discoveredinalj | Re-Discovered On All Hallows Eve Story: Stolen Soul

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Stolen Soul
by LilyK

When Doyle first saw her, she was stroking the nose of the feisty bay gelding that had just thrown him. With a sore bum and an aching back, he'd struggled to his feet to run after the cantankerous animal. Rounding a corner in the bridle path, Doyle was astonished to see the horse standing placidly in front of her, pushing its nose into her open palm.

She glanced past the horse and greeted him with a smile. Her bright blue eyes twinkled and her golden hair cascaded down her shoulders. Her delicate features delighted his senses and he felt instinctively drawn to her, his aches and pains immediately vanishing. The woods surrounding him seemed to disappear and the smell of the loam and moss was replaced by a light, airy fragrance of flowers and sunshine. His feet seemed to float above the very earth and it was with great joy that he made his way to her.

"Hello. I see you've captivated my horse, he's not usually all that friendly." Doyle knew he was babbling, but he couldn't help himself. Everything about her called to him and he wanted to tell her his deepest secrets on the spot. "Got a mind of his own. I bought him from a man who was going to put him down." Doyle finally managed to stop talking.

"And you saved him. He's such a delightful creature."

Much to Doyle's pleasure, she then turned her full attention to him. Her voice was like music, sweet and subtle. Her skin was creamy and smooth, with lips as red as blood. She had lips that begged him to taste her and a sweetly turned up nose that he wanted to nibble. Her ears were perfect, beckoning his tongue to explore them.

His entire body revelled in her closeness and in just moments, he knew he was in love. A small whisper of logic questioned this sudden desire, but when he tried to think more about it, his thought processes became muddled and painful. With a shrug, he ceased his struggle and immediately, the world righted itself. It was only fitting that she was here. He belonged to her. He would die for her.

"Are you all right?" she asked innocently, her bright eyes holding his attention.

Doyle leaned toward her, unwilling to remain apart from her for a single moment longer. She gave him a beatific smile, raising her hand. He fell to one knee, bent his head and would have pledged his fealty if he could have spoken but his mouth was dry with want. Her fingertips carded through his hair, her touch reassuring him. He shivered and looked sideways up at her. His gaze focused on her mouth, her lips were perfectly formed, red and wet from her tongue that peeked out. He had to kiss her. He was sure he saw her nod her approval of his unspoken request so he rose up awkwardly, a marionette on an invisible string.

She laughed aloud, stepping aside. Doyle's forward momentum stopped and he stumbled, almost falling. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Sorry. I'm so clumsy. Unworthy."

"No need to apologise, my sweet. You've the eyes of an angel and the body of a devil. Are you some lucky girl's property?"

"No."

"It wouldn't matter," she offered. "You're mine now."

"Yes. Yours."

"How shall I address you, my handsome new friend?"

"Me?" Doyle stood so close to her so that her perfume tickled his nose.

She stroked the horse, coquettishly casting Doyle a smile. "Yes, of course."

When she brushed her body lightly against his, Doyle's mouth fell open. It took him a moment to think before he blurted out, "Doyle. Ray."

"Oh, how delightful. Doyle Ray. Unusual, but very sweet. Doyle Ray, may I have this pet?" She again touched the horse who closed its eyes and shivered.

"Yes. Anything." He closed his eyes as well and shivered like the horse had.

Her laughter was like sweet drops of rain on newly blooming roses. "You may call me... Velvet."

"Beautiful." Doyle blinked slowly. "You are the most beautiful flower in all of England."

"You silly lad. What is my wonderful new creature's name?"

"Eh? Oh, the horse. I call him Billy."

"A fine name." She smiled, touching Doyle's bare arm. "Why?"

He smiled in return. "My partner..." What was his name? Ah, yes, Bodie. "He's as obstinate and cantankerous as another William I know. So he's Billy. Please, I have to... Please, I'm begging you."

This time he knew she was going to let him kiss her. His face flushed. His body shivered. His trousers tightened. One... more... inch...

Their lips touched. He was lost.

---------------------------------

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Bodie shouted, his voice reverberating off the walls of Cowley's office, hostile and defiant.

Cowley, for his part, looked like he had a horrible case of indigestion. "He's resigned, turned in his identification and gun." Cowley sighed. "He even left the keys to his flat."

"You're joking. What in God's name did you do to him? He was fine yesterday!"

Cowley's eyes narrowed. "I'll not have this tone, 3.7. Either sit down and be quiet or pour us a drink and be quiet. Either way, I've told you I don't know why he resigned."

"Christ..." Bodie didn't finish the string of expletives that burned in his throat. What the fuck had happened? Just yesterday, they were fine. Good friends, partners, sharing a lager, throwing darts. Today was their day off. Doyle was going riding, a sport Bodie avoided at all costs. Nasty buggers, horses. If he was going to ride anything, it'd be Doy- some willing bird.

Bodie tossed back a half tumbler of whisky in one go.

"Savour that drink, Bodie. If you want to become intoxicated do it at your local not on my best single malt."

"Sorry, sir" Bodie sighed. After his tantrum, he felt drained. With a tight voice he asked, "What the devil's going on with Doyle?"

"I don't know, but if I were a betting man, I'd lay a wager on drug use." Cowley's indigestion seemed to ratchet up his face was a mask of pain.

"No way, sir! Not Doyle! He was on the Drugs Squad. He wouldn't! He's got that body cleansing crap going on, doesn't even like to take aspirin."

"I know drug use when I see it. He was high as the proverbial kite. His eyes were glazed. His skin flushed. He spoke rapidly, fidgeted constantly. He was as jumpy as a wet cat in a thunderstorm." Cowley removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I don't know, Bodie. It was very unusual. I've known Doyle for many years. He was not himself when he stood here in this very room no more than two hours ago and resigned. He was-"

When Cowley didn't continue, Bodie leaned forward. "What? He was what?"

Cowley didn't elaborate, merely shrugged and shook his head. "I fear for his safety, for his life."

"Why?"

"Instinct, 3.7. Old fashioned pure gut wrenching instinct."

"Bloody hell." Bodie rose. "I'll find the mad bastard and knock some sense into him if it's the last thing I do."

"Take care that it isn't your final act, Bodie. Training new agents is expensive." Cowley waved him on his way.

"Sir."

--------------------------------

Bodie ran through possible locations where his headstrong partner could be. As he mulled over ideas, he couldn't help but wonder what the devil had happened between yesterday and today. They'd parted company after a few pints around 10 pm the night before. Cowley's phone call ordering Bodie into his presence came at 3 pm. Doyle had told Bodie he had plans for his day off, which included riding that cantankerous nag he called Billy, much to Bodie's disgust.

Wrenching the steering wheel of his Capri, Bodie knew exactly where Doyle would be: at the stables where he boarded his horse. With his flat keys turned in, there was nowhere else for Doyle to go. Anyway, Doyle wouldn't leave London without making sure his treasured pet was given proper care no matter what had happened to cause him to resign from CI5 without a by your leave to his best mate.

Within the hour, Bodie was turning down the long drive approaching the stables. Doyle's motorbike was the only vehicle in sight and he couldn't see any people about.

Instinctively, Bodie touched his gun and checked that he had two extra clips in his pocket. He parked the car and turned off the ignition. Climbing out, he stood surveying the area.

All was quiet, and even the usual smells of horseflesh, hay and manure were absent.

Closing the door gently, Bodie was mindful of the sound of his own footsteps and the pounding of his heart. Hell, he could hear himself breathing. Strange...

The aura of the entire area made Bodie shiver, and it wasn't the cold that made him start to sweat freely. As he walked into the stable where Doyle's horse was kept, a trickle of perspiration ran from between his shoulder blades to his belt. He even held his breath, quietly removing his gun from its holster.

