Waiting

[merentha13.livejournal.com]

Rain splatters the windscreen, painting the world with Monet’s brush, adding tears to his reflection in the glass. Ignoring the blood soaking through his jeans, he anxiously watches the warehouse, its flames battling with Mother Nature’s downpour. Bodie is still in there.

Pain and Cowley confine him to the Capri. He loses himself in the sound of droplets drumming on the bonnet. His awareness drifts.

Voices intrude. One voice, close to his ear, pulls him back.

“What’s all this, then?” his partner gently caresses a wet cheek.

His consciousness sliding away, he manages a smile. “Was waiting for you.”

Ode to a Lemsip

[callistosh65.livejournal.com]

"Sit up and wrap your hands around this."

Doyle blinks himself semi-upright and stares at the mug.

"Wrap 'em around something else, if you like."

He tries a leer, but what with the watery eyes, unwashed hair and red nose, it's not a particularly tempting offer.

Bodie thinks about actually petting him, but he can wait.

Twenty minutes later, the Lemsip is in, and Bodie has a furnace plastered to his ribs.

"Always so cold," slurs Doyle, pressing into his neck. "'S nice."

Bodie sighs, squeezes, all mock sufferance.

Truth be told, he rather likes a Doyle on Lemsips.

Two Day Drabble Challenge: Snatch Back

[hambelandjemima.livejournal.com]

Doyle raced along in the Capri, intent on only one thing.

Someone had taken Bodie and Ray Doyle was taking him back.

The radio crackled into life. "Alpha to 4.5."

He snatched up the mike. "4.5."

"Report to base. Immediately."

"Sir, I'm in pursuit-"

"The car you are following has diplomatic plates. You are to return-"

"I'm sorry, sir, I must be going out of range. I can't hear you."

"Return to HQ, 4.5!"

"Sorry, sir, I'll try another channel." He threw the mike down and, as an afterthought, turned the radio off.

He had a partner to snatch back.

Two Day Drabble Challenge: Cowley's Incorruptibles

[hambelandjemima.livejournal.com]

Once upon a time there were two little boys. One became a soldier, fighting for any cause as long as he was recompensed. He fought for money, food, and a safe place to sleep. The other joined the police force, passionate about civil rights and seeing justice done. He fought for truth, for the common man.

Both used intuition along with the skills they were taught in defence and attack; they were adaptable, knowledgeable, professional.

They were each assigned very hazardous duties.

But I took them away from all that and now they work for me.

My name is Cowley.

(no subject)

[squeeful.livejournal.com]

They were in a world of trouble. Doyle's hit and Bodie's nearly out of bullets, but the rain of gunfire won't stop just because they need it to.

"Hold on," is all he can really say. Please has never been a part of his vocabulary before this.

All his life Bodie has never had anyone he's cared about like this, not enough to give up everything. No one, not parents, not friends, not even the women he's professed to love. But now he has Doyle tucked up to his chest, blindingly trusting of him, and suddenly he gives a damn.