bodie?" A flicker of doubt crossed Doyle's mind.
The other man paused, looked at him steadily. "What?" There was a distinct note of irritation in his voice.
Still smiling, still trying to be happy, Doyle said, "I was just thinking what a terrific evening we had. Didn't we?" Something wasn't right. The blank look on Bodie's face wasn't right at all.
Bodie slowly shook his head. "You're mental, Doyle. Gettin' so sloshed I can barely pee straight is not my idea of a good time."
"But--" Doyle's smile faded. It suddenly struck him what the problem was. Bodie was pretending that nothing had happened last night. Because he didn't want anything to have happened. He felt as if he'd been punched in the gut.
On a Hot Summer Night:Alexandra

Find me, Bodie had said....
He had to think like Bodie - shouldn’t be too hard, it was what they did at work every day, and outside work too...They were on the first floor - down was the ground floor, with security and the typing pool, then the basement with its long pipe-lined corridors and dusty rooms. Bodie was wearing new trousers. Brown corduroy, tight in all the places Doyle could have wished them to be tight. Upstairs, then. Second floor offices, empty rooms, ranks of filing cabinets - no wonder no one else was searching up here. Third floor, completely abandoned - CI5 wasn’t that big...
In a corner of the landing there was a hatch up to the attics, low enough to open, though any ladder was long gone, and then there was another narrow but long corridor, with slant-roofed rooms down either side.
Find me…
Doyle hesitated a bare moment, listening, but there was only the now-distant calls of the others, the occasional rumble of a vehicle down Christmas-quiet roads. There was no sign that Bodie was up there, but…
Find me…
No sound inside. He was going to look a right idiot if he’d got it wrong.
Find me.....Together at Christmas:Slantedlight

And tossed casually on the rumpled black silk were the kind of items Bodie had not seen in years. Not since a weekend in Cherbourg with a girl called Francine, whose tastes ran to the definitely exotic. But he did not think a girl had been at play here...

"What is it?" Ray asked, hushed, as if they were up to something very wicked, and very exciting....

"It's a body harness. Very chic. Play clothes, for the man who has everything. See? This strap buckles to the collar, this one buckles around the waist like a belt, this one buckles to the top of the cockring."

"Oh." Ray took a shaky breath. "Then, that'll be the neck collar and that'll be the cockring, on the bed there." He leaned over and gingerly lifted up the two soft but sturdy leather pieces. "The cockring's got two loops......Christ, Bodie, this is kinky."
A Game for Two Players:Jane

Bodie made his usual grand entrance, this time carrying-
"What the hell?" Ray barked when Bodie thrust the red roses...
"Told you that you needed courting."
"I'm not a bird...."
Bodie smiled. "Nice shirt," he said softly....Haven't seen you all week. Been looking forward to this."
Doyle canted his head to glance up. "You have?"
"Yup." Bodie cocked his head, smiling. "Let's go."
"Where to?"
"Ahhhh, but the guest doesn't ask the host where they're dining."
Ray's irritation suddenly flared. "I'm not some- This isn't a date!"
"But it is. The first of many....You need somebody who appreciates you."
Last Time Around:Lilyk

Doyle might not know how to deal with bitches like this; but Bodie did.
Bodie threw down another drink, then walked over to look down at Margo as her eyes followed his every move. "Is Doyle right," he asked when he stood over her, "Do you want to get fucked?"
Her answer was a weak "Yes."
"Louder," Bodie demanded. "I need to make sure this is what you want."
"Yes. Yes," she stated with a little more force each time.
"Well then, get up on the settee."
Scrambling to sit up, Margo did as she was told and Bodie moved to stand over her. "You'll have to get it ready," he said.
Margo began rubbing the inside of Bodie's thighs and then reached for the swelling length beneath two layers of material. "Go on, sweetheart," he murmured, kicking off his shoes, "pull it out." Trembling, her hands went to his belt buckle, loosening the leather then reaching for his zip.....
Whisper of a Kill:Lois Welling

"I seem to remember you saying something yesterday about how much you hated the man. Why is that?"
.... "Well, there was this girl...." He let out a mournful sigh. "Suzanne. She was beautiful. Had this lovely, long red hair...well, it doesn't matter now. It was jealousy, you see. He wanted her, I wanted her, but I won. And he couldn't take it. One day, when I wasn't around, he came round to her, and he had this knife--" He broke off, rubbing a hand across his eyes.
"No, I can't tell you about it. It's too painful."
Doyle had never witnessed such a fake performance in his entire life. But his boss was clearly moved by it.
"Such a tragedy," he said.
Bodie took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Well, it's history. It's over. Let's just move on, shall we?"
"Of course.....You're such a brave fellow..."
Doyle nearly gagged, but managed to hold back.
Memoirs of a Merc:Alexandra

I moved to stand beside him.

"Will he do?" he asked.

"Yes. Where did you find him?"

He smiled. "Och now, Bodie, you don't really think I'm going to tell you that, do you? You had a need and I supplied it. That's all you need to know."

"And her?"

"She'll get her just desserts. I'll think of something - appropriate."

I had no doubt that he would.
House Party (I Live to Serrve):Lizzie/Harriet Allenby

He didn't like it. Not at all, but it was a big place, and he wanted that information. Though part of him knew it was stupid, he started looking around. As he moved across the bridge, the half-expected shower of bullets broke the oppressive silence. He threw himself to one side, rolling away from the burst that only chased him. More games. Gaining his footing, he ran, rolled, then kept his head down as another barrage riddled the rubbish he'd chosen as a temporary refuge. Not just a game, he realized after a third session of run-and-duck. He was being herded. Sorry, not interested, he thought, a quick glance around giving him the choice of at least three routes back to his car and two to the river. But before he could act, the bullets sounded again, this time striking a target well away from him. He didn't move for a second, and another barrage pummeled that same distant area. His mouth suddenly dry, Doyle moved forward....
"Oh, God." He found himself staring at his worst nightmare.....
The Hunter's Bait:Anne Higgins

'Just the silver,' was Doyle's only instruction. '*All* the silver....'
'They're your family!' he hissed at Doyle.
'I divorced them,' was the cool reply. 'But I didn't care for the terms of the settlement.'
'What the hell?' Bodie sounded admiring and bewildered. And angry.
'Just starting to redress an injustice. Someday,' Doyle continued with heavy sarcasm, 'this was all meant to be mine.'
'You're rich!' Bodie accused. 'Where's the country estate?'
'They're rich.' Doyle turned to regard him. 'And it's most of Wiltshire. I wasn't lying about the Sorbonne, you know. I didn't go there on welfare...'
'I know,' Bodie said... 'They didn't like you being queer...'
Opportunities (Let's Make Lots of Money:Stew

The club was dark, the air thick with smoke. Disco music blared from the speakers, and men danced in the centre of the floor. There were no women. Doyle stood still for a moment, letting his eyes adjust. He must have got it wrong—Bodie wouldn’t be here—he wouldn’t— Nevertheless, he walked towards the bar, very aware of the looks he was receiving. Bodie wasn’t here. He’d gone in to a different place. He had to have.
A group of men congregated in the space between the door to the toilets and the bar. Some of them weren’t waiting for the scant privacy the toilets would provide. Bodie wasn’t amongst them. But as Doyle passed the group, the door to the toilets opened and—dammit—Bodie walked out, dressed in black. He zipped his trousers closed as he moved past the men, his natural arrogance on full display. Doyle stood still, rooted to the floor. Bodie saw him, faltered, then recovered.
Don’t, Doyle thought, but he watched Bodie pull a mantle of assurance, cockiness, around him.
“Ray.” Bodie walked towards him. “What are you doing in Manchester?” His voice held nothing but surprise in it, but his eyes flicked to the men watching them. Was he undercover? Was this part of…? No. Even in the dim light he could read Bodie. The only one he was trying to fool was Doyle.
“You bastard,” he said as anger overwhelmed shock. “You fucking—”
Unexamined Beliefs:PFL

Seated at the corner of the bar, she watched the two men enter the soft-lighted pub, only the flicker of her luminous eyes betraying her interest. She shifted on the stool, letting her skirt slide upwards across a tanned thigh - not too much, mind, just a hint of what was offered, just enough to tantalize. Hard to hide the sigh of boredom, though it didn't matter, sex was a meaningless sweaty exertion, work for a price. Still, this time the job held a hint of mystery, the need to be seductive, the targets weren't to know she was a professional. So it helped that these two were young and clean. A pair of predators on the prowl, one was like a big black panther with raven eyes; the other was slender and quick, all curls, long limbs in fluid motion. But it was just another job, and she met dark- eyes' glance with softest of a come-hither look, sultry and disdainful. A catch, pale blue holding midnight blue for the space of a heartbeat, then slowly moving on, her eyes flickering to his friend, holding, then sliding across the room. But she could feel his motion, sense it, the quick nudge against the other man's arm, a shift
in their stances, simultaneous and certain.
The pick-up was easy.
Predators:Jennifer Lyon

They headed north-west across country, the same direction from which the soldiers had come. Bodie
knew it was a gamble, he was either leading them into salvation or straight into the devil's lair.

Studying the man in the driver’s seat, he tried to consolidate him with the psycho who’d made targets
of them a little over two months ago. Back then the callous bastard had wanted them dead purely for
profit so it begged the question, what game was he playing now? Was he planning to put a bullet
into both of them when their backs were turned? Seemed unlikely considering he’d already had
the opportunity but maybe he was waiting until they were within sight of sanctuary. The man
was an enigma, a mystery too hard to crack with a pounding head so he focussed on the job
at hand. He’d decide what to do with him later when his head didn’t hurt so much.
A Prize Highly Valued:ci5mates

“I get the feeling there’s some serious speculation going on about you,” he said. “How many d’you
reckon think your boyfriend’s been beating you up?”

Doyle looked at Bodie, trying to see him as others might....stubble beginning to shadow his jaw.
Hard, seen-it-all eyes, insolent set to his mouth. Yeah, he looked the type right enough.

“Speculation about us, you mean,” Doyle said. “Well,” He pointed out, “If my boyfriend’s beating me up, you know who’s in the frame, don’t you?”

He regretted the words the instant they left his lips. A dangerous light was dawning in Bodie’s eyes. The Wrong End of the Stick:ElizabethOShea

Behind them, a throat was suddenly cleared. Loudly. In a decided Scots voice. “BODIE! DOYLE! On your feet!”
They sprang up.
He glared at them, surveying their rumpled clothes disapprovingly. “Well? What seems to be the trouble here?”
“Four kings, sir,” said Doyle, hesitantly, but unwilling to give in quite yet....“He got four kings in poker. Said he did, anyway.”
Cowley transferred his baleful gaze to Bodie. “Well? Did you?”
Standing very straight and at attention, despite the less than pristine clothes, Bodie said, “Sir! I did, sir!” If there was a hint of a smirk in his face, or his eyes, Cowley may have seen it. He surveyed the two for a long time—or what felt like a long time.
“I think,” said Cowley quietly, “that such childish arguments should best be settled by...
Macklin. Yes. I’ll call him up right now, and you can both head over tonight for a little catch-up training.”
“No! Sir! That is—we’re—we’re fine,” gulped Doyle.
“Oh?” asked Cowley in a very calm voice. “Are you certain, 4.5?”
“Yes sir,” gulped Doyle. “We’re fine. Just—a game, after all....” Game:Hutchy/Allie

Anger shot through him, like an arrow coldly flensed with steel; anger at Doyle's blatant exhibitionism - for he knew all too well Doyle did it out of a very calculated purpose indeed - and anger at his own helpless desire, the shaming lust that led him, every bloody time they played one of these very private little games instigated by Doyle, to gorge his eyes on Ray while he had the chance, greedily feeding on the sight of him, stashing impressions away in his memory with indecent haste, piling small detail on small detail, to be brought out at leisure, and alone...
... but even anger could do nothing to quell the growing, insistent excitement as he watched Ray undress, the intensely heightened sexual awareness, the tense alertness of anticipation... If he stops now - oh God, don't let him stop now...
Siren:Sebastian

We've seen your type before. Straight boys," and he made the term sound like a vile insult,
experimenting, slumming it for the week..."
"And if you want to explore your hidden desires with someone else, that's fine, that's
wonderful, we're thrilled for you." The sarcasm was biting. "But find someone else. Not Bodie."
"Why not?" He was surprised to hear the anger in his own voice.
"Doesn't matter to you who it is, does it?" Rutter continued smoothly. Had they practiced this?
He was reminded of the time Cowley'd called him and Bodie a music-hall act; the two of them had
nothing on this assault. "Any man'll do. But it matters very much to us, you see."
"Bodie's our friend," Hull joined in. "And on occasion is possessed of more heart than sense,
especially in his love life." That wasn't Bodie. Doyle snorted inwardly. He doubted Bodie'd
ever been in love in his life. And with men? Ridiculous.
"We don't enjoy picking up the pieces of his broken heart," Rutter said. "And if you can
bring yourself to care the slightest bit for his future welfare—" he gave Doyle a
skeptical look— "you'll break up with him now, before he falls in love with you."
"Why would he fall in love with me?"
...Hull smirked. "God only knows. But I saw how he was looking at you last night."
Arcadia:Sineala

shooting2kill — Fri, 22 Jan 2016 13:16:50 GMT
Visions of Bodie and Doyle: the art of 'showing' not 'telling'

[As always, please, please if you get a chance come and look at this directly at my journal rather than via your f'list as the spacing's much better here than there! And if the image size isn't right for you, I've also posted this up at AO3. Many thanks.]

Bodie said nothing. He risked a quick glance at Doyle, saw that he was turned slightly towards the driver’s seat, studying the dashboard - if he was seeing anything... “Ray. There’s nothing to worry about. Honestly -”
“We’ll still be partners. Friends. I know. ‘s gonna be fine. I’m not worried. And you don’t have to work so hard to include me, and - You wanna be on your own. ‘s natural.”
..I’ve seen enough of him...of the two of you... Well, I’ve seen enough to know that he’ll make you happy. The way he looks at you. It’s obvious. I see him sometimes ... He’s noticed the way your hair curls just after it’s been washed. The way the smell of you changes as the day goes on. Hasn’t he? Everything. And he tells you. Can’t help himself. Though it’s obvious, anyway, that he thinks about you all the time. “And when he tells you ... he watches you so carefully. Doesn’t he? D’you know why? D’you know what he’s storing away for the daytime? He’s in love with the way every line of your face softens, and your mouth falls open like your lungs need more than air, and your eyes seem to be seeing ... something else. And the way you don’t even know that it’s happening. You think you’re just smiling. Sometimes I see him look at you, and I know ... he’s remembering. “It doesn’t frighten him, you see. For him it’s ... it’s wonderful. He wants it. He likes feeling his heart ... turn over. Doesn’t frighten him. Not at all...Freezing:Helen Raven

The interior was dimly lit and crowded. The music was louder than Bodie liked, currently Love Letters in the Sand. He'd never cared for Pat Boone. He scanned hopefully for Doyle and located him in the midst of a group of about a dozen people, all familiar except for a girl who must be the new blonde......
Except he discovered that he only wanted to look at Doyle....Same ugly mug, flattered by the dim,
artful lighting into brief momentary illusions of strange beauty.... Doyle in a brown shirt, open at the neck, and those dull green moleskins. Doyle laughing, swigging back something in a half-pint glass. Doyle who had slept with him the night before he left for Belfast, the way they did occasionally. Never anything serious, of course, but.... Doyle with whom he had exchanged a totally unpremeditated kiss of farewell the next morning. Doyle who had nagged at his thoughts continually, especially at night. The memory of that
lean body pressed against him, strong arms holding him close, mouth yielding yet demanding in that first ever kiss.
A Portrait of My Love: The Hag

"...This doesn't make sense. You still haven't said why. Why you won't go without me ... Don't tell me -- you've fallen madly in love with me, right?"
Bodie felt a sense of shock at the words, knowing that was little more than the truth but unable to admit it, to himself even less than to Doyle. He covered quickly. "Listen, mate, it's like the ol' man's bum leg. It's a right pain to him sometimes, but he'd sooner hang on to it, just the same." Doyle stared at him, wondering if Bodie realized what he'd just said and what it implied. Bodie cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, it doesn't mean he's in love with his bloody leg, does it?" he repaired falteringly, half-way realizing the import of the bald statement, "He's just used to havin' it..." He shut up abruptly before he dug himself in any deeper....
Time Out:Past Tense:Pamela Rose

Doyle was just about to turn the page when a familiar spiky hand looped around some of the titles and curving onto the opposite leaf dragged his gaze back. Peering more closely, he realised they were notes and a small fond smile twitched his lips. Reading through them, hearing Bodie’s cheery, teasing tones in his ears, Doyle slowly began to realise just how much he’d missed his partner in the last few weeks. He missed being with Bodie and missed joking with him and being privy to the strange telepathic connection that they shared, but that was part of the problem, though wasn’t it? He was a mess – dangerous. Bodie had nearly died because of him and it wasn’t the first time......Like a drowning man, he had been
concentrating too much on just trying to stay afloat that he’d missed the lifeboat and had been lost at sea. Eventually, trying to swim in the crashing waves had just become too hard and like the drowning victim he’d let go and let himself go under. But Bodie hadn’t let him go. The tiny thought burned like a single star in the darkness....Bodie – he couldn’t leave Bodie. Bodie, part of the reason that he had wanted to die because he thought he deserved better. The pain of being near him had become too much... The Sun Will Still Rise in the East:Agent_Talis

"That wasn't what I was asking. Christ, Bodie, I wouldn't mind as much if you had slept around. Not if you could look me in the eye and tell you'd always been a hundred percent sure I wasn't a traitor....."
"Look, it wasn't easy -- I never wanted to believe -- but Cowley showed me the evidence. I wanted to believe in you -- even did my own investigation, trying to find something that would clear your name. But in the end -" He looked away, horrified to hear his voice crack a little. "In the end it was easier to believe the accusations were true. Because if you weren't a traitor, you were probably dead."
"Jesus, Bodie," Doyle said in a low voice, etched with pain.
Bodie didn't dare look up at him, because he knew that if he did, then he'd crack.....
The Long Game:Garonne

It's after midnight and he can still hear revellers shouting on the streets outside, and the intermittent pop of a stray firework. His discontent can't have anything to do with the job, either. Cowley was a bit put out, at first, but they'd managed to track down Wright and retrieve the stolen guns. Then the old man smiled, said the operation could be considered keel there, too. Bodie himself was patched up, and healing nicely, no nerve damage in his hands. He'd had to talk to Dr. Ross of course, but she'd failed to ferret out any evidence of psychological trauma. Which made sense, since there was nothing in his subconscious to trouble him anymore now that his ghosts had all been tucked neatly back where they belonged. Doyle still hadn't got his missing memories back, but otherwise the doctors said his mental faculties were in as good a shape as ever.
Doyle.
Bodie pauses, disturbed. Doyle is fine. The partnership is fine. Everything is the same as it's always been... Except that Bodie can't forget the feel of Doyle's coarse springy curls against his cheek,
the rough texture of his skin, the scent of him and the warm weight of his body.....
Present Company:Rebelcat

I want us to work together, I want us to go to his flat together. I want Ray cooking and me doing the dishes afterwards. I want us to fight over the progamme on the telly or beat him playing cards. I want Ray to shout at me for getting us behind in the schedule, every morning. I want to fall asleep knowing that this will be our bed for at least 1 more day. I want him to edge me on during training, forcing me to go that last mile that'll make me fit. I want to teach him not to pull his punches, least of all with me. I want us squabbling when it's time to do the laundry. I want us going on the shooting range, comparing scores. I want us to be apart only to come together again. I want us to tear into each other. I want us to make up. I want us to be together. I want him. I want him to want me, too. It's not what he wants though ...
Altruism:Marrie

(He) dropped his head back...and closed his eyes....Oh, he hated this – well, no. That wasn't the right word, because it was worth the ache and the strain of hiding his feelings to have Bodie in his life, to horde these private, unguarded moments his partner gave to no-one else. Even more precious and painful were the times when Bodie lost the “matey” mask and his affection for Doyle showed through. Bodie loved him, Doyle knew that. It just wasn't the same way Doyle loved him. Bodie loved him as a friend and best mate, and that would have to be enough. Doyle would stay silent the rest of his days if that was what it took to keep Bodie.... No, he didn't hate this at all. But he was tired...
This Christmastide:jessebee

"What the hell's wrong with you?" Pain was raw in his voice. "Are you that bloody naive or just plain daft? Why won't you see the risk, at least admit it's there? And pack him in."
"No."
"My God, has he got you hooked that much? I don't believe it."
"Believe what you want, I'm not discussing..."
"Yes, you are....What do you need from him, damn it?" he shouted. "What the hell can he do for you that I can't?"
Shock jolted through Doyle, slackening his jaw and widening his eyes. Bodie's face mirrored the reaction as he, too, realized what he had said...
"Well?" Bodie demanded, a kind of defiance covering his astonishment. "Tell me."
Doyle could not answer immediately. Mentally reeling from that one sentence, his first impulse was to admit the set-up. But Cowley had stressed that nobody, Bodie included, should know. But if he didn't spill the beans, Bodie would assume....
Of Tethered Goats and Tigers:Tarot

... it was just a bullet, even if it had spun a path of fire through him, left the flames licking their way into his blood. Good job it hadn't been a dum-dum, mind, that would've made a hell of a mess. Maybe Doyle was right, maybe dum-dum's weren't such a good idea. The Yanks used them all the time, mind, so did estate managers and... yeah, he bet Paul Cougan'd had his firearms certificate beefed up with it, to keep all those nasty deer at bay... Bastard. They'd get him one of these days. He'd get him one of these days, for what he'd nearly done to Doyle.
Yeah, Doyle'd come, like a bullet straight through Bodie's heart, he'd come running any minute now, roaring Bodie's name...
Bodie froze, eyes wide, staring at the rivets on the black iron in front of him. Where had that come from? Doyle in his heart? Doyle wasn't anywhere near his heart, Doyle was a mate, he was...
He was coming now for Bodie, Bodie heard his shout in the distance, just as he'd expected, coming to find Bodie and to... to what? Well, they always found each other, didn't they, that was what they did. It was just... expected. Natural.
Bullets:Slantedlight

It’s almost like the old days, he thinks painfully....
“Anyway, what about you?” Doyle asks, after making Bodie laugh with a story about a flak jacket, a sniffer dog and an unfortunate MP. “You haven’t done too badly either, have you?”
“Yeah, business is steady, can’t complain. I’m hoping to set up a shooting range soon, too. We get a lot of ex-army boys, so it should be popular...”
“And how’s the family?” Doyle forces himself to ask....
Bodie hesitates momentarily. “Chrissie and I divorced,” he says. “Couple of years ago.”
Doyle’s heart skips a beat. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he says. And he is, sort of. She’d been funny and sporty, very pretty... not a bad match for Bodie. Never mind the sacrifices he made for her.
Bodie shrugs. “It was for the best... she’s re-married now.”
“And your daughter?” asks Doyle, somehow managing to keep his voice level....
“Daughters. Got two. Ellie’s fourteen now, and Katie’s eleven,” he says.
Doyle tries to ignore the mix of emotions rocketing through him... Bodie’s divorced... With two kids...The Meeting:Angelci5

Doyle lay awake, staring into the darkness. Tina was fast asleep, her hair spilling over his shoulder and tickling his chest. Absently, he pushed it away. She mumbled something in her sleep and pulled the covers closer under her chin.
There was something wrong.
Okay, Tina wasn't Miss World but she was appealing enough. So why had he kept expecting to find hard muscle instead of soft curves? Why had he been wanting to bury his fingers in short, black hair....? And why would Tina's moans and tangled phrases of pleasure have been so much more satisfying if they'd been a couple of octaves deeper and spoken with a Birkenhead accent?
He sighed with frustration. It was perfectly understandable, if you approached it logically. His most recent sexual experience had been with Bodie and it was so unusual and so recent that, of course, it had kind of imprinted itself on his consciousness. Probably there was always this comparison going on in the back of his mind and he just didn't notice it. Fancying Bodie would be more trouble than it was worth, so he'd just have to prove to himself that everything was perfectly logical, understandable and normal. Really. Not in Love:Derry

Doyle was quiet, waiting for him to say something. But he didn't know what to say.
"Beautiful."
"Yeh, yeh. Like looking in a mirror."
There was a sharpness to Doyle's voice, but looking again at the picture softened its cutting edge. It was a charcoal, and the lines were rough and strong. And anybody who knew him would recognise the subject was Bodie himself. Nude..... It really was beautiful. It made him look beautiful. Not young; it was him, now, looking better than he had this morning.It had been sketched out of memory, he would have guessed. The eyebrows were sketched in to give the face an amused expression that somehow didn't seem out of place even though there wasn't anything in the picture to look amused about. Maybe he'd been having a good thought,
and Ray had caught it....Definitely the face of a creampuff. And the body of a man who ate them. But strong. Sure. There was no trace of mockery in the image. Only love, humour, and the keen observation of someone who'd spent too many hours looking at him to be taken in by any of it.
He cleared his throat, which had gone tight. "Thanks." Zeno's Paradox:Miriam Heddy

Doyle had spoken the verboten word. Love. Not in his dictionary. As Bodie was so fond of saying, not in his book at all To have Doyle, loving him………wanting to hold him forever. Owning him, tying him down, making him stay in the one place...It filled him up, spilling over, the thought of Doyle loving him. But it emptied him, ebbing him away, the thought of Doyle when the disillusionment set in, when the dissatisfaction crowded all the love out...And it never even occurred to him to wonder at the way he looked at Doyle, nor the way he risked his life for him, nor the way he already put Doyle first in everything... It never occurred to him at all, for then he would have to question that most intrinsic of
things, his own self-identity. Only queers loved other men.....Only queers were sweet and soft and romantic with other men.
A Summer's Outing:M Fae Glasgow

Doyle's eyes didn't shift, but Bodie saw the attention turn to him. It was like watching metal catch the light.
"Keep breathing." Bodie kept his voice soft, hoping to convey to Doyle something like the reassurance Doyle's voice had held for him. "Can't be long now...."
Doyle might be beyond speech, but he didn't need words to reply.....(His) eyes softened. The look held between them, no words necessary. Whatever it took, no matter how long the rdeal lasted, this much was solid. The connection between them was clean and clear.
Steadfast, they waited together.
Bodie heard the siren first.....
Hang About: Irene (Proslib)

“We couldn’t raise you on the R/T.”
“Wha—?...."
“I came to find you.”
Bodie had followed him, was close...There was something in his voice that held Doyle still. (*Yeah, I saw you through the window, lying on the floor. Thought it was a bloody strange place to have a kip. Spilled the milk, too. Very messy*.) “I killed him,” Doyle said. “Fought him off.”
“Brian will be pleased.”
...Bodie’s voice was back to normal. They could bury it, as they always did. Make a joke, shrug it off, do something. He reached out, and when Bodie flinched, he knew he’d been right.
He took Bodie’s hand in his, held it as he never had before. “It wasn’t me on the ground this time.”
For a long moment, Bodie didn’t move....“You missed.”
“Recognised—” But he could say no more. Disaster had been averted by the slimmest of margins—a flicker of recognition and muscle memory.
“First thing they taught us—don’t shoot your partner.” No Stranger:PFL

shooting2kill — Fri, 13 Nov 2015 13:04:59 GMT

Visions of Bodie & Doyle: first time encounters and early days.

[Please, please if you get a chance come and look at this directly at my journal rather than via your f'list as the spacing's much better when viewed that way. Thank you.]

... he was unaware for a moment that the man was now upright and returning his blatant stare. The pen fell out of his mouth and plunged headlong towards his notebook, splattering ink in all directions. Damn....
Bodie tried valiantly after that to keep his mind on the work in hand. Tried. It was not easy.
When tempted beyond endurance he scanned the whole of the room first, so that any surveillance
would seem entirely accidental. It worked well, until one casual sweep found Doyle leaning
against the shelves beside the window. Shafts of radiant sunlight fell on his hair and face,
giving him an altogether magical air and Bodie's mouth fell open once again.
Rapt, he only surfaced when he noticed the man's....glance and twitch of lips. He knew.
Well he would wouldn't he? Looking like that. You would know the effect you had on people.
A Birdwatcher's Guide to Cornish Ghosts:Lizzie

"Your partner, Agent 3.7," Cowley clarified. "His code number. You'll be 4.5; it's best
you memorise that as soon as you can, since you--ah, good, come in, Bodie!"
Behind Doyle, there was the sound of a door opening, and as Doyle turned and met the
stranger's eyes he realised that there was, in fact, a way the situation could be worse:
his new partner was exactly, perfectly his type.
Damn it.
The newcomer's eyes, a startlingly intense blue, flicked quickly over Doyle, assessing and
then, it seemed, dismissing him as a threat. The man's lips curled a little, a ghost of a
smile in a carved face, and Doyle felt a confused, uncomfortable rush of heat. Attraction,
of course, but the sort of thing he'd last recalled feeling when the Ravenclaw boys in the
year above him brushed past in the corridor--the thrill of a beautiful stranger, above him
and somehow untouchably, unutterably perfect......
Doyle imagined him smiling truly, lips parted, head tilted back as he slid and arched up
against him--no. Not now. Christ..... Special Men:Sineala

....Bodie twirled at a movement behind him. He did not need to shoot. Another armed man
was falling already, his gunshot going wide because of a well-placed kick by a curly-haired
stranger, who followed it up with a boot to the neck. The man who would have shot Bodie went
down, his gun falling to the side. He lay motionless.
“Much obliged,” said Bodie.
But the newcomer was not ready to give him the benefit of the doubt. His rescuer stepped
forward into the hallway, green eyes blazing. “Hold it!” he said to Bodie, his voice hard
with authority. “Drop that gun. You’re under arrest.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” said Bodie. He was not intimidated by the manner, especially from
someone who was more tough than large......He glared at the stranger, some over-trained
cop with flair for martial arts who had no idea what he was walking into. Not a patrolman,
which Bodie’d expected: plain clothes CID, in tight jeans... Curly hair and slim build gave
him the impression of youth. Tired green eyes, heavy with experience and hostility, gave a
contradictory impression of maturity...“You have the wrong side here, sunshine. I’m one of
the good guys...” Forever True:Fajrdrako

...he was beautiful.
His hair was very dark, worn in a neat spacer's crop, close around the ears and back of
the neck. What remained of his fleshware—mainly his legs and lower torso—was sturdy and
muscular, with fine pale skin showing between the scars. His face was bruised, probably
from his latest encounter with Rahad, but remarkably undamaged. Indigo eyes, thickly
fringed with dark lashes, watched R4A5Y with suspicion and only thinly-concealed fury.
"Think you'll know me again?" he said in a low harsh voice after a few seconds.....
"Jesus christ, what's Rahad been doing to you?" he blurted out.
"You must be new," the 'borg said. "You can't have missed it otherwise."
"I can't believe you're still functioning with these levels of damage. How are you
maintaining your integration?"
"Buggered if I know." The 'borg shrugged slightly. "What do you want, suggestions for
improvement?'
"Oh, sorry." R4A5Y moved his face covering down for a moment so his optivisor was visible.
"I'm from CI5. I'm here to rescue you." A Future to This Life:Verlaine

.....he knows all about DS Doyle, his accomplishments and his disasters. Joined
the Met more or less out of art school, an even less likely recruit there than here,
after an undistinguished stint as barrow boy, bartender, and other such part-time work
as he deserved for frittering away three years wasting paint with a bunch of pretentious
Bloomsbury nancy-boys. Did all right in the Met, not setting the Thames on fire, until
his sergeant and partner took a bullet on patrol with him. Worked alone after that,
beginning a determined climb through through the ranks. Bodie knows the type. Activated
by perceived injustice, on a solo mission to set the world to rights. Even the thought
of him makes Bodie tired. And he's been doing all right with the training so far, but
why would Cowley bother with him, and with the other civilians, when he's got military
candidates queuing up for the chance? Why try to graft counterterrorism skills onto shop
boys and bobbies?
Bodie doesn't understand it.... Painted Angels:Angelfish

The speaker droned on, as only speakers
on a stage can. Bodie had heard it all before, dozens of times - it felt like hundreds
of times - and he let his gaze wander, keeping half an ear out for a change of subject.
How the hell else were you going to enter a building full of armed men who wanted nothing
better than to shoot you, anyway? What he really wondered was how many of the blokes
around him didn’t have a clue about it, because if he was partnered with any of them when
Cowley made his selections, it would only be a matter of time before he had to cut them
loose.There - that tall drink of water he’d spotted on the way in, he was actually taking
notes. And the bloke with the birds-nest hair, he was paying such close attention it was a
wonder he hadn’t wandered up to the stage to sit beside the boring bloody ponce. He was
almost in profile to Bodie, his eyes unwaveringly on the speaker, actually concentrating.
Not that you had to be Brains to work out he’d never been in the army - what was he
supposed to be, anyway? Anson’d heard rumours they were being assigned some kind of social
worker trick cyclist to sob their hearts out to after killing other killers, and this
bloke looked the type - it could be him. Not in the Bush Now:Slantedlight

...there was a darkness in him, as well. It was there, hidden in Cowley’s reports and
the interviews with Bodie. He’d conducted some of them himself, watched others from behind
two way glass. He’d read the transcripts and seen the arrogant, hard face of a man who did
not look back — who refused to regret any decision he’d made, no matter what.
Someone so hard and unyielding had his place, of course, but was it in CI5? Perhaps Bodie
was fit only to be a soldier......
Bodie didn’t have Doyle’s propensity to go off like an angry rocket, but he had a danger
inside him that could not but affect his job. That was well and good, if he learned the
limits. If he used his skills to get results (without breaking heads simply because he
decided they needed broken, without finding malicious joy in the deed for its own sake),
then he could be a fine agent, one of the very best.
In short, Cowley wanted Bodie and Doyle to both work out—separately if they must, together
if they could—but he was by no means certain that they would. They were still very much
untried. Lessons

"A lot of police work involves sitting and waiting and watching.”
“Can’t see the appeal, myself,” Bodie shrugged. “That what made you want to be a copper
– voyeur, are you?”
Doyle’s jaw clenched at the implied insult. Bodie had been goading him since Cowley had
informed them that they were to be partners. Getting Doyle to lose his temper seemed to
be Bodie’s main ambition. Yet, there was something in the ex-mercenaries demeanour that
made Doyle believe there was more to the man than he let show. He choked back his initial
response and hoping that sharing his past might encourage Bodie to do the same, he opened
himself up to more of the man’s scorn....“Actually, I had wanted to be an artist.” He
turned his head towards Bodie to see the reaction.....
“An artist?”
“Yeah, painting. Spent a year in Paris, living all the clichés.”
“So what happened? No Doyle’s hanging in the Louvre?”
“Realised I wasn’t good enough...."Disclosures:Merentha13

He looked at the file still lying open on his desk and pulled out the pile of photocopied
passports. He leafed through them, glancing at each of the small photos until the face of a
dissenting seraph with familiar untamed curls was gazing up at him. Raymond Doyle.
So he was right.
Bodie sat back in his chair and regarded the picture. So much for having a face like a bag
of spanners…
Struck by the critic’s unexpected beauty, he felt a stab of lust. The hair was a little shorter
in the photo, framing tantalising features; exotic, knowing eyes, full lips and high cheek
bones… one slightly indented. Perhaps someone didn’t like one of his reviews, Bodie thought
wryly, trying and failing to ignore his body’s reaction to the photo. At least he was in
private this time......
An Island Affair:Angelci5

Duncan worked the room the way a politician works a fund-raiser or a whore works a client.
The music was on again and it was grinding and seductive. He barked out orders....shifting,
moving, adjusting, as the shutter snapped and film was consumed.
Bodie watched mesmerized from his front row vantage point--having been told unequivocally
that whatever happened, he was not to move. It was hard to tell who was hotter, the man
behind the camera or the man in its sights...
Bodie realized that his bet had been a loser from the start--he'd been had by this siren
of a man who squatted and pranced and posed with as much élan as his models, maybe more.
The erection was inevitable and within the confines of the pouch, it was uncomfortable as
well. The discomfort flickered on Bodie's face and despite orders, he shifted trying to get
purchase on a more comfortable position for his increasingly bulky genitalia. He had just
finished squirming when Ray's voice sang out over the music one last time.
"That's it--we're finished. It's a wrap. Good work everyone. I think we have something
really special this time." The Sting:Elspeth Leigh

".....There’s my ID.”
“CI5,” Ray read out. “William Bodie. Agent Number 3.7. I’ve heard of CI5 – aren’t they
usually all cloak and dagger and preventing assassinations? The political angle? Just what
do you think is going on at Henbray?”
Bodie raised his eyebrow. “I can’t exactly tell you chapter and verse. But everything connects,
you know. What’s a straightforward crime in one country can mean a political act in another.”
He spoke as if he was quoting a saying he often heard, and did not really think about, or
even perhaps understand.
“How do I know the ID is real?”
“Phone my boss if you want. There’s a number on the card, or I can give you one that doesn’t
go through three layers of secretarial staff. I was going to ask to use your phone in any
case – I need to arrange how they’re going to extract me.”
“A national government agency can’t send a taxi?”
Bodie gave him an impatient look......Why I Sojourn Here:Halotolerant

The skinny bloke had auburn hair like a brillo pad. His cheek had broken at some point,
and been irregularly set. As he laughed, Bodie could see that some of his teeth were crooked.
His laugh was so infectious that Bodie found himself laughing along with him. He had dimples;
Bodie liked that. And spirit. He liked that, too.
"Look......why don't we go get some breakfast?"
Bodie hesitated.
"I'll buy," said the young man, quickly.
Bodie looked at him again, more speculatively. A potential client? No. Too young, too scruffy,
probably didn't have much more cash to him than Bodie did himself. Quite possibly less, since
Bodie had spent the night with Old Midas, and that meant his pockets were full for a change.
"Can't," said Bodie succinctly.....
Rent Boy:Elizabeth Holden (Fajrdrako)

"Have you any idea what time the floor show starts?"

The deep voice with its softly spoken question startled him, he jumped and splashed his drink
over his hand and the polished table top.

"No," he tried to cover up his surprise and looked up into a pleasantly friendly face. "I
didn't know there was going to be a show. I thought it was dancing all night."

"This is your first visit here then?" The black clad figure enquired politely, still standing
by the table.
Looking up at the stranger, he smiled inwardly. A variation of the 'do you come here often'
routine. Apart from the absence of a different gender it seemed as if the rules of play didn't
change much. The thought was comforting. If the rules were the same he knew how to play....
On Paper:Rob

He hadn’t been with a man in five years when he met Bodie: the proverbial spanner in the works.
Doyle had wanted Bodie from the moment he laid eyes on him. He’d also disliked him, from his
taste in over-fussy clothes to his apparently shallow personality. Worst of all was the arrogant
smirk that almost always graced his features....
Without the smirk, Bodie was delightful to look at. His teeth weren’t perfect, but his smile
was boyish and infectious. He tended to pout, which was an endless source of amusement —
and teasing — for Doyle. His eyes were a striking shade of dark blue, thickly lashed, and
wonderfully expressive. They could be chilling, sarcastic; they could show gut-wrenching
anger and frustration, they could sparkle with humour, or shine with warmth and affection.
As the months of their acquaintance went by, and developed into friendship, Doyle saw that
look of warmth more often, and what was more, it was directed at him. They bickered and
sniped at each other just as much, but when Doyle thought of Bodie — fellow recruit,
colleague, friend — it was the warmth he remembered. Measuring Scars: Maddalia

My first close up of young Master Raymond threw me. I had wanted to let him think I was
a bumbling country bumpkin who he could boss around, waiting for the right time to ensure
he got his come-uppance. But when I was face to face with him, it was like my brain stopped
working. He was striking, there was no other way to describe his exotic looks. His dark hair
lay thickly in curls around his head, and his green eyes, his beautiful green eyes, were
almost translucent. I wouldn’t have described him as handsome: his looks were more
captivating than beautiful. But the complete visual package was fascinating to me.
Then he ruined it by opening his mouth. “I asked who are you? Are you stupid?”
And any attraction I felt to him ended right there. This man needed to learn how
to treat people right. And with a certain amount of pleasure, I decided I was just
the person to teach him....Bodie's Choice:Marjoram_Max

Cowley can't be bloody serious.
Can't be. He's sitting there looking like the straight man from some sort of nightclub act,
telling me I have to work with Bodie.
Bodie, William Arthur Philip. Cross between Ape Man and Casanova...
Bodie looks totally impassive - that's another of his rather dubious talents. He changes
from glowering to neutral to grinning like a bloody banshee just like he changes from
broad Liverpudlian to BBC English at the drop of a hat...
Well, we all knew we were going to get partners. I expect we've all wondered all through
the training who we'd end up with. Me, I'd decided right from the start that out of all
the group, there was only one who would get up my nose and he's....there beside me, in
a suit, looking like he's got a ramrod stuck up his bum.
Great.
So we're supposed to work together. It doesn't mean we have to like each other......
You and Me Against The World:BrendaK

shooting2kill — Thu, 13 Aug 2015 11:21:47 GMT

Visions of Bodie & Doyle: Some 'what the fuck' moments.

I fucked Bodie.
It’s the only logical conclusion I can reach. Not that it makes any sense.
I’ve lain here thinking through all the evidence for a solid hour, but everything
points in one direction. Consider it like this:
I’m naked.
I’m in Bodie’s flat. I’m in Bodie’s bed, for Chrissake.
With Bodie.
Who is also naked.
Plus, he’s got fresh bite marks I’m looking at on the back of his neck, and
they didn’t come from that petite blonde he’s been walkin’ out with for
the past six weeks. ............
Evidence:FJ Bryan

He was silent again. After a minute Doyle asked tentatively, "You'll miss her,
won't you?"
"Last bit of family I've got this side of the world. She said... She's always
said she hoped I'd bring along a special young lady one of these days. Only the last
couple of years it's been 'somebody special'. Don't know if you fancy... Next Thursday..."
After a dumbfounded pause Doyle said tentatively, "Dinner with the family, sort of
thing?"
"Well, she's a bloody good cook......"
Sapling:The Hag

Cowley moved to his desk. "These are the transcripts of the initial interview with
your bomb-setter. One Vic Dunbar...."
A voice was speaking....."So they give me the address, and I come out to Bucks, and - " "Wait. They had the address? Where from?" Jax, shooting the question in.
"No idea. They just knew where to be. Told me on the Monday afternoon, I was there
that night, spent that night and parts of the next day watching. Had to be a quick job.
And only one chance. So I went for the poofs....."
"The who?" Anson's voice was louder, obviously nearly the microphone. He must
have leaned right in......
There was a defiant laugh. "The poofs. You know who I'm talking about."
Short silence, then: "You must do. The other two? The ones in the new wing. All
over each other, they were. No idea why they kept two beds. They never even needed to
talk to each other....God's truth, guv'ner. S'why I went for them. Get the
right bed, and take two of them out at once."
Over the rushing in his ears, Doyle could hear the tape continue.
Whistle Blower:ML Mead

He gave her his most alluring smile and said inordinately loudly, “How about you and
me get together after this darlin?”
At this the court was in disarray, the stenographer blushed, the Judge was infuriated and
there were giggles and guffaws from the gallery and jury. Doyle’s jaw dropped.
The Barrister asked, “Would you mind repeating that, Mr Bodie?”
Bodie replied, “Well she’s a bit of alright isn’t she?”
He turned back to the stenographer, winked and said, “What do you say love,
you an’ me?”
Alarm bells were beginning to ring in Doyle’s head, what’s the fool up to?
Bodie knew better than this. There was too much at stake to be playing around.
Tainted Evidence:Ci5mates

"Do'you want us to stake it out?"
Even as he asked it he could see from Cowley's face that it was more than that;
the look of embarrassment was back again....
"We need a behind-the-scenes look at the place, Doyle.......And that means someone
working there - in the kind of job where no one will even think of suspecting someone from
CI5..."
Doyle was beginning to get that little prickle up and down his spine that told him
he wasn't going to like this. He eyed his boss tolerantly.
"You'd better spit it out, sir. You're giving me goose pimples hedging round
it like this. What exactly is it you want us to do... or is it just me you're putting
on the spot?" After all, there had to be some good reason for Bodie's exclusion from this interview.
"You, Doyle. Plato's is looking for a... er... a male stripper. I'm not
instructing you to do this, you understand. In this case I'm prepared to give you
the option."
Doyle's sense of outrage was warring with sheer disbelief....
Air on the G String:O Yardley

"Tell me who you fancy. I'll tell you if he's available."
"You prat! Okay... ah," He thought very hard but couldn't come up with one possibility.
"I don't really fancy anyone on the squad," he confessed.
"Nobody at all? No handsome face has bewitched you? No leanly-muscled body had driven you
into ecstasies of the naughtiest kind? ...It's The Cow, isn't it?" Bodie demanded. Ray gurgled helplessly.
"No, it's... it's... Macklin, isn't it? S&M? That's why you enjoy the bashing he gives us."
Ray laughed until he hurt. When he finally began to recover he gasped, "the only one I could
ever fancy is you, Bodie." There, it was out. Bodie's face shuttered immediately.
"Oh, very good choice," he replied with a coolness that sobered Ray immediately.
"S'true. Still, it'd be too much to ask, wouldn't it? Besides, I don't want to ruin the
relationship."
"Yeah."
"Yeah," Ray repeated......
"But I'd do it," Bodie said, finally... Noises at Dawn:Fanny Adams

Dear Ray,
You weren't kidding when you said you felt better, were you? Was like getting-- I'm so bloody
glad to have you back. I know it's only been just over two weeks. Felt like forever.
Anson's looking at me like I'm demented. Having ripped your letter open and read it three
times in the car I'm writing away like there's no tomorrow.
Maybe it's because I'm hoping to get a love letter out of you.
Christ. I knew this writing lark was a mistake. It lulls you into a false sense of security.
But it's the truth, I won't pretend otherwise. It's too late for that now. Cowley should
never have sent me up here. I've had too much time to think, much too much--mainly about
you. And me. Settling down.
Don't panic.......
No Unicorns:Sebastian & HG

"It's two days to the beginning of the conference," Doyle said brightly.
."Once it's over, Northcroft will be going back to the States." A small smile of satisfaction graced Ray's lips.
Bodie shrugged. "So?"
"So, you and he have been going at it hot and heavy for weeks, I was wondering if you
were going to be broken-hearted when he leaves." Doyle sounded like he'd be delighted if that were the case.
With a sigh, Bodie realised it was now or never. "I might go with him....."
"What?"
... "Robert offered me a job in Seattle....."
Love's The Last To Know:Meridian

"You're never joking, sir?"
Still unbelieving, Doyle looked....at Cowley, who stared firmly back at him, like this
assignment was real. It couldn't be. He must be dreaming.....
"This is a matter of the highest national importance, 4.5."
"But it's ridiculous!"
It didn't make any sense. It didn't. So there was a gay bloke who had some kind
of vendetta best expressed by high explosives and assault weapons, the brief had said.
And CI5 stood a chance of infiltrating his circle only if... only if...
Doyle flailed around for another excuse. "But why does it have to be Bodie?"
...Cowley shook his head. "I don't want anyone working on this operation alone.
Too risky. I need both of you, lads. Besides, the fastest way to have him approach you is
to have you very publicly, er--" he tripped over the slang term-- "out
yourselves."
"But... a wedding?" Concatenaton:Sineala

"My comrades and I--have something--very important to discuss with you,"
Georgi explained......"We are not returning to the Soviet Union. We wish to defect.....
That is our final decision."
"You know we can force you to go home," Doyle said.
"Yes, but I know that you will not."
"Eh?" Bodie raised an eyebrow. "Seem quite sure of yourself."
Georgi looked directly at Bodie, and after swallowing hard, he said, "We have had
much discussion, and we know you and Doyle are the ones who will help us. Because you are
like us. We know you both understand."
"Understand?" Doyle echoed. "Understand what?"
Georgi gave a faint smile. "What it is like to be homosexual. Gay, the word that is
sed in the West. Like you, we are gay men....."
State Secrets:LilyK

As Bodie watched, Doyle got out of his car, following the most recent arrivals through the gates. So far, he had seen a number of men go through there, but no one had yet come out. Everyone had been well dressed, as though for a night on the town. He came to the conclusion it was a drinking club. Ray was obviously out to get smashed....
It was ten o'clock before he began to suspect that the club was more than just a drinking
club. He'd been there for nearly two hours and while a lot of men had gone inside, he
hadn't seen one woman. Men Only then, he thought. But when he saw two couples emerge
from the club arm-in-arm, obviously in a hurry to get down to business, he finally realised
that the club was obviously a meeting place for homosexuals....
It was eleven forty-five by the time Doyle finally emerged. Bodie watched as he bumped into
the heavy gates and sprawled across the pavement, giggling helplessly. He was smashed all right, he could barely stand up. Bodie was about to go and rescue him when he realized that
omeone else was already there. He went cold as Doyle draped an arm around the other
man'shoulders. He hadn't considered the possibility of Ray leaving the club with someone. Ray wasn't gay..... Shades of Blue:Rob

There was a second, maybe a heartbeat of pure I can't believe this is happening,
shock, before adrenaline surged through his body, and he jerked back....... "What the
fuck?" He could still feel the warm imprint of the other man's lips on his.....
"Ooh, straight boy get in over his head? Decided you wanted it until you were getting
it?" "Fuck you. What the bloody hell are you talking about?" He couldn't
remember the last time he'd been this mad. He could barely hear Jerry through the pounding
in his ears.
"Good act, sweetie, as good as I've ever seen, but it's a little late
now, isn't it? You've been flirting with me since the gym. Looking me up and down,
sitting next to me, using those big eyes and that pretty smile....."
Stealing Home:Sandy K.Herrold

It was Bodie who broke the self-imposed tranquillity. "So what's the case then,
sir?" he asked.
"Ah, now that's the question," Cowley answered. "The woman who has just
graced us with her...inimitable presence is the head of the Watcher's Council, an
international organisation charged with protecting the world from the kind of beasties most
men only see in their nightmares."
"Like vampires?"
There was a quirk to Bodie's voice, the one he got when he didn't believe a word he
was saying. Doyle sat back in his chair to see how this elaborate wind-up would play out. The
next words out of Cowley's mouth would have knocked Doyle over if he hadn't
been so well planted in the chair. "Aye, laddie, or demons.. "
Deadly Intervention:Josey

"...you're not going to like it."
Doyle looked at him.
"The other night, when I had that dream." Pause. "It wasn't the usual
sort of thing..." Pause. "I dreamed there was a horse outside, only it wasn't
your regular Ascot horse, this thing was... just a skull. And ribbons. And a weird
sheet-thing, like a winding-cloth."
Doyle was too confused to even ask what a winding-cloth was. "You mean you...
you've heard of this before?"
Bodie shook his head. "No, like I said, it was just a dream. A bad dream."
"So you think this thing is real..."
"I didn't say that..."
Oh god... Suddenly it was too hot, too close inside.....How could Bodie believe something
like that?
Pwnco:Slantedlight

"Doyle? What the hell are you doing here?" In his astonishment, he barely
remembered to keep his voice down.
Doyle rose smoothly to his feet, glancing towards the oblivious Derek. Then he turned eyes
upon Bodie that seemed to glow in the dark and said, in an amazingly sultry whisper,
"Waiting for you." And he drew Bodie into a passionate embrace.
Still stunned, Bodie had only begun to realise that Doyle felt wonderful and tasted
better when he sensed something amiss near the small of his back. A moment later, Doyle
had drawn the gun from Bodie's waistband and was holding it pressed against his
ribs. Bodie could feel the safety being thumbed off. He swallowed, knowing there was
already a round in the chamber. "Now," Doyle breathed into Bodie's
ear, "you're not going to make a single sound. Got that?"
"Who the hell are you?" Bodie whispered, torn between passion and a
tearing sense of betrayal. It seemed Doyle was more than a simple drug addict
after all.
Learning Trust:Russ

At her smile a strange, formless pain twisted and turned within Doyle, coiling inside
his stomach in serpentine folds. The woman was so very, very British, sitting there calmly
sipping tea in the aftermath of an accident......resolutely making polite small talk with
strangers, grateful for their offer of assistance and looking on the bright side of things..
He swallowed heavily, ridiculously affected by her, the epitome of what he was fighting to
keep safe. 'Terry & June', lower middle class ordinariness personified, that in
response to calamity sat placidly drinking tea whilst her husband was away seeking help,
totally unconcerned about the possibility of danger. For what was there to fear? She was
in the middle of the English countryside, on her way to that most mundane of activities,
a caravan convention.
Safe, ordinary, boring. Doyle would die to keep it so.
Caravans:Mandragora

He pulled himself up, almost to attention, and looked Bodie straight in the eye. "I'
I've wanted to say this for years, never thought I would. Never thought there'd be a time
when I could." He took a deep breath. "Will you come to bed with me Bodie, please.
I want you so bad."

It was such a shock that for several seconds Bodie could not think what to say.. "Look
mate if you're feeling randy, you go out and find yourself a girl," he said. "
Hell, you're using Christopher's credit card, go out and buy yourself a girl. Or a
boy. Or a bloody emu come to that."

Doyle did not even smile. "I don't want anybody else," he said, with a lack of
emphasis that carried its own conviction. "I want you." And then the ultimate
betrayal.
"I always have."
Spring-Heeled Jack:Georgina Kirrin

"They found him, Bodie."" Cowley's voice was gravel. "He's in there."
"No." The word came out from his gut, forced and riding on a wave of adrenalin.
"I don't want to see him." Not now. He'd be cold and blue and frozen
and... rotting. After three weeks? No. Not now.
Something about Cowley's eyes might have softened - but it was probably more a trick
of the light. "Go in, Bodie. That's an order."
When Bodie began to shake his head, Cowley added, "He's expecting you."
"He's expecting..." Bodie's voice trailed off as his mind screamed to
a halt, emptied completely of all thought, all fear, everything. Time came to an end
there, and faded into nothing. He waited, suspended between moments.
And then time began once more and he took in a deep, desperate breath. His mouth barely
moving, he murmured, "He's... alive?"
Saints and Miracles:Jack Reuben Darcey

Bodie got the call in his office in the New Scotland Yard building. Top floor. Near the top
anyway. Top shelf. Near enough the ivory tower. Bright. Shiny. Concrete. Glass and steel
replacing flesh and bone. A monument to modern times. To new days. To new ways. The new
FBI. A new director. A new world.

Bodie listened. He replied. Mechanical. How could he be mechanical? About this?... Would
the agony be invisible in the dark? Would it flutter against the shuttering of his lids
-- the end of a film reel flapping in the machine? Waiting for someone to turn it off.
Could he blind himself? It would be blind leading the blind...

"Oh Christ, no... No. No. No."
Sunshine After Rain:Elspeth Leigh

"Is that where I come in?" Doyle asks.....

"Aye, Doyle. You always are quite astute.. Would you consider marrying the girl?
Giving her and her child a name? It won't affect your standing in CI5, and I'm
sure you would find her an amicable companion. The family also assures me that they
are financially secure and that you would share in that security. Furthermore, there
is no requirement that there be conjugals, but you're both adults. I'm
sure you can work out the details between you... "

Bodie feels his world falling out from under his feet. He wants to... shout at Cowley that
Doyle is not marrying any high society bint. Why is that? Cowley will ask. Because, Bodie
will respond, Doyle belongs to me.

But Bodie can't say those words. And he never will.
The Deal of a Lifetime:Lily K

"And this is your partner," George Cowley was saying. "William Bodie."
"Just Bodie, sir," his new partner said with a grin that was really more of a
smirk. Doyle had heard of Bodie. Everybody had. He'd been in the intake of agents
ahead of Doyle, but was already famous for being an arrogant bastard with a dislike of
coppers. No one had said what a gorgeous bastard he was, though, Doyle thought to
himself. Dark-haired, blue-eyed, and sleek...Doyle felt as if he were a street
urchin who'd been mistakenly invited to a formal dinner party.
Still, he'd never been one to judge a book by its cover. Maybe 'Just
Bodie' wasn't so bad.
"Ray Doyle," he said, and stuck out his hand.
Bodie looked at him, blinked, and then turned to Cowley without shaking his hand.
" Are you really partnering me with this oik?"
This Charming Man:PR Zed

A silver chain lay inside, curled round itself like a sinuous metal snake. Doyle plucked it
out and stared at it. Its small, cool links made his fingers feel big, warm, clumsy.
A man’s silver chain, for round your neck. No decoration, just endless links
together. He let it fall into his other palm, listening to the soft, satisfying sounds
of the metal against itself in the quiet of the room. His mouth had gone dry.

“Bodie, I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll wear it. Go on, it’s better than that steel one
you’re wearing!”

Doyle blinked hard.... He could not do this. He could not let his eyes get damp over
a Christmas present, no matter how thoughtful.
Christmas at Grantleigh:Hutchnystarsk

All day, his mind had run over what might be happening at CI5. There was no routine,
never any routine, so he could only guess. A briefing by Cowley; some research, perhaps, on
current cases... He found he missed it fiercely. Everything, from the smell of the wax on
the floors to the absurdities of the battle against crime.
More acutely, he missed Doyle. All day he had wanted to talk to him, tell him what was going
on, is conscious mind only one step behind the inclination... why did a small town in
Somerset make him think of Doyle? The answer hit him like a blow.
Midnight Clear:Amy Morgan

shooting2kill — Sat, 18 Apr 2015 10:42:04 GMT
Visions of Bodie & Doyle: desperate times (no, not the General Election....)

He scanned the immediate environment again. There! It looked like a roll of carpet. An
off-cut. Something tossed out the back of a van or thrown over a muddy puddle on a building
site to give underfoot some traction. Doyle didn't hesitate. He didn't think he hesitated.
In reality he was too wrecked to move at anything like his usual speed. What was it he was
seeing? Something in his brain started raising, comparing and discarding images for matches.
Inanimate object? No.
Animal? No.
Human? Yes, possibly.
Yes! Definitely!
Alive? Alive? Breathing? Were they breathing? Were they moving?
Searching through hell for Bodie:dollydaydream

Doyle was conscious of the two inches that separated them, the two inches that Bodie now
bridged only from necessity. Damn him! Doyle had never been more constantly aware of him.
Before, he had relaxed into their shared world, their shared existence, the two of them
working as one, their borders held in common, erected to keep others at bay. And now... now?
Now he had no idea what to think. Bodie had kept his word. On the job, he was as physical as
ever, brushing past Doyle without a qualm, guiding Doyle's foot firmly into place on precarious
ladders. Off the job, though, he was careful: glasses and mugs passed without a touch, injuries
bandaged deftly, and Doyle waiting... waiting for their two worlds to rejoin. Oh Bodie, what did
I do?.....Nine weeks, and Doyle's heart was slowly being choked. If anything, the intensity
between them had increased. Perhaps... Perhaps the constant connections had been a safe release.
Perhaps I misunderstood anyway. Perhaps he didn't really want that....
Longest Night:ML Mead

There was blood.....darkly black against the scuffed vinyl of the...seat. Doyle wanted to
touch it, because it was Bodie's, to have something of Bodie's against his skin, even if
it was his blood - even if it was the blood of a dead man.
No. Bodie wasn't dead. Think it, believe it, believe it.
The blood was thick, a patch rather than drops, and slightly smeared, as if perhaps Bodie
had been lying down and then got up, sliding the injury along the seat as he did so. It was
further than a head's-length from the side...maybe his shoulder? But then, if it was bleeding
that much it would have to hurt, so surely he'd have put his hand over it…
Unconscious then.
Bodie bleeding, unconscious....
On This Day in History:Slantedlight

He fades in and out between the steady beeps of the heart monitor, the whispered commands
of doctors and nurses. He thinks he hears Bodie and Cowley talking in the background, but
he could be imagining it just because he wants them to be here.....Bodie's always been
Cowley's man--*"Yes, sir. Running all the way, sir."*--except when Doyle's in trouble.
Then he's dark as the jungle. And just as determined. Would run right over the orders
and the rules if it meant Doyle's life.
This time, maybe it does.
Doyle wants to smile, but he's forgotten how to move the muscles on his face. His body
feels like someone else's, something he can only look at and never touch again. He tries
to focus on Bodie's voice....He wants to tell Bodie not to be afraid, but he can't. Bodie
wouldn't listen to him anyway. Never does.
One Can Only See:Lacey McBain

"Come on, Ray. How long has this been going on?" As if he couldn't guess.
Doyle's second attempt at speech was successful. "Started -- last week. Was just heavy
breathing at first and whispering my name. I -- I thought it was you, pratting about."
He hung his head, refusing to meet his mate's eyes, ashamed at the admission. Bodie was
too incensed to notice.
"When did he start with the heavy stuff?"
"Beginning of the week. It's been....."
"Why didn't you report it?"
That question did cause Doyle to look up. His bloodshot eyes were too bright and his mouth
compressed into a thin line. "Oh yes -- see how that would look on an official report. Agent
4.5 receiving obscene calls from a man. Please investigate. Great conversation for the rest
-room..."
"All right," Bodie soothed, "so you had your reasons for NOT reporting it. Why didn't you
tell me?"
Doyle gulped and lowered his eyes.... Man on the Line:Kazi

Just another job; just another day. But things had gone wrong, and it was the end of
Bodie's life. He knew that, instantly, when the trigger failed to pour out the expected
stream of slugs into his opponent; produced only a bewildered click, and then silence.
Bodie saw it all as if in slow motion: the man who faced him, crouching in a desperation
that was only now turning into speculation, hardening into a light of unlooked-for triumph
as he saw that Bodie was defeated......lifting his gun, focussing it on Bodie ten yards
away with no cover...It should all have been different, he thought deep in shock, it
should have been me where he is now. So death was finally here. For Doyle too, maybe;
Doyle would be here otherwise...He'd always known they would go together, him and Doyle....
Adagio:Sebastian

He took a deep breath, positioned himself, and stared through the scope into the office
on the other side of the road....Doyle’s finger tightened on the trigger and then relaxed
fractionally "It’s okay. You’ll do it.”
Bodie stood slightly behind him and to one side. Doyle felt his partner’s hand settle
lightly in the small of his back, grounding him, telling him that he was not alone. It
was a comfort. He took a deep breath, dropped his shoulders to steady himself and looked
through the scope of the gun again.
Two girls stood talking in front of the window. One of them laughed. The other looked out,
straight toward Doyle and he had to fight the urge to pull back, sure that she had seen him.
"Come on, come on …” he muttered.
“One minute.”
Doyle kept his eye on the window where their target would appear......
"Thirty seconds.” We Could Be In Skegness:alana_lerryn

Outside.....all was abruptly quiet but for the hissing and whirring of the wind across the
fens. Bodie spun around, Browning in hand, trying to hear something, anything...
"I don't like this..." Doyle said, voice low.
"Yeah... Where's it coming from?"
"And why'd they stop?"
They listened again, straining their ears against the wind. Time passed.
"They've gone by - must have."
"Where to?"
"Dunno, but I know where I'm going, mate..."
Mollycross:Slantedlight

“Open the door.....Or I swear I’ll kick it down, he needs a doctor.”
“Stand back. You stand back away from the door on the far side so I can see you.”
Doyle does as he’s told, standing loose limbed, light on his feet on the other side of the
room and I can see his chest rising and falling with his breath, his eyes narrowed and dark
now, waiting. I recognise his stance, seen it countless times in our working lives. He’s
readied himself to leap at the terrorist, risk the gun and he’s quick, I’ll give him that,
but not that quick, and he’s on his own. The only advantage I’ve ever had over my partner
is my weight, and the power behind it. And both are now useless.
I play dead.......
Doyle & Bodie - Touched Silver:Jaicen5 5

I drift back as I have a thousand times before to the moment when Johnny was ambushed,
not two feet away from me, killed instantly by a slug from Bodie’s weapon. The image replays
over and over and always, always in slow motion just to make sure I don’t miss a bloody thing;
the torment just doesn’t stop.
Johnny’s running; arm locked out in front of him, firing randomly at the unseen enemy, brave
but stupid, stupid and reckless.....
I’ll never forget that rock hard face and those piercing eyes as he ripped me from my
brother’s corpse, smoking gun in hand. The unsympathetic bastard dragged me away in cuffs,
no chance for sentimental goodbyes. My last glimpse of Johnny was his perfectly still body
in a halo of congealing blood.
His death meant nothing to Bodie; just another death in a long line of murders......
Today is pay day, time to settle the account Bodie my boy.
Revenge - Best Served Cold:ci5mates

"I still don't believe it. Ray is less likely to be a double agent than I am!"
"That I can believe, which is what I am trying to find out. The question is, are you?"
"You think... Ray and I... Oh Christ."
Cowley stared impassively back.
Bodie took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself. This was not the time to start getting
angry. "For what it's worth, Sir. I'm not."
"I appreciate your directness, Bodie," Cowley remarked, dryly, "However, in the circumstances,
you will appreciate that I don't take that as read, quite yet."
"And do you have any 'evidence' against me?"
Cowley shrugged. "All evidence against you is circumstantial at best. The most compelling
being your sexual relationship with Doyle...."
Flowers Never Bend:Andromeda

I can’t hear much over the clanging under my feet and can’t think over the clamour of my brain.
The stairway seems to last forever.....
On and on and on – time like tiny grains of sand escaping from the hourglass. Everything
just....slipping away....Something slipping away.
I don’t think I need to explain how numb the anger makes you when it burns and blazes and
takes control. Because I’m not the one in control now, it is. The anger and...I’d never admit
it but – the fear. The acidic, gut-wrenching fear.
How far could he have got with fully-grown whippet of a man – all wild curls and red fury in
his bones? How far could he have dragged him with the barrel to his head, shouting obscenities
down the stairs at us and laughing his stupid head off?
Further than I can believe. Further than I can handle....
Forever:Agent_Talis

Doyle was talking into static ''4.5, I've got him, now give us
some bloody space, I need to get him out of here...No sir, he's not alright...I'll try
sir, not sure how much he's hearing...Yeah, I think it would help if we could cut the
distance to the car...No sir, I want to take him home...No sir, he's not a danger, least
not to the general public...Of course I'm bloody sure...yes sir, sorry sir, I understand
that sir, but with all due respect, they're not the ones holding his bleedin' hand...
yes sir...of course not sir...yes sir ...mine sir, don't think his...yes sir, thank you sir.''
All the Perfumes of Arabia:fiorenza_a

"I can't figure this out. It can't have been a regular bomb - a pulse bomb and gas,
maybe? Take out the airplanes in the area, any cars with computerised systems, and then
gas to knock the rest of us out. But why this part of London? It doesn't..."
Bodie shook his head. "It's not just London."
"What?"
"A couple of the news stations are still up. I passed an electronics shop on the way
down here. France, Russia, America- - it's the same everywhere."
"Everywhere," Doyle echoed hollowly.
Simple Twist of Fate:Sarah K (tears_of_nienna)

Bodie knew he shouldn’t be there but he couldn’t stay away. It was the middle of the
night and no amount of rank pulling or concession to circumstance would have allowed Bodie
ntrance to the hospital, much less to Doyle at such an hour. So, it was through the back
entrance, through the stores and the laundry, past the morgue that froze his blood, up the
service stairs and through a window that led Bodie to the small platform above Doyle’s
hospital room. He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there but his hands were
starting to burn from his grip of the metal handrail. The feeling comforted Bodie; the
physical pain somehow soothing the emotional one.
As Bodie stood there high above Doyle, hearing the whoosh-clunk of the ventilator and
watching his partner’s chest rise and fall he began to feel as if an invisible thread was
connecting them....
God Complex:Pretending2BeMe

There is a deafening scream of brakes as Bodie takes the corner wide throwing me against the passanger door.
“Don’t lose them!” I yell, the Cortina before us disappearing into the distance. “Don’t....
intend to.” Bodie’s face is set with grim concentration, intent on persuing our quarry as
we are led away from the outskirts of London. The streets quickly peter out into more open
countryside and still the Brayshaw brothers ahead of us show no sign of slowing down....
“How’s the petrol doing?”
Bodie glances at the dial. “Not good. We’re nearly out.....”
“4-5 to base. Still in pursuit of the Brayshaws. We need back up...."
Survival of the fittest:Wilsden

"Have you got them all, do you think?" asked Bodie, knowing if he couldn't do his job it
wouldn't matter. "Everyone in isolation who could possibly spread this thing?"
"Aye, we think so," said Cowley grimly. "But it's rather like closing the barn door after
the horses have bolted. There no telling..."
"What about the doctors? Are they any closer?" Bodie asked, and then wished he hadn't. If
the answer was no, he didn't want to hear it....
"Bodie..." Cowley began. "I'm sure he'd like to see you. You know there'd be no danger; he's
completely isolated. You could--"
"I have four more passenger identifications to run down," said Bodie, preempting whatever
Cowley had to say. "And a meeting with one of the airline's hostesses who was not on that
flight. I'm going to know more about the dead girl and her mate Edward than their own mums
before I sleep. I'll be around... How is he?"
Cowley looked down....
"Tick tock," said Bodie...... Doyle's War:Pandora Bachs

He recognised the vision stalking towards him, although in a vastly different state to
this present one. Before he’d been mellow, tipsy, half dozing over his drink in the booth,
no real pattern to his visits. Harmless, Gavin had thought, a man down on his luck and looking
for solitary company as so many did these days. God not now. Now he looked like the devil
incarnate, eyes narrowed with anger and menace, he vaulted the counter, crowding Gavin up
so that the sharp jabbing in his lower back escalated to full blown pain and his face came
close, mean.
“Where is he?”
“What the hell…” As if he hadn’t had enough of a hard time already. “I don’t...”
“Where is Doyle? Ray Doyle?” The hands in his shirtfront pushed back unmercifully and Gavin gave a low groan of agony....
“They took him, I don’t know where…” Gavin stammered out. “I don’t know anything.”
“When?” the man snarled. “How long ago? Who took him?” A Target Disguised:Jaicen5

They beat him with their cudgels. He held on as long as he could. He felt his ribs break,
and knew there was blood running down his head. He felt consciousness fading. Somehow he was
lying on the floor again, and they were kicking him. They slammed his face into the floor,
holding him down, hands on his wrists and ankles, and hands, too, spreading his buttocks. It
wasn't hands that fucked his arse, and he wept with the pain of it, though he tried to stop.
It didn't end there. There was more pain to come, more humiliation, more things for them to
do to him - to his cock, to his feet, to his mouth. He shouted curses, spitting blood, unable
to move even when they let go of his arms and legs and used their fists to hit him again, and
again. The light faded to darkness, and a sort of tense, pained isolation. He was in a void
of sharp and wandering pain centred on his genitals. His voice had gone, and he was still
screaming.
When he opened his eyes, it was to a dream of Doyle... Rent Boy: Elizabeth Holden.

shooting2kill — Mon, 09 Mar 2015 21:31:00 GMT
A little bit about Lewis

I thought this link might interest some of you. It comes from the blog of Barney James, an actor who played one of the German terrorists in Close Quarters. I came across it a couple of days after Lewis died and have only just rediscovered it:

https://barneyjames.wordpress.com/2013/12/04/dedicated-to-lewis-collins/

[Added on the next day: just realised from the reply to the blog that Barney James was also in Derek Jarman's beautiful film, Sebastiane.]

shooting2kill — Thu, 08 Jan 2015 16:28:47 GMT
Visions of Bodie & Doyle:
A tribute to the 2014 Big Bang

Another big 'thank you' to everyone involved in the making of the 2014 Big Bang: writers, artists, moderators, cheerleaders....I loved the stories and artwork of the fifth (is it really the fifth?) Challenge and your hard work is very much appreciated.

Bodie; tall, dark and disconcerting. Capable of charming with platitudes one minute and bringing down with a cool jibe the next. A man of so many contradictions that Doyle hadn’t yet been able to figure him out. Ex-sailor, ex-soldier, ex-paratrooper, ex-SAS; and if half the rumours about him were true, ex-mercenary. Doyle wondered how he could have fitted all that into such a relatively short life. The rumour mill also had it that Bodie was no ordinary recruit, that he was a mole, sent in undercover to spy on the other hapless recruits and report their ineptitudes back to Cowley, maybe even to throw the proverbial spanner in the works just to see their reactions. His general disdain and the jaundiced eye he seemed to cast over the other mere mortals in the group just fed the paranoia. But if it were true, and Doyle wouldn’t have been surprised at such evidence of Cowley’s machinations, it would at least explain why he was such a general prick. What worried him, with only six of them now left, was that he could very well end up with being partnered with said prick for this next exercise.
Cold Water Morning:Fictionwriter

"An undercover agent in East Germany has offered....some highly important intelligence. It seems the East Germans are willing to trade it for a favour – the assassination of one of their own disgraced agents here in Britain.” He stopped and looked at Doyle. “They also want the man who killed Martin Cleff.”
“Van Neikerk is dead.”
“The East Germans don’t know that.”
“So you want me to be Van Neikerk again......" He didn’t like where this was going....
Cowley studied his agent. “There’s more to this than I’m being told, and I don’t like it. There’s a very real danger to you, Doyle. I want you to think on that before you agree to this....” Scenes from a Partnership:Merentha13

Finally the noise of latches moving came, and then the door was being pulled open, and Bodie
blinked in surprise.
The young woman pushed her glasses higher up her nose and smiled...."He asked me to let you in.
You are Bodie, I suppose, and not a door-to-door axe-murderer?"
"Bodie," Bodie affirmed, and cleared his throat. She was not so especially attractive as to
make him stumble in the normal way of things – oddly dressed in a lumpy off-purple batik smock,
her feet bare and her wrists disappearing under wooden bangles - but he'd not expected this. Really
not expected Ray to have a girlfriend.
"I'm Cozy," she told him, and laughed at his expression. "Yes, I know. It's 'Cosette', really.
My parents are huge fans of Victor Hugo.....
Bodie acknowledged all this with a nod......either she had no interest in Ray, or had been with
him long enough to stop making a particular effort....
Half As Much As I Do:Halotolerant

“Bodie snorted. "The DSTI? Since when do civil servants down on Victoria Street get to dabble
with state secrets?”
“That's enough, 3-7,” snapped Cowley. “Your uninformed opinion on this matter is not what we
re here to listen to.........”
“Didn’t think we had any secrets worth nicking anymore, that's all,” he muttered.
“And when was the last time you read the Financial Times, 3-7?”
“When they stopped giving the racing tips, sir,” rejoined Bodie, straight-faced.......
“Well, laddie…” began Cowley, but Sir Allen put up a restraining hand.
“Oh, it's all right, Cowley. I'm not at all surprised that ... ah, Bodie, is it?.... Bodie
subscribes to the notion flogged by any number of our tabloids that Great Britain is no longer
great and no longer leads the world in anything but industrial disputes and football vandalism.” A Put-Up Job:Unbelievable2

It was a free afternoon and he ran his errands: laundry, groceries, new socks. He had been
distracted when he left his flat and completely forgot to set the locks properly....Bodie was
at the forefront of his mind and he had walked off without checking the door....
When he returned with his purchases in his arms, he had walked into his lounge without a
moment's hesitation. His wandering brain hadn't registered the fact that the door was easily
opened with one key instead of two. Walking into the living room, he had been so caught up
in his musings that when he saw the woman from the junk shop where he'd bought a gold ring and
a terrarium, he was more curious than frightened....
Doyle clearly remembered asking her, "How'd you get in here?". He also clearly remembered her
dropping the ring from her left hand and raising her right arm. That was when he saw the glint
of gold in her grasp....His reaction to seeing the silenced gun was non-existent. She'd fired
before he took another breath.
If Bodie hadn't been so damned arrogant, Doyle wouldn't have been shot...
Head Games:LilyK

"How long apart are the contractions?” He ignored the ‘shit’ he heard from behind him, keeping
his eyes firmly on Gerda’s face.
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Behind her anger, he could see the fear on her face.
“Look, love. I know we’re not exactly your favourite people, but at the moment we’re all
you’ve got.” He reached out a hand and gently laid it alongside hers. It said something about
her fear that she didn’t automatically push it away. Bodie could feel her tense as another
contraction took hold, and took her hand in his....
“About twenty minutes apart.” Gerda spoke quietly......
“We need to find somewhere..... There isn’t much time.”
Doyle straightened his coat and turned the collar up. He handed them both some chocolate,
and slipped another packet into his pocket.
“I’ll be as quick as I can....”
Storm Force: Marjoram_Max

"The stars."
"Oh. Right. Yeah. A lot of them."
Bodie had been looking directly at Doyle. Now his stance didn't change, but his eyes seemed
to slide through Doyle, gazing beyond. The light and shadow on his face seemed to soften.
"Moved around a lot, I did. Sometimes in cities, sometimes in little villages. Once or twice
in the middle of nowhere. Night comes down suddenly there. Compared with here, at the equator
it's like turning off a light. Well, a very slow light. And then it's pitch dark. Or it would be
if it wasn't for the stars. They're just..." He indicated a semicircle with his arm. "Everywhere
in the sky. Thousands. There's entire pale patches up there, and the stars themselves are huge.
Burning. And when the moon is there..." He shook his head. "You could probably read a book by it.
You can certainly take a compass bearing. Did that often enough. Not just in Africa..."
Doyle listened intently, watching Bodie's face. Why did Bodie always have to reveal pieces of
himself at the most inconvenient times? Whistle Blower:ML Mead

Doyle saw Featherstoneheugh nod, ever so slightly, and Bill and Ben or whoever they were set off
towards the unaware student. Their movements seemed casual but with a clearly co-ordinated walk
past they managed to nudge him first one way and then the other and then, Doyle saw, he was down
on the grass and the two thugs were putting the boot in. The most sickening part, Doyle thought,
was that nobody stopped them, nobody even spoke, and he himself could not break cover to protect
this young man from the vicious and mindless racism of this group. When the lad was curled in a
ball, trying to protect his face, the books were carefully trodden into the flower bed, forming
an inharmonious blur in the planting. And the bodyguards simply sauntered back to their leader's
side, smiling as they came. Doyle wondered if it had been the same in Hitler's early days in Germany..... South Coast:moth2fic

Bodie felt his empty stomach begin to crawl. A cold sweat broke out under his hairline which
was nothing to do with his hangover. He knew he was looking at something – or rather, someone –
he recognised......(He) still recognised the distinctive eyes, the boyish, soft-lipped mouth.
Echoes came in flashback, faded imprints of intensity. A buzz at the base of his spine, a faint
grasp and relax in his balls.
Oh no no no. Nononononono. Not possible. Not last night’s catastrophe.
“You all right?” he vaguely heard Doyle say.......Doyle’s voice was low. The timbre was
nsistent....There was a brief pressure under his elbow, getting his attention.
No Mere Abstraction:JoJo

He still couldn't believe how easily they'd taken him, already dark outside.....two bruisers
had jumped him from behind. They'd had his hands tied behind his back and had stuffed him into
a transit van before he'd had time to think....
He'd focused on stifling his panic, a very natural response to having a sack shoved over his
head but one he couldn't afford. The calmer he was the more likely they were to think he'd
already resigned himself to being taken prisoner and he had to be ready if he got any opportunity
at all to break free...
When the van finally stopped he was unceremoniously bundled out....and then led through what
he guessed must be a warehouse....
When they dragged the sack off his head his suspicions about their location were confirmed.
This could be his chance as one of them would have to get close enough to put the gag on him.
That train of thought came to an end when a gun muzzle pressed against his temple. Under My Skin:Draycevixen

“How long have they had him?”
“He was taken at least sixteen hours ago,” Cowley replied.
“What makes you think he’s still alive?” asked Bodie. “If the Russians know he has the name of
their man on the inside, they’ll kill him and everyone he might have told.”
“Because they'll think he's a spy, and they'll want to interrogate him first,” said Cowley.
“That should keep him alive... for a while, at least..Once they realise he's of no use to them,
then they’ll kill him,” said Cowley. “We need to get him out of Afghanistan and safely back here
before that happens.”
“Yeah, so you can get the name of your mole,” said Bodie. “Look, I’ve been out of the game for a
year, why me?”
“...You were one of the best.”
Standing on the Edge of Forever:Angelci5

“If Verity is mine or yours—what if she’s not the only bastard either of us whelped?”
“You’re a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, aren’t you?” Bodie wanted to slug something or
kick the wall, none of which would do a bit of good. They had more important matters at stake namely Ruth in the hospital and assailants after them all. Coming to blows wouldn’t help. “Ray, one month later you were…”
“Shot,” Doyle exhaled as if the single word had sucked the air out of his lungs. Much like the
bullets had done.
“And I wasn’t thinking of much else for a good while.” During those first few days when Doyle lay at death’s door, it was a wonder that Bodie had been able to think clearly at all. Not to mention run down the location of the woman who’d shot Doyle. His emotions had been all over the place, terror and anger mixed in equal portions with anguish. Just recalling early December of 1980 could still put him in a cold sweat. It occurred to him belatedly that his love for Raymond Doyle had started way back then—that the threesome with Ruth and the fourth forgettable girl had been the first taste of what he now craved. And he’d very possibly fathered a child. It was a lot to comprehend. Verity's One of Us:Dawnwind

What if Bodie wasn’t in? He’d have to do all this again. What if he had a secretary at this
posh place? He thought about that as his hands found the card, and the coins. She’d be blonde
and gorgeous, he knew. He gritted his teeth as the dial rotated back around from the final
number. There was a pause, then the ringing tone.
Would he pick up? Would he know it was Doyle? Would he know what Doyle wanted, or would he have
to spell it out? What if…?

There was a click as the receiver was picked up. The pips rang out, and he fumbled his money
into the slot with shaking fingers. A voice answered.

‘Bodie.’

‘Hello, sunshine.....’
Half Past The Point Of No Return:Murphybabe

“Shall we make conversation?” Bodie gestured discreetly towards the women. He wasn’t in the
mood, to be honest, but it was Doyle’s night.
Doyle shook his head. “Gone off birds,” he said. Doyle played it for a smile, but Bodie
thought there was some truth behind it. It would take some time for Doyle to get over Kathie.
“Ah, well.” Bodie looked around, hoping to amuse Doyle. “How about that fella, then?” He
nodded towards a balding, paunchy man at the bar.
Doyle rolled his eyes. “Not my type.”
“Oh, you have a type?”
“Haven’t we all?” Doyle gave him a sidelong look.
Bodie’s stomach tightened as lust pierced through him. Thank God he had mastered the art
of the poker face. “Oh, yeah?” Was Doyle unaware or playing, or....? What’s yours, then?”
Fuck — unwise.
“Oh, too dangerous,” Doyle murmured, as if he’d heard Bodie’s thoughts Condition of Employment:PFL

Mr Bodie remembered the conversation he had engaged in with Mr Doyle while at the ball. Was it
just last evening? Good Lord. Mr Doyle had said his chances were scuppered. That could mean so
many varied things, possibilities were countless. It was only wishful dreaming on his part to
believe that it meant the same as what he declared. Hellfire! He had said it out loud, quite
blunt, in fact. The love that dare not speak its name. What was he thinking?
Mr Doyle had been surprised, he remembered that clearly. It was a wonder that Mr Doyle hadn't
thrashed him. Gentlemen just didn't speak of such oddities aloud. Even though he was loath to be
called a gentleman, he knew that both he and Mr Doyle were of that ilk. They were not crass
enough, even at their worst, to be anything less.
Cowley's Inscrutable Five:KrisserCI5

"I suppose you were in there to add to the capitalistic tendencies of the British shopper, were
you?”
Doyle’s face turned slightly red......“Nah, I was just looking for a birthday present.”
Bodie was stunned. It was his birthday in a few weeks and Doyle almost got himself killed,
buying him a pressie? Bodie had seen many gut-wrenching things in Africa and other parts of
the world, but the spasm that hit his entrails at that moment threatened to send him to the loo.
Fury crossed his handsome face. “You dumb crud, you took on five of the baddies, just to get
a birthday present?”
“Well, Justin’s birthday’s coming up soon, and I don’t get much time off.” Doyle stopped there
as he saw the devastated look on Bodie’s face....When Hope Despairs:lbc

shooting2kill — Sun, 03 Aug 2014 10:17:37 GMT
Visions of Bodie & Doyle:
'The past is a foreign country': memories lost and found

He could still remember the smell of wet bracken, the stench of oil from the wrecked motorcycles,
the pain in his shoulder and the taste of fear in his mouth as he had realised that he was alone,
with a band of ruthless men about to spring their trap around him.
Enrico Krivas...
It would have been so much simpler if Bodie had killed him....
Cowley still did not know the reasons for the hatred between Krivas and one of his top operatives,
but he did remember Bodie, his clothes torn and his skin bruised and streaked with blood, helping
Doyle drag an unconscious Krivas to the waiting car, and the wolf's- head grin on his battered
face as he said, "Resisted arrest, didn't he?" before flinging him into the rear seat.
He remembered the trial, too, and Krivas' eyes never leaving Bodie's face, eyes black with the
rage and hatred that never clouded his expression or his voice, eyes that promised death.....
Tiger by the Tail:Lilian_Shepherd

"Macklin says you are quite impressive in tumbling routines both on the ground and on the
fixed trapeze."
"Surely that doesn't surprise you?"
Cowley drew a noncommittal face. "Perhaps it does. After all, it has been ten years since
you worked with the circus.....Have you heard of Circus Sergei?"
"No."
"We have reason to believe that it is being used as a way station for IRA armaments and
explosives."
"Donal O'Shea......"
"That's right. And although I would prefer not to send you into an operation that might
involve him, I don't have another agent who has your abilities."
"And which abilities," Doyle drawled inquiringly, "might those be?"
"Aerial and equestrian......"
Harlequin Airs:Ellis Ward

Bodie.
FuckinghellJesusfuckingChristnohe'sdead
fuckinghellhe'sdeadnonono!
Bodie.
Alive?
"No!" Thought came to an abrupt halt, his mind ceasing all operation as his entire world
stopped dead.
But... it had to be a mistake.
It had to be.
Had to be
Bodie?
His tortured lungs screamed for mercy and he heaved in an almighty breath. For long seconds,
his heartbeat raced dangerously as his eyes stared at nothing at all.
Willis had lied.......
The Tangled Web:Jack Reuben Darcey

Cowley leant forward so that his face was finally in the light.
"Aye, that's it. Don't worry yourself about the warehouse. That all happened a while ago."
"Yeah? How long?"
"About four years ago."
Doyle gave a derisive snort. "I suppose you'll be telling me you didn't suspend me either."
"Not recently - despite the temptation. Not since your involvement with Miss Holly in fact."
"Then what - ? Am I cracking up?" Doyle felt no more than an academic interest.
"No. Just living in the past. You've a high-grade fever. You've been delirious. Memories are
notoriously unreliable at such times...."
"Rambling and all?"
"Rambling and all," confirmed Cowley, his voice rich with reassurance.
Doyle thought about it......"Well I'm buggered. I thought I felt odd...."
Knife-Edge:hgdoghouse

Bodie always knew Doyle was a wizard when it came to memory.
He could remember license plates and badge numbers with nothing more than a glance.
Remembered them for at least a month afterwards, too, as Bodie had found out the time he
asked Ray to look up the plates of that red convertible again.....Doyle had rattled off
the numbers, and Bodie stared at him..... Yes, when it came to numbers, Doyle had an
excellent memory. Bodie had........wanted to test just how far Doyle’s memory went. He
had a key to his partner’s place, and it was no trouble to sneak in one day....
Tests:Hutchynstarsk

He walked into the bedroom and picked up the receiver, barking in a brisk “Hello?” waiting
for the caller to identify themselves....
“Hello,” a male voice answered – a posh, businesslike tone. “I’m sorry to be the bearer
of bad tidings, Mr Bodie...”
“I’m not...” Ray began, but not quickly enough, his reactions slowed as his mind tried to
focus.
“I’m one of the doctors at the James Cook Hospital in Teeside” the man continued,
steam-rollering over the objection, “where I’m sorry to say your wife has just died.”
Ray, holding the phone tightly to his ear, was aware of making the occasional vague
assertive noise, probably indistinguishable from those of stunned grief, as he tried
to make sense of what he was hearing. Words were coming through the phone, words that
did not make sense...
Bodie’s wife? This Week It Rained:Halotolerant

"Funny times, those, in Africa," said Bodie thoughtfully. "The day of the white imperialist
was over but there were men like Krivas, power- hungry, getting and keeping power over people,
not territories...He was like a little dictator of his band, hand-picked men. They were good.
They were very good...Tough men. All owned by Krivas. As I was."
"Owned?"
"Oh, Christ, yes. Contracted. He had absolute power over all of us. Disobedience, however
slight, was punished with an iron hand. He wasn't a sadist, but he was a hard man. Did what
he had to, to keep his authority over us."
Doyle tried to imagine Bodie putting up with this sort of thing. He couldn't. Bodie was as
independent a soul as any he'd met. "How'd you cope?" He asked.......
"I thrived on it, Doyle. I chose it. I wanted it. Hell, this was Krivas."
Krivas:Elizabeth Holden Roses and Lavender 1

Someone had set up one of the ancient projectors, and dug out rolls of their old training
films.......London, some time in the late seventies he thought, if those trousers were
anything to go by - Christ, had he really worn flares that wide? Vague memories flooded
through him, sights and sounds and even smells. Cowley'd blocked off two whole streets
around some buildings that had been scheduled for demolition, had sent them off to stage
an Operation Digger - a gang of ten or a dozen somewhere under street level.....
"Watch out!" someone shouted at the screen, and the room burst into laughter, the unlucky
sod - was it Kevin from Tactical? - pushed and shoved good-naturedly to and fro. From the
corner of his eye Doyle saw what was happening on the film though, and his heart quickened
in memory, in anticipation, in... *something*. Bodie was there, looking incredibly young,
Bodie the way Doyle still saw him......Who Caught and Sang the Sun:Slantedlight

He was deep into the pros and cons of the situation when he heard a voice call out, "Ray! Ray
Doyle!" He turned to see a short man with shorter hair rapidly approaching. There was a grin on
the face, so Doyle relaxed and waited. "What you doing here, old son?"
"Seeing the sights," Doyle responded....He looked at the man carefully, and the stranger's brown
eyes confirmed their harmlessness.
"Haven't seen you in years. Not since the Met. You went to CI5, didn't you?"
"Yeah."
"Still there?"
"Leave-of absence," explained Doyle.
"Lucky dog. You don't look ill?" the man gently probed, seemingly unaware of the other's
restrained manner....
"Healing," was how Doyle answered. If the man knew of CI5, he'd know the risk of asking
questions which oughtn't be.
Forgetting Doyle:Natasha Barry

Seven years! Seven long years, and finally the first real lead that he'd had. He looked again
at the grainy black and white newspaper photo. Was it him? Could it be? It had to be! It wasn't
full-face, but even at an angle and with the hair so different...still some things don't change
and some flaws stand out for anyone looking to see. His mind argued that it could just be a shadow
but he knew that he had to see for himself. Good or bad he had to know for sure.
Alone in the Wilderness:Elessar

"Didn't mean to go and get kidnapped...Just wish I could remember what the hell happened, so I
don't make the same mistake again."
At those words, Bodie felt an ice-cold chill form in his gut. He didn't remember... "You don't
know how you got captured?"
"No." Doyle slowly shook his head. "Don't remember anything...there's this big blank spot...last
thing I recall, we'd just finished up the Stanton op, and you and me walked out of HQ heading for
your car. That's it. Everything else from that evening is gone......"
Oh, Christ....Bodie closed his eyes for a moment, wishing this could all go away, wishing they
could go back in time and start over. He didn't remember that night. Doyle didn't remember about
the kiss--fucking hell. The last thing he wanted was to jog Doyle's memory for him....
Bodie took a deep breath and said carefully, "Well, we went to the Scarsdale Arms and had a
pint....."
"Doesn't ring any bells," Doyle said.
If Memory Serves:Alexandra

He'd been in this position before, of course: waiting to find out if Bodie was living or dead. But
this time he couldn't help thinking about another summer night, another heat wave, another partner.
Syd Parker had died on a night like this, shot down by a villain as PC Ray Doyle had waited downstairs..
Even all these years later, he could still remember hearing the first
gunshot, could remember running up the stairs, truncheon clutched uselessly in his hand,
heart pounding in his chest. He could remember bursting through that door and finding Syd's
body, and Fitch's, in the flat. Could remember how gutted he'd felt, even as his training had
taken over and he'd pursued Bill Haydon to his home.
Syd's death had hurt Doyle, hurt him badly, but how much more would Bodie's death wound him?
Syd had been a good partner, a mentor, a friend, but Bodie was everything to him: partner and
friend; protector and responsibility. Lover.
The Sweat of His Brow:PR Zed

"Bodie, Doyle loves you."
"I know, but he loves her, too."
"That was in the past. Finished....."
"Like you finished with Annie Irvin?"
Cowley looked at him for a long moment, then nodded, conceding the point. "But that is different,
lad...It took seeing her again, and even then it took quite awhile for me to understand, but it
wasn't merely the woman I loved -- it was the times."
"The times?"
"Aye. I've devoted my life to serving my country, Bodie, and I have few regrets about that, but
it also has made my years at university very precious.......The Annie Irvin that I loved was a
time and a place as much as a woman. I cannot help but love that memory for the rest of my days,
but the woman alone is not someone who I would want in my life now."
Faces from the Past:Annehiggins

"What the hell are you on about?"
Christ. It had simply never occurred to Doyle that Bodie might genuinely not remember what
had happened. That he wasn't pretending...
"Had a bit of a snog. You really don't remember?"
Bodie's eyes widened. "You kissed me? Have you gone bloody bent on me?"
Nonchalance flew out the window. "Wasn't one-sided, mate! You kissed me back!"
"The hell I did."
Doyle gave him a long, hard look. "I wouldn't have wanted to talk about it if it had been
one-sided."
Bodie stared back, features set, unreadable......"Was drunk, wasn't I? Must've been confused,
thought you were a bird."
"No." Doyle refused to let it go. "You said my name....."
On a Hot Summer Night:Alexandra

...try as he might...he could not forget the night he had spent making love to Doyle.
If you could call it that. More a night of crazed, delirious lust than love, fucking each
other's brains out....
He couldn't quite remember how it began, he would have sworn he was too drunk to even get it
up, much less...
Wrong again, sunshine.
Even now his memory was a bit spotty. He just remembered the violent intensity of it.
Doyle had grinned rather sheepishly at him in the morning, bleary-eyed and hungover. Bodie
grinned back, acknowledging the absurdity, and their eyes locked in a silent pact never to
speak of the incident.
Life went on as before.
But Bodie kept thinking about it.......
Sanctuary:Thomas

“OK, sir, you’ve done well to hold out this long but let’s hit the nail on the head shall we?”
Doyle tried to look blank.
“You’ve no idea who you are, have you?”
Doyle sighed. The man was right. He couldn’t get away with it forever. He just shrugged apologetically.
“There’ll be something in my pocket won’t there?” Doyle suggested hopefully.
“Unfortunately, when you were found, you’d been robbed. Not only your pocket contents
but the thief or thieves also took your jacket and shoes. We’ve been treating you for
mild hypothermia as well as a hairline skull fracture.”
“How long have I been here?”
“Nearly a week now.”
Doyle was shocked. He’d only been awake and taking notice for a couple of days. “And
you still don’t know who I am?” The doctor started to shake his head apologetically
when Doyle continued, “So there hasn’t been an army of concerned friends and relatives
hammering on your door or pestering the police about a missing person, then?” It
certainly didn’t make Doyle feel good about himself. Borderland:Sylvie Orp

He did feel marginally better, though. He found he could sit up, make it to the bath, and
splash water over his face. He saw the blood crusted on his forehead and wondered vaguely
what had happened. The headache was at least bearable now, not as painful as his side at
least. Although he couldn't remember his head hurting quite this badly --
He stopped abruptly......
What was the thought he'd just had? He couldn't remember a headache this bad ...
He couldn't remember a ... Christ, he couldn't remember.
Shaking, he leaned against the wash basin, panic inching in.
Couldn't remember. Couldn't remember.....
Forget That I Remember, and Dream That I Forget:Pamela Rose

The men fell silent. Foster. Williams. Ram…Ramsey. They were just names. He couldn't put
faces to them. He had no feelings about them. He tried to think back to the warehouse but
his mind skittered away, out of control. It was presenting him with images he couldn't
interpret. He was breathing too fast. It wasn't safe to panic—had to slow it down.
Stay cool. There was a sudden voice in his head—an echo he couldn't identify. Yet it
helped. Calm down. Think. Go back. He was…. He was…. Oh, Christ. He didn't know his
own name. He — Ray? He clamped his mouth shut...The driver, Williams, had called
him Ray. Ray. He was Ray. He was in...London. He knew that. He was…was…. Everything
else was a blank. Fuck, fuck. Oh, God. Stay cool. He took in a deep breath......
He opened his mouth to ask them—maybe they'd help— But then he swallowed his words,
and stared ahead...Maybe he had known these men, but he didn't remember them. He
couldn't trust them. Lines:PFL

“Wasn’t expecting that,” Bodie said....

“She was called Mary,” Ray said quietly.....“His wife died of pneumonia when he
was in Spain in the Thirties, Mary went to his parents but died too before he got
back. He never saw her.”

Bodie took the photograph, the thin woman and the baby in black and white, staring
out at posterity without any evident expectation. “I didn’t know.” His voice had
lowered, his posture loosened. His lips still looked like they always had, dejected
even when he was happy......
“Didn’t know Cowley well at all. But he left me all this stuff, personal stuff, I
don’t...I don’t understand.” Unexpected:Halotolerant

*Him*, *him*, *him*, his heart sang, and pounded against his chest.
Doyle.
He’d found him, this was where he lived. Bodie’s heart lurched at the thought.....
God, it was Doyle.
He didn’t look any different, at least not from this distance...Perhaps it would show
in his face, in his eyes, but his walk was just as strong, just as easy as ever. His
shoulders too - he’d always had that way of moving as though everything was connected
in just the right way, each muscle, each tendon flowing smoothly, in perfect time, with
the next. As though everyone else had just been practicing the way to move, but he,
Raymond Doyle, was the one who’d got it right.
These Layers of Charnel Air:Slantedlight

“You think I kissed you because Ann threw me over?”
*I kissed you.*
Until that moment he’d forgotten about the kiss. Blanked it out completely. Total amnesia
like in a bad spy film. And how could that be because that kiss -- for one instant --
had rocked his world. That press of Doyle’s mouth on his, Doyle’s mouth cool and soft and
tasting of lager and something intimately and intrinsically Doyle.
Not shy exactly....but tentative. Hopeful maybe? But trusting too. Doyle confident he
wasn’t going to be handed his teeth back like so many marbles in a game he’d lost. Because
of course Doyle knew -- knew his kisses would -- should -- be welcome here.
But Bodie inexplicably, after the first delighted shock of response, had astonished them
both by rejecting Doyle.
The Wish I Wish Tonight:JGL

The room had only a single occupant who must obviously be Doyle. The man was standing by
an open window......A light breeze carried in the sounds of the street below and from his
viewpoint in the doorway all that Bodie could see was a slim figure in well-worn jeans
with a head of brown curls. The bright Spring sunshine reflected on gently blowing curls
and Bodie caught his breath as an image from another lifetime washed through him.
*...a chestnut halo...the face of an angel...*
All at once he was transported back as memories crowded his mind. He could feel the heat
of the African night, hear the sounds of the chirruping insects in the bush and taste the
warm, wet tongue of the man who had, for a few short hours, made him feel complete.....
Bodie whispered, "Ray?"
The man at the window swung around.....
The Missing Piece:Cassidy Collins

shooting2kill — Wed, 19 Feb 2014 13:25:32 GMT
Visions of Bodie and Doyle:
"Here's looking at you, kid":the art of observation

As he crossed the hallway, Doyle, in the sitting room, looked up from the magazine
he’d found to read. That was all he did. He looked at Bodie. Just looked, his expression
enigmatic. Bodie in turn stopped, and returned stare for stare, looking right into those
remarkable green eyes.
Eyes like none he had ever seen. The whole world was in those eyes.......
Caught up in the velvet green stare, he found his breath short, his mind short-circuited,
his heart melting and his cock stirring.
Dangerous, this.
Forever True:Fajrdrako (Elizabeth Holden)

....why was Ray glaring at him like an angry tiger?
"Ray?" he said.
"Yeah?" Doyle's gaze was uncommonly direct. Huge green eyes hypnotized, if you let them.
Eyebrows were knit, eyes inimical.
"Still up to the party after?"
"What party?"
"It's New Year's Eve. You forget?"
Ray blinked...."Bloody hell. Is it still?" He hesitated. "You want to go?"
Simple words. But as he said them, he looked again at Bodie, and Bodie realized that the
tiger wasn't angry. The tiger was hungry.
Doyle scowled at him with a voracious stare that devoured him and melted his bones, made
his soul ache, made his mind focus into trembling awareness. The Best:Elizabeth Holden/fajrdrako

....suddenly Bodie's head lifted and he gazed straight into the mirror and then
rapidly scanned the entire room.
Doyle held his breath, expecting and wanting those seeking eyes to find him. But they
didn't. Instead, a closed look came about them, a blankness of expression,
accompanied by the swift jerking of the throat as Bodie swallowed....
as he moved, Bodie's expression changed, and he swept the room again, his eyes
comprehensively searching each face and figure....
Rooted to the spot, Doyle observed sudden awareness on the goodlooking face as the
dark gaze locked with someone out of his vision.
Doyle watched, heart sinking, as the eyes began an absorbed survey of whoever had
caught their interest; they moved very slowly, very clearly over a body, lingering
a little here and there on the way down.Through a Glass Darkly:ET & Rob

"It's just like you to abandon the one who brought
you," Doyle said in that way Bodie could never quite decipher. Was Ray camping it up
or flirting with him? Was there necessarily any difference in the end?
"Oh don't be that way," Bodie said, playing along regardless. "You know you'll
always have my heart."
Doyle seemed to study Bodie, his expression strangely wistful. "Is that all?"
"It's all I have to give you, petal," Bodie said, still unsure of his partner's
intention, and strangely flustered by his regard......"You're not interested in
my lovely body, after all...."
Doyle looked at him for a beat longer....It was as if, during that brief moment,
he had made a conscious decision to follow Bodie's lead. The odd undercurrent
that had been there only seconds before vanished.
May Fair:Ancasta

Doyle turned.....and Bodie watched his hair change colour as the sun drifted in
and out of clouds, and the patterns of moving water rippling across the green of
his eyes; and into his mind came the thought, curiously exact and complete:

I’m going to fall in love with you. And you won’t fight.
Et In Italia Ego: Sebastian

He looked at Bodie and Nicole, entwined....
Does he look like that with me? Doyle wasn’t sure he wanted to think so. As he
watched, Bodie’s fingers ran round to her back.....As he did this, he lifted his
head and faced Doyle, watching him now over her shoulders. He tilted his head,
indicating to him. *Come on*. Doyle remained where he was. He could get through
this – perhaps – if they kept away from each other. He could admire Bodie from a
distance. He could watch. He could watch him with a girl, he realised. Just
couldn’t share. Didn’t want to expose the two of them to another’s gaze, even if
she didn’t know what she was privy to. Didn’t want to be inches from his body and
unable to touch it, to run his fingers and palms over that skin........
Paper Chase:MLMead

....he had thought he knew his partner well enough to be able to pick up on the
smallest signals. But this time Bodie was giving nothing away. They stood face to
face, neither speaking, the tension building palpably between them. At last Bodie
broke the silence.
"So. Maybe you'd like to explain to me what the hell you thought you were playing at?"
Doyle felt his temper rising, curbed it with an effort. He'd give Bodie that one.
He took a few steps towards his partner.... "Look, you're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't
have gone off like that. It was a spur of the moment thing. And we were meant to be
maintaining radio silence anyway."
The façade cracked, eyes first. Irrelevantly, and not for the first time, Doyle
marvelled at how such an icy blue could project such fire. "Don't give me that,"
Bodie snarled... Resolution:Bistokids

Bodie stared. Arms twined around arms, and legs woven together, muscles straining,
mouths reaching for mouths, and moans loud as fire. It was all there in black and white.
It was grainy, and it was shadowed, and it was unmistakably them. He didn't know
whether to be glad he had copies or whether to cry. "Jesus…"
"Yeah......."
They confirmed one thing. He would never give Doyle up. They were too right together.
Even extortion made them look good.
If There Be Vampires and Werewolves:Slantedlight

Bodie would never admit it to anyone, but he liked
Doyle and the way he moved. Fluid and fast, or swaggering and slow, danger incarnate
or supple and ethereal.... At times, Bodie rather wished they had got off on a better
footing. The man was far more interesting than he had at first assumed. Too
light-framed to be a good fighter, he nevertheless was.....
Doyle was a mystery. He needed figuring out.
Voyages of the CI5:Hutchynstarsk

He woke abruptly, his eyes opening to the thin light of morning, and to Bodie's
own gaze, blue and unwavering...
"You held my hand in hospital," he said huskily, his dreams still sweeping through
him, this one and that one gliding together until they became a single memory, a
single piece of now....
"Physical contact's supposed to be good for..."
"What about kissing me? Was that just physical contact too?" It was strange, seeing
it all together like this, a single solid line to this moment that was so clear, so
pure and clear that he couldn't imagine ever having not known. "And that time when
the roof fell in... you brought me a torch?"
Bodie's lips twisted in a half-smile at that.
"No..." He remembered. "You brought me the moon." Discovered Out Of Context:Slantedlight

"And you fucked him."
Bodie tensed. "What makes you think that?"
"You'd have done it today. And you told me five minutes ago that you thought
you were back there. Seems to indicate that you'd done it before, doesn't it?"
"Twice."
"What about other people?"
"Yeah, I've played the Game with other people. But not like that....."
Doyle stared at him, a look on his face as though he'd never seen Bodie before.
Bodie felt a lump of ice form in his gut as the silence stretched out and
lengthened....he imagined that if he broke eye contact now, Doyle would never
forgive him....
"You know something?" Doyle said at length. "Something really stupid? I was in
love with you. Real, absolute 'til death do us part' love..."
Bodie realised that he was staring at Doyle...
A Few Little Fireworks:Madmogs

He managed to suspend all thought for some time, staring mindlessly at the house
opposite, watching lights go on and off, allowing him to track their movements to
some extent, and providing reassurance that they hadn't slipped out the back
door.....Then, without warning, he found himself remembering the sight of Ray
kneeling before him, Ray sucking him. It was a compelling memory, one he knew
he would never be able to forget. The sort that replays itself over and over,
whether you want it to or not.....
A movement outside and his mind was back on the job. The front door of the house
opposite was opening. A man emerged carrying two large holdalls and took them up
to a car parked near the house....None So Blind:awarrington

He paused a moment when he noticed his nose was about 2 inches from Bodie’s
left knee. There was a spot of raspberry jam on his corduroys, and Ray had an
inexplicable urge to lick it. More to the point, to lick Bodie.
Startled, Ray looked up to see Bodie staring down at him, his expression ruthlessly
neutral, except for his eyes....His eyes made Ray ache in his throat and in his cock.
“Got it bad, huh, Sunshine,” Ray murmured as he slid one hand up Bodie’s thigh, then
gripped the muscular leg. He noted almost clinically that his partner was hard.
Constricted in those tight cords, it couldn’t be comfortable. He moved his hand
over and stroked the bulge gently, soothing the ache. Enfilade-Defilade:Bistokidsfan

Trudging back up the hill behind Bodie, he wondered if staying in CI5 were really
worth the effort. He looked up and saw Bodie pause, his dark form creating an even
darker silhouette against the night sky. Doyle's breath caught in his chest as he
took the image in--Bodie framed by the night, his hair offset by his face, both
ringed in starlight. *This is the world I live in--Bodie and CI5. To have one,
he'd have to conform to the other*. Then he saw Bodie's eyes turn to look down
on him--and felt fear wash through him again....
The Two Trees:Morgan Dawn

I knew he was do-able the first time I set eyes on him......
I started to catch myself watching him. We'd be out on an obbo somewhere, stuck
in some poor sod's bedroom or jammed into the Transit and I wouldn't be watching out
for the madman of the week - I'd be watching him. His hands on the binoculars, the
flash of white nape over his collar as he bent his head. And his mouth, always his mouth.
I started to dream about that mouth.
This went on for what seemed like ages and then, about six months ago, it all came
to a head....
Watching His Mouth:Georgina Kirrin

Doyle leant forward to say goodbye....and Bodie was suddenly, acutely and rather
uncomfortably, aware of his partner. It was no wonder the ladies swooned over him -
it wasn’t that he was classically handsome; his good looks were rough, and imperfect,
from his messed-up brown curls to his big, intense eyes, his flawed but engaging smile;
from the slim yet muscular arms and torso, the narrow waist and hips, the almost feminine
curve of his lower back and the exquisite little backside that Bodie had always envied,
to the long, slim legs and the size nine feet fetchingly clad in brown leather.
The way he was leaning just then, turned slightly sideways, accentuated everything that
was good about Ray Doyle’s looks. In fact, if Doyle had been a woman, Bodie would have
sworn that pose was flirtatious: an unmistakeable come-hither look.
In The Interest of Bodie and Doyle:SBN3745

Bodie watches him. He is interested now. He has given Doyle one tiny push, and it
is as if he has pulled the tail of a friendly but high-tempered Siamese cat. The
creature is alert, fur rising. Ready to give him the benefit of the doubt for now, or
to take his throat out in one swipe if he repeat-offends... Just a Stepney beat-copper,
he reminds himself. No good. He lets his gaze settle on the damaged left cheekbone,
the place where it looks as if he's been smashed and reconstructed. "Doesn't that ever
bother you?"
Doyle lifts an eyebrow. He pauses for a moment……and lets his own gaze focus on a point
just over Bodie's right shoulder. "Not any more. Doesn't that bother you......that
bloody great chip? Must weigh a ton." Painted Angels:Angelfish

Doyle had been in the room when Bodie had been introduced to Neave’s six man cell.
Not by so much as the flick of an eyelash did he indicate he’d ever laid eyes on Bodie
before. Well, fair enough. It was as much as both their lives were worth, but Bodie was
used to knowing Doyle’s thoughts whether they spoke or not. He couldn’t read this Doyle
at all......When Doyle had spoken in that soft lilting voice about the bombs they would
plant and the death and destruction they would bring, a chill had slithered down Bodie’s
spine. When Doyle’s eyes had met his, they’d been hard and green as any emerald on any
isle. It was at that point the treacherous thought had entered Bodie’s head that perhaps
Doyle had cut it a bit close deliberately.
A terrible, treacherous thought.....
Home for the Holidays:JGL

"Let's wait a bit, see what they do next...."
Doyle fell silent and stared in shock as two of the men dropped to their knees in
front of the other two and engulfed their swollen erections in their mouths. "Fuck,"
he muttered.
"Be good if they did," Bodie murmured.
"What? Bodie!"
"Think about it, Ray........ If they're fucking each other, they're not raping
her...."
Almost unblinkingly they both stared at the men, watching as the two on the ground
sucked the two standing; watched the two standing throw back their heads and cry out
in pleasure. The chanting had stopped, but the frenzy of almost inarticulate cries
filled the air....
"On three," Bodie whispered.......
Keeping Watch:Darby Brennan

Small squares of light betrayed the flats rising into the sky, but apart from that,
it was as if he and Doyle were the only two people in the world. He glanced at him,
enjoying the reassurance of being together in this intimate little world (and).....eyed
him speculatively, with a sudden quiet reflection. They'd shared a few confessions over
the years, a couple of things that had made eyebrows rise before sheepish laugher took
over, and both had gained a shrewd appreciation that Cowley knew a lot more about the
men he partnered then he'd ever let on. Not that he or Doyle had acted upon anything
they had learnt...yet.
A Stirring of Soup:Magenta Blue

...I fixed him with a stare.
“What are you up to?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady when in fact my
insides were shaking like a leaf.
His eyes were boring into my face.
“Are you as thick as you look or what?” he replied.
As soon as I looked at him I had no doubt as to what was on his mind. How many
times had I seen that expression on his face, though never directed at me I must
admit. I could read him like a book. He wanted me, preferably within the next five
minutes judging by the intensity of his gaze.
I was probably opening and closing my mouth like a fish by this time. I certainly
couldn’t think of any smart-arse reply.....I’ve never felt my knees turn to jelly
efore.....Awakening:Sally Fell

And when he looked at Doyle’s face...he didn’t like what he saw....he just wasn’t
Doyle. Certainly he’d gone far undercover before—as he said, he was damn good—but
this...he looked like he wasn’t home at all, just an emotionless shell going
through the motions. His body was there, but his mind... wasn’t. His face tilted
a little towards the light and Bodie caught a glimpse of his eyes. Even from this
distance, he could see the cold, flat stare of them, the way he had shut himself
inside. Bodie didn’t like that, not one bit. Worry tickled his gut.
Doyle could be the most expressive bloke ever. When he shut down like that
— completely shut down, so no emotion reached his face or his eyes whatsoever
— something was wrong.
No Dreams:Hutchynstarsk

The photograph was old, and bent at the corners. Black and white, it still
blazed off the paper, a brilliant moment captured in time.
Two boys, caught in the sunlight. One was Doyle, face perfect, angelic in its
purity.....
Doyle’s hand was shaking again. Bodie looked at him. The contrast in the face
before him and the face in the picture was strong. Doyle – his Doyle – looked
hungry, bitter and old.
He didn’t know what to say, what questions to ask that would unlock the deep unhappiness in front of him.
“Who is he?”
Memory:Murphybabe

shooting2kill — Sun, 17 Nov 2013 16:42:39 GMT
Visions of Bodie and Doyle:
variations on the theme of unrequited love.

"Why did you go with him?"
For a minute he didn't say anything. Then, so low I almost missed it....
"He made me feel special. Like I was the most beautiful person in the world. He
touched me as if I was made of something precious and he looked at me as if he had
never seen anything like me in all the world.....I used to laugh at those romantic
films when the women in them acted like I'm acting now. I used to think nobody could
be that stupid. I always used to sit there thinking `Get over it'. I don't think
I'll laugh at them anymore. Anyway, after about five weeks, he started to act as if
having me around all the time was a drag on him. Finally, I asked him if he was tired
of me and he said no. But then he said he was leaving and he wouldn't be able to see
me anymore.... He told me he was leaving at the end of the week. When I went back
the next day he was gone." The Protector:Diva

"Suppose you fall in love one day?" Patricia had asked him. He had been so sure of
the answer. He had thought it impossible. And here he was, already in love. He should
have said, "It has happened already. I love a man I am already tied to with more ties
than marriage, to whom I owe more than I could owe any woman."
He should have said, "Your question is too late."
He should have said, "My heart was damaged, so I never saw what was happening to it.
I forgot what love can be...."
"Have you gone off me?"
She asked it so matter-of-factly...."Jennifer -- don't think that. It isn't you."
"Is there someone else, then?"
He shook his head, but she didn't believe the denial. He didn't know how to explain.
Midnight Clear: Amy M.Morgan

"I love you," he said, very quietly.
He knew - oh he knew so well it was the wrong time, the bittersweetness of that
singing defeat through his blood, but he had to say it.....
"Don't give me that, Bodie."
Bodie stayed silent in his own pain, accepting the failure......
"Look, I'm not sayin' it's over with us, with you and me, but tonight--" His voice
caught again, but he didn't heed it, battled on, "It's her I want, I know I can't
have her but that's how it is tonight, and I'd be better alone, honest, Bodie."
He tried to smile, to make it all better. "I'm not in the mood, mate. Go out and
pick up some bird from the pub, eh, you can tell me all about it in the morning?"
The knife slid under skin and twisted.
"You make me so angry sometimes," said Bodie in a low voice....
Hyperion to a Satyr:Sebastian

His partner was lying there, stretched out on the sofa, engrossed in a paperback,
and genuinely unconcerned it seemed, that Bodie was packing to leave for all of
four days. And Bodie knew all too well how differently Doyle's departure would have
affected him... Yet the hurt of that difference was almost familiar to him now, and
he wandered over to the sofa to sit... couldn't stop trying, could he?
"...Just thought, since I'm leaving an' all....Thought maybe you'd want to spend some
time....you know...." he finished weakly. He looked away, and heard Doyle sigh deeply.
"You're just goin' away for four fuckin' days, Bodie. Not joining the Foreign Legion."
Bodie looked down at his lap, wounded again.
Scenes From the Edge:Kate Maclean

Why don't we get some nosh and go to one of our flats?" He kept his voice carefully
neutral, not daring to inject a note of hopefulness, unwilling to risk pushing Bodie
away by pushing too hard. But oh, how he wanted Bodie in his bed tonight.
And every night.
He waited. Bodie took a long time replying. "Nah...I've got plans for later."
"Oh." Doyle tried hard not to let the ache of disappointment show. "Date?"
"Yeah. Air hostess...."
"Is that right?" Doyle hadn't heard him mention any birds lately. "A looker, is she?"
"You know any air hostesses who aren't?"
Doyle didn't reply.....
Love in a Faithless Country:Alexandra

God, what an idiot he truly was. Of course he loved Ray Doyle, he always had.
It didn’t take a carving or a spell to make that happen, it was as natural as night
follows day. It had taken a spell to make him see it clearly though, realise how much
the man meant to him. And now he’d spent the last week pissing the love of his life off.
No wonder Doyle had preferred Stuart’s company.
He could put it right though, he could tell Ray how he felt, take the chance. He’d risk
a bollocking by his partner, or worse, if Ray took exception to his romantic interest.
But now the momentum of his feelings had started he couldn’t stop them, he had to do
something about it, even if it meant Ray despising him for it. He could live with
unrequited love and Ray’s ratty temper, but he couldn’t live with not knowing.
The Spell: Fictionwriter

"Did you hear what I said?"
"I heard."
There was an awkward silence.
"You could at least congratulate me."
"Yeah, sorry, it's just... it's a bit of shock, coming from you." He swallowed.
"Things change," Bodie said......Shock, disbelief, any amount of teasing, these
he had expected. Not the moment of devastation he had glimpsed. What was the matter
with Doyle, you'd think Bodie had announced his funeral instead of his wedding....
"Yeah," Doyle mumbled. "Things do change."
Chalk and Cheese: Thomas

"I suppose I should be glad I found him sleeping on the sofa instead of....."
she began bitterly, before biting off what she had been going to say.
Doyle flushed and looked away, frowning, well aware of what she'd meant to say, but
bewildered she should have been on the point of stating it so openly. Was it really
possible that other people, Ann included, saw something there between Bodie and
himself even they themselves wouldn't admit to, and certainly weren't consciously
revealing...It wasn't a topic he felt capable of discussing with her, so he moved
on to, what for him, was slightly safer ground, and said, "Christ, I can't believe
I didn't see how much you two dislike each other."
"Oh, Ray, you're so naive," she said, exasperated with him, "why shouldn't we
dislike each other? We're rivals, aren't we?"
Denoument:LH

He didn't want to listen, but Bodie was only about three feet away from him, he could
even hear the phone ringing at the other end, then a woman's voice came on.
Christ. He's phoning her in front of me, Doyle thought. He's not even trying to be
discreet. Doyle was determined not to let Bodie see how much this was upsetting him...
He really didn't want to hear, but it was impossible not to. Bodie was talking softly
now. "Hallo, love, it's Phil. Look, I'm sorry, but I've been called into work...Looks
like it's going to be an all night thing so I'll get back to you when I can, O.K....."
Who the hell was this woman Bodie introduced himself to as 'Phil'? He'd never heard
anyone call Bodie anything other than Bodie - and get away with it. He was Bodie.
Just Bodie...
Question Time:Rob

Anger shot through him, like an arrow coldly flensed with steel; anger at Doyle's
blatant exhibitionism - for he knew all too well Doyle did it out of a very calculated
purpose indeed - and anger at his own helpless desire, the shaming lust that led him,
every bloody time they played one of these very private little games instigated by Doyle,
to gorge his eyes on Ray while he had the chance, greedily feeding on the sight of him,
stashing impressions away in his memory with indecent haste, piling small detail on
small detail, to be brought out at leisure, and alone...
... but even anger could do nothing to quell the growing, insistent excitement as he
watched Ray undress, the intensely heightened sexual awareness, the tense alertness of
anticipation...
Siren:Sebastian

With an irritated sigh, Doyle chanced a glance backwards. From Bodie's stance, Doyle
knew that he had been hurt by Doyle's dismissal of his offer of comfort. He also knew
that Bodie wouldn't say a word about it. Bodie would let him off. As usual. The power
he knew he had over his partner gave him a great deal of satisfaction, and for a moment,
he actually wanted to bask in that power.......(He) shook his head in exasperation as
he considered how much longer he was going to continue to hurt his partner, his best
friend....
Learning Curve:LilyK

Bodie gave him a wry smile as he slid into the car and slammed the door. "Ivan the
Terrible seems to have taken quite a shine to you."
At first Ray protested innocence. 'What are you talking about?"
"Come on, you're not blind. And even if you were, you don't have to be clairvoyant.
He's getting quite attached to you."
"Yeah, I've noticed," Ray growled. "What d'you reckon it is?"
"A crush. Infatuation......It'll probably wear off, don't worry. It's the
stranger-in-a-strange-land thing. Doesn't matter much."
"He doesn't look gay, " Ray mused. "Bisexual, I suppose. I mean he looks as normal
as you....."
Andante:Jane"

Ray. Ray, damn his green eyes. His sea-green, smiling eyes. Only they hadn't been
smiling today. He wished that it had been a day off for both of them. He could have
taken Ray away for the day. Fishing, hiking, somewhere.. He could have taken Doyle
with him, showed him at least one of the secret places. One of the cars, maybe. Or
the marvellous collection he kept in Mrs D's attic.
But no. He would not show Ray the foxholes he'd made. He would no more show Ray
the Uzi in the boot of his old car than he'd show him the lust that burned in his
gut for his partner....Could say it. Could say, I love you. But that thought
frightened Bodie as much as it would distress Doyle. Love? Course it wasn't
love. Couldn't be. Wasn't anything like love. Just lust.
Secrets:DVS

Doyle used to get angry about how hurt he felt that Bodie would never show
anything more than pure, straightforward lust. Why should he care so much when
his mate clearly didn’t give a flying fuck? .....Because the idea of it - the
smallest wisp of possibility that Bodie felt at all that thing that Doyle
struggled with every day - was truly intoxicating. Doyle could never not hope
for a thing like that. For Bodie to worry and wonder, for him to long for him,
for him to want to kiss his face off in pure joy and pleasure in his company and
punch his lights out for being a complete arsehole, all at the same time. Because
that’s what Bodie did to him. And the fact that he meant nothing to Bodie, himself,
was unbearable.
And it felt like a kiss: Ailcia

Bodie would come to him tonight, or maybe tomorrow night. He always came after
an op gone bad. The need for release was well-understood by them both: a celebration
of victory snatched from death. Those nights when passion and violence ruled, albeit
tempered by an undeniable, and unexpected, tenderness....It was these moments, these
nights, when he understood what it was he gave to Bodie that his partner never could.
When he knew the odd threesome they created was a viable entity. Yet, he had never
cared--or dared--to explore the hidden emotions roiling within his lover where Doyle
was concerned. That, the one topic they never spoke of.
Chances Change:PFL

I was just fooling around, and Bodie...Bodie was not. I could see it in his eyes when
he kissed me the first time. I could feel it every time we touched. And yet I couldn't
stop myself. I'd always wanted what was on offer tonight, and altered conditions, like
making love instead of fucking, seemed a minor change. I easily got him back on the right
track, too. I kissed him to shut him up, to deflect any word he was going to say. Didn't
work though. No matter how I touched and caressed his body, his eyes always sought mine
and silently conveyed a promise..
Bodie's in love. With me. And I used that......
Bodie cares too much. Too damn much. Maybe even too much to accept that I won't change...
I never meant for all of this to become so complicated.....
It shouldn't hurt so much not to love somebody.
Altruism:Hermine

"Keller died about 15 minutes ago. Major Nairn called."
Shocked, Bodie closed his eyes, inwardly cursing Keller. They weren't partners anymore;
Keller shouldn't have sacrificed himself. Guilt savaged Bodie, piercing his armored
emotions, as he faced the truth. Keller's real motive for saving him was a love that
Bodie had never been able to return. Shame flooded him, remembering he'd been tempted
to bed Keller for old times, at least until he'd known about the girl. Guilt compounded
by shame caused him to reach for his protective shell of anger, but it wasn't to be
found tonight. Lately, he'd had too much reason to feel empathy with all those suffering
from unrequited love.
An Exercise in Futility:Madeleine Lee

"Just wanted to say sorry....for screwing up the team, sir. If I hadn't gotten
involved..." He trailed off as Cowley met his gaze at last....eyes tired and yet,
suddenly mesmerising in their honesty.
"I've never encountered anyone less suited to remaining uninvolved, Bodie. For all
that hard man front of yours, it was only a matter of time before you gave your...
loyalty completely." Bodie stared mute into the pain in those dark eyes. "You chose
Doyle."
It was a simple statement, it said nothing really, and yet Bodie stood there
stunned, hypnotised by that pain.
Not Cowley, he thought vaguely. Not Cowley.....
Choosing:Kate Maclean

"What do you want from me, Bodie..?"
"Doesn't matter now. Never did, I suppose. A bit of yourself, maybe. A bit of you
that was only for me, that only I could reach...But you're too democratic for that,
aren't you? Treat everyone the same; chance acquaintances, total strangers, even
snitches and the occasional villain can catch at that overworked conscience of
yours...You capitalise on your assets. Parcel it out special, don't you? Dependin'
on what you get back."
"No." Doyle's denial sounded weak to his own ears...
"Maybe that's it. Maybe I've just never been able to figure you out. Nobody really
owns a cat, do they?"
Totally lost now, Doyle just stared at him...Bodie shrugged, "It's okay, Ray. Don't
go off on a guilt trip. You can't help what you are. I've never blamed you...
My fault, being such a pushover. Mush inside where you're concerned.
Poison Apples:Pamela Rose

Bodie picked up the letter and walked across the room, unable to bear keeping still
as he read it, with its smudged ink, its multiple crossings-out and corrections. It
looked like Doyle had either been very drunk or very upset when he wrote it: perhaps
both....He saw the words ‘I love you,’ written twice. He saw the sense of
hopelessness: Doyle had expected nothing in return for this.... it had needed to be
said because heaven and hell were both better than limbo. It was a reality that had
to be faced up to. The tragedy was that neither of them had realised they were living
in the same reality until it was too late.
But the worst part of all for Bodie, was the end of the letter: the words 'Your Ray,'
albeit crossed out... but he'd thought it; he'd written it....*mine all along*, and I
didn't.....
The Letter Doyle Never Sent:Maddalia: Proslib CD

"She thinks we're fucking, does she?....Very - interestin', that. Or is it more of
a - a spiritual kind of love?"
"Oh, an unrequited love....."
"I get it. You're in love with me but I'm keeping you at arm's length?"
"Well, that's about it. Except I got the feeling she thinks maybe you give me one
every so often just to let me know what I'm missing....You called me up just one too
many times, sunshine."
"I must have done," Doyle marvelled........"So I grant you a kind of mercy fuck, every
so often, do I?"
"She's not sure. She'd rather not think about it." Bodie shuddered, delicately. "She's
probably not too sure of the gory details, anyway. Most likely she thinks gay love means
two blokes dressing up in women's undies and reading Oscar Wilde out loud."
Vivamus, Amemus:Sebastian

"Is she married or dead or...something?"
"....No, it's nothing like that. People care about people in different ways. If
they care at all. Sometimes you can... love a person and know they can't love you
the same way. You settle for what you can get."
Doyle snapped back as he realized that Bodie was answering his question. "But if
you never told her how you feel, how do you know she'd be turned off? Maybe she
feels the same--"
"No. It's impossible."
His voice was uncharacteristically wistful. Impossible. Now that was a word Doyle
rarely, if ever, associated with Bodie....
Rebound:Courtney Gray

"How can you leave everything like this?"
"What everything? All I have is the job. I have no family here." It hurt to say that,
but he wanted Doyle to understand the ties that held him here were precarious at best.
Five years of deep friendship were important, but he could not base the rest of his
life on it. Someday, Doyle would marry and then where would he be?
"What about me?"
Bodie frowned, trust Doyle to cut to the chase without even knowing he was doing it.
All he could do was tell the truth. "You don't keep me warm at night, sunshine......"
Love's The Last to Know:Meridian

Physically, he was recovering, his body well-mended, and the misery was now simply
something he lived with, something he accepted the way he accepted that he’d heard
nothing from Ray. As Doyle had said, silence spoke louder than words, and if that
was the way it was going to be, then fine, he could cope with that....one thing he
was not going to do was hang around gazing at Doyle, pining away from unrequited
love, wanting to die of unhappiness every time his partner had a new girlfriend.
No, he’d walk before he let himself sink so low. But then a voice would whisper:
easy to say now, when you can’t even see him......
Christ, but he missed Doyle.....
Wish I Wasn't Here:M Fae Glasgow

"Aren't you going to congratulate me, Bodie?" Her breath ghosted over his cheek,
smelling of sweet wine.
Bodie stiffened. "And why would I do that?"
"I won our little game. That deserves congratulations, don't you think? Ray's
mine now and you can't do anything about it."
Something wound tight snapped inside Bodie. He twisted his hand, capturing her
wrist between his fingers, thumb pressing into the palm. Steadily he piled on the
pressure, watching her face as the pain grew....her arrogance finally slipped, revealing,
for a moment, the frightened girl inside.
"On the contrary, my sweet. I'm merely allowing you to borrow Ray for a while. Do remember
to return him in the same condition that you got him in when you get bored, won't you?"
Something Borrowed:Andromeda

shooting2kill — Sat, 03 Aug 2013 11:26:12 GMT
Visions of Bodie and Doyle: The Eight Deadly Sins

He stared at the ceiling and thought about the look he sometimes caught in Bodie's
eyes, and the way Bodie smelled, and what Bodie's thigh felt like pressed between his.
He closed his eyes, slipped his hand into his pants, and remembered being nineteen and
kissing a man. He remembered Bodie pratting around and grabbing his arse. He remembered
the sight of Bodie's nipple hardening because of his touch.
He stroked himself and hated Jackie - not for being with Bodie, but for being who and
what he was. Doyle couldn't even indulge himself with the one man who meant so much to
him, and yet Jackie could be an agent respected by Cowley even while he paraded around
flaunting his perversions.
Much Ado About Nothing:SnarkyLlama

He couldn't very well tell Bodie he was attracted to him without understanding what
he felt. So he had waited. Little by little, he had more insight. When one day Bodie
brought his car to a screeching halt .....and had grinned at him through the open window,
Doyle had felt a surge of lust that made him want to leap into the car. And with it had
come other thoughts: had Bodie been battling such urges? Was that kiss in the flat just
the last, irresistible vestige of weeks or months of unsatisfied desire?
He did not know, but he knew that his response to Bodie was growing from fondness to
fascination. It was becoming intensely physical, so that thinking about him gave him a
rush that was sometimes overwhelming. Fantasies that he never would have considered
before filled his head. Sexual impulses centered on Bodie, irresistibly and
enticingly. He wanted more.
Algiers:Fajrdrako

...there was a connection between them, an almost electric charge when Bodie looked
at him and knew exactly what he was feeling, just like he knew what was going through
Bodie's head. Those moments, when the two of them clicked in tacit understanding, were
precious to him... For the first time, Ray let himself imagine Bodie naked...with his
pale torso glimmering, muscles flexing, splayed out on Ray’s dark-sheeted bed bathed
in moonlight and shadows, that odd eyebrow raised in lustful invitation.....
Blind Spot:Shay Sheridan
I sensed his scrutiny and felt strangely unsettled by it..William Phillips was
something else, did something quite disconcerting to me. I couldn’t shake the
conviction that those penetrating indigo blue eyes of his seemed to look straight
into me and read my lustful thoughts in glorious technicolor.
When It All Comes Tumbling Down: Marjoram_ Max

Amid the shriek of protesting tires, the gold Capri rocked to a halt, lurched forward
once, angled back, then fell silent as its ignition was abruptly disengaged.
Raymond Doyle sat in the driver's seat, hands wrapped around the steering wheel,
baleful gaze turned towards the entry to the apartment block that stood outside his
right window.
*The bastard*.
Despite the almost overwhelming impetus to stalk up to Bodie's door and smash his
handsome face in, Doyle held himself rigid, forcing himself to breathe normally, waiting
for the fury-paced beat of his heart to gradually slow. It took a while, considering the
state of his temper; but it allowed him the first real chance to think since Cowley had
dropped his bomb.
The bastard had resigned.
Trial Run:Ellis Ward

He knew from overheard conversations that the two spent a fair amount of off duty
time together, whether on double dates or just watching a game on the box. Cowley
wondered if they ever turned down the level of intensity he saw on the job, or even
if they realized the heat they generated between them. Half of every conversation
between the two was carried on silently in looks and gestures - if you only heard
their words, you missed half their meaning....
As the two men's eyes remained locked, it seemed to Cowley that no one else existed
for them just then. There was an exclusiveness between them that he almost envied.
Almost - he had never wanted the responsibility that such a close relationship engendered.
A Safe Bet:D Ramsey

"Don't know why we don't just leave our mess in one place. Spend half our lives carting
things back and forth across the whole of London like some bloody sight-seeing coach."
Just having exited the car, Doyle froze to look in through the window at him, his
vibrant body momentarily stone still. Breath held, Bodie took in the rigid shoulders
and too-straight back, and KNEW he'd failed, transgressed beyond the over-generous limits
Ray had set for them, broken his word.
Unable to meet Doyle's eyes in his shame..... Bodie heard only the lilting laughter in the
melodious voice which mocked him.
"Come live with me and be my love, eh?"
"Sorry, mate," he said stiffly, the shuttered dignity that was pride offering no balm to
his torn heart.
"Guess it is more like Her Reply...."
His Reply:Rosemary Callahan

"Going where?"
"To pick up the girls..…". Bodie let his voice trail away as he caught sight of Doyle....
He swallowed reflexively, knew it was too late, that Doyle had seen, would surely
know that Bodie wanted him more than anyone else.
"Didn't I tell you?" Oh so casual, "They're busy tonight, couldn't make it. So I thought…"
So you thought good old Bodie might stand up as third choice after all, did you? Heat spread
through him, lust, anger – disappointment? No, it was rage, that's what it was. Thought
Bodie'd be here whenever he.....No.
The High Up Singing and Alive Fruit:Slantedlight

"Fancy some turkey at my place?" Doyle had suggested tentatively. "Touch of the old
sloth and gluttony?"
"Bit of lust too?".....Doyle caught the uncertainty that lurked behind it.
"If your luck's in." He managed to conceal the throb of excitement that warmed his
whole body at that declaration of intent. "You'll have to do the washing-up if I'm going
to cook."
"I'll borrow your pinny and rubber gloves."
"Just keep your lunch-hooks off me curlers, all right?"
Boxing Day The Hag

It was eleven, later, and Bodie loitered at Doyle's door, and could not decide.
What the hell am I doing here?
A pale moon shone; blown by a southerly wind clouds scudded across the sky and
would not stay to make pictures: no omens there to help him.
He had done the right thing yesterday, held Doyle off; and to go back on it would
be madness. The man was a leech, greedy for it all, uncaring of his host's decline.
So what point was there in letting himself listen to something which had been, at
best, an echo; a long-ago dream which contemptuous reality had forced into the dust?
No point at all......
Perfect Day:Sebastian

With sudden clarity, Bodie knew he had to control this situation before he said something
he would regret, before the control he had exercised all this time slipped from his
possession .....
The lust had been burning inside him since the moment he met the argumentative Met
copper, despite taking an immediate dislike to him. But dislike had turned to grudging
admiration, and then into respect; and lust had not diminished, only become fuelled
by the added flame of love. A singularly unpleasant revelation experienced after
finding Ray shot and bleeding in his apartment and watching him fight Death after
Mayli's bullets had stopped his heart. Buying himself time, he strode to the drinks
cabinet and poured two large whiskies. He downed one glass immediately, and poured
another, before turning to Doyle....
Splash!:Raven RS & ILWB

Doyle had never thought himself a coward before but he dropped the phone back in
its cradle as if afraid it would bite him then sat staring at it wondering what he
should do next, his thoughts a jumbled mess of confusion and doubt. His common sense
was telling him that whatever or whoever Bodie had become involved in he should stay
out of it but his instincts were screaming something different and he didn’t know
which to believe. And who the hell was this man who seemed to have full access to
Bodie’s flat? Doyle didn’t like the sting of jealousy he felt at the thought of
what the man could mean to his partner; they had no hold on each other after all.
But the sting was there nevertheless...
A Mercenary's Tale:Fictionwriter

"....I can knock off an exquisite poem faster than you can... well, make a cup of
tea, for instance."
"Except most of yours are obscene.......But if you're going to make some tea--"
Bodie weighed the conflicting calls of sloth and gluttony. He fancied being waited on
hand, foot and finger, but Doyle was disinclined to this entrancing pursuit. If he went
and made the tea he could forage unhindered by comments about his weight for fruitcake
and mince pies and chocolate biscuits, and perhaps a nibble of the cold turkey he'd
brought back from the early Christmas dinner Gran had cooked for him yesterday. Pity
he couldn't have taken Doyle along to meet her, but then Doyle had been gathering up
the remains of his sister's superb baking. Crackers:The Hag

"Be a good chap and get us an ice-cream," Bodie said suddenly, eyes still closed.
Doyle looked down at him incredulously. "You're bloody joking aren't you?"
An eye cracked open..."Now, now," Bodie admonished. "You really need to calm down.
Take a stroll up along the promenade."
"We. Are. Meant. To. Be. Watching. The. Hut."
"Take a break."
"Oh, yeah, right....sure Cowley would love that.."
Doyle stared at the empty beach huts and back at Bodie, narrowing his eyes when
he saw how relaxed his partner had become.
"You'd better not be thinking about sleeping," he warned...
"Not sleepin'," Bodie murmured. "Just restin' me eyes."
Sun, Sea and Desiccated Particles of Silica:Rospberry

Doyle's voice was a husky whisper. "I know. Oh, Christ, Michael, I've been so
- so bloody lonely. You don't know what it's been like. Working with him, wanting
him, while he dates this girl and that girl, then, once a week I'll get the royal
summons and trot along, well trained, and climb into bed like his personal,
made-to-order catamite." He paused, clearing his throat. "I'm not proud of what
I've been doing."
"Stop hurting yourself." Murphy said softly. "There's only you knows about your
wounded pride. Bodie's a good lad, never set out to hurt you on purpose, but
you're too clever an actor, Ray. You've hidden it all, made him think you're
happy. If you'd blown your stack at him it might have been different."
.... "You can't get angry with someone because they don't love you........"
Coming Home:Kathy Keegan

Bodie looked after the slighter man, and frowned. He felt, to his surprise, envy....
Bodie never cried - he didn't think he could, not anymore. He'd seen too much.
He'd been too often hurt, killed too many people. He didn't enjoy killing, not
by any stretch of the imagination, but it no longer touched him the way it had
Doyle. The guy made Bodie feel inhuman, as if Doyle was in a place he could no
longer reach. Envy. Yes. But he didn't resent Doyle for his humanity. What he
also felt, which surprised him even more, was compassion. Because he wasn't as
hard as all that. He remembered what it was like to do what Doyle just had...
Surrounding a Declaration,Chapter 1: Maddalia

On first acquaintance, he'd wanted nothing so much as to throttle Ray Doyle.
That had quickly changed.
It hadn't taken long for him to realize that the scruffy git was one of the top men
on the squad. He was the best shot with a handgun that Bodie had ever seen, and his
wiry strength and tenacity in a fight made him near unbeatable, in spite of his slender
frame. Soon enough, Bodie couldn't imagine working with anyone else.
Not that the partnership was perfect. Ray got up his nose often as not. He told the most
atrocious jokes. And he dressed in rejects from an Oxfam shop. But he was a good mate. The
best. There was no one with whom he'd rather lift a pint, or spend a day in the country
riding his bike.
Then one day Bodie had looked at Ray, at the green, slanted eyes and the unkempt hair...
and lust had shot through him like a lightning bolt.
Evasive Manoeuvres:PR Zed

He couldn’t have said the thought aloud if he’d needed to. Even saying it in
the privacy of his own mind was difficult: from the first moment he’d seen
Jerry and Bodie together, his very first instinct had been to split them up,
putting himself between them in whichever way possible.
What a strange sort of jealousy he’d had; he hadn’t even allowed himself to
think about taking Bodie away from women, so he’d taken women away from Bodie.
Stealing Home: Sandy K Herrold

He watched them as they finally headed over to the lavatory. Torrie and Ellie
had very different styles, but they were both a pleasure to watch walk away. He
turned and caught Bodie watching too. He hoped his expression had been slightly
more civilized than Bodie's open greed. Bodie spied the dessert trolley, and the
expression in his eyes hardly changed at all. Doyle would have sworn he'd seen
the same expression aimed at him. Cheerful gluttony. Quick satisfaction of an itch.
He frowned, knowing better than to be thinking about it now after they'd been drinking.
Two Birds, No Stone:Sandy Herrold & Rosa Westphalen

The trip down the M4 was for once completed without traffic hold-ups, and Bodie's
mood had lifted slightly as they turned off onto the country lanes..... "Shouldn't
be far now. Wonder what this place is like?"
"Big, I expect."......the visiting sheik had apparently shipped in a supporting
entourage for his stay in the run-up to the Cheltenham Festival....."If he's brought
any wives you'd better remember to keep your hands off them, unless you want to join
the entourage as a eunuch."
"No chance. Anyway, I think I'm off women for a bit." He sounded light-hearted,
but Doyle knew Bodie's pride, if not his feelings, had been badly dented when
Gemma had dropped him after just a couple of dates. It was usually Bodie who did
the dropping....
Odds On:Carol Good

"Gratitude! He wants gratitude! Jesus, Bodie, who the fuck were you trying to be
- Superman? ...... You had to charge in like a bull at a gate, taking him on alone
with only one good hand...."
"But - "
I ranted on, ignoring his attempt to speak. "Believe you're indestructible, you do!
Don't think, don't give a damn about me, about how I would feel if you got your
cretinous self killed, do you? If I hadn't known you were going on the river, if I
hadn't remembered that pub you'd taken me to, we'd still be runnin' around in circles
like headless chickens and you'd all be dead. And you want gratitude for that kind of
stupidity? Not to mention giving me fucking heart failure.."
Never Say No Strings: Barbara Thomas

...Stuart bounced jauntily into the rec room. A rare sight in the confines of
CI5 the man always seemed to make a beeline for Doyle whenever he was around,
something that for some reason irritated Bodie no end. Today was no exception.
Giving Bodie a sketchy nod by way of acknowledgement Stuart chose to stand next
to Doyle by the counter.
“Long time no see, mate. How’s tricks?” he asked, looking directly at Doyle,
very much in his personal space....
He saw their byplay, the easy way they had with each other and something bone
deep in Bodie stirred – a single moment of madness that told him if Stuart tried
to touch his partner….he would probably kill him...
The Spell:Fictionwriter

shooting2kill — Sun, 02 Jun 2013 15:28:58 GMT
Visions of Bodie and Doyle:Under(the)cover Activities

Alone most of the time, she believed that he had been hurt and now worked incessantly
with little down time to keep the loneliness at bay. He had a sense of humour and a
delightful smile the few times she'd seen it. He would share where he'd been, but
nothing much about himself.
He usually stopped in at the pub across from Emma's, The Swift Stag, on his first night
back for fish and chips and a lager. He would sit by himself and would nod in response
to any given him, but most all could tell that Mr Bodie wanted to be alone.
Charlie Turnbill, the barman....had the feeling that the solitary man was aware of
everything happening around him. They had a bet on as to whether Mr Bodie was bent
or a straight. No clue yet......
Assignment in Brentby:KrisserCI5

"What's wrong with Bodie?"
.... "It was an emergency call late last night, some kind of brawl or assault,
we don't know yet. He's concussed and having trouble talking, but there's something
he's been trying to tell us and he's asking for you."
"How hurt?"
"He's very confused. They say it's probably temporary but -- "
"Probably?" Doyle's gut tightened.
"There might be some brain damage. But probably not." Cowley's voice was steel......
Undercover. Always bloody undercover......
Poetry to Protect Us:The Hag

"Why would a man like him pay for a woman? He's not that bad looking. Is he?"
"I've seen worse," Doyle admitted. "But it's not women he pays for."
"Ah."
Doyle can see that the penny's dropped.
Bodie smirks. "You'd better watch out then, sunshine. Pretty boy like you—"
"It's not the pretty boys he likes, though," Doyle answers, not smiling back
and feeling irked at being labelled a 'pretty' boy. "It's men like you."
"Tall, dark and handsome?"
Doyle snorts. "Ex-Army," he corrects. "A bit of muscle who's used to following orders."
Bodie makes a face. "I'll be sure to steer clear," he says. "I only take orders from
Cowley.
There's a split-second of silence and then Bodie's lips twitch. "You know what I
mean....."
Personal Interests: Hambel

"Conor Roderick?" Bodie said. It was less a question than an expression of surprise……
“Aye, Bodie. Conor Roderick. The heir apparent.....According to your file you knew him."
Knew him. Knew him, bedded him, lost him....
Bodie nodded, his eyes still focused on the screen. "Back in the day. Merc days,"
he clarified. "We worked on the same mob a couple of times. He got religion, went
back to Belfast." He hesitated barely a second. "We lost touch... Heard his name
around while I was stationed there. He was a Provo out of Derry, I think. Ran a
brigade. Deadly, he was."
"Still is. In fact, if anything, MacDiarmada's tutelage has made him even more
deadly, more efficient at killing....Did your paths cross while you were with
the Paras?"
He shook his head. "No, sir. I was keeping my head down."
Rules of Engagement:Aerye

When they got the news they'd have to be undercover as homosexuals, once again Doyle had ice water veins, but Bodie felt himself growing more and more
uncomfortable.... He couldn't bear to be close to Doyle just then, or even look
at him. How could Doyle take it so calmly?
(He) very much hoped his poker face was still working, and no one could see the
intense embarrassment inside when he thought about the other night. Not that he'd
done anything. Hadn't even touched Doyle's curly head....
Didn't count. Didn't. Really didn't. But all the same he didn't want to look at
Doyle again for a bit, in case a cool assessing gaze saw right through him,
stripped him soul-naked..
He's my mate. And Cowley's not sending us under because he thinks it's true.
He's sending us because we're his best men and we've been there before.
Bloody Doyle:Anxious Alien

He remembered Doyle’s wide-eyed stare, calm confidence fading to uncertainty, and
at the last, disbelief. Why had he left it so long to stop Williams?...All Doyle’s
self-sufficiency had crumbled and his breath had come shorter. He had looked wild
and beautiful, and part of Bodie’s delay had been his fascination and – admit it –
lust....Ray Doyle, totally dependent on him, W.A.P. Bodie? Sure, Doyle had depended
on him many times before – they saved each others’ lives with such regularity that
it hardly occasioned any comment – but this had been different, had had dark overtones
of dependency, of submission, of dominance...
Tender Comrade:Murphybabe

Sometimes his boss was more frank about these little assignments, sometimes he
couched it in discreet terms. Nonetheless, there was no misunderstanding between
them on what was required. There was, however, a question to be answered. How was
he going to "get to know" an artist?....What role did Cowley have planned for him?
He could hardly fake being another artist, so that left....
"Oh, no." Bodie frowned, having figured out what was in the Old Man's plans. "Sir,
I've never done anything like that before."
Cowley's lips twitched into a slight smile. "I understand that all you need do is
hold still for long periods. Surely you've done that on surveillance jobs."
"Not in the nude," Bodie replied tersely.
"Well, there's a first time for everything....."
The Art of Love:Alexandra

"Good evening, Sir William," the doorman said formally.
Bodie wasn't surprised that this man, who he'd never met before, knew his name.
Well, at least the name he was using for the undercover op. He gave the doorman a
cursory glance, wondering how much a custom-made dinner jacket cost for a bloke who
weighed in excess of three hundred pounds and stood a good five inches over six feet.
He felt like a dwarf next to this gorilla.
"'Evening," Bodie responded as he entered, calculating the best way to take the guard
with his bare hands. It would be an interesting match, if push came to shove, he reckoned.
"This way, sir," the guard said...."You are expected....." Undercover Revelations:LilyK

Wall-to-wall men. Young men with hard, muscled bodies, older men trying desperately
to compete, beautiful men, rough men, men with one thing on their minds. Sex. They
sized each other up, they went through the usual chat-up lines, they bought each
other drinks.... Doyle had been in such clubs during his days on the vice squad.
But he had never been in one as a patron, and he looked and watched with new eyes,
with a different sensibility. In the half hour since his arrival he had been hit on
eight times--some with subtle suggestions, most with blatant overtures, the men
openly wanting. Wanting him. But he gave each man a flat refusal. He calmly sipped
at his glass of warm brandy, and waited for the one man who would get a "yes."
A few minutes later, Bodie walked into the club.....
Dance While You Can:Alexandra

He hadn’t laid eyes on his partner for going on six weeks and it had been hell, the kind of hell Doyle wasn’t sure he’d be able to explain to Bodie in a million years. An ironic kind of hell given the case and Bodie’s role in it.....
They didn’t acknowledge one another of course, although Doyle knew Bodie had clocked
him.........
Word is Out:JoJo

It seemed impossible that Ray would be involved......Hell, he’d sacrificed his career
with the Met to turn in crooked cops. So how could he have joined with them now? But
Ray had also admitted having used drugs a few times when he lived on the streets...
Which was the real Doyle? It was said that a person’s character was developed by their
early experiences. Bodie laughed at himself. He was starting to think like Ross. But
Ray had had a rough childhood, leading him to do things that the grown up Doyle professed
to abhor. His own experiences as a youth had led him to the mercenaries and made him a
killer. He was still a killer. So maybe Ray hadn’t changed that much either. He took a
deep pull from the bottle and his thoughts turned in a different direction. How had he
been fooled by Ray all this time? They’d been so close....
Broken Trust:Merentha13

“His name is Rudolph Kruger. He’s rich, he’s arrogant, and he’s back and forth
frequently between here and Cape Town. I also have it on good authority he quietly
got engaged to the step-daughter of the ambassador’s brother two days before the bodies
washed ashore. Not a solid link to be sure, but still....."
“What’s the plan, then? Surveillance?”
“Aye. But I want something a little more up close and personal with Kruger...."
“So...?” prodded Bodie, keen as ever to get to the nuts and bolts of the thing...
“Why, one of you is going to ingratiate yourself into his inner circle, Bodie. I
have it on good authority that one of his bodyguards is about to slip on some very
nasty ice and do himself no good at all....
Into the Fire:Callisto

"Anybody tries to molest you, you just point out your big, bad, butch boyfriend and tell
'em I'm the jealous type."
"Hey! How come you're the boyfriend then? You're always on about being the pretty one
in this partnership. I think that makes me the jealous boyfriend."
Bodie blinked and pretended to consider that. Finally he sighed and shook his head.
"Sorry, Ray. It's true I'm the looker, but I'm bigger and tougher than you, you
delicate sod... 'Course they'll wonder what I see in your ugly mug, but they'll
think it's your hidden assets that hooked me."
Fools in Paradise: Caro Dee

"Come on, Ray, we take risks all the time, it's the job."
"Usually with good backup," Doyle countered swiftly. "I'm telling you: Courtney's
bad news."
"The enforced idleness is making you twitchy mate. Go and get a drink, or better still,
come to the club and relax. They've got a girl dancing almost nude with a dirty great
snake wrapped round her neck. It'll get your pulse pounding just watching her."
"And how many times have you seen her?" Doyle asked, fascinated despite himself.
"Nigh on every night," Bodie said and shot him a sly glance. "She comes on just
before I get me break, so I try and work down the right end of the bar just to get
the show. She's quite a looker."
"The girl or snake, "Doyle asked, amused.....
Smokescreen:Alicambs

"I'd just like to know what Cowley's trying to achieve, that's all. I mean... what
possible good can come from recruiting that sort of bloke?"
"If you can't beat 'em--join 'em," said one voice.
"Cowley's got his reasons--maybe he means to use him as a plant, undercover... that
sort of thing." said another...
"I still don't like it," the original protester said firmly. "How can we trust a bloke
that's already proved he can't be trusted?"
About to enter the room and find out what everyone was talking about, Doyle was frozen to
the spot just outside the door as another voice added its contribution to the debate.
"Doyle's all right. He's done his time, paid his dues to society and all that crap. If
Cowley sees fit to trust him I don't see that we can't."
Waiting to Fall:Rob

"What's my part in the plan?"
"You," Bodie said, with the air of someone saying something significant, "are going
to go eat breakfast. Go mingle, whatever it is you do.....Then I thought we might
engage in a spot of espionage," ....he could see Bodie's eyes sparkle with delight.
It was the same look he got when you handed him a box of grenades, a very large gun,
or the keys to a fast car. This was the exciting stuff, and he clearly loved every
minute of it. And Doyle loved when Bodie looked like that. It usually made him want
to give him more grenades. These days it was making him want—things he shouldn't.
"You've got the keys," Bodie continued. "I know where we're going. Henderson's on duty,
and he's likely to turn a blind eye seeing the two of us go down there. Even better,
he's lazy enough that he doesn't do his rounds as often as he should. We should have a
good few hours."
Arcadia:Sineala

"You do know Bodie can never return your feelings, don’t you?"
"He didn’t have any trouble before....."
"He was deep undercover, indeed had been for many months. He was looking for a distraction."
I don’t know why Cowley was baiting me, but I wasn’t about to roll over that easily.
"Whether or not I was a distraction for him, Mr Cowley, it is up to him to tell me and
not you."
Was that a slight twitch of his lips? If it was it soon disappeared back into the
stern persona.
When It All Comes Tumbling Down: Marjoram Max

"So you never really needed my help. That story about owing him money."
"I did need your help. I was undercover and I was in trouble. You saved my life, Ray."
"But you couldn't tell me the truth. You just ran out."
Bodie thought back to that final night two years ago, remembering how he had just
watched Doyle sleep, his face outlined by the moonlight that slipped in through old,
worn curtains. It had been the longest night of his life as he tried to decide what
he should do....
"You scared the hell out of me, Ray. I-I just wasn't ready."
" "Ready for what? To tell the truth?"
"To stay. And, yes, to tell you the truth."
"So why are you telling me now?"
".....Because I'm on a case now and you're involved."
Torch Song:Courtney Gray

"I don't think I caught that, Bodie. You have some problem with the assignment?"
The agent didn't speak, in fact his lips were pressed tightly together and the
controller of CI5 could imagine the pressure of the younger man's teeth grinding
against each other.
But the face before him was blank, a practised facade displaying no emotion. Cowley's
gaze softened a little as he looked at one of his best agents; he didn't relish giving
out this kind of assignment, in fact it left a rather sour taste in his mouth. But the
objective was important and he was in no doubt that for this particular job Bodie was
the best man.
Nine-Tenths:Cassidy

"You there.....Yes, you. I've seen you prowling around. Not a burglar are you?"
Before Doyle could respond, Lord Henry turned to Bodie. "And you, sir. Don't get
physical with me, young man. I can take you on you know. I'm not a duke without
learning a thing or two..."
"We're on the staff," Doyle quickly explained.
"Are you? Are you sure? Damned if I've seen you before. You do look familiar
though.....Oh, well, that's all right then. Carry on."
They thanked him and made their escape.....
Below Stairs:Sylvie Orp

The op had required them to pose as a gay couple and Bodie was amused to realise
that they really didn't have to act very differently than they usually did, more
affectionate certainly, especially Doyle and that was another thing that Bodie had
found amusing. Doyle threw himself into the part with gusto and Bodie liked this new
affectionate Doyle, he liked him a lot.
He hadn't expected Doyle to kiss him though...The day it had happened Bodie had been
standing at the window looking out to the street, willing the bad coppers to make
their move so that they could go home when Doyle had come up behind him. He could
feel the heat of Doyle's body through his clothes and he remembered thinking that
there was no reason for his partner to be standing so close behind him, the proximity
of his partner was making him feel hot and slightly uneasy.....
Office Romance:Livia Collins

shooting2kill — Thu, 04 Apr 2013 18:44:15 GMT
Visions of Bodie & Doyle:The Power and the ~~Glory~~ Vulnerability

As mentioned before (if anyone's out there) these are best viewed from a distance after a couple of glasses of red wine...

“Love me. Did you ever?”
Bodie swallowed hard. “I...'course I did, mate.” He thought back with a feeling of being
stunned. It hadn’t been like Marikka, something you fell into right away, desperate and
young and hungry for anyone. It had been a slow, burning, building, trusting sort of love,
a tenderness between them. A desire to keep Doyle safe at all costs, and for him to be happy.
Could hardly believe he’d ended it, to be honest. Some days he thought he must’ve been mad...
“But you don’t any more.” Doyle’s eyes were sad, wise, older than the rest of him, resigned
and so lonely. They were eyes to tug at the hardest heartstring. And Bodie’s weren’t, not
any more. Not for Doyle.
A Little at a Time: AnxiousAlien

"So, mon vieux," said the deep velvet voice of Tarquin...The top man; more than arms
dealer, more than mercenary commander..."It has been a long time……You want something,
non?......what is it you require?”
“......A war. I've had my fill of organisations. I want to get out into the field.
The front line."
Some soldiers were fighting machines; highly tuned, finely balanced, and the more
deadly and efficient for it. But inevitably, that very efficiency took its own toll,
and if the commanding officer failed to follow elementary precautions, the Bodies of
this world became--unsafe. A danger to others and to themselves. Of course, given time
and the right handling, the situation would resolve itself. The man would either break,
unwind, or be killed...
Endgame:Tarot

He quite desperately wanted to talk to someone – to Bodie – about his
apprehensiveness....Even if it was just to hear Bodie dismiss the feeling as
inevitable jitters after being absent from work for so long, it would have been
better than nothing......
Maybe it was just first-night nerves. It had been almost a year, after all, since
he had done anything like this. Come this close to a bullet. Another bullet, that
could rip and tear and burn and destroy...
No. No, no, no. He couldn't think like this. It would be fine. It was a tight set-up,
as safe as anything like this could ever be, and it was his job. He could do it.
He wished, fiercely, enviously, for just a fraction of Bodie's insouciance to see him
though this.
The Uses of Adversity:Izzie7

It took some time to find the grave in the dark, but his sense of direction was good,
and his need for a some type of catharsis was even greater......"Bet you're surprised
to see me, aren't you, sir?" he said softly. "Bit surprised to be here meself. Never
figured I was the type to be climbing into cemeteries in the dead of night to hold
seances. Corpses don't generally have a lot of conversation." Bodie's head dropped
wearily. "Listen, you old goat, I've got to ask you something, and you've got to tell
me straight. No more of your damn triple think..." He swallowed the growing lump in
his throat and looked up at the starless sky, letting the drizzle wash his face and
cool his burning eyes. Looking down at the grave again, he whispered, "You've got to
tell me, please. Is Doyle right? Tell me, George, am I crazy?"
Where the Worms are:Pamela Rose

There was a bigger crash from downstairs, this time of breaking glass, and a
thump and then it all went quiet.....He pulled the gun up once again to firing
position. The pain was excruciating, and he found his vision greying out at the sides
and narrowing in to a pinprick. The sound of the movement downstairs changed...
the creak of a foot on a stair tread.....
Doyle wondered if it would be easier or harder, dying knowing who he was, knowing who
wasn't here with him, knowing how alone he was.
"Oh, Bodie," he breathed....and then there were bullets zinging through the air and
punching into the wall behind him and no more time to think of love lost or love
missed. There was only time to duck and hide and hope.
The Persistence of Memory:PR Zed

Sentiment. Blind, bloody dangerous sentiment — it made you vulnerable. It opened you
up to betrayal and loss. He’d learnt that lesson long ago. Everything changed when you
let someone in; their true colours were revealed. Lisa had left him after they’d reached
land, Rachel hadn’t told him about Krivas, Marikka had betrayed him. He’d sworn never to
have that Achilles heel, never to feel so much for someone else that he’d set himself up
for loss: of them, of himself. It was too risky; It wasn’t worth the pain of —
Maybe he thought it was worth the risk.
Doyle’s voice was in his head, from long ago — when? Dreisinger. Dreisinger dying on
the tarmac because he’d wanted Christine. Didn’t that just prove his point? Doyle had
agreed, hadn’t he? Doyle again.....
Point of View:PFL

“And ... I’ve seen enough of him ... of the two of you ... at work ... Well, I’ve
seen enough to know that he’ll make you happy. The way he looks at you. It’s obvious.
I see him sometimes ... He’s noticed the way your hair curls just after it’s been washed.
The way the smell of you changes as the day goes on. Hasn’t he? Everything. And he tells you.
Can’t help himself. Though it’s obvious, anyway, that he thinks about you all the time...
Sometimes I see him look at you, and I know ... he’s remembering.
“It doesn’t frighten him, you see. For him it’s ... it’s wonderful. He wants it. He likes
feeling his heart ... turn over. Doesn’t frighten him. Not at all.
Freezing:Helen Raven

He had wished so long and so hard for this meeting, that it was hard for Doyle to
take in the fact that he was now stood face to face with Bodie. But there was no
trace of his cheerful, easy-going partner in the man before him. The Bodie that
stood returning his gaze had been chiselled from obsidian and sapphire. A hard,
dangerous man without a spark of kindliness in his expression.
Doyle opened and closed his mouth. He had rehearsed this conversation so many
times, but now he had the opportunity to speak the words he so wanted to say,
he found they simply wouldn’t come…and what’s more, he knew that whatever he
said was not going to be enough. Still, he had to try.
“We need to talk,” he blurted. “There are things I need to say.” “But nothing
hat I want to hear,” Bodie replied stonily
A Second Chance:sestra_prior

Could go for hours without thinking about it; sometimes a whole day, seeing Ray,
working with him. No problem. And then, something'd get to him. Just something simple,
like the way Ray'd grin sometimes, with that busted tooth; that strange remote look
he'd get at times when he just looked so bloody beautiful he didn't seem real......
Christ ... He shouldn't still feel so much, such a tangle of emotions -- all for Ray.
But they all still seemed to be there, present and correct: jealousy, love, frustration,
resentment ... And temptation, of course.
Scenes from the Edge:Kate Maclean

I should be asking myself if Bodie would want me for the rest of our lives. I can't
answer that question. As far as I'm concerned, though, the answer is yes. I do want
him. Want to live with him and be with him. And, since this means I'll have to quit
the squad and I can think about that without too much regret, I suppose that's the answer.
I will have to quit. I can't live with Bodie and know I could get killed any day.
Where would that leave him? Out on his own again.
Yeah. He's blind but that doesn't mean he's lost his brain or his ability to function.
And I can't promise him happy ever after, either. Who knows what the hell could happen
in five or ten year's time. We're both of us going to have to take a chance on one another
Independence Day:Eve Abel Unpro 12

Cowley had assigned us a surveillance job. Peter Malloy was an Irish no-hoper. Just
out of his teens and he'd decided his burning ambition was to be an IRA hard man....
There'd been hints of the Irish mob planning something nasty and (Cowley) wanted to
see if Malloy knew anything about it....
I was about to suggest we call it a day when the little bastard ducked into a sandwich
shop.... then I noticed the bloke he was talking to: Stavros. Bomb-maker extraordinaire
and wanted by every security force in Europe.....Doyle was looking as gobsmacked as I
felt. I couldn't believe it, a stupid git like Malloy leading us to a truly big fish
like Stavros. You never know what the day will bring you in a mob like ours.
As we watched, Stavros handed Malloy a pack..... Descent:PR Zed

"No one informed me of what was happening!” Doyle’s words were bitter.
Cowley removed his glasses and took in his agent’s belligerent profile....
The fine trembling was only visible now if one looked for it and was mostly
due to exhaustion. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he was appalled and
shamed by what he was putting his agent through to complete this operation.
Maybe Ross had been right, he thought...
There was an impenetrable sadness around Doyle. He and his partner, Bodie,
were close. It was more than losing a colleague, Doyle had lost a friend....
Triple Think:Merentha13

Doyle was off to my left, deeper in the woods. He had better cover over there,
the lucky bastard......The second bullet had hit my thigh. Not a dangerous wound,
not yet--it had hit muscle, not bone, not a major artery--but it was bleeding like
a bastard and it hurt like a bastard when I so much as shifted.

But it was all right, because Doyle was here. Doyle would save me, if he could. And
if he couldn't, Doyle would remember me. I was more sure of that than I was the world
was round. I smiled in spite of the pain, in spite of the mud, in spite of the thought
of death waiting for me in these woods, with a skeletal leer and a too-sharp scythe.
Mud and Remembrance:PR Zed

“Where is he?”
“Such devotion. I don’t trust you, Bodie. Are you bugged?....Your partner won’t
thank you for it...."
“No, damn you.” Bodie hissed in utter frustration. “Doyle has nothing to do with you,
or what happened. It’s me you want, let him go and you can have me.”
“There is only one thing I want, and you know it.” The voice was suddenly full of hate
and Bodie was abruptly fearful for his partner’s safety. “Are you going to tell me?”
“Tell me where Doyle is first?”
“You are hardly in a position to make demands......”
“I won’t bargain over a dead man. Either I see Doyle alive, or I’m gone and the
police can have you.” He waited and for one awful moment, thought he had pushed too
far......
Doyle and Bodie - Bit by Bit:Jaicen5

Sleeping with Doyle had been intense, sensual but hardly romantic, and Bodie had no
idea if the extent of his feelings for Doyle were reciprocated. What if, to Doyle,
he was no different than the hundreds of other willing women -- and men -- that
he’d bedded over the years? Why should he be any different?
It made him feel like an idiot, but suddenly Bodie was beginning to understand a
woman’s eternal fear that they wouldn’t be respected in the morning, that they
were offering something of themselves which wouldn’t be returned........
Hopes and Fears:Rhianne

Intense, scruffy, mercurial Ray Doyle was an enigma. He had the compassion that Bodie
eschewed, but it was paired with an uncompromising sense of right and wrong, of black
and white, of justice for all. The actions taken to satisfy that fierce sense of justice
didn’t always mix well with his innate compassion. Doyle wore guilt like a second skin.
That’s where Bodie came in. He knew just how to handle Doyle’s moods....(Cowley)
understood Bodie and his motivations. He had seen that the ex-mercenary needed
something, or someone, to balance him. Something to soften the hard edges he
displayed to the world, something to breach the high walls that protected a
surprising vulnerability. Someone to teach him that compassion wasn’t necessarily
a handicap.
Ghosts of Christmas Past Merentha13

Doyle. Somebody had shot at Doyle. Somebody was toying with him before killing him.
I looked on in amazement as Bodie's normally expressionless eyes filled with worry
before he had time to turn away from me. I knew my expression mirrored his.
If somebody killed Doyle, I knew Bodie would never recover. He never cared for anybody.
Even his closest friends were kept as casual acquaintances. But Doyle. I knew as soon
as I saw them Doyle was different. Doyle had somehow gotten past every barrier Bodie
had ever built. That alone earned him my respect, but Bodie's next words shook me to
the core, and increased my opinion of Doyle thousand fold.
He's my friend Marty. I don't want to lose him. Damn. How the hell could I help?
Through the eyes of an observer:Frankie McStein

....nothing had happened between them in the year since that kiss. The subject hadn't
even come up. They'd just gone on as normal, and Bodie had ached, and longed, and
wondered if the whole thing had been a dream, except that sometimes Doyle did
something, or said something, or looked at him a certain way, and Bodie remembered
he was loved.
Valentine: Maddalia: Proslib CD

The truth of it was he knew exactly why Bodie was reacting this way. Helplessness,
fear, anger—potent, dangerous emotions that came with the job and could be diffused
in a myriad of different outlets, but this was different. This long, tragic night
had broken down the last of the walls they'd pretended existed between them, the
final barrier that had separated partners and friends from something much more.
That's when it clicked for Ray, when the scales of denial fell away from his eyes.
Bodie had every reason to believe that Doyle had died in that lorry, and finding him
alive had made him more vulnerable than ever. Had their positions been reversed, Ray
would've reacted much the same, willing to strike out in anger instead of facing the
truth of what his partner's death—or life—meant to him. Field and Fountain, Moor and Mountain:Veronica

shooting2kill — Wed, 06 Mar 2013 16:33:23 GMT
Visions of Bodie & Doyle: more light relief.....

"So let me get this straight," Doyle said about half an hour later. "Cowley wants me
to pass myself off as a rent boy in order to sleep with a member of the MoD for the purposes
of finding out whether he's in bed--literally--with Albanian intelligence?"
It stunk. That was the only term that Doyle could use to describe it. Not that Doyle
hadn't done the same thing many, many times where women were concerned, but never with
a bloke before. And never as a ... professional.
Jax blinked. "I'm afraid so," he said.....
"Why me? Do I look like a rent-boy or something?" Jax hesitated, and Doyle, not inclined to
be merciful, was struck with awful inspiration. "Let me guess," he said brutally. "I look
like the ones he takes home with him, right?"
"I'm afraid so." Reconnections:Madmogs

Doyle scowled and raised the R/T to his mouth. "You sunk my submarine, you bastard."
He heard his partner chuckle on the other end, then spotted a light come on in the
kitchen of the cottage they were watching. "Someone's making some dinner. Looks like
the blond."
"Oh," Bodie replied blandly. "Thrilling, that is. I'll have to make a note in my diary."
"'M just saying." Doyle said.
"Yeah, I know. Sun's going down, mate."
Doyle raised an eyebrow. "Oh, thank God for that. I thought I was going blind."
Comrades:Vermilioncola/Vermillon Angel

"The way you treat your women I don't know how you avoid all the aggro."
"No, I don't suppose you do," I told him with a condescension I knew would get right up
his nose. "But we can't all be born tall, dark, handsome and engagingly modest like me."
"One inch you've got over me," he snorted.....
"Ah, but it's what I do with it that slays 'em."
Butterfingers:HGdoghouse

....“Oi!” he said softly. Bodie looked around and Doyle leaned forward so that no-one, least
of all McCabe, could hear him. “I’d better warn you – I’m crap at darts.....”

“Don’t worry, mate.....I’m brilliant enough for both of us. We’ll walk it. You just
keep the beers coming.” He tilted his head slightly and his smile changed, becoming
somehow warmer.“That’s what partners are for – right?”
Coming Home:SAC

"Listen to that," Doyle greeted Bodie gloomily as he joined him in the VIP room.
"I mean, just listen."
Bodie caught the end of the song on the radio and understood immediately. Time for
Doyle's standard speech on how Christmas was all about consumerism: the third world
starving while other people ate turkey and gave each other stupid presents they didn't
want.
"'Orrible song, that. They should shoot Gary Glitter." Doyle was obviously, and predictably,
warming up to his topic. "It's getting worse than the Sound of Music. In fact it is worse.
They play this over and over and at least you only get the lonely bloody goatherd once."
So Here It is, Merry Christmas: Brenda K

“How d’you feel...about Bognor Regis then?”
...... the voice was definitely stronger. Bodie looked at him, in all his washed out
glory, listing sideways a little on the pillows. His curls were matted and everywhere,
he was trying to breathe oh so steadily just for Bodie, and most importantly of all,
both corners of his mouth were trying not to twitch too hard. And all the while he was
holding on, gripping Bodie’s hand tightly enough to bring the sweat and tears out in
both of them.....
“Don’t know, never met him.”
“Got a mate...with a caravan.”
“’Course you have, sunshine.”
Doyle smiled.........
Time Will Tell:Callisto

“Playing again, Bodie?”
His.....tone didn’t faze Bodie who merely replied, ‘Ah, more like educating, sir.” With
an artfully angelic expression, he clarified. “About the size of our weapons....”
Competing with each other more like. Again! As if the young women in the typing pool needed
any further encouragement – they were already in awe of the field agents and the dangerous
risks involved in their everyday lives and it took very little for men like Doyle or Bodie
to take advantage of that awe in their endless game of one-upmanship.
“Well she did ask,” Bodie murmured to no one in particular. Second Guess: Jaicen5

“Good is it?”
Bodie didn't even look up. “Very.”
“Then read me something.”
This time, the dark head rose..... “Aren't you supposed to be watching the building?”
“I can look through the binoculars and listen to you at the same time.”
“No.”
“Worried you won't be able to pronounce the big words correctly?”
“.......You really want me to read poetry to you?”
Darkness at Noon:Draycevixen

Bodie liked children. He'd never met one he didn't like. Tommy Winter, however, rather
like the unholy Damien, was a different creature altogether......

"Tommy, do you know what your dad does for a living?"

....The boy's reply was immediate. "He fills an innernational economic nish, providin'
the private citizen with the means to resist fishist dictators -- like you!"

"Memorized all that, did you?" asked Bodie.......

"Yeah, I got a good membery.....And you're still a bunch of fishists."
Babysitting Tommy:Rebelcat

Suddenly tired of playing, he wraps his lips around me, pulls half of my length into
his mouth, widening to accommodate my girth without difficulty. He closes around me,
takes one last moment to savour the aroma, the flavours – and bites down. Hard, without
mercy. The sensation is incredible, indescribable – my undoing.
As I drift into dark moist oblivion, I am barely aware of the voice beyond, piercing the
fog.
“Oi, Bodie! What d’you think you’re doing? Doc said strict diet, sunshine, and that doesn’t
include scoffing Swiss roll when you reckon nobody’s looking. Now give that here.”
And, like that, the wet heat is gone, leaving me in pieces.
Forbidden Pleasure:Bistokids

Fight or flight, they call it, that tide of adrenaline drenching your nerves and then
receding, leaving you tingling, on edge, ready for anything. And it's just filled Doyle
again.
That can't have been accidental.........
That was his hand on my arse again, damn it. What is he playing at?
.....Just mates, larking about, then?
No. Doyle don't believe that for a minute. It's deliberate and it means something. Something
more than just larking about.
But what? Is Bodie trying to wind Doyle up? Trying to put him down? Trying to hint that Doyle
doesn't measure up to Bodie's standards of masculinity? Doyle has already had the comments
about the art classes.....
Fight or Flight:ML Mead

"Must be nice, having someone wait on you hand and foot... anticipating your every
need..."
"D'you suppose that's why he never married? Gets it all at work?" Doyle asked.
"All?" Bodie's eyebrow went up, his expression half scandalized... "Can you imagine
Betty...."
"No. I can't!"
Bodie shook his head. "Problem is, I can. Can see her kneeling there between his legs,
sucking him off--very efficiently, mind you, our Betty is efficient in everything!--while
he gets on with the paperwork! On the phone, perhaps, to the minister..."
"You've a horrible mind, Bodie!"
"Ah, but if it weren't for my horrible mind...."
Building Justice:DVS

"....if you aren't confident of him getting a yes, you must think that Doyle can't be
relied upon to say no.....".

Bodie rolled his eyes. "Doyle saying no doesn't worry me. Who Cowley will lumber me
with when Doyle gets suspended for putting McCabe's dick in a pencil sharpener does."

Speaking of Doyle......

Bodie went back to the surveillance. The light was on. "It's almost time."
Fly on the Wall:Lezlie Conch

Doyle puffed out his cheeks. 'Thirty years, though.' He lifted his near-empty glass.
'Here's to thirty more.'

'If we're lucky.'

'We're an aging population, mate. We could live to a hundred and fifty.'

'Not me, mate. My knees won't hold out that long.'

'So get knee replacements.'

'They don't last. Anyway, I don't want foreign objects inside my body....."
Back at the Scarsdale: Maddalia

Bodie frowned and sucked in his gut. It made less of a difference than he would have
liked. He eyed Ray sullenly....still as slender as the day they were partnered together.
Just wasn't right. "How come you're still so skinny?"
"Genetics...... All the Doyle men have fast metabolisms."
Bloody unfair to be born into the wrong family. Then again, he could still draw the
ladies. If he put in the effort. Well, the more mature ones at any rate......
"Ray, you don't think I'm fat, do you?"
At the plaintive tone, Ray looked up....examining Bodie with wary concern before
breaking into a cheerful leer. "Looks good on you, it does. Nice and cushy when
I'm rolling around on top of you."
Not nearly reassuring enough to suit Bodie. "You do think I'm fat...."
Cream Puffed Up:Caro Dee

Doyle stands outside The Swan & Mitre and takes a couple of deep, fortifying breaths.
This is ridiculous, he chides himself. He’s faced life-threatening situations more
times than he can remember without hesitation, and yet he’s nervous about walking
into a bloody pub for a drink.
He should be feeling the cold, standing out here like a spare part, but nerves and
adrenalin are proving to be an impressive form of insulation, and he’s thankful for
the cooling chill of the night air.....
His heart is beating so fast, Doyle wryly considers what a cruel twist of fate it
would be if it chose this moment to give out.......
The Meeting:Angelci5

"I am not," Doyle said forcefully, a definite curl to his lip, "sleeping in that!"

..."What's wrong with it?"

"What's wrong with it? Look at it!" He tentatively poked at the khaki-coloured sleeping
bag with his foot, seemingly afraid that something was going to leap out and poke him back.

"All good gear this," his partner protested. "Army surplus."

"Yeah, but whose army? The bloody Kaiser's?"
Camping For Beginners or My Guy.... Rope:Sally Fell

"There's something green in here, Doyle."
"Yeah. Avocado."
"'ave a what?"
"Avocado. Bacon and avocado. You like bacon."
"Bacon and avocado?"
"Try it; s'OK."
I took a bite. Chewed a bit. Swallowed. Tried another bite. It wasn't bad, but I
wasn't about to admit it.
"Well?"
"I suppose it'll keep me from starvin'. I don't suppose you bought a Mars bar as
well?"
Blind Obsession:Joules Taylor & Carol Good

"Remember that massage parlour we raided the other day?"
Bodie snickered. "Did you see Anson's face? When the bloke begged him to hold off
just five more seconds?"
"And Anson said, sarcastic, like a joke, 'shall I go out and come in again?'"
"And Cowley said--!" Incoherent with laughter they finished it together, "'--
I think that's his line, don't you?'"
Snorting, Bodie said, "And you always say the old man's got no sense of humour."
Doyle said, "Think he ever uses a massage parlour?"
"I'd rather not know......"
Wonderful Tonight:Sebastian

"Individual sponsorships are bad for communities. They create two classes of people,
the ones who get money and the ones who don't."

"Christ, Doyle! What do you expect me to do? Tell the little buggers, sorry mates,
I'm cutting you off in order not to perpetuate the class system?"

"....did this kid really carry his little brother to the aid station all by himself?"

"....You could sponsor him," said Bodie. "...I've got an extra application form here....
You can try to fight it, but you know that face is going to stay with you...Makes your
underprivileged inner city kids look like spoiled little brats, doesn't he?"

"You're an arsehole, Bodie." Kofi's dark eyes seemed to be staring straight at Doyle....
Charity Begins at Home:Rebelcat

shooting2kill — Sun, 11 Nov 2012 15:48:50 GMT
Visions of Bodie & Doyle: "The Darkness has its own light": shades of darkness and light. Shadows.

I didn't know them, but of them: seen the two of them at HQ a time or two in passing;
heard a variety of tales about them in the restroom, some taller than others...Didn't
take much effort for me to peg Doyle's partner, Bodie, as a useful, elegant thug. Cool
under all manner of pressure, steady as a rock under fire, and utterly dependable - unless
his partner was threatened. You knew exactly where you stood with a man like Bodie at your
back. You knew he'd be at your back come hell or high water....as long as his partner was
safe...Doyle wasn’t the easy read Bodie was....fiery scruff to Bodie's cool elegance.....
lion in skin-tight moleskins and red Kickers...I'd only seen Doyle a few times, but there
was never anything consistent about him to pin down. Boa constrictor one moment, lion the next...
Lone Dancer:istia

Bodie wanted to close his eyes, look away, anything to deny the existence of the photo.....
His heart pounded hard against his ribs, trying to escape and find Doyle perhaps. Bodie
tried to clear his throat, get some saliva on his tongue. He was dry as dust and unable
to think clearly. It was now or never, he had to turn the picture over and examine it for
clues. Filter out the horrible image and act like someone who knew what he was doing....
Now he had to be analytical — Doyle, huddled in a corner, his face a mask of bruises and
blood. One arm was held awkwardly to his body—broken, maybe? He was looking straight at
the photographer, a familiar jut to his chin, obviously defiant and angry.
<a href=">Worth a Thousand Words: Dawnwind

Despite enjoying the fresh air, Doyle did not dawdle. He worried all the time he was
out. When he got back, the butterflies that surfaced in his stomach during the ten
seconds between him pressing the buzzer and Bodie answering were irritating in the
extreme. He blamed Draper......Doyle did not appreciate seeing the reflection of his
own, almost constant, yet largely unexpressed fears for the life of his partner —
his lover — stark and unhidden in the pretty brown eyes of a man he hardly knew.
Doyle didn’t know what thought was worse: that Bodie saw the appeal of those eyes,
that man, as clearly as he did, or that Bodie might see Draper, the romantic, with
all his outward displays of emotion, as the epitome of an ideal lover.
Measuring Scars:Maddalia

He could still remember. He could still see the body of Paul Coogan slumped against
the wall. Dead. Dead from the blow that Doyle had delivered to him. Dead because he,
Doyle, had allowed himself to be goaded into hitting the man.
Doyle knew that he and Bodie had gone into see Paul Coogan with the intention of pushing
the young man. Of maybe getting him to reveal something. Or even forcing him to hit out
at one of them. And Coogan had.....
Something Else To Think About:Darby Brennan

The shadows that had worked for Maynard would work for them too, no matter what had
happened to the light. They paused, waited again to make sure they’d not been spotted,
gradually made their way to one of the side doors....
Too fast Bodie thought, not daring to say it yet again, it was all going too fast, and
Doyle only just back on active duty...
A corridor stretched darkly in front of them, lined with mostly empty coathooks, the
occasional cupboard and what seemed like a hundred deadly doors....They should have
come in at either end of the building - standard procedure, that - but he was strangely
loathe to leave Doyle, and Doyle it seemed, had forgotten his rulebook too. Of course
it was in the small print that CI5 ignored their own rules when necessary, but.....
The Middle of It All:Slantedlight

It had been close, but there had been closer. It had been tense, but he'd been in tighter
situations, he and Bodie both, without this strange sort of thrumming along his nerves
afterward. Odd flashes of the last few days kept painting themselves with an artist's eye
for detail on the back of his eyelids. The skin on Bodie's back as the vigilante coppers
ripped his shirt open, pressing him into the wall, preparing to whip him. The dark hair
and vivid eyes against the cheap cover as he sniffed about having to share ... with a
fella. The defiance stretching his features taut as he told the worst of the lot to go
to hell; the way he'd come out of the darkness, flanking the men in the car park when
they'd attempted to bully him. The length of him sprawled under the thin blanket in the
very early morning light....The feel of those hands in his hair. Bloody hell.
Grapevine:Brenda Antrim/Sue Castle (can also be found at the Circuit Archive)

"You scared the hell out of me, Ray."
And there it was, that dark look in Bodie's eyes, the elephant in the room. One of Dalí's
monstrous elephants, all long, spindly spider legs, carrying the whole room on its back.
Looking into Bodie's eyes was like falling from the fire escape all over again; Doyle turned
away before he could hit bottom.
"I know," he said. "I'm sorry."
As suddenly as it had appeared, the intensity in Bodie's eyes faded. "It wasn't your fault."
"No, but still..." Doyle closed his eyes and found it a struggle to open them again.
He heard the armchair creak, and he looked up.
Bodie was standing beside the sofa, between Doyle and the lamp. At this angle, in the
dim light, he wasn't much more than a silhouette. "Do you want to go to bed?"
Melt With You: Sarah K

Doyle was not feeling sorry for himself at all. He just couldn't seem to convince anyone
else that it was the truth. He could have got a date, even at the last minute, but he
hadn't felt like going through the ritual. All right, so it was old-fashioned, but he
just didn't feel right taking a girl to dinner on Valentine's Day unless it was a
serious affair. If he and Ann had still been.....
No, that was pointless conjecture. Even if he hadn't helped to arrest her father, they
wouldn't have lasted this long. Too different, they had been.
He was beginning to think about cooking dinner and having a drink - though not necessarily
in that order - when the buzzer went off, a single long drone that was as familiar as it was unexpected...
At Last:Sarah K

Doyle was already there, the air of defiance suggesting he had been kept waiting and
had yet to receive a reprimand. Cowley looked up at Bodie's arrival, immediately putting
down the papers he was reading. This was not a good sign...
"I have just been informed of your behaviour," he began, his voice low, each word spoken
slowly and carefully but with an edge that suggested a terrible anger.."You were warned
a month ago that I would not tolerate a repeat of your previous behaviour. Yet here you
are. Again....."
"It was my fault, sir."
"Was it indeed?...And I suppose those bruises and that black eye were self-inflicted?"
"I hit him, first and last. Bodie didn't raise a fist."
"Only because I didn't have a chance to," Bodie shot back, unaware that Cowley was watching
them closely, a keen look in his eye.....
Fruit of the Spirit:Cherilyn

He knew he should wait for Murphy and the rest of the squad - he’d left a message with
Control - but he’d heard voices....Bodie taunting his captors. True to form, that, he
smiled bitterly. In the mockery, he recognised Bodie’s last attempt to force the Russian’s
hand and maybe create an opening to get away, to save himself. Doyle’s gut twisted with
the realisation that Bodie thought he was on his own, that no one was coming to his rescue.
Doyle knew that if the goading didn’t provide Bodie with a chance of escape, Bodie would up
the stakes until the Russians killed him. The man would not allow himself to be taken out
of Britain. The time to move was now.......
The Stuff of Nightmares: Merentha13

People got in to trouble underestimating Doyle. The way he flaunted his body, part street urchin,
part Renaissance angel (he could imagine Ray’s filthy laugh if he told him that), most men
dismissed him until they’d learned better, usually the hard way. Bodie hadn’t though. He
might have been trained by the army but his instincts were honed in the jungle where dangerous
things often came in camouflage. The squad had laughed when Bodie had asked Cowley to partner
them but then they’d had to fight Ray and they’d stopped laughing.....
By the Book:Draycevixen

Bodie recognised Mad Dog’s tools of trade in one quick sweep of the room, knives of all
shapes and sizes, a homemade stun gun bound with yellow and black electrical tape and a
used syringe. Doyle’s watch and holster hung from a towel hook on the wall and his favourite
denim shirt, button less and blood stained had been dropped casually in the corner together
with lengths of bloodied cord and a piece of rolled up cloth which had been fashioned into a
gag....The smell of fear and body fluids told Bodie all he needed to know. He’d seen enough.
Murphy had been right but he had to see it, had to share Ray’s pain somehow. The sight of
Mad Dog’s instruments had plunged Bodie straight back to the dark days of Africa when he
learnt how really depraved the human mind could be......One Good Deed:ci5mates

He listened.
Voices from the front room, television turned too loud in the room off the kitchen.
Footsteps overhead. With any luck that was Ray -- on his own.
Soundlessly, he crossed the scratched lino. He had an angled view of the front room.
Three of the usual suspects and the sandy man -- who was catching hell for not using The
Signal. With the fourth man watching telly, that left one villain unaccounted for. And
Ray......
Bullet With Your Name:JGL

And there it was, the two of them allied against outsiders as always; as fucking always
happened, even at the slightest, most inane provocation. My gut clenched at this bleeding
familiar sign of how inextricable they were, walled in together by choice. By Bodie's choice,
gallingly, and Bodie himself ever chinking cracks or gaps that appeared, from the minute to
the lorry-sized, to make sure they stayed snug in their two-man fortress.
In With the Old:One Year On:istia

"'Eh, and who are you?" A slight touch of the Midlands disrupted the quiet.....
He stared up at the figure.
"Said, who *are* you.....?"
"Just resting my eyes. Ignore me, and maybe I'll go away."
"Didn't say at the Estate Agent's that this place came with its own ghost - though there
was the mixup with the key. Look, you homeless or something?"
"Don't be daft. If you're here to look at the apartment, then look while you can. Leave me
be." Bodie leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes...
Halcyon Days:golden_bastet

I knew they were lovers from the moment I saw them. It wasn't that they were obvious about
it--not the types to be pawing each other--but there was something in the way they acted
together that marked them as a couple.....
Doyle was the one you noticed first. He was all rumpled curls and slanted eyes and the life
in him was like quicksilver. He glowed with it. He was the one who was the most immediately
attractive. But the other presence was as strong in its own way. Bodie. The Heathcliff type...
large, dark and brooding, and curiously handsome in a way that Doyle was not.
I figured they were going to be trouble.....
Crying for the Moon:Fanny Adams

So this is how it’s going to end.
The final whistle has blown signalling the finale to our season. A bloody, messy finish.
Bodie down for the count. Me staring death in the face, literally.
If the villain doesn’t end me, Cowley will. He’ll definitely have something to say about
disregarding procedure, not to mention disobeying a direct order to wait for back up in
order to save my partner. I can hear the old man now. But that doesn’t matter. What does
matter is Bodie, slumped unconscious not two feet from me, head resting in a slowly growing
puddle of blood.
I’m sorry, mate. Didn’t get here in time.......
A Date with a Bullet:Merentha 13

All of a sudden he became aware that someone was standing in the archway, a dark silhouette.
An unsettling image for a man who lived by shooting at shadows; although he knew it must be
Bodie still he found it disturbing.
"Okay, mate?" the shadow murmured.....
Bodie's shadow stayed there a moment longer, head turned towards him eyelessly, then it
slipped away. Doyle lay tensely, wakefully at the edge of the bed, and listened to Mary's
giggles, the slaps and scuffles and whispers. Which, some time later, became either in his
imagination on the edge of sleep or in reality whimpers, then moans; the rhythmic creak of
the bed. Doyle touched himself restlessly, head turning to one side on the pillow....Feeling
unreasonably alone, Doyle shut his eyes and blocked out the world.
Wonderful Tonight:Sebastian

[WARNING:SPOILERS!!]
Words were coming through the phone, words that did not make sense; ‘car crash last night’,
‘everything possible done for Jillian, of course’, ‘such a tragedy for you, I do understand’
and then a seemingly well-rehearsed mumble about ‘viewing the body if desired’ and collecting
the death certificate, and finally the click of the phone being replaced the other end and
silence, silence in which Ray was staring forward, seeing nothing, still holding the phone.

*Bodie’s wife*?
This Week It Rained:Halotolerant

...even if Bodie had not been watching him at the party, he watched him at other times, in
other places. Not just when he had to watch him to synchronize some strategic move on a case,
or to communicate something with a nod of the head......No, he just sometimes.....watched him.
It made Doyle self-conscious.
It made him feel warm.
He found himself unconsciously inviting Bodie’s stare. Positioning himself. Trying to guess
what Bodie was thinking or feeling. Trying to catch his attention.
Silent Star:Fajrdrako (Elizabeth Holden)

"I just think maybe we'd be better off apart," Doyle said quietly. "Me and Bodie," he
added, though the explanation hadn't been necessary.
Cowley took a deep breath and let out a sigh. He'd gone through enough soul searching
when deciding what to do about Bodie and Doyle's relationship, when they'd requested a
flat. He didn't want to be forced into playing the agony aunt to keep them together.
"Don't be melodramatic, Doyle."
"I'm not, sir." At least that showed some of the old Doyle fire. "I'm really not. But
we've both been miserable since I've been back. I want out......I'm no use to you, whatever
you say. And I'm worse than that, a liability...."
In the Bleak Midwinter:PRZed

It took a while for Doyle to realise he was actually awake... His breathing was calm
and even but gradually, as awareness crept up, fear caught in his throat. He was tied,
tied and drugged if the bitter taste in his mouth was any indication. With no idea of
who had restrained him or why, he forced himself to hold the uncomfortable position,
feigning unconsciousness a bit longer. If only he could control his thudding heart he
might be able to pull it off.....
Countless questions drifted through his sluggish mind but his immediate memory stayed
frustratingly out of reach. Where the hell was Bodie? Were they together when this had
happened? It was damn likely considering they spent just about every waking moment in
each other’s company.
A Trophy Highly Prized:Ci5mates

"Aww, darling, you mean you don't want to give me a bath?"
"...Given a choice in the matter, I'd take you out and chuck you in the duck pond. Easier
by half."
The pout was back. "You don't love me."
"...Course I do. Just overawed is all. Not everyday I get my hands on tall dark and
beautiful..." He paused, took a deep breath and nodded at Bodie, "You need a hand or can
you manage?"
"Raymond, the day I can't manage to get out of my own clothes is the day you can take me
out and shoot me...."
Bodie started struggling with his sling. Doyle managed to watch for nearly a minute before
succumbing to the bitten lips and badly concealed winces. "Here," he said, pushing Bodie's
hands away, "I won't tell if you don't."
Betwixt and Between:Josey

A small sound caught his attention. His hand on his pistol, he paused, head cocked. From
behind the closed bedroom door where Ioan and Vitali slept, he could hear noises and a
small thump. He cautiously walked to the door and ever so slowly turned the knob. With the
light of a small bedside table, he could see two figures on the bed, writhing under the
sheets, and he could hear soft groans and low moans. Blushing to his roots, he realized
that the two young men were having sex. Eyes widening, Bodie carefully stepped back and s
tarted to close the door, but the sound of a voice caught his attention. He didn't
understand many of the words being spoken, but the tone was clear. The two men were in
love....The murmur of voices faded away, replaced by soft moans once again. With his mouth
dry and his heart pounding, he closed the door and leaned back on it, his eyes closed...
State Secrets:LilyK

	The briefing room was fully at capacity, the crowd of agents hard pressed to make space for Cowley as he made his way to the front. Bodie and Murphy settled against the wall on one side, near the chalkboard which was, for once, ominously empty... “Ladies and gentlemen.” The Controller spoke into the silence. “The last few days have given us an aeroplane crash, a stock market collapse, and wind and rain some have called the storm of the century. Today has dealt us something worse… very much worse, I’m afraid.” Cowley pulled his spectacles off and set them on the podium in front of him, and looked around at his gathered agents. “Approximately twenty minutes ago, Lord Louis Mountbatten and several members of his family were killed in an explosion aboard his boat, off the coast of Ireland.” There were a few audible gasps... “... and great harm will befall the kingdom …” Murphy’s quiet comment broke the silence in the room. Should Harm Befall Us:Ubicaritas(Janet)
	There was only one building along the seafront street tall enough for the shooter to have shot down on the promenade. An old fashioned place, the Old Ship Hotel, all white washed Victorian splendour.... Bodie stopped to orient himself. He caught a glimmer of sun on metal up on the roof of the hotel. There — gun still in place... Was the sniper up there, too? Or had he fled once he’d initiated the chaos? Bound to be other innocent bystanders shot besides Doyle... What if Doyle bled to death whilst Bodie was in pursuit of their suspect? Every fibre of his being yearned to turn around, abandon the chase, and carry Doyle to safety. Which Doyle would hate. Once patched up, he’d harangue Bodie up one side and down the other. How badly was he bleeding? Where had the bullet hit? Just Another Day by the Sea:Dawnwind
	"You expect to get the money, you’d better take proper care of me!" "Oh, you’re going to be taken’ care of right proper, you little bastard and it won’t be because of any money, either. You’ll be beggin’ for whatever I decide to give you after a couple of months." "Couple of months? What are you talkin’ about?" Doyle’s mouth went dry. What was going on? His captor laughed. "Thought you were worth all sorts of money, didn’t you? Rich bugger like you, be out of here in no time, right?" "You tellin’ me they’re refusing to pay?" "No, I’m telling you we’re not askin’. You think my boss needs money? You stupid git. It’s revenge he’s after... You think about that, bein’ down there in that hole, day after day, month after month, year after year..." "No, wait!" Doyle felt a surge of panic. "There’s been a mistake. I’m not who you think I am..." Only the Reflection:Elise_Madrid
	“Where’d you go?” Bodie asked coldly. “What’s wrong?” Doyle asked.... “Something happen?” “Nothing.” Doyle stared, the look that could strip varnish at sixty paces. The look that Bodie always feared saw straight through him. Like he was the one with something to hide. He stared back — stared hard without love or affection and this time saw only the flaws: the dented cheekbone, the fine lines across Doyle’s forehead and around his shadowy eyes, the silver threaded hair grown long in hospital. But more than that. He saw a man who wasn’t getting any younger. A man with few illusions left. In that respect: a man like himself. “Yeh,” Doyle said. “Somethin’ has happened.” Calibre:JGL (Wayback Machine)
	For the first months Cowley, in a rare display of sympathy, let him work alone. When he finally assigned him partners Bodie ran through them like sand through an hourglass, requesting one after another. Most were unable to bear his moods, and they only succeeded in verbally tearing each other's throats out. And the others.... He couldn't look at the man with the curly hair, or the one whose eyes were almost the same color he remembered. He finally takes the bottom of the barrel, a young and inexperienced man who keeps quiet and looks nothing like his partner. He gets killed three months later and Bodie can't even feel grief at the loss. He wonders if he can feel anything anymore. After that Cowley gives him mostly deskwork. He accepts it without questioning, does his job with a quiet efficiency, arriving and leaving never too early or late, coming and going like a shadow... Broken:D'Angelo's Song
	He turned his collar up against the growing cold and stuffed his hands in his pockets. It was then that the fingers of his left hand touched something hard and metallic. At first he thought it was an unspent bullet. He fished it out as he walked and turned it over in his hand. It was homing device. How the hell had it got there? No wonder they knew where he was. As he walked briskly – the back of his mind still focused on his friend back at the safehouse needing urgent attention – he quickly reviewed the day’s events. He thought back to their briefing at HQ that morning, then the meeting in the pub as they thrashed out their strategy... someone had been in the pub while they were chatting and had planted the bug then... Ambush:Sylvie Orp
	Bodie was aware of a cold sinking feeling deep in the pit of his stomach... He had seen police searching for bodies in the river before... "Where's Ray?" Bodie's voice sounded normal enough, but Cowley wasn't fooled. Bodie knew, but just couldn't believe it. It was a risk he knew they had talked about, the possibility of one of them being left behind -- a risk that might happen tomorrow. Not today - -- never today. Blindly, they had clung to the hope the childish belief that tomorrow never comes -- but like all childish illusions that belief had just been shattered. Without speaking, Cowley moved to stand closer, silently offering support... Not Even Goodbye:Rob
	Waking up knowing he was bound again, gagged again. Not again. Testing his bonds he moved a little, then perforce held still. Raeburn's crazy; maybe he thought he'd already killed me. He did feel like he should be dead... Suffocation? What were the colours on his painter's palette at home? The new painting of Bodie was coming along well. Not anything anyone would want to put in their living room of course, but maybe a gay couple would buy it someday. Not if he died though, drowned in blood... Footsteps. Raeburn? "Scum? You awake; I know you're awake. Don't make me angry; I'd kill you right now sooner than look at you. Faggot curly head." Doyle looked up at him... Backlight:Jeroen Richards
	Bodie stood between the pale grey-blue-green walls of Doyle's flat. The flat palm of Doyle's absence, Doyle's coma, pressed him into silence. The feeling was more like horror than grief. The world was wrong. It was not possible that Doyle ... that Ray would never hear ... that Bodie would have to ... He could not form the thought. Could not even think it. Couldn't just stand here. He had to find the shooter and take him apart. And then get back to Ray. Ray Knows:jat_sapphire
	...More hoofbeats, definitely from the front of the house - up and down that track, perhaps, or... the same horses over and over, or more than two? ...Bodie tried to listen, tried to make sense of the noises. The horses called out again, louder, panicked. Rustlers? It probably wasn't unheard of out here in the sticks, there was a thriving black market down south. Nothing. There was nothing to be seen from the front window of the cottage, though it overlooked the track... It was stupid, they needed torches and thicker clothes against the cutting wind, and Doyle needed his gun which was still upstairs in its holster, but there was something about the pitch of the animals' voices, something ... "I don't like this..." Doyle said, voice low." Mollycross:Slantedlight
	... he glanced across at his former friend (and) instantly recognised Harris’ agitated state; hyped up, ready to do battle, exactly as he had always been prior to an op. Bodie suddenly had to dampen down his own wayward emotions before they tore him apart. A small part of him wanted to feel the same excitement, to return to the times when he and Pete had been close, when they worked together, smooth as clockwork. But things were so very different from how they used to be. He had the law on his side now, he had pride in his work, he was one of the good guys - and he had a different partner. No, he knew exactly what needed to be done – it was how it would be accomplished that worried him. And what would be the actual cost? Out of Reach:cornishcat
	The realisation that he would never see his Bodie again hit him so suddenly that his stomach lurched and he had to stumble over to the sink to throw up... then sank to the floor, shaking harder than before. Outside, cars zipped past, shops closed and pubs opened. The world carried on, but how could it? How could anything go on? The tears that Doyle had managed to hold back finally spilled out and he drew his knees up to his chest, hid his face in his arms and cried. Choked and sobbed and keened in a way he couldn't remember ever having done before. He cried until his head ached and his throat hurt and he didn't think he would be able to breathe. A part of him no longer wanted to. He wanted the world to go away, to be left in that moment forever... Together, Alone:scouringsandstone
	...he suddenly stopped, frozen by the familiar smell that assaulted him and threw him violently back into his past. Doyle turned round to take the photos from Bodie and was surprised to see him rooted to the spot, a faraway look on his face. ‘Oi, wake up’ said Doyle ‘what’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost mate. What is that awful smell?’ Bodie shook his head in an attempt to clear it and block out the memories that were threatening to overwhelm him, he knew exactly what the perfume was and who it belonged to... Echoes From The Past:Klara3745
	"Sir, I haven’t found the boy and it’s way past three by now. Any news from the kidnappers or Doyle?* “Negative, 3.7. No answer from Doyle. You’re not too far from the house he wanted to check out, so go and find out what’s going on!” “I’m on my way, Sir. 3.7 out!”. The silver Capri leapt forward like a stallion trying to discard its mount when Bodie shifted up a gear. It wasn’t long before he was approaching the farmhouse. Even from a distance, he could see that a window on the first floor and the entrance door had been blown from their hinges. The next thing he saw was Doyle’s Capri. By this time the lump in his throat had grown so much he was was finding it hard to swallow... Pushed Beyond the Limit:Angelfish45
	Someone, somewhere, has royally fucked up, and it’s all Doyle can do to sit still in the dark, hoping against hope that it isn’t him. The last hour or so -- although it could really be more, because it’s hard to keep track -- exists in his mind only as a blur of tacked-together memories, mistake after mistake after unforeseen circumstance... He remembers the way the light fell across her face before Hatchett pulled the trigger, that ripped-wide-open feeling of unadulterated failure, suffocating in it, then really suffocating with a bag over his head, and Drop your weapons, gentlemen, and darkness. And silence. He hopes that Bodie hasn’t annoyed them. When it was Doyle’s turn he stayed quiet, got slapped around a little for his insolence but at least he didn’t cheek them: Bodie, on the other hand, is well-known for his mouth... The sound of a gunshot from the next room rips into his consciousness... Breakdown:Lozalong
	“Put your hands on your heads,” a huge, Nordic looking man said politely... They hadn’t walked into a plain, slightly shabby family sitting room; they’d walked into a trap. It had sprung with very sweet precision… and they were caught. Bodie put his hands very slowly on his head. Anything else would have been extremely stupid. Annoyed with himself for having been caught so unawares, he tried to assess where a tedious day had gone so disastrously wrong. “You’re making a big mistake, you know, Harworth,” he said. “I’m not Nick Harworth,” the man said calmly... The circle of guns was keeping a reasonable level of alertness. Stockhomn Syndrome:Gil Hale

	... Bodie had the head start, and he knew Algiers. Doyle had already discovered the city was a labyrinth. It would be fatal to let Bodie get out of sight. Doyle was lucky enough to glimpse him running around a corner, and was desperate enough to half catch up with him before Bodie had rounded another corner and was out of sight again. Running was one of Doyle's finest talents, and he was fresh from a training session with Macklin and Towser. Bodie was not going to escape him. They raced down several streets, over a wall... Algiers:Fajrdrako
	“Well how did we end up in Switzerland then?” said Doyle.. “I don’t know, do I?” “You’re supposed to be the experienced International traveller.” “Yeah, well even International traveller’s make mistakes.” “So let me get this right. We’re meant to be in France?” “Correct...” “And our coach leaves from France.” “Yep.” “But we’re in Switzerland.” “Er, yeah. We’ll have to find our way back across the border somehow..." Winter Demons:assemblanceoflove, DementedPixie
	The vista was glorious and Ray would have loved it... As I continued to climb the French Pyrenees, the clouds rose to meet me. It was an ethereal sight, like walking through heaven. The mist ebbed and swirled, a watery quicksilver, changing the temperature with lightning speed. When the sunshine broke through, I could see for miles. The whole world was lush and green. Far-off farm buildings looked like tiny Swiss cottages. Eagles soared as might Chilean Condors and ferns brushed my legs as they well might in Dorset. I could be anywhere in the world, such was the view. Buen Camino, Bodie: Sharon Ray (Boothros)
	Bodie strode quickly after Doyle as he pressed on to catch the vaporetto that would take them up the Grand Canal to the district of Cannaregio. But as they stood waiting at the stop, along with the first of the day’s pickings of tourists eager to pass under the Rialto bridge, he frowned and gave Doyle a light nudge. “Three o’clock. That man’s following us.” ... “Yes, I know... Don’t worry, we expect him to be there.” “Is he yours? Fierstron’s?” Doyle raised an eyebrow; he seemed to be back in a stubborn mood: “I’m not sure you’re cleared for that information.” “Oh good, because I enjoy guessing if someone is about to start shooting me,” Bodie hissed back... Orpheus Turns Around:halotolerant
	He paid little heed to the shadow passing over the sun, a cloud between him and the life giving light, both his conscious and sub-conscious recognising the transient nature of the intrusion. Little heed, that is, right up until the cloud spoke… ‘’Hello, Sunshine.’’ Doyle sat bolt upright, adrenalin pumping through his system, all his nightmares made manifest. Bodie dropped to his haunches, taking in the feral, wild eyed creature before him. Even under the ill tailored clothing, it was obvious Doyle had lost weight. He had kept an aura of scrawny strength, but he was nothing but sinew and bone. Every vein and artery stood out where the flesh had retreated, every plane and angle of bone. He looked just this side of starving. A grim horror crept through Bodie... The Long Trick:Fiorenza_a
	“Onwards” Cowley said happily... It was a very pleasant walk. The sea breeze was keeping the temperature down and the cry of gulls and sough of sea was very relaxing. Ahead was their destination – St.Michael’s Mount – a site of pilgrimage for centuries. Once they’d come to the end of the easy, flat walk to the island, the climbing began to the church on top of the steep hill. Cowley had been given them a little history of the island as they’d walked along the causeway and, despite their earlier reservations, the agents were now getting into the holiday spirit. “Out of breath?” Cowley was going to add “3.7”, but remembered in time where he was. He tried not to sound out of breath himself... Sermon on the Mount:Sylvie Orp
	Jack and Jill – noon. The writing could have been Bodie’s, or it could have been forged. Doyle remembered that Terry had been taken and could be telling the Flak all sorts of interesting information – or as much as he knew. Anyone would talk under those conditions... how much could Terry actually tell them. He knew of Bodie certainly, but did he know all the codes used by some members of the cell to others? Doyle wasn’t sure. There was only one way to find out – be there at noon and see what happened. Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. So went the nursery rhyme. There was a pub at the top of Masons Hill where you could get more than a pail or two of water, or whatever else you fancied. That was where Bodie meant... In a Different Time: Sylvie Orp
	And this time the stone moved properly, lifting and sliding just far enough sideways so that they could tug it clear of the space below, and when they looked into the depths of the hole they'd uncovered, they could see what was underneath... Stairs. A familiar tattoo pounded at his heart, his veins, into his stomach. It was like being a kid again, like running away to sea - and just when he'd wondered whether there was anything new left in the world to be excited about. They peered cautiously down, half wondering, after the well, whether it would all give way and send them plummetting to a dark death, but once the dust and sand had settled down again, all was still and solid and safe. A steep flight of stairs, cut out of the rock itself, led downwards, disappeared into some underworld that can't have been seen for over a hundred years... Two on a Treasure Island: Slantedlight(Byslantedlight)
	Had he once boasted that he had never gone hungry? Well, it was beginning to be an all too familiar sensation. And it wasn't as romantic as he'd once envisioned. It was uncomfortable at best and at worst . . . Doyle sat up, refusing to think of that. It was pointless... At this moment he knew the true meaning of the phrase "pride goeth before a fall." Well, he had finally hit bottom. It was nearly impossible to even remember he had come to France to be an artist. For one thing he had discovered quite soon that his devotion to art didn't extend to sacrificing his next meal in order to buy canvas and paint. Perhaps that signified he wasn't a true artist. Hopefully, it only meant he was an artist who simply didn't fancy starving to death. Either way, it hardly mattered. The one unshakable imperative was to survive... Arabian Nights:Pamela Rose
	"Did you know that, strictly speaking, a ship has to have at least three masts, be square-rigged on them all and a bunch of other stuff that I can't remember?" "Thank you for enriching my knowledge. I can't see it's ever going to come in useful but thank you anyway... How do you know that?" "Merchant navy. The first mate was mad about tall ships and I was too young and naive to work out how to shut him up without getting myself slung off the ship." "Did you work it out in the end?" Doyle asked, interested. "Yeah," Bodie drawled, amusement plain. "Well?" Doyle prompted. "You don't want to know." "I do. Might work on the old man." Bodie gave a snort of laughter. "Try it if you like. Blow job..." Trying to Understand:deryderrydown
	American breakfasts were the best part about visiting the States... "Bodie?" The voice was surprised, a little uncertain. Bodie turned his head and saw a woman approaching him. She was of medium height and build, well-dressed, and middle-aged. He raised his eyebrows. "It is you, isn't it? Her eyes searched his face and his body. It was her perfume that finally triggered the memory. "Ann Holly." He felt the echo of old worries, old fears, as he said her name. She smiled and it seemed a little self-conscious. "Johnson now." "Ah. Married a Yank, did you?" "Yes." She was looking at him if she couldn't quite believe he was there... Old Fears and Temptations:PFL (msmoat)
	“Why are they killing innocents? They must know it won't help them in the eyes of the population...” .."We were thinking at first that they had chosen people with some connection with perhaps East Germany or Poland. But there was no evidence. Then one of the newspaper reporters noted that this is a progressive area. The people always elect politicians at both a local and a national level who will pass good, tolerant laws and make the world more modern, more peaceful. I think these Wolves do not like this. They think the local people are the enemies of the state.” The English agents stared at him. It barely made sense even though the man spoke excellent English. Doyle was about to reply but the officer smiled and continued. “I know; it sounds insane. That is the conclusion we have come to. These Wolves are insane or at least their leaders are insane..." Wolfkammer:moth2fic
	.. He is thin, probably underfed, and his tunic, belted loose, is dingy and threadbare. But somehow he -- he is beautiful. There is no other word for it. His hair, curled like that of a cinaedus should be, is a pleasing auburn colour, and his eyes, bright green, stunning in their intensity, could only belong to a Celt. The man's face is exotic, a combination of features half-delicate and half-rough that intrigues him... ... He moves with the exaggerated, showy gestures of the cinaedus, probably trained into him, but there is a true grace under the artifice, a power. They may have beaten him, but they haven't broken him. Bellonus wants this one... Miles Scortillusque:Sineala
	The Palace of Versailles was as exquisite as all had proclaimed. The gardens begged to be investigated, the halls to be explored. Bodie did it all with a spring in his step. This hyper-awareness of Doyle was extraordinary. It was just as satisfying to know that he could comport himself professionally when all he wanted to do was bury his fingers in Doyle's hair and kiss his lips soundly. It was equally intoxicating to know that Doyle was in the same place if the smouldering stares were anything to go by. Bodie was still stunned at how simple the answer had been. Doyle. They could work, do the job, and they could love, have someone at home... The Things You Need Come Slow:krisserci5
	Bloody typical. When you came to Spain, you came for sun, sand and sangria, didn’t you? That's what all the adverts said. It didn't matter what it was like in Blighty, it would always be balmy on the Costa del Sol, even the middle of winter. I mean, why else would there be palm trees? Doyle gazed out onto the rain-lashed marble of the swimming pool terrace, the pool itself a mass of white horses whipped up by the easterly gale that was thundering its way down the Mediterranean. The famous palm trees were throwing their branches up in surrender, and the Michael Fish-equivalent on the telly in the bar was wittering on about 'bizarro' weather for the time of year. You don’t mean to say so, thought Doyle glumly... The Spy Who Couldn't Quite Come In From The Cold:unbelievable2

	He swallowed hard, picked the receiver up, and held it to his ear. The number? Oh, God, it had been a year and a half. He’d thrown it away. And it wasn’t listed. Bodie had said. No. Don’t panic. He closed his eyes. Picture his flat. Picture the ‘phone in the living room. And the card in the centre of the dial. Read it. And he could. The ‘phone was ringing. Still ringing. “Ooah.” A cough. “Three seven.” Doyle’s knees buckled. “Hello.” Another cough. “Who is this?” The receiver clattered back onto the hook. Nothing in his hard-working imagination had prepared him for the effect of hearing Bodie’s voice. Not a memory. Not a dream. Now. He wanted it again. Now. The river could wait. He picked up the ‘phone again... “Look, who is this? What do you want?” “Bo...die?” Heat Trace:Helen Raven
	The phone box almost smacked him in the nose. One moment it had been all the way down at the other end of the street, and the next it had dashed forward and planted itself right under his feet. Bloody thing. Deeply suspicious, Bodie checked the interior before stepping inside. He wasn't enamoured of trapping himself in a box, but there weren't many other options if he wanted to use the phone. It turned out to be a more difficult than he'd anticipated. He dropped half his change on the ground, trying to fish it out of his pocket. The numbers on the dial were playing silly buggers, swapping places with each other. Four and five in particular appeared determined not to accept the dictatorship of the Roman numeral system. "H'lo?" Bodie almost dropped the phone. He'd been expecting to hear the mechanical click and whirr of HQ's switchboard. "If you're another sad bastard who gets his jollies breathing heavily into phones..." A Widening Gyre:Rebelcat
	Murphy sat quiet as a priest, listening to Bodie’s confession, waiting until the spate had abated. They’d been through this before, he and Bodie, had suffered through the maze of emotions, hammering at it time and again until they had found the only two paths out.. "D’you know, when it all went wrong yesterday, the first thing I thought was what a rotten fucking shame it was that I had to let the Wombat go? That was it, Murphy. Didn’t care about the wife and kids inside — not at first. Didn’t care about all the innocent by-standers. Wasn’t until those pricks lobbed that bloody grenade at us that I even started to think about it again...” Murphy waited tensely, knowing that this was the moment of truth. Something was coming, as obvious as clouds harbouring rain. So he waited, looking like his usual placid, phlegmatic self, while his heart raced and the breath caught in the back of his throat and the blood pounded in his ears. “I tried to fuck Ray last night.” Murphy's Law: LA Scotian
	He picked up the phone. "Doyle." "Ray, it's me." Ray's face softened, his eyes warming... "Bodie. Hello, mate. I'm in conference; just about have the security worked out for the concert. Think it was the bloody PM, not some pimply faced rock star. Remind me not to take any more projects like this one. I mean the money's good, but Christ..." "Ray..." Bodie interrupted and Ray could hear the strain in his partner's voice. "Bodie? What is it?" He could hear Bodie pause. Inhale. Exhale. Silence. Then there was breath again. "Cowley's gone and offed himself." Sunshine After Rain:Elspeth Leigh
	“Hello.” “Mr Bodie?” asked a man's voice. “Yes?” “I thought I'd do you a favour,” the voice continued. “Save you any more embarrassment and warn you about your new friend Ray...” The hairs prickled on the back of Bodie’s neck. “Who is this?” he demanded. “He gets bored easily, you see, and likes to play games. Take today, when you rang him at lunchtime? You interrupted us. So all the while he was talking to you and arranging to meet, he was looking at me, smiling at me. It adds to his pleasure, provides a little extra frisson and I don’t mind indulging him, every now and then...” As the man on the phone proceeded to tell Bodie what he had been doing to Doyle while he arranged their meeting for tonight, an instinct was urging Bodie to hang up. But a more perverse part of him was unable to do anything but listen, as the man described how they spent the afternoon in bed... An Island Affair:Angelci5
	In the December darkness of Doyle's flat, a telephone began to ring. His mind on the past, Doyle heard it only as a nuisance, nothing that concerned him. Nor did he notice that the flat was cold, because he hadn't bothered to turn on the heat... He didn't care. A telephone was ringing.... Maybe it was Cowley, with another one of CI5's endless emergencies. Maybe the memorial service was tonight, and they wanted to ask why he hadn't turned up... He had raged, alone in the dark. He had wept. He had punched the wall and screamed. He had curled up in a ball, and tried to stop the memories. None of it cured the lump in his throat that did not go away. Nothing reached the searing pain of being alone, without Bodie… He had sought oblivion in sleep, but it did no good. It offered relief at first, but it led to nightmares. Images of water, of imprisonment in water, of drowning in a metal cage as Bodie must have drowned, alone in the dark. And now it was he who was alone in the dark. Silent Star:Fajrdrako (Elizabeth Holden)
	Aware that his next priority must be to establish a concrete background for himself if he wished to join the British army, Bodie decided he had earned a few days' rest. He was in no doubt who he wanted to spend them with. It was only when he picked up the telephone, disconcerted to find his palm damp and his hand unsteady with nerves, that he realised he didn't know how to contact Ray... His sense of loss so acute it was almost a physical pain, Bodie stared blankly at the telephone... mentally castigating himself for being stupid enough to imagine a male hooker could mean anything but a good fuck. Five hours you knew him. No one can fall in love with a perfect stranger in five hours. He's a whore. One in a long line you were, mate... Rainbow Chasers:hgdoghouse
	"Yes?" a curt voice growled. "It's me." "Doyle? You're late!" "I know. Couldn't get away; I was following Moore. He led me halfway round the city before he came here. I'm at the Gunslinger, down by the docks... This is where the drop will be, I'm sure of it.... Have you found out anything about that other matter?" "Which matter? Oh, the man you asked about. We've found one Bodie in London that matches your description. He's SAS." "What?" Doyle's jaw dropped. "Why the hell is he hanging out with Derek, then? Christ, SAS aren't investigating this lot too, are they?" "I should hope not! It's hardly in their jurisdiction. No, I think you should be careful of this Bodie fellow. He has a shady past. Used to be a mercenary and a gun-runner. He could well be doing some smuggling on the side. Watch out for him..." Learning Trust: Russ
	Doyle caught Bodie's elbow outside Cowley's office. "Okay, who's the bird, and when's she due?" Bodie shook him off. "Don't know what you're talking about." "The one on the phone. Last night, and this morning!" "Nothing important. Told her not to call again..." Doyle was having none of it... "Do I know her?" "No." He was smashing himself futilely against the impenetrable rock cliffs that were Bodie. "Then, who died?" Astonishingly, a portion of the rock face crumbled. "My father." Brethren of the Coast:Rebelcat
	"Sir?" he said into the phone... "Aye, about time." Bodie rolled his eyes. He'd answered on the second ring. "Sir." "You're both on a week's leave." "A week?" He watched Doyle smile beside him, staying quiet for the mouthpiece, barely breathing, containing an immediate joy. "You'll report in this time next week – and I do mean seven a.m." "Yes sir! .... A week – surely time enough to sort this out, to show him. "Oh and Bodie, there will be someone into the flats to remove the surveillance devices." The call ended with a clack and a buzz, and Bodie hung up slowly. Surveillance devices ... The High-Up Singing and Alive Fruit:Slantedlight
	"The Major a soft touch then? Letting you use his phone. Bet you're his blue-eyed boy, him being a friend of the old man and all," he said with deliberate, happy provocation. "Naughty Doyle," came Bodie's low sexy voice, reacting to it. "Nothing like that. The Major's a good and flexible man. He understands that I have to check in every day." "What are the women like?" There was another pause. Bodie's voice said: "You remember Sue Jones." "How could I forget," said Doyle, with verve. "-- thick blonde hair, big blue eyes, long legs ...?" "Mmm...." Doyle approved, passionately. "The women here are along the same lines --" Doyle grinned, knowing his Bodie, and waited for it. "... they have big blue lips, thick legs and short blonde moustaches," finished Bodie's grim filtered voice. That was so -- Bodie. "Charming," said Doyle, through a chuckle. This was fun. Adagio:Sebastian
	Bodie was delightful to look at. His teeth weren’t perfect, but his smile was boyish and infectious. He tended to pout, which was an endless source of amusement — and teasing — for Doyle. His eyes were a striking shade of dark blue, thickly lashed, and wonderfully expressive. They could be chilling, sarcastic; they could show gut-wrenching anger and frustration, they could sparkle with humour, or shine with warmth and affection. As the months of their acquaintance went by, and developed into friendship, Doyle saw that look of warmth more often, and what was more, it was directed at him. They bickered and sniped at each other just as much, but when Doyle thought of Bodie — fellow recruit, colleague, friend — it was the warmth he remembered. Measuring Scars:Maddalia (Proslib CD)
	The pills settled like a prickly lump. Oh. What had he done? Bodie. That laughing face, by his grave—not laughing now. How would he ever forgive Doyle? Selfish. He was the most selfish person who’d ever lived. Hadn’t even left a proper note. He’d gone through five, all now in the bin. He grabbed for the phone—twice—and dialled clumsily, the number he knew by heart. He could feel himself going, but he had to, this was the most important thing he’d ever done. What if he wasn’t there? Bodie. “Bodie.” “What? Hullo?” “I’m sorry, Bodie. I’m sorry.” One Phone Call:Allie
	Doyle's eyes were an indeterminate green. They went to grey-gold in certain lights, in the grip of certain emotions. His inner conflicts played themselves out there for anyone to see who had the knack of reading them. All these years partners, eight months lovers, and Bodie could only guess at what was colouring those eyes now. What did he know of his partner, really, after all this time? Only what he could see, and he sometimes feared that, like everyone else, he saw only what Doyle elected to show him. Stingy with his details, Doyle was. Bodie knew little of his life before CI5--a word here, a word there, a few stories from his days with the Met.... What he didn't say ought to be as revealing as what he did--would be, with most men. Not this one. Bodie'd spilled his guts, mostly, but Doyle had never been similarly forthcoming. His partner had been raised by wolves, for all he could say different. The conceit pleased him, and he played with it in his head. Doyle as lone wolf... The Met, CI5: by nature, he was as much a pack animal as Bodie - more, maybe. But Doyle was less domesticated than he'd claim to be; his partner was housebroken but by no means tame, and far too prone to biting to be safely fed from the hand. Like the wolf on the fold...Doyle, his wolf in idealist's clothing. Werewolves of London:Rimy
	He picked up the receiver with a brisk but quiet “hello”. There was a moment of eerie hissing static then a dense silence before a voice echoed from the receiver. “Will? William Bodie?” Bodie’s breath caught in his throat. The voice was almost indistinct, crackling over the line as if from a great distance in time and space. But he would know it anywhere and what it could mean. “Thought you’d probably died long ago,” he said, his own voice cracking slightly, although whether from lack of use or his screaming nerves he couldn’t be sure. “I’m not good enough to die young, you know that.” There was a pause before the voice came again. “It’s good to hear you, Will. It’s been a long time...." "I’ve found him, Will,” the voice continued.” A Mercenary's Tale:Fictionwriter
	Ray made for the still-ringing phone himself. Given that Bodie had only just moved in, the call was most likely work, which might be very important. There would not have been time, even by Bodie’s standards, to give the number out to any girls in bars. Or to, Ray supposed, well, to... anyone not a girl who might be in a bar. He didn’t think Bodie gave out details to anyone else. He walked into the bedroom and picked up the receiver, barking in a brisk “Hello?” and waiting for the caller to identify themselves, his mind still more than half in another place. “Hello,” a male voice answered – a posh, businesslike tone. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings, Mr Bodie...” “I’m not...” Ray began, but not quickly enough, his reactions slowed as his mind tried to focus. “I’m one of the doctors at the James Cook Hospital in Teeside” the man continued, steam-rollering over the objection, “where I’m sorry to say your wife has just died.” This Week It Rained:halotolerant
	"please, tell him Anne-Marie called. The number is—" "Hold on, hold on, I need something to write on." Bodie knew he sounded truculent but didn't care. He yanked out one drawer and found nothing but household odds and ends. The drawer below it yielded a biro and a folded sheet of paper that he grabbed and laid on the counter. "Yeah, go on, give us the number, love." He wrote it down and ended the call, belatedly realising he might have written the number on something important. He put the biro down, picked up the paper and unfolded it. It took a moment for his brain to make sense of what his eyes were telling him. When comprehension finally kicked in, he leaned against the wall near the phone, legs suddenly too shaky to hold him up by themselves. In a mind-numbing flash, his worst fears were realised. What he held between trembling fingers was Ray's letter of resignation from CI5. It was concise, undated and made no mention of his partner... Mended Hearts: Veronica
	Bodie sat hunched over by the radio, images and words tumbling over and over in his head, reliving memory after memory… it was unthinkable that he could walk away from a mission without Doyle beside him, laughing and joking, or quiet and retrospective… Brothers forged by the heat of the fire, living or dying side-by-side... Without thinking, Bodie slammed his fist into the table, making the radio jump as though frightened. If this had been any other hostage situation he would know what to do; try to talk the kidnapper down, stall for time, plan a counter-attack. But somehow his brain wouldn’t let him focus on anything else than the knowledge that it was Doyle in there, that it was his partner’s life that hung in the balance... they were haggling over his friend’s life like he was so much meat to be argued over... he realised with a jolt that it was almost an hour since he’d discovered that Doyle was the hostage. It felt more like a lifetime. Negotiations in a Graveyard:YnitOcelot

	While Doyle was intent on a bike magazine, Bodie was just as intent - on him. The bigger, darker man sat at the same table his hands cradling a cup, his expression brooding, his blue eyes fixed on his partner. Devouring him, Murphy thought, hiding a grin. Gobbling Ray down, feature by feature. But there was an expression on Bodie's finely sculptured face that was not lustful in the slightest. Sad? Murphy wondered. Or resentful? It was hard to tell with Bodie; he hid everything with almost as much skill as Ray. Ray would disguise what he was feeling - hurt would be hidden behind anger, grief behind grumbling, childlike enthusiasm behind cynicism. No, Bodie attacked the problem in a different way; he pulled his expression straight, like a mask, and kept it that way... People who did not know him were irritated by it; those who did were worried. It meant he was hiding something, and one day soon there would be an explosion of unleashed anger. So he was jealous and resentful, Murphy concluded; not surprising. No one would lose a lover like Ray Doyle without a pang of envy and a thrill of fury...So Bodie was smouldering about his loss. As yet he had not made his move, but from the look on 3.7's face, Murphy had the strongest impression that he would, before long... Coming Home:Kathy Keegan
	An aching gnawed at Bodie; he longed to reach out to Ray, to wipe away all the pain that was consuming him... What if this whole ordeal sends him away from me? What if he withdraws? Please don't leave me, Ray, he thought. Please don't go away without me... No, he won't leave me, Bodie thought, calmed. He won't leave me because we belong together. I know this, I just know this... Bodie had felt, more than seen, the changes, as Doyle pushed Gillian to open up and let him into her life. It was something he recognized from his own past with Ray, the slow wearing down of the walls and screens he hid himself with. This mature openness, this strength of love that had grown in Doyle the past few years had, of course, only served to draw Bodie further and further into love with Ray. Always the silent watcher, wondering if he would ever grow enough to be worthy of Ray's love. Aftermath:Gwyneth Rhys
	There was something different about this morning. It reminded him of that poster, the one about today being the first day of the rest of your life. If he wanted it, this could be home. This could be the kitchen he cooked breakfast in for the rest of his life. It was an unsettling thought. He looked around. It was large and modern, and it wouldn't take much at all for him to think of it as his. His kitchen, his house. His Bodie? Was the price too high? Bodie had said that he was willing to take as much as Doyle could offer, that if friendship was all that there would be, he could be content. Was it so? Could he have a home, and Bodie, without having to ... put out? A Different Game:DVS
	Bodie swallowed, finding it suddenly difficult to breathe, to think, to do anything but feel like a donation to science, spread out, cut open, completely exposed. “You love me, don’t you?” Eviscerated. The heart cut out from him and presented on a bloody silver platter. Bodie couldn’t look at Ray—couldn’t not look, knew he’d given himself away by the extremes of his reaction. More intent than ever, Doyle leaned forward...stare fixed on Bodie. “You love me. And not just all-mates-together either, is it, Bodie?” Bodie looked then, transfixed, body caught in fight-or-flight. Wanting to kill Doyle for saying it, because if no-one ever said it, then it might not be true. If no-one ever said it, then it could be ignored, called something else, lied about. He could strangle Doyle for speaking the unspeakable, or he could simply run away and never stop running. Fight, or flight. If I Fell:Edi N.Burgh (M Fae Glasgow)
	This whole situation was getting out of hand, fast. He could deal with kissing the man in pubs and trying to attract the wrong kind of attention, but to actually spend real time with Doyle, to get to know him, could prove distinctly dangerous. But his instinct told him Doyle was right in this approach to the case. This was the way to find the person doing the killings. Unfortunately, Doyle was too close to someone he could fall for, someone who could really mean something to him. Those cat-like eyes, murky green and tilted a little off balance did things to his equilibrium... Get a grip, he told himself. But Doyle was a feast for the senses. Delicious did not even begin to describe him. Bodie knew that given half a chance he could make a meal of that lush body for days. And that mouth... The attraction by itself was bad enough, but he sensed Doyle's awakening response to him and he feared that most of all. Doyle would want to explore it. Bodie knew it. Could tell from Doyle's tenacious nature that he'd want to make love. Not just have sex, not just get each other off, but make love. And Bodie could not do that. If he were to touch Doyle like that there would be no hope of him surviving this operation with his heart intact. The Path Not Taken:Meridian
	“...I wanna tell you something. When I think about it—you want to know something, Bodie? No-one’s ever loved me. What do I do wrong?” Steeped in his own misery, a parade of people who had failed to love him stretching back as far as his mother and sisters, he took a while to realise that Bodie had left him. He opened his eyes to see Bodie standing.. back turned to Doyle.. “Bodie—?” Bodie said without turning: “You’re a selfish bloody bastard at times, aren’t you?” “What?” Doyle said. His eyes and his nose and his throat were blocked with tears. He dragged his sleeve over his eyes and sniffed. “Look, I’ve got feelings too, you know. Though sometimes I wondered if you ever knew that…” “What are you on about?” The change of pace had left him utterly confused. “Obviously I wasn’t in her class. But didn’t I count?” “Count what?” He felt dizzy now, befuddled... "Didn’t I count at all? I loved you.” Doyle’s heart began to pound unexpectedly, turning over sickly in his chest... “I never knew..” Wonderful Tonight:Sebastian
	"I need you, Bodie." Bodie nodded, sneering. "Well, I want you, Doyle, there's the difference. That's what all your theories and understanding have failed to make clear to you." "Shut up, you bastard, and listen to me!" Doyle interrupted. "I--" "And I'm not going to bloody well make love to a martyr so just you shut the fuck up!" "Love?" Bodie clamped his mouth shut, cursing himself. ...he looked like hell, Bodie noticed abstractedly, and he looked magnificent. Wore exhaustion and pain well, did Doyle. "Complex thing, love," Doyle commented. "Reckoned that was at the root of it. Never thought you'd say it, though." "No," Bodie denied hotly, desperately. "For Christ's sake, how can you think that love had anything to do with what--with what I did to you?" Adrenaline:PFL
	The images which sometimes slipped from the box he had later built in his brain were full of Doyle, always Doyle. He found it hard to remember these images, but sometimes, late at night or very early in the morning--when his attention shuddered and his mind wandered--they would come, unbidden. Of Doyle, shifting himself suddenly to lie on top of Bodie; of his hard, bony hips pressing down into his belly; of grabbing endless handfuls of curls and holding on; of the feel of his tongue crashing against another; of trouser buttons being ripped open and wonderfully quick hands wrapping confidently round him; of the smell of victory and shame mingling with his aftershave; of forest-green eyes cautiously watching him from underneath a sweaty, mussed fringe; of running, running and not stopping. But Bodie always swallowed these images down again, and wilfully refused to think about anything at all. Nothing had happened. Nothing. That sick, scared feeling filling his chest was absolutely nothing at all. Getting to Like You:Ailcia
	The sky was a deep, navy blue. Somewhere nearby a bird called, sleepy and homey-sounding. Bodie regarded the countryside with a satisfied air. “Bodie,” said Doyle, sounding almost agonised. “What, mate?” Bodie turned immediately to his friend. “What’s the matter?” “Are you happy? I’m making you miss so much work, and—” “Happy? ‘Course I’m happy. You didn’t make me miss anything.” He walked backwards in front of the frowning, worried-looking Doyle. Who didn’t look convinced. How could he tell Doyle what he meant exactly, without sounding soppy or too cheerful or false? “I’m glad to be here with you. It’s a nice holiday. Look around you...” Doyle’s mouth twitched up on one side in a grimace. He still looked worried. “Playing babysitter, you mean.” “Hey, mate, I volunteered..." Remembering Bodie:hutchynstarsk
	“Aw, shut up. Have to get the last word in, don’t you?” This time, Doyle didn’t say anything at all. And he didn’t so much as glance in Bodie’s direction once the rest of the trip. The slap and the ugly words hung in the air between them, and Bodie wondered if he’d ever be brave enough to say how sorry he was. And if he wasn’t, whether time would heal these wounds, these confusing wounds between the two of them. He wanted to reach out and touch again, to say with his fingers that he hadn’t meant it, to stroke the soft, sensual curls, this time lovingly. But he knew anything he did now would be interpreted as insult, would probably get him the blow he so rightfully deserved after that... And his partner drove fast and competent, while so very, very silent and untouchable. Untouchable:AnxiousAlien
	Damned if he was gonna let Doyle keep throwing this in his face. He'd done what Doyle asked, what he'd made Bodie promise. He'd toed the line Doyle had drawn. Hadn't said anything, hadn't done anything, hadn't touched him so much as to even pass a cup of tea, even though it killed him, even if every day he felt like these feelings inside him would choke him. "Say it, Doyle. I'm the one who—?" Doyle whirled around. "Who changed the rules in the middle of the fucking game, that's what! One minute I can't keep track of all the birds you're stringing along and the next minute you're telling me—" He faltered. "You're telling me—" Bodie's laugh was grim. "You can't even say it, can you? What are you afraid of?" He took a step closer. "That it's contagious? Afraid you might catch something if you keep hanging about with me?" "Shut up, Bodie." Doyle tensed but stood his ground. "Right. All rny fault, is it?" "I didn't say—" "No, no, you're right, Doyle." The anger felt good after weeks of stuffing it down, hot and bright and heady. "Not your fault. You're not interested, mate. Made that all perfectly clear, you did. 'Not a fucking pervert,' you said. I did get that right, didn't I? Ray Doyle's not a fucking queer." And it felt good to throw the words back at him. The Rules of Engagement:Aerye
	I’ll be there,” he said breezily, waving as he pulled away from the kerb, shouting, “see you, mate!” over the crunch of the tyres. Oh, yeh, he wasn’t queer, stupid of him to even think it for a minute. Never been queer before, wasn’t likely to start just because he had a partner who reacted to danger the same way he did, now was he? So why did it stick in his mind, why did it make him rougher with Inge than he had to be, that memory of Ray Doyle, his partner, the man who had almost died for him, the man who kissed him, left standing there on the pavement, alone? Back Alley:L.A.Scotian (M Fae Glasgow)
	"Ah, c'mon, now, Bodie," he said impatiently. "Don't make such heavy weather of it." "You said --" Like a marriage, Doyle had said. "Yeah, I know what I said. I'm plannin' on sticking to it. But I didn't mean we had to deprive ourselves of female company for the rest of our lives." "Didn't you," Bodie said at last... "Look, Bodie. Fuckin' them -- do you think that would mean anything? They want us to take 'em home, pass an hour or so in bed, and all I'm tryin' to say is that we've got a choice. Whether we do or not, them or anyone else, it won't make any difference to us. To you an' me...I'm just trying to give us more -- freedom," he said, and the moment he'd said it he knew what he'd done... "You want freedom, sweetheart," he said savagely, "it's yours." Catharsis:Sebastian
	"I didn't hear any complaints. Had yourself a good time, didn't you?" "Yeh. It's just..." Doyle sighed. Time to put things back on an even keel. "You're not gay, Bodie. You're going to go home today, track down that redhead of yours, and fuck her senseless. And tomorrow you'll do it again." "Because I'm not gay," said Bodie, visibly cheered. "Right," said Doyle, ignoring the irrational twinge of disappointment in his stomach. However, his dissatisfaction was short-lived, because Bodie once more proved that the universe is made up of unshakeable constants by saying the most unexpected thing possible at that moment. "And so long as we're both clear on that," said Bodie. "We can do this again, sometime, right?" The Natural Order of Things:Rebelcat
	"You know..." Rebecca said, twining her arm through Doyle's, "one of these days you might consider telling him how you feel about him." Doyle tore his attention off the trio now making their way to the refreshments and looked down at his sister. "What?" Rebecca rolled her eyes, then leaned in closer. "Oh, stop pretending to be daft. I'm talking about Bodie and your feelings for him. And when you might possibly ever decide to tell him how you feel." "He's my best mate, Becs. He already knows." "That's not what I mean, and you know it. Ray..." Rebecca lowered her voice. "Have you considered just telling him you're in love with him?" A blind-sided punch couldn't have caught him more unaware. "Becs... I... I'm not-" "Hey, it's me remember?...I may be your baby sister, but I do have eyes. And I probably know you better than anyone else. I see the way you look at Bodie when he's unaware... with this raw longing on your face..." Something More:Ankaree
	Doyle moved forward to kiss him, but Bodie held him off with one hand. “No,” he said. “You don’t have to now.” Doyle shrugged. “I was hoping to see you tonight.....” “You don’t need to do it, now,” said Bodie. “Suppose I want to?” “Why do you want a man you hate?” “Don’t hate you. Not now.” “Do you love me?” Doyle couldn’t answer. “I don’t want your tolerance,” said Bodie. “Come back when you love me. I’m tired of half measures.” Doyle looked at him sharply, shock. “Bloody hell - you’re cutting me off!” “...We aren’t lovers, Doyle. We’re colleagues now." Rule Brittania:Fajrdrako (Elizabeth Holden)
	Doyle tried to josh Bodie into a better mood. “Well that’s another man lost to all female society.” Doyle had been dating a pretty blonde now for several months. Even Cowley had had her checked out. The signs were good. “Come on, Bodie. Don’t be so glum. There’s someone out there just waiting to make an honest man out of you.” Bodie finally turned to his partner. “There is,” he murmured enigmatically. Doyle looked surprised… There was a strained silence. “All right Bodie, you’ve got me. Who is she – what I don’t know about?” “For a copper, you rate low in observation, Doyle.” Blind Love:Sylvie Orp
	"Bodie, we should talk about this." "I'm sorry, Ray..." "Yeah, I know," said Doyle, voice cracking as Bodie looked down at him, but he needed more. "But don't you think about us at all? Sometimes? Do you think about us sometimes?" "No, Ray." Staring at the floor Bodie shook his head before lifting it to look at Doyle again. "I don't think about us sometimes. It's all the time. I think about us all the time..." "Christ, Bodie, what the hell have we gotten ourselves into?" Sometimes: Livia Collins

	The next step in the plan was to ditch the surveillance team....A lot of people on the pavement would help but these blokes were damned good. Passing by a shop selling televisions, Doyle came to an abrupt stop. Bodie had walked on a few paces until he realised that Doyle wasn't beside him. He retraced his steps. Doyle seemed mesmerised by whatever was on the half-dozen televisions on display. Bodie's stomach lurched and if he hadn't clamped his lips tightly together, he would have vomited on the spot. On the multiple television screens were pictures of he and Doyle. Under there photos were their names and text running across the bottom of the screen. Bodie read: Dangerous Men! Killers! Followed by instructions to contact the proper authorities if the criminals were seen at large, along with what Bodie knew was the usual Commie rhetoric about duty to the state, more blah blah blah. “We're in big trouble,” Doyle said. Bodie shuddered. The idea of spending his life locked away in a prison cell behind the Iron Curtain was not a happy prospect, to say the least. The idea of spending his life locked away from Doyle was even worse than thoughts of incarceration and torture. “You don't bloody say,” Bodie muttered, snagging Doyle's sleeve and dragging him away. “We have to find some place to regroup...” I Will Follow You:LilyK
	It feels like he’s been there days. He’s certainly thirsty enough for it to have been days and very hungry. Arms aching, head pounding, leaden cold draining the life from his limbs; Doyle knows that the situation is beyond his control and has been for a long time. He’s spent hours pulling on his restraints, hours trying to attract attention, hours silently calling for Bodie, hoping against hope that in a minute, a moment, Bodie is going to come bursting through that door with all his devils loose. Bodie only ever lets his devils free for Doyle. Bodie will be looking for him, he knows that... Bodie would be coming. He’s so thirsty. His throat hurts. He wants Bodie to be here. He wants Bodie to hug him close and tell him everything will be alright... Captive:Agent_Talis
	They’d blown themselves up, then, as well as Doyle. Fanatics. He looked down at the ground, struggling to control the useless rage. Funnel it. But there was no one to take vengeance on, no survivors to focus on. There wasn’t even an organization to take down. Moran had been a lone wolf terrorist, with a few hired thugs. There was nothing but ashes and death and the stopping of everything. The end. He tightened his jaw... Don’t move. Wait for it to pass. Don’t think. Breathe. For now. He looked up again, saw Cowley and Murphy dealing with the fire brigade and police. An ambulance crew passed close by him, ferrying Stuart to one of the ambulances. He almost wished he’d been injured, so he could sink into drugs—forget. But it would only delay, not help. He flashed onto a picture of Doyle glancing at him sideways, half smiling— He closed his eyes. Rebirth:PFL
	Having his hands tied behind his back made getting out of the van awkward, but Bodie managed and kept his footing. He was then shoved around the side of the vehicle. "Known better, sir," he said in response to Cowley's question, but his eyes sought those of his partner. Ray was controlled, and to anyone watching, he appeared alert and ready for action. That much was true, but Bodie knew the suppressed anger that was also under that facade. Feeling responsible, he is. Ray'll be blaming himself for this, and he'll know this load around me neck is explosives... "He had better be up to it," Cowley said. "He'll be up to it!" Bodie, be ready, Ray silently commanded. From his vantage point, Bodie studied the two; CI5's director and top agent. They had something planned, of that Bodie was sure. And he knew that all he had to do was be prepared to act when the time came. In the next instant something by the plane exploded... Requiem for a Fugitive:Lois Welling
	...the trial went ahead. I had no idea that when I stood in the dock I was by that time suffering from clinical depression. I was in all probability, unfit for court but I found some of the revelations so fascinating that I probably appeared rather lucid. Someone had obviously done their homework on me. Every death that I had caused within my CI5 career was documented. Though none of these losses were admissible, they all served to show the jury what an out and out thug I was. By the end of the prosecution speeches I was ready to throw away the key myself... My thoughts were in disarray, swimming between the trial, Bodie, Cowley’s heart attack, Bodie, what might await me in jail and of course, more Bodie. The judge’s words will always echo through my mind. “Raymond Doyle you have been found guilty…” ‘So you shall hang till you are dead…’ The imagined phrase plagued my head but the truth was even more brutal. Somehow I had to find a way to survive if I possibly could... I was truly, absolutely and completely terrified. My Time:Pale Rider (Boothros)
	If holding out was impossible, they had limited options: run or get rescued. Since the cavalry wasn’t responding by R/T, running was the only choice left. Bodie’s eyes moved rapidly from the warehouse’s far doorway, where through the gloom he detected pale outlines of men entering stealthily, to up above, where through grimy skylights he saw two others sprinting and stopping on the exterior catwalk in jagged alternation, moving shadows marking their advance. They were getting damned close. Hemmed in, with time running out, Bodie made a decision. “I’ll test the stairs. If I can get the door open, you follow...” It wasn’t encouraging: no railings, cracked boards, and at least a twenty-foot drop to some sort of concrete floor he could make out between the multiple treads that were missing entirely. He’d have to chance going down, crossing those gaps, without the whole staircase collapsing—time was running out, for now he heard Doyle’s gun firing more rapidly behind him, joined by the barking report of Cowley’s snub-nosed shooter... Creeping gingerly, Bodie kept off the centre of each step, hoping the strength of the wood remained strongest where it connected to the stair’s sides. Even so, each time he shifted his weight the wood creaked and shuddered horribly....Just when he was congratulating himself on reaching the other side and saving his balance, an ominous crack began... Endlessly:FJBryan
	"Who do you reckon's faster, you or me?" Doyle asked, trying to make the question seem casual, trying to hide the fact that it was death or life. "Faster at what?..." "At running, you berk." Doyle barked out in frustration. "I suppose you are." Bodie looked at him suspiciously, suddenly paying close attention to his partner. "Why?" "You're not gonna like it." "What are you up to, Doyle?" "If a bloke was fast enough, he could get across the warehouse to those crates over there, distract the uglies at the doors." "Or said bloke could get shot." "We stay here much longer, and we're both gonna get shot." "Butch and Sundance, that's us." It was a last, very Bodie-like attempt at humour. "I don't want to be Butch Cassidy..." Live 'Til You Die:PR Zed
	“It’s him!” The accusation, accompanied by a cold swirl of air and an abruptly slammed door, sliced sharply through the ribald banter that had marked the poker hand. “Duncan’s the plant – a bloody copper.” The voice was Bodie’s, - or rather Williams’, Bodie’s undercover persona - as was the accusatory finger pointed straight at him. A myriad of thoughts raced through Doyle’s head, each more ludicrous than the last. His cover as Duncan was in tatters - that was clear as day. It was Bodie who’d grassed him... 'Betrayed', Doyle thought to himself bitterly. It was actually rather ironic. He was being placed in the Judas role, while it was Bodie – or rather- the trusted Williams – who was going to actually do the act. Or was he? Doyle looked over at his partner. The face turned toward him was expressionless; the eyes were cold; the lips set in a thin line. No comfort to be found there. Was Bodie going to betray Donnelly, or was it Doyle that was going to be hung out to dry? Old Habits:merentha13
	"Doesn’t sound like there’s anyone around." "When have we ever been that lucky?" "First time for—" Bodie was cut off by the sound of gunfire in the distance, and was instantly alert...They could hear shouts and the sound of running feet, sporadic bursts of gunfire... Bodie ... tensed, waiting for the sound of a key in the lock, the turn of the knob. He watched Doyle’s face as the door started to open... "What the hell are you doing here?" Doyle asked, and Bodie caught his first glimpse of their rescuer. Once in a Good long While:Lacey McBain
	He moved quickly and silently to the house. He should call for back up but he didn’t want to take the time. It felt like time was running out for Bodie. He needed to get to him as fast as possible. He crept up to a window at the back of the house and heard voices. “We need to get rid of ‘im”, the voice was low, but filled with anger. “He’s CI5. You don’t just kill those guys...Doyle chanced a look through the window. There were four men in the room. Bodie was stretched out on the floor, a small puddle of blood near the cheek pressed against the carpet. “Can’t just leave him. He’s seen our faces, heard our names.” The first voice again. Ray looked on in horror as the man raised his gun and pointed it at the back of Bodie’s head... Words Finally Spoken:Merentha13
	The creature snarled and whipped around, bounding through the too-small gap. The wood around it yielded depressingly easily. It landed lightly in front of the two agents, fur glowing with a crystalline blue light and its eyes coals from Hell itself…. It began to pad towards Bodie and Doyle. The stench of it hit them like a physical blow. Somewhere in the distance, Bodie could hear Jadis gleefully urging the beast on… Their attackers were getting closer and closer. Bodie blinked the water out of his eyes, his gun still directed at the wolf-dog. He wasn’t going to die here... he wasn’t going to die here ... he wasn’t going to let Doyle die here... Here Be Monsters: Agent_Talis
	Hearing the squeal of car tyres, Bodie ran across the smooth white curve of the gasholder to the railed gangway. From his vantage point, he could see the spy convention forming at the foot of the tower. Cowley was there with Willis, a pack of his MI6 men, and the two watchful East Germans; Kreiber and Schuman. Cowley must have got Willis to call off the attack dogs snapping at his ankles. The old bastard was up to no good, but he was probably the only thing standing between Bodie and – what was it? – a grenade launcher. Cowley shouted to him to come down, that he was cleared; his words just audible at this distance. Bodie gripped the rail, trying to discern the truth from his craggy features. He demanded to see Marikka. She had betrayed him, but instinctively he feared for her. Doyle, our very own Mr License to Thrill, brought her... It had started before he saw her, playing the glamour girl outside the Gloucester Hotel. He had known she was coming, from an article in Doyle’s film magazine, and the past came rushing back. He had shut down; he knew he had, though it was scarcely within his control. He had gone quiet and let Doyle make all that noise to compensate. But where did it leave him? Hanging about on a gasholder like a fairy on top of a poorly defended Christmas tree... Firebird:Jackie Thomas
	Doyle’s future suddenly narrowed to a tiny pinprick of light in the far distance. He was in a relationship with a selfish bully who also happened to be boss. He had no real money of his own, nowhere that he could call home apart from Hayter’s house and no true friends except Jamie. He had lost his ideals, his health and his self-respect. Suddenly the shutters fell from his eyes and he faced the true horror of what he had done. Walking away from his own life had been a monumental mistake. Bodie and Cowley had both tried to warn him but he had ignored them both, his dearest and most trusted allies, to strive for a love that he now knew he could never realise. He’d never seen what he was losing, or at the very least chosen not to look. He’d hadn’t really loved his job in CI5 but he’d been good at it and felt that he’d made some sort of difference. He’d not made a fortune but he’d been able to support himself. He’d never suffered fools gladly but now he was the biggest fool of all. He’d lost his sense of self, he’d lost his hopes and dreams and most painful of all, he’d lost Bodie... Coming Home:Pale Rider (Boothross)
	“What in all bloody hell are you doing?” Doyle asked, seething. The least Bodie could do was untie him first. Breathing heavily, Bodie found a knife from the kitchen supplies and trotted across the room. “Saving your sorry hide.” “Me?” Doyle roared, too irritated to care that he’d wake the sleeping beauties up. “I came here to get you out of a jam, and look what happened!” “You ended up piggy-in-the-middle?” ...He sawed through the ropes binding Doyle’s all but numb hands. “Smartish, now, Raymond. Time to leave. D’you have your r/t with you?” “Your mate Conal tucked it in his pocket.” .... His right knee shot pain up his leg but he wasn’t about to give Bodie the satisfaction of seeing that he’d needed rescuing. His fingers were thick, clumsy sausages and the returning blood felt like thousands of needles. Of all the fucking luck, of course he couldn’t bend them dexterously enough to fish the r/t out of Conal’s mackintosh... An Agent's Christmas in London:Dawnwind
	George Cowley was one of those unique men who could be categorized as both a doer and a thinker. Deceptively small, Cowley was clever and resourceful, cursed with a game leg while blessed with a silver tongue. A natural born leader, he was one who commanded loyalty and gave the same in return. However, when faced with a situation where he could neither think, nor do, the wily George Cowley became nothing more than a caged tiger. He'd found himself in just such a situation for four days now, locked in a concrete room... The door swung open and two men looking rather the worse for wear were roughly shoved to the floor at Cowley's feet, after which the door was slammed shut and bolted... "We've come to rescue you," explained Doyle, who promptly passed out. "For God's sake," Cowley growled, shoving himself to his feet and crossing the floor to kneel next to his injured operatives...he felt along Doyle's neck until he found his pulse. It was slow but strong and Cowley motioned Bodie to help him turn the unconscious man on his side..."Take it easy, Doyle. Lie still," he said, gruffly. Doyle responded to the voice, eyes opening blearily, attempting to focus. "Must have been some party," he muttered, drunkenly... Saving George:Annie

	He looked around the hallway. It seemed older, more worn, the brass lamps tarnished. Like him. He wanted to run. Run up the corridor and through the light that promised an end to his pain, his torment and his uncertainty. To hell with the consequences. But there was something that held him back, something that kept him in the hall.... The low repetitious murmur was back, drumming in his head. He was being pulled back into himself. He looked up the passageway. This time there was a figure in the light waiting for him. St. Peter? A silent laugh. No, this shadow was no angel. Had no wings, did it? But he knew that silhouette. He lived for it. Loved it. Bodie. No decision then. He knew the choice had already been made. He, Raymond Doyle would live. The light grew brighter. Choices:Merentha13
	‘Okay. So I go and grovel to Cowley and get access to the computers. Cover our tracks, bollix the system so it crashes and they can’t do anything for a week or so.’ ‘It means getting out completely. Setting up with new identities, the lot. You okay with that?’ ‘As long as we’re together, yeah.’ ‘Just checking. We might have to go abroad for a bit, but we can come back after a while.’ ‘What do you want to do, after this?’ Doyle was curious. What sort of thing had his partner been considering? ‘Dunno. Never really thought much about getting out. What about you?’ ‘Just the standard things. Security, bodyguard, fitness trainer. But we don’t have to stay in this business. We could do something completely different. Be normal.’ ‘Normal?’ Bodie was sceptical. ‘Such as?’ ‘Teacher. Artist. Landscape gardener. We could live in a little house together.... The King Must Die:murphybabe
	"I miss you...." "Oh, Jesus. Don't do this to me." He wanted to walk away, but he couldn't. He had to keep an eye on the fucking window. All he could do was turn away from Bodie, away from that soft, pleading look in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Ray. It's just that--I don't like being without you. Why can't we go back to how it was before?" Doyle simply shook his head, too upset to talk. Christ, Bodie picked the stupidest times to go into this. And why the hell couldn't he figure out that it was over? "Can't you even look at me?" "I'm working," Doyle echoed Bodie's earlier words. Cold words. A silence drew out between them. Doyle felt Bodie move away, heard him fiddling near the tea pot, then walking across the room, heard the creak as he sat in the armchair. He kept his gaze firmly on Matthews' house, where absolutely nothing interesting was happening... Silence again... Love in a Faithless Country:Alexandra
	The pub was so silent, it could have been a church or a courthouse. In the terrible quiet, over the noise of the wind, Bodie could hear his own heart beating, slow, steady, a loud drum in his ears. His mouth was dry and he noticed Doyle was licking his lips repeatedly. "You okay?" he asked very quietly... "Stage fright. You know, sweaty palms, itchy feet, heart going bang-bang," Doyle said drily. "I don't want to die, Bodie. Nobody does." He looked sidelong at Bodie, eyes wide, pupils dark in the dim light. "And if you're not scared, you're mad." "I'm scared," Bodie admitted, and thought as he spoke, how strange it was to make that confession. He had never made it to another human soul. "It won't be long," he murmured... Then they waited, and the following half hour plucked on Bodie's tight-strung nerves like a musician picking the strings of a banjo. This was the time he hated. The waiting. Erasmus Clay could not be far away now. Every minute brought him closer. Inactivity invited introspection and Bodie knew no means by which he could stop his thoughts turning inward, and backward to the past ... Nothing Left to Lose:Jane & Madelaine Ingram
	He knows this is a mistake. Knows that he should turn around and walk away. But still he stands there... He tries to reason with himself that if he just leaves now, there will be no harm done. The whole thing will be ignored, given time, swept under the carpet so they can just carry on as before. It's not too late to avoid making things worse. Much worse. But still he stays... Despite the lateness of the hour, there's a light on in the bedroom and Bodie tries not to dwell on the images that conjures up… of Doyle naked in bed, restless, horny…. But then it occurs to him that perhaps Doyle isn’t alone. And that really should be the impetus he needs to leave, because the humiliation would be tenfold if he interrupted Doyle mid-shag with some bird. But instead, against all common sense, he forces his legs to take him to the front door and he presses the buzzer. Just like he has done a hundred times before. Only this time Doyle will know it's different. He'll know this isn't just Bodie dropping by because he's bored, hungry, run out of booze… “Yeah?” Doyle's voice is unwelcoming over the speaker. “It's me,” Bodie says, surprised he sounds quite normal. There's silence... The End of the Path:Angelci5
	"Ah, don't look like that, Ray." "Like what?" he whispered; he had little breath to speak. "Like you're scared of me." "I'm not." Bodie held his gaze, a long, dark look. "I would never hurt you, Ray. Don't you know that?" He said it with a kind of wonder, as if there was so much more to know. Doyle lost his breath again, his heart beating heavily, with dread as much as anything. He was frightened all right, though not of Bodie; more at the depth of what he sensed in himself. But it was too late to stop now ... First Night, Last Night:Sebastian
	“By all rights we should be dead, anyway. Easier to shoot us than to dump us in here. Or shoot us and dump us in here. Or—“ “Shut up, Doyle.” That sounded more like Bodie ... they were standing close enough to one another that he could feel the tremors in his body. “You’re cold.” There was no water in the well, thank God, but it was damp. Bodie said nothing to that and Doyle’s worry increased. Bodie had denied injury when they had first taken stock after being chucked down the well. His own head was aching from having been knocked out by Harrison’s men, but other than that he was okay. “Bodie.” He put a hand on Bodie’s arm. Bodie flinched ...... "Doyle. I need to get out of here.” He had never, in all the years he’d known Bodie, heard panic in his voice before. Doyle’s heart heart rate sped up. “Okay. Hang on...” He heard Bodie swallow. “I was in a hole before ... Congo.” Oh, Christ. Bodie’s words from a few months ago flashed through his mind: Only some of us don't keep talking about it, right? Meredith had thought his experience as a prisoner was unique. Doyle didn’t know anything beyond the mere fact that Bodie had once been a prisoner during the Congo wars. Escape:PFL
	Bodie looked at the stranger with whom he was about to be teamed and a part of him he had ruthlessly buried since he was sixteen years old stole his breath. Doyle was beautiful, cherubic even. The shock of it making him dangerously incoherent. He tore his gaze from the luminous being suddenly standing in Cowley’s office... His fight to quell the turmoil within him absorbing him completely. Cowley took in the brooding presence in front of him and understood. The man Bodie purported to be would have been outraged by the fay creature to whom he had just been introduced. But if Bodie was the man he purported to be Bodie wouldn’t have been in CI5. The man Bodie actually was. masked his near panic by demanding “I’m going to be teamed with that?” Cowley bided his tongue; these next few minutes would tell... Bodie couldn’t look at the face which had unexpectedly made five minutes in the inner sanctum of CI5 more terrifying than any African war. Unimagined Vistas:Fiorenza-a
	"Bodie." Cowley’s voice was brisk, expressionless. "You already know, of course, the Deputy Head of the Hong Kong Special Bureau." And Bodie just had time to think, vaguely irritated, Do I? Before the realisation hit him like a blow in the gut. Hong Kong. He felt as if he’d swallowed a bucket of ice. His heart seemed to clench with apprehension, squeezed in a second into a tiny, suffocating pebble of shock in his chest and for a moment, two, three, he could think of nothing coherent at all. He felt, in fact, quite sick... He realised with a jolt that he was still staring blankly at Cowley, who was looking narrowly back; and for him, for these moments, Bodie made no attempt at all to hide his shock and fury. Then, automatically, he controlled it all as he always controlled his emotions now... Redemption:Kate Maclean:Gryphon Press
	Fight or flight, they call it, that tide of adrenaline drenching your nerves and then receding, leaving you tingling, on edge, ready for anything. And it's just filled Doyle again. That can't have been accidental. Doyle... doesn't do more than glance round with raised eyebrows. That was his hand on my arse again, damn it. What is he playing at? Bodie's eyes are crinkled at the corners, grinning conspiratorially at him. Just mates, larking about, then? No. Doyle doesn't believe that for a minute. It's deliberate and it means something. Something more than just larking about. But what? Is Bodie trying to wind Doyle up? Trying to put him down?... Doyle wonders seriously what Bodie will do if he reciprocates. Knock him into the middle of next week? Because it's getting pretty damned tempting, just to see Bodie's reaction. Or is it a genuine come-on? An invitation? In which case, Bodie is asking for a response, isn't he? And in that case, he might get more than he bargains for, because Doyle is no stranger to that side of life. You reckon you could take me? Cos I reckon I could take you. And what we do on the way there might be more than worth the risk. The adrenaline courses through again, and Doyle knows what he's going to do... Fight or Flight?:ML Mead
	Bodie had clocked him as soon as he entered the pub. He was about Bodie’s age, a lean yet muscular man, curly hair, tight jeans...either very confident in his ability or he’d had too much to drink. Although he didn’t look drunk or stupid, he was encroaching on the gang’s space and staring at Tommy with an intenseness that was going to attract their attention. And there it was. “Got a problem, son?” shouted one of the gang. Instead of backing off like any sane person would, the curl haired man stood his ground. “Yeah I have as a matter of act... don’t like cop killers...” The gang circled the curly haired man who had now positioned himself into a fighting stance. “And what’s your name sunny, just so we know what to put on your headstone.” Quick as a flash the curly haired man jumped forward and punched the man square in the jaw knocking him out cold. The man fell back into two of his buddies pushing them over. “ They call me Doyle.” Bodie was trying to think of a way of ending this without blowing his cover but no ideas were coming to mind. It looked like Doyle was on his own...for now. Bodie To The rescue:Alex The Kid
	"We have to talk..." Bodie said, "Now seems as good a time as any." He didn't say 'Let's get it over with' but the words lay implicit and heavy in the morning air. Doyle wanted to scream suddenly, 'What happened? What went wrong? What did I do?!'.... He felt the protective glacier slip and strove to shore it up. "All right. Just tell me something, Bodie. Did we or did we not...." "We did," Bodie confirmed, not needing to hear the rest. "And you can't tell me you didn't enjoy it. For chrissakes, you act as if I've suddenly become a leper or something. We've been tracking Green for days and the whole time you can barely look at me or talk to me or even get remotely close to me!" Bodie looked at him, then away... "Look, it happened and I'm not sorry it happened. I told you I'd been wanting it, but...why don't we just leave it at that? You want things ... Put it down to loneliness and overactive libidos if you like." Doyle thought he heard a faint and completely uncharacteristic tone of pleading in Bodie's voice. It shook him. "I don't accept that." "Well, you'll have to, mate. That's it." Doyle felt the pain, through his wall of ice, through years of a carefully built up defense system, through to his innermost self. "Damn you, Bodie," he said and got up and walked away. Marooned:Anne Carr
	It took me three days to track down Bodie... I spoke briefly, succinctly, the words rehearsed yet as bitter as aloes on my tongue nonetheless: "He needs you." I looked at the closed, hard face. Bodie was always blankest when he felt the most. That was the way of it...But Bodie's granite face had grown harder, and he'd turned, and he'd walked away. To pause next to me, midnight-cold eyes measuring--and warning, I'd long reckoned. I'd faced him with all the passion and commitment and strength of purpose in me, flinging it at him, a gauntlet of power and will. He'd stared at me, his face unreadable, then nodded, once, before turning and striding from the room. Why Bodie had left that day had never been clear to me, but I'd hidden deep in my cache of secret guilts and resentments the inkling that Doyle was a trust I was being offered, not the gift I had convinced myself he was. Dancing in the Rain:istia
	The day after the sentencing was also the day after Bodie kissed Doyle in a lift. It was Wednesday, fresh and breezy. Their working partnership had crawled past its first birthday and was almost on its feet. Everyone woke in their own beds... Bodie drove, his shoulders tense. Doyle sat on his own tension, judging that it was not the right moment to ask those flapping questions. He knew he had at least three options. Either he shoved the whole memory into a black hole that would never again be investigated, or he kept quiet until it suddenly struck him that it was time to speak, or he waited until Bodie followed up his remarkable behaviour with something that didn't indicate chronic selective amnesia. Alternatively, of course, he could say something right now. Except now was busy, now was repeated attempts at 50mph in a 30mph zone. Maybe tomorrow. Tomorrow's Life:JoJo

	....Dark circles under his eyes and a ghastly gray-green pallor betrayed the excesses of the night. Doyle couldn't have loved him more if he'd just crawled out of a garbage-strewn alley soaked in cat piss. "Mornin'," he said warmly, eager to resume where they'd left off. Bodie stared at him. "Is that what this is? Christ, it sucks....." "Bodie?" A flicker of doubt crossed Doyle's mind. The other man paused, looked at him steadily. "What?" There was a distinct note of irritation in his voice. Still smiling, still trying to be happy, Doyle said, "I was just thinking what a terrific evening we had. Didn't we?" Something wasn't right. The blank look on Bodie's face wasn't right at all. Bodie slowly shook his head. "You're mental, Doyle. Gettin' so sloshed I can barely pee straight is not my idea of a good time." "But--" Doyle's smile faded. It suddenly struck him what the problem was. Bodie was pretending that nothing had happened last night. Because he didn't want anything to have happened. He felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. On a Hot Summer Night:Alexandra
	Find me, Bodie had said.... He had to think like Bodie - shouldn’t be too hard, it was what they did at work every day, and outside work too...They were on the first floor - down was the ground floor, with security and the typing pool, then the basement with its long pipe-lined corridors and dusty rooms. Bodie was wearing new trousers. Brown corduroy, tight in all the places Doyle could have wished them to be tight. Upstairs, then. Second floor offices, empty rooms, ranks of filing cabinets - no wonder no one else was searching up here. Third floor, completely abandoned - CI5 wasn’t that big... In a corner of the landing there was a hatch up to the attics, low enough to open, though any ladder was long gone, and then there was another narrow but long corridor, with slant-roofed rooms down either side. Find me… Doyle hesitated a bare moment, listening, but there was only the now-distant calls of the others, the occasional rumble of a vehicle down Christmas-quiet roads. There was no sign that Bodie was up there, but… Find me… No sound inside. He was going to look a right idiot if he’d got it wrong. Find me.....Together at Christmas:Slantedlight
	And tossed casually on the rumpled black silk were the kind of items Bodie had not seen in years. Not since a weekend in Cherbourg with a girl called Francine, whose tastes ran to the definitely exotic. But he did not think a girl had been at play here... "What is it?" Ray asked, hushed, as if they were up to something very wicked, and very exciting.... "It's a body harness. Very chic. Play clothes, for the man who has everything. See? This strap buckles to the collar, this one buckles around the waist like a belt, this one buckles to the top of the cockring." "Oh." Ray took a shaky breath. "Then, that'll be the neck collar and that'll be the cockring, on the bed there." He leaned over and gingerly lifted up the two soft but sturdy leather pieces. "The cockring's got two loops......Christ, Bodie, this is kinky." A Game for Two Players:Jane
	Bodie made his usual grand entrance, this time carrying- "What the hell?" Ray barked when Bodie thrust the red roses... "Told you that you needed courting." "I'm not a bird...." Bodie smiled. "Nice shirt," he said softly....Haven't seen you all week. Been looking forward to this." Doyle canted his head to glance up. "You have?" "Yup." Bodie cocked his head, smiling. "Let's go." "Where to?" "Ahhhh, but the guest doesn't ask the host where they're dining." Ray's irritation suddenly flared. "I'm not some- This isn't a date!" "But it is. The first of many....You need somebody who appreciates you." Last Time Around:Lilyk
	Doyle might not know how to deal with bitches like this; but Bodie did. Bodie threw down another drink, then walked over to look down at Margo as her eyes followed his every move. "Is Doyle right," he asked when he stood over her, "Do you want to get fucked?" Her answer was a weak "Yes." "Louder," Bodie demanded. "I need to make sure this is what you want." "Yes. Yes," she stated with a little more force each time. "Well then, get up on the settee." Scrambling to sit up, Margo did as she was told and Bodie moved to stand over her. "You'll have to get it ready," he said. Margo began rubbing the inside of Bodie's thighs and then reached for the swelling length beneath two layers of material. "Go on, sweetheart," he murmured, kicking off his shoes, "pull it out." Trembling, her hands went to his belt buckle, loosening the leather then reaching for his zip..... Whisper of a Kill:Lois Welling
	"I seem to remember you saying something yesterday about how much you hated the man. Why is that?" .... "Well, there was this girl...." He let out a mournful sigh. "Suzanne. She was beautiful. Had this lovely, long red hair...well, it doesn't matter now. It was jealousy, you see. He wanted her, I wanted her, but I won. And he couldn't take it. One day, when I wasn't around, he came round to her, and he had this knife--" He broke off, rubbing a hand across his eyes. "No, I can't tell you about it. It's too painful." Doyle had never witnessed such a fake performance in his entire life. But his boss was clearly moved by it. "Such a tragedy," he said. Bodie took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Well, it's history. It's over. Let's just move on, shall we?" "Of course.....You're such a brave fellow..." Doyle nearly gagged, but managed to hold back. Memoirs of a Merc:Alexandra
	I moved to stand beside him. "Will he do?" he asked. "Yes. Where did you find him?" He smiled. "Och now, Bodie, you don't really think I'm going to tell you that, do you? You had a need and I supplied it. That's all you need to know." "And her?" "She'll get her just desserts. I'll think of something - appropriate." I had no doubt that he would. House Party (I Live to Serrve):Lizzie/Harriet Allenby
	He didn't like it. Not at all, but it was a big place, and he wanted that information. Though part of him knew it was stupid, he started looking around. As he moved across the bridge, the half-expected shower of bullets broke the oppressive silence. He threw himself to one side, rolling away from the burst that only chased him. More games. Gaining his footing, he ran, rolled, then kept his head down as another barrage riddled the rubbish he'd chosen as a temporary refuge. Not just a game, he realized after a third session of run-and-duck. He was being herded. Sorry, not interested, he thought, a quick glance around giving him the choice of at least three routes back to his car and two to the river. But before he could act, the bullets sounded again, this time striking a target well away from him. He didn't move for a second, and another barrage pummeled that same distant area. His mouth suddenly dry, Doyle moved forward.... "Oh, God." He found himself staring at his worst nightmare..... The Hunter's Bait:Anne Higgins
	'Just the silver,' was Doyle's only instruction. 'All the silver....' 'They're your family!' he hissed at Doyle. 'I divorced them,' was the cool reply. 'But I didn't care for the terms of the settlement.' 'What the hell?' Bodie sounded admiring and bewildered. And angry. 'Just starting to redress an injustice. Someday,' Doyle continued with heavy sarcasm, 'this was all meant to be mine.' 'You're rich!' Bodie accused. 'Where's the country estate?' 'They're rich.' Doyle turned to regard him. 'And it's most of Wiltshire. I wasn't lying about the Sorbonne, you know. I didn't go there on welfare...' 'I know,' Bodie said... 'They didn't like you being queer...' Opportunities (Let's Make Lots of Money:Stew
	The club was dark, the air thick with smoke. Disco music blared from the speakers, and men danced in the centre of the floor. There were no women. Doyle stood still for a moment, letting his eyes adjust. He must have got it wrong—Bodie wouldn’t be here—he wouldn’t— Nevertheless, he walked towards the bar, very aware of the looks he was receiving. Bodie wasn’t here. He’d gone in to a different place. He had to have. A group of men congregated in the space between the door to the toilets and the bar. Some of them weren’t waiting for the scant privacy the toilets would provide. Bodie wasn’t amongst them. But as Doyle passed the group, the door to the toilets opened and—dammit—Bodie walked out, dressed in black. He zipped his trousers closed as he moved past the men, his natural arrogance on full display. Doyle stood still, rooted to the floor. Bodie saw him, faltered, then recovered. Don’t, Doyle thought, but he watched Bodie pull a mantle of assurance, cockiness, around him. “Ray.” Bodie walked towards him. “What are you doing in Manchester?” His voice held nothing but surprise in it, but his eyes flicked to the men watching them. Was he undercover? Was this part of…? No. Even in the dim light he could read Bodie. The only one he was trying to fool was Doyle. “You bastard,” he said as anger overwhelmed shock. “You fucking—” Unexamined Beliefs:PFL
	Seated at the corner of the bar, she watched the two men enter the soft-lighted pub, only the flicker of her luminous eyes betraying her interest. She shifted on the stool, letting her skirt slide upwards across a tanned thigh - not too much, mind, just a hint of what was offered, just enough to tantalize. Hard to hide the sigh of boredom, though it didn't matter, sex was a meaningless sweaty exertion, work for a price. Still, this time the job held a hint of mystery, the need to be seductive, the targets weren't to know she was a professional. So it helped that these two were young and clean. A pair of predators on the prowl, one was like a big black panther with raven eyes; the other was slender and quick, all curls, long limbs in fluid motion. But it was just another job, and she met dark- eyes' glance with softest of a come-hither look, sultry and disdainful. A catch, pale blue holding midnight blue for the space of a heartbeat, then slowly moving on, her eyes flickering to his friend, holding, then sliding across the room. But she could feel his motion, sense it, the quick nudge against the other man's arm, a shift in their stances, simultaneous and certain. The pick-up was easy. Predators:Jennifer Lyon
	They headed north-west across country, the same direction from which the soldiers had come. Bodie knew it was a gamble, he was either leading them into salvation or straight into the devil's lair. Studying the man in the driver’s seat, he tried to consolidate him with the psycho who’d made targets of them a little over two months ago. Back then the callous bastard had wanted them dead purely for profit so it begged the question, what game was he playing now? Was he planning to put a bullet into both of them when their backs were turned? Seemed unlikely considering he’d already had the opportunity but maybe he was waiting until they were within sight of sanctuary. The man was an enigma, a mystery too hard to crack with a pounding head so he focussed on the job at hand. He’d decide what to do with him later when his head didn’t hurt so much. A Prize Highly Valued:ci5mates
	“I get the feeling there’s some serious speculation going on about you,” he said. “How many d’you reckon think your boyfriend’s been beating you up?” Doyle looked at Bodie, trying to see him as others might....stubble beginning to shadow his jaw. Hard, seen-it-all eyes, insolent set to his mouth. Yeah, he looked the type right enough. “Speculation about us, you mean,” Doyle said. “Well,” He pointed out, “If my boyfriend’s beating me up, you know who’s in the frame, don’t you?” He regretted the words the instant they left his lips. A dangerous light was dawning in Bodie’s eyes. The Wrong End of the Stick:ElizabethOShea
	Behind them, a throat was suddenly cleared. Loudly. In a decided Scots voice. “BODIE! DOYLE! On your feet!” They sprang up. He glared at them, surveying their rumpled clothes disapprovingly. “Well? What seems to be the trouble here?” “Four kings, sir,” said Doyle, hesitantly, but unwilling to give in quite yet....“He got four kings in poker. Said he did, anyway.” Cowley transferred his baleful gaze to Bodie. “Well? Did you?” Standing very straight and at attention, despite the less than pristine clothes, Bodie said, “Sir! I did, sir!” If there was a hint of a smirk in his face, or his eyes, Cowley may have seen it. He surveyed the two for a long time—or what felt like a long time. “I think,” said Cowley quietly, “that such childish arguments should best be settled by... Macklin. Yes. I’ll call him up right now, and you can both head over tonight for a little catch-up training.” “No! Sir! That is—we’re—we’re fine,” gulped Doyle. “Oh?” asked Cowley in a very calm voice. “Are you certain, 4.5?” “Yes sir,” gulped Doyle. “We’re fine. Just—a game, after all....” Game:Hutchy/Allie
	Anger shot through him, like an arrow coldly flensed with steel; anger at Doyle's blatant exhibitionism - for he knew all too well Doyle did it out of a very calculated purpose indeed - and anger at his own helpless desire, the shaming lust that led him, every bloody time they played one of these very private little games instigated by Doyle, to gorge his eyes on Ray while he had the chance, greedily feeding on the sight of him, stashing impressions away in his memory with indecent haste, piling small detail on small detail, to be brought out at leisure, and alone... ... but even anger could do nothing to quell the growing, insistent excitement as he watched Ray undress, the intensely heightened sexual awareness, the tense alertness of anticipation... If he stops now - oh God, don't let him stop now... Siren:Sebastian
	We've seen your type before. Straight boys," and he made the term sound like a vile insult, experimenting, slumming it for the week..." "And if you want to explore your hidden desires with someone else, that's fine, that's wonderful, we're thrilled for you." The sarcasm was biting. "But find someone else. Not Bodie." "Why not?" He was surprised to hear the anger in his own voice. "Doesn't matter to you who it is, does it?" Rutter continued smoothly. Had they practiced this? He was reminded of the time Cowley'd called him and Bodie a music-hall act; the two of them had nothing on this assault. "Any man'll do. But it matters very much to us, you see." "Bodie's our friend," Hull joined in. "And on occasion is possessed of more heart than sense, especially in his love life." That wasn't Bodie. Doyle snorted inwardly. He doubted Bodie'd ever been in love in his life. And with men? Ridiculous. "We don't enjoy picking up the pieces of his broken heart," Rutter said. "And if you can bring yourself to care the slightest bit for his future welfare—" he gave Doyle a skeptical look— "you'll break up with him now, before he falls in love with you." "Why would he fall in love with me?" ...Hull smirked. "God only knows. But I saw how he was looking at you last night." Arcadia:Sineala

	Bodie said nothing. He risked a quick glance at Doyle, saw that he was turned slightly towards the driver’s seat, studying the dashboard - if he was seeing anything... “Ray. There’s nothing to worry about. Honestly -” “We’ll still be partners. Friends. I know. ‘s gonna be fine. I’m not worried. And you don’t have to work so hard to include me, and - You wanna be on your own. ‘s natural.” ..I’ve seen enough of him...of the two of you... Well, I’ve seen enough to know that he’ll make you happy. The way he looks at you. It’s obvious. I see him sometimes ... He’s noticed the way your hair curls just after it’s been washed. The way the smell of you changes as the day goes on. Hasn’t he? Everything. And he tells you. Can’t help himself. Though it’s obvious, anyway, that he thinks about you all the time. “And when he tells you ... he watches you so carefully. Doesn’t he? D’you know why? D’you know what he’s storing away for the daytime? He’s in love with the way every line of your face softens, and your mouth falls open like your lungs need more than air, and your eyes seem to be seeing ... something else. And the way you don’t even know that it’s happening. You think you’re just smiling. Sometimes I see him look at you, and I know ... he’s remembering. “It doesn’t frighten him, you see. For him it’s ... it’s wonderful. He wants it. He likes feeling his heart ... turn over. Doesn’t frighten him. Not at all...Freezing:Helen Raven
	The interior was dimly lit and crowded. The music was louder than Bodie liked, currently Love Letters in the Sand. He'd never cared for Pat Boone. He scanned hopefully for Doyle and located him in the midst of a group of about a dozen people, all familiar except for a girl who must be the new blonde...... Except he discovered that he only wanted to look at Doyle....Same ugly mug, flattered by the dim, artful lighting into brief momentary illusions of strange beauty.... Doyle in a brown shirt, open at the neck, and those dull green moleskins. Doyle laughing, swigging back something in a half-pint glass. Doyle who had slept with him the night before he left for Belfast, the way they did occasionally. Never anything serious, of course, but.... Doyle with whom he had exchanged a totally unpremeditated kiss of farewell the next morning. Doyle who had nagged at his thoughts continually, especially at night. The memory of that lean body pressed against him, strong arms holding him close, mouth yielding yet demanding in that first ever kiss. A Portrait of My Love: The Hag
	"...This doesn't make sense. You still haven't said why. Why you won't go without me ... Don't tell me -- you've fallen madly in love with me, right?" Bodie felt a sense of shock at the words, knowing that was little more than the truth but unable to admit it, to himself even less than to Doyle. He covered quickly. "Listen, mate, it's like the ol' man's bum leg. It's a right pain to him sometimes, but he'd sooner hang on to it, just the same." Doyle stared at him, wondering if Bodie realized what he'd just said and what it implied. Bodie cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, it doesn't mean he's in love with his bloody leg, does it?" he repaired falteringly, half-way realizing the import of the bald statement, "He's just used to havin' it..." He shut up abruptly before he dug himself in any deeper.... Time Out:Past Tense:Pamela Rose
	Doyle was just about to turn the page when a familiar spiky hand looped around some of the titles and curving onto the opposite leaf dragged his gaze back. Peering more closely, he realised they were notes and a small fond smile twitched his lips. Reading through them, hearing Bodie’s cheery, teasing tones in his ears, Doyle slowly began to realise just how much he’d missed his partner in the last few weeks. He missed being with Bodie and missed joking with him and being privy to the strange telepathic connection that they shared, but that was part of the problem, though wasn’t it? He was a mess – dangerous. Bodie had nearly died because of him and it wasn’t the first time......Like a drowning man, he had been concentrating too much on just trying to stay afloat that he’d missed the lifeboat and had been lost at sea. Eventually, trying to swim in the crashing waves had just become too hard and like the drowning victim he’d let go and let himself go under. But Bodie hadn’t let him go. The tiny thought burned like a single star in the darkness....Bodie – he couldn’t leave Bodie. Bodie, part of the reason that he had wanted to die because he thought he deserved better. The pain of being near him had become too much... The Sun Will Still Rise in the East:Agent_Talis
	"That wasn't what I was asking. Christ, Bodie, I wouldn't mind as much if you had slept around. Not if you could look me in the eye and tell you'd always been a hundred percent sure I wasn't a traitor....." "Look, it wasn't easy -- I never wanted to believe -- but Cowley showed me the evidence. I wanted to believe in you -- even did my own investigation, trying to find something that would clear your name. But in the end -" He looked away, horrified to hear his voice crack a little. "In the end it was easier to believe the accusations were true. Because if you weren't a traitor, you were probably dead." "Jesus, Bodie," Doyle said in a low voice, etched with pain. Bodie didn't dare look up at him, because he knew that if he did, then he'd crack..... The Long Game:Garonne
	It's after midnight and he can still hear revellers shouting on the streets outside, and the intermittent pop of a stray firework. His discontent can't have anything to do with the job, either. Cowley was a bit put out, at first, but they'd managed to track down Wright and retrieve the stolen guns. Then the old man smiled, said the operation could be considered keel there, too. Bodie himself was patched up, and healing nicely, no nerve damage in his hands. He'd had to talk to Dr. Ross of course, but she'd failed to ferret out any evidence of psychological trauma. Which made sense, since there was nothing in his subconscious to trouble him anymore now that his ghosts had all been tucked neatly back where they belonged. Doyle still hadn't got his missing memories back, but otherwise the doctors said his mental faculties were in as good a shape as ever. Doyle. Bodie pauses, disturbed. Doyle is fine. The partnership is fine. Everything is the same as it's always been... Except that Bodie can't forget the feel of Doyle's coarse springy curls against his cheek, the rough texture of his skin, the scent of him and the warm weight of his body..... Present Company:Rebelcat
	I want us to work together, I want us to go to his flat together. I want Ray cooking and me doing the dishes afterwards. I want us to fight over the progamme on the telly or beat him playing cards. I want Ray to shout at me for getting us behind in the schedule, every morning. I want to fall asleep knowing that this will be our bed for at least 1 more day. I want him to edge me on during training, forcing me to go that last mile that'll make me fit. I want to teach him not to pull his punches, least of all with me. I want us squabbling when it's time to do the laundry. I want us going on the shooting range, comparing scores. I want us to be apart only to come together again. I want us to tear into each other. I want us to make up. I want us to be together. I want him. I want him to want me, too. It's not what he wants though ... Altruism:Marrie
	(He) dropped his head back...and closed his eyes....Oh, he hated this – well, no. That wasn't the right word, because it was worth the ache and the strain of hiding his feelings to have Bodie in his life, to horde these private, unguarded moments his partner gave to no-one else. Even more precious and painful were the times when Bodie lost the “matey” mask and his affection for Doyle showed through. Bodie loved him, Doyle knew that. It just wasn't the same way Doyle loved him. Bodie loved him as a friend and best mate, and that would have to be enough. Doyle would stay silent the rest of his days if that was what it took to keep Bodie.... No, he didn't hate this at all. But he was tired... This Christmastide:jessebee
	"What the hell's wrong with you?" Pain was raw in his voice. "Are you that bloody naive or just plain daft? Why won't you see the risk, at least admit it's there? And pack him in." "No." "My God, has he got you hooked that much? I don't believe it." "Believe what you want, I'm not discussing..." "Yes, you are....What do you need from him, damn it?" he shouted. "What the hell can he do for you that I can't?" Shock jolted through Doyle, slackening his jaw and widening his eyes. Bodie's face mirrored the reaction as he, too, realized what he had said... "Well?" Bodie demanded, a kind of defiance covering his astonishment. "Tell me." Doyle could not answer immediately. Mentally reeling from that one sentence, his first impulse was to admit the set-up. But Cowley had stressed that nobody, Bodie included, should know. But if he didn't spill the beans, Bodie would assume.... Of Tethered Goats and Tigers:Tarot
	... it was just a bullet, even if it had spun a path of fire through him, left the flames licking their way into his blood. Good job it hadn't been a dum-dum, mind, that would've made a hell of a mess. Maybe Doyle was right, maybe dum-dum's weren't such a good idea. The Yanks used them all the time, mind, so did estate managers and... yeah, he bet Paul Cougan'd had his firearms certificate beefed up with it, to keep all those nasty deer at bay... Bastard. They'd get him one of these days. He'd get him one of these days, for what he'd nearly done to Doyle. Yeah, Doyle'd come, like a bullet straight through Bodie's heart, he'd come running any minute now, roaring Bodie's name... Bodie froze, eyes wide, staring at the rivets on the black iron in front of him. Where had that come from? Doyle in his heart? Doyle wasn't anywhere near his heart, Doyle was a mate, he was... He was coming now for Bodie, Bodie heard his shout in the distance, just as he'd expected, coming to find Bodie and to... to what? Well, they always found each other, didn't they, that was what they did. It was just... expected. Natural. Bullets:Slantedlight
	It’s almost like the old days, he thinks painfully.... “Anyway, what about you?” Doyle asks, after making Bodie laugh with a story about a flak jacket, a sniffer dog and an unfortunate MP. “You haven’t done too badly either, have you?” “Yeah, business is steady, can’t complain. I’m hoping to set up a shooting range soon, too. We get a lot of ex-army boys, so it should be popular...” “And how’s the family?” Doyle forces himself to ask.... Bodie hesitates momentarily. “Chrissie and I divorced,” he says. “Couple of years ago.” Doyle’s heart skips a beat. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he says. And he is, sort of. She’d been funny and sporty, very pretty... not a bad match for Bodie. Never mind the sacrifices he made for her. Bodie shrugs. “It was for the best... she’s re-married now.” “And your daughter?” asks Doyle, somehow managing to keep his voice level.... “Daughters. Got two. Ellie’s fourteen now, and Katie’s eleven,” he says. Doyle tries to ignore the mix of emotions rocketing through him... Bodie’s divorced... With two kids...The Meeting:Angelci5
	Doyle lay awake, staring into the darkness. Tina was fast asleep, her hair spilling over his shoulder and tickling his chest. Absently, he pushed it away. She mumbled something in her sleep and pulled the covers closer under her chin. There was something wrong. Okay, Tina wasn't Miss World but she was appealing enough. So why had he kept expecting to find hard muscle instead of soft curves? Why had he been wanting to bury his fingers in short, black hair....? And why would Tina's moans and tangled phrases of pleasure have been so much more satisfying if they'd been a couple of octaves deeper and spoken with a Birkenhead accent? He sighed with frustration. It was perfectly understandable, if you approached it logically. His most recent sexual experience had been with Bodie and it was so unusual and so recent that, of course, it had kind of imprinted itself on his consciousness. Probably there was always this comparison going on in the back of his mind and he just didn't notice it. Fancying Bodie would be more trouble than it was worth, so he'd just have to prove to himself that everything was perfectly logical, understandable and normal. Really. Not in Love:Derry
	Doyle was quiet, waiting for him to say something. But he didn't know what to say. "Beautiful." "Yeh, yeh. Like looking in a mirror." There was a sharpness to Doyle's voice, but looking again at the picture softened its cutting edge. It was a charcoal, and the lines were rough and strong. And anybody who knew him would recognise the subject was Bodie himself. Nude..... It really was beautiful. It made him look beautiful. Not young; it was him, now, looking better than he had this morning.It had been sketched out of memory, he would have guessed. The eyebrows were sketched in to give the face an amused expression that somehow didn't seem out of place even though there wasn't anything in the picture to look amused about. Maybe he'd been having a good thought, and Ray had caught it....Definitely the face of a creampuff. And the body of a man who ate them. But strong. Sure. There was no trace of mockery in the image. Only love, humour, and the keen observation of someone who'd spent too many hours looking at him to be taken in by any of it. He cleared his throat, which had gone tight. "Thanks." Zeno's Paradox:Miriam Heddy
	Doyle had spoken the verboten word. Love. Not in his dictionary. As Bodie was so fond of saying, not in his book at all To have Doyle, loving him………wanting to hold him forever. Owning him, tying him down, making him stay in the one place...It filled him up, spilling over, the thought of Doyle loving him. But it emptied him, ebbing him away, the thought of Doyle when the disillusionment set in, when the dissatisfaction crowded all the love out...And it never even occurred to him to wonder at the way he looked at Doyle, nor the way he risked his life for him, nor the way he already put Doyle first in everything... It never occurred to him at all, for then he would have to question that most intrinsic of things, his own self-identity. Only queers loved other men.....Only queers were sweet and soft and romantic with other men. A Summer's Outing:M Fae Glasgow
	Doyle's eyes didn't shift, but Bodie saw the attention turn to him. It was like watching metal catch the light. "Keep breathing." Bodie kept his voice soft, hoping to convey to Doyle something like the reassurance Doyle's voice had held for him. "Can't be long now...." Doyle might be beyond speech, but he didn't need words to reply.....(His) eyes softened. The look held between them, no words necessary. Whatever it took, no matter how long the rdeal lasted, this much was solid. The connection between them was clean and clear. Steadfast, they waited together. Bodie heard the siren first..... Hang About: Irene (Proslib)
	“We couldn’t raise you on the R/T.” “Wha—?...." “I came to find you.” Bodie had followed him, was close...There was something in his voice that held Doyle still. (Yeah, I saw you through the window, lying on the floor. Thought it was a bloody strange place to have a kip. Spilled the milk, too. Very messy.) “I killed him,” Doyle said. “Fought him off.” “Brian will be pleased.” ...Bodie’s voice was back to normal. They could bury it, as they always did. Make a joke, shrug it off, do something. He reached out, and when Bodie flinched, he knew he’d been right. He took Bodie’s hand in his, held it as he never had before. “It wasn’t me on the ground this time.” For a long moment, Bodie didn’t move....“You missed.” “Recognised—” But he could say no more. Disaster had been averted by the slimmest of margins—a flicker of recognition and muscle memory. “First thing they taught us—don’t shoot your partner.” No Stranger:PFL

	... he was unaware for a moment that the man was now upright and returning his blatant stare. The pen fell out of his mouth and plunged headlong towards his notebook, splattering ink in all directions. Damn.... Bodie tried valiantly after that to keep his mind on the work in hand. Tried. It was not easy. When tempted beyond endurance he scanned the whole of the room first, so that any surveillance would seem entirely accidental. It worked well, until one casual sweep found Doyle leaning against the shelves beside the window. Shafts of radiant sunlight fell on his hair and face, giving him an altogether magical air and Bodie's mouth fell open once again. Rapt, he only surfaced when he noticed the man's....glance and twitch of lips. He knew. Well he would wouldn't he? Looking like that. You would know the effect you had on people. A Birdwatcher's Guide to Cornish Ghosts:Lizzie
	"Your partner, Agent 3.7," Cowley clarified. "His code number. You'll be 4.5; it's best you memorise that as soon as you can, since you--ah, good, come in, Bodie!" Behind Doyle, there was the sound of a door opening, and as Doyle turned and met the stranger's eyes he realised that there was, in fact, a way the situation could be worse: his new partner was exactly, perfectly his type. Damn it. The newcomer's eyes, a startlingly intense blue, flicked quickly over Doyle, assessing and then, it seemed, dismissing him as a threat. The man's lips curled a little, a ghost of a smile in a carved face, and Doyle felt a confused, uncomfortable rush of heat. Attraction, of course, but the sort of thing he'd last recalled feeling when the Ravenclaw boys in the year above him brushed past in the corridor--the thrill of a beautiful stranger, above him and somehow untouchably, unutterably perfect...... Doyle imagined him smiling truly, lips parted, head tilted back as he slid and arched up against him--no. Not now. Christ..... Special Men:Sineala
	....Bodie twirled at a movement behind him. He did not need to shoot. Another armed man was falling already, his gunshot going wide because of a well-placed kick by a curly-haired stranger, who followed it up with a boot to the neck. The man who would have shot Bodie went down, his gun falling to the side. He lay motionless. “Much obliged,” said Bodie. But the newcomer was not ready to give him the benefit of the doubt. His rescuer stepped forward into the hallway, green eyes blazing. “Hold it!” he said to Bodie, his voice hard with authority. “Drop that gun. You’re under arrest.” “Oh, for God’s sake,” said Bodie. He was not intimidated by the manner, especially from someone who was more tough than large......He glared at the stranger, some over-trained cop with flair for martial arts who had no idea what he was walking into. Not a patrolman, which Bodie’d expected: plain clothes CID, in tight jeans... Curly hair and slim build gave him the impression of youth. Tired green eyes, heavy with experience and hostility, gave a contradictory impression of maturity...“You have the wrong side here, sunshine. I’m one of the good guys...” Forever True:Fajrdrako
	...he was beautiful. His hair was very dark, worn in a neat spacer's crop, close around the ears and back of the neck. What remained of his fleshware—mainly his legs and lower torso—was sturdy and muscular, with fine pale skin showing between the scars. His face was bruised, probably from his latest encounter with Rahad, but remarkably undamaged. Indigo eyes, thickly fringed with dark lashes, watched R4A5Y with suspicion and only thinly-concealed fury. "Think you'll know me again?" he said in a low harsh voice after a few seconds..... "Jesus christ, what's Rahad been doing to you?" he blurted out. "You must be new," the 'borg said. "You can't have missed it otherwise." "I can't believe you're still functioning with these levels of damage. How are you maintaining your integration?" "Buggered if I know." The 'borg shrugged slightly. "What do you want, suggestions for improvement?' "Oh, sorry." R4A5Y moved his face covering down for a moment so his optivisor was visible. "I'm from CI5. I'm here to rescue you." A Future to This Life:Verlaine
	.....he knows all about DS Doyle, his accomplishments and his disasters. Joined the Met more or less out of art school, an even less likely recruit there than here, after an undistinguished stint as barrow boy, bartender, and other such part-time work as he deserved for frittering away three years wasting paint with a bunch of pretentious Bloomsbury nancy-boys. Did all right in the Met, not setting the Thames on fire, until his sergeant and partner took a bullet on patrol with him. Worked alone after that, beginning a determined climb through through the ranks. Bodie knows the type. Activated by perceived injustice, on a solo mission to set the world to rights. Even the thought of him makes Bodie tired. And he's been doing all right with the training so far, but why would Cowley bother with him, and with the other civilians, when he's got military candidates queuing up for the chance? Why try to graft counterterrorism skills onto shop boys and bobbies? Bodie doesn't understand it.... Painted Angels:Angelfish
	The speaker droned on, as only speakers on a stage can. Bodie had heard it all before, dozens of times - it felt like hundreds of times - and he let his gaze wander, keeping half an ear out for a change of subject. How the hell else were you going to enter a building full of armed men who wanted nothing better than to shoot you, anyway? What he really wondered was how many of the blokes around him didn’t have a clue about it, because if he was partnered with any of them when Cowley made his selections, it would only be a matter of time before he had to cut them loose.There - that tall drink of water he’d spotted on the way in, he was actually taking notes. And the bloke with the birds-nest hair, he was paying such close attention it was a wonder he hadn’t wandered up to the stage to sit beside the boring bloody ponce. He was almost in profile to Bodie, his eyes unwaveringly on the speaker, actually concentrating. Not that you had to be Brains to work out he’d never been in the army - what was he supposed to be, anyway? Anson’d heard rumours they were being assigned some kind of social worker trick cyclist to sob their hearts out to after killing other killers, and this bloke looked the type - it could be him. Not in the Bush Now:Slantedlight
	...there was a darkness in him, as well. It was there, hidden in Cowley’s reports and the interviews with Bodie. He’d conducted some of them himself, watched others from behind two way glass. He’d read the transcripts and seen the arrogant, hard face of a man who did not look back — who refused to regret any decision he’d made, no matter what. Someone so hard and unyielding had his place, of course, but was it in CI5? Perhaps Bodie was fit only to be a soldier...... Bodie didn’t have Doyle’s propensity to go off like an angry rocket, but he had a danger inside him that could not but affect his job. That was well and good, if he learned the limits. If he used his skills to get results (without breaking heads simply because he decided they needed broken, without finding malicious joy in the deed for its own sake), then he could be a fine agent, one of the very best. In short, Cowley wanted Bodie and Doyle to both work out—separately if they must, together if they could—but he was by no means certain that they would. They were still very much untried. Lessons
	"A lot of police work involves sitting and waiting and watching.” “Can’t see the appeal, myself,” Bodie shrugged. “That what made you want to be a copper – voyeur, are you?” Doyle’s jaw clenched at the implied insult. Bodie had been goading him since Cowley had informed them that they were to be partners. Getting Doyle to lose his temper seemed to be Bodie’s main ambition. Yet, there was something in the ex-mercenaries demeanour that made Doyle believe there was more to the man than he let show. He choked back his initial response and hoping that sharing his past might encourage Bodie to do the same, he opened himself up to more of the man’s scorn....“Actually, I had wanted to be an artist.” He turned his head towards Bodie to see the reaction..... “An artist?” “Yeah, painting. Spent a year in Paris, living all the clichés.” “So what happened? No Doyle’s hanging in the Louvre?” “Realised I wasn’t good enough...."Disclosures:Merentha13
	He looked at the file still lying open on his desk and pulled out the pile of photocopied passports. He leafed through them, glancing at each of the small photos until the face of a dissenting seraph with familiar untamed curls was gazing up at him. Raymond Doyle. So he was right. Bodie sat back in his chair and regarded the picture. So much for having a face like a bag of spanners… Struck by the critic’s unexpected beauty, he felt a stab of lust. The hair was a little shorter in the photo, framing tantalising features; exotic, knowing eyes, full lips and high cheek bones… one slightly indented. Perhaps someone didn’t like one of his reviews, Bodie thought wryly, trying and failing to ignore his body’s reaction to the photo. At least he was in private this time...... An Island Affair:Angelci5
	Duncan worked the room the way a politician works a fund-raiser or a whore works a client. The music was on again and it was grinding and seductive. He barked out orders....shifting, moving, adjusting, as the shutter snapped and film was consumed. Bodie watched mesmerized from his front row vantage point--having been told unequivocally that whatever happened, he was not to move. It was hard to tell who was hotter, the man behind the camera or the man in its sights... Bodie realized that his bet had been a loser from the start--he'd been had by this siren of a man who squatted and pranced and posed with as much élan as his models, maybe more. The erection was inevitable and within the confines of the pouch, it was uncomfortable as well. The discomfort flickered on Bodie's face and despite orders, he shifted trying to get purchase on a more comfortable position for his increasingly bulky genitalia. He had just finished squirming when Ray's voice sang out over the music one last time. "That's it--we're finished. It's a wrap. Good work everyone. I think we have something really special this time." The Sting:Elspeth Leigh
	".....There’s my ID.” “CI5,” Ray read out. “William Bodie. Agent Number 3.7. I’ve heard of CI5 – aren’t they usually all cloak and dagger and preventing assassinations? The political angle? Just what do you think is going on at Henbray?” Bodie raised his eyebrow. “I can’t exactly tell you chapter and verse. But everything connects, you know. What’s a straightforward crime in one country can mean a political act in another.” He spoke as if he was quoting a saying he often heard, and did not really think about, or even perhaps understand. “How do I know the ID is real?” “Phone my boss if you want. There’s a number on the card, or I can give you one that doesn’t go through three layers of secretarial staff. I was going to ask to use your phone in any case – I need to arrange how they’re going to extract me.” “A national government agency can’t send a taxi?” Bodie gave him an impatient look......Why I Sojourn Here:Halotolerant
	The skinny bloke had auburn hair like a brillo pad. His cheek had broken at some point, and been irregularly set. As he laughed, Bodie could see that some of his teeth were crooked. His laugh was so infectious that Bodie found himself laughing along with him. He had dimples; Bodie liked that. And spirit. He liked that, too. "Look......why don't we go get some breakfast?" Bodie hesitated. "I'll buy," said the young man, quickly. Bodie looked at him again, more speculatively. A potential client? No. Too young, too scruffy, probably didn't have much more cash to him than Bodie did himself. Quite possibly less, since Bodie had spent the night with Old Midas, and that meant his pockets were full for a change. "Can't," said Bodie succinctly..... Rent Boy:Elizabeth Holden (Fajrdrako)
	"Have you any idea what time the floor show starts?" The deep voice with its softly spoken question startled him, he jumped and splashed his drink over his hand and the polished table top. "No," he tried to cover up his surprise and looked up into a pleasantly friendly face. "I didn't know there was going to be a show. I thought it was dancing all night." "This is your first visit here then?" The black clad figure enquired politely, still standing by the table. Looking up at the stranger, he smiled inwardly. A variation of the 'do you come here often' routine. Apart from the absence of a different gender it seemed as if the rules of play didn't change much. The thought was comforting. If the rules were the same he knew how to play.... On Paper:Rob
	He hadn’t been with a man in five years when he met Bodie: the proverbial spanner in the works. Doyle had wanted Bodie from the moment he laid eyes on him. He’d also disliked him, from his taste in over-fussy clothes to his apparently shallow personality. Worst of all was the arrogant smirk that almost always graced his features.... Without the smirk, Bodie was delightful to look at. His teeth weren’t perfect, but his smile was boyish and infectious. He tended to pout, which was an endless source of amusement — and teasing — for Doyle. His eyes were a striking shade of dark blue, thickly lashed, and wonderfully expressive. They could be chilling, sarcastic; they could show gut-wrenching anger and frustration, they could sparkle with humour, or shine with warmth and affection. As the months of their acquaintance went by, and developed into friendship, Doyle saw that look of warmth more often, and what was more, it was directed at him. They bickered and sniped at each other just as much, but when Doyle thought of Bodie — fellow recruit, colleague, friend — it was the warmth he remembered. Measuring Scars: Maddalia
	My first close up of young Master Raymond threw me. I had wanted to let him think I was a bumbling country bumpkin who he could boss around, waiting for the right time to ensure he got his come-uppance. But when I was face to face with him, it was like my brain stopped working. He was striking, there was no other way to describe his exotic looks. His dark hair lay thickly in curls around his head, and his green eyes, his beautiful green eyes, were almost translucent. I wouldn’t have described him as handsome: his looks were more captivating than beautiful. But the complete visual package was fascinating to me. Then he ruined it by opening his mouth. “I asked who are you? Are you stupid?” And any attraction I felt to him ended right there. This man needed to learn how to treat people right. And with a certain amount of pleasure, I decided I was just the person to teach him....Bodie's Choice:Marjoram_Max
	Cowley can't be bloody serious. Can't be. He's sitting there looking like the straight man from some sort of nightclub act, telling me I have to work with Bodie. Bodie, William Arthur Philip. Cross between Ape Man and Casanova... Bodie looks totally impassive - that's another of his rather dubious talents. He changes from glowering to neutral to grinning like a bloody banshee just like he changes from broad Liverpudlian to BBC English at the drop of a hat... Well, we all knew we were going to get partners. I expect we've all wondered all through the training who we'd end up with. Me, I'd decided right from the start that out of all the group, there was only one who would get up my nose and he's....there beside me, in a suit, looking like he's got a ramrod stuck up his bum. Great. So we're supposed to work together. It doesn't mean we have to like each other...... You and Me Against The World:BrendaK

	I fucked Bodie. It’s the only logical conclusion I can reach. Not that it makes any sense. I’ve lain here thinking through all the evidence for a solid hour, but everything points in one direction. Consider it like this: I’m naked. I’m in Bodie’s flat. I’m in Bodie’s bed, for Chrissake. With Bodie. Who is also naked. Plus, he’s got fresh bite marks I’m looking at on the back of his neck, and they didn’t come from that petite blonde he’s been walkin’ out with for the past six weeks. ............ Evidence:FJ Bryan
	He was silent again. After a minute Doyle asked tentatively, "You'll miss her, won't you?" "Last bit of family I've got this side of the world. She said... She's always said she hoped I'd bring along a special young lady one of these days. Only the last couple of years it's been 'somebody special'. Don't know if you fancy... Next Thursday..." After a dumbfounded pause Doyle said tentatively, "Dinner with the family, sort of thing?" "Well, she's a bloody good cook......" Sapling:The Hag
	Cowley moved to his desk. "These are the transcripts of the initial interview with your bomb-setter. One Vic Dunbar...." A voice was speaking....."So they give me the address, and I come out to Bucks, and - " "Wait. They had the address? Where from?" Jax, shooting the question in. "No idea. They just knew where to be. Told me on the Monday afternoon, I was there that night, spent that night and parts of the next day watching. Had to be a quick job. And only one chance. So I went for the poofs....." "The who?" Anson's voice was louder, obviously nearly the microphone. He must have leaned right in...... There was a defiant laugh. "The poofs. You know who I'm talking about." Short silence, then: "You must do. The other two? The ones in the new wing. All over each other, they were. No idea why they kept two beds. They never even needed to talk to each other....God's truth, guv'ner. S'why I went for them. Get the right bed, and take two of them out at once." Over the rushing in his ears, Doyle could hear the tape continue. Whistle Blower:ML Mead
	He gave her his most alluring smile and said inordinately loudly, “How about you and me get together after this darlin?” At this the court was in disarray, the stenographer blushed, the Judge was infuriated and there were giggles and guffaws from the gallery and jury. Doyle’s jaw dropped. The Barrister asked, “Would you mind repeating that, Mr Bodie?” Bodie replied, “Well she’s a bit of alright isn’t she?” He turned back to the stenographer, winked and said, “What do you say love, you an’ me?” Alarm bells were beginning to ring in Doyle’s head, what’s the fool up to? Bodie knew better than this. There was too much at stake to be playing around. Tainted Evidence:Ci5mates
	"Do'you want us to stake it out?" Even as he asked it he could see from Cowley's face that it was more than that; the look of embarrassment was back again.... "We need a behind-the-scenes look at the place, Doyle.......And that means someone working there - in the kind of job where no one will even think of suspecting someone from CI5..." Doyle was beginning to get that little prickle up and down his spine that told him he wasn't going to like this. He eyed his boss tolerantly. "You'd better spit it out, sir. You're giving me goose pimples hedging round it like this. What exactly is it you want us to do... or is it just me you're putting on the spot?" After all, there had to be some good reason for Bodie's exclusion from this interview. "You, Doyle. Plato's is looking for a... er... a male stripper. I'm not instructing you to do this, you understand. In this case I'm prepared to give you the option." Doyle's sense of outrage was warring with sheer disbelief.... Air on the G String:O Yardley
	"Tell me who you fancy. I'll tell you if he's available." "You prat! Okay... ah," He thought very hard but couldn't come up with one possibility. "I don't really fancy anyone on the squad," he confessed. "Nobody at all? No handsome face has bewitched you? No leanly-muscled body had driven you into ecstasies of the naughtiest kind? ...It's The Cow, isn't it?" Bodie demanded. Ray gurgled helplessly. "No, it's... it's... Macklin, isn't it? S&M? That's why you enjoy the bashing he gives us." Ray laughed until he hurt. When he finally began to recover he gasped, "the only one I could ever fancy is you, Bodie." There, it was out. Bodie's face shuttered immediately. "Oh, very good choice," he replied with a coolness that sobered Ray immediately. "S'true. Still, it'd be too much to ask, wouldn't it? Besides, I don't want to ruin the relationship." "Yeah." "Yeah," Ray repeated...... "But I'd do it," Bodie said, finally... Noises at Dawn:Fanny Adams
	Dear Ray, You weren't kidding when you said you felt better, were you? Was like getting-- I'm so bloody glad to have you back. I know it's only been just over two weeks. Felt like forever. Anson's looking at me like I'm demented. Having ripped your letter open and read it three times in the car I'm writing away like there's no tomorrow. Maybe it's because I'm hoping to get a love letter out of you. Christ. I knew this writing lark was a mistake. It lulls you into a false sense of security. But it's the truth, I won't pretend otherwise. It's too late for that now. Cowley should never have sent me up here. I've had too much time to think, much too much--mainly about you. And me. Settling down. Don't panic....... No Unicorns:Sebastian & HG
	"It's two days to the beginning of the conference," Doyle said brightly. ."Once it's over, Northcroft will be going back to the States." A small smile of satisfaction graced Ray's lips. Bodie shrugged. "So?" "So, you and he have been going at it hot and heavy for weeks, I was wondering if you were going to be broken-hearted when he leaves." Doyle sounded like he'd be delighted if that were the case. With a sigh, Bodie realised it was now or never. "I might go with him....." "What?" ... "Robert offered me a job in Seattle....." Love's The Last To Know:Meridian
	"You're never joking, sir?" Still unbelieving, Doyle looked....at Cowley, who stared firmly back at him, like this assignment was real. It couldn't be. He must be dreaming..... "This is a matter of the highest national importance, 4.5." "But it's ridiculous!" It didn't make any sense. It didn't. So there was a gay bloke who had some kind of vendetta best expressed by high explosives and assault weapons, the brief had said. And CI5 stood a chance of infiltrating his circle only if... only if... Doyle flailed around for another excuse. "But why does it have to be Bodie?" ...Cowley shook his head. "I don't want anyone working on this operation alone. Too risky. I need both of you, lads. Besides, the fastest way to have him approach you is to have you very publicly, er--" he tripped over the slang term-- "out yourselves." "But... a wedding?" Concatenaton:Sineala
	"My comrades and I--have something--very important to discuss with you," Georgi explained......"We are not returning to the Soviet Union. We wish to defect..... That is our final decision." "You know we can force you to go home," Doyle said. "Yes, but I know that you will not." "Eh?" Bodie raised an eyebrow. "Seem quite sure of yourself." Georgi looked directly at Bodie, and after swallowing hard, he said, "We have had much discussion, and we know you and Doyle are the ones who will help us. Because you are like us. We know you both understand." "Understand?" Doyle echoed. "Understand what?" Georgi gave a faint smile. "What it is like to be homosexual. Gay, the word that is sed in the West. Like you, we are gay men....." State Secrets:LilyK
	As Bodie watched, Doyle got out of his car, following the most recent arrivals through the gates. So far, he had seen a number of men go through there, but no one had yet come out. Everyone had been well dressed, as though for a night on the town. He came to the conclusion it was a drinking club. Ray was obviously out to get smashed.... It was ten o'clock before he began to suspect that the club was more than just a drinking club. He'd been there for nearly two hours and while a lot of men had gone inside, he hadn't seen one woman. Men Only then, he thought. But when he saw two couples emerge from the club arm-in-arm, obviously in a hurry to get down to business, he finally realised that the club was obviously a meeting place for homosexuals.... It was eleven forty-five by the time Doyle finally emerged. Bodie watched as he bumped into the heavy gates and sprawled across the pavement, giggling helplessly. He was smashed all right, he could barely stand up. Bodie was about to go and rescue him when he realized that omeone else was already there. He went cold as Doyle draped an arm around the other man'shoulders. He hadn't considered the possibility of Ray leaving the club with someone. Ray wasn't gay..... Shades of Blue:Rob
	There was a second, maybe a heartbeat of pure I can't believe this is happening, shock, before adrenaline surged through his body, and he jerked back....... "What the fuck?" He could still feel the warm imprint of the other man's lips on his..... "Ooh, straight boy get in over his head? Decided you wanted it until you were getting it?" "Fuck you. What the bloody hell are you talking about?" He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this mad. He could barely hear Jerry through the pounding in his ears. "Good act, sweetie, as good as I've ever seen, but it's a little late now, isn't it? You've been flirting with me since the gym. Looking me up and down, sitting next to me, using those big eyes and that pretty smile....." Stealing Home:Sandy K.Herrold
	It was Bodie who broke the self-imposed tranquillity. "So what's the case then, sir?" he asked. "Ah, now that's the question," Cowley answered. "The woman who has just graced us with her...inimitable presence is the head of the Watcher's Council, an international organisation charged with protecting the world from the kind of beasties most men only see in their nightmares." "Like vampires?" There was a quirk to Bodie's voice, the one he got when he didn't believe a word he was saying. Doyle sat back in his chair to see how this elaborate wind-up would play out. The next words out of Cowley's mouth would have knocked Doyle over if he hadn't been so well planted in the chair. "Aye, laddie, or demons.. " Deadly Intervention:Josey
	"...you're not going to like it." Doyle looked at him. "The other night, when I had that dream." Pause. "It wasn't the usual sort of thing..." Pause. "I dreamed there was a horse outside, only it wasn't your regular Ascot horse, this thing was... just a skull. And ribbons. And a weird sheet-thing, like a winding-cloth." Doyle was too confused to even ask what a winding-cloth was. "You mean you... you've heard of this before?" Bodie shook his head. "No, like I said, it was just a dream. A bad dream." "So you think this thing is real..." "I didn't say that..." Oh god... Suddenly it was too hot, too close inside.....How could Bodie believe something like that? Pwnco:Slantedlight
	"Doyle? What the hell are you doing here?" In his astonishment, he barely remembered to keep his voice down. Doyle rose smoothly to his feet, glancing towards the oblivious Derek. Then he turned eyes upon Bodie that seemed to glow in the dark and said, in an amazingly sultry whisper, "Waiting for you." And he drew Bodie into a passionate embrace. Still stunned, Bodie had only begun to realise that Doyle felt wonderful and tasted better when he sensed something amiss near the small of his back. A moment later, Doyle had drawn the gun from Bodie's waistband and was holding it pressed against his ribs. Bodie could feel the safety being thumbed off. He swallowed, knowing there was already a round in the chamber. "Now," Doyle breathed into Bodie's ear, "you're not going to make a single sound. Got that?" "Who the hell are you?" Bodie whispered, torn between passion and a tearing sense of betrayal. It seemed Doyle was more than a simple drug addict after all. Learning Trust:Russ
	At her smile a strange, formless pain twisted and turned within Doyle, coiling inside his stomach in serpentine folds. The woman was so very, very British, sitting there calmly sipping tea in the aftermath of an accident......resolutely making polite small talk with strangers, grateful for their offer of assistance and looking on the bright side of things.. He swallowed heavily, ridiculously affected by her, the epitome of what he was fighting to keep safe. 'Terry & June', lower middle class ordinariness personified, that in response to calamity sat placidly drinking tea whilst her husband was away seeking help, totally unconcerned about the possibility of danger. For what was there to fear? She was in the middle of the English countryside, on her way to that most mundane of activities, a caravan convention. Safe, ordinary, boring. Doyle would die to keep it so. Caravans:Mandragora
	He pulled himself up, almost to attention, and looked Bodie straight in the eye. "I' I've wanted to say this for years, never thought I would. Never thought there'd be a time when I could." He took a deep breath. "Will you come to bed with me Bodie, please. I want you so bad." It was such a shock that for several seconds Bodie could not think what to say.. "Look mate if you're feeling randy, you go out and find yourself a girl," he said. " Hell, you're using Christopher's credit card, go out and buy yourself a girl. Or a boy. Or a bloody emu come to that." Doyle did not even smile. "I don't want anybody else," he said, with a lack of emphasis that carried its own conviction. "I want you." And then the ultimate betrayal. "I always have." Spring-Heeled Jack:Georgina Kirrin
	"They found him, Bodie."" Cowley's voice was gravel. "He's in there." "No." The word came out from his gut, forced and riding on a wave of adrenalin. "I don't want to see him." Not now. He'd be cold and blue and frozen and... rotting. After three weeks? No. Not now. Something about Cowley's eyes might have softened - but it was probably more a trick of the light. "Go in, Bodie. That's an order." When Bodie began to shake his head, Cowley added, "He's expecting you." "He's expecting..." Bodie's voice trailed off as his mind screamed to a halt, emptied completely of all thought, all fear, everything. Time came to an end there, and faded into nothing. He waited, suspended between moments. And then time began once more and he took in a deep, desperate breath. His mouth barely moving, he murmured, "He's... alive?" Saints and Miracles:Jack Reuben Darcey
	Bodie got the call in his office in the New Scotland Yard building. Top floor. Near the top anyway. Top shelf. Near enough the ivory tower. Bright. Shiny. Concrete. Glass and steel replacing flesh and bone. A monument to modern times. To new days. To new ways. The new FBI. A new director. A new world. Bodie listened. He replied. Mechanical. How could he be mechanical? About this?... Would the agony be invisible in the dark? Would it flutter against the shuttering of his lids -- the end of a film reel flapping in the machine? Waiting for someone to turn it off. Could he blind himself? It would be blind leading the blind... "Oh Christ, no... No. No. No." Sunshine After Rain:Elspeth Leigh
	"Is that where I come in?" Doyle asks..... "Aye, Doyle. You always are quite astute.. Would you consider marrying the girl? Giving her and her child a name? It won't affect your standing in CI5, and I'm sure you would find her an amicable companion. The family also assures me that they are financially secure and that you would share in that security. Furthermore, there is no requirement that there be conjugals, but you're both adults. I'm sure you can work out the details between you... " Bodie feels his world falling out from under his feet. He wants to... shout at Cowley that Doyle is not marrying any high society bint. Why is that? Cowley will ask. Because, Bodie will respond, Doyle belongs to me. But Bodie can't say those words. And he never will. The Deal of a Lifetime:Lily K
	"And this is your partner," George Cowley was saying. "William Bodie." "Just Bodie, sir," his new partner said with a grin that was really more of a smirk. Doyle had heard of Bodie. Everybody had. He'd been in the intake of agents ahead of Doyle, but was already famous for being an arrogant bastard with a dislike of coppers. No one had said what a gorgeous bastard he was, though, Doyle thought to himself. Dark-haired, blue-eyed, and sleek...Doyle felt as if he were a street urchin who'd been mistakenly invited to a formal dinner party. Still, he'd never been one to judge a book by its cover. Maybe 'Just Bodie' wasn't so bad. "Ray Doyle," he said, and stuck out his hand. Bodie looked at him, blinked, and then turned to Cowley without shaking his hand. " Are you really partnering me with this oik?" This Charming Man:PR Zed
	A silver chain lay inside, curled round itself like a sinuous metal snake. Doyle plucked it out and stared at it. Its small, cool links made his fingers feel big, warm, clumsy. A man’s silver chain, for round your neck. No decoration, just endless links together. He let it fall into his other palm, listening to the soft, satisfying sounds of the metal against itself in the quiet of the room. His mouth had gone dry. “Bodie, I don’t know what to say.” “Say you’ll wear it. Go on, it’s better than that steel one you’re wearing!” Doyle blinked hard.... He could not do this. He could not let his eyes get damp over a Christmas present, no matter how thoughtful. Christmas at Grantleigh:Hutchnystarsk
	All day, his mind had run over what might be happening at CI5. There was no routine, never any routine, so he could only guess. A briefing by Cowley; some research, perhaps, on current cases... He found he missed it fiercely. Everything, from the smell of the wax on the floors to the absurdities of the battle against crime. More acutely, he missed Doyle. All day he had wanted to talk to him, tell him what was going on, is conscious mind only one step behind the inclination... why did a small town in Somerset make him think of Doyle? The answer hit him like a blow. Midnight Clear:Amy Morgan

	He scanned the immediate environment again. There! It looked like a roll of carpet. An off-cut. Something tossed out the back of a van or thrown over a muddy puddle on a building site to give underfoot some traction. Doyle didn't hesitate. He didn't think he hesitated. In reality he was too wrecked to move at anything like his usual speed. What was it he was seeing? Something in his brain started raising, comparing and discarding images for matches. Inanimate object? No. Animal? No. Human? Yes, possibly. Yes! Definitely! Alive? Alive? Breathing? Were they breathing? Were they moving? Searching through hell for Bodie:dollydaydream
	Doyle was conscious of the two inches that separated them, the two inches that Bodie now bridged only from necessity. Damn him! Doyle had never been more constantly aware of him. Before, he had relaxed into their shared world, their shared existence, the two of them working as one, their borders held in common, erected to keep others at bay. And now... now? Now he had no idea what to think. Bodie had kept his word. On the job, he was as physical as ever, brushing past Doyle without a qualm, guiding Doyle's foot firmly into place on precarious ladders. Off the job, though, he was careful: glasses and mugs passed without a touch, injuries bandaged deftly, and Doyle waiting... waiting for their two worlds to rejoin. Oh Bodie, what did I do?.....Nine weeks, and Doyle's heart was slowly being choked. If anything, the intensity between them had increased. Perhaps... Perhaps the constant connections had been a safe release. Perhaps I misunderstood anyway. Perhaps he didn't really want that.... Longest Night:ML Mead
	There was blood.....darkly black against the scuffed vinyl of the...seat. Doyle wanted to touch it, because it was Bodie's, to have something of Bodie's against his skin, even if it was his blood - even if it was the blood of a dead man. No. Bodie wasn't dead. Think it, believe it, believe it. The blood was thick, a patch rather than drops, and slightly smeared, as if perhaps Bodie had been lying down and then got up, sliding the injury along the seat as he did so. It was further than a head's-length from the side...maybe his shoulder? But then, if it was bleeding that much it would have to hurt, so surely he'd have put his hand over it… Unconscious then. Bodie bleeding, unconscious.... On This Day in History:Slantedlight
	He fades in and out between the steady beeps of the heart monitor, the whispered commands of doctors and nurses. He thinks he hears Bodie and Cowley talking in the background, but he could be imagining it just because he wants them to be here.....Bodie's always been Cowley's man--"Yes, sir. Running all the way, sir."--except when Doyle's in trouble. Then he's dark as the jungle. And just as determined. Would run right over the orders and the rules if it meant Doyle's life. This time, maybe it does. Doyle wants to smile, but he's forgotten how to move the muscles on his face. His body feels like someone else's, something he can only look at and never touch again. He tries to focus on Bodie's voice....He wants to tell Bodie not to be afraid, but he can't. Bodie wouldn't listen to him anyway. Never does. One Can Only See:Lacey McBain
	"Come on, Ray. How long has this been going on?" As if he couldn't guess. Doyle's second attempt at speech was successful. "Started -- last week. Was just heavy breathing at first and whispering my name. I -- I thought it was you, pratting about." He hung his head, refusing to meet his mate's eyes, ashamed at the admission. Bodie was too incensed to notice. "When did he start with the heavy stuff?" "Beginning of the week. It's been....." "Why didn't you report it?" That question did cause Doyle to look up. His bloodshot eyes were too bright and his mouth compressed into a thin line. "Oh yes -- see how that would look on an official report. Agent 4.5 receiving obscene calls from a man. Please investigate. Great conversation for the rest -room..." "All right," Bodie soothed, "so you had your reasons for NOT reporting it. Why didn't you tell me?" Doyle gulped and lowered his eyes.... Man on the Line:Kazi
	Just another job; just another day. But things had gone wrong, and it was the end of Bodie's life. He knew that, instantly, when the trigger failed to pour out the expected stream of slugs into his opponent; produced only a bewildered click, and then silence. Bodie saw it all as if in slow motion: the man who faced him, crouching in a desperation that was only now turning into speculation, hardening into a light of unlooked-for triumph as he saw that Bodie was defeated......lifting his gun, focussing it on Bodie ten yards away with no cover...It should all have been different, he thought deep in shock, it should have been me where he is now. So death was finally here. For Doyle too, maybe; Doyle would be here otherwise...He'd always known they would go together, him and Doyle.... Adagio:Sebastian
	He took a deep breath, positioned himself, and stared through the scope into the office on the other side of the road....Doyle’s finger tightened on the trigger and then relaxed fractionally "It’s okay. You’ll do it.” Bodie stood slightly behind him and to one side. Doyle felt his partner’s hand settle lightly in the small of his back, grounding him, telling him that he was not alone. It was a comfort. He took a deep breath, dropped his shoulders to steady himself and looked through the scope of the gun again. Two girls stood talking in front of the window. One of them laughed. The other looked out, straight toward Doyle and he had to fight the urge to pull back, sure that she had seen him. "Come on, come on …” he muttered. “One minute.” Doyle kept his eye on the window where their target would appear...... "Thirty seconds.” We Could Be In Skegness:alana_lerryn
	Outside.....all was abruptly quiet but for the hissing and whirring of the wind across the fens. Bodie spun around, Browning in hand, trying to hear something, anything... "I don't like this..." Doyle said, voice low. "Yeah... Where's it coming from?" "And why'd they stop?" They listened again, straining their ears against the wind. Time passed. "They've gone by - must have." "Where to?" "Dunno, but I know where I'm going, mate..." Mollycross:Slantedlight
	“Open the door.....Or I swear I’ll kick it down, he needs a doctor.” “Stand back. You stand back away from the door on the far side so I can see you.” Doyle does as he’s told, standing loose limbed, light on his feet on the other side of the room and I can see his chest rising and falling with his breath, his eyes narrowed and dark now, waiting. I recognise his stance, seen it countless times in our working lives. He’s readied himself to leap at the terrorist, risk the gun and he’s quick, I’ll give him that, but not that quick, and he’s on his own. The only advantage I’ve ever had over my partner is my weight, and the power behind it. And both are now useless. I play dead....... Doyle & Bodie - Touched Silver:Jaicen5 5
	I drift back as I have a thousand times before to the moment when Johnny was ambushed, not two feet away from me, killed instantly by a slug from Bodie’s weapon. The image replays over and over and always, always in slow motion just to make sure I don’t miss a bloody thing; the torment just doesn’t stop. Johnny’s running; arm locked out in front of him, firing randomly at the unseen enemy, brave but stupid, stupid and reckless..... I’ll never forget that rock hard face and those piercing eyes as he ripped me from my brother’s corpse, smoking gun in hand. The unsympathetic bastard dragged me away in cuffs, no chance for sentimental goodbyes. My last glimpse of Johnny was his perfectly still body in a halo of congealing blood. His death meant nothing to Bodie; just another death in a long line of murders...... Today is pay day, time to settle the account Bodie my boy. Revenge - Best Served Cold:ci5mates
	"I still don't believe it. Ray is less likely to be a double agent than I am!" "That I can believe, which is what I am trying to find out. The question is, are you?" "You think... Ray and I... Oh Christ." Cowley stared impassively back. Bodie took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself. This was not the time to start getting angry. "For what it's worth, Sir. I'm not." "I appreciate your directness, Bodie," Cowley remarked, dryly, "However, in the circumstances, you will appreciate that I don't take that as read, quite yet." "And do you have any 'evidence' against me?" Cowley shrugged. "All evidence against you is circumstantial at best. The most compelling being your sexual relationship with Doyle...." Flowers Never Bend:Andromeda
	I can’t hear much over the clanging under my feet and can’t think over the clamour of my brain. The stairway seems to last forever..... On and on and on – time like tiny grains of sand escaping from the hourglass. Everything just....slipping away....Something slipping away. I don’t think I need to explain how numb the anger makes you when it burns and blazes and takes control. Because I’m not the one in control now, it is. The anger and...I’d never admit it but – the fear. The acidic, gut-wrenching fear. How far could he have got with fully-grown whippet of a man – all wild curls and red fury in his bones? How far could he have dragged him with the barrel to his head, shouting obscenities down the stairs at us and laughing his stupid head off? Further than I can believe. Further than I can handle.... Forever:Agent_Talis
	Doyle was talking into static ''4.5, I've got him, now give us some bloody space, I need to get him out of here...No sir, he's not alright...I'll try sir, not sure how much he's hearing...Yeah, I think it would help if we could cut the distance to the car...No sir, I want to take him home...No sir, he's not a danger, least not to the general public...Of course I'm bloody sure...yes sir, sorry sir, I understand that sir, but with all due respect, they're not the ones holding his bleedin' hand... yes sir...of course not sir...yes sir ...mine sir, don't think his...yes sir, thank you sir.'' All the Perfumes of Arabia:fiorenza_a
	"I can't figure this out. It can't have been a regular bomb - a pulse bomb and gas, maybe? Take out the airplanes in the area, any cars with computerised systems, and then gas to knock the rest of us out. But why this part of London? It doesn't..." Bodie shook his head. "It's not just London." "What?" "A couple of the news stations are still up. I passed an electronics shop on the way down here. France, Russia, America- - it's the same everywhere." "Everywhere," Doyle echoed hollowly. Simple Twist of Fate:Sarah K (tears_of_nienna)
	Bodie knew he shouldn’t be there but he couldn’t stay away. It was the middle of the night and no amount of rank pulling or concession to circumstance would have allowed Bodie ntrance to the hospital, much less to Doyle at such an hour. So, it was through the back entrance, through the stores and the laundry, past the morgue that froze his blood, up the service stairs and through a window that led Bodie to the small platform above Doyle’s hospital room. He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there but his hands were starting to burn from his grip of the metal handrail. The feeling comforted Bodie; the physical pain somehow soothing the emotional one. As Bodie stood there high above Doyle, hearing the whoosh-clunk of the ventilator and watching his partner’s chest rise and fall he began to feel as if an invisible thread was connecting them.... God Complex:Pretending2BeMe
	There is a deafening scream of brakes as Bodie takes the corner wide throwing me against the passanger door. “Don’t lose them!” I yell, the Cortina before us disappearing into the distance. “Don’t.... intend to.” Bodie’s face is set with grim concentration, intent on persuing our quarry as we are led away from the outskirts of London. The streets quickly peter out into more open countryside and still the Brayshaw brothers ahead of us show no sign of slowing down.... “How’s the petrol doing?” Bodie glances at the dial. “Not good. We’re nearly out.....” “4-5 to base. Still in pursuit of the Brayshaws. We need back up...." Survival of the fittest:Wilsden
	"Have you got them all, do you think?" asked Bodie, knowing if he couldn't do his job it wouldn't matter. "Everyone in isolation who could possibly spread this thing?" "Aye, we think so," said Cowley grimly. "But it's rather like closing the barn door after the horses have bolted. There no telling..." "What about the doctors? Are they any closer?" Bodie asked, and then wished he hadn't. If the answer was no, he didn't want to hear it.... "Bodie..." Cowley began. "I'm sure he'd like to see you. You know there'd be no danger; he's completely isolated. You could--" "I have four more passenger identifications to run down," said Bodie, preempting whatever Cowley had to say. "And a meeting with one of the airline's hostesses who was not on that flight. I'm going to know more about the dead girl and her mate Edward than their own mums before I sleep. I'll be around... How is he?" Cowley looked down.... "Tick tock," said Bodie...... Doyle's War:Pandora Bachs
	He recognised the vision stalking towards him, although in a vastly different state to this present one. Before he’d been mellow, tipsy, half dozing over his drink in the booth, no real pattern to his visits. Harmless, Gavin had thought, a man down on his luck and looking for solitary company as so many did these days. God not now. Now he looked like the devil incarnate, eyes narrowed with anger and menace, he vaulted the counter, crowding Gavin up so that the sharp jabbing in his lower back escalated to full blown pain and his face came close, mean. “Where is he?” “What the hell…” As if he hadn’t had enough of a hard time already. “I don’t...” “Where is Doyle? Ray Doyle?” The hands in his shirtfront pushed back unmercifully and Gavin gave a low groan of agony.... “They took him, I don’t know where…” Gavin stammered out. “I don’t know anything.” “When?” the man snarled. “How long ago? Who took him?” A Target Disguised:Jaicen5
	They beat him with their cudgels. He held on as long as he could. He felt his ribs break, and knew there was blood running down his head. He felt consciousness fading. Somehow he was lying on the floor again, and they were kicking him. They slammed his face into the floor, holding him down, hands on his wrists and ankles, and hands, too, spreading his buttocks. It wasn't hands that fucked his arse, and he wept with the pain of it, though he tried to stop. It didn't end there. There was more pain to come, more humiliation, more things for them to do to him - to his cock, to his feet, to his mouth. He shouted curses, spitting blood, unable to move even when they let go of his arms and legs and used their fists to hit him again, and again. The light faded to darkness, and a sort of tense, pained isolation. He was in a void of sharp and wandering pain centred on his genitals. His voice had gone, and he was still screaming. When he opened his eyes, it was to a dream of Doyle... Rent Boy: Elizabeth Holden.