As he walked past the stalls, the horses inside never moved. Bodie cast a quick glance at the nearest animal. It stood very still, flanks moving as it breathed, but otherwise, the horse seemed to be carved out of stone. Bodie's skin crawled as he move forwards. It took all of his courage not to call out Doyle's name.

Why not? Why not call out Doyle's name? Why did the very idea raise gooseflesh on his arms? What the fuck was going on here?

A few more steps and Bodie would be at the stall of Doyle's horse. Gun drawn, Bodie actually jumped when he finally heard a sound that came from behind him. As he turned, he raised his weapon, ready to fire at a moment's notice.

The figure moved quickly towards him, a huge pitchfork held aloft, ready to pierce him. He almost fired, but instinct stopped him. The outline in the dim stable of a curly haired, slim bodied man alerted him as to who approached. As the tines came closer, Bodie somehow managed to move backwards, tripping over something underfoot. As he fell, he was able to shout only a single word:

"Doyle!"

-------------------------

"I'll kill you!" Doyle snarled, pushing the pitchfork against Bodie's chest. One of his feet pressed against Bodie's right ankle, keeping him in place. Bodie's gun, proof of his partner's duplicity, lay several feet away, gleaming dully in the straw on the stable floor.

Bodie's eyes widened as Doyle pushed down on the implement's handle.

"Doyle, for Christ's sake! Stop!" Bodie cried out as one of the tines pierced his jacket, shirt and vest and marked his skin. "Doyle! Ray!"

"She's mine, you fucking bastard! You can't have her!" Doyle could see the desire for his love on Bodie's face. He wasn't having it. She was his and his alone. No sharing birds this time. He was tired of Bodie always poaching and this time, there would be none of it.

"Get the fuck off me!" Bodie wrapped a hand around the pitchfork's wooden shaft and pushed.

Doyle kicked him sharply. He was pleased when Bodie cringed and let out a sharp cry.

"Why did you have to come here? I told Cowley! I told him!"

"Told him what, mate? Why don't you tell me?"

Doyle looked down, eyes narrowing. "Don't play the innocent with me, Bodie. Don't do it! I know you. You're a conniving, miserable bastard. You'd take your own brother's bird."

"You're not making any sense, Ray. You're hurting me!"

"Going to hurt you a lot more, Bodie. She's mine!"

"Christ! Stop!"

"He's lying, Doyle Ray. Go on. Do what you must. He's not a nice man, is he? He takes your women and your tea. He's never remembered your birthday."

Doyle smiled. Now that she was finally here, she would be able to see how he could protect her. Doyle ignored Bodie's pleas. He knew that Bodie was playing with him, trying to get him off guard. Talking, talking, talking in his devious way. Doyle knew why Bodie was here, to take this delightful creature that now stood beside him, away from him. He'd show Bodie who was the better man now, who deserved this flower, this precious gift.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Doyle, who are you talking to? Listen to me! Ray!"

Doyle blocked out Bodie's ranting and smiled at Velvet. "My sweet love. We'll be together soon, as you promised."

"Yes, Doyle Ray," she said, petting his arm. "Go ahead. Let me hear him scream just a little."

"Yes, my beloved." Doyle blinked slowly, smiling languidly. "Anything for you."

Doyle shoved the pitchfork down. Bodie's startled cry echoed off the walls.

"Shh," Doyle said softly, looking at Bodie as he writhed on the floor. "You'll startle the horses, mustn't scare the delicate animals." Doyle cocked his head and listened, pleased that in spite of Bodie's cries the horses were calm in their stalls.

"You're such a fine lad," Velvet crooned. "Finish him. Now, Doyle Ray, for me."

"Yes, my sweet precious girl."

------------------------

Bodie felt real fear when he looked up into Doyle's face. Bodie realised that Doyle wasn't even aware that he was on the brink of shoving ten inches of forged steel into Bodie's chest. In fact, he kept speaking to someone hidden in the shadows and from the tone of his voice this person had his full attention. Doyle looked positively radiant, smiling with eyes full of what Bodie could only describe as adoration.

"Doyle!" Bodie took advantage of Doyle's momentary distraction to wrap his hand around the shaft of the pitchfork and push up with all of his strength. Caught off guard, Doyle stumbled back and the pitchfork went flying.

Bodie rolled away, grabbing his gun. He stood up and clamped his left hand over the wounds in his chest. Thankfully, his leather jacket had deflected some of the sharp tines, but the one that had been pushed against his shirt had broken the skin. It stung like the devil but for the moment at least, Bodie couldn't afford to take his eyes off Doyle.

Doyle's own eyes suddenly filled, his attention still held by whoever hovered in the shadows. Doyle's lower lip quivered and Bodie couldn't help but follow Doyle intent gaze. He gasped when a figure emerged from the dark corner.

It floated. No other word for it, Bodie mused. What the hell was it? A face became clear; female, very old, with shrivelled skin that hung in folds along the cheeks, eyes sunken, dark in colour with bright red rims and a mouth that was thin with white lips. The figure's body was almost invisible, reed thin, hunched over, with gnarled hands. A ghost, was Bodie's first thought, but even that thought made him dance away from the very idea.

Bodie stared at the apparition. For a moment, the figure shimmered and he was looking at a beautiful woman, young and slim, with long blonde hair and shining blue eyes. He blinked once, twice, and the vision morphed back into the old crone.

The crone was beside Doyle in seconds. It held his attention and he spoke to it constantly. Bodie couldn't believe it when Doyle declared his undying love and devotion to the horrid creature. Tears ran down Doyle's face as he pleaded with the old woman to love him. Bodie felt sick seeing his formidable partner reduced to this grovelling state.

When the apparition moved away from Doyle, he started to wail aloud, crawling on his hand and knees, reaching for the spectre. As Doyle begged between his sobs, Bodie's anger grew. Ghost, apparition, revenant, Bodie didn't give a fuck. It wasn't getting his partner.

No matter what.

But how to dispatch it? Even more importantly, how to free Doyle from the spell that had hold of him. As much as Bodie disbelieved in such things, he couldn't deny what he was seeing before him.

"Ray!"

Bodie holstered his weapon and fell to his knees in front of Doyle. He clamped strong hands on Doyle's upper arms and dragged him to his own knees. Face to face, he roughly shook his friend. "For Christ's sake, Ray! It's me! Look at me. It's not real, mate. Please, Ray."

Doyle's eyes were glazed and his attention on the ghost never wavered. Bodie had a moment's trepidation about turning his back on the revenant, but he reckoned that if the creature had the ability to harm him, it would have done so already. It made sense, as much as any of this did, to think that it must have to use a flesh and blood human to carry out its wishes.

Think, Bodie told himself. Its desires seemed clear. It wanted Doyle, body and soul, as its slave. And it wanted Bodie dead. But there was no way in hell it was getting what it wanted, not while Bodie still had a breath left in his body to fight for Doyle.

But how? Shoot it? Ineffective. What else? Bodie racked his brain, trying to remember childhood fairy tales about repelling ghosts and goblins. A crucifix? Salt? Holy water? Garlic? He almost laughed at the last item. This wasn't a vampire.

"Christ, Doyle!" Bodie had to do something. He smacked Doyle across the face. Hard. "Bloody hell, Ray!" He hit him again.

Bodie forgot just how quick Doyle was. Before he took another breath, Doyle had wrenched himself from Bodie's grasp and slugged him right on the nose.

Doyle hit him again. Bodie defended himself, and they were soon fighting in earnest. Punches were thrown, connecting with soft flesh and hard bone. They scrabbled on the wooden floor of the stables, rolling across it, one way then the other. Doyle had the upper hand and hit Bodie hard on the jaw. Bodie shouted in pain, smashing his fist into the side of Doyle’s head. Doyle flew sideways to land in a heap. Not taking a chance that Doyle would start up again, Bodie launched himself on his partner. He pinned Doyle's hands down at the wrists and sat heavily on Doyle’s thighs.

