Discovered in the Holly and Ivy: Day 10: Fiction: A Date with a Palm Tree and an Angelfish

[longstrt.livejournal.com]

Note: This story has updated the timeline of the lads to the present day so that certain legislation is relevant.

It was the fifth, EXCEEDINGLY BORING day of surveillance of some minor thug named Timmons or was it Simmons. Bodie could never remember, besides he had lots more important things to do with his time.

Seated on the ramshackle bed that Bodie suspected was home to several crawling creatures, Bodie’s handsome face was scrunched up in an obvious attempt to remember something very important. His pink tongue, slightly twisted, stuck out of his soft lips as he tried to remember the various gifts of the twelve days of Christmas. Bodie was not a sentimental man – definitely not, but this year was special. He was definitely, most definitely, interested in what a TRUE LOVE would give to his beloved for Christmas gifts, and he figured that with this little ditty, he would have some good suggestions.

Unfortunately, Bodie’s memory was not up to snuff. He could remember the partridge, of course, and the nine lords a-leaping (he really wanted to see that, wondering how they would be dressed), and a few others had come to mind, but after getting down some swans, some pipers, some drummers, and those ever lovely maids whose snow white hands must really give the grope to the milking, his memory failed; so he resorted to his next best option, he called out to his human encyclopedia in a commanding voice, “Hey, what was handed out on the 12 Days of Christmas?”

For a time, there was no response, but then the golden words of the Oracle of CI5 was heard, chanting out the various gifts bestowed by the TRUE LOVE onto his beloved. Bodie wrote them down quickly in his most illegible scrawl, almost biting his protruding tongue as he tried to keep up with the Know-It-All, who, Bodie was sure, had never practiced one day of modesty in his life.

Of course, having no modesty did come in handy sometimes as Bodie readily recalled as he remembered some really revealing times that had occurred in the showers of CI5. When the list was finally complete, Bodie blew a kiss to the human encyclopedia who had been manning the surveillance effort for the last hour or so. “Thanks, oh Master of All Thought and Knowledge; just for that you’ve earned me buying you a drink at your local after our shift ends tonight.”

Raymond Doyle briefly turned around to take a five second stare at his partner then quickly returned to his duty. Clearing his throat, Doyle queried, “Are you telling me that YOU’RE buying the drinks tonight?”

Bodie smiled to himself, well aware that he had bought the drinks from the pub EVERY night for the past five days. The legend of the frugality of Raymond Doyle was known to one and all in CI5, so it was not surprising that Doyle wanted to make it perfectly clear who would be spending the money.

As Bodie’s affirmative answer was heard, Doyle’s eyebrows shot up in splendid approval of the anticipated bliss of visiting his local in the company of his favourite person in the world as well as tasting some drinks.

Bodie was well aware that his promise was going to cost him a premium amount this evening, but it was the Christmas season, and while Bodie would be the first to admit that he was not sentimental - - not in the least, he did like to spend time with Raymond Doye and watch that lascivious mouth gulp down several Bodie paid-for drinks.

“I hope you’ll remember my largesse when you are selecting my Christmas pressie.”

Doyle turned quickly to stare at his partner of seven years, then said, “Oh, sure, sure. I wouldn’t forget, mate.” The lack of sincerity in the Doyle response bothered Bodie slightly since he was planning to deluge Doyle with a pressie that he hoped would overwhelm Mr. Scrooge Doyle.

While Doyle continued his observations, Bodie looked carefully at his list of gifts for the Twelve Days of Christmas. As a suggestion list for what to get the man who has everything, it really wasn’t much help. He doubted if Doyle was really interested in any calling birds, French hens, or turtle doves, but then he noticed the fifth day and wondered if he dared gamble with what he held most precious?

Sighing, Bodie noticed the time and deviously popped up with the suggestion that he take over the watch so that Doyle could rest after doing due diligence with his job. “After all, we know you older agents need more naps than we more splendid specimens of manhood.”

Bodie could hear Doyle’s snort from across the room. In less than a month, Doyle would celebrate his 40th birthday, and Bodie knew that Doyle had been thinking a lot about his future. Bodie knew that Doyle was better than 99% of the agents in CI5 and Bodie had really not been concerned about Doyle continuing on the streets, but Doyle was concerned and that was enough for Bodie.
The two men changed places and quiet settled in for all of five minutes when Doyle burst forth with a question, “Why you wantin’ to know about them gifts?”

