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May. 15th, 2008 12:57 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
"Bastard," Bodie murmured, for the third, or maybe the fourth time.
Doyle tried to speak, but the words were stuck somewhere deep in his throat. He groaned instead. And winced with pain, as Bodie grasped his jaw and his thumb pressed into the exact spot where his fist had landed, moments earlier.
"Why'd you do it, Ray?" Bodie's voice was louder now, rough with…. something. Doyle searched Bodie's face, looking for a clue. He saw blue eyes staring back at him in an impassive face. Nothing to read there. No anger, no pain, nothing to guide him. Just Bodie. Implacable and deadly serious.
"Was… we're doing it wrong, Bodie. Didn't mean to hurt you … but …have to think properly."
The fingers holding his jaw relaxed a little.
"I'm listening."
"You want to tell Cowley everything. I didn't – still don't. But we have to stop arguing about it. Gotta find the photographer, sort him out. Fix it. We do that, and you still want to put Cowley in the picture… talk about it then. OK?"
"Maybe."
It was like talking to an iceberg. Bodie didn't react. Then something broke open inside and he felt himself falling into the crack, surrendering himself. It was blessed relief and it hurt like hell.
"No… I'm sorry. I'm a complete idiot. Can't be trusted if I won't trust you, right? We'll do it together."
Heart thudding, he waited. Then Bodie's expression switched from grim to grin as he dragged Doyle away from the door and pushed him towards the bedroom.
"Bodie! Wait! What are you doing?"
"You are going to lie down. I am going to make an icepack for your face and drink some of your gin. Then I am going to lie down beside you and we are going to talk about what we do next." Bodie's grin widened. "I think we might communicate better if we’re both horizontal."