Doyle shook his head, blinked slowly, and growled up at Bodie. Bodie was breathing heavily as he pushed his full weight down onto Doyle who growled again. Doyle licked his lips and for a moment, Bodie thought he could see realisation and understanding dawn in those green depths. It was fleeting though, and in the next breath, Doyle was writhing under him as he called out to the apparition, begging her for help.

As Bodie held onto Doyle and caught his breath, he looked around. The revenant moved from out of the shadows and held out a ghostly hand to Doyle.

"He's mine!" Bodie shouted, shocked at his own words.

The apparition paused then moved forwards again.

Bodie let out a shaky breath. "Get way. Ray Doyle belongs to me!"

The creature stopped again, this time for a longer span of time. Why had it stopped? Somehow, Bodie's declaration had an effect, if only for a moment or two.

With his mind going full tilt, Bodie wondered what would happen if Doyle was truly his. Did this thing cast some sort of a love spell on its victims? What would happen if he declared his love for Doyle? What would happen if he actually kissed him?

Bodie's eyes narrowed at he glared at the revenant. "Ray Doyle is mine," he said very clearly. "I love him. Go away."

Then he leaned down and kissed Doyle. Doyle's lips were dry and chapped and the kiss wasn't at all romantic or sweet but the moment their mouths touched, Doyle fell still. Bodie didn't press the kiss further, merely rested his lips against his friend’s. The very thought of forcing more on Doyle made his stomach lurch. He waited.

After a few moments, Doyle started to return the kiss. At first, he barely pressed his lips against Bodie's. Bodie let Doyle control what would happen next. Doyle lifted his head from the floor, chasing Bodie's mouth when he moved back. He began kissing Bodie in earnest. Bodie moaned softly, now returning the kiss, yet he still kept the passion flaring in him at bay. Doyle opened his mouth and Bodie groaned again. When Doyle's tongue touched his, he shuddered.

Unable to hold back any longer, Bodie released his hold on Doyle's wrists and gathered Doyle closer to him and with their chests pressing together, Doyle wrapped his arms around Bodie and held on tightly. Their kisses grew in fervour and Bodie could feel Doyle's arousal press against his own. They both groaned as they rubbed against each other, mouths never parting.

Doyle squeezed Bodie until Bodie thought his ribs would crack. Bodie was lost in the moment and he ignored the pain from the wound in his chest and the creak of his ribs as he thrust against Doyle. Doyle ripped his mouth away and let out a cry as he shuddered in Bodie's arms. As Doyle came, Bodie heard a far off scream of frustration. It became fainter until it faded away completely. Bodie held Doyle just as tightly, knowing Doyle needed to feel wanted, to feel loved. Doyle buried his face in Bodie's neck and let out a quiet noise that sounded deceptively like a sob. Bodie stroked Doyle's back.

From a distant memory from long ago, Bodie remembered a love spell. He didn't believe in such things, but his gran had a bit of the fancy about her. The words burned brightly in his mind and the darkness seemed to require a light, so he said the words aloud:

"Water from above and fire from below,
grant me a fine love that I can know;
Our hearts together will shine,
as this love will be forever mine."

Even as he finished the last word, a sense of peace descended around them. The darkness was gone, only light remained.

In Bodie's arms, Doyle took a shuddering breath. "Bodie. Bodie."

"Shhh."

"You didn't... You don't..."

"It's okay, luv."

"I need..."

"All right." Bodie kissed Doyle's cheek, tasting the salt from his sweat and tears. "Touch me, then."

Doyle pressed his palm against Bodie's hardness, making him shiver. Doyle rubbed and whispered into Bodie's ear, "Thank you. Thank you."

Bodie shook from Doyle's light touch all he needed to release the tension, to release his need. Now it was Doyle's turn to hold him as he trembled through his orgasm.

"God, Doyle."

