May Day - Part Seven

[schnuffi.livejournal.com]

Keeping his eyes on the Cortina, Doyle flashed a toothy grin at Bodie. The other car had problems getting past the 3 others between them and was weaving in out of traffic like mad. Doyle made sure the Cortina was clear before he screeched into a narrow side lane. About halfway down he hit the brakes at full speed and did a nice turn, blocking the whole street.

A few seconds later the other car came fishtailing round the corner. For a moment Doyle thought he might have miscalculated as the other man desperately tried to avoid collision. With smoking tires he managed to make the slide and the cars came door to door about two inches to spare. Doyle let out his pent up breath. Bodie recovered more quickly and was out of the car in a second. As both Doyle and the other driver were blocked, they had to wriggle out on the passenger side. Meanwhile Bodie was strolling over to the Cortina and looked relaxed to all of the world.

Finally the other guy also managed to fold his long frame out of his motor. Bodie stopped and started swearing under his breath. Doyle looked at their fellow agent, who had a rather sheepish grin on his face. Another master move by Cowley - of all people he had chosen Murphy to tail them. The one man on the squad who was so bloody honest and polite it almost hurt. And a good friend. But at least they'd be able to get the latest rumors out of him. With another broad grin he clapped Bodie on the shoulder and marched over to where Murph was leaning against his car.

May Day Part Nine

[draycevixen.livejournal.com]

They’d been back in the car for five minutes, the unusual silence between them broken only by the sounds of Bodie shifting around in the passenger seat.

“Spit it out.”

“What?’

“I can hear your brain turning over from here. Well, at least I could if it were really located in your arse… You can’t sit still.”

“At least they look incriminating, and that's all Cowley cares about. What you said about the photos.”

“Wasn’t going to tell Murphy anything he doesn’t already know.”

“It was more than that Ray. You sounded… wistful.”

“Wistful?”

“Like you wished none of this had happened.”

“Too bloody right.”

“None of it?”

“You didn’t have to confirm Cowley’s suspicions.”

“Those photos Ray were—”

“Nothing. All they really showed from that angle was the two of us standing a little too close together.”

“My hand on your cock—”

“Not visible in those photos. You could’ve just been showing me something—”

“I was, I—”

“Job related. Something job related. We were there on a job.”

“Well the way your head was thrown back was pretty—”

“Could have been laughing at a joke.”

“Cowley had to know sooner or later if we’re going—”

“It was just a hand job, Bodie. He didn’t have to know—”

“Right then.”

Doyle pulled the car into the curb and parked.

“Looks like the joke’s on me. Don’t worry. We’ll get this sorted for Cowley and it’ll be just like it never happened. I’m sorry, Ray.”

Bodie was out of the car, on the move, before Doyle could stop him.

“Bugger!” Doyle slammed his hands on the steering wheel.

May Day - part eight

[byslantedlight.livejournal.com]

"You couldn't follow your granny to the corner shop!"

"Terrible, isn't it?" Murphy agreed, unrepentant. "All that training wasted."

"Almost as if you wanted us to see you…"

"Almost. Care to tell me where you're off to, save me the bother of losing you and having to find you again?"

Doyle looked around at Bodie, standing solidly behind him, shook his head at Murphy, still smiling affably.

"Alright, how about the best pub to meet you in tonight, and you can tell me all about it then?" Murph reached out and clapped them both on the shoulder, gave them a shake for emphasis. "I'm not your enemy. Cowley's not your enemy. He wants this sorted as much as you do."

Bodie shrugged him off, brushed at his shoulder. "And then what?"

"And then what, what? Business as usual!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Come on Bodie," Murph tipped his head, smiled at the both, "We're all on the same team, you know. Whatever Cowley thinks you've done…"

"Whatever…" Doyle began, cut himself off abruptly. Murphy didn't know. Cowley hadn't shown him the pictures, hadn't even told him what this was all about. And if he didn't know, then maybe the Cow would play this close to his chest – maybe no one else on the squad would know either. "It's a mistake, is what it is. And we can find out who made it a lot quicker without having to dodge you for the rest of the day, alright?"

"I've gotta tell the Cow something!"

"Tell him you lost us. It's the truth – almost," Bodie suggested.

"He'll have my guts for garters. He knows we're mates, he'll think I did it on purpose! He wants to help. Whatever it is…"

Doyle rolled his eyes. "You're fishing, Murph. It's photos – incriminating photos. Or at least they look incriminating, and that's all Cowley cares about."

"What, you two…?" Murphy's eyes were wide. "You mean...?"

"Only thing you'll catch with that technique is old boots, mate," Bodie shook his head sadly.

"Drugs," Doyle interrupted, "They've been a little selective about the angles they chose, so it looks like…"

"…you're taking 'em not examining them," Murphy finished for him. "Bloody 'ell, you can be sacked for… I mean…"

"It's alright, Murph, we know what you mean. Look, we'll meet you in the Bell and Badger around nine tonight, okay? Let you know what we've found out and you can feed it back to the Cow like a good lad tomorrow."

Murphy nodded philosophically. "Alright – I'll even get the first round in, how about that?"

"Too right you will!" Bodie took Murph by the shoulder, turned him back towards his car, and gave him a gentle shove. "Now will you get out of here, and let the real experts get back to work?"

He flashed them a final grin before manoeuvring the Cortina back onto the road, waved a long arm out the window, and disappeared around the corner.

"Right then," Bodie said, picking a small silver device from under Doyle's collar, "Let's get going again, shall we?" He looked around the quiet road, lined with warehouses on one side and the backs of businesses on the other, shrugged, and took the bug over to the only other vehicle in sight – a red Lada standing squarely outside what advertised itself as "Khumal's Carpets – please ring top bell for deliveries" – sticking it firmly under the wheel arch.

Doyle grinned, and turned back to the Audi. They'd find Marty, get Bodie tooled up, and then – he lost his smile – then he knew just where to start tracking down a certain intrusive photographer.