	Bodie; tall, dark and disconcerting. Capable of charming with platitudes one minute and bringing down with a cool jibe the next. A man of so many contradictions that Doyle hadn’t yet been able to figure him out. Ex-sailor, ex-soldier, ex-paratrooper, ex-SAS; and if half the rumours about him were true, ex-mercenary. Doyle wondered how he could have fitted all that into such a relatively short life. The rumour mill also had it that Bodie was no ordinary recruit, that he was a mole, sent in undercover to spy on the other hapless recruits and report their ineptitudes back to Cowley, maybe even to throw the proverbial spanner in the works just to see their reactions. His general disdain and the jaundiced eye he seemed to cast over the other mere mortals in the group just fed the paranoia. But if it were true, and Doyle wouldn’t have been surprised at such evidence of Cowley’s machinations, it would at least explain why he was such a general prick. What worried him, with only six of them now left, was that he could very well end up with being partnered with said prick for this next exercise. Cold Water Morning:Fictionwriter
	"An undercover agent in East Germany has offered....some highly important intelligence. It seems the East Germans are willing to trade it for a favour – the assassination of one of their own disgraced agents here in Britain.” He stopped and looked at Doyle. “They also want the man who killed Martin Cleff.” “Van Neikerk is dead.” “The East Germans don’t know that.” “So you want me to be Van Neikerk again......" He didn’t like where this was going.... Cowley studied his agent. “There’s more to this than I’m being told, and I don’t like it. There’s a very real danger to you, Doyle. I want you to think on that before you agree to this....” Scenes from a Partnership:Merentha13
	Finally the noise of latches moving came, and then the door was being pulled open, and Bodie blinked in surprise. The young woman pushed her glasses higher up her nose and smiled...."He asked me to let you in. You are Bodie, I suppose, and not a door-to-door axe-murderer?" "Bodie," Bodie affirmed, and cleared his throat. She was not so especially attractive as to make him stumble in the normal way of things – oddly dressed in a lumpy off-purple batik smock, her feet bare and her wrists disappearing under wooden bangles - but he'd not expected this. Really not expected Ray to have a girlfriend. "I'm Cozy," she told him, and laughed at his expression. "Yes, I know. It's 'Cosette', really. My parents are huge fans of Victor Hugo..... Bodie acknowledged all this with a nod......either she had no interest in Ray, or had been with him long enough to stop making a particular effort.... Half As Much As I Do:Halotolerant
	“Bodie snorted. "The DSTI? Since when do civil servants down on Victoria Street get to dabble with state secrets?” “That's enough, 3-7,” snapped Cowley. “Your uninformed opinion on this matter is not what we re here to listen to.........” “Didn’t think we had any secrets worth nicking anymore, that's all,” he muttered. “And when was the last time you read the Financial Times, 3-7?” “When they stopped giving the racing tips, sir,” rejoined Bodie, straight-faced....... “Well, laddie…” began Cowley, but Sir Allen put up a restraining hand. “Oh, it's all right, Cowley. I'm not at all surprised that ... ah, Bodie, is it?.... Bodie subscribes to the notion flogged by any number of our tabloids that Great Britain is no longer great and no longer leads the world in anything but industrial disputes and football vandalism.” A Put-Up Job:Unbelievable2
	It was a free afternoon and he ran his errands: laundry, groceries, new socks. He had been distracted when he left his flat and completely forgot to set the locks properly....Bodie was at the forefront of his mind and he had walked off without checking the door.... When he returned with his purchases in his arms, he had walked into his lounge without a moment's hesitation. His wandering brain hadn't registered the fact that the door was easily opened with one key instead of two. Walking into the living room, he had been so caught up in his musings that when he saw the woman from the junk shop where he'd bought a gold ring and a terrarium, he was more curious than frightened.... Doyle clearly remembered asking her, "How'd you get in here?". He also clearly remembered her dropping the ring from her left hand and raising her right arm. That was when he saw the glint of gold in her grasp....His reaction to seeing the silenced gun was non-existent. She'd fired before he took another breath. If Bodie hadn't been so damned arrogant, Doyle wouldn't have been shot... Head Games:LilyK
	"How long apart are the contractions?” He ignored the ‘shit’ he heard from behind him, keeping his eyes firmly on Gerda’s face. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” Behind her anger, he could see the fear on her face. “Look, love. I know we’re not exactly your favourite people, but at the moment we’re all you’ve got.” He reached out a hand and gently laid it alongside hers. It said something about her fear that she didn’t automatically push it away. Bodie could feel her tense as another contraction took hold, and took her hand in his.... “About twenty minutes apart.” Gerda spoke quietly...... “We need to find somewhere..... There isn’t much time.” Doyle straightened his coat and turned the collar up. He handed them both some chocolate, and slipped another packet into his pocket. “I’ll be as quick as I can....” Storm Force: Marjoram_Max
	"The stars." "Oh. Right. Yeah. A lot of them." Bodie had been looking directly at Doyle. Now his stance didn't change, but his eyes seemed to slide through Doyle, gazing beyond. The light and shadow on his face seemed to soften. "Moved around a lot, I did. Sometimes in cities, sometimes in little villages. Once or twice in the middle of nowhere. Night comes down suddenly there. Compared with here, at the equator it's like turning off a light. Well, a very slow light. And then it's pitch dark. Or it would be if it wasn't for the stars. They're just..." He indicated a semicircle with his arm. "Everywhere in the sky. Thousands. There's entire pale patches up there, and the stars themselves are huge. Burning. And when the moon is there..." He shook his head. "You could probably read a book by it. You can certainly take a compass bearing. Did that often enough. Not just in Africa..." Doyle listened intently, watching Bodie's face. Why did Bodie always have to reveal pieces of himself at the most inconvenient times? Whistle Blower:ML Mead
	Doyle saw Featherstoneheugh nod, ever so slightly, and Bill and Ben or whoever they were set off towards the unaware student. Their movements seemed casual but with a clearly co-ordinated walk past they managed to nudge him first one way and then the other and then, Doyle saw, he was down on the grass and the two thugs were putting the boot in. The most sickening part, Doyle thought, was that nobody stopped them, nobody even spoke, and he himself could not break cover to protect this young man from the vicious and mindless racism of this group. When the lad was curled in a ball, trying to protect his face, the books were carefully trodden into the flower bed, forming an inharmonious blur in the planting. And the bodyguards simply sauntered back to their leader's side, smiling as they came. Doyle wondered if it had been the same in Hitler's early days in Germany..... South Coast:moth2fic
	Bodie felt his empty stomach begin to crawl. A cold sweat broke out under his hairline which was nothing to do with his hangover. He knew he was looking at something – or rather, someone – he recognised......(He) still recognised the distinctive eyes, the boyish, soft-lipped mouth. Echoes came in flashback, faded imprints of intensity. A buzz at the base of his spine, a faint grasp and relax in his balls. Oh no no no. Nononononono. Not possible. Not last night’s catastrophe. “You all right?” he vaguely heard Doyle say.......Doyle’s voice was low. The timbre was nsistent....There was a brief pressure under his elbow, getting his attention. No Mere Abstraction:JoJo
	He still couldn't believe how easily they'd taken him, already dark outside.....two bruisers had jumped him from behind. They'd had his hands tied behind his back and had stuffed him into a transit van before he'd had time to think.... He'd focused on stifling his panic, a very natural response to having a sack shoved over his head but one he couldn't afford. The calmer he was the more likely they were to think he'd already resigned himself to being taken prisoner and he had to be ready if he got any opportunity at all to break free... When the van finally stopped he was unceremoniously bundled out....and then led through what he guessed must be a warehouse.... When they dragged the sack off his head his suspicions about their location were confirmed. This could be his chance as one of them would have to get close enough to put the gag on him. That train of thought came to an end when a gun muzzle pressed against his temple. Under My Skin:Draycevixen
	“How long have they had him?” “He was taken at least sixteen hours ago,” Cowley replied. “What makes you think he’s still alive?” asked Bodie. “If the Russians know he has the name of their man on the inside, they’ll kill him and everyone he might have told.” “Because they'll think he's a spy, and they'll want to interrogate him first,” said Cowley. “That should keep him alive... for a while, at least..Once they realise he's of no use to them, then they’ll kill him,” said Cowley. “We need to get him out of Afghanistan and safely back here before that happens.” “Yeah, so you can get the name of your mole,” said Bodie. “Look, I’ve been out of the game for a year, why me?” “...You were one of the best.” Standing on the Edge of Forever:Angelci5
	“If Verity is mine or yours—what if she’s not the only bastard either of us whelped?” “You’re a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, aren’t you?” Bodie wanted to slug something or kick the wall, none of which would do a bit of good. They had more important matters at stake namely Ruth in the hospital and assailants after them all. Coming to blows wouldn’t help. “Ray, one month later you were…” “Shot,” Doyle exhaled as if the single word had sucked the air out of his lungs. Much like the bullets had done. “And I wasn’t thinking of much else for a good while.” During those first few days when Doyle lay at death’s door, it was a wonder that Bodie had been able to think clearly at all. Not to mention run down the location of the woman who’d shot Doyle. His emotions had been all over the place, terror and anger mixed in equal portions with anguish. Just recalling early December of 1980 could still put him in a cold sweat. It occurred to him belatedly that his love for Raymond Doyle had started way back then—that the threesome with Ruth and the fourth forgettable girl had been the first taste of what he now craved. And he’d very possibly fathered a child. It was a lot to comprehend. Verity's One of Us:Dawnwind
	What if Bodie wasn’t in? He’d have to do all this again. What if he had a secretary at this posh place? He thought about that as his hands found the card, and the coins. She’d be blonde and gorgeous, he knew. He gritted his teeth as the dial rotated back around from the final number. There was a pause, then the ringing tone. Would he pick up? Would he know it was Doyle? Would he know what Doyle wanted, or would he have to spell it out? What if…? There was a click as the receiver was picked up. The pips rang out, and he fumbled his money into the slot with shaking fingers. A voice answered. ‘Bodie.’ ‘Hello, sunshine.....’ Half Past The Point Of No Return:Murphybabe
	“Shall we make conversation?” Bodie gestured discreetly towards the women. He wasn’t in the mood, to be honest, but it was Doyle’s night. Doyle shook his head. “Gone off birds,” he said. Doyle played it for a smile, but Bodie thought there was some truth behind it. It would take some time for Doyle to get over Kathie. “Ah, well.” Bodie looked around, hoping to amuse Doyle. “How about that fella, then?” He nodded towards a balding, paunchy man at the bar. Doyle rolled his eyes. “Not my type.” “Oh, you have a type?” “Haven’t we all?” Doyle gave him a sidelong look. Bodie’s stomach tightened as lust pierced through him. Thank God he had mastered the art of the poker face. “Oh, yeah?” Was Doyle unaware or playing, or....? What’s yours, then?” Fuck — unwise. “Oh, too dangerous,” Doyle murmured, as if he’d heard Bodie’s thoughts Condition of Employment:PFL
	Mr Bodie remembered the conversation he had engaged in with Mr Doyle while at the ball. Was it just last evening? Good Lord. Mr Doyle had said his chances were scuppered. That could mean so many varied things, possibilities were countless. It was only wishful dreaming on his part to believe that it meant the same as what he declared. Hellfire! He had said it out loud, quite blunt, in fact. The love that dare not speak its name. What was he thinking? Mr Doyle had been surprised, he remembered that clearly. It was a wonder that Mr Doyle hadn't thrashed him. Gentlemen just didn't speak of such oddities aloud. Even though he was loath to be called a gentleman, he knew that both he and Mr Doyle were of that ilk. They were not crass enough, even at their worst, to be anything less. Cowley's Inscrutable Five:KrisserCI5
	"I suppose you were in there to add to the capitalistic tendencies of the British shopper, were you?” Doyle’s face turned slightly red......“Nah, I was just looking for a birthday present.” Bodie was stunned. It was his birthday in a few weeks and Doyle almost got himself killed, buying him a pressie? Bodie had seen many gut-wrenching things in Africa and other parts of the world, but the spasm that hit his entrails at that moment threatened to send him to the loo. Fury crossed his handsome face. “You dumb crud, you took on five of the baddies, just to get a birthday present?” “Well, Justin’s birthday’s coming up soon, and I don’t get much time off.” Doyle stopped there as he saw the devastated look on Bodie’s face....When Hope Despairs:lbc

	He could still remember the smell of wet bracken, the stench of oil from the wrecked motorcycles, the pain in his shoulder and the taste of fear in his mouth as he had realised that he was alone, with a band of ruthless men about to spring their trap around him. Enrico Krivas... It would have been so much simpler if Bodie had killed him.... Cowley still did not know the reasons for the hatred between Krivas and one of his top operatives, but he did remember Bodie, his clothes torn and his skin bruised and streaked with blood, helping Doyle drag an unconscious Krivas to the waiting car, and the wolf's- head grin on his battered face as he said, "Resisted arrest, didn't he?" before flinging him into the rear seat. He remembered the trial, too, and Krivas' eyes never leaving Bodie's face, eyes black with the rage and hatred that never clouded his expression or his voice, eyes that promised death..... Tiger by the Tail:Lilian_Shepherd
	"Macklin says you are quite impressive in tumbling routines both on the ground and on the fixed trapeze." "Surely that doesn't surprise you?" Cowley drew a noncommittal face. "Perhaps it does. After all, it has been ten years since you worked with the circus.....Have you heard of Circus Sergei?" "No." "We have reason to believe that it is being used as a way station for IRA armaments and explosives." "Donal O'Shea......" "That's right. And although I would prefer not to send you into an operation that might involve him, I don't have another agent who has your abilities." "And which abilities," Doyle drawled inquiringly, "might those be?" "Aerial and equestrian......" Harlequin Airs:Ellis Ward
	Bodie. FuckinghellJesusfuckingChristnohe'sdead fuckinghellhe'sdeadnonono! Bodie. Alive? "No!" Thought came to an abrupt halt, his mind ceasing all operation as his entire world stopped dead. But... it had to be a mistake. It had to be. Had to be Bodie? His tortured lungs screamed for mercy and he heaved in an almighty breath. For long seconds, his heartbeat raced dangerously as his eyes stared at nothing at all. Willis had lied....... The Tangled Web:Jack Reuben Darcey
	Cowley leant forward so that his face was finally in the light. "Aye, that's it. Don't worry yourself about the warehouse. That all happened a while ago." "Yeah? How long?" "About four years ago." Doyle gave a derisive snort. "I suppose you'll be telling me you didn't suspend me either." "Not recently - despite the temptation. Not since your involvement with Miss Holly in fact." "Then what - ? Am I cracking up?" Doyle felt no more than an academic interest. "No. Just living in the past. You've a high-grade fever. You've been delirious. Memories are notoriously unreliable at such times...." "Rambling and all?" "Rambling and all," confirmed Cowley, his voice rich with reassurance. Doyle thought about it......"Well I'm buggered. I thought I felt odd...." Knife-Edge:hgdoghouse
	Bodie always knew Doyle was a wizard when it came to memory. He could remember license plates and badge numbers with nothing more than a glance. Remembered them for at least a month afterwards, too, as Bodie had found out the time he asked Ray to look up the plates of that red convertible again.....Doyle had rattled off the numbers, and Bodie stared at him..... Yes, when it came to numbers, Doyle had an excellent memory. Bodie had........wanted to test just how far Doyle’s memory went. He had a key to his partner’s place, and it was no trouble to sneak in one day.... Tests:Hutchynstarsk
	He walked into the bedroom and picked up the receiver, barking in a brisk “Hello?” waiting for the caller to identify themselves.... “Hello,” a male voice answered – a posh, businesslike tone. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings, Mr Bodie...” “I’m not...” Ray began, but not quickly enough, his reactions slowed as his mind tried to focus. “I’m one of the doctors at the James Cook Hospital in Teeside” the man continued, steam-rollering over the objection, “where I’m sorry to say your wife has just died.” Ray, holding the phone tightly to his ear, was aware of making the occasional vague assertive noise, probably indistinguishable from those of stunned grief, as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing. Words were coming through the phone, words that did not make sense... Bodie’s wife? This Week It Rained:Halotolerant
	"Funny times, those, in Africa," said Bodie thoughtfully. "The day of the white imperialist was over but there were men like Krivas, power- hungry, getting and keeping power over people, not territories...He was like a little dictator of his band, hand-picked men. They were good. They were very good...Tough men. All owned by Krivas. As I was." "Owned?" "Oh, Christ, yes. Contracted. He had absolute power over all of us. Disobedience, however slight, was punished with an iron hand. He wasn't a sadist, but he was a hard man. Did what he had to, to keep his authority over us." Doyle tried to imagine Bodie putting up with this sort of thing. He couldn't. Bodie was as independent a soul as any he'd met. "How'd you cope?" He asked....... "I thrived on it, Doyle. I chose it. I wanted it. Hell, this was Krivas." Krivas:Elizabeth Holden Roses and Lavender 1
	Someone had set up one of the ancient projectors, and dug out rolls of their old training films.......London, some time in the late seventies he thought, if those trousers were anything to go by - Christ, had he really worn flares that wide? Vague memories flooded through him, sights and sounds and even smells. Cowley'd blocked off two whole streets around some buildings that had been scheduled for demolition, had sent them off to stage an Operation Digger - a gang of ten or a dozen somewhere under street level..... "Watch out!" someone shouted at the screen, and the room burst into laughter, the unlucky sod - was it Kevin from Tactical? - pushed and shoved good-naturedly to and fro. From the corner of his eye Doyle saw what was happening on the film though, and his heart quickened in memory, in anticipation, in... something. Bodie was there, looking incredibly young, Bodie the way Doyle still saw him......Who Caught and Sang the Sun:Slantedlight
	He was deep into the pros and cons of the situation when he heard a voice call out, "Ray! Ray Doyle!" He turned to see a short man with shorter hair rapidly approaching. There was a grin on the face, so Doyle relaxed and waited. "What you doing here, old son?" "Seeing the sights," Doyle responded....He looked at the man carefully, and the stranger's brown eyes confirmed their harmlessness. "Haven't seen you in years. Not since the Met. You went to CI5, didn't you?" "Yeah." "Still there?" "Leave-of absence," explained Doyle. "Lucky dog. You don't look ill?" the man gently probed, seemingly unaware of the other's restrained manner.... "Healing," was how Doyle answered. If the man knew of CI5, he'd know the risk of asking questions which oughtn't be. Forgetting Doyle:Natasha Barry
	Seven years! Seven long years, and finally the first real lead that he'd had. He looked again at the grainy black and white newspaper photo. Was it him? Could it be? It had to be! It wasn't full-face, but even at an angle and with the hair so different...still some things don't change and some flaws stand out for anyone looking to see. His mind argued that it could just be a shadow but he knew that he had to see for himself. Good or bad he had to know for sure. Alone in the Wilderness:Elessar
	"Didn't mean to go and get kidnapped...Just wish I could remember what the hell happened, so I don't make the same mistake again." At those words, Bodie felt an ice-cold chill form in his gut. He didn't remember... "You don't know how you got captured?" "No." Doyle slowly shook his head. "Don't remember anything...there's this big blank spot...last thing I recall, we'd just finished up the Stanton op, and you and me walked out of HQ heading for your car. That's it. Everything else from that evening is gone......" Oh, Christ....Bodie closed his eyes for a moment, wishing this could all go away, wishing they could go back in time and start over. He didn't remember that night. Doyle didn't remember about the kiss--fucking hell. The last thing he wanted was to jog Doyle's memory for him.... Bodie took a deep breath and said carefully, "Well, we went to the Scarsdale Arms and had a pint....." "Doesn't ring any bells," Doyle said. If Memory Serves:Alexandra
	He'd been in this position before, of course: waiting to find out if Bodie was living or dead. But this time he couldn't help thinking about another summer night, another heat wave, another partner. Syd Parker had died on a night like this, shot down by a villain as PC Ray Doyle had waited downstairs.. Even all these years later, he could still remember hearing the first gunshot, could remember running up the stairs, truncheon clutched uselessly in his hand, heart pounding in his chest. He could remember bursting through that door and finding Syd's body, and Fitch's, in the flat. Could remember how gutted he'd felt, even as his training had taken over and he'd pursued Bill Haydon to his home. Syd's death had hurt Doyle, hurt him badly, but how much more would Bodie's death wound him? Syd had been a good partner, a mentor, a friend, but Bodie was everything to him: partner and friend; protector and responsibility. Lover. The Sweat of His Brow:PR Zed
	"Bodie, Doyle loves you." "I know, but he loves her, too." "That was in the past. Finished....." "Like you finished with Annie Irvin?" Cowley looked at him for a long moment, then nodded, conceding the point. "But that is different, lad...It took seeing her again, and even then it took quite awhile for me to understand, but it wasn't merely the woman I loved -- it was the times." "The times?" "Aye. I've devoted my life to serving my country, Bodie, and I have few regrets about that, but it also has made my years at university very precious.......The Annie Irvin that I loved was a time and a place as much as a woman. I cannot help but love that memory for the rest of my days, but the woman alone is not someone who I would want in my life now." Faces from the Past:Annehiggins
	"What the hell are you on about?" Christ. It had simply never occurred to Doyle that Bodie might genuinely not remember what had happened. That he wasn't pretending... "Had a bit of a snog. You really don't remember?" Bodie's eyes widened. "You kissed me? Have you gone bloody bent on me?" Nonchalance flew out the window. "Wasn't one-sided, mate! You kissed me back!" "The hell I did." Doyle gave him a long, hard look. "I wouldn't have wanted to talk about it if it had been one-sided." Bodie stared back, features set, unreadable......"Was drunk, wasn't I? Must've been confused, thought you were a bird." "No." Doyle refused to let it go. "You said my name....." On a Hot Summer Night:Alexandra
	...try as he might...he could not forget the night he had spent making love to Doyle. If you could call it that. More a night of crazed, delirious lust than love, fucking each other's brains out.... He couldn't quite remember how it began, he would have sworn he was too drunk to even get it up, much less... Wrong again, sunshine. Even now his memory was a bit spotty. He just remembered the violent intensity of it. Doyle had grinned rather sheepishly at him in the morning, bleary-eyed and hungover. Bodie grinned back, acknowledging the absurdity, and their eyes locked in a silent pact never to speak of the incident. Life went on as before. But Bodie kept thinking about it....... Sanctuary:Thomas
	“OK, sir, you’ve done well to hold out this long but let’s hit the nail on the head shall we?” Doyle tried to look blank. “You’ve no idea who you are, have you?” Doyle sighed. The man was right. He couldn’t get away with it forever. He just shrugged apologetically. “There’ll be something in my pocket won’t there?” Doyle suggested hopefully. “Unfortunately, when you were found, you’d been robbed. Not only your pocket contents but the thief or thieves also took your jacket and shoes. We’ve been treating you for mild hypothermia as well as a hairline skull fracture.” “How long have I been here?” “Nearly a week now.” Doyle was shocked. He’d only been awake and taking notice for a couple of days. “And you still don’t know who I am?” The doctor started to shake his head apologetically when Doyle continued, “So there hasn’t been an army of concerned friends and relatives hammering on your door or pestering the police about a missing person, then?” It certainly didn’t make Doyle feel good about himself. Borderland:Sylvie Orp
	He did feel marginally better, though. He found he could sit up, make it to the bath, and splash water over his face. He saw the blood crusted on his forehead and wondered vaguely what had happened. The headache was at least bearable now, not as painful as his side at least. Although he couldn't remember his head hurting quite this badly -- He stopped abruptly...... What was the thought he'd just had? He couldn't remember a headache this bad ... He couldn't remember a ... Christ, he couldn't remember. Shaking, he leaned against the wash basin, panic inching in. Couldn't remember. Couldn't remember..... Forget That I Remember, and Dream That I Forget:Pamela Rose
	The men fell silent. Foster. Williams. Ram…Ramsey. They were just names. He couldn't put faces to them. He had no feelings about them. He tried to think back to the warehouse but his mind skittered away, out of control. It was presenting him with images he couldn't interpret. He was breathing too fast. It wasn't safe to panic—had to slow it down. Stay cool. There was a sudden voice in his head—an echo he couldn't identify. Yet it helped. Calm down. Think. Go back. He was…. He was…. Oh, Christ. He didn't know his own name. He — Ray? He clamped his mouth shut...The driver, Williams, had called him Ray. Ray. He was Ray. He was in...London. He knew that. He was…was…. Everything else was a blank. Fuck, fuck. Oh, God. Stay cool. He took in a deep breath...... He opened his mouth to ask them—maybe they'd help— But then he swallowed his words, and stared ahead...Maybe he had known these men, but he didn't remember them. He couldn't trust them. Lines:PFL
	“Wasn’t expecting that,” Bodie said.... “She was called Mary,” Ray said quietly.....“His wife died of pneumonia when he was in Spain in the Thirties, Mary went to his parents but died too before he got back. He never saw her.” Bodie took the photograph, the thin woman and the baby in black and white, staring out at posterity without any evident expectation. “I didn’t know.” His voice had lowered, his posture loosened. His lips still looked like they always had, dejected even when he was happy...... “Didn’t know Cowley well at all. But he left me all this stuff, personal stuff, I don’t...I don’t understand.” Unexpected:Halotolerant
	Him, him, him, his heart sang, and pounded against his chest. Doyle. He’d found him, this was where he lived. Bodie’s heart lurched at the thought..... God, it was Doyle. He didn’t look any different, at least not from this distance...Perhaps it would show in his face, in his eyes, but his walk was just as strong, just as easy as ever. His shoulders too - he’d always had that way of moving as though everything was connected in just the right way, each muscle, each tendon flowing smoothly, in perfect time, with the next. As though everyone else had just been practicing the way to move, but he, Raymond Doyle, was the one who’d got it right. These Layers of Charnel Air:Slantedlight
	“You think I kissed you because Ann threw me over?” I kissed you. Until that moment he’d forgotten about the kiss. Blanked it out completely. Total amnesia like in a bad spy film. And how could that be because that kiss -- for one instant -- had rocked his world. That press of Doyle’s mouth on his, Doyle’s mouth cool and soft and tasting of lager and something intimately and intrinsically Doyle. Not shy exactly....but tentative. Hopeful maybe? But trusting too. Doyle confident he wasn’t going to be handed his teeth back like so many marbles in a game he’d lost. Because of course Doyle knew -- knew his kisses would -- should -- be welcome here. But Bodie inexplicably, after the first delighted shock of response, had astonished them both by rejecting Doyle. The Wish I Wish Tonight:JGL
	The room had only a single occupant who must obviously be Doyle. The man was standing by an open window......A light breeze carried in the sounds of the street below and from his viewpoint in the doorway all that Bodie could see was a slim figure in well-worn jeans with a head of brown curls. The bright Spring sunshine reflected on gently blowing curls and Bodie caught his breath as an image from another lifetime washed through him. ...a chestnut halo...the face of an angel... All at once he was transported back as memories crowded his mind. He could feel the heat of the African night, hear the sounds of the chirruping insects in the bush and taste the warm, wet tongue of the man who had, for a few short hours, made him feel complete..... Bodie whispered, "Ray?" The man at the window swung around..... The Missing Piece:Cassidy Collins

	As he crossed the hallway, Doyle, in the sitting room, looked up from the magazine he’d found to read. That was all he did. He looked at Bodie. Just looked, his expression enigmatic. Bodie in turn stopped, and returned stare for stare, looking right into those remarkable green eyes. Eyes like none he had ever seen. The whole world was in those eyes....... Caught up in the velvet green stare, he found his breath short, his mind short-circuited, his heart melting and his cock stirring. Dangerous, this. Forever True:Fajrdrako (Elizabeth Holden)
	....why was Ray glaring at him like an angry tiger? "Ray?" he said. "Yeah?" Doyle's gaze was uncommonly direct. Huge green eyes hypnotized, if you let them. Eyebrows were knit, eyes inimical. "Still up to the party after?" "What party?" "It's New Year's Eve. You forget?" Ray blinked...."Bloody hell. Is it still?" He hesitated. "You want to go?" Simple words. But as he said them, he looked again at Bodie, and Bodie realized that the tiger wasn't angry. The tiger was hungry. Doyle scowled at him with a voracious stare that devoured him and melted his bones, made his soul ache, made his mind focus into trembling awareness. The Best:Elizabeth Holden/fajrdrako
	....suddenly Bodie's head lifted and he gazed straight into the mirror and then rapidly scanned the entire room. Doyle held his breath, expecting and wanting those seeking eyes to find him. But they didn't. Instead, a closed look came about them, a blankness of expression, accompanied by the swift jerking of the throat as Bodie swallowed.... as he moved, Bodie's expression changed, and he swept the room again, his eyes comprehensively searching each face and figure.... Rooted to the spot, Doyle observed sudden awareness on the goodlooking face as the dark gaze locked with someone out of his vision. Doyle watched, heart sinking, as the eyes began an absorbed survey of whoever had caught their interest; they moved very slowly, very clearly over a body, lingering a little here and there on the way down.Through a Glass Darkly:ET & Rob
	"It's just like you to abandon the one who brought you," Doyle said in that way Bodie could never quite decipher. Was Ray camping it up or flirting with him? Was there necessarily any difference in the end? "Oh don't be that way," Bodie said, playing along regardless. "You know you'll always have my heart." Doyle seemed to study Bodie, his expression strangely wistful. "Is that all?" "It's all I have to give you, petal," Bodie said, still unsure of his partner's intention, and strangely flustered by his regard......"You're not interested in my lovely body, after all...." Doyle looked at him for a beat longer....It was as if, during that brief moment, he had made a conscious decision to follow Bodie's lead. The odd undercurrent that had been there only seconds before vanished. May Fair:Ancasta
	Doyle turned.....and Bodie watched his hair change colour as the sun drifted in and out of clouds, and the patterns of moving water rippling across the green of his eyes; and into his mind came the thought, curiously exact and complete: I’m going to fall in love with you. And you won’t fight. Et In Italia Ego: Sebastian
	He looked at Bodie and Nicole, entwined.... Does he look like that with me? Doyle wasn’t sure he wanted to think so. As he watched, Bodie’s fingers ran round to her back.....As he did this, he lifted his head and faced Doyle, watching him now over her shoulders. He tilted his head, indicating to him. Come on. Doyle remained where he was. He could get through this – perhaps – if they kept away from each other. He could admire Bodie from a distance. He could watch. He could watch him with a girl, he realised. Just couldn’t share. Didn’t want to expose the two of them to another’s gaze, even if she didn’t know what she was privy to. Didn’t want to be inches from his body and unable to touch it, to run his fingers and palms over that skin........ Paper Chase:MLMead
	....he had thought he knew his partner well enough to be able to pick up on the smallest signals. But this time Bodie was giving nothing away. They stood face to face, neither speaking, the tension building palpably between them. At last Bodie broke the silence. "So. Maybe you'd like to explain to me what the hell you thought you were playing at?" Doyle felt his temper rising, curbed it with an effort. He'd give Bodie that one. He took a few steps towards his partner.... "Look, you're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gone off like that. It was a spur of the moment thing. And we were meant to be maintaining radio silence anyway." The façade cracked, eyes first. Irrelevantly, and not for the first time, Doyle marvelled at how such an icy blue could project such fire. "Don't give me that," Bodie snarled... Resolution:Bistokids
	Bodie stared. Arms twined around arms, and legs woven together, muscles straining, mouths reaching for mouths, and moans loud as fire. It was all there in black and white. It was grainy, and it was shadowed, and it was unmistakably them. He didn't know whether to be glad he had copies or whether to cry. "Jesus…" "Yeah......." They confirmed one thing. He would never give Doyle up. They were too right together. Even extortion made them look good. If There Be Vampires and Werewolves:Slantedlight
	Bodie would never admit it to anyone, but he liked Doyle and the way he moved. Fluid and fast, or swaggering and slow, danger incarnate or supple and ethereal.... At times, Bodie rather wished they had got off on a better footing. The man was far more interesting than he had at first assumed. Too light-framed to be a good fighter, he nevertheless was..... Doyle was a mystery. He needed figuring out. Voyages of the CI5:Hutchynstarsk
	He woke abruptly, his eyes opening to the thin light of morning, and to Bodie's own gaze, blue and unwavering... "You held my hand in hospital," he said huskily, his dreams still sweeping through him, this one and that one gliding together until they became a single memory, a single piece of now.... "Physical contact's supposed to be good for..." "What about kissing me? Was that just physical contact too?" It was strange, seeing it all together like this, a single solid line to this moment that was so clear, so pure and clear that he couldn't imagine ever having not known. "And that time when the roof fell in... you brought me a torch?" Bodie's lips twisted in a half-smile at that. "No..." He remembered. "You brought me the moon." Discovered Out Of Context:Slantedlight
	"And you fucked him." Bodie tensed. "What makes you think that?" "You'd have done it today. And you told me five minutes ago that you thought you were back there. Seems to indicate that you'd done it before, doesn't it?" "Twice." "What about other people?" "Yeah, I've played the Game with other people. But not like that....." Doyle stared at him, a look on his face as though he'd never seen Bodie before. Bodie felt a lump of ice form in his gut as the silence stretched out and lengthened....he imagined that if he broke eye contact now, Doyle would never forgive him.... "You know something?" Doyle said at length. "Something really stupid? I was in love with you. Real, absolute 'til death do us part' love..." Bodie realised that he was staring at Doyle... A Few Little Fireworks:Madmogs
	He managed to suspend all thought for some time, staring mindlessly at the house opposite, watching lights go on and off, allowing him to track their movements to some extent, and providing reassurance that they hadn't slipped out the back door.....Then, without warning, he found himself remembering the sight of Ray kneeling before him, Ray sucking him. It was a compelling memory, one he knew he would never be able to forget. The sort that replays itself over and over, whether you want it to or not..... A movement outside and his mind was back on the job. The front door of the house opposite was opening. A man emerged carrying two large holdalls and took them up to a car parked near the house....None So Blind:awarrington
	He paused a moment when he noticed his nose was about 2 inches from Bodie’s left knee. There was a spot of raspberry jam on his corduroys, and Ray had an inexplicable urge to lick it. More to the point, to lick Bodie. Startled, Ray looked up to see Bodie staring down at him, his expression ruthlessly neutral, except for his eyes....His eyes made Ray ache in his throat and in his cock. “Got it bad, huh, Sunshine,” Ray murmured as he slid one hand up Bodie’s thigh, then gripped the muscular leg. He noted almost clinically that his partner was hard. Constricted in those tight cords, it couldn’t be comfortable. He moved his hand over and stroked the bulge gently, soothing the ache. Enfilade-Defilade:Bistokidsfan
	Trudging back up the hill behind Bodie, he wondered if staying in CI5 were really worth the effort. He looked up and saw Bodie pause, his dark form creating an even darker silhouette against the night sky. Doyle's breath caught in his chest as he took the image in--Bodie framed by the night, his hair offset by his face, both ringed in starlight. This is the world I live in--Bodie and CI5. To have one, he'd have to conform to the other. Then he saw Bodie's eyes turn to look down on him--and felt fear wash through him again.... The Two Trees:Morgan Dawn
	I knew he was do-able the first time I set eyes on him...... I started to catch myself watching him. We'd be out on an obbo somewhere, stuck in some poor sod's bedroom or jammed into the Transit and I wouldn't be watching out for the madman of the week - I'd be watching him. His hands on the binoculars, the flash of white nape over his collar as he bent his head. And his mouth, always his mouth. I started to dream about that mouth. This went on for what seemed like ages and then, about six months ago, it all came to a head.... Watching His Mouth:Georgina Kirrin
	Doyle leant forward to say goodbye....and Bodie was suddenly, acutely and rather uncomfortably, aware of his partner. It was no wonder the ladies swooned over him - it wasn’t that he was classically handsome; his good looks were rough, and imperfect, from his messed-up brown curls to his big, intense eyes, his flawed but engaging smile; from the slim yet muscular arms and torso, the narrow waist and hips, the almost feminine curve of his lower back and the exquisite little backside that Bodie had always envied, to the long, slim legs and the size nine feet fetchingly clad in brown leather. The way he was leaning just then, turned slightly sideways, accentuated everything that was good about Ray Doyle’s looks. In fact, if Doyle had been a woman, Bodie would have sworn that pose was flirtatious: an unmistakeable come-hither look. In The Interest of Bodie and Doyle:SBN3745
	Bodie watches him. He is interested now. He has given Doyle one tiny push, and it is as if he has pulled the tail of a friendly but high-tempered Siamese cat. The creature is alert, fur rising. Ready to give him the benefit of the doubt for now, or to take his throat out in one swipe if he repeat-offends... Just a Stepney beat-copper, he reminds himself. No good. He lets his gaze settle on the damaged left cheekbone, the place where it looks as if he's been smashed and reconstructed. "Doesn't that ever bother you?" Doyle lifts an eyebrow. He pauses for a moment……and lets his own gaze focus on a point just over Bodie's right shoulder. "Not any more. Doesn't that bother you......that bloody great chip? Must weigh a ton." Painted Angels:Angelfish
	Doyle had been in the room when Bodie had been introduced to Neave’s six man cell. Not by so much as the flick of an eyelash did he indicate he’d ever laid eyes on Bodie before. Well, fair enough. It was as much as both their lives were worth, but Bodie was used to knowing Doyle’s thoughts whether they spoke or not. He couldn’t read this Doyle at all......When Doyle had spoken in that soft lilting voice about the bombs they would plant and the death and destruction they would bring, a chill had slithered down Bodie’s spine. When Doyle’s eyes had met his, they’d been hard and green as any emerald on any isle. It was at that point the treacherous thought had entered Bodie’s head that perhaps Doyle had cut it a bit close deliberately. A terrible, treacherous thought..... Home for the Holidays:JGL
	"Let's wait a bit, see what they do next...." Doyle fell silent and stared in shock as two of the men dropped to their knees in front of the other two and engulfed their swollen erections in their mouths. "Fuck," he muttered. "Be good if they did," Bodie murmured. "What? Bodie!" "Think about it, Ray........ If they're fucking each other, they're not raping her...." Almost unblinkingly they both stared at the men, watching as the two on the ground sucked the two standing; watched the two standing throw back their heads and cry out in pleasure. The chanting had stopped, but the frenzy of almost inarticulate cries filled the air.... "On three," Bodie whispered....... Keeping Watch:Darby Brennan
	Small squares of light betrayed the flats rising into the sky, but apart from that, it was as if he and Doyle were the only two people in the world. He glanced at him, enjoying the reassurance of being together in this intimate little world (and).....eyed him speculatively, with a sudden quiet reflection. They'd shared a few confessions over the years, a couple of things that had made eyebrows rise before sheepish laugher took over, and both had gained a shrewd appreciation that Cowley knew a lot more about the men he partnered then he'd ever let on. Not that he or Doyle had acted upon anything they had learnt...yet. A Stirring of Soup:Magenta Blue
	...I fixed him with a stare. “What are you up to?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady when in fact my insides were shaking like a leaf. His eyes were boring into my face. “Are you as thick as you look or what?” he replied. As soon as I looked at him I had no doubt as to what was on his mind. How many times had I seen that expression on his face, though never directed at me I must admit. I could read him like a book. He wanted me, preferably within the next five minutes judging by the intensity of his gaze. I was probably opening and closing my mouth like a fish by this time. I certainly couldn’t think of any smart-arse reply.....I’ve never felt my knees turn to jelly efore.....Awakening:Sally Fell
	And when he looked at Doyle’s face...he didn’t like what he saw....he just wasn’t Doyle. Certainly he’d gone far undercover before—as he said, he was damn good—but this...he looked like he wasn’t home at all, just an emotionless shell going through the motions. His body was there, but his mind... wasn’t. His face tilted a little towards the light and Bodie caught a glimpse of his eyes. Even from this distance, he could see the cold, flat stare of them, the way he had shut himself inside. Bodie didn’t like that, not one bit. Worry tickled his gut. Doyle could be the most expressive bloke ever. When he shut down like that — completely shut down, so no emotion reached his face or his eyes whatsoever — something was wrong. No Dreams:Hutchynstarsk
	The photograph was old, and bent at the corners. Black and white, it still blazed off the paper, a brilliant moment captured in time. Two boys, caught in the sunlight. One was Doyle, face perfect, angelic in its purity..... Doyle’s hand was shaking again. Bodie looked at him. The contrast in the face before him and the face in the picture was strong. Doyle – his Doyle – looked hungry, bitter and old. He didn’t know what to say, what questions to ask that would unlock the deep unhappiness in front of him. “Who is he?” Memory:Murphybabe

	"Why did you go with him?" For a minute he didn't say anything. Then, so low I almost missed it.... "He made me feel special. Like I was the most beautiful person in the world. He touched me as if I was made of something precious and he looked at me as if he had never seen anything like me in all the world.....I used to laugh at those romantic films when the women in them acted like I'm acting now. I used to think nobody could be that stupid. I always used to sit there thinking `Get over it'. I don't think I'll laugh at them anymore. Anyway, after about five weeks, he started to act as if having me around all the time was a drag on him. Finally, I asked him if he was tired of me and he said no. But then he said he was leaving and he wouldn't be able to see me anymore.... He told me he was leaving at the end of the week. When I went back the next day he was gone." The Protector:Diva
	"Suppose you fall in love one day?" Patricia had asked him. He had been so sure of the answer. He had thought it impossible. And here he was, already in love. He should have said, "It has happened already. I love a man I am already tied to with more ties than marriage, to whom I owe more than I could owe any woman." He should have said, "Your question is too late." He should have said, "My heart was damaged, so I never saw what was happening to it. I forgot what love can be...." "Have you gone off me?" She asked it so matter-of-factly...."Jennifer -- don't think that. It isn't you." "Is there someone else, then?" He shook his head, but she didn't believe the denial. He didn't know how to explain. Midnight Clear: Amy M.Morgan
	"I love you," he said, very quietly. He knew - oh he knew so well it was the wrong time, the bittersweetness of that singing defeat through his blood, but he had to say it..... "Don't give me that, Bodie." Bodie stayed silent in his own pain, accepting the failure...... "Look, I'm not sayin' it's over with us, with you and me, but tonight--" His voice caught again, but he didn't heed it, battled on, "It's her I want, I know I can't have her but that's how it is tonight, and I'd be better alone, honest, Bodie." He tried to smile, to make it all better. "I'm not in the mood, mate. Go out and pick up some bird from the pub, eh, you can tell me all about it in the morning?" The knife slid under skin and twisted. "You make me so angry sometimes," said Bodie in a low voice.... Hyperion to a Satyr:Sebastian
	His partner was lying there, stretched out on the sofa, engrossed in a paperback, and genuinely unconcerned it seemed, that Bodie was packing to leave for all of four days. And Bodie knew all too well how differently Doyle's departure would have affected him... Yet the hurt of that difference was almost familiar to him now, and he wandered over to the sofa to sit... couldn't stop trying, could he? "...Just thought, since I'm leaving an' all....Thought maybe you'd want to spend some time....you know...." he finished weakly. He looked away, and heard Doyle sigh deeply. "You're just goin' away for four fuckin' days, Bodie. Not joining the Foreign Legion." Bodie looked down at his lap, wounded again. Scenes From the Edge:Kate Maclean
	Why don't we get some nosh and go to one of our flats?" He kept his voice carefully neutral, not daring to inject a note of hopefulness, unwilling to risk pushing Bodie away by pushing too hard. But oh, how he wanted Bodie in his bed tonight. And every night. He waited. Bodie took a long time replying. "Nah...I've got plans for later." "Oh." Doyle tried hard not to let the ache of disappointment show. "Date?" "Yeah. Air hostess...." "Is that right?" Doyle hadn't heard him mention any birds lately. "A looker, is she?" "You know any air hostesses who aren't?" Doyle didn't reply..... Love in a Faithless Country:Alexandra
	God, what an idiot he truly was. Of course he loved Ray Doyle, he always had. It didn’t take a carving or a spell to make that happen, it was as natural as night follows day. It had taken a spell to make him see it clearly though, realise how much the man meant to him. And now he’d spent the last week pissing the love of his life off. No wonder Doyle had preferred Stuart’s company. He could put it right though, he could tell Ray how he felt, take the chance. He’d risk a bollocking by his partner, or worse, if Ray took exception to his romantic interest. But now the momentum of his feelings had started he couldn’t stop them, he had to do something about it, even if it meant Ray despising him for it. He could live with unrequited love and Ray’s ratty temper, but he couldn’t live with not knowing. The Spell: Fictionwriter
	"Did you hear what I said?" "I heard." There was an awkward silence. "You could at least congratulate me." "Yeah, sorry, it's just... it's a bit of shock, coming from you." He swallowed. "Things change," Bodie said......Shock, disbelief, any amount of teasing, these he had expected. Not the moment of devastation he had glimpsed. What was the matter with Doyle, you'd think Bodie had announced his funeral instead of his wedding.... "Yeah," Doyle mumbled. "Things do change." Chalk and Cheese: Thomas
	"I suppose I should be glad I found him sleeping on the sofa instead of....." she began bitterly, before biting off what she had been going to say. Doyle flushed and looked away, frowning, well aware of what she'd meant to say, but bewildered she should have been on the point of stating it so openly. Was it really possible that other people, Ann included, saw something there between Bodie and himself even they themselves wouldn't admit to, and certainly weren't consciously revealing...It wasn't a topic he felt capable of discussing with her, so he moved on to, what for him, was slightly safer ground, and said, "Christ, I can't believe I didn't see how much you two dislike each other." "Oh, Ray, you're so naive," she said, exasperated with him, "why shouldn't we dislike each other? We're rivals, aren't we?" Denoument:LH
	He didn't want to listen, but Bodie was only about three feet away from him, he could even hear the phone ringing at the other end, then a woman's voice came on. Christ. He's phoning her in front of me, Doyle thought. He's not even trying to be discreet. Doyle was determined not to let Bodie see how much this was upsetting him... He really didn't want to hear, but it was impossible not to. Bodie was talking softly now. "Hallo, love, it's Phil. Look, I'm sorry, but I've been called into work...Looks like it's going to be an all night thing so I'll get back to you when I can, O.K....." Who the hell was this woman Bodie introduced himself to as 'Phil'? He'd never heard anyone call Bodie anything other than Bodie - and get away with it. He was Bodie. Just Bodie... Question Time:Rob
	Anger shot through him, like an arrow coldly flensed with steel; anger at Doyle's blatant exhibitionism - for he knew all too well Doyle did it out of a very calculated purpose indeed - and anger at his own helpless desire, the shaming lust that led him, every bloody time they played one of these very private little games instigated by Doyle, to gorge his eyes on Ray while he had the chance, greedily feeding on the sight of him, stashing impressions away in his memory with indecent haste, piling small detail on small detail, to be brought out at leisure, and alone... ... but even anger could do nothing to quell the growing, insistent excitement as he watched Ray undress, the intensely heightened sexual awareness, the tense alertness of anticipation... Siren:Sebastian
	With an irritated sigh, Doyle chanced a glance backwards. From Bodie's stance, Doyle knew that he had been hurt by Doyle's dismissal of his offer of comfort. He also knew that Bodie wouldn't say a word about it. Bodie would let him off. As usual. The power he knew he had over his partner gave him a great deal of satisfaction, and for a moment, he actually wanted to bask in that power.......(He) shook his head in exasperation as he considered how much longer he was going to continue to hurt his partner, his best friend.... Learning Curve:LilyK
	Bodie gave him a wry smile as he slid into the car and slammed the door. "Ivan the Terrible seems to have taken quite a shine to you." At first Ray protested innocence. 'What are you talking about?" "Come on, you're not blind. And even if you were, you don't have to be clairvoyant. He's getting quite attached to you." "Yeah, I've noticed," Ray growled. "What d'you reckon it is?" "A crush. Infatuation......It'll probably wear off, don't worry. It's the stranger-in-a-strange-land thing. Doesn't matter much." "He doesn't look gay, " Ray mused. "Bisexual, I suppose. I mean he looks as normal as you....." Andante:Jane"
	Ray. Ray, damn his green eyes. His sea-green, smiling eyes. Only they hadn't been smiling today. He wished that it had been a day off for both of them. He could have taken Ray away for the day. Fishing, hiking, somewhere.. He could have taken Doyle with him, showed him at least one of the secret places. One of the cars, maybe. Or the marvellous collection he kept in Mrs D's attic. But no. He would not show Ray the foxholes he'd made. He would no more show Ray the Uzi in the boot of his old car than he'd show him the lust that burned in his gut for his partner....Could say it. Could say, I love you. But that thought frightened Bodie as much as it would distress Doyle. Love? Course it wasn't love. Couldn't be. Wasn't anything like love. Just lust. Secrets:DVS
	Doyle used to get angry about how hurt he felt that Bodie would never show anything more than pure, straightforward lust. Why should he care so much when his mate clearly didn’t give a flying fuck? .....Because the idea of it - the smallest wisp of possibility that Bodie felt at all that thing that Doyle struggled with every day - was truly intoxicating. Doyle could never not hope for a thing like that. For Bodie to worry and wonder, for him to long for him, for him to want to kiss his face off in pure joy and pleasure in his company and punch his lights out for being a complete arsehole, all at the same time. Because that’s what Bodie did to him. And the fact that he meant nothing to Bodie, himself, was unbearable. And it felt like a kiss: Ailcia
	Bodie would come to him tonight, or maybe tomorrow night. He always came after an op gone bad. The need for release was well-understood by them both: a celebration of victory snatched from death. Those nights when passion and violence ruled, albeit tempered by an undeniable, and unexpected, tenderness....It was these moments, these nights, when he understood what it was he gave to Bodie that his partner never could. When he knew the odd threesome they created was a viable entity. Yet, he had never cared--or dared--to explore the hidden emotions roiling within his lover where Doyle was concerned. That, the one topic they never spoke of. Chances Change:PFL
	I was just fooling around, and Bodie...Bodie was not. I could see it in his eyes when he kissed me the first time. I could feel it every time we touched. And yet I couldn't stop myself. I'd always wanted what was on offer tonight, and altered conditions, like making love instead of fucking, seemed a minor change. I easily got him back on the right track, too. I kissed him to shut him up, to deflect any word he was going to say. Didn't work though. No matter how I touched and caressed his body, his eyes always sought mine and silently conveyed a promise.. Bodie's in love. With me. And I used that...... Bodie cares too much. Too damn much. Maybe even too much to accept that I won't change... I never meant for all of this to become so complicated..... It shouldn't hurt so much not to love somebody. Altruism:Hermine
	"Keller died about 15 minutes ago. Major Nairn called." Shocked, Bodie closed his eyes, inwardly cursing Keller. They weren't partners anymore; Keller shouldn't have sacrificed himself. Guilt savaged Bodie, piercing his armored emotions, as he faced the truth. Keller's real motive for saving him was a love that Bodie had never been able to return. Shame flooded him, remembering he'd been tempted to bed Keller for old times, at least until he'd known about the girl. Guilt compounded by shame caused him to reach for his protective shell of anger, but it wasn't to be found tonight. Lately, he'd had too much reason to feel empathy with all those suffering from unrequited love. An Exercise in Futility:Madeleine Lee
	"Just wanted to say sorry....for screwing up the team, sir. If I hadn't gotten involved..." He trailed off as Cowley met his gaze at last....eyes tired and yet, suddenly mesmerising in their honesty. "I've never encountered anyone less suited to remaining uninvolved, Bodie. For all that hard man front of yours, it was only a matter of time before you gave your... loyalty completely." Bodie stared mute into the pain in those dark eyes. "You chose Doyle." It was a simple statement, it said nothing really, and yet Bodie stood there stunned, hypnotised by that pain. Not Cowley, he thought vaguely. Not Cowley..... Choosing:Kate Maclean
	"What do you want from me, Bodie..?" "Doesn't matter now. Never did, I suppose. A bit of yourself, maybe. A bit of you that was only for me, that only I could reach...But you're too democratic for that, aren't you? Treat everyone the same; chance acquaintances, total strangers, even snitches and the occasional villain can catch at that overworked conscience of yours...You capitalise on your assets. Parcel it out special, don't you? Dependin' on what you get back." "No." Doyle's denial sounded weak to his own ears... "Maybe that's it. Maybe I've just never been able to figure you out. Nobody really owns a cat, do they?" Totally lost now, Doyle just stared at him...Bodie shrugged, "It's okay, Ray. Don't go off on a guilt trip. You can't help what you are. I've never blamed you... My fault, being such a pushover. Mush inside where you're concerned. Poison Apples:Pamela Rose
	Bodie picked up the letter and walked across the room, unable to bear keeping still as he read it, with its smudged ink, its multiple crossings-out and corrections. It looked like Doyle had either been very drunk or very upset when he wrote it: perhaps both....He saw the words ‘I love you,’ written twice. He saw the sense of hopelessness: Doyle had expected nothing in return for this.... it had needed to be said because heaven and hell were both better than limbo. It was a reality that had to be faced up to. The tragedy was that neither of them had realised they were living in the same reality until it was too late. But the worst part of all for Bodie, was the end of the letter: the words 'Your Ray,' albeit crossed out... but he'd thought it; he'd written it....mine all along, and I didn't..... The Letter Doyle Never Sent:Maddalia: Proslib CD
	"She thinks we're fucking, does she?....Very - interestin', that. Or is it more of a - a spiritual kind of love?" "Oh, an unrequited love....." "I get it. You're in love with me but I'm keeping you at arm's length?" "Well, that's about it. Except I got the feeling she thinks maybe you give me one every so often just to let me know what I'm missing....You called me up just one too many times, sunshine." "I must have done," Doyle marvelled........"So I grant you a kind of mercy fuck, every so often, do I?" "She's not sure. She'd rather not think about it." Bodie shuddered, delicately. "She's probably not too sure of the gory details, anyway. Most likely she thinks gay love means two blokes dressing up in women's undies and reading Oscar Wilde out loud." Vivamus, Amemus:Sebastian
	"Is she married or dead or...something?" "....No, it's nothing like that. People care about people in different ways. If they care at all. Sometimes you can... love a person and know they can't love you the same way. You settle for what you can get." Doyle snapped back as he realized that Bodie was answering his question. "But if you never told her how you feel, how do you know she'd be turned off? Maybe she feels the same--" "No. It's impossible." His voice was uncharacteristically wistful. Impossible. Now that was a word Doyle rarely, if ever, associated with Bodie.... Rebound:Courtney Gray
	"How can you leave everything like this?" "What everything? All I have is the job. I have no family here." It hurt to say that, but he wanted Doyle to understand the ties that held him here were precarious at best. Five years of deep friendship were important, but he could not base the rest of his life on it. Someday, Doyle would marry and then where would he be? "What about me?" Bodie frowned, trust Doyle to cut to the chase without even knowing he was doing it. All he could do was tell the truth. "You don't keep me warm at night, sunshine......" Love's The Last to Know:Meridian
	Physically, he was recovering, his body well-mended, and the misery was now simply something he lived with, something he accepted the way he accepted that he’d heard nothing from Ray. As Doyle had said, silence spoke louder than words, and if that was the way it was going to be, then fine, he could cope with that....one thing he was not going to do was hang around gazing at Doyle, pining away from unrequited love, wanting to die of unhappiness every time his partner had a new girlfriend. No, he’d walk before he let himself sink so low. But then a voice would whisper: easy to say now, when you can’t even see him...... Christ, but he missed Doyle..... Wish I Wasn't Here:M Fae Glasgow
	"Aren't you going to congratulate me, Bodie?" Her breath ghosted over his cheek, smelling of sweet wine. Bodie stiffened. "And why would I do that?" "I won our little game. That deserves congratulations, don't you think? Ray's mine now and you can't do anything about it." Something wound tight snapped inside Bodie. He twisted his hand, capturing her wrist between his fingers, thumb pressing into the palm. Steadily he piled on the pressure, watching her face as the pain grew....her arrogance finally slipped, revealing, for a moment, the frightened girl inside. "On the contrary, my sweet. I'm merely allowing you to borrow Ray for a while. Do remember to return him in the same condition that you got him in when you get bored, won't you?" Something Borrowed:Andromeda

	He stared at the ceiling and thought about the look he sometimes caught in Bodie's eyes, and the way Bodie smelled, and what Bodie's thigh felt like pressed between his. He closed his eyes, slipped his hand into his pants, and remembered being nineteen and kissing a man. He remembered Bodie pratting around and grabbing his arse. He remembered the sight of Bodie's nipple hardening because of his touch. He stroked himself and hated Jackie - not for being with Bodie, but for being who and what he was. Doyle couldn't even indulge himself with the one man who meant so much to him, and yet Jackie could be an agent respected by Cowley even while he paraded around flaunting his perversions. Much Ado About Nothing:SnarkyLlama
	He couldn't very well tell Bodie he was attracted to him without understanding what he felt. So he had waited. Little by little, he had more insight. When one day Bodie brought his car to a screeching halt .....and had grinned at him through the open window, Doyle had felt a surge of lust that made him want to leap into the car. And with it had come other thoughts: had Bodie been battling such urges? Was that kiss in the flat just the last, irresistible vestige of weeks or months of unsatisfied desire? He did not know, but he knew that his response to Bodie was growing from fondness to fascination. It was becoming intensely physical, so that thinking about him gave him a rush that was sometimes overwhelming. Fantasies that he never would have considered before filled his head. Sexual impulses centered on Bodie, irresistibly and enticingly. He wanted more. Algiers:Fajrdrako
	...there was a connection between them, an almost electric charge when Bodie looked at him and knew exactly what he was feeling, just like he knew what was going through Bodie's head. Those moments, when the two of them clicked in tacit understanding, were precious to him... For the first time, Ray let himself imagine Bodie naked...with his pale torso glimmering, muscles flexing, splayed out on Ray’s dark-sheeted bed bathed in moonlight and shadows, that odd eyebrow raised in lustful invitation..... Blind Spot:Shay Sheridan I sensed his scrutiny and felt strangely unsettled by it..William Phillips was something else, did something quite disconcerting to me. I couldn’t shake the conviction that those penetrating indigo blue eyes of his seemed to look straight into me and read my lustful thoughts in glorious technicolor. When It All Comes Tumbling Down: Marjoram_ Max
	Amid the shriek of protesting tires, the gold Capri rocked to a halt, lurched forward once, angled back, then fell silent as its ignition was abruptly disengaged. Raymond Doyle sat in the driver's seat, hands wrapped around the steering wheel, baleful gaze turned towards the entry to the apartment block that stood outside his right window. The bastard. Despite the almost overwhelming impetus to stalk up to Bodie's door and smash his handsome face in, Doyle held himself rigid, forcing himself to breathe normally, waiting for the fury-paced beat of his heart to gradually slow. It took a while, considering the state of his temper; but it allowed him the first real chance to think since Cowley had dropped his bomb. The bastard had resigned. Trial Run:Ellis Ward
	He knew from overheard conversations that the two spent a fair amount of off duty time together, whether on double dates or just watching a game on the box. Cowley wondered if they ever turned down the level of intensity he saw on the job, or even if they realized the heat they generated between them. Half of every conversation between the two was carried on silently in looks and gestures - if you only heard their words, you missed half their meaning.... As the two men's eyes remained locked, it seemed to Cowley that no one else existed for them just then. There was an exclusiveness between them that he almost envied. Almost - he had never wanted the responsibility that such a close relationship engendered. A Safe Bet:D Ramsey
	"Don't know why we don't just leave our mess in one place. Spend half our lives carting things back and forth across the whole of London like some bloody sight-seeing coach." Just having exited the car, Doyle froze to look in through the window at him, his vibrant body momentarily stone still. Breath held, Bodie took in the rigid shoulders and too-straight back, and KNEW he'd failed, transgressed beyond the over-generous limits Ray had set for them, broken his word. Unable to meet Doyle's eyes in his shame..... Bodie heard only the lilting laughter in the melodious voice which mocked him. "Come live with me and be my love, eh?" "Sorry, mate," he said stiffly, the shuttered dignity that was pride offering no balm to his torn heart. "Guess it is more like Her Reply...." His Reply:Rosemary Callahan
	"Going where?" "To pick up the girls..…". Bodie let his voice trail away as he caught sight of Doyle.... He swallowed reflexively, knew it was too late, that Doyle had seen, would surely know that Bodie wanted him more than anyone else. "Didn't I tell you?" Oh so casual, "They're busy tonight, couldn't make it. So I thought…" So you thought good old Bodie might stand up as third choice after all, did you? Heat spread through him, lust, anger – disappointment? No, it was rage, that's what it was. Thought Bodie'd be here whenever he.....No. The High Up Singing and Alive Fruit:Slantedlight
	"Fancy some turkey at my place?" Doyle had suggested tentatively. "Touch of the old sloth and gluttony?" "Bit of lust too?".....Doyle caught the uncertainty that lurked behind it. "If your luck's in." He managed to conceal the throb of excitement that warmed his whole body at that declaration of intent. "You'll have to do the washing-up if I'm going to cook." "I'll borrow your pinny and rubber gloves." "Just keep your lunch-hooks off me curlers, all right?" Boxing Day The Hag
	It was eleven, later, and Bodie loitered at Doyle's door, and could not decide. What the hell am I doing here? A pale moon shone; blown by a southerly wind clouds scudded across the sky and would not stay to make pictures: no omens there to help him. He had done the right thing yesterday, held Doyle off; and to go back on it would be madness. The man was a leech, greedy for it all, uncaring of his host's decline. So what point was there in letting himself listen to something which had been, at best, an echo; a long-ago dream which contemptuous reality had forced into the dust? No point at all...... Perfect Day:Sebastian
	With sudden clarity, Bodie knew he had to control this situation before he said something he would regret, before the control he had exercised all this time slipped from his possession ..... The lust had been burning inside him since the moment he met the argumentative Met copper, despite taking an immediate dislike to him. But dislike had turned to grudging admiration, and then into respect; and lust had not diminished, only become fuelled by the added flame of love. A singularly unpleasant revelation experienced after finding Ray shot and bleeding in his apartment and watching him fight Death after Mayli's bullets had stopped his heart. Buying himself time, he strode to the drinks cabinet and poured two large whiskies. He downed one glass immediately, and poured another, before turning to Doyle.... Splash!:Raven RS & ILWB
	Doyle had never thought himself a coward before but he dropped the phone back in its cradle as if afraid it would bite him then sat staring at it wondering what he should do next, his thoughts a jumbled mess of confusion and doubt. His common sense was telling him that whatever or whoever Bodie had become involved in he should stay out of it but his instincts were screaming something different and he didn’t know which to believe. And who the hell was this man who seemed to have full access to Bodie’s flat? Doyle didn’t like the sting of jealousy he felt at the thought of what the man could mean to his partner; they had no hold on each other after all. But the sting was there nevertheless... A Mercenary's Tale:Fictionwriter
	"....I can knock off an exquisite poem faster than you can... well, make a cup of tea, for instance." "Except most of yours are obscene.......But if you're going to make some tea--" Bodie weighed the conflicting calls of sloth and gluttony. He fancied being waited on hand, foot and finger, but Doyle was disinclined to this entrancing pursuit. If he went and made the tea he could forage unhindered by comments about his weight for fruitcake and mince pies and chocolate biscuits, and perhaps a nibble of the cold turkey he'd brought back from the early Christmas dinner Gran had cooked for him yesterday. Pity he couldn't have taken Doyle along to meet her, but then Doyle had been gathering up the remains of his sister's superb baking. Crackers:The Hag
	"Be a good chap and get us an ice-cream," Bodie said suddenly, eyes still closed. Doyle looked down at him incredulously. "You're bloody joking aren't you?" An eye cracked open..."Now, now," Bodie admonished. "You really need to calm down. Take a stroll up along the promenade." "We. Are. Meant. To. Be. Watching. The. Hut." "Take a break." "Oh, yeah, right....sure Cowley would love that.." Doyle stared at the empty beach huts and back at Bodie, narrowing his eyes when he saw how relaxed his partner had become. "You'd better not be thinking about sleeping," he warned... "Not sleepin'," Bodie murmured. "Just restin' me eyes." Sun, Sea and Desiccated Particles of Silica:Rospberry
	Doyle's voice was a husky whisper. "I know. Oh, Christ, Michael, I've been so - so bloody lonely. You don't know what it's been like. Working with him, wanting him, while he dates this girl and that girl, then, once a week I'll get the royal summons and trot along, well trained, and climb into bed like his personal, made-to-order catamite." He paused, clearing his throat. "I'm not proud of what I've been doing." "Stop hurting yourself." Murphy said softly. "There's only you knows about your wounded pride. Bodie's a good lad, never set out to hurt you on purpose, but you're too clever an actor, Ray. You've hidden it all, made him think you're happy. If you'd blown your stack at him it might have been different." .... "You can't get angry with someone because they don't love you........" Coming Home:Kathy Keegan
	Bodie looked after the slighter man, and frowned. He felt, to his surprise, envy.... Bodie never cried - he didn't think he could, not anymore. He'd seen too much. He'd been too often hurt, killed too many people. He didn't enjoy killing, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it no longer touched him the way it had Doyle. The guy made Bodie feel inhuman, as if Doyle was in a place he could no longer reach. Envy. Yes. But he didn't resent Doyle for his humanity. What he also felt, which surprised him even more, was compassion. Because he wasn't as hard as all that. He remembered what it was like to do what Doyle just had... Surrounding a Declaration,Chapter 1: Maddalia
	On first acquaintance, he'd wanted nothing so much as to throttle Ray Doyle. That had quickly changed. It hadn't taken long for him to realize that the scruffy git was one of the top men on the squad. He was the best shot with a handgun that Bodie had ever seen, and his wiry strength and tenacity in a fight made him near unbeatable, in spite of his slender frame. Soon enough, Bodie couldn't imagine working with anyone else. Not that the partnership was perfect. Ray got up his nose often as not. He told the most atrocious jokes. And he dressed in rejects from an Oxfam shop. But he was a good mate. The best. There was no one with whom he'd rather lift a pint, or spend a day in the country riding his bike. Then one day Bodie had looked at Ray, at the green, slanted eyes and the unkempt hair... and lust had shot through him like a lightning bolt. Evasive Manoeuvres:PR Zed
	He couldn’t have said the thought aloud if he’d needed to. Even saying it in the privacy of his own mind was difficult: from the first moment he’d seen Jerry and Bodie together, his very first instinct had been to split them up, putting himself between them in whichever way possible. What a strange sort of jealousy he’d had; he hadn’t even allowed himself to think about taking Bodie away from women, so he’d taken women away from Bodie. Stealing Home: Sandy K Herrold
	He watched them as they finally headed over to the lavatory. Torrie and Ellie had very different styles, but they were both a pleasure to watch walk away. He turned and caught Bodie watching too. He hoped his expression had been slightly more civilized than Bodie's open greed. Bodie spied the dessert trolley, and the expression in his eyes hardly changed at all. Doyle would have sworn he'd seen the same expression aimed at him. Cheerful gluttony. Quick satisfaction of an itch. He frowned, knowing better than to be thinking about it now after they'd been drinking. Two Birds, No Stone:Sandy Herrold & Rosa Westphalen
	The trip down the M4 was for once completed without traffic hold-ups, and Bodie's mood had lifted slightly as they turned off onto the country lanes..... "Shouldn't be far now. Wonder what this place is like?" "Big, I expect."......the visiting sheik had apparently shipped in a supporting entourage for his stay in the run-up to the Cheltenham Festival....."If he's brought any wives you'd better remember to keep your hands off them, unless you want to join the entourage as a eunuch." "No chance. Anyway, I think I'm off women for a bit." He sounded light-hearted, but Doyle knew Bodie's pride, if not his feelings, had been badly dented when Gemma had dropped him after just a couple of dates. It was usually Bodie who did the dropping.... Odds On:Carol Good
	"Gratitude! He wants gratitude! Jesus, Bodie, who the fuck were you trying to be - Superman? ...... You had to charge in like a bull at a gate, taking him on alone with only one good hand...." "But - " I ranted on, ignoring his attempt to speak. "Believe you're indestructible, you do! Don't think, don't give a damn about me, about how I would feel if you got your cretinous self killed, do you? If I hadn't known you were going on the river, if I hadn't remembered that pub you'd taken me to, we'd still be runnin' around in circles like headless chickens and you'd all be dead. And you want gratitude for that kind of stupidity? Not to mention giving me fucking heart failure.." Never Say No Strings: Barbara Thomas
	...Stuart bounced jauntily into the rec room. A rare sight in the confines of CI5 the man always seemed to make a beeline for Doyle whenever he was around, something that for some reason irritated Bodie no end. Today was no exception. Giving Bodie a sketchy nod by way of acknowledgement Stuart chose to stand next to Doyle by the counter. “Long time no see, mate. How’s tricks?” he asked, looking directly at Doyle, very much in his personal space.... He saw their byplay, the easy way they had with each other and something bone deep in Bodie stirred – a single moment of madness that told him if Stuart tried to touch his partner….he would probably kill him... The Spell:Fictionwriter

	Alone most of the time, she believed that he had been hurt and now worked incessantly with little down time to keep the loneliness at bay. He had a sense of humour and a delightful smile the few times she'd seen it. He would share where he'd been, but nothing much about himself. He usually stopped in at the pub across from Emma's, The Swift Stag, on his first night back for fish and chips and a lager. He would sit by himself and would nod in response to any given him, but most all could tell that Mr Bodie wanted to be alone. Charlie Turnbill, the barman....had the feeling that the solitary man was aware of everything happening around him. They had a bet on as to whether Mr Bodie was bent or a straight. No clue yet...... Assignment in Brentby:KrisserCI5
	"What's wrong with Bodie?" .... "It was an emergency call late last night, some kind of brawl or assault, we don't know yet. He's concussed and having trouble talking, but there's something he's been trying to tell us and he's asking for you." "How hurt?" "He's very confused. They say it's probably temporary but -- " "Probably?" Doyle's gut tightened. "There might be some brain damage. But probably not." Cowley's voice was steel...... Undercover. Always bloody undercover...... Poetry to Protect Us:The Hag
	"Why would a man like him pay for a woman? He's not that bad looking. Is he?" "I've seen worse," Doyle admitted. "But it's not women he pays for." "Ah." Doyle can see that the penny's dropped. Bodie smirks. "You'd better watch out then, sunshine. Pretty boy like you—" "It's not the pretty boys he likes, though," Doyle answers, not smiling back and feeling irked at being labelled a 'pretty' boy. "It's men like you." "Tall, dark and handsome?" Doyle snorts. "Ex-Army," he corrects. "A bit of muscle who's used to following orders." Bodie makes a face. "I'll be sure to steer clear," he says. "I only take orders from Cowley. There's a split-second of silence and then Bodie's lips twitch. "You know what I mean....." Personal Interests: Hambel
	"Conor Roderick?" Bodie said. It was less a question than an expression of surprise…… “Aye, Bodie. Conor Roderick. The heir apparent.....According to your file you knew him." Knew him. Knew him, bedded him, lost him.... Bodie nodded, his eyes still focused on the screen. "Back in the day. Merc days," he clarified. "We worked on the same mob a couple of times. He got religion, went back to Belfast." He hesitated barely a second. "We lost touch... Heard his name around while I was stationed there. He was a Provo out of Derry, I think. Ran a brigade. Deadly, he was." "Still is. In fact, if anything, MacDiarmada's tutelage has made him even more deadly, more efficient at killing....Did your paths cross while you were with the Paras?" He shook his head. "No, sir. I was keeping my head down." Rules of Engagement:Aerye
	When they got the news they'd have to be undercover as homosexuals, once again Doyle had ice water veins, but Bodie felt himself growing more and more uncomfortable.... He couldn't bear to be close to Doyle just then, or even look at him. How could Doyle take it so calmly? (He) very much hoped his poker face was still working, and no one could see the intense embarrassment inside when he thought about the other night. Not that he'd done anything. Hadn't even touched Doyle's curly head.... Didn't count. Didn't. Really didn't. But all the same he didn't want to look at Doyle again for a bit, in case a cool assessing gaze saw right through him, stripped him soul-naked.. He's my mate. And Cowley's not sending us under because he thinks it's true. He's sending us because we're his best men and we've been there before. Bloody Doyle:Anxious Alien
	He remembered Doyle’s wide-eyed stare, calm confidence fading to uncertainty, and at the last, disbelief. Why had he left it so long to stop Williams?...All Doyle’s self-sufficiency had crumbled and his breath had come shorter. He had looked wild and beautiful, and part of Bodie’s delay had been his fascination and – admit it – lust....Ray Doyle, totally dependent on him, W.A.P. Bodie? Sure, Doyle had depended on him many times before – they saved each others’ lives with such regularity that it hardly occasioned any comment – but this had been different, had had dark overtones of dependency, of submission, of dominance... Tender Comrade:Murphybabe
	Sometimes his boss was more frank about these little assignments, sometimes he couched it in discreet terms. Nonetheless, there was no misunderstanding between them on what was required. There was, however, a question to be answered. How was he going to "get to know" an artist?....What role did Cowley have planned for him? He could hardly fake being another artist, so that left.... "Oh, no." Bodie frowned, having figured out what was in the Old Man's plans. "Sir, I've never done anything like that before." Cowley's lips twitched into a slight smile. "I understand that all you need do is hold still for long periods. Surely you've done that on surveillance jobs." "Not in the nude," Bodie replied tersely. "Well, there's a first time for everything....." The Art of Love:Alexandra
	"Good evening, Sir William," the doorman said formally. Bodie wasn't surprised that this man, who he'd never met before, knew his name. Well, at least the name he was using for the undercover op. He gave the doorman a cursory glance, wondering how much a custom-made dinner jacket cost for a bloke who weighed in excess of three hundred pounds and stood a good five inches over six feet. He felt like a dwarf next to this gorilla. "'Evening," Bodie responded as he entered, calculating the best way to take the guard with his bare hands. It would be an interesting match, if push came to shove, he reckoned. "This way, sir," the guard said...."You are expected....." Undercover Revelations:LilyK
	Wall-to-wall men. Young men with hard, muscled bodies, older men trying desperately to compete, beautiful men, rough men, men with one thing on their minds. Sex. They sized each other up, they went through the usual chat-up lines, they bought each other drinks.... Doyle had been in such clubs during his days on the vice squad. But he had never been in one as a patron, and he looked and watched with new eyes, with a different sensibility. In the half hour since his arrival he had been hit on eight times--some with subtle suggestions, most with blatant overtures, the men openly wanting. Wanting him. But he gave each man a flat refusal. He calmly sipped at his glass of warm brandy, and waited for the one man who would get a "yes." A few minutes later, Bodie walked into the club..... Dance While You Can:Alexandra
	He hadn’t laid eyes on his partner for going on six weeks and it had been hell, the kind of hell Doyle wasn’t sure he’d be able to explain to Bodie in a million years. An ironic kind of hell given the case and Bodie’s role in it..... They didn’t acknowledge one another of course, although Doyle knew Bodie had clocked him......... Word is Out:JoJo
	It seemed impossible that Ray would be involved......Hell, he’d sacrificed his career with the Met to turn in crooked cops. So how could he have joined with them now? But Ray had also admitted having used drugs a few times when he lived on the streets... Which was the real Doyle? It was said that a person’s character was developed by their early experiences. Bodie laughed at himself. He was starting to think like Ross. But Ray had had a rough childhood, leading him to do things that the grown up Doyle professed to abhor. His own experiences as a youth had led him to the mercenaries and made him a killer. He was still a killer. So maybe Ray hadn’t changed that much either. He took a deep pull from the bottle and his thoughts turned in a different direction. How had he been fooled by Ray all this time? They’d been so close.... Broken Trust:Merentha13
	“His name is Rudolph Kruger. He’s rich, he’s arrogant, and he’s back and forth frequently between here and Cape Town. I also have it on good authority he quietly got engaged to the step-daughter of the ambassador’s brother two days before the bodies washed ashore. Not a solid link to be sure, but still....." “What’s the plan, then? Surveillance?” “Aye. But I want something a little more up close and personal with Kruger...." “So...?” prodded Bodie, keen as ever to get to the nuts and bolts of the thing... “Why, one of you is going to ingratiate yourself into his inner circle, Bodie. I have it on good authority that one of his bodyguards is about to slip on some very nasty ice and do himself no good at all.... Into the Fire:Callisto
	"Anybody tries to molest you, you just point out your big, bad, butch boyfriend and tell 'em I'm the jealous type." "Hey! How come you're the boyfriend then? You're always on about being the pretty one in this partnership. I think that makes me the jealous boyfriend." Bodie blinked and pretended to consider that. Finally he sighed and shook his head. "Sorry, Ray. It's true I'm the looker, but I'm bigger and tougher than you, you delicate sod... 'Course they'll wonder what I see in your ugly mug, but they'll think it's your hidden assets that hooked me." Fools in Paradise: Caro Dee
	"Come on, Ray, we take risks all the time, it's the job." "Usually with good backup," Doyle countered swiftly. "I'm telling you: Courtney's bad news." "The enforced idleness is making you twitchy mate. Go and get a drink, or better still, come to the club and relax. They've got a girl dancing almost nude with a dirty great snake wrapped round her neck. It'll get your pulse pounding just watching her." "And how many times have you seen her?" Doyle asked, fascinated despite himself. "Nigh on every night," Bodie said and shot him a sly glance. "She comes on just before I get me break, so I try and work down the right end of the bar just to get the show. She's quite a looker." "The girl or snake, "Doyle asked, amused..... Smokescreen:Alicambs
	"I'd just like to know what Cowley's trying to achieve, that's all. I mean... what possible good can come from recruiting that sort of bloke?" "If you can't beat 'em--join 'em," said one voice. "Cowley's got his reasons--maybe he means to use him as a plant, undercover... that sort of thing." said another... "I still don't like it," the original protester said firmly. "How can we trust a bloke that's already proved he can't be trusted?" About to enter the room and find out what everyone was talking about, Doyle was frozen to the spot just outside the door as another voice added its contribution to the debate. "Doyle's all right. He's done his time, paid his dues to society and all that crap. If Cowley sees fit to trust him I don't see that we can't." Waiting to Fall:Rob
	"What's my part in the plan?" "You," Bodie said, with the air of someone saying something significant, "are going to go eat breakfast. Go mingle, whatever it is you do.....Then I thought we might engage in a spot of espionage," ....he could see Bodie's eyes sparkle with delight. It was the same look he got when you handed him a box of grenades, a very large gun, or the keys to a fast car. This was the exciting stuff, and he clearly loved every minute of it. And Doyle loved when Bodie looked like that. It usually made him want to give him more grenades. These days it was making him want—things he shouldn't. "You've got the keys," Bodie continued. "I know where we're going. Henderson's on duty, and he's likely to turn a blind eye seeing the two of us go down there. Even better, he's lazy enough that he doesn't do his rounds as often as he should. We should have a good few hours." Arcadia:Sineala
	"You do know Bodie can never return your feelings, don’t you?" "He didn’t have any trouble before....." "He was deep undercover, indeed had been for many months. He was looking for a distraction." I don’t know why Cowley was baiting me, but I wasn’t about to roll over that easily. "Whether or not I was a distraction for him, Mr Cowley, it is up to him to tell me and not you." Was that a slight twitch of his lips? If it was it soon disappeared back into the stern persona. When It All Comes Tumbling Down: Marjoram Max
	"So you never really needed my help. That story about owing him money." "I did need your help. I was undercover and I was in trouble. You saved my life, Ray." "But you couldn't tell me the truth. You just ran out." Bodie thought back to that final night two years ago, remembering how he had just watched Doyle sleep, his face outlined by the moonlight that slipped in through old, worn curtains. It had been the longest night of his life as he tried to decide what he should do.... "You scared the hell out of me, Ray. I-I just wasn't ready." " "Ready for what? To tell the truth?" "To stay. And, yes, to tell you the truth." "So why are you telling me now?" ".....Because I'm on a case now and you're involved." Torch Song:Courtney Gray
	"I don't think I caught that, Bodie. You have some problem with the assignment?" The agent didn't speak, in fact his lips were pressed tightly together and the controller of CI5 could imagine the pressure of the younger man's teeth grinding against each other. But the face before him was blank, a practised facade displaying no emotion. Cowley's gaze softened a little as he looked at one of his best agents; he didn't relish giving out this kind of assignment, in fact it left a rather sour taste in his mouth. But the objective was important and he was in no doubt that for this particular job Bodie was the best man. Nine-Tenths:Cassidy
	"You there.....Yes, you. I've seen you prowling around. Not a burglar are you?" Before Doyle could respond, Lord Henry turned to Bodie. "And you, sir. Don't get physical with me, young man. I can take you on you know. I'm not a duke without learning a thing or two..." "We're on the staff," Doyle quickly explained. "Are you? Are you sure? Damned if I've seen you before. You do look familiar though.....Oh, well, that's all right then. Carry on." They thanked him and made their escape..... Below Stairs:Sylvie Orp
	The op had required them to pose as a gay couple and Bodie was amused to realise that they really didn't have to act very differently than they usually did, more affectionate certainly, especially Doyle and that was another thing that Bodie had found amusing. Doyle threw himself into the part with gusto and Bodie liked this new affectionate Doyle, he liked him a lot. He hadn't expected Doyle to kiss him though...The day it had happened Bodie had been standing at the window looking out to the street, willing the bad coppers to make their move so that they could go home when Doyle had come up behind him. He could feel the heat of Doyle's body through his clothes and he remembered thinking that there was no reason for his partner to be standing so close behind him, the proximity of his partner was making him feel hot and slightly uneasy..... Office Romance:Livia Collins

	“Love me. Did you ever?” Bodie swallowed hard. “I...'course I did, mate.” He thought back with a feeling of being stunned. It hadn’t been like Marikka, something you fell into right away, desperate and young and hungry for anyone. It had been a slow, burning, building, trusting sort of love, a tenderness between them. A desire to keep Doyle safe at all costs, and for him to be happy. Could hardly believe he’d ended it, to be honest. Some days he thought he must’ve been mad... “But you don’t any more.” Doyle’s eyes were sad, wise, older than the rest of him, resigned and so lonely. They were eyes to tug at the hardest heartstring. And Bodie’s weren’t, not any more. Not for Doyle. A Little at a Time: AnxiousAlien
	"So, mon vieux," said the deep velvet voice of Tarquin...The top man; more than arms dealer, more than mercenary commander..."It has been a long time……You want something, non?......what is it you require?” “......A war. I've had my fill of organisations. I want to get out into the field. The front line." Some soldiers were fighting machines; highly tuned, finely balanced, and the more deadly and efficient for it. But inevitably, that very efficiency took its own toll, and if the commanding officer failed to follow elementary precautions, the Bodies of this world became--unsafe. A danger to others and to themselves. Of course, given time and the right handling, the situation would resolve itself. The man would either break, unwind, or be killed... Endgame:Tarot
	He quite desperately wanted to talk to someone – to Bodie – about his apprehensiveness....Even if it was just to hear Bodie dismiss the feeling as inevitable jitters after being absent from work for so long, it would have been better than nothing...... Maybe it was just first-night nerves. It had been almost a year, after all, since he had done anything like this. Come this close to a bullet. Another bullet, that could rip and tear and burn and destroy... No. No, no, no. He couldn't think like this. It would be fine. It was a tight set-up, as safe as anything like this could ever be, and it was his job. He could do it. He wished, fiercely, enviously, for just a fraction of Bodie's insouciance to see him though this. The Uses of Adversity:Izzie7
	It took some time to find the grave in the dark, but his sense of direction was good, and his need for a some type of catharsis was even greater......"Bet you're surprised to see me, aren't you, sir?" he said softly. "Bit surprised to be here meself. Never figured I was the type to be climbing into cemeteries in the dead of night to hold seances. Corpses don't generally have a lot of conversation." Bodie's head dropped wearily. "Listen, you old goat, I've got to ask you something, and you've got to tell me straight. No more of your damn triple think..." He swallowed the growing lump in his throat and looked up at the starless sky, letting the drizzle wash his face and cool his burning eyes. Looking down at the grave again, he whispered, "You've got to tell me, please. Is Doyle right? Tell me, George, am I crazy?" Where the Worms are:Pamela Rose
	There was a bigger crash from downstairs, this time of breaking glass, and a thump and then it all went quiet.....He pulled the gun up once again to firing position. The pain was excruciating, and he found his vision greying out at the sides and narrowing in to a pinprick. The sound of the movement downstairs changed... the creak of a foot on a stair tread..... Doyle wondered if it would be easier or harder, dying knowing who he was, knowing who wasn't here with him, knowing how alone he was. "Oh, Bodie," he breathed....and then there were bullets zinging through the air and punching into the wall behind him and no more time to think of love lost or love missed. There was only time to duck and hide and hope. The Persistence of Memory:PR Zed
	Sentiment. Blind, bloody dangerous sentiment — it made you vulnerable. It opened you up to betrayal and loss. He’d learnt that lesson long ago. Everything changed when you let someone in; their true colours were revealed. Lisa had left him after they’d reached land, Rachel hadn’t told him about Krivas, Marikka had betrayed him. He’d sworn never to have that Achilles heel, never to feel so much for someone else that he’d set himself up for loss: of them, of himself. It was too risky; It wasn’t worth the pain of — Maybe he thought it was worth the risk. Doyle’s voice was in his head, from long ago — when? Dreisinger. Dreisinger dying on the tarmac because he’d wanted Christine. Didn’t that just prove his point? Doyle had agreed, hadn’t he? Doyle again..... Point of View:PFL
	“And ... I’ve seen enough of him ... of the two of you ... at work ... Well, I’ve seen enough to know that he’ll make you happy. The way he looks at you. It’s obvious. I see him sometimes ... He’s noticed the way your hair curls just after it’s been washed. The way the smell of you changes as the day goes on. Hasn’t he? Everything. And he tells you. Can’t help himself. Though it’s obvious, anyway, that he thinks about you all the time... Sometimes I see him look at you, and I know ... he’s remembering. “It doesn’t frighten him, you see. For him it’s ... it’s wonderful. He wants it. He likes feeling his heart ... turn over. Doesn’t frighten him. Not at all. Freezing:Helen Raven
	He had wished so long and so hard for this meeting, that it was hard for Doyle to take in the fact that he was now stood face to face with Bodie. But there was no trace of his cheerful, easy-going partner in the man before him. The Bodie that stood returning his gaze had been chiselled from obsidian and sapphire. A hard, dangerous man without a spark of kindliness in his expression. Doyle opened and closed his mouth. He had rehearsed this conversation so many times, but now he had the opportunity to speak the words he so wanted to say, he found they simply wouldn’t come…and what’s more, he knew that whatever he said was not going to be enough. Still, he had to try. “We need to talk,” he blurted. “There are things I need to say.” “But nothing hat I want to hear,” Bodie replied stonily A Second Chance:sestra_prior
	Could go for hours without thinking about it; sometimes a whole day, seeing Ray, working with him. No problem. And then, something'd get to him. Just something simple, like the way Ray'd grin sometimes, with that busted tooth; that strange remote look he'd get at times when he just looked so bloody beautiful he didn't seem real...... Christ ... He shouldn't still feel so much, such a tangle of emotions -- all for Ray. But they all still seemed to be there, present and correct: jealousy, love, frustration, resentment ... And temptation, of course. Scenes from the Edge:Kate Maclean
	I should be asking myself if Bodie would want me for the rest of our lives. I can't answer that question. As far as I'm concerned, though, the answer is yes. I do want him. Want to live with him and be with him. And, since this means I'll have to quit the squad and I can think about that without too much regret, I suppose that's the answer. I will have to quit. I can't live with Bodie and know I could get killed any day. Where would that leave him? Out on his own again. Yeah. He's blind but that doesn't mean he's lost his brain or his ability to function. And I can't promise him happy ever after, either. Who knows what the hell could happen in five or ten year's time. We're both of us going to have to take a chance on one another Independence Day:Eve Abel Unpro 12
	Cowley had assigned us a surveillance job. Peter Malloy was an Irish no-hoper. Just out of his teens and he'd decided his burning ambition was to be an IRA hard man.... There'd been hints of the Irish mob planning something nasty and (Cowley) wanted to see if Malloy knew anything about it.... I was about to suggest we call it a day when the little bastard ducked into a sandwich shop.... then I noticed the bloke he was talking to: Stavros. Bomb-maker extraordinaire and wanted by every security force in Europe.....Doyle was looking as gobsmacked as I felt. I couldn't believe it, a stupid git like Malloy leading us to a truly big fish like Stavros. You never know what the day will bring you in a mob like ours. As we watched, Stavros handed Malloy a pack..... Descent:PR Zed
	"No one informed me of what was happening!” Doyle’s words were bitter. Cowley removed his glasses and took in his agent’s belligerent profile.... The fine trembling was only visible now if one looked for it and was mostly due to exhaustion. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he was appalled and shamed by what he was putting his agent through to complete this operation. Maybe Ross had been right, he thought... There was an impenetrable sadness around Doyle. He and his partner, Bodie, were close. It was more than losing a colleague, Doyle had lost a friend.... Triple Think:Merentha13
	Doyle was off to my left, deeper in the woods. He had better cover over there, the lucky bastard......The second bullet had hit my thigh. Not a dangerous wound, not yet--it had hit muscle, not bone, not a major artery--but it was bleeding like a bastard and it hurt like a bastard when I so much as shifted. But it was all right, because Doyle was here. Doyle would save me, if he could. And if he couldn't, Doyle would remember me. I was more sure of that than I was the world was round. I smiled in spite of the pain, in spite of the mud, in spite of the thought of death waiting for me in these woods, with a skeletal leer and a too-sharp scythe. Mud and Remembrance:PR Zed
	“Where is he?” “Such devotion. I don’t trust you, Bodie. Are you bugged?....Your partner won’t thank you for it...." “No, damn you.” Bodie hissed in utter frustration. “Doyle has nothing to do with you, or what happened. It’s me you want, let him go and you can have me.” “There is only one thing I want, and you know it.” The voice was suddenly full of hate and Bodie was abruptly fearful for his partner’s safety. “Are you going to tell me?” “Tell me where Doyle is first?” “You are hardly in a position to make demands......” “I won’t bargain over a dead man. Either I see Doyle alive, or I’m gone and the police can have you.” He waited and for one awful moment, thought he had pushed too far...... Doyle and Bodie - Bit by Bit:Jaicen5
	Sleeping with Doyle had been intense, sensual but hardly romantic, and Bodie had no idea if the extent of his feelings for Doyle were reciprocated. What if, to Doyle, he was no different than the hundreds of other willing women -- and men -- that he’d bedded over the years? Why should he be any different? It made him feel like an idiot, but suddenly Bodie was beginning to understand a woman’s eternal fear that they wouldn’t be respected in the morning, that they were offering something of themselves which wouldn’t be returned........ Hopes and Fears:Rhianne
	Intense, scruffy, mercurial Ray Doyle was an enigma. He had the compassion that Bodie eschewed, but it was paired with an uncompromising sense of right and wrong, of black and white, of justice for all. The actions taken to satisfy that fierce sense of justice didn’t always mix well with his innate compassion. Doyle wore guilt like a second skin. That’s where Bodie came in. He knew just how to handle Doyle’s moods....(Cowley) understood Bodie and his motivations. He had seen that the ex-mercenary needed something, or someone, to balance him. Something to soften the hard edges he displayed to the world, something to breach the high walls that protected a surprising vulnerability. Someone to teach him that compassion wasn’t necessarily a handicap. Ghosts of Christmas Past Merentha13
	Doyle. Somebody had shot at Doyle. Somebody was toying with him before killing him. I looked on in amazement as Bodie's normally expressionless eyes filled with worry before he had time to turn away from me. I knew my expression mirrored his. If somebody killed Doyle, I knew Bodie would never recover. He never cared for anybody. Even his closest friends were kept as casual acquaintances. But Doyle. I knew as soon as I saw them Doyle was different. Doyle had somehow gotten past every barrier Bodie had ever built. That alone earned him my respect, but Bodie's next words shook me to the core, and increased my opinion of Doyle thousand fold. He's my friend Marty. I don't want to lose him. Damn. How the hell could I help? Through the eyes of an observer:Frankie McStein
	....nothing had happened between them in the year since that kiss. The subject hadn't even come up. They'd just gone on as normal, and Bodie had ached, and longed, and wondered if the whole thing had been a dream, except that sometimes Doyle did something, or said something, or looked at him a certain way, and Bodie remembered he was loved. Valentine: Maddalia: Proslib CD
	The truth of it was he knew exactly why Bodie was reacting this way. Helplessness, fear, anger—potent, dangerous emotions that came with the job and could be diffused in a myriad of different outlets, but this was different. This long, tragic night had broken down the last of the walls they'd pretended existed between them, the final barrier that had separated partners and friends from something much more. That's when it clicked for Ray, when the scales of denial fell away from his eyes. Bodie had every reason to believe that Doyle had died in that lorry, and finding him alive had made him more vulnerable than ever. Had their positions been reversed, Ray would've reacted much the same, willing to strike out in anger instead of facing the truth of what his partner's death—or life—meant to him. Field and Fountain, Moor and Mountain:Veronica

	"So let me get this straight," Doyle said about half an hour later. "Cowley wants me to pass myself off as a rent boy in order to sleep with a member of the MoD for the purposes of finding out whether he's in bed--literally--with Albanian intelligence?" It stunk. That was the only term that Doyle could use to describe it. Not that Doyle hadn't done the same thing many, many times where women were concerned, but never with a bloke before. And never as a ... professional. Jax blinked. "I'm afraid so," he said..... "Why me? Do I look like a rent-boy or something?" Jax hesitated, and Doyle, not inclined to be merciful, was struck with awful inspiration. "Let me guess," he said brutally. "I look like the ones he takes home with him, right?" "I'm afraid so." Reconnections:Madmogs
	Doyle scowled and raised the R/T to his mouth. "You sunk my submarine, you bastard." He heard his partner chuckle on the other end, then spotted a light come on in the kitchen of the cottage they were watching. "Someone's making some dinner. Looks like the blond." "Oh," Bodie replied blandly. "Thrilling, that is. I'll have to make a note in my diary." "'M just saying." Doyle said. "Yeah, I know. Sun's going down, mate." Doyle raised an eyebrow. "Oh, thank God for that. I thought I was going blind." Comrades:Vermilioncola/Vermillon Angel
	"The way you treat your women I don't know how you avoid all the aggro." "No, I don't suppose you do," I told him with a condescension I knew would get right up his nose. "But we can't all be born tall, dark, handsome and engagingly modest like me." "One inch you've got over me," he snorted..... "Ah, but it's what I do with it that slays 'em." Butterfingers:HGdoghouse
	....“Oi!” he said softly. Bodie looked around and Doyle leaned forward so that no-one, least of all McCabe, could hear him. “I’d better warn you – I’m crap at darts.....” “Don’t worry, mate.....I’m brilliant enough for both of us. We’ll walk it. You just keep the beers coming.” He tilted his head slightly and his smile changed, becoming somehow warmer.“That’s what partners are for – right?” Coming Home:SAC
	"Listen to that," Doyle greeted Bodie gloomily as he joined him in the VIP room. "I mean, just listen." Bodie caught the end of the song on the radio and understood immediately. Time for Doyle's standard speech on how Christmas was all about consumerism: the third world starving while other people ate turkey and gave each other stupid presents they didn't want. "'Orrible song, that. They should shoot Gary Glitter." Doyle was obviously, and predictably, warming up to his topic. "It's getting worse than the Sound of Music. In fact it is worse. They play this over and over and at least you only get the lonely bloody goatherd once." So Here It is, Merry Christmas: Brenda K
	“How d’you feel...about Bognor Regis then?” ...... the voice was definitely stronger. Bodie looked at him, in all his washed out glory, listing sideways a little on the pillows. His curls were matted and everywhere, he was trying to breathe oh so steadily just for Bodie, and most importantly of all, both corners of his mouth were trying not to twitch too hard. And all the while he was holding on, gripping Bodie’s hand tightly enough to bring the sweat and tears out in both of them..... “Don’t know, never met him.” “Got a mate...with a caravan.” “’Course you have, sunshine.” Doyle smiled......... Time Will Tell:Callisto
	“Playing again, Bodie?” His.....tone didn’t faze Bodie who merely replied, ‘Ah, more like educating, sir.” With an artfully angelic expression, he clarified. “About the size of our weapons....” Competing with each other more like. Again! As if the young women in the typing pool needed any further encouragement – they were already in awe of the field agents and the dangerous risks involved in their everyday lives and it took very little for men like Doyle or Bodie to take advantage of that awe in their endless game of one-upmanship. “Well she did ask,” Bodie murmured to no one in particular. Second Guess: Jaicen5
	“Good is it?” Bodie didn't even look up. “Very.” “Then read me something.” This time, the dark head rose..... “Aren't you supposed to be watching the building?” “I can look through the binoculars and listen to you at the same time.” “No.” “Worried you won't be able to pronounce the big words correctly?” “.......You really want me to read poetry to you?” Darkness at Noon:Draycevixen
	Bodie liked children. He'd never met one he didn't like. Tommy Winter, however, rather like the unholy Damien, was a different creature altogether...... "Tommy, do you know what your dad does for a living?" ....The boy's reply was immediate. "He fills an innernational economic nish, providin' the private citizen with the means to resist fishist dictators -- like you!" "Memorized all that, did you?" asked Bodie....... "Yeah, I got a good membery.....And you're still a bunch of fishists." Babysitting Tommy:Rebelcat
	Suddenly tired of playing, he wraps his lips around me, pulls half of my length into his mouth, widening to accommodate my girth without difficulty. He closes around me, takes one last moment to savour the aroma, the flavours – and bites down. Hard, without mercy. The sensation is incredible, indescribable – my undoing. As I drift into dark moist oblivion, I am barely aware of the voice beyond, piercing the fog. “Oi, Bodie! What d’you think you’re doing? Doc said strict diet, sunshine, and that doesn’t include scoffing Swiss roll when you reckon nobody’s looking. Now give that here.” And, like that, the wet heat is gone, leaving me in pieces. Forbidden Pleasure:Bistokids
	Fight or flight, they call it, that tide of adrenaline drenching your nerves and then receding, leaving you tingling, on edge, ready for anything. And it's just filled Doyle again. That can't have been accidental......... That was his hand on my arse again, damn it. What is he playing at? .....Just mates, larking about, then? No. Doyle don't believe that for a minute. It's deliberate and it means something. Something more than just larking about. But what? Is Bodie trying to wind Doyle up? Trying to put him down? Trying to hint that Doyle doesn't measure up to Bodie's standards of masculinity? Doyle has already had the comments about the art classes..... Fight or Flight:ML Mead
	"Must be nice, having someone wait on you hand and foot... anticipating your every need..." "D'you suppose that's why he never married? Gets it all at work?" Doyle asked. "All?" Bodie's eyebrow went up, his expression half scandalized... "Can you imagine Betty...." "No. I can't!" Bodie shook his head. "Problem is, I can. Can see her kneeling there between his legs, sucking him off--very efficiently, mind you, our Betty is efficient in everything!--while he gets on with the paperwork! On the phone, perhaps, to the minister..." "You've a horrible mind, Bodie!" "Ah, but if it weren't for my horrible mind...." Building Justice:DVS
	"....if you aren't confident of him getting a yes, you must think that Doyle can't be relied upon to say no.....". Bodie rolled his eyes. "Doyle saying no doesn't worry me. Who Cowley will lumber me with when Doyle gets suspended for putting McCabe's dick in a pencil sharpener does." Speaking of Doyle...... Bodie went back to the surveillance. The light was on. "It's almost time." Fly on the Wall:Lezlie Conch
	Doyle puffed out his cheeks. 'Thirty years, though.' He lifted his near-empty glass. 'Here's to thirty more.' 'If we're lucky.' 'We're an aging population, mate. We could live to a hundred and fifty.' 'Not me, mate. My knees won't hold out that long.' 'So get knee replacements.' 'They don't last. Anyway, I don't want foreign objects inside my body....." Back at the Scarsdale: Maddalia
	Bodie frowned and sucked in his gut. It made less of a difference than he would have liked. He eyed Ray sullenly....still as slender as the day they were partnered together. Just wasn't right. "How come you're still so skinny?" "Genetics...... All the Doyle men have fast metabolisms." Bloody unfair to be born into the wrong family. Then again, he could still draw the ladies. If he put in the effort. Well, the more mature ones at any rate...... "Ray, you don't think I'm fat, do you?" At the plaintive tone, Ray looked up....examining Bodie with wary concern before breaking into a cheerful leer. "Looks good on you, it does. Nice and cushy when I'm rolling around on top of you." Not nearly reassuring enough to suit Bodie. "You do think I'm fat...." Cream Puffed Up:Caro Dee
	Doyle stands outside The Swan & Mitre and takes a couple of deep, fortifying breaths. This is ridiculous, he chides himself. He’s faced life-threatening situations more times than he can remember without hesitation, and yet he’s nervous about walking into a bloody pub for a drink. He should be feeling the cold, standing out here like a spare part, but nerves and adrenalin are proving to be an impressive form of insulation, and he’s thankful for the cooling chill of the night air..... His heart is beating so fast, Doyle wryly considers what a cruel twist of fate it would be if it chose this moment to give out....... The Meeting:Angelci5
	"I am not," Doyle said forcefully, a definite curl to his lip, "sleeping in that!" ..."What's wrong with it?" "What's wrong with it? Look at it!" He tentatively poked at the khaki-coloured sleeping bag with his foot, seemingly afraid that something was going to leap out and poke him back. "All good gear this," his partner protested. "Army surplus." "Yeah, but whose army? The bloody Kaiser's?" Camping For Beginners or My Guy.... Rope:Sally Fell
	"There's something green in here, Doyle." "Yeah. Avocado." "'ave a what?" "Avocado. Bacon and avocado. You like bacon." "Bacon and avocado?" "Try it; s'OK." I took a bite. Chewed a bit. Swallowed. Tried another bite. It wasn't bad, but I wasn't about to admit it. "Well?" "I suppose it'll keep me from starvin'. I don't suppose you bought a Mars bar as well?" Blind Obsession:Joules Taylor & Carol Good
	"Remember that massage parlour we raided the other day?" Bodie snickered. "Did you see Anson's face? When the bloke begged him to hold off just five more seconds?" "And Anson said, sarcastic, like a joke, 'shall I go out and come in again?'" "And Cowley said--!" Incoherent with laughter they finished it together, "'-- I think that's his line, don't you?'" Snorting, Bodie said, "And you always say the old man's got no sense of humour." Doyle said, "Think he ever uses a massage parlour?" "I'd rather not know......" Wonderful Tonight:Sebastian
	"Individual sponsorships are bad for communities. They create two classes of people, the ones who get money and the ones who don't." "Christ, Doyle! What do you expect me to do? Tell the little buggers, sorry mates, I'm cutting you off in order not to perpetuate the class system?" "....did this kid really carry his little brother to the aid station all by himself?" "....You could sponsor him," said Bodie. "...I've got an extra application form here.... You can try to fight it, but you know that face is going to stay with you...Makes your underprivileged inner city kids look like spoiled little brats, doesn't he?" "You're an arsehole, Bodie." Kofi's dark eyes seemed to be staring straight at Doyle.... Charity Begins at Home:Rebelcat

	I didn't know them, but of them: seen the two of them at HQ a time or two in passing; heard a variety of tales about them in the restroom, some taller than others...Didn't take much effort for me to peg Doyle's partner, Bodie, as a useful, elegant thug. Cool under all manner of pressure, steady as a rock under fire, and utterly dependable - unless his partner was threatened. You knew exactly where you stood with a man like Bodie at your back. You knew he'd be at your back come hell or high water....as long as his partner was safe...Doyle wasn’t the easy read Bodie was....fiery scruff to Bodie's cool elegance..... lion in skin-tight moleskins and red Kickers...I'd only seen Doyle a few times, but there was never anything consistent about him to pin down. Boa constrictor one moment, lion the next... Lone Dancer:istia
	Bodie wanted to close his eyes, look away, anything to deny the existence of the photo..... His heart pounded hard against his ribs, trying to escape and find Doyle perhaps. Bodie tried to clear his throat, get some saliva on his tongue. He was dry as dust and unable to think clearly. It was now or never, he had to turn the picture over and examine it for clues. Filter out the horrible image and act like someone who knew what he was doing.... Now he had to be analytical — Doyle, huddled in a corner, his face a mask of bruises and blood. One arm was held awkwardly to his body—broken, maybe? He was looking straight at the photographer, a familiar jut to his chin, obviously defiant and angry. <a href=">Worth a Thousand Words: Dawnwind
	Despite enjoying the fresh air, Doyle did not dawdle. He worried all the time he was out. When he got back, the butterflies that surfaced in his stomach during the ten seconds between him pressing the buzzer and Bodie answering were irritating in the extreme. He blamed Draper......Doyle did not appreciate seeing the reflection of his own, almost constant, yet largely unexpressed fears for the life of his partner — his lover — stark and unhidden in the pretty brown eyes of a man he hardly knew. Doyle didn’t know what thought was worse: that Bodie saw the appeal of those eyes, that man, as clearly as he did, or that Bodie might see Draper, the romantic, with all his outward displays of emotion, as the epitome of an ideal lover. Measuring Scars:Maddalia
	He could still remember. He could still see the body of Paul Coogan slumped against the wall. Dead. Dead from the blow that Doyle had delivered to him. Dead because he, Doyle, had allowed himself to be goaded into hitting the man. Doyle knew that he and Bodie had gone into see Paul Coogan with the intention of pushing the young man. Of maybe getting him to reveal something. Or even forcing him to hit out at one of them. And Coogan had..... Something Else To Think About:Darby Brennan
	The shadows that had worked for Maynard would work for them too, no matter what had happened to the light. They paused, waited again to make sure they’d not been spotted, gradually made their way to one of the side doors.... Too fast Bodie thought, not daring to say it yet again, it was all going too fast, and Doyle only just back on active duty... A corridor stretched darkly in front of them, lined with mostly empty coathooks, the occasional cupboard and what seemed like a hundred deadly doors....They should have come in at either end of the building - standard procedure, that - but he was strangely loathe to leave Doyle, and Doyle it seemed, had forgotten his rulebook too. Of course it was in the small print that CI5 ignored their own rules when necessary, but..... The Middle of It All:Slantedlight
	It had been close, but there had been closer. It had been tense, but he'd been in tighter situations, he and Bodie both, without this strange sort of thrumming along his nerves afterward. Odd flashes of the last few days kept painting themselves with an artist's eye for detail on the back of his eyelids. The skin on Bodie's back as the vigilante coppers ripped his shirt open, pressing him into the wall, preparing to whip him. The dark hair and vivid eyes against the cheap cover as he sniffed about having to share ... with a fella. The defiance stretching his features taut as he told the worst of the lot to go to hell; the way he'd come out of the darkness, flanking the men in the car park when they'd attempted to bully him. The length of him sprawled under the thin blanket in the very early morning light....The feel of those hands in his hair. Bloody hell. Grapevine:Brenda Antrim/Sue Castle (can also be found at the Circuit Archive)
	"You scared the hell out of me, Ray." And there it was, that dark look in Bodie's eyes, the elephant in the room. One of Dalí's monstrous elephants, all long, spindly spider legs, carrying the whole room on its back. Looking into Bodie's eyes was like falling from the fire escape all over again; Doyle turned away before he could hit bottom. "I know," he said. "I'm sorry." As suddenly as it had appeared, the intensity in Bodie's eyes faded. "It wasn't your fault." "No, but still..." Doyle closed his eyes and found it a struggle to open them again. He heard the armchair creak, and he looked up. Bodie was standing beside the sofa, between Doyle and the lamp. At this angle, in the dim light, he wasn't much more than a silhouette. "Do you want to go to bed?" Melt With You: Sarah K
	Doyle was not feeling sorry for himself at all. He just couldn't seem to convince anyone else that it was the truth. He could have got a date, even at the last minute, but he hadn't felt like going through the ritual. All right, so it was old-fashioned, but he just didn't feel right taking a girl to dinner on Valentine's Day unless it was a serious affair. If he and Ann had still been..... No, that was pointless conjecture. Even if he hadn't helped to arrest her father, they wouldn't have lasted this long. Too different, they had been. He was beginning to think about cooking dinner and having a drink - though not necessarily in that order - when the buzzer went off, a single long drone that was as familiar as it was unexpected... At Last:Sarah K
	Doyle was already there, the air of defiance suggesting he had been kept waiting and had yet to receive a reprimand. Cowley looked up at Bodie's arrival, immediately putting down the papers he was reading. This was not a good sign... "I have just been informed of your behaviour," he began, his voice low, each word spoken slowly and carefully but with an edge that suggested a terrible anger.."You were warned a month ago that I would not tolerate a repeat of your previous behaviour. Yet here you are. Again....." "It was my fault, sir." "Was it indeed?...And I suppose those bruises and that black eye were self-inflicted?" "I hit him, first and last. Bodie didn't raise a fist." "Only because I didn't have a chance to," Bodie shot back, unaware that Cowley was watching them closely, a keen look in his eye..... Fruit of the Spirit:Cherilyn
	He knew he should wait for Murphy and the rest of the squad - he’d left a message with Control - but he’d heard voices....Bodie taunting his captors. True to form, that, he smiled bitterly. In the mockery, he recognised Bodie’s last attempt to force the Russian’s hand and maybe create an opening to get away, to save himself. Doyle’s gut twisted with the realisation that Bodie thought he was on his own, that no one was coming to his rescue. Doyle knew that if the goading didn’t provide Bodie with a chance of escape, Bodie would up the stakes until the Russians killed him. The man would not allow himself to be taken out of Britain. The time to move was now....... The Stuff of Nightmares: Merentha13
	People got in to trouble underestimating Doyle. The way he flaunted his body, part street urchin, part Renaissance angel (he could imagine Ray’s filthy laugh if he told him that), most men dismissed him until they’d learned better, usually the hard way. Bodie hadn’t though. He might have been trained by the army but his instincts were honed in the jungle where dangerous things often came in camouflage. The squad had laughed when Bodie had asked Cowley to partner them but then they’d had to fight Ray and they’d stopped laughing..... By the Book:Draycevixen
	Bodie recognised Mad Dog’s tools of trade in one quick sweep of the room, knives of all shapes and sizes, a homemade stun gun bound with yellow and black electrical tape and a used syringe. Doyle’s watch and holster hung from a towel hook on the wall and his favourite denim shirt, button less and blood stained had been dropped casually in the corner together with lengths of bloodied cord and a piece of rolled up cloth which had been fashioned into a gag....The smell of fear and body fluids told Bodie all he needed to know. He’d seen enough. Murphy had been right but he had to see it, had to share Ray’s pain somehow. The sight of Mad Dog’s instruments had plunged Bodie straight back to the dark days of Africa when he learnt how really depraved the human mind could be......One Good Deed:ci5mates
	He listened. Voices from the front room, television turned too loud in the room off the kitchen. Footsteps overhead. With any luck that was Ray -- on his own. Soundlessly, he crossed the scratched lino. He had an angled view of the front room. Three of the usual suspects and the sandy man -- who was catching hell for not using The Signal. With the fourth man watching telly, that left one villain unaccounted for. And Ray...... Bullet With Your Name:JGL
	And there it was, the two of them allied against outsiders as always; as fucking always happened, even at the slightest, most inane provocation. My gut clenched at this bleeding familiar sign of how inextricable they were, walled in together by choice. By Bodie's choice, gallingly, and Bodie himself ever chinking cracks or gaps that appeared, from the minute to the lorry-sized, to make sure they stayed snug in their two-man fortress. In With the Old:One Year On:istia
	"'Eh, and who are you?" A slight touch of the Midlands disrupted the quiet..... He stared up at the figure. "Said, who are you.....?" "Just resting my eyes. Ignore me, and maybe I'll go away." "Didn't say at the Estate Agent's that this place came with its own ghost - though there was the mixup with the key. Look, you homeless or something?" "Don't be daft. If you're here to look at the apartment, then look while you can. Leave me be." Bodie leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes... Halcyon Days:golden_bastet
	I knew they were lovers from the moment I saw them. It wasn't that they were obvious about it--not the types to be pawing each other--but there was something in the way they acted together that marked them as a couple..... Doyle was the one you noticed first. He was all rumpled curls and slanted eyes and the life in him was like quicksilver. He glowed with it. He was the one who was the most immediately attractive. But the other presence was as strong in its own way. Bodie. The Heathcliff type... large, dark and brooding, and curiously handsome in a way that Doyle was not. I figured they were going to be trouble..... Crying for the Moon:Fanny Adams
	So this is how it’s going to end. The final whistle has blown signalling the finale to our season. A bloody, messy finish. Bodie down for the count. Me staring death in the face, literally. If the villain doesn’t end me, Cowley will. He’ll definitely have something to say about disregarding procedure, not to mention disobeying a direct order to wait for back up in order to save my partner. I can hear the old man now. But that doesn’t matter. What does matter is Bodie, slumped unconscious not two feet from me, head resting in a slowly growing puddle of blood. I’m sorry, mate. Didn’t get here in time....... A Date with a Bullet:Merentha 13
	All of a sudden he became aware that someone was standing in the archway, a dark silhouette. An unsettling image for a man who lived by shooting at shadows; although he knew it must be Bodie still he found it disturbing. "Okay, mate?" the shadow murmured..... Bodie's shadow stayed there a moment longer, head turned towards him eyelessly, then it slipped away. Doyle lay tensely, wakefully at the edge of the bed, and listened to Mary's giggles, the slaps and scuffles and whispers. Which, some time later, became either in his imagination on the edge of sleep or in reality whimpers, then moans; the rhythmic creak of the bed. Doyle touched himself restlessly, head turning to one side on the pillow....Feeling unreasonably alone, Doyle shut his eyes and blocked out the world. Wonderful Tonight:Sebastian
	[WARNING:SPOILERS!!] Words were coming through the phone, words that did not make sense; ‘car crash last night’, ‘everything possible done for Jillian, of course’, ‘such a tragedy for you, I do understand’ and then a seemingly well-rehearsed mumble about ‘viewing the body if desired’ and collecting the death certificate, and finally the click of the phone being replaced the other end and silence, silence in which Ray was staring forward, seeing nothing, still holding the phone. Bodie’s wife? This Week It Rained:Halotolerant
	...even if Bodie had not been watching him at the party, he watched him at other times, in other places. Not just when he had to watch him to synchronize some strategic move on a case, or to communicate something with a nod of the head......No, he just sometimes.....watched him. It made Doyle self-conscious. It made him feel warm. He found himself unconsciously inviting Bodie’s stare. Positioning himself. Trying to guess what Bodie was thinking or feeling. Trying to catch his attention. Silent Star:Fajrdrako (Elizabeth Holden)
	"I just think maybe we'd be better off apart," Doyle said quietly. "Me and Bodie," he added, though the explanation hadn't been necessary. Cowley took a deep breath and let out a sigh. He'd gone through enough soul searching when deciding what to do about Bodie and Doyle's relationship, when they'd requested a flat. He didn't want to be forced into playing the agony aunt to keep them together. "Don't be melodramatic, Doyle." "I'm not, sir." At least that showed some of the old Doyle fire. "I'm really not. But we've both been miserable since I've been back. I want out......I'm no use to you, whatever you say. And I'm worse than that, a liability...." In the Bleak Midwinter:PRZed
	It took a while for Doyle to realise he was actually awake... His breathing was calm and even but gradually, as awareness crept up, fear caught in his throat. He was tied, tied and drugged if the bitter taste in his mouth was any indication. With no idea of who had restrained him or why, he forced himself to hold the uncomfortable position, feigning unconsciousness a bit longer. If only he could control his thudding heart he might be able to pull it off..... Countless questions drifted through his sluggish mind but his immediate memory stayed frustratingly out of reach. Where the hell was Bodie? Were they together when this had happened? It was damn likely considering they spent just about every waking moment in each other’s company. A Trophy Highly Prized:Ci5mates
	"Aww, darling, you mean you don't want to give me a bath?" "...Given a choice in the matter, I'd take you out and chuck you in the duck pond. Easier by half." The pout was back. "You don't love me." "...Course I do. Just overawed is all. Not everyday I get my hands on tall dark and beautiful..." He paused, took a deep breath and nodded at Bodie, "You need a hand or can you manage?" "Raymond, the day I can't manage to get out of my own clothes is the day you can take me out and shoot me...." Bodie started struggling with his sling. Doyle managed to watch for nearly a minute before succumbing to the bitten lips and badly concealed winces. "Here," he said, pushing Bodie's hands away, "I won't tell if you don't." Betwixt and Between:Josey
	A small sound caught his attention. His hand on his pistol, he paused, head cocked. From behind the closed bedroom door where Ioan and Vitali slept, he could hear noises and a small thump. He cautiously walked to the door and ever so slowly turned the knob. With the light of a small bedside table, he could see two figures on the bed, writhing under the sheets, and he could hear soft groans and low moans. Blushing to his roots, he realized that the two young men were having sex. Eyes widening, Bodie carefully stepped back and s tarted to close the door, but the sound of a voice caught his attention. He didn't understand many of the words being spoken, but the tone was clear. The two men were in love....The murmur of voices faded away, replaced by soft moans once again. With his mouth dry and his heart pounding, he closed the door and leaned back on it, his eyes closed... State Secrets:LilyK