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop. She seemed so real, so wonderful. After Ann..." Doyle clutched Bodie. "But I knew. In my heart, I knew she wasn't real, but I wanted... I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry as well. Should have said something about how I felt."

Doyle smiled. "It's all right. You're here now."

"It's over."

"Yeah." Doyle shivered; Bodie tightened his hold. "I felt as if I was dreaming. I don't know... I couldn't wake up. Was awful, Bodie. Felt like I was drowning, like I couldn't breathe." He leaned heavily against Bodie.

"What the hell happened?" Bodie asked redundantly. He knew full well what had happened. Somehow, impossibly, something -- fairy, demon, ghost or gremlin -- had managed to take over Doyle. Bodie didn't know what to call it, nor did he care. He only cared that it was well and truly gone.

And that he had Doyle for his own.

Bodie cautiously glanced into the shadows, double checking, but nothing seemed to lurk there. He then realised that the horses were moving in their stalls. He could hear the shuffling of hooves. One of the animals was drinking and another let out a soft snicker. He blinked. From outside he heard the bark of a dog and the yap of a fox. He could even hear a plane overhead, high up in the sky.

The world had returned to normal.

Well, maybe not quite the old normal. But Bodie was happy with what he hoped would be the new normal, he and Doyle, together in more than a CI5 partnership and a matey friendship.

Lovers. The thought made Bodie both happy and scared as hell.

"Come on, Ray. I need a drink."

Bodie helped Doyle to his feet. He picked straw out of the damp curls and brushed dirt off his own bottom.

"Jesus, Bodie, you're bleeding! Did I do that? Oh, God..."

"It's nothing, just a scratch. A bit of antiseptic and a plaster or two, and I'll be right as rain."

"You're a fucking liar, mate. I'm sor-"

Bodie's fingers touched Doyle's lips. "Enough. It's over. And I'm fine. Got it?"

Doyle looked into Bodie's eyes for a long moment before he finally nodded. "I need a sodding shower. Bodie..." Doyle looked hesitant.

Bodie smiled. "Yeah?"

"You saved me."

Bodie nodded, unable to keep the satisfaction from his tone. "'Course. It's me job. Remember when you said I'd save you? Back along the river, a few years back?"

Bodie was pleased to see Doyle laugh. "You great clown, I do remember. I just didn't expect you to kiss me to save me."

Bodie swallowed and looked down, suddenly feeling unsure. "Are you mad about that?"

"Mad? Fuck no. Was good."

Bodie looked into the smiling green eyes. "Really?"

Doyle grinned. "I'm sorry it took a mess like that, but I'm chuffed about what we did. Can we do it again?"

"Love to, mate. But in a proper bed. After a drink." Bodie touched Doyle's arm.

Doyle grabbed Bodie's hand and squeezed. "After a drink and a shower. And after I tend to your wounds. Then in a proper bed."

Bodie looked at their entwined hands. A wash of pleasure ran from his toes to his hair. He actually got gooseflesh from the feeling. "I've satin sheets I've been saving for a special occasion. You'll look smashing on blue. This certainly seems like a time to use them."

Doyle caught Bodie's happiness. He grinned from ear to ear. "I'm a lucky bloke. Got me a knight in shining armour who can dispatch unearthly creatures and who comes complete with new satin sheets."

They walked off together, arms around each other's waists, to shower and drink... and make love on cool blue satin.

Bodie had successfully banished the darkness. Maybe he had a bit of The White Knight in him after all.

End

Title: Stolen Soul
Author: LilyK
Genre: Slash, Horror
Pairing: B/D
Size: Approx. 4,400 words
Summary: Doyle is swept up in something strange and Bodie must figure out what to do next.
A/N: Thanks so much to

ankaree,

dracyvevixen, and

londonronnie for helping me get this into shape on such short notice.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

tango65.livejournal.com

That was great - love it when one of the boys is the Knight in shining armour for the other. Very original story and I love the way Bodie saves Doyle. Thanks!

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Re-Discovered On All Hallows Eve Story: Stolen Soul

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