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discoveredinaljOf Trees and Needles Part I
Of Trees and Needles (Part II)
“All units go.” Cowley’s voice was firm.
No time for any more thinking. Bodie opened the car door and dashed out into the rain. His mind fleetingly registered the cold and wet, but only because he couldn’t see quite as clearly as he knew he would need to. He held his rifle loosely at his side as he reached the gates, not thinking as he pushed, sure in his subconscious that Ray would have done his job and cut the power. The gates resisted and Bodie baulked, suddenly winded although he knew not why. “Fucking…” He pushed again more frantically and the gates finally gave in and opened smoothly. He dragged them both wide, hearing the rumble of Murphy's truck coming up behind him, and then he was running for the open door, jumping in the passenger seat as they heard a shot fired in the distance.
Tension crackled as they roared up the long curved driveway. Headlights swept across the curve and then a car was bearing down towards them from the house, intent on escaping the area. Murphy pulled hard on the steering wheel and spun the truck to a halt, blocking the road. Bodie was out even before it completely stopped, crouching by the path, sighting in the tyres of the oncoming car. He blinked rapidly to see through the rain and fired - once, twice. The car swerved and ran off the road, through the bushes. Shouts were heard over the rain and shapes jumped out of the car, gesturing wildly.
“Drop your weapons!” Murphy shouted, as a gun shot broke the air.
‘Fat chance’ Bodie thought as he ran from the path and threw himself behind a tree, leaning against it panting as he reloaded. He glanced around when he heard answering fire from CI5 - that was Murph’s Browning, he’d bet on it. A bullet bit a chunk of bark from the tree as he whipped back behind it, waited until he heard Murph’s covering gunfire and then fired himself, aiming for the car’s bonnet.
Once, twice.
He ducked back, reloaded, and then fired again. The car exploded into flame, the last shot right where Bodie wanted it. He leaned back against the tree, the grounds suddenly illuminated by the fire, easy for CI5 men hidden in position to see their targets.
‘Oh there’s a duck pond’, he thought distractedly as screams and shouts came from behind. Murphy could clear up now, he was needed elsewhere. He threw down the empty rifle, checked his hand gun, counted five, and then dashed forward, using the trees along the drive for cover. Another shot sounded from the vicinity of the house and he redoubled his efforts, jumping a small wall and running across the front lawn, trying to stop himself slipping on the wet grass.
The front door was open, light spilling out of the hallway as a man dashed out towards a car parked on the drive. Bodie put on an extra burst of speed and shot from the darkness, leaping the car bonnet and throwing himself at the man, who looked up in terror, as if a panther had burst out of the night. There was barely a struggle, the cold steel of Bodie’s gun pressing into the man’s neck, demanding obedience.
Bodie cuffed his hands around one of the pillars on either side of the front door. “Don’t go away,” He tapped the man’s shoulder and cautiously edged around the front door, drawing his hand gun on hearing the sounds of a fight, all senses on high alert.
The empty hallway yawned at him, but there were noises coming from a door to the right. Bodie slid past it and stepped into a large kitchen; gun trained on two men hammering against a closed door that was close to splitting.
Something heavy swung down on his gun arm and pain ricocheted up his body.
“Fuck!” he swore as his gun clattered under the table, and he ducked and moved backwards, missing the killing blow aimed at his neck. He turned and grabbed his attacker around the waist, propelling him back into a wall unit which rocked violently.
A wall unit that held all the knives.
‘Oh, great move Bodie’, he thought to himself as blades clattered down around them. His opponent saw his chance and grabbed a particularly nasty carving knife, slashing the air where Bodie had been standing not a second before.
The disturbance had caused the other two men to pause their hammering on the door and this was all the cue Ray needed to swing it open. He used the door lintel to heave himself up and delivered a flying kick at the man closest to him, making him crash into the far wall and slide down silently.
Ray’s kicks could be deadly.
Bodie didn’t dare take an eye off his man with the carving knife but he felt suddenly light headed with relief at the proximity of his partner, who by all accounts was giving someone back there a real good pasting. It made him grin at the knife wielder, who was taken aback at such a reaction from the man he was threatening to turn into a watering can. His knife arm wavered and Bodie grabbed it, bringing it forward as he slammed his back into the man’s chest, to make him drop the knife.
“What kept you?” Ray sounded winded as he ducked a wild punch from the second assailant still standing.
“Oh you know… Had to... Wash me hair…” Bodie twisted the arm viciously as he spoke; finally hearing the knife clatter to the ground, then drove his elbow into the man’s chest.
Ray managed to break the arm lock he was in and turned, punching the man hard in the face, feeling the crack of bone. The man fell to his knees, cradling his nose as blood leaked down onto the floor.
“That’s for Diane, remember her? Well she remembered you alright. Before she OD’d that is.”
He grabbed the man’s hair, bringing his head up but saw the fight had gone out of him, so let go and grimaced at the blood on his hand. Looking over, he saw Bodie straighten as his man slumped unconscious on the floor. Ray indicated that they should continue going through the house and Bodie nodded and stooped to reach for his gun, moving ahead as Ray swept his arm majestically forward.
The hallway was still empty, front door swinging open in a light breeze. They moved stealthily to an open door on the left.
“Where’s your gun?” Bodie hissed as they rounded an empty dining room. Tasteless statues leered at them as opulent chandeliers glittered from the ceiling. No other doors, no exits.
“Guardhouse.” Ray whispered back. “There were four of them. One of them snatched it. No bullets left anyway.”
“Four!” Bodie glared at Ray as they went on through the house.
Ray understood that the glare wasn’t directed at him but at CI5’s surveillance team. He guessed that James (a quiet man who practically lived in the buggy boo) would get it in the neck at some point. That’s what Ray liked best about this partnership; they were equally pissed off at the things that mattered, like saving his skin for instance. He drew up short as Bodie in front of him held up a hand in caution. They both rounded the next room to see a man crouching in front of a blazing fire.
“Back away from the fire and hands on your head. Slowly.” Bodie held his gun on Sir Henry Langton, who straightened and turned to stare at Bodie. He slowly moved away from the fire and mockingly raised his hands. Ray went over to the fire; a quick glance saw the papers merrily burning in the breeze. Too late to retrieve them. He glared at the man in front of him, whose exterior was barely ruffled, despite the sounds of violence going on around him.
“You won’t get away with this, I have exceedingly good lawyers. They’ll want to know why you threatened an unarmed man in his own house.” Langton’s voice was polished and smooth.
“Unarmed?” Bodie scoffed incredulously. He heard Murphy’s truck draw up outside and hoped to God the good guys were in it. Rapid footsteps, and Cowley burst unceremoniously into the room, drawing up short at the scene in front of him.
“Ah, Sir Langton. How good to see you here tonight. Most fortuitous.” Cowley was at his most polite, most icy and therefore most dangerous. Murphy stood behind him, gun out and RT held to his ear. He listened and then nodded at Cowley whose expression went from polite mask to what was almost a smirk.
Sir Langton’s eyes flicked from one to the other. “I won’t fall for all that Mr Cowley. I know my rights.”
“And what rights are those then?” asked Murphy cheerfully, pulling a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket. “Turn around will you. No sharp movements my dear fellow…” He efficiently cuffed the blustering man and turned him back around to face Mr Cowley, who looked at his watch as a clock chimed loudly from the hallway.
“I do believe it is Christmas Eve. However, I don't believe it will be a particularly merry Christmas for you, Sir Henry. No, not merry at all.” He gestured for Murphy to lead him away as the sound of police sirens drew closer and pulled his RT out of his pocket to speak with Anson.
“Doesn’t even have a Christmas tree up.” Ray looked around the room.
“I bet he has a few needles though.” Bodie couldn’t resist, chuckling to himself as he got a rather dour look from Cowley and an amused snort from his partner.
Christmas Eve
Ray leaned on the filing cabinet watching Cowley speaking on the telephone. He had been summoned by Betty to see the controller but ever since he was ushered inside George had been on the blower. He shifted position slightly so he could see the clock on the wall, and tried not to let his exasperation show on his face but impatient fingers betrayed him, tapping an angry staccato on top of the cabinet. George Cowley looked at him over the rim of his glasses, Ray instantly stilled. God he felt like he was back at school.
“They're rescinding the OBE? Well, well…”
Ray tuned out slightly and let his eyes drop. Christ he was knackered. And that bastard had fetched him a good one, right in the ribs. He ran a hand along his jaw line, feeling the roughness of stubble, pausing to touch his lip, which was sore as well. He licked it, grimacing slightly. Bastards…
“Of course Minister. What’s that? Why, yes… thank you. It was a good team effort; the police are due their praise. No, we mustn’t forget them… Well good will to some men… Yes. You too.” George Cowley laughed rather self-consciously at the last few words and put the phone down.
“Well that is rather a turn up for the books. This department doesn’t often get a ‘well done’ from ministerial circles. However, what that will mean for next year’s budget…” He looked across at Ray slouching by the cabinet, now examining his knuckles with a frown.
Ray realised that his full attention was now required and straightened, looking across to Cowley.
“You wanted to see me? Sir?” he added belatedly.
George Cowley looked at him shrewdly. "Sir" was always an after-thought with this one. Not that Doyle didn't show respect, but he wasn’t a man to automatically assume that rank equalled respect; you had to earn it in his eyes, on his own personal scale of merit. Rigid in some ways, flexible in others, hot-headed and not afraid to say what he thought…
“Yes Doyle. Your report…” Cowley indicated the papers on his desk. Doyle’s eyes flicked across; the desk was covered with reports, MI6’s reports could’ve been under that lot. He felt a sinking feeling… He knew what this was about but tried to stay nonchalant.
“That was a very scathing attack on this department, paragraph seven I think it was. Would you like to comment further?”
“I just wanted it noted that’s all. For the record. I didn’t think it was necessary.”
“We needed her information.”
“We could have got it another way.”
“We needed quick results.”
“We still should have had access to all the facts first!” Ray’s voice was louder now. He checked himself but still went on passionately. “If we'd known she was likely to re-use we could have had someone watching out for her.”
“How do you know we didn’t?” Cowley’s voice was calm.
Ray stared at him and then narrowed his eyes. “So we did…?” He paused and then set off on a new tack. “Who? They obviously weren’t doing a good enough job!”
“If an addict, and do not lose sight of that Doyle, for that is what she was, chooses to re-use then they will. She gave our man the slip in Dalston and the address she went to was an unregistered squat. We offered her access to a hospital programme that could have helped her, but she didn’t want our help.” Cowley was back at his desk, sifting through the papers, trying to put them in some sort of order. He looked up again. “You would have preferred us to take her by force – to arrest her, to lock her up? Would she have thanked us for that?”
“She’d have been alive.” His reply was quick but the passion had gone and he cuffed his nose. Damn reason and logic…
Cowley finished straightening his papers and looked at the silent man, contemplating the floor in front of him. He then glanced at the clock and came to a decision.
“Come on man; let’s see if we can find that errant partner of yours. And Murphy is probably in need of a drink too. I asked Ted to open ‘that cage’ as you call it a bit earlier than usual. It is Christmas after all.” Cowley hit Ray briskly on the arm and held open his office door. Ray looked at him for a moment and then nodded tiredly and walked through. Yes Christmas, it was at that.
********
Bodie leaned backwards on his chair, balancing it on two legs. He steadied himself with the table and then let it go, thumping on the floor. Anson looked at him, took his cigar out of his mouth as if to say something and then decided against it. He did however reach behind him to where Murphy was snoring on the settee to whack him on the shoulder.
“Wassit? What? Oh gerroff.” Murphy shifted into the settee and settled back down again, this time snore free.
“Leave him be Paul, he’s knackered.” Bodie steadied himself on the table again and pushed his chair back. Maybe he could get it to balance further this time…
Anson removed his cigar. “We’ve all been working hard Bodie.”
Bodie’s chair thumped back down again in answer. He couldn’t be bothered to reply, he was tired, bored and wanted to go home. He couldn’t remember what his home looked like but he thought it would probably be quite nice if he could ever get there to find out. “C’mon Ray,” he growled under his breath and sighed. There was a boxed Christmas cake on the table he had been manfully ignoring ever since he came into the VIP room all of ten minutes ago. Might as well cut himself a slice if all he was doing was waiting about…
The door banged open and a crowd of agents jostled through, Jax, Lucas, McCabe, Susan, Sally, Macklin… Macklin! Bodie almost choked on his cake, trying to quickly swallow it before…
“Already started with the Christmas excess then Bodie? Remember you have a re-training session coming up in January, don’t over do it like last year. Only the geese should get fat!” Macklin clapped Bodie’s shoulder hard as he came round the table, making him rock forward. Man didn’t know his own strength. He smiled sarcastically at the blond trainer, who was now staring agog at the twinkling Christmas tree.
“Now Cowley said this had to be seen to be believed… I'll have to get Towser over.”
Bodie shuddered. Ye Gods, not Towser. He pushed the cake box further away, twisting just in time to see Cowley and Ray finally make an entrance. He stood up and called over, “C’mon mate, we going?”
“The bar? Thought you’d never ask.” Macklin clapped his shoulder hard again causing him to sway forward, and started motioning to the others in the room. “George – did you agree it with Ted? Look’s like Bodie’s paying.”
“What?” Bodie suddenly found himself surrounded by colleagues, each apparently dying of thirst and anxious to hustle him down to CI5’s private bar. “Ray!” Bodie implored as he was pushed past, but Doyle held his hands up in submission, smile threatening to break like the sun from behind the clouds.
“Well thanks a lot mate! Just remember who’s giving you a lift home! Oi!” Bodie yelled down the corridor at Ray, who was leaning round the corner of the door, waving a fond farewell at him. They all disappeared in a rowdy mass around the corner and Ray smiled and went to collect his coat from the VIP room, catching Cowley chuckling in amusement at the tree.
“Do you like it then?” Ray nodded up at it.
“Eh? Oh aye, one for the books that is. I wondered where that picture went. Still, at least it appears to have had two good homes.” He threw a look at Ray and then glanced to where Susan was wrapping her scarf around her neck. “You coming Miss Fisher?”
Susan was taking a rather long time to gather her belongings and now seemed slightly abashed. Ray looked at her and then turned a slow circle to where Murphy was still blissfully slumbering. There was a faint rosy glow on Susan's cheeks when he turned back to face her, although she met his eyes steadily enough. “Yes, I’ll be there, I was just…”
“Yes, wake Murphy there will you.” Cowley walked to the door and looked down at him. “How anyone can sleep through that herd of elephants…” He muttered as he left the room.
“I’ll leave him to your tender ministrations then,” Ray said mischievously, knowing that Susan had a soft spot for Agent 6.2. He couldn’t think where exactly she kept it though, there was nothing soft about Susan Fisher as far as he could see. Left ear perhaps? Behind her ankle? Little finger? He smiled as he followed George Cowley down the corridor.
******
In the cage Ted was using his skills as a diplomatic bar man to serve the thirsty so and so’s from CI5’s finest. Bodie stood at the bar, a look of chagrin on his face as he handed over his money. There goes Christmas, he thought mournfully as pints distributed themselves over his head and Ted came back with a sympathetic smile on his face and a handful of exceedingly small change. Bodie made a face at it and poured it into the Cancer Charity collection box. “Ruins the line of my jacket!” He smiled and turned to lean on the bar, taking a sip of his pint. Tired as he was, it tasted divine.
“Where’s mine then?” Ray was at his side, also looking tired but certainly more cheerful than when he was writing his report. He'd had a face like thunder then.
“Judas!” Bodie turned back to the bar and raised his hand to get Ted’s attention. Ted nodded at him and went to serve Lewis instead. ‘Happens every time’ thought Bodie in resignation.
“He does that on purpose now, you know.” Ray looked over to Ted. “He knows it winds you up.”
“Why would he want to do a stupid thing like that? The last person that wound me up ended on the…Oh hi Ted. A beer for the boy will ya? And put this one on Cowley’s tab.”
“The Major will sting you for that one soon enough, Bodie.” But Ted was smiling and handed a brimming pint to Ray, who took a sip with his eyes closed. He set it back down and wiped his mouth appreciatively, wincing slightly at his lip. “Boy? You’ve got a nerve.”
Bodie was back leaning on the bar, drinking his beer. “Smaller than me.”
“Flippin’ older than you.” Ray poked him in his side.
Bodie buried his smile in his glass as Murphy came up and nodded over Bodie’s head to get Ted’s attention. Within seconds a pint was handed over, and Bodie threw a disgusted glance over his shoulder at Ted and then turned back to Murph.
“You got the day off tomorrow then?”
“Got four days off actually.” Murphy was almost preening. “On account of my good work, the Cow said. Management material, that’s me.”
“Management? You can ‘ave it.” Ray said strongly.
“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be y’know. Comes with its own rules, its regulations.” Bodie pointed out.
“Its own whisky tab.” Ray muttered as Cowley picked up his glass of pure malt from Ted. Bodie and Murphy sniggered as Cowley made his way over, distracted by Macklin.
“Oh no not him, don’t bring him over…” Bodie groaned into his drink.
“What, Macklin?” Ray raised his head and peered over. “When we got him? First week isn’t it? That’s just great that.”
“That’s when you’ve got your refresher? I tell you, the Cow just doesn’t like you anymore. He likes me. Mine’s not until the second week. Proves it.” Murphy was smug.
“That proves nothing!” Bodie pulled a face.
“It just means the Cow wants us fit as a fiddle, in top form straight away. He’ll let you stay fat for a bit, not as important.” Ray tried not to chuckle but couldn’t help it at Murphy’s quick glance down at his belly.
“Sir.” Bodie straightened slightly as Cowley and Macklin came to join them. Murph rubbed his stomach and glared at Ray before smiling at the two men. “Drink?” He indicated the bar.
Macklin held out an admonishing hand. “Not for me, one and one only. Can never let your guard down.”
“Not even on Christmas?” Ray suddenly looked round to the clock. Hmm, he was pushing it a bit…
“Especially not at Christmas. You think the villains take Christmas off?” Macklin eyed Ray keenly and Ray suddenly felt like he was being sized up ready for the roasting tin. Shit, roasting tin. Where was his roasting tin?
“Get hurt did you?” Macklin was at his elbow now, looking at the way Ray was frowning.
“Eh? Oh no, well yes, but not really… AGH!”
Macklin withdrew his finger from where he had poked Ray in the ribs. “Ribs again? You have to watch for that.”
“Did you see Willis, Doyle?” Cowley was now interested as well, damn him. Ray glared at both of them and rubbed his side.
“I don’t need to see Willis, my ribs are fine. They were fine.” He looked at Macklin in reproach but the man had moved on, and was now giving Bodie the eagle eye.
Bodie felt the scrutiny and endeavoured to jump in before any more remarks comparing him to a fat bird were made in this crowd’s earshot, “So Mack… Brian, what are you doing for Christmas then? Any plans?”
Macklin blinked in surprise at the question. “Working. It’s Towser’s little girl’s first Christmas, couldn’t let him take that shift.” Macklin coughed in embarrassment at the astonished silence. “Well, just need to have a quick word with Lucas, have a good Christmas everyone.” He backed away as Ray, Bodie and Murphy eyed each other in disbelief. Fancy finding out their trainer was human. And that the tank had a little girl!
Cowley chuckled at their expressions. “Well, gentlemen. Happy Christmas.” He made to move on.
“What are you doing tomorrow, sir?” Murphy asked.
Cowley turned back and suddenly looked a little older. “As Brian says, villains don’t appreciate the festivities. I expect I shall be here with the other agents working this shift. That is, if someone hasn’t eaten all our Christmas cake, I did think the VIP room was a bad place to leave it, even boxed as it was.” He glanced sharply at Bodie’s face and moved away, hiding his smile.
Murphy turned his dark head towards Susan who had slunk in beside him, and Bodie looked up from where he had once again slouched on the bar to find Ray decisively drinking up.
“C’mon.”
“Not getting another?”
“Nah, got things to do.” Ray scratched his face and watched as Bodie finished his beer. They said their goodbyes, and pushed through the crowd to walk down to where Bodie had parked the Capri.
“What you got to do then?” Bodie opened the door, sat in the driver’s seat and leaned over to open Ray’s door.
“Secret,” said Ray as he sat down. Bodie glanced at him and pouted slightly, then started the car with a roar and squealed the tyres out of the car park.
“What secret?” he asked as they sped down the high street.
Ray tapped his nose by way of an answer. Bodie eyed the car mirror and overtook a bus, slipping in behind a VW Camper van.
“What’s the secret then?” he asked again.
Ray just stared levelly at him.
“Alright, alright don’t tell me then. Your own partner. See if I care.” Bodie was always good natured in defeat.
“What you doing tomorrow Bodie?”
“Eh?” Bodie put his foot down slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, did you make any plans?”
“For what?”
Ray was exasperated. “For Christmas! That thing we celebrate over here. You know, Christ’s birth and all that? You brought up in a cave or something?”
“Cage actually. Gilt and brass. All mod cons…”
There was a silence in the car as Ray mentally kicked himself for his unthinking comment and considered whether he really wanted to invite Bodie round or not. Ever since the day they'd put up the Christmas tree it had been on the tip of his tongue to ask the silly sod round, show him what a good Christmas could be like. But then there was the drugs case and he'd had no time to think, let alone plan a day of niceties. Now he had, what? Two hours left of shops open? And Bodie was an irritating annoying sod. He kept quiet and balanced his options as Bodie drove along Camden high street.
“No plans mate, not this year. Don’t really celebrate it anyway. Never been a day of wonder…” He broke off suddenly and pulled into a quieter street, leaving the hustle of Camden behind him.
It was that voice that did it, Ray decided. Not a voice of regret or self pity, but the voice of someone that never expected anything at all. They pulled up outside his block, Bodie kept the engine running.
Ray put his hand on the door handle. “Come round tomorrow Bodie. We might as well have a good Christmas for once.” He was slightly unnerved by Bodie’s surprised silence. “Well that’s if, uh, well, that’s if you want to that is…”
“You’re on.” Bodie grinned widely and shot an imaginary gun at him. “You cooking? I am definitely there. What time?”
“Oh uh… Anytime. Don’t matter what time if it’s just us does it? Anytime.” Ray was grinning as well now, suddenly undeniably cheerful.
“Well that’s a… Ok then. See you tomorrow” Bodie almost choked on what he was unthinkingly about to say.
Ray just smiled broadly. He knew what had been on the tip of Bodie’s tongue and it amused him no end. “I guess it is. See you then. And bring some beers!” He hopped out of the car and ran up the stairs to his building. Bodie was still grinning as he wheel spun away. Little toad!
Christmas Day
Bodie rang the doorbell and jangled Ray’s door keys in his pocket. He felt such an occasion as a day off… Ok, as a Christmas Day off, deserved some sort of formality. Bottles clanked in the two carrier bags he was holding.
He had actually felt great when he woke up, as though he had something nice to look forward to. Of course, a good night’s sleep had done wonders; he couldn’t remember when he had last felt so shagged out without the shag. He found himself actually humming whilst shaving, leaning forward in the bathroom mirror to check out a minute cut above his eyebrow. Maybe it was just because he liked Ray’s flat better. His own was cold and cheerless compared to the artificial gaiety of the shops when he had finally let himself in yesterday. Sort of bleak. That almost made him laugh; he remembered reading Bleak House as a boy, thought it was a brilliantly apt description back then. Bit ironic that he’d grown up to live in places that had the same feel to them. Sort of austere, he thought as he had put down his shopping and fiddled with the heating. Sort of boring, he thought later as he sleepily eyed the telly and kicked his shoes off under the table. But this morning, improbably, the sun had shone briefly through his bedroom window, frost covered the roofs of nearby houses and a sparkle of something was in the air. Not snow he thought, looking up. Just something.
“Why hello.” He said by way of a reply into the intercom.
Ray’s voice sounded breathless through the buzzer. “Yeah yeah Bodie. Push.”
Bodie did and jogged up the stairs to Ray’s flat. He could smell dinner. Mmm roasting turkey…
Ray was holding the door open, looking a little ragged round the edges. He laughed as Bodie held up the two clanking carrier bags. “Will that be enough for one day?” He hit the right note of mock horror and ushered his partner grandly inside. “Happy Christmas my dear fellow.”
“There’s more in the boot, and Happy Christmas to you too… Is dinner ready yet? And you have pine needles in your hair.” Bodie grinned as he walked past Ray, who shut the door behind him whilst raking his head viciously with the other hand.
“Got hours yet, the key to a good Christmas dinner is in the preparation. Which we didn’t get time to do, thanks to CI5 and all who sail in her. And you’re early.” Ray dogged his steps, keen to see Bodie’s face as he entered the living room. He grinned widely at the surprised look. This was worth it.
Bodie turned in a circle. “Oh hey… When did you do all this?”
Ray rubbed his nose embarrassedly. “Oh it’s been up a while…” He decided not to elaborate further on the mad dash around Camden he had done yesterday and the way he had acquired the real Christmas tree. Having a CI5 ID worked wonders although the shop was probably still wondering why the tree had to be impounded.
Bodie walked around the flat, looking at the decorations slung around the room. Slung was a good description actually; Bodie had a good idea of what Ray had been up to after he dropped him off yesterday. He lowered his head so his grin didn’t get too out of hand and then smiled up at Ray who was looking a bit shame faced. “It’s great. Really great.”
Ray cheered up. “Yeah not bad. Good old Woolies…”
Bodie was now standing by the Christmas tree. Not quite a 9ft monster but a good size all the same, twinkling with lights. He raised his eyebrows at the few wrapped presents underneath and poked one with his shoe.
“One for me under there?”
“Depends whether you’ve been a good boy.” Ray tried to stay serious but a smile twitched around the corners of his mouth.
“Oh I see, like that is it? Best not raise me hopes then.” Bodie stepped backwards slightly and peered at the rest of the tree. He grabbed hold of one bauble, swung it round so George Cowley was looking at Ray and giggled to himself as he swung it back. “In case we forget father’s face eh? And where’s your homemade pine whatsits then? Or is it just artistic needle scattering?” The carpet around the tree was covered in dropped pine needles.
“Oh leave off. I’ve done my creative bit for this year.” Ray gestured around the room. “Make yourself comfy, TV guide is there, thought you could choose the day’s entertainment. Got to check on the old bird.”
“Old bird? You got Cowley’s girlfriend in there?” Bodie yelled after him and flumped down on the settee, kicking his shoes off under the coffee table. This was more like it, warm, welcoming, beer and food. And telly. Perfect really, no hassle about meeting the bird of the moment's dodgy relatives, no putting on a show, here he could just relax and enjoy himself. With that aim in mind he delved in one of the carrier bags at his feet and pulled out two cans, one of which he placed on the coffee table. The other he carried through to the kitchen, with the carrier bags.
Ray was opening cupboards and pulling out pans, and he turned to regard Bodie with suspicion. “It’s not ready yet and don’t go eating anything!”
Bodie clanked the beers at him by way of reply.
“Oh right, yeah, give ‘em here, I’ll put them in the fridge…” Bodie passed him the bags and the other can. Ray looked at it before opening. “I guess the sun is past the yard arm somewhere in the world.”
”And it’s Christmas.” Bodie nodded wisely.
“Yeah – cheers! Now piss off!” Ray flicked the ring pull at him and turned back to his chopping board, taking a healthy swallow of beer as he did so.
“Charming!” Bodie sniffed the air appreciatively and padded out of the kitchen, flopping down on the settee again. He drank from his beer and, pulling the TV Guide towards him, ran his eyes lazily down the listings. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Ray liked all that sci-fi stuff… He found a pen on the coffee table and carefully circled it.
“What film's on?” Ray shouted from the kitchen.
“Ermm…. BBC1’s got some kids' film, Disney...” He tailed off, working down the listings. “Got Loophole in the evening, God that’s crap, went with a girl to see that at the cinema and fell asleep…”
“Whassat?”
“Nothing!” Bodie raised his voice slightly. “There’s a Bond…”
“There’s always a Bond. Which Bond?” Ray appeared at the entrance to the kitchen, wiping his hands on a tea towel.
“Dr No.” Ray pursed his mouth and nodded approvingly, going back into the kitchen.
Bodie shrugged and carried on looking, suddenly breaking out in giggles. “Hey! Guess what’s on? RAY!”
Ray was back, throwing the tea towel into the kitchen. “What?” he asked, coming over to see what had Bodie so tickled. Bodie was beaming as he held the TV Guide up. Ray took hold of it and peered.
“The Muppet Movie? The Muppets?” He threw the Guide back down at his muppet of a partner.
“Hey I’m circling that I am. 6.30 – ITV. That’s booked, that is. And I circled one for you anyway. That hiking programme.” Bodie was preoccupied drawing a line around The Muppets, sticking his tongue out slightly. Ray blinked, hiking programme?
“What hiking programme?”
“You know, you like it. Travel guide or summit. Walking the world, that sort of thing.” He shot a quick glance up at Ray to see how he was taking it and looked back down again, smiling to himself. He straightened his face and carried on circling the line.
Ray thought about it. Travel show? “Is it a David Attenborough?” He held out his hand impatiently for the Guide as Bodie shifted further away up the settee.
“No. Do you want another clue?”
“No I want the Guide. Give.” Ray gestured with his hand and moved a bit closer.
“Guess.”
“Give!” Ray grabbed at it, but Bodie swiftly transferred it to his other hand and held it above his head. “I’ll give you another clue.”
Ray poked his tongue into his cheek as he tried to control his impatience. He nodded.
“It also explains about the importance of clean laundry.” Bodie couldn’t stop his giggles now.
Ray pulled a face. “It what? Right, you are giving me that Guide my son.” He stepped onto the settee and reached over Bodie to snatch at it, who moved and brought the Guide low instead. Ray grabbed Bodie’s right shoulder with one hand, trying to reach the TV Guide with the other.
“Oi – watch the arm.” Bodie’s right arm was sporting a lovely bruise from yesterday.
“I know, I know, I am watching it…” Ray shifted his grip slightly, mindful of the arm and pinched Bodie’s leg hard instead. Bodie yelped and held the Guide further away. “No rules about minding your leg now… Oi!”
Bodie pushed Ray almost off the settee and tried to scramble away, except that Ray had put a bony knee on his back and was now trying to pin his arms behind him. Bodie quickly stashed the Guide under his chest before Ray grabbed his hand and held it firmly.
“Give… Me… That… Guide…!” Ray struggled to hold Bodie's arms with one hand so that he could grope about for the Guide with the other. This might have worked had it been a) anyone but Bodie, who knew the way he fought and b) any other time, when he wasn’t struggling with a few bruises and a bellyful of laughter. As it was, he over estimated how much of Bodie he was holding and quickly found himself thrown to one side and pushed face first into the back of the settee. Ray struggled but Bodie held his arms tightly behind him.
“Surrender?” Bodie suggested sweetly into Ray’s ear.
“Surrender? Not bloody likely. And that tickles!” Ray kicked back but his special move was ineffective for once as Bodie was now lying with his full weight on his back. “BODIE!” Ray pushed back up against him but to no avail; Bodie was hot and heavy and he could smell the cleanliness of the soap he had used that morning and the faint tang of beer on his breath. He wriggled but there was no give anywhere. “Gerroff!”
“Surrender?”
“Okay, okay.”
“Say it.”
Ray started laughing into the back of the settee. “I can’t! No… Bloody…” He tried again to struggle, but now Bodie had a leg over his and was laughing with him.
“C’mon - say it and I’ll let you up. All you have to say is ‘surrender’. Oh and ‘Bodie is King’. Go on… ‘Surrender and Bodie is King’.” He felt Ray strain his arms, felt the tremors of laughter all down the long length of him. Ray's hair smelled clean and fresh, of apple shampoo. He breathed it in and squeezed his wrists in encouragement.
“'M not saying that. Agh!” Bodie pinched his backside. “Say it!”
“No! And you’re blinking squashing me, no Christmas pudding for you… No stoppit!”
Bodie tickled him. Ray yelped and squirmed, waves of laughter taking over. He threw his head back. “OKAY! Okay, stop stop, mind me ribs, I minded your bloody arm – STOP! I’ll say it, I’ll say it... I surrender and Bodie is the flipping King! Now gerroffme!”
“'Course!” Bodie immediately let him go and stood up as Ray coughed weakly and flopped back on the settee. Bodie retrieved the mangled TV Guide from where it had ended up under the coffee table and held it out contritely; Ray glared at him and snatched it away. He flicked through the pages in silence until he came to the entry that he was sure Bodie was talking about. He then leaned up on his elbow to look at Bodie laughing from a safe distance away.
“The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Written by Douglas Adams, this series tells us not to annoy Vulcans and the importance of keeping a clean towel when hitching a lift with strange star ships.” Ray read out loud from the magazine and then threw it across the room at Bodie’s head. “And it’s not even on today. You really are…”
“What’s that smell?” Bodie sniffed experimentally.
“Oh shit!” Ray jumped off the settee and back into the kitchen. Bodie chuckled and straightened out the sofa cushions, patting them back into place and re-settling down. He was beginning to like Christmas. He clicked the TV on and flicked between the three channels, settling finally on The Donald Duck Story. He looked again at the listings, yes, this was as good as it was going to get for now. Ray came through from the kitchen, stared at the TV in disdain and pulled a face before going back inside.
“Nothing else on. Should have brought me video around, we could have plugged that in to your telly.” Bodie was quite proud of his VHS and even happier that he could still keep up with the football, despite his erratic working hours.
“Nah.” Ray was back, this time apparently for good as he slumped on the settee and rested his beer on the table. “Christmas Day is all about Christmas telly, about watching what everyone else’s watching, at the same time as everyone else for once. Means we're all in the same boat together.” He eyed Donald Duck squawking in disgust and looked over to see Bodie starting to smile at the screen. He stared at him for a second and then swallowed his sarcastic remark and turned back to face the TV.
“Do you remember Bill and Ben and all that?” Bodie didn’t turn to face him, but kept his eyes on the screen.
“Who?” Ray’s thoughts turned to the Squad; did they have a Bill and a Ben? He didn’t remember seeing those names on the active list…
“The Flowerpot Men. You know, Little Weed? How innocent we were.”
“Oh.” The penny fell. “Kids' show?”
“Yeah. Watched that one Christmas, I remember that. Don’t know how old I was though. Must’ve been a quiet year for the folks.”
“Did you have a telly then? Lucky bastard.”
“Oi watch it, I almost was you know.” Bodie waved his finger at Ray and grinned engagingly. “Yeah, we had a telly.”
“Should’ve known, you posh git.” Ray settled himself into the settee.
“I take it by that chip on your shoulder that you didn’t then, Raymond?”
“A telly? Where I lived? Gah, you’ve got to be joking, we were lucky to have a radio. Used to listen to Radio Luxemburg at night, had to fight my brothers for it though.”
Bodie rubbed his arm and looked sideways at Ray. “Bet you won,” he said loyally.
“Nah not always.” Ray was pragmatic. “They used to gang up on me. Gave as good as I got though.” He grinned at Bodie.
“Is that where you got…” Bodie nodded at Ray’s cheekbone “…that from?”
Ray was still a moment and then he leaned to pick up his beer. “You know how I got that,” he said carefully.
“Well, you said fight. You didn’t say what fight or who you were fighting… Want another?” He saw Ray waggle his empty can and drain the dregs.
“I’ll get them; I want you out of that kitchen. I know what you’re like; you’ll have eaten the turkey and left the foil roasting if I let you go in there.” Ray got up and sauntered out, coming back with two cold beers. “Shouldn’t drink too much beer before eating really.”
“Says who? And you still didn’t say.”
“Say what? Oh that.” Ray rubbed his face reflectively. “It was just a fight Bodie, nothing dramatic. Not with my brothers either. Just me, thinking I knew it all, and some other bloke, thinking he did instead. Same thing that happens all over.” Ray was silent for a while and then he looked up. “Bloody big bloke though, as it happens.” He shrugged and turned to grin at Bodie, who playfully swatted him on the shoulder.
“Nothing dramatic, he says. I’ll remind you of that next time you get a paper cut.”
“Well! They’re vicious. Prefer a go with Macklin than a paper cut.” Ray got up to check the dinner.
“Your wish'll come true there, sunshine. Only seven days to go.” Bodie idly flicked channels, sipping his beer at intervals and listening to Ray knocking around the kitchen. He got up and wandered the room, stopping in front of the Christmas tree. He glanced behind him but could hear Ray’s muffled singing, accompanied here and there by a swear word as he presumably touched something too hot to hold. He looked back at the small pile of presents under the tree and bent down. To Ray, to Ray… He carefully pulled out one square parcel from the back and raised his eyebrows. Nothing fancy, just his name written on the tag in Ray’s sprawling handwriting. He smiled and tucked it back where he found it, wondering what it could be. Maybe he could add his present to Ray in amongst that lot and then let Ray find it himself… He stepped back and cursed as a pine needle spiked his foot - bloody things, every bloody time…
“Mate, can I just get…” Bodie was already in the kitchen and he ducked round Ray to pull out the dustpan and brush from the cupboard under the sink. Ray looked puzzled and then wary. “What've you done? What've you dropped?”
“I’ve dropped nothing! It’s that tree that’s doing the dropping.”
“Oh, okay. Be my guest.”
”I’m already that, more than that if I’m doing your housework as well!”
“Ah Bodie, you’ll make a good wife one day petal!” Ray called after him.
“Har de har har.” Bodie swept the pine needles up and, about to tip them into the bin, was suddenly struck by inspiration. He kicked the wastepaper bin so it clanged and then went up the stairs. A moment later he ducked into the bathroom to ostentatiously pull the chain and then was back down again, sitting on the settee, flicking idly through the Guide. Good wife indeed! Not going to get away with that one Raymond, who's doing the cooking I'd like to know, eh?
Dinner was a grand affair; both men knew how to cook but Ray certainly had the edge on Bodie and Christmas Day was a good excuse to show off to a very appreciative audience of one. Refresher courses and the imminent New Year treat with Macklin suddenly felt far off in the distance, as the radio played Christmas songs in the background. Not all of Bodie’s clanking carrier bags had been filled with lager, he’d also brought round a very fine wine to accompany dinner and that, combined with the food, was making both of them feel tranquil and at peace with the world.
“Time for presents then?” Bodie asked lazily as they sprawled on the settee. The Christmas Top of the Pops special was on, Bucks Fizz trying to convince people they lived in a Land of Make Believe.
“What makes you think you’ve got one?" Ray rolled his eyes and stretched. "Silly question, you’ve been looking haven’t you? Might’ve known…” He patted his stomach. “‘M stuffed.”
“Yeah mate, that was the best Christmas dinner I’ve ever eaten.” Bodie smiled suddenly as he looked at Ray, aware that he might’ve just sounded soppy and added quickly “It’s not me that’ll make the good wife.”
“Oh shurrup. Alright, lets see what me brothers have got me this year.” Ray dropped to his knees and shuffled over to the tree. “You did do your sweeping well.”
Bodie stretched out on the settee and ignored the crack. “What did you get then? Share the wealth.”
“Hmm,” Ray held up a wrapped bottle and read the tag. “Best go easy on that one, he makes it himself. You open it.”
He passed it over to Bodie who held it at arms length. “Home made brew eh? ‘From Ken’. Ken? Have I met Ken? Is he the one with a beard? Works something to do with horses?”
Ray looked thoughtful. “You met him? Don’t remember that. He did have a beard last I saw him though. And he works at a donkey sanctuary.”
Figured. Bodie eyed the now-unwrapped bottle in apprehension. “I hope he makes this away from the donkeys.”
“Best pour it in a glass first, just to be sure. His home brew knocks your head off.” Ray was shaking another present.
“Could be fragile that.” Bodie set the bottle down carefully on the coffee table.
“Fragile? From Jack? Surprised he’s bothered, doesn’t usually. Must be going soft.” He ripped it open and laughed sarcastically. “Now that is more like him.” He held up a tie. “Recognise it?”
Bodie squinted and held out his hand as Ray threw it over. He looked at it and flipped it over to see the label. “Buys the same designer as me…”
Ray snorted with laughter. “Bodie it’s your tie! I borrowed it ages ago to go with that suit I bought, remember? Then Jack borrowed it from me. And this is how he gives it back. That’s brotherly love for you.”
“Don’t any of you Doyles own a tie? All scruffy buggers, the lot of you?”
“Don’t like ties, never have and never will. What’s this?” Ray held up a gold wrapped present and looked across quizzically.
“Ah. Well, that’s from me innit. And it’s non-breakable, apparently.” Bodie smiled, thinking back to their chat under the CI5 Christmas tree.
“Why Bodie, I never knew you cared. And here’s something for you then.” Ray said it as an after thought and handed over a hastily wrapped present with dancing Santa’s printed gaily on the paper.
“For me?” Bodie held it and wondered before ripping the paper. A yellow Citroën 2CV Corgi car was revealed, with Roger Moore as Bond staring out from the packaging.
“I think you’d make a good Bond. You can start by having his car.”
“Cheers! Prefer to have his Aston Martin but this will do for now. Thanks mate!” Bodie grinned widely.
“That’s his latest that is.” Ray poked at his present. “Shall I open it?”
“Nah keep it ‘til Easter. Of course open it!”
Ray ripped open the paper. “Oh hey… Cheers!” He turned the box around to read more about the Sony Walkman.
“So you can keep that classical nonsense to yourself.” Bodie turned back to the television, pleased with Ray’s response.
“Hmph?” Ray was engrossed, walking across and swatting Bodie’s legs down off the settee so he could sit down. “Best present ever this.”
“I am renowned for my good taste and my generosity of spirit, talking of which, when are you going to be generous with yours?”
“Eh?” Ray looked up and over to where Bodie was indicating. “Oh yeah.”
He placed the Walkman down reverently and jumped up to get two glasses and the bottle of Scotch. “Help yourself. And while you’re there you can help me too …” He put the bottle and glasses down on the coffee table. “I’ve got a cassette somewhere, gotta try this out.”
He rummaged in the sideboard, pulled out a caseless cassette and slid it into the Walkman. Pressing play, he held his thumb up to Bodie, who smiled and poured the drinks, before turning back to the television. Muppets soon, he thought happily. Hopefully Gonzo would have a starring role.
Much Later
Bodie wondered if Ray was asleep. Earlier there had been a brief struggle over how they could both fit comfortably on the settee – "‘M not sitting with your feet up me nose” - and they had eventually ended up watching the late night film with Bodie upright and Ray laying down, legs across Bodie’s lap.
“No tickling!” Ray had warned as he kicked Bodie’s leg lightly with his foot and leaned back, one arm behind his head.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Bodie had sat silent for a bit, watching the TV. “No point dreaming if I can actually do it…” He had made a light hearted attempt to tickle Ray’s foot.
“Oi! Truce!” Ray had raised his head and held his foot away.
“Okay, okay.” Bodie had patted his lap and Ray settled his feet back down again. The film rolled on and candles threw flickering shadows around the room, enhancing the glow from the Christmas tree.
But now the film was over, the candles had burnt low and Ray had turned his head to one side. Bodie couldn’t see his face under all those curls. Asleep he reckoned. His hand had come to rest on Ray’s leg during the film and it was warm under his hand, the denim soft and smooth to the touch. It wasn’t a decision at all to give in to temptation and he slowly rubbed his fingers in a circle, feeling the heat from Ray’s body and the hard strength of his muscles, enjoying the feeling of closeness and companionship.
And so they live to fight another year… Bodie felt something fierce for this man lying here beside him, something unlooked for had taken root under his ribs over the years and it hurt, surprisingly it hurt. Who’d have thought..?
“That tickles,” Ray said sleepily and Bodie instantly stilled his hand. “Nice though, you don’t have to stop.”
Bodie sighed and turned the rub into a pat, and then withdrew his hand. “Oh but I should. Just wanted to say… It’s been a really nice day. I appreciate it. It’s been grand.”
Ray shifted so his face was turned to Bodie, eyes still closed. “Pity… Yeah, it’s been a good Christmas. Back to it tomorrow though.”
Bodie was hardly listening; had he imagined that softly breathed ‘Pity’? He realised he was holding his breath and let it out carefully. Must’ve. God he wished life had a rewind button. Had Doyle really said that? Maybe he hadn't. Maybe he should ask? Yeah right, maybe…
“You staying? I’ll get the blankets…” Ray suggested, but he made no move to sit up, just lay there, one hand idly playing with his hair.
“Yeah I'm staying. Always here, me.” Bodie spoke softly and realised the truth in his words. He’d only ever said ‘I love you’ to two women before in his life and here he was, saying it again in a roundabout way, to a man. Someone up there was playing a joke on him somewhere he reckoned.
Ray looked at him then and smiled warmly. “Yeah, I know sunshine.”
He pushed on Bodie’s thigh with his foot and finally lifted himself up, padding around the flat. Bodie watched Ray from the settee, quietly thoughtful, as he pinched out the candles and swung upstairs for the bedding. He came back down with his arms filled with blankets, which he heaped upon the settee.
“There’s a pillow somewhere in that lot. Sleep well Bodie.”
Bodie nodded and pulled the blankets around himself, finding the pillow and settling it behind his head. He looked up and Ray was still standing on the stairs.
“You alright then?” Ray asked, hand tapping against the banister.
“Snug as a bug in a…”
“No bugs in my rugs I’ll have you know. Clean they are.” Ray took a step up, and then another. “Yeah, was quite good today.” He had the air of continuing from an older conversation.
“Very good. One of the best.” Bodie was watching him carefully, wondering what he was building up to. Ray looked down and smiled.
“Not bad for a first date, anyway.” And then he winked and was off up the stairs, grinning.
Bodie almost laughed out loud as he turned round and punched the pillow into shape. He settled his head down. First date! He snorted in amusement and then remembered something, raising himself up on an elbow, waiting expectantly. He didn’t have long to wait.
“BODIE!”
Now Ray knew where all those pine needles had gone. Bodie grinned and closed his eyes.
The End
By Magenta
Title: Of Trees and Needles
Author: Magenta Blue
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit/Hatstand: Absolutely!
Disclaimer: Bodie, Doyle and the CI5 universe belong to Brian Clemens, Mark
One and the original producers. Basically, they're not mine, sadly.
Notes: Warm and wonderful thanks to Slanted Light for being such a terrific beta!