Bodie felt like he had swallowed his Adam’s apple as he realized that he really hadn’t thought up a good lie for his curiosity so he stuttered around and then came up with what he thought would satisfy the curious gentleman with the perfect nose.

“Well . . . well, I’m tryin’ to decide what to buy and I thought those were gifts that I might buy for someone. After all, it says that ‘my true love gave’. . . so I thought it might help me figure out what to buy.”

Doyle stared at Bodie’s back, absolutely speechless. “You . . . you going to give someone some geese, some swans, and those other things? Are you nuts?”

“No, of course not, you dumb crud. There’s not much there that is practical, but I had forgot the list and THAT’S why I was askin’.”

“Well, I guess the golden rings aren’t so bad.”

“That’s what I thought. Sounds good to me, but you know with my salary, I can’t afford five so I’ll guess I’ll just have to settle for one.”
“So . . . so you’re going to buy a gold ring . . . for somebody? Are you the TRUE LOVE that’s talked about?” Bodie was busy watching a stranger wandering up to the house that was under observation, and did not heard the insecurity and fear in Doyle’s question.

Suddenly, Bodie shouted out, “We’re on; it’s Douglas at Schriver’s place!” With that both men ran from their place of observation into the action across the street.

Several hours later, the two agents celebrated the successful arrest of Douglas and his cohorts. Since there was now no need to continue the obbo, after Bodie and Doyle arrested the malcontents at the Schriver House, they went directly to the pub.
Bodie immediately noticed Doyle’s lack of talking during their drinking session. It was obvious that something was on 4.5’s mind, but Bodie couldn’t think what it could be unless it was his impending 40th birthday. After several minutes of one way conversation, Bodie broke the silence with a daring question, “You pregnant?”

For a moment Bodie thought that Doyle hadn’t heard, but finally the curly-head turned towards him. Doyle’s shining green eyes looked bewildered and shell-shocked as he whispered, “Yeah, that will teach me to let just anybody get friendly with me.”

Bodie’s dark eyebrows shot up in the air, “Tell me, son. What dastardly varlet did such a thing to you?”

Doyle seemed to hesitate then asked with even more hesitancy, “Would you believe Murphy?”

“What? You sayin’ our young, inexperienced, wunderkind, had his way with you?”

“Something like that.”

“Something like WHAT?”

“Well, it was in the shower at headquarters, several prurient, sickos were standing around watching the gorgeous bodies parading to the shower. They was whistling and making gestures so Murph cleared them out and then escorted me to the showers where he promptly pinched my bum.”

“Pinchin’ your bum don’t get you pregnant!”

Doyle’s forehead scrunched up under his long curls in confusion, “It don’t?”

“Nah, that just gets your face slapped; is Murphy still alive?”
“Of course. I just invited him over for Christmas dinner.”

Bodie stood there stunned, “You invited him over for food after he had just used his perverted phalanges to touch your intimate body parts?”

Doyle nodded.

“Man that’s sick. You are one sick puppy.”

“Well, you touch me there all the time, and I leave you alive.”

“That’s different.”

“How is that different?”

“Well . . . well. . . I got honourable intentions.”

“What’s THAT supposed to mean?”

“It means that I better invite myself over to your flat for Christmas dinner to protect you from that licentious pervert.”

“Oh, well, what are you going to bring to add to the meal? Murphy’s going to bring some oysters. He says they are a real aphrodisiac.”

Bodie stood staring at Doyle with the same face that he had had the night that Doyle had first called him a priapismic monster. Not quite sure what Doyle meant, Bodie fell back on sheer witlessness, “You know you can get twenty years for that kind of thing?”

“Nah, it stopped being a crime in the 60’s when you were an itty bitty boy.”

Bodie shot a look at Doyle that told him that his partner thought he was a moron. “Why am I just finding this out about you and Murphy?”

“Why would I be expected to tell you about my personal life? You don’t share with me, so why do I got to share with you?”

Bodie’s face suddenly went red then a sickly shade of white. He looked around the pub, just now seeming to realize where he was. He felt as if he were going to lose consciousness or something. He managed to stutter out, “I . . . I . . . I’m sorry; forgot my place. See ya.” With those words Bodie turned around and walked out of the pub, looking as if desperately needed fresh air.

Normally Doyle would have followed him, but he was as badly shaken as Bodie. Realizing that somehow he had hurt his partner, Doyle stood staring into space for several minutes. By the time he pulled himself together, Bodie was long gone.

Doyle immediately drove over to Bodie’s flat, but the lights were not on so Doyle stared at the dark building for several minutes before he pulled away from the kerb a badly shaken man. The curtain in Bodie’s flat moved slightly as the tall, ex-merc stared out into the darkness, his long eyelashes slowly raising and lowering, at the departing Doyle. Now what was he going to do?

There were only three days until Christmas, but, as usual, CI5 took little notice of the coming holiday. It was true that it was no longer like it had been earlier with the IRA and its holiday bombing campaigns, but there was always crime and mayhem that the agents of CI5 had to deal with and George Cowley made sure that the agency was up to its peak level of efficiency.

As Ray Doyle sauntered into headquarters, he noticed a well-known, handsome Irishman lounging against the wall of one of the corridors. Normally, Murphy would be “resting” in the restroom so something must be brewing if the lanky body of one Thomas Colin Murphy was not slouched on the derelict sofa that inhabited the equally scrungy restroom.

Doyle was legendary for his golden tongue and the way that he used it to such effect; therefore, upon seeing the laconic Murphy available for discourse, Doyle uttered those immortal words, “You and Sheila plannin’ to have an orgy this Christmas?”

Murphy’s handsome face immediately took on an outraged look as he stood relatively straight and responded vociferously, “Just because you behave like that with every bird that throws herself at you, or is it the reverse, does not mean that I am less than a gentleman with Sheila.”

Doyle being less than impressed, he looked bored and queried further, “That mean she threw you over for someone more handsome?”

“NO! It just means that she has a flight that day and needs the money.”

“Oh ho, so your charming personage is no longer enough to attract her to give up the pittance just to be with you?”

Murphy ‘s handsome face immediately took on a look of incredulity. “Of course not, she worships my body, but she’s saving up her shillings for something and won’t tell me what, so I guess I’ll be alone this holiday.” These last words were said with a douleur so heavy that it was practically dripping on the floor.

Doyle immediately realized that his problem was solved since he had told Bodie that “little lie”. “I see, how ‘bout coming over to my place, I got some fixins’ in the house so we can have a nice meal?”

Murphy, normally being a suspicious man, queried hesitantly, “What’s it going to cost me?”

“Nothing! I got everything in the house so just come over.”

Smiling his most radiant smile, Murphy replied, “That’s great. What time do you want me there?”

Doyle looked like he was now contemplating the question of the ages, finally coming up with 13.00 hours. “That’s 1 o’clock in the afternoon for your marvelous brain. Toodle oo, and I’ll see you then.”
Doyle began to head down the corridor, but knowing full well what Murphy was staring at. Doyle whirled around to stare at Murphy’s lascivious perusal of Doyle’s gorgeous bum. “Oh, by the way, oh lucky visitor to the Doyle domain, bring two or three bottles of wine to have with my deliciously prepared meal, and make sure that it is not plonk but some exquisite bouquet!”


Murphy stood staring at the amazing chutzpah of 4.5. Shaking his fist at the departing slender figure, Murphy shook his head and started off down the hall in the opposite direction. Unfortunately, he had barely gone five paces when he ran into a tornado that was threatening to sweep all before it.

Thomas Murphy had never been really afraid of William Bodie. The two had hit it off as soon as they met, and their work together as partners when Doyle was busy had added to their friendship so Murphy was not really concerned as he saw the ex-merc come barreling towards him. As the slightly shorter man got closer, however, Murphy noticed the flame in the deep blue eyes and knew that, for some reason, he was in big trouble. Figuring the best part of discretion was in backing away from the force that was heading towards him, Murphy took several steps back towards the corridor wall. Trying not to show his apprehension, Murphy tried to maintain an innocent or at least not guilty face, but then Bodie stopped directly in front of him and perused him from the top of his shaggy hair to his feet.

To say the very least, the blood in Murphy’s veins froze as a truly malevolent stare shook him to the core of his being. What have I done? What did I do?

The look in Bodie’s eyes could only be described as vengeful and predatory as the soft lips asked, “You got a date for Christmas?”

Murphy was stunned. That didn’t seem to be such a dangerous question, maybe he was going to survive this after all. Unfortunately, Murphy’s nerves were pulled very taunt and his brain had stopped thinking, because the words he uttered next were as dangerous as putting a knife to his wrists. “Yeah, the delicious Doyle invited me over for some goodies.”
Murphy’s anxiety had not exactly permitted him to speak carefully and correctly since he had meant to put the word, delicious with the word goodies and that would be at dinner for them, but it was too late to correct himself, because Bodie’s muscled forearm was now pressed up against his throat, Murphy’s body was pushed back against the wall, and his larynx was feeling the pressure of a 13 stone man.

“Are you listenin’ good?”

Murphy wasn’t sure if he could speak so he merely nodded his head a fraction.

“You are going to contact Doyle and tell him that you can’t make it on Christmas, do you understand?”

Now since Murphy knew that Doyle was an excellent cook and that he would be missing a fantastic meal, for one nanosecond Murphy did contemplate telling Bodie that he couldn’t be ordered around, but since he had not been able to breathe for the last 30 seconds or so, discretion won once again as Murphy nodded.

Suddenly, the pressure on his neck was decreased dramatically, but Murphy’s throat ached so he merely whispered, “Supposed to take some wine.”

Bodie looked confused since he couldn’t really hear Murphy, but he thought he had said, “Got to take a vine.” So Bodie felt it his duty to question Murphy’s recent golden words.

With his face scrunched up in confusion, Bodie asked, “What kind of vine am I supposed to take? Isn’t that a bit ridiculous to take a vine when I could just take a bottle of plonk or something?”

Once again, Murphy’s thinking was scrambled, mainly due to his impatience with the nitwit standing in front of him and his aching throat, “NOT a vine, you idiot - - some wine and it better be expensive cause that’s what Doyle’s expecting!”

A bland look came over the handsome face as Bodie realized that this Christmas was going to cost him a bundle, but he knew that Doyle was worth it. Realizing that he had to answer, Bodie took the opportunity to reveal his cerebral capabilities by replying, “Oh,” and withdrawing his arm from Murphy’s body.

Bodie quickly turned and headed towards the exit while Murphy continued to stare at the departing agent wondering quite frankly how close he had come to having his body parts rearranged. For the next moment, Murphy stood absolutely still with his hands rubbing his throat as he contemplated his narrow escape.

Suddenly, Bodie whirled around and looked at Murphy, giving him his most innocent smile. “Happy Christmas, Murph!”

Murphy felt like he had just swallowed his Adam’s apple as Bodie rapidly departed the scene. Astonished at the change in Bodie’s demeanour Murphy waited a moment as an epiphany hit him hard. Smiling, Murphy murmured to himself, “So, that’s the way it is. It’s about time.” He did not waste a great deal of time contemplating what had just occurred, he just shook his head in amazement, as he began to wonder what Sheila’s roommate, Brenda was doing for Christmas, before he too departed the corridor, talking to Doyle totally forgot.

BDBDBDBDBDBDBD

“AWWWW, COME ON, ANSON, it’s just 15 minutes!!!!!!, “ whinged the handsome ex-merc to his partner for the day.

“No, if I gotta stay, so do you.”

“But, it’s Christmas Eve and I haven’t got me shoppin’ done yet. I need to get some wine.”

“Ta, ta, ta!”

“That’s what I like about you, Anson - - your silver tongue.”

For a moment the room where the two men were contemplating their navels and the villains across the street that they were supposed to be watching was totally silent, then Anson spoke up, “Tell you what oh great friend of mine. This is just for you ‘cause I know you’re hard up to get a date for Christmas, but I’ll let you go 15 minutes early if you do the following.”

Bodie’s eyes lit up and he saw freedom looming, but knowing Anson he still was a bit leery so he asked with hesitancy, “What do I got to do?”

“Give me ten pounds, work my shift on Boxing Day, and take Berenice’s cousin out on a date this holiday since she’s in town.”

“FOR 15 MINUTES?????? FORGET IT, I CAN WAIT.”

Anson was a lot brighter than people gave him credit for so he realized right away that he had asked for too much (Berenice’s cousin was way too much) and carefully retreated to a more manageable position. “Okay, okay, give me the ten pounds and you’re out of here like lightning.”

Bodie grinned and handed over the ten pounds, heading towards the door like a greyhound out of the gate. “So long, Anson, and . . . oh, Happy Christmas!”

Anson never took his eyes off the house across the street, while he shouted out with a smile on his face, “You better get good wine, or Doyle will throw it back at you!”

Bodie was half way down the steps before his mind computed what Anson had just shouted, but he only held the thought for a second,’ I wonder how he knows it’s for Doyle’, before he put it out of his mind, and ran to his car.

BDBDBDBDBDBDDBD
Ray Doyle had spent the day preparing the Christmas meal that he hoped Murphy would like. He had never fed Murphy a large meal before. If anybody had come to eat his Christmas meal, it was usually Bodie, the human food masticator. He had never had to worry about Bodie being “picky” about eating, except maybe lima beans, but this was different because maybe Murphy didn’t like some of the things he had prepared. He was certainly glad that he had not spent a great deal of money on a super large, giant size Swiss roll like he usually did. Of course, Swiss rolls were Bodie’s favourite, but since he wasn’t going to be here . . . Doyle stopped himself right there. He had promised himself that he would not think about Bodie. What had he done wrong that had angered Bodie so much? He was just glad that Murphy was coming because he would have been a very lonely Christmas without the tall Irishman. Doyle just hoped that Murphy got some good wines.

Everything was just about ready when the buzzer sounded at his front door. Doyle smiled because Murph was slightly early. I’ll bet he’s hungry. Doyle rushed to the front door and opened it, prepared to see Murphy’s handsome face. What Doyle saw, however, was a body with one arm wrapped around a huge package partially wrapped with a tail sticking out where some of the cellotape had come loose. In one almost hidden hand was some wine, and in the other hand was what looked like a cake container. Recognizing the figure standing before him, Doyle’s chin dropped because he was speechless.

From somewhere in the interior of the travelling gift display oozed the words, “Well, are you going to let me in?”

Doyle pulled himself together and demanded to know, “Bodie, what are you doing here?”

Suddenly, Bodie’s handsome face peeked out from behind the large packaged tail, an innocent smile spread across the handsome face that Doyle hadn’t seen in three days. “Happy Christmas, Murphy couldn’t come; he called me and asked me to substitute for him, so here I am.”

Doyle tried to keep the look of rapturous joy off his face but he failed slightly. Waving his hand to signal Bodie to enter, Doyle took a more careful look at what Bodie was carrying and asked, “What’s all this then?”

Once again Bodie smiled, but this smile was more hesitant, “Well, Murphy contacted me this morning and said that he was gravely ill, practically at death’s doo,r and he wondered if I could take his place at today’s goodies’ parade at the humble Doyle abode. Of course, I had to call the numbers in me little
black book and let all those birds down, but here I am, and I come bearing gifts. This is for you, handing over the partially wrapped pressie. Grinning as if it were a major joke, he then said provocatively, “An angelfish for my Angelfish.” In addition, he handed Doyle a rolled up piece of large paper. “Murph said he was supposed to bring wine so I brought that,” holding up two bottles with an expensive label, as well as a very large cake box.

Doyle’s green orbs lit up as he spotted the labels on the wine, but then turned his suspicious eyes on the cake box. “And what may I ask is that?” pointing at the well-known box.

Looking sheepish, B odie replied in his most pleading tone, “Well, I didn’t think you would be stocked up with Swiss rolls so I brought me own.” Carefully setting the wine and the cake box down, Bodie showed the truly humongous Swiss roll to Doyle, Bodie beamed at it as if the long, luscious cake confection was his first-born then handed it to Doyle, who pretended as if it was so weighty that he might drop it.

“Well, I guess we can have that later . . . much later, after we sample some of the other goodies I’ve prepared.”

A gigantic smile spread across Bodie’s face, “That’s just what I’m ready for - - some of your goodies.”

Doyle gave him a strange look then led him into the kitchen so they could eat what he had prepared.

Much later, Bodie finally seemed to be done eating. He had truly stuffed himself and had loosened his belt three times. Bodie pushed back his chair and tried to get more comfortable as Doyle began to clear the table. For several minutes, he kept his back to Bodie as he organized the dishes to be washed and put away the leftovers. Bodie stared at the glorious bum that was so evident in the jeans that hugged Doyle’s body and waited . . . he knew that Doyle wouldn’t wait much longer to nail him for his recent behaviour. Within a few minutes, Doyle struck:

Whirling around to face Bodie, Doyle’s blazing green eyes stared for a time at Bodie and then Doyle asked, “What did I do that was so wrong? How come you’ve been avoiding me these last few days?”

The look on Bodie’s face turned to one of such deep despair that Doyle felt like he needed to take the deeply injured man into his arms and try to wipe all the misery of the world from those blue eyes. Finally, after several minutes of silence, Bodie whispered so that Doyle could barely hear, “How come you didn’t tell me earlier about you and Murph?”

Only now Doyle realized that Bodie had taken his teasing about Murphy seriously . . . very seriously, and that it had hurt the vulnerable man very badly.

Doyle dropped his chin to his chest, trying to figure out what he was going to say but the truth was the only solution, looking up into the blue eyes, Doyle whispered, “There’s nothing between Murphy and me, I thought you was teasin’ me when you asked if I was preggars so I made up that story. I’m sorry if you took it the wrong way.”

“How come you were havin’ Christmas with him then?”

Doyle closed his eyes, realizing how it must have looked to Bodie, but why should he feel badly, it had been Bodie who had walked out? Looking up defiantly, Doyle stared intensely at his friend and asked, “What difference does it make to you who I spend Christmas with; you’ve been bragging about Caroline and Mimi and the great time that you were going to have with them. I sure didn’t figure that I was too high on your priority list this Christmas.”

Now Bodie’s temper was on the boil which was obvious when he blurted out, “Yeah, BUT THEY’RE BIRDS, not some licentious Irishman with a big dong!”

Doyle stood staring, blinking his eyes over and over again. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Bodie was justifying this whole thing by saying that it was okay for Bodie to go out with birds, but Doyle couldn’t carry on with a man? Talk about a double standard.

Now Doyle was furious - - how dare Bodie tell him who he could have relations with! “Murph’s a good guy; I only wanted to feed him Christmas dinner ‘cause . . . well, I was feeling kind of lonely since my so-called best friend had deserted me.”
The two stubborn men stood three paces apart like rams getting ready to attack each other in a dispute over their lady love. When it looked like the next action would surely be fisticuffs, Bodie blurted out, “When do I get me pressies?”

Doyle stared stupefied then asked as he put his hands on his narrow hips and demanded, “What makes you think I got you any pressies?”

“’Cause I’m so lovable.”

“That’s to be debated, but suppose I did get you something? Maybe I changed my mind about giving it to you?”

“Well, since I brought that expensive wine that we are soon to partake of and some other pressies besides, I think it’s only fair . . .”

“Fair is it? What’s fair about me giving you gifts when you walk out on me, just because you think Murph is my fella?”

Bodie’s face became the epitome of misery, “Is Murph your fella?”

“Let me ask you a question first, ‘Why was it so important that you remember the gifts of the 12 Days of Christmas? “ Doyle stuck his perfect nose up into the air and demanded in a very pompous way, “Who are you the TRUE LOVE for?”

“Well, I know who I want to be my TRUE LOVE, but I’m not sure what they think of the idea.”

“I’ll take that for now, but you better do better than that or I’ll take my pressies back.” With those words he reached behind the sofa and pulled out a large rectangular box and handed it to Bodie.
A gleam list up in Bodie’s eyes as he quickly perused the neatly wrapped package and then literally tore into it with more gusto than a starving glutton at a buffet. Within seconds, he had it unwrapped and was holding up a gorgeous deep blue polo jumper. Bodie practically gasped as he said, “Doyle, this must have cost you a bundle. You shouldn’t have done it. This is the one I saw that day we were chasing that scumbag, Ziggy Ziggins.”

“Yeah, I saw how much you admired it so I bought it a bit at a time. Of course, I don’t know why I’m buying you another one of them high collar jobs; it must be warm, but takes longer to take off.”

“Very thoughtful, I’m sure. I guess you deserve a pressie too. Here you go.”

Doyle stared at the plain flat envelope for a moment and then grabbed it. Opening it quickly, he realized that it contained a reservation at a guest on the Scilly Island of St. Mary’s. Looking at it with confusion, Doyle asked, “What’s this then?”

“Don’t you know, you moron? The Scilly Isles are stuck out in that Gulf Stream so that it’s warmer there than the rest of this sceptered isle so in January it’s around 9 degrees Celsius which isn’t great but certainly better than what it is around here.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know about the Scilly Isles and their palm trees, but just how am I going to get there?”

“Well, if you look a bit closer, you’ll also see that there is a ticket for you to get there by boat. It’s a package deal for one week on St. Mary’s. You can take walks, visit the shops, just relax and enjoy yourself, and all the expenses are taken care off . . . “

Doyle was looking less than enthused so Bodie cut short his sales’ pitch, looking faintly like he had swallowed a slug.

“Don’t think much of it, do ya?”

Doyle studied Bodie’s face for a moment then said, “What am I gonna do all by myself? It’s great, but I don’t know about going by me lonesome.”

“Well, if you look carefully, you’ll see that’s it’s a double room and there are two tickets so you . . . well, you could take someone with you, if you want?”

“Are there any birds on this island?”

Bodie looked like he had just swallowed a whole family of slugs as he bleated out, “You goin’ birdwatching????”


“No, you moron, I meant WOMEN whom a healthy, red-blooded Irish boy like me could get acquainted with?”

“Oh.”

Doyle stood staring at his friend, a gleam shining brightly in his magnificent green eyes, “Or, maybe I could find someone who would go with me? I imagine this cost you quite a bit of money, Bodie, so I wouldn’t want to not take advantage of it. I wonder if Murph could get away for a week?”

Suddenly, Bodie’s face turned thunderous as he heard the name of the man he should have turned into guacamole when he had the chance. His eyes blazing, he headed towards the door, but Doyle was too quick for him. Within seconds, Bodie was pinned against the entrance door by a sinewy forearm. He was preparing to tell the scrawny man to get off him when the most delicious mouth in the kingdom stopped all thought by covering his lips and giving Bodie a complete and thorough tonsil exam after his mouth had been forced open.

The kiss lasted a considerable time, until both men needed to breathe so Doyle withdrew his mouth but not his forearm. Looking lovingly into the apprehensive blue eyes, Doyle whispered, “I was just teasin’. If you’re buyin’ the tickets, I’m going and taking you with me.”
Searching Doyle’s face thoroughly, Bodie nodded. “Good, ‘cause nobody else is usin’ them tickets but you and me. After all, why should I spend money on that Irish six foot six lump?”

“Now, now, Murph is a good guy and he’s our friend.”

“I don’t care if he’s our friend; YOU STAY AWAY FROM HIM.”

“I told you that I was just teasing about us bein’ an item. Actually, we all know who it is that is always feelin’ and pinchin’ me bum.”

“If you’d stop flauntin’ that bum by wearin’ those jeans that are so tight you have to grease yourself to get into them, then maybe I wouldn’t pinch it so often . . . and then maybe I would anyway,” Bodie said with a grin.

Doyle took a step back, looking at the taller man with a great deal of affection, “When is all this happenin’?”

Bodie rubbed his ear and said, “That’s the problem. I couldn’t get Cowley to agree to the spring or summer since we’re usually pretty busy so it’s scheduled for . . . January – just call it a birthday present.”

“January, January? We’re going on our vacation in January?”

“I told you that the average temp is 9° c so we can hike and do all kinds of things, you’ll see. It’s a nice place we’re stayin’; I even got some brochures. What could be better than stayin’ at the Christmas House?”

“Well, I guess it’ll be okay; certainly better than chasin’ bad guys in the stuff we get here in January. Thanks, Bodie, I appreciate it.”

Bodie smiled and then handed Doyle the large piece of rolled paper. “Here’s something else for you.”
Doyle unrolled it carefully and then noticed that it was a series of drawings which resulted in a shape much like a Christmas tree. Staring at the tree carefully, Doyle finally realized that it was divided into various levels and on each level was a drawing of one of the days of Christmas and the gift given. Starting at the bottom, at the widest point, were clearly 12 drummers drumming. The tree proceeded to get smaller and smaller as it aimed towards the narrowest point where there was a picture of Doyle nesting in a palm tree. Doyle laughed as he recognized himself. Reaching over he grabbed Bodie and hugged him, “That must have taken some work to do, but what’s that in me mouth?”

Bodie grinned lasciviously, thinking about what he would really like to see in Doyle’s mouth, but he answered with all innocence, “That’s some holly and ivy. Not sure if they have that on St. Mary’s so I thought I would take ‘artistic license.’ Bodie was pleased that Doyle seemed to enjoy his efforts, but his apprehension continued to increase as he noticed how carefully Doyle was studying the poster of the Days of Christmas.

Suddenly, Doyle turned around and stared at Bodie, “It’s a wonderful pressie, love, but did you notice that you made a mistake on Day 5? There are supposed to be five golden rings, you’ve only got four.”

Reaching into his pocket, Bodie pulled out a small box. “Yeah, I know. Here’s the fifth ring.”

Doyle carefully opened the small box. In it was a gleaming gold wedding band. Looking up, Doyle exclaimed, “Bodie, it’s gorgeous, but what’s it for?”

“It’s for you to wear, if you want it?
”
“What do you mean, for ME to wear? You wantin’ to marry me?”

“Well, they have passed that law now so it’s legal and everything.”

“And WHEN would we be doin’ that? You plannin’ to have your wicked way with me while we’re on St. Mary’s so then you got to make me an honest man or something?”
For a second Bodie looked contrite, but then he braced himself and asked in a faintly lascivious tone, “Do I really have to wait until late January to have my wicked way with you?”

Doyle practically sputtered his reaction to that question as he burst out with, “Now just a minute, 3.7, you and me have been partners for seven years and you’ve never hinted at your feelings before - - well, not to this extent - - how come this is all comin’ out now?”

“Well, you’ve been talkin’ about leavin’ the streets when you reach 40 so I thought this was the perfect time for us to make a major move in our life. We could have a honeymoon in January and then move on to whatever you want - - you know I’d follow you anywhere.”

“So that’s what this is, is it? A proposal and then a honeymoon?”

“If you want?”

“Why leave it just to me? You’re part of this deal too, aren’t you?”

Bodie managed to step out of Doyle’s grasp and walked away from the confused man. Keeping his back to Doyle, Bodie asked quietly, “You remember when you accused me of not sharin’ with you and askin’ why you were the one that had to share?”

Doyle stood stock still, fearful of what he would hear next. He merely murmured a quiet, “Yeah,” and said nothing else.

Bodie stayed silent for a moment then continued, “Well, I’ve done some pretty unlikeable things in my life. I’ve done things that I’m sure you would hate me for if you knew; that’s why I’ve been terrified that you would find them out and then you’d walk away from me. You don’t really know me, Doyle. I’ve spent my life running away from some really disgusting, dirty situations. I know you’re not naïve about what can happen in this world, but I don’t think you really have any idea what some people do, sometimes just to stay alive or to make money.”

Doyle continued to stand rigid staring at Bodie’s back as he waited for Bodie to continue, but when the ex-merc remained silent, Doyle took a few steps towards his friend and said with as much love and affection as he could put in his words, “I was so wrong about you when you were fighting Krivas that time. I hated the thought of you as a mercenary. I branded you as one of them.”

“I was, Doyle. Don’t ever forget that. I’m makin’ no excuses.”

Now Doyle was standing against Bodie’s back, breathing in his unique musk, as he said, “No, you might have done a lot of things, but you left that life and became the man that I fell in love with. You aren’t and never were like Krivas or any other of the individuals you knew back then. You are your own man, a man worthy of love and loyalty. You’ve given me more in the years that I’ve known you than I could ever have expected. That’s why I would be overjoyed to marry you and make you my partner for life.”

Slowly, Bodie turned around and looked into Doyle’s eyes. His stare penetrated deep into Doyle’s soul as the two men embraced once again.

Finally, as they pulled apart, Doyle smiled and said, “This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had. Put me ring on me finger and then we’ll have some pudding and make plans for our wedding and honeymoon.”

“That’s great. Can I stay tonight? I don’t have to be to work until 15 00 tomorrow; how about you?”

“I’m supposed to chauffeur Cowley to his Boxing Day appointments so that’s at 14 00 so I guess we got some time to ‘discuss’ a few things.”

Suddenly, Bodie’s face contorted into a totally licentious and lascivious look as he said ”Discuss, huh? How about we delay the pudding and go have our discussion right now? I’ve been very busy the last few days and I’m totally exhausted. I think it’s about time that this partnership get off on another track and what better time than Christmas?”

Doyle began to gently remove Bodie’s clothing as he pulled him along towards the bedroom. “I thought you’d never ask, 3.7.” Doyle stopped to pick up the now unwrapped gigantic stuffed angelfish and headed towards the bedroom where he stopped just inside the door and began to shed his very tight clothing. Looking up at Bodie with a total lack of modesty, Doyle smiled and said, “Here’s your other pressie, Bodie – an Angelfish in his birthday suit. Happy Christmas, MY TRUE LOVE.”

Bodie smiled as he took the slender man into his arms. Bodie sighed with relief as he realized that Doyle did understand after all.

The End

Title: A Date with a Palm and an Angelfish
Author: longstrt
Slash
Archive at Proslib
Disclaimer: The boys don’t belong to me, unfortunately.

Comments

Love your icon

[longstrt.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much. I am glad that you liked it. Those two always have misunderstandings, but they do like to make up I think. Glad you smiled. I smile every time I see your icon. Reminds me of those giant snails you see in the news. Thanks again.