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Ack - left it too late to do a decent job on this one. I've dithered about not posting it, but I now have several unfinished fics on my hard drive and I have discovered that if left there they tend to linger - there's no such thing as the Finishing Fairy :( So I will post this here, but it does need tidying up a bit lot.
(With grateful thanks to
kiwisue for the image of the 1981 Marathon route, which was the inspiration)

‘Lost ‘em!’ Bodie thudded along the alleyway and Doyle slammed to a halt beside him, panting. ‘Bastards can run, I’ll give ‘em that.’
‘Where the hell did they go?’
They searched the little cul-de-sac. Doyle rattled a wooden gate. ‘Must’ve gone through here. Locked.’
Bodie raised an eyebrow, and then a foot. After the door crashed open: ‘It’s not now,’ Doyle grinned, and followed his partner through into the passageway behind. They moved cautiously although they were sure the robbers they were chasing had gone. They searched the few hiding places swiftly. Bodie was investigating another locked door when a whistle from Doyle attracted his attention. His partner was turning over some clothing in a bin. Jeans, dark jumpers, a woollen hat – all clothes the guys they were chasing had been wearing.
‘They changed?’
‘Yeah. Now we don’t know what we’re looking for,’ said Doyle in disgust.
‘They’re bloody quick change artists, though. We’re only a few minutes behind them.’
‘No bag either. Did they just leave the stuff here to be ready for them? Surprised it didn’t get pinched.’
‘And thinking about it, no shoes. What did they have on their feet?’
‘Trainers. All three of them. New trainers, quite flash.’ Bodie raised his eyebrows and tipped an imaginary hat in salute to his partner’s observational skills.
‘They’ve still got His Excellency’s girlfriend’s diamonds, though – didn’t leave those in the bin, did they?’
‘Nope – better get after them, then.’
The two agents had been peripherally aware of a dull roar, but on following the passageway they burst out into a road which was blocked by a crowd of people.
‘We’ll never get through here!’
‘Quick, round here and up!’
A mad scramble later, up fire escapes, over roofs and down again, and the two of them found themselves on Cinnamon Street, about to join the crowds watching the later stages of the London Marathon on Wapping High Street. They pushed through to the barriers. The runners going past were tired by this stage, and the crowd were cheering them on, shouting to encourage them. The elite runners were long gone, and these were the ordinary runners who had entered the race for charity, or to challenge themselves. The dogged determination was showing, and the pain, and one poor soul had collapsed over by the barrier and was being tended to by the St. John’s Ambulance staff.
‘I reckon we’ve lost ‘em, sunshine.’
‘The Old Man’s gonna be furious.’
‘Yep, one diplomatic incident coming up.’
They stood for a moment, an island of gloom in the madly-cheering crowd.
‘Hang on a moment. Those three – you reckon they’ve run twenty-odd miles?’
Doyle looked at the runners his partner was indicating. They had the correct bibs, the right sort of kit and they were sweaty enough. But they looked full of energy, unlike most of the others around them, and they lacked the single focus of the true marathon runner, instead glancing around them nervously. One caught Doyle’s eye and gave a start of panic. He nudged his companion and they took off at speed through the tired pack.
‘Oi!’ Bodie and Doyle cleared the barrier from a standing start and were off after them, weaving through the runners at a sprint. The thieves increased their speed but the partners had a clear view of them and were closing rapidly.
‘Three! Can’t shoot – too crowded.’
‘Put the first one down, go for the next. I’ll get the furthest.’
With that, Doyle sped up and overtook the first man. He grinned as he heard a howl of anguish behind him, then ignored it as he drew level with the second man. By this time the crowd had caught on that something out of the ordinary was happening, and the third bloke was trying to vault the barrier and push the bystanders out of his way. Doyle made a huge effort and caught his leg as the thief thumped a spectator who was trying to restrain him. Flipping the man back over the barrier and onto his front down on the ground, Doyle handcuffed him briskly and leaped up to see where Bodie was. Runners were still weaving round them, marshals were heading towards them and on a collision course were two large policemen, talking urgently into radios. Doyle waved his ID as he spotted his partner, manhandling one limping pseudo-runner back down the course against the flow of determined people still running, walking or staggering towards the Tower.
They collected all three of the thieves and got them off the course and back to HQ. Searching them, they were unsurprised to find the diamonds.
‘International incident averted!’
‘Pay rise, d’you reckon?’
‘Better than that, sunshine!’
‘Better than a pay rise? Are you feeling quite all right there? Sun gone to your head, has it?’
‘No, listen, seriously – do you realise what we’ve just done?’
‘Yeah, I told you – averted an international incident. Rescued the Albanian ambassador’s reputation. Made Cowley proud. Well, not that last one, like, but –‘
‘Made Macklin proud, you mean. We just ran in the London Marathon, mate!’
‘Doy-ul…’
‘Honest, we did!’
Bodie sighed, and took his partner by the arm. Drawing him to one side, he explained, ‘Raymond, you really need to learn to think these things through. Never, ever tell that nutter we ran in the London Marathon.’
Doyle blinked at him. Bodie continued patiently, as if to a small child, ‘You tell him we ran in it and he’ll ask how and why. He’ll find out we ran all of quarter of a mile. Next year he’ll have us running the whole bloody thing!’
‘Oh. Good point. So you don’t fancy it, then?’
‘No. Only lunatics would put themselves through this voluntarily. No one runs for fun.’
‘Right. Pick you up at 6 tomorrow though, yeah?’
‘Yes, of course. Can’t miss our run.’
Title: Accidentally discovered in the Marathon
Author: Murphybabe
Pros-Lib: Not yet, thanks – it needs a bit of work L
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle
Rating: gen
Word count: 976
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: No profits were harmed by the writing of this fic – I don’t own them and I do it all for lurvvve
(With grateful thanks to
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‘Lost ‘em!’ Bodie thudded along the alleyway and Doyle slammed to a halt beside him, panting. ‘Bastards can run, I’ll give ‘em that.’
‘Where the hell did they go?’
They searched the little cul-de-sac. Doyle rattled a wooden gate. ‘Must’ve gone through here. Locked.’
Bodie raised an eyebrow, and then a foot. After the door crashed open: ‘It’s not now,’ Doyle grinned, and followed his partner through into the passageway behind. They moved cautiously although they were sure the robbers they were chasing had gone. They searched the few hiding places swiftly. Bodie was investigating another locked door when a whistle from Doyle attracted his attention. His partner was turning over some clothing in a bin. Jeans, dark jumpers, a woollen hat – all clothes the guys they were chasing had been wearing.
‘They changed?’
‘Yeah. Now we don’t know what we’re looking for,’ said Doyle in disgust.
‘They’re bloody quick change artists, though. We’re only a few minutes behind them.’
‘No bag either. Did they just leave the stuff here to be ready for them? Surprised it didn’t get pinched.’
‘And thinking about it, no shoes. What did they have on their feet?’
‘Trainers. All three of them. New trainers, quite flash.’ Bodie raised his eyebrows and tipped an imaginary hat in salute to his partner’s observational skills.
‘They’ve still got His Excellency’s girlfriend’s diamonds, though – didn’t leave those in the bin, did they?’
‘Nope – better get after them, then.’
The two agents had been peripherally aware of a dull roar, but on following the passageway they burst out into a road which was blocked by a crowd of people.
‘We’ll never get through here!’
‘Quick, round here and up!’
A mad scramble later, up fire escapes, over roofs and down again, and the two of them found themselves on Cinnamon Street, about to join the crowds watching the later stages of the London Marathon on Wapping High Street. They pushed through to the barriers. The runners going past were tired by this stage, and the crowd were cheering them on, shouting to encourage them. The elite runners were long gone, and these were the ordinary runners who had entered the race for charity, or to challenge themselves. The dogged determination was showing, and the pain, and one poor soul had collapsed over by the barrier and was being tended to by the St. John’s Ambulance staff.
‘I reckon we’ve lost ‘em, sunshine.’
‘The Old Man’s gonna be furious.’
‘Yep, one diplomatic incident coming up.’
They stood for a moment, an island of gloom in the madly-cheering crowd.
‘Hang on a moment. Those three – you reckon they’ve run twenty-odd miles?’
Doyle looked at the runners his partner was indicating. They had the correct bibs, the right sort of kit and they were sweaty enough. But they looked full of energy, unlike most of the others around them, and they lacked the single focus of the true marathon runner, instead glancing around them nervously. One caught Doyle’s eye and gave a start of panic. He nudged his companion and they took off at speed through the tired pack.
‘Oi!’ Bodie and Doyle cleared the barrier from a standing start and were off after them, weaving through the runners at a sprint. The thieves increased their speed but the partners had a clear view of them and were closing rapidly.
‘Three! Can’t shoot – too crowded.’
‘Put the first one down, go for the next. I’ll get the furthest.’
With that, Doyle sped up and overtook the first man. He grinned as he heard a howl of anguish behind him, then ignored it as he drew level with the second man. By this time the crowd had caught on that something out of the ordinary was happening, and the third bloke was trying to vault the barrier and push the bystanders out of his way. Doyle made a huge effort and caught his leg as the thief thumped a spectator who was trying to restrain him. Flipping the man back over the barrier and onto his front down on the ground, Doyle handcuffed him briskly and leaped up to see where Bodie was. Runners were still weaving round them, marshals were heading towards them and on a collision course were two large policemen, talking urgently into radios. Doyle waved his ID as he spotted his partner, manhandling one limping pseudo-runner back down the course against the flow of determined people still running, walking or staggering towards the Tower.
They collected all three of the thieves and got them off the course and back to HQ. Searching them, they were unsurprised to find the diamonds.
‘International incident averted!’
‘Pay rise, d’you reckon?’
‘Better than that, sunshine!’
‘Better than a pay rise? Are you feeling quite all right there? Sun gone to your head, has it?’
‘No, listen, seriously – do you realise what we’ve just done?’
‘Yeah, I told you – averted an international incident. Rescued the Albanian ambassador’s reputation. Made Cowley proud. Well, not that last one, like, but –‘
‘Made Macklin proud, you mean. We just ran in the London Marathon, mate!’
‘Doy-ul…’
‘Honest, we did!’
Bodie sighed, and took his partner by the arm. Drawing him to one side, he explained, ‘Raymond, you really need to learn to think these things through. Never, ever tell that nutter we ran in the London Marathon.’
Doyle blinked at him. Bodie continued patiently, as if to a small child, ‘You tell him we ran in it and he’ll ask how and why. He’ll find out we ran all of quarter of a mile. Next year he’ll have us running the whole bloody thing!’
‘Oh. Good point. So you don’t fancy it, then?’
‘No. Only lunatics would put themselves through this voluntarily. No one runs for fun.’
‘Right. Pick you up at 6 tomorrow though, yeah?’
‘Yes, of course. Can’t miss our run.’
Title: Accidentally discovered in the Marathon
Author: Murphybabe
Pros-Lib: Not yet, thanks – it needs a bit of work L
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle
Rating: gen
Word count: 976
Warnings: none
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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