Of Trees and Needles (Part II)
“All units go.” Cowley’s voice was firm.
No time for any more thinking. Bodie opened the car door and dashed out into the rain. His mind fleetingly registered the cold and wet, but only because he couldn’t see quite as clearly as he knew he would need to. He held his rifle loosely at his side as he reached the gates, not thinking as he pushed, sure in his subconscious that Ray would have done his job and cut the power. The gates resisted and Bodie baulked, suddenly winded although he knew not why. “Fucking…” He pushed again more frantically and the gates finally gave in and opened smoothly. He dragged them both wide, hearing the rumble of Murphy's truck coming up behind him, and then he was running for the open door, jumping in the passenger seat as they heard a shot fired in the distance.
Tension crackled as they roared up the long curved driveway. Headlights swept across the curve and then a car was bearing down towards them from the house, intent on escaping the area. Murphy pulled hard on the steering wheel and spun the truck to a halt, blocking the road. Bodie was out even before it completely stopped, crouching by the path, sighting in the tyres of the oncoming car. He blinked rapidly to see through the rain and fired - once, twice. The car swerved and ran off the road, through the bushes. Shouts were heard over the rain and shapes jumped out of the car, gesturing wildly.
“Drop your weapons!” Murphy shouted, as a gun shot broke the air.
‘Fat chance’ Bodie thought as he ran from the path and threw himself behind a tree, leaning against it panting as he reloaded. He glanced around when he heard answering fire from CI5 - that was Murph’s Browning, he’d bet on it. A bullet bit a chunk of bark from the tree as he whipped back behind it, waited until he heard Murph’s covering gunfire and then fired himself, aiming for the car’s bonnet.
Once, twice.
He ducked back, reloaded, and then fired again. The car exploded into flame, the last shot right where Bodie wanted it. He leaned back against the tree, the grounds suddenly illuminated by the fire, easy for CI5 men hidden in position to see their targets.
‘Oh there’s a duck pond’, he thought distractedly as screams and shouts came from behind. Murphy could clear up now, he was needed elsewhere. He threw down the empty rifle, checked his hand gun, counted five, and then dashed forward, using the trees along the drive for cover. Another shot sounded from the vicinity of the house and he redoubled his efforts, jumping a small wall and running across the front lawn, trying to stop himself slipping on the wet grass.
The front door was open, light spilling out of the hallway as a man dashed out towards a car parked on the drive. Bodie put on an extra burst of speed and shot from the darkness, leaping the car bonnet and throwing himself at the man, who looked up in terror, as if a panther had burst out of the night. There was barely a struggle, the cold steel of Bodie’s gun pressing into the man’s neck, demanding obedience.
Bodie cuffed his hands around one of the pillars on either side of the front door. “Don’t go away,” He tapped the man’s shoulder and cautiously edged around the front door, drawing his hand gun on hearing the sounds of a fight, all senses on high alert.
The empty hallway yawned at him, but there were noises coming from a door to the right. Bodie slid past it and stepped into a large kitchen; gun trained on two men hammering against a closed door that was close to splitting.
Something heavy swung down on his gun arm and pain ricocheted up his body.
“Fuck!” he swore as his gun clattered under the table, and he ducked and moved backwards, missing the killing blow aimed at his neck. He turned and grabbed his attacker around the waist, propelling him back into a wall unit which rocked violently.
A wall unit that held all the knives.
‘Oh, great move Bodie’, he thought to himself as blades clattered down around them. His opponent saw his chance and grabbed a particularly nasty carving knife, slashing the air where Bodie had been standing not a second before.
The disturbance had caused the other two men to pause their hammering on the door and this was all the cue Ray needed to swing it open. He used the door lintel to heave himself up and delivered a flying kick at the man closest to him, making him crash into the far wall and slide down silently.
Ray’s kicks could be deadly.
Bodie didn’t dare take an eye off his man with the carving knife but he felt suddenly light headed with relief at the proximity of his partner, who by all accounts was giving someone back there a real good pasting. It made him grin at the knife wielder, who was taken aback at such a reaction from the man he was threatening to turn into a watering can. His knife arm wavered and Bodie grabbed it, bringing it forward as he slammed his back into the man’s chest, to make him drop the knife.
“What kept you?” Ray sounded winded as he ducked a wild punch from the second assailant still standing.
“Oh you know… Had to... Wash me hair…” Bodie twisted the arm viciously as he spoke; finally hearing the knife clatter to the ground, then drove his elbow into the man’s chest.
Ray managed to break the arm lock he was in and turned, punching the man hard in the face, feeling the crack of bone. The man fell to his knees, cradling his nose as blood leaked down onto the floor.
“That’s for Diane, remember her? Well she remembered you alright. Before she OD’d that is.”
He grabbed the man’s hair, bringing his head up but saw the fight had gone out of him, so let go and grimaced at the blood on his hand. Looking over, he saw Bodie straighten as his man slumped unconscious on the floor. Ray indicated that they should continue going through the house and Bodie nodded and stooped to reach for his gun, moving ahead as Ray swept his arm majestically forward.
The hallway was still empty, front door swinging open in a light breeze. They moved stealthily to an open door on the left.
“Where’s your gun?” Bodie hissed as they rounded an empty dining room. Tasteless statues leered at them as opulent chandeliers glittered from the ceiling. No other doors, no exits.
“Guardhouse.” Ray whispered back. “There were four of them. One of them snatched it. No bullets left anyway.”
“Four!” Bodie glared at Ray as they went on through the house.
Ray understood that the glare wasn’t directed at him but at CI5’s surveillance team. He guessed that James (a quiet man who practically lived in the buggy boo) would get it in the neck at some point. That’s what Ray liked best about this partnership; they were equally pissed off at the things that mattered, like saving his skin for instance. He drew up short as Bodie in front of him held up a hand in caution. They both rounded the next room to see a man crouching in front of a blazing fire.
“Back away from the fire and hands on your head. Slowly.” Bodie held his gun on Sir Henry Langton, who straightened and turned to stare at Bodie. He slowly moved away from the fire and mockingly raised his hands. Ray went over to the fire; a quick glance saw the papers merrily burning in the breeze. Too late to retrieve them. He glared at the man in front of him, whose exterior was barely ruffled, despite the sounds of violence going on around him.
“You won’t get away with this, I have exceedingly good lawyers. They’ll want to know why you threatened an unarmed man in his own house.” Langton’s voice was polished and smooth.
“Unarmed?” Bodie scoffed incredulously. He heard Murphy’s truck draw up outside and hoped to God the good guys were in it. Rapid footsteps, and Cowley burst unceremoniously into the room, drawing up short at the scene in front of him.
“Ah, Sir Langton. How good to see you here tonight. Most fortuitous.” Cowley was at his most polite, most icy and therefore most dangerous. Murphy stood behind him, gun out and RT held to his ear. He listened and then nodded at Cowley whose expression went from polite mask to what was almost a smirk.
Sir Langton’s eyes flicked from one to the other. “I won’t fall for all that Mr Cowley. I know my rights.”
“And what rights are those then?” asked Murphy cheerfully, pulling a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket. “Turn around will you. No sharp movements my dear fellow…” He efficiently cuffed the blustering man and turned him back around to face Mr Cowley, who looked at his watch as a clock chimed loudly from the hallway.
“I do believe it is Christmas Eve. However, I don't believe it will be a particularly merry Christmas for you, Sir Henry. No, not merry at all.” He gestured for Murphy to lead him away as the sound of police sirens drew closer and pulled his RT out of his pocket to speak with Anson.
“Doesn’t even have a Christmas tree up.” Ray looked around the room.
“I bet he has a few needles though.” Bodie couldn’t resist, chuckling to himself as he got a rather dour look from Cowley and an amused snort from his partner.
Christmas Eve
Ray leaned on the filing cabinet watching Cowley speaking on the telephone. He had been summoned by Betty to see the controller but ever since he was ushered inside George had been on the blower. He shifted position slightly so he could see the clock on the wall, and tried not to let his exasperation show on his face but impatient fingers betrayed him, tapping an angry staccato on top of the cabinet. George Cowley looked at him over the rim of his glasses, Ray instantly stilled. God he felt like he was back at school.
“They're rescinding the OBE? Well, well…”
Ray tuned out slightly and let his eyes drop. Christ he was knackered. And that bastard had fetched him a good one, right in the ribs. He ran a hand along his jaw line, feeling the roughness of stubble, pausing to touch his lip, which was sore as well. He licked it, grimacing slightly. Bastards…
“Of course Minister. What’s that? Why, yes… thank you. It was a good team effort; the police are due their praise. No, we mustn’t forget them… Well good will to some men… Yes. You too.” George Cowley laughed rather self-consciously at the last few words and put the phone down.
“Well that is rather a turn up for the books. This department doesn’t often get a ‘well done’ from ministerial circles. However, what that will mean for next year’s budget…” He looked across at Ray slouching by the cabinet, now examining his knuckles with a frown.
Ray realised that his full attention was now required and straightened, looking across to Cowley.
“You wanted to see me? Sir?” he added belatedly.
George Cowley looked at him shrewdly. "Sir" was always an after-thought with this one. Not that Doyle didn't show respect, but he wasn’t a man to automatically assume that rank equalled respect; you had to earn it in his eyes, on his own personal scale of merit. Rigid in some ways, flexible in others, hot-headed and not afraid to say what he thought…
“Yes Doyle. Your report…” Cowley indicated the papers on his desk. Doyle’s eyes flicked across; the desk was covered with reports, MI6’s reports could’ve been under that lot. He felt a sinking feeling… He knew what this was about but tried to stay nonchalant.
“That was a very scathing attack on this department, paragraph seven I think it was. Would you like to comment further?”
“I just wanted it noted that’s all. For the record. I didn’t think it was necessary.”
“We needed her information.”
“We could have got it another way.”
“We needed quick results.”
“We still should have had access to all the facts first!” Ray’s voice was louder now. He checked himself but still went on passionately. “If we'd known she was likely to re-use we could have had someone watching out for her.”
“How do you know we didn’t?” Cowley’s voice was calm.
Ray stared at him and then narrowed his eyes. “So we did…?” He paused and then set off on a new tack. “Who? They obviously weren’t doing a good enough job!”
“If an addict, and do not lose sight of that Doyle, for that is what she was, chooses to re-use then they will. She gave our man the slip in Dalston and the address she went to was an unregistered squat. We offered her access to a hospital programme that could have helped her, but she didn’t want our help.” Cowley was back at his desk, sifting through the papers, trying to put them in some sort of order. He looked up again. “You would have preferred us to take her by force – to arrest her, to lock her up? Would she have thanked us for that?”
“She’d have been alive.” His reply was quick but the passion had gone and he cuffed his nose. Damn reason and logic…
Cowley finished straightening his papers and looked at the silent man, contemplating the floor in front of him. He then glanced at the clock and came to a decision.
“Come on man; let’s see if we can find that errant partner of yours. And Murphy is probably in need of a drink too. I asked Ted to open ‘that cage’ as you call it a bit earlier than usual. It is Christmas after all.” Cowley hit Ray briskly on the arm and held open his office door. Ray looked at him for a moment and then nodded tiredly and walked through. Yes Christmas, it was at that.
Bodie leaned backwards on his chair, balancing it on two legs. He steadied himself with the table and then let it go, thumping on the floor. Anson looked at him, took his cigar out of his mouth as if to say something and then decided against it. He did however reach behind him to where Murphy was snoring on the settee to whack him on the shoulder.
“Wassit? What? Oh gerroff.” Murphy shifted into the settee and settled back down again, this time snore free.
“Leave him be Paul, he’s knackered.” Bodie steadied himself on the table again and pushed his chair back. Maybe he could get it to balance further this time…
Anson removed his cigar. “We’ve all been working hard Bodie.”
