[identity profile] constant-muse.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] discoveredinalj
Happy New Year!

And hark!, there’s a tall, dark man 500-word ficlet knocking on the front door of your LJ… May it bring you good fortune in 2011.



“5, 4, 3, 2, 1…Happy New Year!!!”

With the racket of howling bagpipes from the telly, the peal of bells from the church down the road, and the raucous mates chanting “Auld Lang Syne” in his living room, Doyle only just heard the buzz of his door-bell. Bodie was cutting it fine!

Unlocking the door impatiently, Doyle turned to head back to the party before they both missed all the hugging and kissing, expecting his partner hard on his heels. Instead a suave voice came from the landing outside.

“Aren’t you going to invite the New Year in, Raymond?”

Doyle turned again, and this time looked properly at the dark, handsome man framed in the doorway, holding, he now saw, not just the expected bottle of whisky, but also a lump of coal.

“Yeah, alright,” he grinned. “Come on in, mate.”

Bodie strode across the threshold.

“Happy New Year, Ray.”

With that, he wrapped an arm firmly around Doyle’s waist and kissed him. It was warm, wet, whisky-flavoured, and Doyle didn’t want it to end, but too soon the others were piling into the hallway.

“Bodie! The tall, dark, handsome stranger!” cried Maggy, all Glaswegian.

“Who’re you calling strange, lassie?” Bodie snatched a kiss along with the glass of bubbly Susan handed him.

“Let’s all go first footing!” came the cry, and “You coming, Doyle?”

“Nah, I’ll stay put, thanks,” he heard himself saying, head still spinning.

Bodie managed to shrug them all off as well, and Murph was appointed first-footer in his place. Benny, who had once been in Edinburgh at hogmanay, said the Cow wouldn’t approve because Murphy’s eyebrows met in the middle, but the girls insisted he was tall, dark and handsome enough for the job.

Clutching booze, coats and hats, the party exited the flat noisily.

--------
In the sudden still, Bodie carefully placed the crumbly black shape on the white-gloss-painted shelf over the gas fire. Doyle looked on as more bits and pieces appeared from the pocket of Bodie’s leather jacket to join the coal.

“You’ve been in the south too long, my son,” Bodie chided. “Letting the New Year in through the front door brings in the good luck. The coal’s for fuel, the bread’s for food, salt for plenty, and the silver coin for wealth.”

He knew it, vaguely, though first-footing wasn’t done where he came from –
touching, though. Gaze misting, he kept looking down at the gas flame. Bodie was beside him, softened by the glow from the fairy lights.

“You kissed me back there,” Doyle began, with a surreptitious sniffle.

“Yeah,” Bodie was nonchalant. “It’s traditional, you know…”

“Oh, ‘s that all? I thought perhaps you meant it.”

An arm came around his waist. Close up, he could feel Bodie’s heart, beating fast.

“Well, perhaps I did.”

Easier now, they leaned in to each other.

“Why all this, then?” Doyle asked.

“It’s taken so much luck to get this far, Ray, I don’t want it to run out on us now.”


Title: First footing
Author: Jaycat
Slash or Gen: slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: yes
Disclaimer: Bodie and Doyle and CI5 characters do not belong to me, I just like to borrow them, play with them nicely and give them back.
Notes: This ficlet was born and mostly written in early January 2010, but it needed the right date for posting.

Profile

discoveredinalj: Discoveredinalj icon by Cesta (Default)
Discovered in a Livejournal

September 2022

S M T W T F S
    123
45678910
11121314151617
181920 21222324
252627282930 

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 10th, 2025 04:42 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios