discoveredinalj | Discovered in Canon

Well, I'm taking advantage of the honeymoon to post up my second in almost as many days. Not that there's always that many fic cluttering up my hard-drive, but it's been useful for clearing up all those 9/10ths finished works. Thank you!

Matchmaker

So you see, that's where it started. I was working behind the bar at a cute pub in the posher end of Kensington. Kensington, of course, being composed purely of 'posh' and 'posher'. The clientele were, mostly, a genteel sort. Nice accents, business suits or twin set and pearls. The latter for the ladies, you understand. It wasn't that sort of place. We got one or two workmen and, well, we only ran them out if the regulars complained, business is business, after all.

Then there was those two. Lookers, the pair of them. The shorter sported a mane of auburn curls which were so obviously not natural, and a pair of gorgeous green eyes. He also tended to wear very tight jeans, which always showed his best asset to good advantage. The other was dark and brooding. A regular Heathcliff. And his eyes. Oh, deepest blue and penetrating, as if he could see through to your very soul.

They were both so very obviously dangerous young men. Quite apart from the fact that they both carried, and please, don't ask me how I came to the skill of spotting that mile off, you really don't want to know; there was a glint in the eyes of both of them that spoke of danger and adventure. Quite a turn on for a certain type of girl, I can tell you.

I'm not sure I'm completely immune to it myself and it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say I've been around the block a few times. Not that I look it, of course. The fountain of youth has many perks.

Anyway, it was young Sally that pointed it out to me. And I'm still not quite sure where she picked the notion up from, but she was absolutely convinced that the pair were… now what is that cute phrase? More than just good friends. Now me, I wasn't so sure. And before you say anything, it's not that I don't believe in, well, the love that dare not speak its name. Seen it all over the years, I have. But still, it's my business to spot that kind of thing. Even if I consider myself mostly-retired nowadays. A regular matchmaker I was, back in the day. But times change; it isn't the sort if thing modern folk go in for. And considering some of my family's less celebrated efforts, well, I'm not sure I completely blame them.

Hmm, where was I? Ah, yes. The boys. Sally was getting on my wick a bit with her giggling. If you ask me it was more her having an issue with the idea of two men together. Set off her imagination something chronic, it did. She couldn't enter a conversation without her dropping it in somehow. And I still wasn't convinced. Yeah, there seemed to be some attraction on both sides. But a lot of folk are attracted to others of their own kind and don't do anything about it. Quite pathetic really.

They popped in regular for a few weeks, then that was that. Not a peep from them again. Sally found another facet of the human condition to gossip about and life moved on.

I did think about them from time to time. Wondered why they'd not been back. Dangerous, the pair of them. And well-trained. I didn't think I see them again, this side of the Styx, anyway. All of which goes to show sometimes even I can be wrong.

It was about six months later that I got myself into a little bit of a tight spot. Nothing too bad for someone like me, well not if I was willing to call in a favour or two, but before I could sort myself out the cavalry had burst in, guns blazing. Well that put a crimp on my day, I can tell you. So instead I had to do my best damsel-in-distress act and hope the questioning didn't take too long.

To my utter surprise, my hero was none other than Heathcliff. It just goes to show it takes all sorts. He very courteously untied me and got me sorted out before he waded in with the questions. Quite the gentleman. Someone had obviously done a lot of work on him. But finally he had me sat in a car, probably his, someone else's jacket round my shoulders. He turned that penetrating stare on me and I thought 'this is it'.

"Here, don't I know you?"

I was polite. After all, Heathcliff probably had gone through so many ladies; he was imagining an amalgamation of them.

"Annie, right? You're a barmaid at the, er..."

Okay, so it was a positive ID. There was no way I was getting out of this one easily. "Scarsdale. In Kensington. And it's Affie, not Annie." I held out my hand.

"Bodie," he replied absently, shaking the proffered appendage. "So what's a pretty girl like you doing messed up with this lot then?"

Well, it was obvious that would be the next question. Luckily I'd prepared my response well in advance. "Hostage, would you believe it? I was minding my own business and they just grabbed me." I shed a few tears for effect. It's a good trick if you can do it.

He bought it, of course. "Well, we'll need to take you somewhere safe. We've got a few questions for you as well. But we shouldn't keep you too long."

Well, that was fair. More than fair, actually, but the brooding Heathcliff didn't know that. "Thanks," I said meekly.

"Typical Bodie," a new voice interrupted. "Wherever there is a girl in need, there you are."

Auburn curls atop a cheeky grin popped into my view and was instantly shoved away.

"Ignore him," Bodie advised. "Ray's barely civilised."

Ray grinned irrepressibly, nodding briefly to me before turning to Bodie. "We're just about finished up here. The Old Man isn't too pleased with us, Sunshine, what with us leaving no bad guys to question."

Bodie grunted. "Better get our witness under wraps then. Before anything else happens."

"Five minutes and I'll be with you. Clarke is masterminding the cleanup."

"Only fair, seeing as he made most of the mess."

"And I wouldn't want leave a lovely lady like this in your care for too long. Who knows what would happen."