Bodie’s chair thumped back down again in answer. He couldn’t be bothered to reply, he was tired, bored and wanted to go home. He couldn’t remember what his home looked like but he thought it would probably be quite nice if he could ever get there to find out. “C’mon Ray,” he growled under his breath and sighed. There was a boxed Christmas cake on the table he had been manfully ignoring ever since he came into the VIP room all of ten minutes ago. Might as well cut himself a slice if all he was doing was waiting about…
The door banged open and a crowd of agents jostled through, Jax, Lucas, McCabe, Susan, Sally, Macklin… Macklin! Bodie almost choked on his cake, trying to quickly swallow it before…
“Already started with the Christmas excess then Bodie? Remember you have a re-training session coming up in January, don’t over do it like last year. Only the geese should get fat!” Macklin clapped Bodie’s shoulder hard as he came round the table, making him rock forward. Man didn’t know his own strength. He smiled sarcastically at the blond trainer, who was now staring agog at the twinkling Christmas tree.
“Now Cowley said this had to be seen to be believed… I'll have to get Towser over.”
Bodie shuddered. Ye Gods, not Towser. He pushed the cake box further away, twisting just in time to see Cowley and Ray finally make an entrance. He stood up and called over, “C’mon mate, we going?”
“The bar? Thought you’d never ask.” Macklin clapped his shoulder hard again causing him to sway forward, and started motioning to the others in the room. “George – did you agree it with Ted? Look’s like Bodie’s paying.”
“What?” Bodie suddenly found himself surrounded by colleagues, each apparently dying of thirst and anxious to hustle him down to CI5’s private bar. “Ray!” Bodie implored as he was pushed past, but Doyle held his hands up in submission, smile threatening to break like the sun from behind the clouds.
“Well thanks a lot mate! Just remember who’s giving you a lift home! Oi!” Bodie yelled down the corridor at Ray, who was leaning round the corner of the door, waving a fond farewell at him. They all disappeared in a rowdy mass around the corner and Ray smiled and went to collect his coat from the VIP room, catching Cowley chuckling in amusement at the tree.
“Do you like it then?” Ray nodded up at it.
“Eh? Oh aye, one for the books that is. I wondered where that picture went. Still, at least it appears to have had two good homes.” He threw a look at Ray and then glanced to where Susan was wrapping her scarf around her neck. “You coming Miss Fisher?”
Susan was taking a rather long time to gather her belongings and now seemed slightly abashed. Ray looked at her and then turned a slow circle to where Murphy was still blissfully slumbering. There was a faint rosy glow on Susan's cheeks when he turned back to face her, although she met his eyes steadily enough. “Yes, I’ll be there, I was just…”
“Yes, wake Murphy there will you.” Cowley walked to the door and looked down at him. “How anyone can sleep through that herd of elephants…” He muttered as he left the room.
“I’ll leave him to your tender ministrations then,” Ray said mischievously, knowing that Susan had a soft spot for Agent 6.2. He couldn’t think where exactly she kept it though, there was nothing soft about Susan Fisher as far as he could see. Left ear perhaps? Behind her ankle? Little finger? He smiled as he followed George Cowley down the corridor.
In the cage Ted was using his skills as a diplomatic bar man to serve the thirsty so and so’s from CI5’s finest. Bodie stood at the bar, a look of chagrin on his face as he handed over his money. There goes Christmas, he thought mournfully as pints distributed themselves over his head and Ted came back with a sympathetic smile on his face and a handful of exceedingly small change. Bodie made a face at it and poured it into the Cancer Charity collection box. “Ruins the line of my jacket!” He smiled and turned to lean on the bar, taking a sip of his pint. Tired as he was, it tasted divine.
“Where’s mine then?” Ray was at his side, also looking tired but certainly more cheerful than when he was writing his report. He'd had a face like thunder then.
“Judas!” Bodie turned back to the bar and raised his hand to get Ted’s attention. Ted nodded at him and went to serve Lewis instead. ‘Happens every time’ thought Bodie in resignation.
“He does that on purpose now, you know.” Ray looked over to Ted. “He knows it winds you up.”
“Why would he want to do a stupid thing like that? The last person that wound me up ended on the…Oh hi Ted. A beer for the boy will ya? And put this one on Cowley’s tab.”
“The Major will sting you for that one soon enough, Bodie.” But Ted was smiling and handed a brimming pint to Ray, who took a sip with his eyes closed. He set it back down and wiped his mouth appreciatively, wincing slightly at his lip. “Boy? You’ve got a nerve.”
Bodie was back leaning on the bar, drinking his beer. “Smaller than me.”
“Flippin’ older than you.” Ray poked him in his side.
Bodie buried his smile in his glass as Murphy came up and nodded over Bodie’s head to get Ted’s attention. Within seconds a pint was handed over, and Bodie threw a disgusted glance over his shoulder at Ted and then turned back to Murph.
“You got the day off tomorrow then?”
“Got four days off actually.” Murphy was almost preening. “On account of my good work, the Cow said. Management material, that’s me.”
“Management? You can ‘ave it.” Ray said strongly.
“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be y’know. Comes with its own rules, its regulations.” Bodie pointed out.
“Its own whisky tab.” Ray muttered as Cowley picked up his glass of pure malt from Ted. Bodie and Murphy sniggered as Cowley made his way over, distracted by Macklin.
“Oh no not him, don’t bring him over…” Bodie groaned into his drink.
“What, Macklin?” Ray raised his head and peered over. “When we got him? First week isn’t it? That’s just great that.”
“That’s when you’ve got your refresher? I tell you, the Cow just doesn’t like you anymore. He likes me. Mine’s not until the second week. Proves it.” Murphy was smug.
“That proves nothing!” Bodie pulled a face.
“It just means the Cow wants us fit as a fiddle, in top form straight away. He’ll let you stay fat for a bit, not as important.” Ray tried not to chuckle but couldn’t help it at Murphy’s quick glance down at his belly.
“Sir.” Bodie straightened slightly as Cowley and Macklin came to join them. Murph rubbed his stomach and glared at Ray before smiling at the two men. “Drink?” He indicated the bar.
Macklin held out an admonishing hand. “Not for me, one and one only. Can never let your guard down.”
“Not even on Christmas?” Ray suddenly looked round to the clock. Hmm, he was pushing it a bit…
“Especially not at Christmas. You think the villains take Christmas off?” Macklin eyed Ray keenly and Ray suddenly felt like he was being sized up ready for the roasting tin. Shit, roasting tin. Where was his roasting tin?
“Get hurt did you?” Macklin was at his elbow now, looking at the way Ray was frowning.
“Eh? Oh no, well yes, but not really… AGH!”
Macklin withdrew his finger from where he had poked Ray in the ribs. “Ribs again? You have to watch for that.”
“Did you see Willis, Doyle?” Cowley was now interested as well, damn him. Ray glared at both of them and rubbed his side.
“I don’t need to see Willis, my ribs are fine. They were fine.” He looked at Macklin in reproach but the man had moved on, and was now giving Bodie the eagle eye.
Bodie felt the scrutiny and endeavoured to jump in before any more remarks comparing him to a fat bird were made in this crowd’s earshot, “So Mack… Brian, what are you doing for Christmas then? Any plans?”
Macklin blinked in surprise at the question. “Working. It’s Towser’s little girl’s first Christmas, couldn’t let him take that shift.” Macklin coughed in embarrassment at the astonished silence. “Well, just need to have a quick word with Lucas, have a good Christmas everyone.” He backed away as Ray, Bodie and Murphy eyed each other in disbelief. Fancy finding out their trainer was human. And that the tank had a little girl!
Cowley chuckled at their expressions. “Well, gentlemen. Happy Christmas.” He made to move on.
“What are you doing tomorrow, sir?” Murphy asked.
Cowley turned back and suddenly looked a little older. “As Brian says, villains don’t appreciate the festivities. I expect I shall be here with the other agents working this shift. That is, if someone hasn’t eaten all our Christmas cake, I did think the VIP room was a bad place to leave it, even boxed as it was.” He glanced sharply at Bodie’s face and moved away, hiding his smile.
Murphy turned his dark head towards Susan who had slunk in beside him, and Bodie looked up from where he had once again slouched on the bar to find Ray decisively drinking up.
“C’mon.”
“Not getting another?”
“Nah, got things to do.” Ray scratched his face and watched as Bodie finished his beer. They said their goodbyes, and pushed through the crowd to walk down to where Bodie had parked the Capri.
“What you got to do then?” Bodie opened the door, sat in the driver’s seat and leaned over to open Ray’s door.
“Secret,” said Ray as he sat down. Bodie glanced at him and pouted slightly, then started the car with a roar and squealed the tyres out of the car park.
“What secret?” he asked as they sped down the high street.
Ray tapped his nose by way of an answer. Bodie eyed the car mirror and overtook a bus, slipping in behind a VW Camper van.
“What’s the secret then?” he asked again.
Ray just stared levelly at him.
“Alright, alright don’t tell me then. Your own partner. See if I care.” Bodie was always good natured in defeat.
“What you doing tomorrow Bodie?”
“Eh?” Bodie put his foot down slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, did you make any plans?”
“For what?”
Ray was exasperated. “For Christmas! That thing we celebrate over here. You know, Christ’s birth and all that? You brought up in a cave or something?”
“Cage actually. Gilt and brass. All mod cons…”
There was a silence in the car as Ray mentally kicked himself for his unthinking comment and considered whether he really wanted to invite Bodie round or not. Ever since the day they'd put up the Christmas tree it had been on the tip of his tongue to ask the silly sod round, show him what a good Christmas could be like. But then there was the drugs case and he'd had no time to think, let alone plan a day of niceties. Now he had, what? Two hours left of shops open? And Bodie was an irritating annoying sod. He kept quiet and balanced his options as Bodie drove along Camden high street.
“No plans mate, not this year. Don’t really celebrate it anyway. Never been a day of wonder…” He broke off suddenly and pulled into a quieter street, leaving the hustle of Camden behind him.
It was that voice that did it, Ray decided. Not a voice of regret or self pity, but the voice of someone that never expected anything at all. They pulled up outside his block, Bodie kept the engine running.
Ray put his hand on the door handle. “Come round tomorrow Bodie. We might as well have a good Christmas for once.” He was slightly unnerved by Bodie’s surprised silence. “Well that’s if, uh, well, that’s if you want to that is…”
“You’re on.” Bodie grinned widely and shot an imaginary gun at him. “You cooking? I am definitely there. What time?”
“Oh uh… Anytime. Don’t matter what time if it’s just us does it? Anytime.” Ray was grinning as well now, suddenly undeniably cheerful.
“Well that’s a… Ok then. See you tomorrow” Bodie almost choked on what he was unthinkingly about to say.
Ray just smiled broadly. He knew what had been on the tip of Bodie’s tongue and it amused him no end. “I guess it is. See you then. And bring some beers!” He hopped out of the car and ran up the stairs to his building. Bodie was still grinning as he wheel spun away. Little toad!
Christmas Day
Bodie rang the doorbell and jangled Ray’s door keys in his pocket. He felt such an occasion as a day off… Ok, as a Christmas Day off, deserved some sort of formality. Bottles clanked in the two carrier bags he was holding.
He had actually felt great when he woke up, as though he had something nice to look forward to. Of course, a good night’s sleep had done wonders; he couldn’t remember when he had last felt so shagged out without the shag. He found himself actually humming whilst shaving, leaning forward in the bathroom mirror to check out a minute cut above his eyebrow. Maybe it was just because he liked Ray’s flat better. His own was cold and cheerless compared to the artificial gaiety of the shops when he had finally let himself in yesterday. Sort of bleak. That almost made him laugh; he remembered reading Bleak House as a boy, thought it was a brilliantly apt description back then. Bit ironic that he’d grown up to live in places that had the same feel to them. Sort of austere, he thought as he had put down his shopping and fiddled with the heating. Sort of boring, he thought later as he sleepily eyed the telly and kicked his shoes off under the table. But this morning, improbably, the sun had shone briefly through his bedroom window, frost covered the roofs of nearby houses and a sparkle of something was in the air. Not snow he thought, looking up. Just something.
“Why hello.” He said by way of a reply into the intercom.
Ray’s voice sounded breathless through the buzzer. “Yeah yeah Bodie. Push.”
Bodie did and jogged up the stairs to Ray’s flat. He could smell dinner. Mmm roasting turkey…
Ray was holding the door open, looking a little ragged round the edges. He laughed as Bodie held up the two clanking carrier bags. “Will that be enough for one day?” He hit the right note of mock horror and ushered his partner grandly inside. “Happy Christmas my dear fellow.”
“There’s more in the boot, and Happy Christmas to you too… Is dinner ready yet? And you have pine needles in your hair.” Bodie grinned as he walked past Ray, who shut the door behind him whilst raking his head viciously with the other hand.
“Got hours yet, the key to a good Christmas dinner is in the preparation. Which we didn’t get time to do, thanks to CI5 and all who sail in her. And you’re early.” Ray dogged his steps, keen to see Bodie’s face as he entered the living room. He grinned widely at the surprised look. This was worth it.
Bodie turned in a circle. “Oh hey… When did you do all this?”
Ray rubbed his nose embarrassedly. “Oh it’s been up a while…” He decided not to elaborate further on the mad dash around Camden he had done yesterday and the way he had acquired the real Christmas tree. Having a CI5 ID worked wonders although the shop was probably still wondering why the tree had to be impounded.
Bodie walked around the flat, looking at the decorations slung around the room. Slung was a good description actually; Bodie had a good idea of what Ray had been up to after he dropped him off yesterday. He lowered his head so his grin didn’t get too out of hand and then smiled up at Ray who was looking a bit shame faced. “It’s great. Really great.”
Ray cheered up. “Yeah not bad. Good old Woolies…”
Bodie was now standing by the Christmas tree. Not quite a 9ft monster but a good size all the same, twinkling with lights. He raised his eyebrows at the few wrapped presents underneath and poked one with his shoe.
“One for me under there?”
“Depends whether you’ve been a good boy.” Ray tried to stay serious but a smile twitched around the corners of his mouth.
“Oh I see, like that is it? Best not raise me hopes then.” Bodie stepped backwards slightly and peered at the rest of the tree. He grabbed hold of one bauble, swung it round so George Cowley was looking at Ray and giggled to himself as he swung it back. “In case we forget father’s face eh? And where’s your homemade pine whatsits then? Or is it just artistic needle scattering?” The carpet around the tree was covered in dropped pine needles.
“Oh leave off. I’ve done my creative bit for this year.” Ray gestured around the room. “Make yourself comfy, TV guide is there, thought you could choose the day’s entertainment. Got to check on the old bird.”
“Old bird? You got Cowley’s girlfriend in there?” Bodie yelled after him and flumped down on the settee, kicking his shoes off under the coffee table. This was more like it, warm, welcoming, beer and food. And telly. Perfect really, no hassle about meeting the bird of the moment's dodgy relatives, no putting on a show, here he could just relax and enjoy himself. With that aim in mind he delved in one of the carrier bags at his feet and pulled out two cans, one of which he placed on the coffee table. The other he carried through to the kitchen, with the carrier bags.
Ray was opening cupboards and pulling out pans, and he turned to regard Bodie with suspicion. “It’s not ready yet and don’t go eating anything!”
Bodie clanked the beers at him by way of reply.
“Oh right, yeah, give ‘em here, I’ll put them in the fridge…” Bodie passed him the bags and the other can. Ray looked at it before opening. “I guess the sun is past the yard arm somewhere in the world.”
”And it’s Christmas.” Bodie nodded wisely.
“Yeah – cheers! Now piss off!” Ray flicked the ring pull at him and turned back to his chopping board, taking a healthy swallow of beer as he did so.
“Charming!” Bodie sniffed the air appreciatively and padded out of the kitchen, flopping down on the settee again. He drank from his beer and, pulling the TV Guide towards him, ran his eyes lazily down the listings. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Ray liked all that sci-fi stuff… He found a pen on the coffee table and carefully circled it.
“What film's on?” Ray shouted from the kitchen.
“Ermm…. BBC1’s got some kids' film, Disney...” He tailed off, working down the listings. “Got Loophole in the evening, God that’s crap, went with a girl to see that at the cinema and fell asleep…”
“Whassat?”
“Nothing!” Bodie raised his voice slightly. “There’s a Bond…”
“There’s always a Bond. Which Bond?” Ray appeared at the entrance to the kitchen, wiping his hands on a tea towel.
“Dr No.” Ray pursed his mouth and nodded approvingly, going back into the kitchen.
Bodie shrugged and carried on looking, suddenly breaking out in giggles. “Hey! Guess what’s on? RAY!”
Ray was back, throwing the tea towel into the kitchen. “What?” he asked, coming over to see what had Bodie so tickled. Bodie was beaming as he held the TV Guide up. Ray took hold of it and peered.
“The Muppet Movie? The Muppets?” He threw the Guide back down at his muppet of a partner.
“Hey I’m circling that I am. 6.30 – ITV. That’s booked, that is. And I circled one for you anyway. That hiking programme.” Bodie was preoccupied drawing a line around The Muppets, sticking his tongue out slightly. Ray blinked, hiking programme?
“What hiking programme?”
“You know, you like it. Travel guide or summit. Walking the world, that sort of thing.” He shot a quick glance up at Ray to see how he was taking it and looked back down again, smiling to himself. He straightened his face and carried on circling the line.
Ray thought about it. Travel show? “Is it a David Attenborough?” He held out his hand impatiently for the Guide as Bodie shifted further away up the settee.
“No. Do you want another clue?”
“No I want the Guide. Give.” Ray gestured with his hand and moved a bit closer.
“Guess.”
“Give!” Ray grabbed at it, but Bodie swiftly transferred it to his other hand and held it above his head. “I’ll give you another clue.”
Ray poked his tongue into his cheek as he tried to control his impatience. He nodded.
“It also explains about the importance of clean laundry.” Bodie couldn’t stop his giggles now.
Ray pulled a face. “It what? Right, you are giving me that Guide my son.” He stepped onto the settee and reached over Bodie to snatch at it, who moved and brought the Guide low instead. Ray grabbed Bodie’s right shoulder with one hand, trying to reach the TV Guide with the other.
“Oi – watch the arm.” Bodie’s right arm was sporting a lovely bruise from yesterday.
“I know, I know, I am watching it…” Ray shifted his grip slightly, mindful of the arm and pinched Bodie’s leg hard instead. Bodie yelped and held the Guide further away. “No rules about minding your leg now… Oi!”
Bodie pushed Ray almost off the settee and tried to scramble away, except that Ray had put a bony knee on his back and was now trying to pin his arms behind him. Bodie quickly stashed the Guide under his chest before Ray grabbed his hand and held it firmly.
“Give… Me… That… Guide…!” Ray struggled to hold Bodie's arms with one hand so that he could grope about for the Guide with the other. This might have worked had it been a) anyone but Bodie, who knew the way he fought and b) any other time, when he wasn’t struggling with a few bruises and a bellyful of laughter. As it was, he over estimated how much of Bodie he was holding and quickly found himself thrown to one side and pushed face first into the back of the settee. Ray struggled but Bodie held his arms tightly behind him.
“Surrender?” Bodie suggested sweetly into Ray’s ear.
“Surrender? Not bloody likely. And that tickles!” Ray kicked back but his special move was ineffective for once as Bodie was now lying with his full weight on his back. “BODIE!” Ray pushed back up against him but to no avail; Bodie was hot and heavy and he could smell the cleanliness of the soap he had used that morning and the faint tang of beer on his breath. He wriggled but there was no give anywhere. “Gerroff!”
“Surrender?”
“Okay, okay.”
“Say it.”
Ray started laughing into the back of the settee. “I can’t! No… Bloody…” He tried again to struggle, but now Bodie had a leg over his and was laughing with him.
“C’mon - say it and I’ll let you up. All you have to say is ‘surrender’. Oh and ‘Bodie is King’. Go on… ‘Surrender and Bodie is King’.” He felt Ray strain his arms, felt the tremors of laughter all down the long length of him. Ray's hair smelled clean and fresh, of apple shampoo. He breathed it in and squeezed his wrists in encouragement.
“'M not saying that. Agh!” Bodie pinched his backside. “Say it!”
“No! And you’re blinking squashing me, no Christmas pudding for you… No stoppit!”
Bodie tickled him. Ray yelped and squirmed, waves of laughter taking over. He threw his head back. “OKAY! Okay, stop stop, mind me ribs, I minded your bloody arm – STOP! I’ll say it, I’ll say it... I surrender and Bodie is the flipping King! Now gerroffme!”
“'Course!” Bodie immediately let him go and stood up as Ray coughed weakly and flopped back on the settee. Bodie retrieved the mangled TV Guide from where it had ended up under the coffee table and held it out contritely; Ray glared at him and snatched it away. He flicked through the pages in silence until he came to the entry that he was sure Bodie was talking about. He then leaned up on his elbow to look at Bodie laughing from a safe distance away.
“The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Written by Douglas Adams, this series tells us not to annoy Vulcans and the importance of keeping a clean towel when hitching a lift with strange star ships.” Ray read out loud from the magazine and then threw it across the room at Bodie’s head. “And it’s not even on today. You really are…”
“What’s that smell?” Bodie sniffed experimentally.
“Oh shit!” Ray jumped off the settee and back into the kitchen. Bodie chuckled and straightened out the sofa cushions, patting them back into place and re-settling down. He was beginning to like Christmas. He clicked the TV on and flicked between the three channels, settling finally on The Donald Duck Story. He looked again at the listings, yes, this was as good as it was going to get for now. Ray came through from the kitchen, stared at the TV in disdain and pulled a face before going back inside.
“Nothing else on. Should have brought me video around, we could have plugged that in to your telly.” Bodie was quite proud of his VHS and even happier that he could still keep up with the football, despite his erratic working hours.
“Nah.” Ray was back, this time apparently for good as he slumped on the settee and rested his beer on the table. “Christmas Day is all about Christmas telly, about watching what everyone else’s watching, at the same time as everyone else for once. Means we're all in the same boat together.” He eyed Donald Duck squawking in disgust and looked over to see Bodie starting to smile at the screen. He stared at him for a second and then swallowed his sarcastic remark and turned back to face the TV.
“Do you remember Bill and Ben and all that?” Bodie didn’t turn to face him, but kept his eyes on the screen.
“Who?” Ray’s thoughts turned to the Squad; did they have a Bill and a Ben? He didn’t remember seeing those names on the active list…
“The Flowerpot Men. You know, Little Weed? How innocent we were.”
“Oh.” The penny fell. “Kids' show?”
“Yeah. Watched that one Christmas, I remember that. Don’t know how old I was though. Must’ve been a quiet year for the folks.”
“Did you have a telly then? Lucky bastard.”
“Oi watch it, I almost was you know.” Bodie waved his finger at Ray and grinned engagingly. “Yeah, we had a telly.”
“Should’ve known, you posh git.” Ray settled himself into the settee.
“I take it by that chip on your shoulder that you didn’t then, Raymond?”
“A telly? Where I lived? Gah, you’ve got to be joking, we were lucky to have a radio. Used to listen to Radio Luxemburg at night, had to fight my brothers for it though.”
