Field

[veronicaluv.livejournal.com]

Send For the Giant's Dance

Doyle hated feeling like this, the tight constriction around his chest, the panicked sensation of being unable to breathe, the muscles in his throat straining to get air flowing into his lungs. It felt too much like being shot, bringing back the hazy, terrifying memory of losing control of his body and the inability to make his limbs obey his order to move.

Yes, it was a lot like being shot only this time, instead of milk and blood soaking into his clothes, it was mud. Oozing into his ears, plastering his hair to his head, seeping beneath the edges of his clothing, it was black and cold and thick enough to keep his body buoyant but thin enough to drip into the corner of his mouth. His chest ached from the impact of the ball but he knew there wasn't any real damage done—unless he counted the possibly irreparable damage done to his dignity.

It didn't help that Bodie was standing less than five feet away, no doubt untouched by any mud splatter that was impertinent enough to fly his way. Though Doyle's eyes remained closed as he concentrated on getting his breath back, he could easily imagine the expression on Bodie's face. Initial concern would quickly give way to a grin that in turn would be swallowed by a look of mild interest that would be at odds with the wicked gleam in the dark blue eyes.

"Ray."

Doyle stifled a groan. He knew that tone of voice, almost meek in its delivery, disguising the amusement that Ray knew lurked beneath the surface. This was going to serve as fodder for Bodie's inventive sense of humour for weeks unless Doyle figured out a way to defuse the situation immediately.

The pain in his chest receding, Doyle drew in a careful breath. When it didn't devolve into a fit of coughing, he peeled open his eyes, annoyed that the mud in his eyelashes had dried enough to make it difficult. The sun was slanting low across the horizon to shine in his eyes and as he raised a hand to shield his face, a large dollop of mud landed on his nose.

"Ray?"

"Shut it, Bodie. Not one fucking word."

"Right. I'll just wait over here."

It took far more effort that Ray had expected. The mud clung to his back and shoulders like glue, weighting him down as he struggled into a sitting position, the obscene sucking noises accompanying this difficult feat garnering a smothered chuckle from Bodie that Ray chose to ignore.

He hadn't minded this assignment, not really, but that hadn't stopped him from whinging to Bodie the entire drive to Larkhill. Ongoing anti-terrorism training with other departments was an important part of their job, but rarely did it take them outside of the friendly confines of London. For Bodie, it was a homecoming, having trained at the Royal School of Artillery many years earlier, but for Ray, it meant bad food, lumpy cots, ungodly wake-up calls and many highly suspect stories of military heroics. But for all that, it also meant time with Bodie that didn't involve someone shooting at them or the fate of the free world or, most especially, the complications of female companionship.

When, exactly, he'd started marking time by the moments he had Bodie to himself, Ray really couldn't say. It'd been a gradual thing, an unsettled feeling when they were apart, a sense of contentment when they were together. It wasn't something he questioned or even thought about consciously, but the pleasure he received from watching Bodie stomp around the grounds with some of his old mates was undeniable.

It was only after manoeuvres had ended for the day and someone had brought out a football that Doyle's peace had been shattered in a very abrupt manner. Comfortably tired from rollicking around the fields in ill-fitting camo, he and Bodie had been heading toward the mess hall and making plans to meet up with the others at the pub in Durrington. Some of the lads had started kicking the ball around and one particularly enthusiastic participant had aimed his kick toward a makeshift goal—and had scored a Doyle, instead.

The ball had caught an unwary Doyle square in the chest, knocking him down a small incline that ended in an impressive pool of mud. His breath had flown out of him in a painful whoosh, leaving him able only to acknowledge the muttered apology thrown his way with a limp wave of his hand before the kicker and now mud-stained ball had rejoined the game. A considerably worse for the wear Doyle had been left behind, a snickering Bodie in loyal attendance.

Finally free of the mud's pulling effect on his arms, Doyle squinted up at Bodie, a reluctant smile playing around his lips.

"Yeah, all right," he muttered. He held out a filthy hand in Bodie's direction. "Give us a hand."

Bodie brightened and began to applaud enthusiastically, then faltered at the stare Doyle levelled his way.