"I'll draw you a diagram later, if you want."

"Nah, I'm the artist round here. Or had you forgotten?"

"Well some of us get on with it while the rest of you just dream about it."

"Some of us take pride in our work. Want to record it for posterity."

"For when you're too old to remember, that is."

"Not too old yet."

Belatedly remembering he had an audience, Bodie glanced at me and abruptly changed the subject. "Five minutes and no more, Doyle," he warned. I was rather disappointed; it was a great double act. Very entertaining.

After that, it was easy. There was no one to dispute my story, I'd been very careful there. In return I gave my rescuers some good information, under the aegis of loose talk around a soon-to-be-dead lady. They were happy and so was I: the ploy worked to get me released in double quick time.

"We'll have to keep a watch on you. Just in case some of the bad guys come back," Bodie warned as he escorted me through the labyrinthine corridors that made up any Government building.

"No problem," I answered. They had no idea it would be a complete waste of time. And, well, running into the pair of them again had got me thinking. It was probably unwise on their part, but they didn't know that.

I wanted to know more about them.

"So, are you going to be looking after me personally?" I fluttered my eyelashes and exerted my feminine wiles. Poor, young Heathcliff didn't stand a chance.

"Well, it's for my Boss to say who gets the job."

"And off the job?" I purred.

He coughed. "Perhaps a drink. Before assignments are set?"

Hook, line and sinker.

We went for that drink, very cosy place it was too. We talked. Bodie was very entertaining. He let me set the pace and tone of the conversation, flattering me. But it was what he was saying that was interesting to me. Every other sentence referred to the man he called his partner. Doyle.

Well, obsessed would be a word for it, but the poor lamb didn't know what he was doing. So while we were getting acquainted, I was planning my campaign.

I suppose it would be considered callous to say that I did take him home with me. I could say it was in the spirit of further research, but come on. I was a modern woman and freedom to do what you want was practically required. As long as you didn't lose your heart, that was. Well, me, no problem there. Again, don't ask. And Bodie, well, it became increasingly obvious he had given his away long ago. Whether he knew it or not.

And it was good. Very good. Bodie knew most of the tricks, though I flatter myself I taught him one or two more. I did say I had some experience, yes? Well, just trust me on that. Bodie certainly didn't complain. He gave me his number next morning, but I was already planning my attack on auburn-hair.

However, Ray Doyle proved rather elusive. I'd been counting on a little bit of friendly rivalry between the pair of them, or at least for Ray to show some curiosity. But he didn't seem to want to bite. I learned a bit about him from some of the others though. And, in the meantime, I spent a lot of time with Bodie.

Sure, he cancelled dates three times out of five, turned up late or left early. Some nights he wasn't fit to go out, bruised and bleeding. But that's life on the front line for you. My first husband, the Blacksmith, had been as boring as hell. At least Bodie was interesting. Though, of course, my goal was to sort him out and, while it was good, it was painfully obvious the poor boy had it bad. Now if only I could work out what the object of his love was feeling.

The minders stayed for about six weeks before packing their bags and leaving. And that was that. Bodie kissed me on the cheek and reminded me of our date that night. Eight pm, he said, outside Gino's.

He didn't show. Well, that was fairly common place. I sank a couple of Kirs and found myself a nice solicitor for the night. If Bodie was true to form, there would be flowers and an apology within the next day or so, depending on whether he was in a state to deliver them himself or whether he had to arrange the delivery.

There weren't any flowers. Or any apologies. Nothing for almost a week. Well, I was getting worried. It would just be my luck for Bodie to have got himself killed when I was still working on his problem. It was that, and the underlying issue that had me doing something no lady should ever do; I contacted him. Or rather, I tried to. All I got was a polite, but distant, voice promising that she'd pass the messages on.

Well, I supposed he could've just got bored of me, but I didn't think dumping by silence was quite Bodie's thing. A phone call or postcard, perhaps, but not nothing. I was definitely getting worried. I even thought about calling on my good-for-nothing son, not that he'd be able to help. But I had to do something.

I was running through the options, some completely off the wall, some merely impractical, when it all resolved itself. My doorbell rang.

It wasn't Bodie, though. It was Ray.

"Stay away from Bodie," he started without preamble as I opened the door.

"Hello, Ray," I said in response. "Nice to see you. Do you fancy a cup of tea?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, thank you, but one of us should attempt to be polite, don't you think? It could get quite nasty if neither of us don't attempt it. And I would suggest at least stepping into my hallway. It really wouldn't do to have this discussion out here."

As if on cue my neighbour, a particularly nosy old bat, opened her door. Mrs. Reynolds reminded me of my mother-in-law; all sticky beak and no manners. I glared at her until she closed the door. Then I turned a questioning gaze to Ray.

He merely shrugged, but allowed me to drag him inside. I closed the door behind us and leaned against it.

"How is your partner, by the way?"

"Exactly that," Ray snapped. "Which is why I'm asking you to stay away."

"My dear Raymond, I do believe you're jealous."

He narrowed his eyes. "Oh, please. I could do better than a scrubber like you any day."