Bodie rubbed his arm and looked sideways at Ray. “Bet you won,” he said loyally.
“Nah not always.” Ray was pragmatic. “They used to gang up on me. Gave as good as I got though.” He grinned at Bodie.
“Is that where you got…” Bodie nodded at Ray’s cheekbone “…that from?”
Ray was still a moment and then he leaned to pick up his beer. “You know how I got that,” he said carefully.
“Well, you said fight. You didn’t say what fight or who you were fighting… Want another?” He saw Ray waggle his empty can and drain the dregs.
“I’ll get them; I want you out of that kitchen. I know what you’re like; you’ll have eaten the turkey and left the foil roasting if I let you go in there.” Ray got up and sauntered out, coming back with two cold beers. “Shouldn’t drink too much beer before eating really.”
“Says who? And you still didn’t say.”
“Say what? Oh that.” Ray rubbed his face reflectively. “It was just a fight Bodie, nothing dramatic. Not with my brothers either. Just me, thinking I knew it all, and some other bloke, thinking he did instead. Same thing that happens all over.” Ray was silent for a while and then he looked up. “Bloody big bloke though, as it happens.” He shrugged and turned to grin at Bodie, who playfully swatted him on the shoulder.
“Nothing dramatic, he says. I’ll remind you of that next time you get a paper cut.”
“Well! They’re vicious. Prefer a go with Macklin than a paper cut.” Ray got up to check the dinner.
“Your wish'll come true there, sunshine. Only seven days to go.” Bodie idly flicked channels, sipping his beer at intervals and listening to Ray knocking around the kitchen. He got up and wandered the room, stopping in front of the Christmas tree. He glanced behind him but could hear Ray’s muffled singing, accompanied here and there by a swear word as he presumably touched something too hot to hold. He looked back at the small pile of presents under the tree and bent down. To Ray, to Ray… He carefully pulled out one square parcel from the back and raised his eyebrows. Nothing fancy, just his name written on the tag in Ray’s sprawling handwriting. He smiled and tucked it back where he found it, wondering what it could be. Maybe he could add his present to Ray in amongst that lot and then let Ray find it himself… He stepped back and cursed as a pine needle spiked his foot - bloody things, every bloody time…
“Mate, can I just get…” Bodie was already in the kitchen and he ducked round Ray to pull out the dustpan and brush from the cupboard under the sink. Ray looked puzzled and then wary. “What've you done? What've you dropped?”
“I’ve dropped nothing! It’s that tree that’s doing the dropping.”
“Oh, okay. Be my guest.”
”I’m already that, more than that if I’m doing your housework as well!”
“Ah Bodie, you’ll make a good wife one day petal!” Ray called after him.
“Har de har har.” Bodie swept the pine needles up and, about to tip them into the bin, was suddenly struck by inspiration. He kicked the wastepaper bin so it clanged and then went up the stairs. A moment later he ducked into the bathroom to ostentatiously pull the chain and then was back down again, sitting on the settee, flicking idly through the Guide. Good wife indeed! Not going to get away with that one Raymond, who's doing the cooking I'd like to know, eh?
Dinner was a grand affair; both men knew how to cook but Ray certainly had the edge on Bodie and Christmas Day was a good excuse to show off to a very appreciative audience of one. Refresher courses and the imminent New Year treat with Macklin suddenly felt far off in the distance, as the radio played Christmas songs in the background. Not all of Bodie’s clanking carrier bags had been filled with lager, he’d also brought round a very fine wine to accompany dinner and that, combined with the food, was making both of them feel tranquil and at peace with the world.
“Time for presents then?” Bodie asked lazily as they sprawled on the settee. The Christmas Top of the Pops special was on, Bucks Fizz trying to convince people they lived in a Land of Make Believe.
“What makes you think you’ve got one?" Ray rolled his eyes and stretched. "Silly question, you’ve been looking haven’t you? Might’ve known…” He patted his stomach. “‘M stuffed.”
“Yeah mate, that was the best Christmas dinner I’ve ever eaten.” Bodie smiled suddenly as he looked at Ray, aware that he might’ve just sounded soppy and added quickly “It’s not me that’ll make the good wife.”
“Oh shurrup. Alright, lets see what me brothers have got me this year.” Ray dropped to his knees and shuffled over to the tree. “You did do your sweeping well.”
Bodie stretched out on the settee and ignored the crack. “What did you get then? Share the wealth.”
“Hmm,” Ray held up a wrapped bottle and read the tag. “Best go easy on that one, he makes it himself. You open it.”
He passed it over to Bodie who held it at arms length. “Home made brew eh? ‘From Ken’. Ken? Have I met Ken? Is he the one with a beard? Works something to do with horses?”
Ray looked thoughtful. “You met him? Don’t remember that. He did have a beard last I saw him though. And he works at a donkey sanctuary.”
Figured. Bodie eyed the now-unwrapped bottle in apprehension. “I hope he makes this away from the donkeys.”
“Best pour it in a glass first, just to be sure. His home brew knocks your head off.” Ray was shaking another present.
“Could be fragile that.” Bodie set the bottle down carefully on the coffee table.
“Fragile? From Jack? Surprised he’s bothered, doesn’t usually. Must be going soft.” He ripped it open and laughed sarcastically. “Now that is more like him.” He held up a tie. “Recognise it?”
Bodie squinted and held out his hand as Ray threw it over. He looked at it and flipped it over to see the label. “Buys the same designer as me…”
Ray snorted with laughter. “Bodie it’s your tie! I borrowed it ages ago to go with that suit I bought, remember? Then Jack borrowed it from me. And this is how he gives it back. That’s brotherly love for you.”
“Don’t any of you Doyles own a tie? All scruffy buggers, the lot of you?”
“Don’t like ties, never have and never will. What’s this?” Ray held up a gold wrapped present and looked across quizzically.
“Ah. Well, that’s from me innit. And it’s non-breakable, apparently.” Bodie smiled, thinking back to their chat under the CI5 Christmas tree.
“Why Bodie, I never knew you cared. And here’s something for you then.” Ray said it as an after thought and handed over a hastily wrapped present with dancing Santa’s printed gaily on the paper.
“For me?” Bodie held it and wondered before ripping the paper. A yellow Citroën 2CV Corgi car was revealed, with Roger Moore as Bond staring out from the packaging.
“I think you’d make a good Bond. You can start by having his car.”
“Cheers! Prefer to have his Aston Martin but this will do for now. Thanks mate!” Bodie grinned widely.
“That’s his latest that is.” Ray poked at his present. “Shall I open it?”
“Nah keep it ‘til Easter. Of course open it!”
Ray ripped open the paper. “Oh hey… Cheers!” He turned the box around to read more about the Sony Walkman.
“So you can keep that classical nonsense to yourself.” Bodie turned back to the television, pleased with Ray’s response.
“Hmph?” Ray was engrossed, walking across and swatting Bodie’s legs down off the settee so he could sit down. “Best present ever this.”
“I am renowned for my good taste and my generosity of spirit, talking of which, when are you going to be generous with yours?”
“Eh?” Ray looked up and over to where Bodie was indicating. “Oh yeah.”
He placed the Walkman down reverently and jumped up to get two glasses and the bottle of Scotch. “Help yourself. And while you’re there you can help me too …” He put the bottle and glasses down on the coffee table. “I’ve got a cassette somewhere, gotta try this out.”
He rummaged in the sideboard, pulled out a caseless cassette and slid it into the Walkman. Pressing play, he held his thumb up to Bodie, who smiled and poured the drinks, before turning back to the television. Muppets soon, he thought happily. Hopefully Gonzo would have a starring role.
Much Later
Bodie wondered if Ray was asleep. Earlier there had been a brief struggle over how they could both fit comfortably on the settee – "‘M not sitting with your feet up me nose” - and they had eventually ended up watching the late night film with Bodie upright and Ray laying down, legs across Bodie’s lap.
“No tickling!” Ray had warned as he kicked Bodie’s leg lightly with his foot and leaned back, one arm behind his head.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Bodie had sat silent for a bit, watching the TV. “No point dreaming if I can actually do it…” He had made a light hearted attempt to tickle Ray’s foot.
“Oi! Truce!” Ray had raised his head and held his foot away.
“Okay, okay.” Bodie had patted his lap and Ray settled his feet back down again. The film rolled on and candles threw flickering shadows around the room, enhancing the glow from the Christmas tree.
But now the film was over, the candles had burnt low and Ray had turned his head to one side. Bodie couldn’t see his face under all those curls. Asleep he reckoned. His hand had come to rest on Ray’s leg during the film and it was warm under his hand, the denim soft and smooth to the touch. It wasn’t a decision at all to give in to temptation and he slowly rubbed his fingers in a circle, feeling the heat from Ray’s body and the hard strength of his muscles, enjoying the feeling of closeness and companionship.
And so they live to fight another year… Bodie felt something fierce for this man lying here beside him, something unlooked for had taken root under his ribs over the years and it hurt, surprisingly it hurt. Who’d have thought..?
“That tickles,” Ray said sleepily and Bodie instantly stilled his hand. “Nice though, you don’t have to stop.”
Bodie sighed and turned the rub into a pat, and then withdrew his hand. “Oh but I should. Just wanted to say… It’s been a really nice day. I appreciate it. It’s been grand.”
Ray shifted so his face was turned to Bodie, eyes still closed. “Pity… Yeah, it’s been a good Christmas. Back to it tomorrow though.”
Bodie was hardly listening; had he imagined that softly breathed ‘Pity’? He realised he was holding his breath and let it out carefully. Must’ve. God he wished life had a rewind button. Had Doyle really said that? Maybe he hadn't. Maybe he should ask? Yeah right, maybe…
“You staying? I’ll get the blankets…” Ray suggested, but he made no move to sit up, just lay there, one hand idly playing with his hair.
“Yeah I'm staying. Always here, me.” Bodie spoke softly and realised the truth in his words. He’d only ever said ‘I love you’ to two women before in his life and here he was, saying it again in a roundabout way, to a man. Someone up there was playing a joke on him somewhere he reckoned.
Ray looked at him then and smiled warmly. “Yeah, I know sunshine.”
He pushed on Bodie’s thigh with his foot and finally lifted himself up, padding around the flat. Bodie watched Ray from the settee, quietly thoughtful, as he pinched out the candles and swung upstairs for the bedding. He came back down with his arms filled with blankets, which he heaped upon the settee.
“There’s a pillow somewhere in that lot. Sleep well Bodie.”
Bodie nodded and pulled the blankets around himself, finding the pillow and settling it behind his head. He looked up and Ray was still standing on the stairs.
“You alright then?” Ray asked, hand tapping against the banister.
“Snug as a bug in a…”
“No bugs in my rugs I’ll have you know. Clean they are.” Ray took a step up, and then another. “Yeah, was quite good today.” He had the air of continuing from an older conversation.
“Very good. One of the best.” Bodie was watching him carefully, wondering what he was building up to. Ray looked down and smiled.
“Not bad for a first date, anyway.” And then he winked and was off up the stairs, grinning.
Bodie almost laughed out loud as he turned round and punched the pillow into shape. He settled his head down. First date! He snorted in amusement and then remembered something, raising himself up on an elbow, waiting expectantly. He didn’t have long to wait.
“BODIE!”
Now Ray knew where all those pine needles had gone. Bodie grinned and closed his eyes.
The End
By Magenta
Title: Of Trees and Needles
Author: Magenta Blue
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit/Hatstand: Absolutely!
Disclaimer: Bodie, Doyle and the CI5 universe belong to Brian Clemens, Mark
One and the original producers. Basically, they're not mine, sadly.
Notes: Warm and wonderful thanks to Slanted Light for being such a terrific beta!
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Date: 2006-12-12 12:30 am (UTC)MB x