"Well, it was a nice block," he offered weakly. He began to extend his hand, then pulled back, a considering look on his face. "Now, Ray, you know I'd do anything for you, but—"

"C'mon, quit messing about. Help me up."

Bodie backed up a few steps, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Trust you with my life, actually, but I'm not so sure you wouldn't use this as an excellent opportunity to get back at me for any number of previous sins."

Doyle sighed and swiped at his cheek with the back of his hand, leaving a smear of wet mud over already dried dirt. The prospect of tossing Bodie into the mud beside him hadn't occurred to him until his partner had brought it up, and any other time it may have had some appeal, but the cold mud was beginning to soak through his camo pants and numb his arse.

"Bodie, I swear I won't—"

"Must be something around here I can use." Bodie turned away, scanning the ground. "A long tree branch should work nicely, or, barring that, I can go back to the barracks and get some rope. Oh, and a Jeep. Should have you sorted in half an hour or so." Then, over his shoulder, "Don't go anywhere."

Doyle wasn't sure what possessed him in that moment and if pressed, would have only expressed admiration for the accuracy of his aim. The actual lump of mud that flew from his hand should've burst apart once airborne, but some reason, it kept its shape, landing with a squishy thud against Bodie's left shoulder and splattering across his neck.

Bodie froze, his hands rolling into fists as Ray watched wide-eyed from the vantage of his mud puddle. Pivoting slowly, Bodie turned back toward Ray, allowing him to get a good view of the chunks of mud decorating his ear and jaw. Suddenly inspired, Ray scrambled to his feet, slipping in the mud as he held out a placating hand, trying to keep the laughter bubbling inside him from escaping.

"Now, Bodie, no need to get angry, yeah? It's just a little mud."

Bodie lifted his hand to his chin and swiped at the sludge dripping on to his shirt. "Just a little mud," he repeated quietly. He looked at Doyle with a gentle smile full of teeth as he began to advance toward the edge of the puddle. Doyle, sensing more than a bit of menace in Bodie's bland expression, started to back up but immediately lost his footing and landed once again on his arse. The slick surface of the puddle acted like a launching pad and before he could prevent it, he slipped forward, his upraised legs connecting with Bodie's ankle and knocking him sideways into the puddle with a gooey splash that coated them both in black mud.

For a moment, there was nothing but early evening birdsong and the faint shouts of the impromptu football game that had moved up the field. Bodie had landed on his side, slightly further down the incline than Ray and angled away so that his left elbow was submerged in the slime. Doyle cleared his throat, desperately trying to suppress the laugh that was begging to be let out.

"Um, Bodie? All right, mate?"

Instead of answering, Bodie rolled onto his stomach with a loud squelch, facing Doyle with an expression that didn't bode well for Ray's immediate future. Ray bit his lip and then smiled, eyebrows raised as he hoped to appease the worst of Bodie's temper.

That smile vanished when Bodie's hand shot out, his cold, wet fingers wrapping around Ray's ankle and dragging him down. Before he could react, Bodie was straddling him, pinning his wrists into the soggy soil.

"Doyle, you bastard," Bodie gritted out between clenched teeth.

"Bodie," Doyle began, but couldn't continue. Bodie's patrician features were smeared with mud, greatly impeding his attempt to be intimidating. Even with the cold mud that now plastered Ray from ears to toes, the bulk of an irate but equally filthy Bodie easily negated the ferocity of Bodie's reaction and he began to laugh.

Bodie's expression darkened, his grip on Doyle's wrists tightening. Unperturbed, Doyle laughed up at him, making no attempt to free himself. Within seconds, Bodie was fighting a smile of his own, the corners of his eyes crinkling with reluctant amusement as he began to snicker before finally giving in to a full-throated roar.

"Damn you, Ray," he gasped. "This isn't funny!"

"Speak for yourself, you great, clumsy oaf!"

Bodie gawped at him. "I'm clumsy?"

"There, you admit it!"

That set them off again and the moment lengthened as their laughter faded away in fits and starts, though their eyes remained locked on each other. Part of Doyle realised that he should've put up more of a fight, but a greater portion of his attention was focussed on the sudden nearness of Bodie's face to his. Bodie's weight was pushing him deeper into the mud but it was also eliminating any space between them, the sticky mud welding their bodies together.

It should've been uncomfortable or even embarrassing, but Ray was strangely intrigued by this moment of enforced intimacy. Having been physical with each other for years, it wasn't Bodie's proximity that was sending little frissons of heat through Ray but the startled, speculative expression in the dark blue eyes as they gazed down on Ray's mouth.

"Reckon we should head back?" Ray whispered. "Before they send out a search party?"

"What?" Bodie lifted his head and blinked at Doyle. "Oh. Right."

They struggled to their feet, more of a hindrance to each other than a help as they fought to remain upright. Bodie was the first to make it to dryer ground and he offered Doyle his hand which was accepted with a shared grin. An hour later they were damp but clean, sharing a raucous table with a group of RAF officers and detailing exploits that grew more improbable as the night wore on. Training resumed the next day and then they returned to London, but Doyle never quite forgot the mud and the hint of something new in Bodie's warm gaze.

Comments

[heliophile-oxon.livejournal.com]

Ooh, mud-wrestling B&D! This was lovely; you get all the detail so perfect - and unobtrusively so, at that - so the reader can really see (and hear) every moment. Their reactions, from anger to laughter, really ring true. And when they got back to London ....?

[msmoat.livejournal.com]

Well now, that's nicely tantalizing! And, dang, the time zones are getting to me and I've got to go to bed now. I shall look forward to the others in my tomorrow!

I like the mud, and the more or less accidental sharing of it, and the intriguing something new. *g* I do love discovery moments. Thank you!

[przed.livejournal.com]

That was far too much fun. Naughty Bodie for laughing at Doyle. And naughty Doyle, for getting back at him.

[sc-fossil.livejournal.com]

Oh, happy day! A Veronica bit. Cool. I love B&D mud-wrestling. It was fun seeing Doyle that way, then Bodie getting into it as well. I could so see them flopping about in the mud. And that hint of something new brings a smile to my face.

Thanks. (And there's more? Woohoo!)

[erushi.livejournal.com]

There's something lovely about starting the day with mud-wrestling lads. *g* This was wonderfully fun - I loved Bodie laughing at Doyle! - and with such a sense of promise at the end.

Thanks for this!

[byslantedlight.livejournal.com]

The lads mud wrestling - of course! *vbg* *runs off to read more*

[snailbones.livejournal.com]

Now there's a lovely mental picture you've given me *g* Squishy lads playing in the mud. Thank you for the huge smile.

[gilda-elise.livejournal.com]

Oooh, nice beginning! Just a hint of what's to come and so very them.

[andreathelion.livejournal.com]

lovely and what a picture, mud wrestling lads *g* that was just so 'them'.
Thank you!!

[veronicaluv.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I would've loved to see that - all that mud in Ray's hair and Bodie just being disgusted *g*. Thank you for reading and letting me know you enjoyed it!

take care - V

[callistosh65.livejournal.com]

This is absolutely gorgeous. Love the frisson here between them, and all that mud wrestling is just.. fun to read:))
He held out a filthy hand in Bodie's direction. "Give us a hand."
Bodie brightened and began to applaud enthusiastically, then faltered at the stare Doyle levelled his way. I laughed aloud at this, wonderful!!

[draycevixen.livejournal.com]

Well it's about time someone put the *lads* in the mud wrestling pits for a change! *eg*

Love the whole "squelchiness" of it, the very tactile descriptions and a dawning awareness in Bodie's eyes is a damn good thing too!

Thank you! :D

Very late but catching up

[saintvic.livejournal.com]

I thought this scene worked very well in capturing the current relationship between the lads and the potential for more. I think my fav bit was this exchange

"Damn you, Ray," he gasped. "This isn't funny!"

"Speak for yourself, you great, clumsy oaf!"

Bodie gawped at him. "I'm clumsy?"

"There, you admit it!"

as it suits them wonderfully.