discoveredinalj | Day 1 - Enough To Try The Patience Of A Saint

murphybabe posting in

Okay, let's hope this works because LJ does not love me.

Here is the story of an irritated Bodie on a stake-out with his new partner. Bodie doesn't think they should be on a stake-out, and if Doyle had kept his mouth shut Cowley wouldn't have sent them on this very boring obbo. It's all Doyle's fault...

‘I can’t believe this!’ Bodie glared at his partner as he prowled the bare room. ‘Stuck on an obbo in a cold, empty house because some prat couldn’t keep his trap shut?’

Doyle had his eyes fixed firmly to the binoculars set up at the window, so felt justified in ignoring the other man’s rant.

‘Don’t you know yet not to answer Cowley back?’

This being obviously a rhetorical question, Doyle chose not to dignify this one with a response either.

‘Oh, so you can shut your gob on occasion, then?’

All right, this was getting harder. Doyle gritted his teeth and stared diligently through the binoculars.

Deprived of a target, Bodie resumed his search for something to occupy him. They hadn’t had time to bring anything with them such as a flask of tea or a newspaper. All the room contained was a battered table, two rickety chairs, one of which Doyle was using in his vigil at the window, a moth-eaten rug and an old chest. The light was dim, the wallpaper was brownish, and there was a picture on the wall but Bodie couldn’t tell what it represented because it was brownish as well. It could have been a landscape. He decided to put off studying it until he was really bored.

He looked over at Doyle again. The man was obviously ignoring him because he knew he was in the wrong. Twat. He’d have to get back at him for this somehow. An obbo, for someone of Bodie’s talents, indeed. Fair enough, their partnership was relatively new, but to give the arrogant bastard his due, Doyle was bloody good. They were surprisingly good together, it had to be said. Bodie hadn’t expected that. He hadn’t wanted a partner, and if he’d had to have one, he’d rather have been paired with one of the other ex-military types – Anson, perhaps, or Murphy, both good blokes. But not – not! – an aggravating, mouthy, by-the-book ex-copper. A plod, but one who looked like a rent-boy, all tight jeans, open shirts and curling hair. And Bodie wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.

To take his mind off that, and other things, he resumed his search of the room, absent-mindedly adjusting himself in his cords as he went. The chest. Not Doyle’s chest, which was as usual on view. Wasn’t the bloke cold? It was perishing in this bloody room, but the man only had the lower buttons done up on his shirt and it was gaping so that his chest hair was peeking out of the top and the curve of his pectoral muscle could just be seen –

The other chest. ‘Aha! Books!’

‘Didn’t know you were of a literary turn of mind.’

‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me, sunshine – bugger!’

‘Sorry?’

Bodie stared down at his prize forlornly.

‘Benson’s Commentary on the Old and New Testaments, Calvin’s Commentaries on the Bible, Wesley’s Explanatory Notes, Thomas Aquinas’ Golden Chain Commentary on the Gospels, The Gospel of John: A Theological Commentary, The Gnostic Scriptures by Bentley Layton – oh, and here’s a good one: the Book of Saints. Who the hell lived here, then?’

‘Dunno. Some old bloke.’

‘Piss-poor taste in books.’

Bodie picked up the only one that looked vaguely readable and flicked disconsolately through the pages.

‘Hey, this is better. Tells you which saints are for which days. What’s today’s date?’

‘First of December.’

‘First of December, first of December…’ There was silence as he read. ‘Oh, yeah!’ He chortled. ‘This is brilliant!’

‘What?’

‘Ha! Wait till you hear this!’

Doyle shifted uncomfortably on his chair. He hadn’t known Bodie that long, but he knew he’d really pissed him off by answering Cowley back that morning and getting them both sent on this obbo. This sudden glee wasn’t promising.

‘Are you ready? Lugs pinned back? Then I’ll begin.’ Bodie assumed a sanctimonious tone as he read from the book.

‘December the first – St. Eligius’ Day. Eligius – blah, blah – he was this goldsmith, right? But most goldsmiths at the time were really corrupt, sounds like, but not old Eligius. You listen to this: "And from that which he had taken for a single piece of work, he was able to make two. Incredibly, he could do it all from the same weight for he had accomplished the work commissioned from him without any fraud or mixture of siliquae, or any other fraudulence. Not claiming fragments bitten off by the file or using the devouring flame of the furnace for an excuse, but filling all faithfully with gems, he happily earned his happy reward." That’s you, that is – Doyle the incorruptible copper!’

‘Ah, piss off!’ Doyle was irritated. Would the man never let up, going on about his time in the Force?

‘An’ not only that, it goes on! It gets better! “He was tall with a rosy face. He had a pretty head of hair with curly locks. He had the face of an angel and a prudent look. At first, he was used to wear gold and gems on his clothes, having belts composed of gold and gems and elegantly jeweled purses, linens covered with red metal and golden sacs hemmed with gold and all of the most precious fabrics including all of silk. But all of this was but fleeting ostentation from the beginning and beneath he wore a hair shirt next to his flesh and, as he proceeded to perfection, he gave the ornaments for the needs of the poor. Then you would see him, whom you had once seen gleaming with the weight of the gold and gems that covered him, go covered in the vilest clothing with a rope for a belt.” So, what d’you reckon, Doyle, you got a hair shirt under there, huh? You certainly wear vile clothing at times, though I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you wearing a rope for a belt.’

Doyle flung the binoculars on the floor and turned to face Bodie.

‘You bastard! You’re going to tell everyone, aren’t you?’

‘Ah, ah, Doyle, eyes on the subject,’ Bodie replied primly, his own eyes sparkling. ‘Mustn’t let personal considerations get in the way.’

‘You Scouse git! How come I get landed with you, eh?’

‘Well, it could just be,’ Bodie referred to the passage in the book again, ‘that I’m more like King Dagobert: “swift, handsome and famous with no rival among any of the earlier kings of the Franks…”

His voice tailed off as he read the rest of the paragraph: “ he loved him so much that he would often take himself out of the crowds of princes, optimates, dukes or bishops around him and seek private counsel from Eligius.” Hmmm. Better not tell Doyle that bit. He searched hurriedly for another inflammatory bit of text. Ah, here was another good bit.

‘Oh, and here you are again, look, “Dado recalled his propensity for weeping, "For he had the great grace of tears."’

‘Right, that’s it, you bastard!’ Doyle launched himself across the room at Bodie, who, taken unawares, stumbled and fell awkwardly underneath Doyle. A scuffle ensued, during which Bodie unaccountably got the giggles. Doyle, who was only thumping him halfheartedly, stopped and peered at him from his perch on Bodie’s chest.

‘What is it with you?’

‘Lemme up!’

Doyle wriggled back down Bodie’s body and halted abruptly.

‘’Ello – something you’re not telling me?’

Bodie blinked up at him slowly. All desire to laugh had suddenly left him.

‘Might be.’

Doyle wriggled again, deliberately.

Bodie flexed. ‘Something you’re not telling me now, sunshine?’

‘Thought I just did.’

They stared at each other, caught on the dusty floor.

The RT went off and they scrabbled to answer it. It was Cowley, calling them back to HQ as the suspect had been sighted elsewhere.

Bodie followed Doyle downstairs and out of the building to the Capri. Before they got in he paused to look at his partner over the silver roof.

‘Oi. Take this up later?’

Doyle gave him a long, lingering look. ‘Works for me.’

Hmmm. Perhaps there might be something in this partnership thing after all.

dbdbdbdbd

Title: Enough to try the patience of a saint
Author: Murphybabe
Pros-Lib: Yes, please
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle
Rating: everyone
Word count: 1353

Warnings: none

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Eligius
Disclaimer: No profits were harmed by the writing of this fic – I don’t own them and I do it all

for lurvvve

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milomaus.livejournal.com

It works, it works!!

Yay, the first post to open and it's fic!!!
How wonderful, thank you sooo much!

I'll comment again, as soon as I've figured out what to post tomorrow...*ggg*

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Day 1 - Enough To Try The Patience Of A Saint

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