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discoveredinaljAt some point soon I hope to catch up with all the wonderful entries so far. Meanwhile, here's a fic...
Title: “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year”
Author: unbelievable2
Category and Rating: Gen
word count: 1,394
A/N: A bit of fun…
“If I hear that song one more time,” muttered Bodie between clenched teeth, “I’m going to shoot someone. Or myself. I haven’t decided which, yet.”
Doyle rang his bell again, just to be annoying.
“I’d shoot Bing Crosby for you,” he offered, “except he’s dead already.”
Bodie scowled.
“Andy Williams.”
“Where?” Doyle looked around quickly, and his hat almost fell off.
“No,” sighed Bodie, with exaggerated patience. “Andy Williams sang ‘It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year’. Not Bing Crosby. Though God knows, old Bing’s got enough on his conscience already.”
“I really don’t know what’s wrong with you, today.” Doyle shook his head and rang the bell again; Bodie winced. “Where’s your Christmas spirit?”
“It’s crying in a corner somewhere, and offering my dignity a gun,” replied Bodie, with a black look. Some little children skipped past, giggling and pointing at the two of them. Bodie fixed them with a glare which stopped them in their tracks and sent them scurrying for their parents.
“We’re going to lose our jobs, you go on like that,” complained Doyle, enthusiastically ringing his bell to make up for his partner’s lapse in goodwill. Bodie slammed his own bell down on the table and turned to face Doyle, hands on hips.
“As far as I’m concerned, that couldn’t come soon enough! Seriously, this is the lowest point in all my years in CI5. I’m a soldier, Doyle! A soldier, and look at me now!” Bodie opened his arms and spread his hands to illustrate his point, turning in a slow circle for sardonic effect. “I was a member of Her Majesty’s Armed Forces!” he continued, once more facing Doyle, who just tsked. “I am ashamed!”
“I dunno what you’re on about, mate,” replied Doyle, smiling sweetly. “I thought you’re used to wearing a uniform.”
“Not one like this,” snarled Bodie. Doyle just grinned.
“Those Guardsmen wear red jackets, you know,” he countered. “Not a lot different from these. And they’ve got those stupid great bearskins. At least our hats let us see what’s going on.”
“Speak for yourself,” snapped Bodie, as the pointed top of his hat, complete with white pom-pom, once more fell down across his face. “And nothing fits. If we have to go in pursuit in these things, I’m going to be losing my trousers after twenty yards.”
“At least we’re incognito,” replied Doyle, pulling at his beard, which promptly fell off. “Oh, bugger…”
“See?” sighed Bodie. “I told you not to play with it. Let me have a look.” He picked up the fallen fleecy object and hooked it over Doyle’s ears again.
“Get out of me way,” muttered Doyle, annoyingly ducking his head and making things difficult for Bodie. “I can’t see what’s happening. We might miss them.”
Bodie made a final valiant attempt, and stood back to check the effect. The beard was back on, though lop-sided.
“Yeah, very incognito,” he muttered, and then raised his voice. “We won’t miss anything, Ray, because they’re not coming. They never were. And even if they did, why are we in the Lower Food Hall when the diamonds are in the third-floor Jewellery Department, eh?”
“You know why,” replied Doyle, as if to a fractious toddler. “Because Cowley thinks they’ll come in through the service entrances or with the deliveries, rather than in plain sight.” Bodie snorted.
“The Old Man’s gone nuts for Christmas, is why. And another thing...”
A family of Japanese tourists – father, mother and two neatly-dressed daughters - were standing in front of them, looking puzzled. Doyle rang his bell again.
“Merry Christmas! Be sure to visit the Toy Department and Santa’s grotto!” he bellowed. The bemused father stepped back slightly at the onslaught.
“Meri Kurisumasu,” he said gravely, with a shallow bow.
“Gesundheit,” replied Bodie. Doyle glared at him.
“Meri Kurisumasu,” repeated the rest of the family, also bowing. Doyle bowed back.
“We hope you’re enjoying your trip to Britain, sir,” he began, but the Japanese family were already beating a hasty retreat. Bodie elbowed him.
“Bloody hell, look! Yet more Santas! Is this the next shift?” Doyle frowned.
“Nah, not for another two hours. And the store agreed that we’d be on our own for this…” His voice tailed off as he and Bodie both stared at the men. The three new Santas were dressed in the same red suit, hat and beard, with black shiny boots. But there was something about their gait that said, less the Red-nosed Jolly Gentlemen, and more the Hard-nosed Ruthless Criminals. And the things in those sacks they were carrying were just the wrong shape to be teddy bears.
Doyle started to reach into his capacious trousers for his RT, and at that moment the lead Santa turned towards them, scanning the crowd; Criminal Santas saw CI5 Santas, and vice versa. Criminal Santas made a break for it.
Pandemonium would be a weak term to describe the next moments in the Lower Food Hall. Shoppers scattered as Bodie and Doyle threw themselves after the fleeing Father Christmasses, who pushed aside adults and children alike in their dash to escape.
Bodie was, as he had predicted, somewhat hampered by his trousers. He ran with his gun in one fist and a large amount of waistband grasped in the other, yelling at the crowd to get out of his way. Doyle, with a better-fitting suit, leapt onto the cooked meats counter and launched himself into the air, landing squarely on the trailing Bad Santa; with a wide sweep of his arm, he knocked the man out with his bell and then snapped handcuffs on him. By the time he was on his feet again, Bodie had caught up with him, and they both made for the Up escalator, which was the easiest way out of the Lower Food Hall.
They got to the top, and stopped dead amongst the milling, alarmed crowd. There were Santas everywhere – they were at each of the counters, standing at the doorways, and mingled in the crowd, handing out leaflets and sweets.
“Oh, for…” began Bodie, when Doyle yelped.
“Over there! Beyond the handbags!”
They were off again, Doyle now barking into his RT to relay their position. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Bodie’s determined face as his partner judged the best way to corner their quarry. The Criminal Santas ducked and swerved.
“Through there!” shouted Bodie, and he was off.
“Where are you, Doyle?” Cowley’s clipped voice crackled through the RT.
“I’m in Stockings,” replied Doyle breathlessly, “and Bodie’s just getting into Lingerie.”
“Heading for the East Door, then. We’ll be ready.”
Doyle looked around for Bodie and saw his partner duck as one of the fleeing Santas fired at him. Bodie rolled behind a wooden cabinet, just as another bullet shattered its glass front. People screamed and scattered, the Lingerie Department quickly emptying of panicked shoppers. In the melee, the Santas made it through the East Door, no doubt thinking they were home free. More firing, and a lot of shouting could be heard outside, and then Cowley’s voice came on the RT again.
“We’ve got them. Good work, lads. Return to HQ.”
Doyle trotted up to Bodie, grinning. His partner was standing now, and picking bits of glass off his jacket.
“You all right, mate?” asked Doyle lightly.
“My self-esteem is mortally wounded,” growled Bodie, “but I’m otherwise unscathed. At least we can get out of these bloody costumes now.” He started to remove the hated jacket when the RT crackled into life again.
“Oh, lads,” came Cowley’s voice. There was just that trace of silk in it which meant they were about to stitched up with something. They looked at each other, wary.
“Lads, as you’re already kitted out, I’d like you to go down to St Aethelstan’s Orphanage. I recall now I volunteered CI5’s help with their Christmas party. If you leave now, you’ll be just in time.”
“But, sir..!” wailed Bodie.
“That’s an order,” snapped their boss. “Cowley out.”
“Ho, ho, ho,” said Doyle, as they stomped out through the Lower Food Hall again, on their way to the Capri. “Remember, it’s ’The Most Wonderful Time of the Year’.”
What Bodie said in reply alarmed quite a lot of little old ladies, who subsequently made vociferous complaints to the management that Father Christmas wasn’t what he used to be.
~ fin ~
Title: “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year”
Author: unbelievable2
Category and Rating: Gen
word count: 1,394
A/N: A bit of fun…
“If I hear that song one more time,” muttered Bodie between clenched teeth, “I’m going to shoot someone. Or myself. I haven’t decided which, yet.”
Doyle rang his bell again, just to be annoying.
“I’d shoot Bing Crosby for you,” he offered, “except he’s dead already.”
Bodie scowled.
“Andy Williams.”
“Where?” Doyle looked around quickly, and his hat almost fell off.
“No,” sighed Bodie, with exaggerated patience. “Andy Williams sang ‘It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year’. Not Bing Crosby. Though God knows, old Bing’s got enough on his conscience already.”
“I really don’t know what’s wrong with you, today.” Doyle shook his head and rang the bell again; Bodie winced. “Where’s your Christmas spirit?”
“It’s crying in a corner somewhere, and offering my dignity a gun,” replied Bodie, with a black look. Some little children skipped past, giggling and pointing at the two of them. Bodie fixed them with a glare which stopped them in their tracks and sent them scurrying for their parents.
“We’re going to lose our jobs, you go on like that,” complained Doyle, enthusiastically ringing his bell to make up for his partner’s lapse in goodwill. Bodie slammed his own bell down on the table and turned to face Doyle, hands on hips.
“As far as I’m concerned, that couldn’t come soon enough! Seriously, this is the lowest point in all my years in CI5. I’m a soldier, Doyle! A soldier, and look at me now!” Bodie opened his arms and spread his hands to illustrate his point, turning in a slow circle for sardonic effect. “I was a member of Her Majesty’s Armed Forces!” he continued, once more facing Doyle, who just tsked. “I am ashamed!”
“I dunno what you’re on about, mate,” replied Doyle, smiling sweetly. “I thought you’re used to wearing a uniform.”
“Not one like this,” snarled Bodie. Doyle just grinned.
“Those Guardsmen wear red jackets, you know,” he countered. “Not a lot different from these. And they’ve got those stupid great bearskins. At least our hats let us see what’s going on.”
“Speak for yourself,” snapped Bodie, as the pointed top of his hat, complete with white pom-pom, once more fell down across his face. “And nothing fits. If we have to go in pursuit in these things, I’m going to be losing my trousers after twenty yards.”
“At least we’re incognito,” replied Doyle, pulling at his beard, which promptly fell off. “Oh, bugger…”
“See?” sighed Bodie. “I told you not to play with it. Let me have a look.” He picked up the fallen fleecy object and hooked it over Doyle’s ears again.
“Get out of me way,” muttered Doyle, annoyingly ducking his head and making things difficult for Bodie. “I can’t see what’s happening. We might miss them.”
Bodie made a final valiant attempt, and stood back to check the effect. The beard was back on, though lop-sided.
“Yeah, very incognito,” he muttered, and then raised his voice. “We won’t miss anything, Ray, because they’re not coming. They never were. And even if they did, why are we in the Lower Food Hall when the diamonds are in the third-floor Jewellery Department, eh?”
“You know why,” replied Doyle, as if to a fractious toddler. “Because Cowley thinks they’ll come in through the service entrances or with the deliveries, rather than in plain sight.” Bodie snorted.
“The Old Man’s gone nuts for Christmas, is why. And another thing...”
A family of Japanese tourists – father, mother and two neatly-dressed daughters - were standing in front of them, looking puzzled. Doyle rang his bell again.
“Merry Christmas! Be sure to visit the Toy Department and Santa’s grotto!” he bellowed. The bemused father stepped back slightly at the onslaught.
“Meri Kurisumasu,” he said gravely, with a shallow bow.
“Gesundheit,” replied Bodie. Doyle glared at him.
“Meri Kurisumasu,” repeated the rest of the family, also bowing. Doyle bowed back.
“We hope you’re enjoying your trip to Britain, sir,” he began, but the Japanese family were already beating a hasty retreat. Bodie elbowed him.
“Bloody hell, look! Yet more Santas! Is this the next shift?” Doyle frowned.
“Nah, not for another two hours. And the store agreed that we’d be on our own for this…” His voice tailed off as he and Bodie both stared at the men. The three new Santas were dressed in the same red suit, hat and beard, with black shiny boots. But there was something about their gait that said, less the Red-nosed Jolly Gentlemen, and more the Hard-nosed Ruthless Criminals. And the things in those sacks they were carrying were just the wrong shape to be teddy bears.
Doyle started to reach into his capacious trousers for his RT, and at that moment the lead Santa turned towards them, scanning the crowd; Criminal Santas saw CI5 Santas, and vice versa. Criminal Santas made a break for it.
Pandemonium would be a weak term to describe the next moments in the Lower Food Hall. Shoppers scattered as Bodie and Doyle threw themselves after the fleeing Father Christmasses, who pushed aside adults and children alike in their dash to escape.
Bodie was, as he had predicted, somewhat hampered by his trousers. He ran with his gun in one fist and a large amount of waistband grasped in the other, yelling at the crowd to get out of his way. Doyle, with a better-fitting suit, leapt onto the cooked meats counter and launched himself into the air, landing squarely on the trailing Bad Santa; with a wide sweep of his arm, he knocked the man out with his bell and then snapped handcuffs on him. By the time he was on his feet again, Bodie had caught up with him, and they both made for the Up escalator, which was the easiest way out of the Lower Food Hall.
They got to the top, and stopped dead amongst the milling, alarmed crowd. There were Santas everywhere – they were at each of the counters, standing at the doorways, and mingled in the crowd, handing out leaflets and sweets.
“Oh, for…” began Bodie, when Doyle yelped.
“Over there! Beyond the handbags!”
They were off again, Doyle now barking into his RT to relay their position. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Bodie’s determined face as his partner judged the best way to corner their quarry. The Criminal Santas ducked and swerved.
“Through there!” shouted Bodie, and he was off.
“Where are you, Doyle?” Cowley’s clipped voice crackled through the RT.
“I’m in Stockings,” replied Doyle breathlessly, “and Bodie’s just getting into Lingerie.”
“Heading for the East Door, then. We’ll be ready.”
Doyle looked around for Bodie and saw his partner duck as one of the fleeing Santas fired at him. Bodie rolled behind a wooden cabinet, just as another bullet shattered its glass front. People screamed and scattered, the Lingerie Department quickly emptying of panicked shoppers. In the melee, the Santas made it through the East Door, no doubt thinking they were home free. More firing, and a lot of shouting could be heard outside, and then Cowley’s voice came on the RT again.
“We’ve got them. Good work, lads. Return to HQ.”
Doyle trotted up to Bodie, grinning. His partner was standing now, and picking bits of glass off his jacket.
“You all right, mate?” asked Doyle lightly.
“My self-esteem is mortally wounded,” growled Bodie, “but I’m otherwise unscathed. At least we can get out of these bloody costumes now.” He started to remove the hated jacket when the RT crackled into life again.
“Oh, lads,” came Cowley’s voice. There was just that trace of silk in it which meant they were about to stitched up with something. They looked at each other, wary.
“Lads, as you’re already kitted out, I’d like you to go down to St Aethelstan’s Orphanage. I recall now I volunteered CI5’s help with their Christmas party. If you leave now, you’ll be just in time.”
“But, sir..!” wailed Bodie.
“That’s an order,” snapped their boss. “Cowley out.”
“Ho, ho, ho,” said Doyle, as they stomped out through the Lower Food Hall again, on their way to the Capri. “Remember, it’s ’The Most Wonderful Time of the Year’.”
What Bodie said in reply alarmed quite a lot of little old ladies, who subsequently made vociferous complaints to the management that Father Christmas wasn’t what he used to be.
~ fin ~
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no subject
Date: 2016-12-16 09:06 am (UTC)“I’m in Stockings,” replied Doyle breathlessly, “and Bodie’s just getting into Lingerie.”
*giggle* Very Are You Being Served? :D
Thanks for this, it was a real treat.
no subject
Date: 2016-12-18 10:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-16 10:18 am (UTC)I could see the general pandemonium and the lads in full flight (in their jolly red suits) so clearly!
“I’m in Stockings,” replied Doyle breathlessly, “and Bodie’s just getting into Lingerie.” ...Of course they were! XD
There are so many hilarious moments here. Thank you for a spirited Christmas romp with the lads.
Best wishes for the season!
no subject
Date: 2016-12-18 10:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-16 11:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-18 10:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-16 01:44 pm (UTC)Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2016-12-18 10:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-16 02:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-18 10:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-16 03:14 pm (UTC)Brilliant! *g* That was very good fun in general, and properly cheered me up - thank you!
no subject
Date: 2016-12-18 10:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-16 04:11 pm (UTC)"Where’s your Christmas spirit?”
“It’s crying in a corner somewhere, and offering my dignity a gun”
Oh! oh! and this:-
less the Red-nosed Jolly Gentlemen, and more the Hard-nosed Ruthless Criminals
I laughed like a drain when I read this:-
He ran with his gun in one fist and a large amount of waistband grasped in the other
and cried with laughter when I got to this bit:-
“I’m in Stockings,” replied Doyle breathlessly, “and Bodie’s just getting into Lingerie.”
Brilliant! :-)
no subject
Date: 2016-12-18 10:35 am (UTC)(love your icon, btw!)
no subject
Date: 2016-12-18 12:32 pm (UTC)My icon was made by the hugely-talented
You can find it, and other of her icons, here: http://casey28.livejournal.com/716992.html
and here: http://casey28.livejournal.com/1317687.html
no subject
Date: 2017-01-01 03:29 pm (UTC)http://discoveredinalj.livejournal.com/338821.html?view=comments
That's EXACTLY how I picture him in your story!!!
no subject
Date: 2017-01-01 03:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-16 04:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-18 10:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-16 08:07 pm (UTC)“I’m in Stockings,” replied Doyle breathlessly, “and Bodie’s just getting into Lingerie.”
Love the use of 'breathlessly', too.
Thanks so much!
no subject
Date: 2016-12-18 10:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-16 10:16 pm (UTC)“Gesundheit,” replied Bodie. Doyle glared at him.
I lost it right there! SO Bodie, that is!
This was great fun. Thanks for sharing!
no subject
Date: 2016-12-18 10:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-16 11:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-16 11:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-18 10:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-17 02:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-18 10:38 am (UTC)What a beginning set of lines
Date: 2016-12-21 12:59 am (UTC)lbc
Re: What a beginning set of lines
Date: 2016-12-26 05:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-23 12:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-24 10:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-01-01 07:07 pm (UTC)Sorry for bringing up the rear here - I've no idea how I've ended up being so late.
Thank you so much - you had me snigger away, especially at “I’m in Stockings,” replied Doyle breathlessly, “and Bodie’s just getting into Lingerie.” , but basically I was hooting softly all the way through. It's a complete delight of a read, and one I'll be grabbing for every Christmas from now on.