Round Robin - Start

[empty-mirrors.livejournal.com]

The crowd milled, mindless government employees chattered, drinks were supped. Feeling like a cross between a stuffed shirt and a spare groom at a wedding, Bodie worried at his bow tie and tossed a hopeful look at his partner. For two hours they'd suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous speeches, surely no one would miss them if they slipped out now. Duty done. They'd had plans for this evening, and none of them involved the brainless blondes from the Home Office that Doyle was busy chatting up.

Much to Bodie's annoyance, Doyle ignored him. That would never work. If he wanted to Doyle to himself - and the aforementioned plans had included just the two of them in Bodie's bed - he had to at least get Doyle to listen.

In such circumstances, there was only one solution, and that was rhubarb.

Leaning forward, so his chin propped uncomfortably on Doyle's shoulder, Bodie gave the idea a whirl. "Rhubarb."

The conversation ground to a halt as all attention turned his way. Bodie grinned. Mission accomplished. "It's what extras say in crowd scenes," he offered by way of explanation.

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[asymphototropic.livejournal.com]

"Please to understand. I am scientist. Not diplomat. Not, how you call it, spook?"

"Except that you were haunting a graveyard. Rather spooky, you ask me," Bodie ran his fingers across the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache forming there.

They were seated at a tiny rustic table in a kitchen of vast dimensions. Doyle had scared up some tea bags. Probably for the convenience of the servants. Unimaginable that the regular upstairs inhabitants would drink of any offering so very plebeian.

Bodie was surprised to note, his partner's hostility already had melted into sympathetic interest.

"It is molecular biology, this problem. Oh, not my invention, I do assure you, citizens. I am 'clean up person', you understand, da? A virus, very subtle, very complex. It acts on each individual, different ways. Sometimes, death is like flu that progresses to pneumonia. Sometimes sudden heart problem, or clotting to look like stroke. And sometimes, death looks like..."

"Poisoning!" Doyle's excitement was tangible, his green eyes brilliant with enlightenment.