I drew myself up and gave him my best shark's smile. "Believe me, sweetheart, I am so far out of your league, we're not even playing the same game." I'd had enough by this point. If Bodie truly loved this insensitive clod standing in front of me, then he was welcome to him and all the heartache he would reap. Contrary to popular opinion, I don't meddle unless asked. I moved away from the door, brushing past the young idiot as I retreated. "See yourself out," I snapped.

Ray grabbed at my wrist, not quite tight enough to bruise. "I mean it. Stay away. He's mine."

"And does Bodie know that?"

Ray gave me a peculiar half-smile. "He does now." He dropped my wrist and turned to the door. In a moment he was gone.

Well. Never let it be said that I can't take a hint. Besides, it was a success of sorts. Even if it didn't actually happen quite as planned. And you know, us Goddesses have to take our victories where we can.

Title: Matchmaker
Author: Andromeda
Warnings: Bodie/Female
Disclaimer: The Professionals are the property of Mark 1 Productions and London Weekend Television. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made.
Notes: Written for the

discoveredinalj Found in Fanon / Discovered in Canon challenge. My prompt was The Scarsdale Arms (which is a lovely pub!)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hee! Oh, that was fun - and it read as if it was fun to write as well. I love your narrator, you've established her very vividly and the hints of her backstory are really intriguing.

And I truly did not see that last line coming!

Just... hee!

Nicely done, and just what I needed today!

*grin*

It was rather fun to get in to the head of Aphrodite, definitely. Though I was more mentally channelling her as played by Alexandra Tyding in Xena than anything else!!!

Thanks!

Awww - you pushed my buttons very nicely with your possessive Doyle *g* and I always love to see them from a stranger's pov. Thanks for posting.

Thank you!

I had worried that she'd be a little annoying as the POV, but it was fun painting the boys from that perspective!

And I have a major kink for possessive Doyle. He can be so... intense!

Ah, mighty Aphrodite! You go, girl.

*grin*

I had worried folk might not pick up the identity of the narrator. I'm so glad some did!

Thanks!

European-based mythologies are very big at our house.

Alas, African & Asian not so much. (Hangs head at Eurocentricity. Not very PC.)

Excellent stuff! I do like a third person pov. And your goddess is a lovely extra twist.

And the Scarsdale - yay! I'm glad I wasn't spoiled for that, 'cos I was wondering from the start if it was the Scarsdale.

Thank you! I'm actually surprised there's not more fic out there where the Gods intervene - I only know of one.

And definitely a yay for the Scarsdale!

I deduced the narrator successfully from early hints, which was fun, as was the body of the story. Always nice to see the lads get a clue. :-)

I'm so glad folk did deduce the narrator - I was wondering if the hints were either far too heavy-handed or too subtle (not that I do subtle, of course). Though, of course, I'm now terribly worried I've got Hephaestus and Hera on my case now for being nasty about them in fic!

And thanks!

Hera already doesn't like anybody anyway... And Hephaestus got that nice Grace after he and the big A split, so he should be relatively happy.

And, to be fair, him being staid and respectable (read: boring) is why Aphrodite was married off to him in the first place!

Honestly, suchlike matchmaking should be left to the experts -- like the Cow! *grins*

Oh Gods, when I was first planning this fic I had a fantastic exchange between Ray and Affie, but it didn't pan out. So it didn't go in...

“Bloody Hell!” Ray exclaimed. “The Cow is going to kill me!”

I nearly swallowed my tongue at this point. I had visions of my stepmother having got involved with an international gang of spies. Then I remembered to be sensible, that's definitely not her scene. Ray was obviously talking about his boss, George Cowley.

I love reading them from a third POV, it´s almost like being the observer myself which makes the story very intense. Loved how bitchy and jealous Doyle was even though he thought the "scrubber" wasn´t any competition. Thank you!

Thanks for commenting!

Yeah, there's something highly voyeuristic about being from an outside POV.

And I've always had a sneaking suspicion that Doyle would be all bitchy and jealous when he finally fell into a relationship with Bodie!

Love the POV here, really unique and interesting standpoint. I love how the plot fit around the narrator and I always enjoy seeing the outsiders view of the lads. Loved all the little hints as to who she was but I think it was: My first husband, the Blacksmith, had been as boring as hell that sold it for me.

Having forgotten, or never knew, too much about Aphrodite, I was rather flummoxed by the fact that Bodie was taken in by an 'old scrubber'. Thank heavens for more educated comments!

I really loved "Affie's" POV of the Lads. Then there's a very jealous Doyle warning her off. Perfect!

Thanks so much for this. :)

I wondered at "Affie" and twigged for sure when I hit her first husband, the "blacksmith." *g*

Very nicely played, Petal. :D

Nice idea. Really enjoyed the "double act" dialogue. "the Blacksmith" clued me in to Affie's identity - I like the concept of Doyle subverting her planned matchmaking by getting to Bodie first.

I guess I would have liked a hint of how that happened, and I'm just not sure that Doyle would resort to threats & name-calling especially since he's already 'won'.

Discovered in Canon - Matchmaker

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject