Two Day Drabble Challenge: It's A Start

[potztausend.livejournal.com]

Title: It’s a Start
Author: Potztausend
Beta: shooting2kill (thanks!). Every remaining mistake is mine.
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle
Genre: Drabble
Archive: Yes
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and I don’t make money with them. I wish I could do at least the owning.

„You cannot deny it!“ Ann’s eyes were sparkling with anger.

„No, I can’t, but it doesn’t mean anything.“  

„It was your arse, Ray. Your arse!“

„Ann, that’s nothing special. It’s...“

„...nothing to get excited about? Are you serious? So Bodie might grope your arse during our wedding ceremony too?“

In the living room next door Bodie listened to their argument. Sitting with his legs apart on the sofa he looked very smug. Next time he would trip over something and hang onto Doyle’s hip, perhaps the front hip bone, close to Doyle’s zipper. It was just a matter of time. 

Sure

[moonlightmead.livejournal.com]

"Alpha one to 3.7. Where's that partner of yours?"

At first, such a request to either was unproductive; was to be greeted with a faint air of defensiveness. Unspoken: what business of mine is it how he spends his down hours?

Eventually, they gelled. Now each always had the answer, cavalier and blithe.

But then an uncomfortable period indeed. Still they claimed knowledge of where the other was to be found: but sometimes in aggressive certainty, sometimes with sour suspicion.

These days, they don't always know where the other is. Yet casual assurance issues from them.

Cowley doesn't know why.

Discovery

[moonlightmead.livejournal.com]

How had he come to be guarding his partner? Doyle's ID confiscated, security going through his flat, Cowley beyond fury.

"Fucking security risk to end all risks, you... "

"Say it, Bodie! I can hear it whether you say it or not!"

"Doesn't need saying then, does it? My partner, caught trousers down - literally, Doyle, literally - mid-case, and not even with the bloody bird."

Silence, a silence to end trust, hope and partnership.

"Bodie. Which one you jealous of?"

"What?"

"Which one? This matters, Bodie. Of him? Or me?"

Silence. A silence to begin trust. Hope. And partnership.

Trust

[merentha13.livejournal.com]

Smokey green eyes meet doubtful blue. Ray can feel the hunger in their depths. He gently squeezes the hand loosely entwined with his own to reassure. There is no response.

“It’ll be good, Bodie. I promise.”

“I dunno, Ray.”

Bodie looks away.

Ray’s fingers run a gentle caress over pouting lips.

Bodie shudders under the touch.

“You trust me, yeah?”

“With me life, but this...”

"Ah, Bodie. What am I gonna do with you?”

Ray gets up and stands behind his uneasy partner, massaging stiff shoulders.

He feels Bodie tense.

Frustration wins.

“Christ sake, Bodie, its just a fuckin’ salad!”

Two Day Drabble Challenge: Every Time

[gideonbd77.livejournal.com]

Well, I'm not from Pogo Pogo, but I technically live in the future of Americans and British folks due to my timezone. :P Here's my contribution to this drabble challenge.

Title: Every Time
Author: Gideon BD
Pros-Lib/Circuit Archive: Yes
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle
Rating: PG
Word Count: 100

At 9AM every Wednesday, they come to my bakery for bread, croissants and Danish butter cookies. Two lovely old fellas: Will, tall, pale and handsome with thick, white hair, and Ray, wiry with a full head of salt-and-pepper curls and an impish grin.

Ray was shot in the heart decades ago. Twice. Will becomes reticent whenever Ray talks about it and draws nearer to Ray, a strong, old Oak sheltering his sun. But one touch and smile from Ray, and he beams once more, alight. Alive.

And when they leave, they walk side by side, hand in hand. Every time.

Heart

[hagsrus.livejournal.com]

Shots exploded and Rahad's fleeing car clipped Bodie. He fell, momentarily stunned and winded. Heard Doyle's panicked shout.

Here was Doyle, rolling him onto his back, seeking his heart.

He wrapped his arms around Doyle, pulling him down into a desperate embrace. "Never knew you cared."

"Of course I bloody care!" Doyle snarled and crushed an angry kiss onto Bodie's mouth.

Bodie forced a laugh. "Never knew you cared."

And they joked about blanks in Doyle's gun.

Later, in the moments before his solitary sleep, Doyle whispered, "Of course I care," and longed to feel again that safely beating heart.

Stars

[solosundance.livejournal.com]

Back then his best mate shut him in the coal-hole.  For a dare or a joke or just because it was flaming well there. 

Doyle had chewed his knuckles, yelled abuse.  He’d emerged smoky-faced, heart hammering under cover of a cocky smile.  Gave his former best mate the juiciest black eye.

These days random injustices came in deeper, blacker pits.  With shackled wrists and taped up mouths, him and his best mate both in it up to their necks.

But that was then and this is now.

The flashing beacon of Bodie’s eyes, endless hope in a night without stars.

(no subject)

[kiwisue.livejournal.com]

There was a collection box on the main desk inside the Seamen's Mission. Bodie fed loose change into the slot, coins chinking coldly against the bottom of the tin.

"Take more than spare coin to replace this door," Doyle observed. They'd made a right mess of things, chasing after Gunderson.

“Cowley will indent for it, but the personal touch never hurts." In this newly minted partnership Doyle was the sentimental one, never Bodie.

The remains of the shattered glass panel littered the floor. One Flying Angel in need of new wings. One CI5 agent touching his past – gone, not forgotten.

ETA: I exchanged 'not' and'never' because I thought the emphasis was better. Also I can't help fiddling *g*