(no subject)

[kiwisue.livejournal.com]

Bodie shoved him into the half-open door, which swung shut with a head-rattling crash sending a new constellation of stars orbiting in Doyle's head. Doyle tried to stand up, but Bodie was pressed up against him, closer than before, pinning him against the solid wood.

"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."

May Day! Part 19

[hambelandjemima.livejournal.com]

Doyle’s side of the bed was empty when Bodie left it to answer an early morning call of nature. Once dealt with, he tied the belt of Doyle’s spare dressing-gown –- it was two sizes too small for Bodie and ended mid-thigh, but it kept his dangly bits from shrivelling up in the cold –- tightly around him and made his way to the kitchen for some much needed caffeine.

 

Doyle sat at the table, a frown on his face and the offending photos spread out in front of him.

 

Bodie stepped behind him, feeling muscles tense under his hands as he leaned on Doyle’s shoulders.

 

“Kettle’s boiled,” Doyle told him as Bodie bent his head down for a kiss.

 

“And good morning to you too, my little ray of sunshine,” Bodie greeted unperturbed, planting a wet kiss on Doyle’s cheek before taking the proffered mug. He contented himself with making the coffee and plonked both mugs on the table before sitting down himself.

 

“Come on, then, I could hear your brain working from the bedroom. Woke me up, it did. What’ve you got worked out in your curly bonce?”

 

Doyle ran a hand over his face and leaned back in the chair. “Hell if I know,” he admitted. “Someone has gone to the trouble of setting up a camera to take photos of us in a place where even we didn’t know we were going to be. Why? Why not just bug our flats?”

 

“Too much security,” Bodie replied, simply.

 

“Yeah, ok,” Doyle conceded, slurping his coffee. “But why set up a random place to catch us in? Unless there was more than one place set up…… Or…..”

 

“Or what?”

 

Doyle put down his coffee and grabbed at the envelope as a thought struck him. “No note, no blackmail attempt,” he mused, examining it again.

 

“What if it wasn’t us being set up?” Bodie asked, his voice grim. “They were expecting someone else and got us instead?”

 

There was silence as they digested the information.

 

“Pretty thin,” Doyle said.

 

“Paper thin,” Bodie agreed. Then, “We’ll need a list of who was at that Embassy party.”

 

“It’s Saturday,” Doyle pointed out. “Civil servants don’t work weekends.”

 

“Well, these ones do, if they want to stay civil servants,” Bodie declared, clearing a space on the table. “Come on Ray, we’d best get remembering.”